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#it goes as disastrously as you might expect
justaghostingon · 11 months
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Shi Qingxuan and the Quest to Win the Heart of the Hot Ghost
A beefleaf au to soothe my soul since i’ve reached “that” arc in the series
It all begins when He Xuan makes a mistake. A mistake that almost cost him centuries worth of work
He accidentally saves Shi Qingxuan in the wrong form!
He meant to save him as Ming-xiong, the trusted best friend, but due to an unexpected flux from Taicang mountain, he couldn’t control his form, and slipped into his true form.
Fortunately shi Qingxuan did not see him transform, and he was able to quickly get out of sight to change back
Unfortunately, Shi Qingxuan interpreted He Xuan suddenly appearing, saving his life and then leaving as a sign that He Xuan a hero!
His hero!
His Ghost king who wants to be friends just like Hua Cheng and Xie Lian!
But he’s shy! That’s why he ran away! So its Shi Qingxuan’s job to seek him out and thank him.
And treat him to dinner, and go out on the town, and hold his hand… you know, sworn brother stuff!
Shi Qungxuan might have a bit of a crush.
And Ming Yi, good old best friend ming yi, has to listen to all of it. Every excruciating detail, every inch of his face painted with such flowery language he wants to throw up.
Is he jealous of himself? No way! Not a chance! He’s just worried shi Qingxuan will put sowmthing together before its time!
At first ming yi hopes it will go away, a passing fancy, if shi qingxuan never sees he xuan again
But shi Qingxuan is way more determined than ming yi was expecting. He hunted down his layer, and threw his favorite foods down into the sea as an offering
How did he know he xuan’s favorite foods? They were ming yi’s favorites too! Did he know???
He xuan had to throw him off his trail, so he shifted in to his true form, just to reject them and throw him off the scent.
Shi Qingxuan then asks what his favorites are
He xuan panics and says super rare dishes like “cinnamon” and “corn” thinking the fetch quest will deter him.
It does not. Instead shi Qingxuan drags ming yi on a quest to find a whole nother two continents just so he could bring back food for his new “friend”
And of course, he brings his trusty friend ming yi with him. So ming yi has to go on his own impossible quest
He xuan has just about had it with this, ans vows never to appear before shi Qingxuan again, except…
Shi wudu comes to visit him.
Shi wudu wants to recruit him, ming yi, to keep he xuan away from his brother. To stop this disastrous crush before it destroys everything
He even offers to support ming yi’s own endeavors to court shi qungxuan, because clearly that’s ming yi’s goal here.
“This is that is that important to you?” Ming yi asks
“He xuan and shi qingxuan together would be the worst thing to ever happen to me” shi wudu says (not exactly in those words, but its what he xuan hears)
And suddenly he xuan sees a perfect opportunity to hurt shi wudu in a way that is intense and long lasting
Forget physical torture! Let him watch his brother fall for his greatest enemy!!!
So he begins to court shi qingxuan in his true form. Offering gifts of precious treasures from the sea bottom, eatinf his food, giving him the smoldering look that shi qingxuan will not shut up about to ming yi
Only one problem: he xuan is a little too good. He knows all of shi qingxuan’s favorite things from being his best friend, and bringing them up in courtship…that’s kinda creepy
He doesn’t want to come off as creepy. He needs this to go well.
So he tries to dial it down, but he’s not nearly as good as he thinks
Because one day shi qingxuan looks ming yi right in the eyes and goes “you know there’s nothing that would make me love you any less right? He xuan?”
And ming yi/ he xuan, realizes he’s been caught
But he’s also got a boyfriend, and shi wudu’s worst nightmare has come true, ao its all good
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gabessquishytum · 3 months
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Human AU! More asexual Dream agenda. Morpheus used to question his sexuality in his late teens and contemplated that he might be somewhere on the asexual spectrum. It seemed fine to him back then, that is, until he realized how much he didn't fit in when all the relationships his peers had seemed to revolve around sex. So, Morpheus started dating, went out with a few guys, but it died out naturally after a few dates because he refused to have sex. Eventually, he meets Calliope at the uni, and he's really in love and determined to do anything to make this work. They finally have sex, and...it's nothing spectacular. Morpheus just doesn't get why people seem to prioritize it so much (like, how can his friend Cori dedicate so much time to fucking his way through London when there're so many more interesting things to do? reading, for instance!). Anyway, as time goes by, Morpheus tries to really grasp this whole sexual aspect of relationship but it just evades him. He watches porn (it does nothing for him, but he switches on a video every now and then for educational purposes - maybe he'll see something that Calliope might like), tries his fair share of sex toys (some of them are nice, alright, but...cuddling in the blanket is nicer, still?), and comes to a spectacular conclusion that something is very wrong with him. After all, it's him who doesn't meet normal expectations. To make things worse, he starts to notice that Calliope avoids having sex with him (she's tired after work, has a headache, isn't in the mood, etc., and this goes on and on for weeks that turn into months), becomes more distant, and they slowly drift apart. It's a matter of time till they break up. Morpheus takes this as his personal failure, concentrates on his work, even goes to therapy, though he sabotages it before he can actually spell out that he thinks he's asexual, and...he doesn't date. Like, at all. Why set himself for another failure and disappointment? Enter Hob Gadling. They meet accidentally (or not so accidentally, if you ask Hob's elder sister), and Hob is smitten from the word go. He pursues Morpheus insistently yet never creepy; he is, in fact, very understanding and accommodating, and even though Morpheus bristled like a sad wet cat at first (and at second, too), he can't deny anymore that he's in love. He's scared shitless to fuck this up over sex again, but somehow, Hob manages to do the unthinkable: he puts Morpheus at ease. He figures out Morpheus is ace early on, and he's fine with wanking by himself till the end of time if his partner never ever wants to tumble in bed. There're other intimacies to be shared, they also matter! Morpheus doesn't believe him at first, but with time (and lots of cuddles), he cautiously accepts that this may be true. With sex no longer an obligation in his Google calendar, Morpheus even feels attraction...sometimes. It's a rare occasion, but Morpheus is shocked when he experiences it for the first time: he's never truly felt a desire before, and letting go feels scary. Hob is there for him and feels delighted to gently guide him in this exploration. And when Morpheus doesn't want anything sexual, which is most of the time? Hob's still happy with his magnificent husband, their Netflix evenings, disastrous baking, long romantic walks, endless literature discussions, and his right hand.
Gosh, i love this!!! Love the idea that Dream being able to change his perception of sex because it no longer feels like a chore or something that he's been forced into doing (by societal expectations). Mostly he's still not interested but occasionally if he does get a stirring of attraction or desire, he can plop himself down in Hob’s lap and be his pillow princess for an hour or two.
Calliope is probably the happiest person when she sees how content Dream is these days. She and Dream can be good friends (now Dream isn't psyching himself up to have sex with her, and she isn't just constantly getting the vibe that her husband doesn't want her). It's much nicer to have coffee and gossip.
And Dream gets to go home to his husband. Maybe they'll take a shower together, or dance around the kitchen and have a midnight feast. And they'll go to sleep after making out until their lips are sore. Dream will feel no expectations, except the expectation of Hob’s love. That is absolutely guaranteed.
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magicfootballstuff · 1 year
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Blind Date (claudia pina x reader)
Summary: In which you find yourself a reluctant victim of Alexia's matchmaking services. And maybe that's not such a bad thing after all.
———
Your leg bounces up and down beneath the table as you wait for your date to arrive. You don’t know anything about her except that her name is Claudia. Though Alexia has promised that you’re going to get along, you can’t calm your racing heart while you wait.
It’s not even that this is a blind date that makes you nervous, but this is pretty much your first proper date full stop since coming out. Sure, you’ve had a couple of disastrous attempts at trying to talk to girls on dating apps, but Alexia is certain that she’s found “the one” for you and after weeks of her begging you to give this mystery girl a chance, you eventually caved and agreed to the date.
You really doubt that your first ever date with a girl will end up being “the one”, but you’ve got to get off the mark at some point and in the worst case scenario, you’ll be one terrible date closer to finding the actual woman you’re supposed to spend the rest of your life with.
You glance up and see a girl being directed to your table by a waitress and know without even needing to ask that this is your date because you recognise her. You’re not a total diehard football fan but you’ve been to watch Alexia play enough times to know that the person walking towards you right now is Claudia Pina.
Of course Alexia would set you up on a blind date with a footballer. And not just any footballer, but one of her own teammates.
“Hi,” you say, pushing back your chair so you can get to your feet and greet her with a hug. “Claudia, right?”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Claudia says.
As you take your seats, you fall into silence. Your mind goes blank, completely forgetting how to start a conversation. Though you were nervous before the date, you hadn’t anticipated exactly how awkward it would be to have dinner with somebody you know nothing about, and you curse Alexia for pushing you into this.
“So, um,” you stammer, “you play football with Alexia?”
Claudia looks up from the menu in her hands and you find yourself caught in the piercing gaze of her blue eyes. 
“Yeah,” Claudia answers with a nod. “She’s always been like a big sister to me but as I’m getting older she’s started getting invested in my love life. Or lack of it.”
Claudia gives you a wry smile that immediately makes you feel more at ease.
“Don’t worry, there’s no expectation tonight,” Claudia continues. “I agreed to this date mostly to get Alexia off my back. If we have fun that’s a nice bonus.”
You relax slightly knowing that Claudia feels the same about this date.
“Ever since I came out to my cousin she’s been desperate to set me up with someone,” you explain.
“Your cousin?” Claudia frowns at you in confusion.
“Yeah, Alexia.”
Claudia’s eyes widen suddenly.
“Alexia is your cousin?”
“She really didn’t tell you anything about me, did she?” you ask, laughing in amusement.
You probably should have expected this - Alexia told you next to nothing about Claudia either, maybe knowing that you’d be more determined in your protests if you knew she was setting you up with one of her teammates. You wonder if Claudia would have felt the same way if she knew her date tonight was actually related to Alexia.
“No,” Claudia admits, shaking her head. “All she said is that you were nice and not a murderer. Which, of course, made it sound like you might be a murderer.”
Claudia’s blue eyes twinkle as she gives you a look as if asking you to confirm or deny the theory.
“Don’t worry, the only person at risk of getting murdered is Alexia,” you grin.
“What did she tell you about me?” Claudia asks.
“Not much. That she had a friend she thought I’d get on with. She said you were funny.”
“Shit,” Claudia groans. “I think she might have already oversold me to you.”
“Well she didn’t tell me you were this pretty,” you say, feeling a surge of bravery - this is supposed to be a date, after all.
Claudia smiles at the compliment and counters, “And she didn’t tell me what a charmer you are.”
You smile to yourself. There’s plenty of time for this to go wrong, but Claudia’s warm personality and the immediate chemistry between you has already started to settle your early nerves.
———
You don’t know exactly what Alexia’s logic was behind setting you two up on a date, but what you thought was probably going to end up being an awkward dinner between two random single people that Alexia knows, ends up being a really good date. It turns out you have more to bond over than just your resentment towards Alexia for pushing you into this, and the conversation flows effortlessly as you eat.
Alexia was right, Claudia is funny, but you also get glimpses at other things that you really like about her - her passion, her goofiness, her kind heart. 
The restaurant isn’t far from the sea and once you’ve eaten dinner and agreed to split the bill between you, you decide to go for a walk along the seafront promenade that looks out over the beach. You’ve just missed the sunset, but the shades of orange and pink still spill out across the sky as night continues to fall.
“You know, this is actually my first date with a girl,” you admit to Claudia, as you walk side by side along the beachfront. 
“Really?” Claudia asks. She laughs, then says, “I don’t know if that’s good or bad for me.”
You’re having a good time, the conversation is easy, and the awkwardness has long since faded away. You’re having fun and you’re not afraid of letting Claudia know that.
“You’re setting the bar quite high.”
“My first date with a girl was a disaster,” Claudia tells you. “I was so nervous that I knocked over not one but two drinks. Then at the end, I went in for a kiss and she pushed me away. Turns out she had a boyfriend and had no idea I thought it was a date.”
You can’t help but laugh at Claudia’s misfortune.
“No way.”
“Yeah,” Claudia nods. “I only found that out after I’d paid for everything. Talk about humiliating. I didn’t go on another date for months.”
“No wonder Alexia’s having to set you up if you’re that bad at reading signals.”
“Watch it,” Claudia warns you. “I’m still a bit traumatised by it all.”
“For what it’s worth, I’m really enjoying myself tonight. Way more than I thought I would. Sure, I’m a little disappointed you haven’t spilled a drink on me yet, but apart from that I’m having a lot of fun with you.”
“Fuck,” Claudia says, stopping in her tracks.
You stop walking too and turn to look at her.
“What?” you ask.
“I really want to take you on a second date,” Claudia admits with a grimace.
“Is that … is that a bad thing?” you ask cautiously.
“It’s a terrible thing,” Claudia explains. “Do you know how insufferable Alexia will be if she finds out her matchmaking has been a success?”
With Claudia’s words, you can already imagine Alexia’s glee. She’s right - facing Alexia will be torture.
“Bold of you to assume I’d say yes to a second date,” you can’t resist teasing Claudia. “I mean, I’d be up for it, but I don’t think my boyfriend would be too happy…”
Claudia smacks your shoulder.
“You’re as annoying as your cousin,” she says, before she adds with a smirk. “Better looking though.”
She starts walking again and you fall into step beside her, your heart doing a little flip when she reaches for your hand and tangles your fingers together.
“If you keep saying stuff like that I’m going to want to kiss you,” you tell her.
“Stuff like what, that you’re annoying?” she asks, turning her head and arching an eyebrow at you.
“Yeah, just like that.”
“You’re annoying,” Claudia grins at you.
It’s probably as clear an invitation as you’re going to get. You stop walking again and step closer, waiting for some kind of signal from Claudia that she doesn’t want this, but her eyes drop to your lips and you know she does. One of your hands goes to her waist, barely grazing her jacket as you let your eyes flutter shut and dip your head to kiss her. 
Claudia responds straight away, much more confident than you in the way her hands seek out your hips to hold you close as her lips brush against yours. It feels so right, the connection you’ve made with Claudia over dinner translating immediately into physical chemistry too. 
You can hardly believe this is actually happening. You started tonight expecting the worst but here you are, on your first proper date with a girl as she kisses you against the backdrop of ocean waves and orange skies. It’s not your first kiss with a girl but it might as well be, for how right it feels compared to the ones that have come before.
After a minute that feels like forever you pull back, though only just far enough that you can look her in the eyes.
“So, is a second date still on the cards?” you dare to ask.
“Kiss me like that and you can have whatever you want.”
You don’t know if that’s an invitation to kiss Claudia again, but her lips are so addictive that you lean in for another kiss anyway, more confident the second time around as your hand slips beneath her jacket to hold her waist.
When you eventually break apart, you smile at how pretty she is in the evening light, and wonder if the slightly dazed expression on her face is mirrored on your own.
“Thank you,” you say.
“For the kiss?” 
“For a great first ever date,” you clarify.
“And the kiss though, right?” Claudia grins at you.
You slap Claudia’s arm lightly, then let your fingers trail down the soft skin of her inner forearm until you can hold her hand again, and you resume your walk along the beachfront.
“The kiss was nice too,” you hum in agreement. “Look, if Alexia asks how tonight went…”
“We had a good time but we’re just friends?” Claudia suggests, arching an eyebrow at you.
Even after one date this feels like the start of something really special. Alexia may be able to claim credit for introducing you to each other, but you want the chance to get to know Claudia without your cousin’s meddling, and if you tell her tonight has been a success then you know Alexia will continue to interfere. 
You smile across at Claudia and squeeze her fingers as you say, “It’s like you’re reading my mind.”
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piratefalls · 1 month
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it's been a week and it's only tuesday. my brain is so tired i almost uploaded a snapshot of my dog's vet records. here's the greatest hits of everything i've read in the last week. (mind the tags on a few!)
masterlist
might blow up in your pretty face by crybabie
“I see you liked my gift,” Alex’s voice was light, but lower than Henry had ever heard it. His belly swooped at the sound. And then the words caught up with him. “Gift?” He felt the color drain from his face and frantically reopened Snapchat to confirm his worst fucking nightmare: his most recent outgoing messages had been sent to Alex, and all of them had been opened already. “Playing dumb doesn’t suit you,” Alex told him, still teasing, but he sounded muffled through the ringing in Henry’s ears. “I gotta say, I wasn’t expecting you to even acknowledge them, let alone send pictures. They look good on you.” - or, the next box was indeed full of thongs :)
When I Met You (I Could Not Speak) by @sparklepocalypse
Following the latest string of disastrous first dates with beautiful women to whom he’s decidedly unattracted, and with yet another circular argument with Philip about duty still ringing in his ears, Henry’s summarily fled to the countryside. Here at least, he reasons, there’s no pressure to woo the locals. (A modern fairy tale AU.)
A thousand dreams that would awake me by @kiwiana-writes
“It’s not about punishment.” Alex just nods; Henry had been very clear on the form that he wasn’t looking to be dominated or put in his place, so that won’t be new information. “And it’s not the pain as such.” He runs his fingers along the edge of the mug. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I like to feel it, but I’m not looking for pain for the sake of pain. It’s more about… control, I think.” There’s a long silence. “Taking it?” Alex prompts finally. “Or giving it up?” “Does it sound ridiculous if I say both?” Or, Henry visits a sex club to get spanked the way he's craving.
Foreign Bodies by clottedcreamfudge
“We both know it's not a doctor you need,” Henry says, sharp and beautiful, hands hovering just in front of him like he wants to touch Alex, but knows exactly how it would be received; like he knows Alex would burst into fucking flames at the first brush of his fingertips. Three hours ago, Alex had been quite happy to live without being burned. Now, he thinks he'd pay for the privilege.
Well It Ain't Missionary by everwitch
Alex Claremont-Diaz, a ballet dancer, is asked to list his ‘favorite positions.’ His hilariously suggestive answer goes viral, as does the unexpectedly flustered reaction to it by the Internet’s very own FoxySexEd. So obviously, Alex has to slide into Henry’s DMs. How could he resist? When a man that attractive wants your dick, only a fool would pass. Henry is surprising. He wants to be pushed around, thrown for a loop, and he wants Alex to do it for him. But whenever Alex tries to soften his landing, Henry clams up like he’s been burned. Alex can work around that, obviously. He's a dancer. If you're gonna toe the line just right, pointe shoes are a must. Or: Alex and Henry fuck. Not in missionary.
all my time is yours to spend by smc_27
Any way you look at it, Bea is not meant to be here, and if it were just the lights, he’d assume she forgot to turn them off. The fire burning is another thing entirely. The weather has been dreadful, and perhaps her flight was canceled. Surely, she’d have told him as much. He should investigate.
i told myself don't get attached (but in my mind i play it back) by coffeecatsme
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Claremont-Diaz,” the woman behind the counter says, eyes wide and apologetic. Alex grits his teeth so he doesn’t say something inappropriate in a lobby full of scared families, crying kids, and the obscenely tall British guy that’s currently giving him a fucking migraine. “Due to the snowstorm warning, all the flights are cancelled, and unfortunately the room you’ve booked is currently occupied.” “Occupied,” Alex repeats dumbly, nails digging into his palm. “I booked this room three months ago.” “Yes, well, the previous occupant—” “Should’ve been out of here by now.” Alex knows he sounds harsh, he knows the stupid blond is hovering somewhere behind him listening to the whole conversation, but he can’t help it. He’s not spending what’s supposed to be his vacation alone with another guy in his room. Or, Alex and Henry are stuck in the same room in a hotel during a sudden blizzard
how do you want me? by rizcriz
“Christ,” Henry curses quietly, lowering the camera. “You’re beautiful.” Kneeling on the bed, his ankles crossed behind him, a hand tucked into his briefs, the other carefully weaved through his hair, is Bea’s friend Alex. The light sits on his skin, a delicate shadow of eyelashes fan over his cheeks, and when Henry speaks, he opens his eyes and looks at him from beneath those eyelashes, a careful smirk slipping over his lips. He doesn’t move from the pose, though, as he says, “You’re not so bad yourself, sweetheart.” - Or Henry’s in over his head.
The Next Draft by graceofgrayskull
“This is so unfair,” Alex says, still eyeing Henry. “What?” June asks. “That Henry Fox is talented, successful, and also mind-numbingly good-looking?” says Nora. Alex nods. “Exactly. Like my perfect nemesis. He’s coming for my brand.” -- Alex has read Henry Fox's debut approximately three times in the past three months. The novel, featuring a wary protagonist coming to terms with his sexuality, is garnering Fox critical acclaim. And maybe Alex is a little jealous — his own novel generated a surprising amount of success last year after going viral online, but it just wasn't cut out for the type of buzz Fox was receiving. So Alex jumps at the chance to meet Henry at a book signing, despite knowing very little about the man himself. What starts as a bad first impression quickly leads to fast friendship, many Instagram DMs, and a whole lot of mutual pining.
Shoot Your Shot by RoseHarperMaxwell
Jimmy raises his eyebrows in anticipation. “First celebrity crush?” As usual, Alex’s mouth is moving before his mind can catch up. “Oh,” he gestures, like this is both obvious and the easiest question he’s ever been asked. “Prince Henry.”
No Laughing Matter by inexplicablymine
Ellen is leaning over him, her blonde hair pulled back in a perfectly coiffed updo. He had never managed to understand why exactly she was always dressed so impeccably in her scrubs as a dentist. But she seemed almost presidential, even with the eyeglasses that had magnifying glasses sticking out of them making her look a little like some kind of bug. She only needs a quick look before she is snapping her gloves against her wrists pulling away. “Wisdom teeth come in and then they come out,” she says, and then as an afterthought tack on, “just like you.” Or, who said a meet cute couldn't happen while getting your Wisdom Teeth out?
Love and Hate at the Farmers' Market by @myheartalivewrites
Alex and Henry both work at a farmers' market and they hate each other, until suddenly— oops! They don't!
i'll bet it all on me and you, i'll bet it all you're bulletproof by anincompletelist
“Let’s do this,” he says. “Let’s,” Alex agrees, pushing down on the handle until the door swings open. “After you, boyfriend.” This is most definitely not his finest idea. Henry usually practices much better self preservation skills. Much better common sense skills. He steps over the threshold of Alex’s room and it feels like sealing his fate. They’re doing this for Alex to win over their bosses in a lighthearted game with a harmless lie, but Henry can’t fight off the bitter knowledge that, regardless of how tonight goes, Alex will be fine, but Henry has so much to lose.
in an emergency by metacrisis
Alex gets in his own head about a meme Henry liked and decides to take matters, quite literally, into his own hands. OR, Alex gets a sex toy and other nonsense.
(Valen)Tie Me Up by happinessofthepursuit
“Well, I actually made your gift at one of Pez’s workshops, though I’m sure they would’ve gotten it out of me anyway,” Henry says, voice fond. Alex’s mind is whirring, going through the monthly calendars from Seize the Play. Pez leads classes multiple times a week, but there’s only a few that Henry could’ve attended, and one in particular that would explain his own gift… “Which one?” Alex asks. “I think that’ll immediately be clear.” Or, Alex and Henry exchange gifts for their first Valentine’s together—then proceed to use them.
More Amour by surveycorpsjean
Alex discovers something in Henry's closet that changes everything.
Confidential Memorandum by sherryvalli
"Hello, Mr. Fox-Mountchristen's office. How may I help you?" "Hello, can I speak to Mr. Fox-Mount-krishen, please?" Alex blinked. After two weeks of hearing nothing but the voices of snooty men and frazzled secretaries calling in, the person on the other line now sounded decidedly neither snooty nor male nor in any way adult. It was a little girl. "Mr. Fox-Mountchristen's unfortunately in a meeting right now,” Alex began slowly, “but I could take a message?" "Oh." The girl paused. "You're not Mr. Hunter." Alex starts a new job as Henry's new assistant. Henry's daughter keeps calling the office and leaving him messages.
in bloom by stutteringpeach
Yoo, can u hook me up with some flowers?? It's the busiest day of the year for florists. Alex texts Henry with a last minute request.
don't want you like a best friend by @priincebutt
The thing about marrying your best friend who you also happen to have a very secret crush on, is that you don’t take into account how much it will hurt. When they’re around his family and Alex holds his hand so easily, like it’s second nature, it makes Henry’s heart skip a beat, but when they return back to his apartment the distance is deafening. Alex purposefully sits at the opposite end of the couch, and Alex sleeps in the guest bedroom, and Alex calls him ‘man’ like two bros who definitely aren’t in love with each other. So he pines, and he’s heartbroken already, because he knows how much this is going to shatter him when it’s over. Because Alex is integrating into his life like it’s nothing, like it’s easy and this could be their new normal, and that kind of thinking is fucking dangerous. Or, Alex and Henry get married, conveniently.
everyone adores you (at least i do) by matherine
Rain is coming down in sheets against the stained glass windows of the brownstone when the door swings open, ushering in the howl of the wind and the man Henry loves more than anything in the world. “Why didn’t you use your colonizer blood money to buy a place closer to the train station?” Alex calls from the doorway. Henry hears the familiar rhythm of the lock tumblers turning and Alex’s copy of the key to the brownstone clinking against Henry’s signet ring and the key to the Austin house on his chest, only vaguely muffled by the rain. “It’s miserable out there.” Or: Alex comes into the brownstone in the midst of a rainstorm, and Henry realizes he never wants him to leave.
know how to cover up a scene by HypnosTheory
“That’s how Alvie kisses Harry,” Alex says, squeezing Henry’s wrist. Henry’s eyes dart down to the slight red mark on Alex’s cheek. He hit Alex the last time they were together. Henry didn’t get to watch the bruise form then with Alex between his legs. “That’s why Harry wanders, but he always comes back.” Henry draws in a shaky breath. “Alvie’s a lucky man.” Alex’s eyes drop to Henry’s neck, where the diamond of his pendant hangs amid the forming marks Alex left behind. “Sure is." __ Henry Fox, needing an extraction, must rely on his part-time rival, full-time problem Alex Claremont-Diaz. To get that extraction, Henry needs to pose as Alex's date for a high-stakes dinner. They get in character - and stay that way behind closed doors.
as always, let me know if you want to be tagged, and i'll see you next week!
tagging: @starkfridays @stilesgivesmefeels @midnightsfp @sarahjswift
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blouisparadise · 4 months
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Today we have the third part of our angst rec list for you to check out! You can find part one here and part two here. The fics on this list are all amazing, so please be sure to read them, give them kudos, and leave a comment for the author. If you enjoy our rec lists, please like this post and reblog it to help spread the word. Happy reading!
1) Please, Don’t Say You Want Me | Explicit | 9,320 words
Prompt 496: ABO/royalty AU. Where Omega Prince Louis is forced to marry alpha King Harry by his father for the benefit of their kingdom. After the wedding, Harry lets Louis know that he didn’t want a mate and to not expect a relationship from him. Since they are already mated, Harry has to officially reject Louis’s omega to break ties. This practice is so taboo that he doesn’t know the omega has a maximum of a year left to live after rejection. As time goes on, the omega gets weaker and weaker.
2) All This Delusion In Our Heads | Explicit | 15,088 words
After Harry and Louis break up, they cope with it in very different ways. What will happen when Harry keeps calling his ex over when things go wrong in his life, but Louis just can't take it anymore?
3) Dandelion Heart | Explicit | 17,563 words
After his sister’s death, Louis is granted full custody of his 4-year-old nephew, TJ. It isn’t easy, but with the help of TJ’s other uncle, Harry, they learn to make it work.
4) Death Wish | Explicit | 22,067 words
Louis hates vampires, he lives his life trying to kill as many as he can, night after night, year after year. He hates them. Then why the fuck is he kissing one? Again. “I mean it, Harry.” Louis says, into his mouth this time. “You need to get the fuck away from me.”
5) The Games We Play | Explicit | 23,448 words
Louis is a political lobbyist who chose his career over his personal life a long time ago and has never regretted it. Then he met Harry.
6) Bloom | Explicit | 24,887 words
When they first meet at Harry’s flower truck, Harry falls hard but Louis’ unavailable. Only before long, Harry reignites a spark that Louis thought long forgotten.
7) Somebody's Got Your Trainers On (It's You) | Explicit | 28,000 words
Louis hasn't thought about Harry since half an hour after the shift started, when Krystle told him that she was binging Gogglebox last night and therefore didn't get enough sleep - a sure reminder of Harry’s temporary Gogglebox obsession. Five hours isn't much without thinking about someone, but that's as long as it gets. Louis came to terms with that two years ago. When Harry walked out the door with his stupid New Balance trainers and never looked back.
8) The Road Not Taken | Explicit | 30,393 words
The one where Harry returns back home for the holidays after a successful debut album, leaving Louis to unwrap gifts as well as old complicated feelings. Cue: hometown holiday hookups, overbearing siblings, and a disastrous New Year’s Eve party. A 'Tis’ the Damn Season' inspired AU.
9) Compass To The Soul | Teen & Up | 31,439 words
Harry Styles, alpha, is 1/4 of the perfect pack, and 1/5 of world famous boy band One Direction. He spends his time touring the world with his best friends and family. Louis Tomlinson, omega, is 1/5 of world famous boy band One Direction. He spends his time hoping his bandmates don’t notice him.
10) Like The Stars Above | Explicit | 33,759 words
Louis has a witchy little secret that is slowly ruining his relationship. When that secret comes out, it turns out that he has a lot more to worry about than just losing the love of his life. He might lose everything.
11) Close To Nowhere | Explicit | 34,589 words
Louis and Harry are psychics who kind of hate each other. They go to Tennessee to investigate a haunting.
12) Just A Pretty Boy | Explicit | 35,614 words
The alpha in front of him wasn’t only tall, but used every inch of his body to look even more threatening. He looked as shocked as Joseph felt, in his eyes he could clearly see horror and anger mixed into an odd and painful mix. It was as if he just watched a ghost or a monster from a nightmare come to life.  “Louis…” he said with a low voice. It wasn’t a question, he was calling Joseph by that name.  The crease between Joseph’s brows deepened. “Who?” Louis and Harry were married until, one day, Louis passed away in a tragic accident. Years later, he is found alive and with a thousand questions plaguing his mind. The most important ones; was his husband involved in his disappearance? And, how long did it take Harry and his best friend to fall in love after his supposed dead?
13) Best Colours For Your Portrait | Explicit | 37,717 words
Louis bites his lip in, his eyes leaving Harry's face, they are cast low as he takes a deep breath before sighing, "In solitude, I felt the liberty you spoke of." "But," The omega glances up, his eyebrows twitching as he brings his face closer to Harry's neck to overpower the alpha's scent with his scent, "I mostly felt your absence."
14) Give Me Love | Explicit | 41,041 words
Despite being an omega, Louis’ always had a blatant dislike of alphas.
15) Letters To June | Explicit | 41,150 words
It's 1915, Europe is in the middle of the Great War. Omega Louis decides to join the Letter Home Project to become someone’s penfriend. Through this he meets a lovely soldier who hasn't got anyone else to send a letter to. Along with his letter, comes a picture of the most handsome alpha Louis has ever seen.
16) Strangers In Love | Explicit | 42,207 words
Louis wakes up to find himself in a marriage with the last man he thought he'd ever end up with.
17) This Glass House | Mature | 43,072 words
While deployed, Alpha Harry gets injured by an IED explosion, leaving him to deal with severe injuries in its devastating aftermath. During his road to acceptance and recovery he learns with the help of Louis and their children just how important family can be for the mind, body, and soul.
18) Oubaitori | Explicit | 48,822 words
Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.
After a year away, Harry comes back to his hometown ready to shoulder the responsibilities that come with being a Styles. However, an unforeseen return will greatly setback his plans as he finds himself confronting ghosts of the past, his prejudice, and a torrent of feelings he thought were long-buried. In the midst of a battle between protection and progress, trust that was once broken will try and pierce through walls of convictions he built around himself, leaving him grasping for power he is unsure he even wants. Meanwhile, Louis merely tries to save his family and make the next day better than the last. As he faces his past wrongdoings and the scars they left, chances will be granted to him - either to repair what was once broken or finally find closure. Torn between the desire to defend himself and the fear of the truth being rejected, he will learn peace comes from honesty - and that sometimes, what appears to be the easiest solution simply was the most coveted one.
19) Untamed Hearts Align | Explicit | 55,795 words
For as long as Louis has known her, Lady Margaret Tomlinson has had two aspirations for the remaining years of her life. The first was to out-dress the Duchess of Kent at every soirée and gathering. The second was to marry off her omega nephew to the most honorable – and highly ranked – alpha suitor she could find. He does not expect for her to arrange a marriage between him and the crown prince, and he certainly does not expect to fall for him. Everything changes when Harry disappears.
20) If You’re Out There (I’ll Find You Somehow) | Explicit | 55,916 words
Harry looks so intensely into Louis’ eyes it’s as though he’s reaching in and touching his very soul. “I never thought… I never… I’ve been searching for so long, Louis, but I never gave up. I couldn’t stop, wouldn’t stop trying,” Harry says, bottom lip trembling as he strokes the backs of Louis’ knuckles. “I just knew that if you were out there, I’d find you somehow.”
21) Of Lost Things | Explicit | 57,980 words
Louis comes with a familiarity Harry has never felt with anyone else before. After their fateful meeting, their chemistry became undeniable, and soon after, Harry had felt like he hit the jackpot when it came to finding the person he would spend the rest of his life with. But all relationships come with their own unique problems, and Harry soon realizes that their relationship is no different. When their problems go from unordinary to nearly bizarre in nature, he takes it upon himself to find an answer to their troubles. What he stumbles upon are terrifying coincidences between his and Louis’ story, and the ill-fated mythological couple, Orpheus and Eury. But it’s all they are; just coincidences, ones that feel as frighteningly familiar as Louis. Except… what if none of this is a coincidence? What if everything Harry has always seen as fiction is true, and myth—or rather, history, is about to repeat itself?
22) But We Have Promises To Keep | Mature | 62,608 words
Note: This fic is the fourth part in a series. We'd recommend reading the other fics first, though none of them have smut.
Maybe, Louis thought, from the beginning to the end, he had always known exactly what he wanted. He had always heard it, a quiet song in his head never giving up, because it had never been a thing apart from who he was. Someone who wouldn’t stop. Someone who could walk out into the dark, seeing nothing, having little, and still looking. The undeniable, terrifying, gorgeous truth was always going to be this: that he had a heart, and that that heart wanted to live.
23) Sink Into Your Sunlight | Explicit | 79,601 words
Louis hadn’t forgotten about Harry as much as he tried. It wasn’t due to the strange nature of their meeting, more so the magnetic pull he somehow had on Louis. He couldn’t fathom why this complete stranger stayed in his mind as much as he tried to stop it. Any time his phone sounded his heart skipped a beat at the thought of it possibly being Harry. In all honesty, it made him feel sort of pathetic. Gay guy falls for straight guy, what a cliche he had become.
24) The Rose Of Whitechapel | Mature | 100,180 words
Jack the Ripper AU. Detective Constable Harry Styles and his partner, DC Liam Payne, lead the case on the Whitechapel murders. Louis Tomlinson, the Rose of Whitechapel, is harbouring secrets of his own, along with a dark and sordid past. When their paths cross, truths are revealed, and perhaps hearts are mended... A darkness is brewing, and it's finally come to collect on the promise it was made.
25) Our Endless Numbered Days | Explicit | 120,815 words
“Harry?” whispered Louis, his mouth dry, his nose pressing against the other’s warm skin. “Mh?” Harry’s humming was gentle, his fingers lightly caressing the younger boy’s arm, his chest steadily rising and falling beneath Louis’ cheek. A couple of seconds passed, and Louis looked up at him in the darkness of the cave, barely able to make out the expression on his face. When he tried to inhale deeply, his breath hitched. He struggled to find the words to tell Harry what he was thinking about. Another couple of seconds passed, and Louis listened to the reassuring beating of the prince’s heart beneath his cheek. He couldn’t. “Nothing,” he whispered, his voice weak. I think you’re half of my soul.
Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.
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romchat · 5 months
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Story of Kunning Palace Ep. 18: Observing you observing me
When you've always seen yourself as the villain, is it harder to accept kindness or accept that others see kindness within you?
Hands down my favorite parts of Episode 18 were these two back-to-back scenes with You Fangyin, Jiang Xuening, and Xie Wei. For our two deeply scarred leads, the ability to find someone who truly sees them for who they are and what they could be feels unattainable, and yet in this episode they both find that.
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The day after being attacked by a delirious Xie Wei, Xuening goes to visit You Fangyin in prison. Feeling guilty about not being able to stop Yan Lin from being exiled, Xuening also expresses guilt about keeping Fangyin in "another prison" to protect her from her family. Like Xie Wei with Yan Lin, she believes her scheming has shackled Fangyin to an even worse fate.
But Fangyin just smiles and gently corrects her, arguing that Xuening has actually made her life better. She also notes that while "death is the end of everyone's life, the process could have thousands of possibilities." The conversation is a good reminder for Xuening that not only is Yan Lin's disastrous fate not locked into place, but also that perhaps Xie Wei's actions, like her own towards Fangyin, might not be as nefarious as she had originally assumed.
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I think that's why when Xie Wei confronts her outside the prison, she's angry but it's more from feeling betrayed than anything else.
Side Note #1: This woman though. Xuening literally saw Xie Wei murder a man and almost gets stabbed/strangled herself, but she's more upset that he kept his plan to protect Yan Lin a secret from her. She might idolize and be attracted to Zhang Zhe's virtuousness but she and Xie Wei are two peas in a pod when it comes to embracing the idea that sometimes the ends justify the (bloody) means.
Side Note #2: I love how Xie Wei is wary enough of Xuening's reaction that he keeps his distance but the moment his guard, Qing Feng, starts criticizing her he moves to her side.
Side Note #3: Zhang Linghe's profile is magnificent. That jawline is sharper than the dagger Xie Wei used to kill Gongyi Cheng.
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Xie Wei is an excellent people reader, and when she accepts his invitation back to his home, he knows she's angry. So it takes him aback when she extends a bit of kindness despite that.
The beginning of this scene has such lovely subtle acting by Zhang Linghe. Xuening sees Xie Wei struggle with setting down the qin because of his injured hand so she reaches over and gently places it on the table for him. That cautious lift of Xie Wei's head and the wonderous look on his face like he can't believe she'd offer care after witnessing his violence...that broke me. It says so much about his character and the low expectations he has for the people around him to care.
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But when it comes to Xuening, Xie Wei doesn't want her to have those same low expectations of him. He tells her not to trust him, that he's not a good person, and yet he
Risked his life to take pills that would treat his delirium enough that he could approach her the morning after he attacked her;
Is willing to risk his revenge plan by explaining parts of his strategy to someone with links to the Ministry of Justice just so that she doesn't turn away from him;
Gets visibly frustrated when she assumes he just wants to shut her up about the murder rather than explain about Yan Li.
And he tucks it away in his heart that she admits to observing him like he observes her. Although his identity is an illusion, it is enough for him that he is an illusion she truly sees and can be kind to.
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Look at that boyish smile.
How she is so oblivious about his feelings at this point is beyond me but Minister of Justice and Cheekbones is pretty distracting so I guess I get it.
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You recently did an ask about an angsty mpreg fic...I love the concept. Could ylu possibly recommend some more like that?🥺
AND
Anon asked: any fics where stiles is pregnant and unfortunately gave birth by himself? i love mpreg angst  
Hi anon. @kevaaronday made this list!
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baby of mine by suddenlyatiger (35/35 | 78,402 | Mature | Sterek) "It's not a joke," Stiles says. He looks at Derek, brown eyes wide and worried. "I need your help."
"By marrying you?" Derek asks.
"Yes," Stiles says.
My Liberation Has A Name by SilkO (12/12 | 66,380 | Mature | Sterek) Stiles is a prince under the Argent clan, the king, Gerard Argent had killed Stiles's clan years before taking Stiles as his own due to the omega being born a spark. The Argents had used Stiles's spark against the people. Killing many while using Stiles's name for the murders.
Years after Stiles was taken and imprisoned in the Argents castle Derek's clan gets massacred. Peter, filled with anger and vengeance trained Derek to go and kill Stiles, the witch of the Argent clan and avenge their family.
Derek goes and as he meets Stiles his reasoning falls, only leaving behind Derek's emotions, something he thought had died years ago.
if it’s meant to be, it’ll be by DeancebraArt & EvanesDust (4/4 | 27,560 | Explicit | Sterek)
Following a chance encounter with an irresistible and alluring omega, Derek wakes up in bed alone, with no way to contact the man he met the night before. Over the course of the next year, Derek finds himself wondering: how can he miss someone he doesn’t even know? And, more importantly, how can he find him again?
After a one-night stand with a mysterious alpha werewolf leaves Stiles pregnant, he resigns himself to raising his child as a single parent. It’s not until the man he’s been pining over for the last year shows up at his doorstep, does he realize there might actually be something more complicated than raising a child on his own: love.
Mama Please by Parkkrys (1/1 | 20,699 | Mature | Sterek) Claudia gave up hunting to marry Noah and so far no regrets. Yes, it irks her that Noah is friends with the Hales, but she had been able to put it to the side. 
Now after having twins, she struggles with watching lil Stiles and Derek grow closer, and now at the age of eighteen Derek reveals that Stiles is his mate. Something in her snaps and she leaves to the Argents for help. She wasn't expecting her lil boy to be a spark though.
Now years later, she knows her baby boy is married to Derek and she is determined to set him free no matter the cause.
Make Your Own (Buns in the Oven) by nezstorm (1/1 | 11,250 | Teen | Steter) Stiles opens his mouth a few times, but no words come out as he feels tears welling up again. He takes a deep, shaky breath, exhales slowly to calm himself enough to do this.
Peter waits, brows furrowed in worry as he watches Stiles.
“I think I’m pregnant,” he finally says, “And I don’t know what to do.”
--
Or the one where Stiles is a human incubator and Peter is not the baby daddy (until he is).
Virgin by KiraH69 (4/4 | 10,073 | Explicit | Steter) Stiles is a virgin, unmated and pregnant omega. That doesn’t make sense. Nobody believes it and things just get harder and harder.
Newborn by Anonymous (1/1 | 4,514 | Mature | Steter) Pregnant Stiles nearly pays the ultimate price for a disastrous rideshare experience.
Aka: Stiles, pregnant with Peter's baby, gets attacked by a bad driver with a gun. Do Not Read if you don't wanna see a pregnant twink get whumped in the backseat, oh ho ho.
Spoiler note: Stiles and baby are stable and recovering. The baby registry is on the Toys 'R Us website if you want to send them love.
infinitely undefined by nezstorm (9/9 | 3,999 | Teen | Steter) Stiles misses him sometimes. In the odd moments between reality and sleep.
--
Or the one where Stiles and Peter make a baby, but Peter is a chicken shit.
This Wasn't Supposed to Happen by Parkkrys (1/1 | 3,996 | Gen | Sterek) Stiles didn’t hide this on purpose, there just wasn’t a good time to tell him. Doing this friends with benefits thing with an alpha werewolf maybe wasn’t the best idea but how could he ever say no to Derek? 
Sure, he had feelings for the man, and this could only end in heartbreak because hey, who would be interested in a long time thing with him of all people? He knew how annoying he could be. He wasn’t even sure how his dad had put up with him all these years. 
But this has gone on for far too long, the scent blocker and the bracelet that he has been wearing for the past month could only do so much from hiding his not so little secret.
A Way Out by OnTheGround2012 (1/1 | 1,587 | Teen | Stackson) After finding out that he's pregnant, Stiles goes to see Jackson to fix it but things don't go as smoothly as he hoped. This is how their encounter ends.
Mpreg!derek
Expiration Dates by KaliopeShipsIt (22/22 | 226,825 | Mature | Sterek) When 13-year old orphaned Derek Hale tests positive as a male carrier, his newly appointed guardian and uncle Peter uses his influence to make the test result go away, aware that in their deeply carrier-phobic society his nephew’s status could prove to be the downfall of the family company.
16 years later Derek is pressured into firing eight months-pregnant Danny Mahealani, creating a publicity scandal that, as the Equal Rights for Carriers movement gains more and more ground, results in an unprecedented media outrage targeted towards Hale & Argent Publishers. 
A very reluctant Derek finds himself forced into defending his company’s prejudiced views on national television, facing off in heated debates against Stiles Stilinski, a guy he happened to have a one-night stand with months ago and has been pining over ever since. Stiles is a disgruntled former Hale & Argent employee, a staunch supporter of the ERC movement, he hates everything Derek stands for … and, courtesy of an expired condom, he’s also, unknowingly, the father of the child Derek wasn’t even aware he could carry in the first place.
Turning the Page by KaliopeShipsIt (26/26 | 128,387 | Mature | Sterek) After being widowed and left to raise three children on his own at the age of 21, Derek Hale-Krasikeva did not expect to ever find happiness again. 
He also definitely did not expect to meet the love of the second half of his life in a grad student attending the same university as his undergrad kids.
When You’re Not Expecting by KattsEyeDemon & seekeronthepath (9/9 | 49,863 | Explicit | Sterek) Derek and Stiles weren't planning on kids yet. Stiles hadn't even known biological kids were an option. But when the unexpected happens, Derek grabs onto the chance for a larger family with both hands, and everyone else is along for the ride
Derek Hale’s Baby by KaliopeShipsIt (4/4 | 38,741 | Mature | Sterek) On the last night of his vacation in Paris, Derek has a one-night stand with a handsome stranger. When he boards his plane back home twelve hours later, Derek's cute seat neighbor Stiles almost lets a backpack fall on Derek's head and Derek has no choice but fall for him. 
Ten weeks later, Derek has never been this happy, he's never been this in love - and he's never been this pregnant and with no clue who the baby daddy is. 
Also, he's secretly a werewolf. No Vacancy by KaliopeShipsIt (4/4 | 34,964 | Mature | Sterek) "29-Year Old Omega (muscular/scruffy/perpetual sourface) Seeking for Alpha-Baby-Daddy. Might or might not be named Stiles"
Derek is an unusually muscular Omega with irregular heats and dumb luck.
Stiles is an unusually polite Alpha who forgets to leave his number.
Laura is a furious Alpha who wants to wear Stiles' balls on a golden chain.
Cora is a pragmatic Alpha who composes Craigslist ads.
... aka, my first A/B/O-Fic
Edit: This work is now a trilogy
The Beginning of Our Wolfy Family by modestfuckup (6/6 | 20,699 | Teen | Sterek) “Stiles, I’m pregnant.” Derek blurted out.
Stiles jaw was open, an eyebrow arched, “No, not possible. I know I may have slept through freshman health, but I know for a fact that men cannot carry babies. Nice one Der. What did Deaton say?” 
or the one where Stiles and Derek find out they are having a baby.
A Day in June by KaliopeShipsIt (1/1 | 13,061 | Not Rated | Sterek) Derek is happily married, a proud papa of three children, and financially comfortable. 
He's also pregnant for the fourth time and doesn't want to be.
Bump in the Night by KaliopeShipsIt (1/1 | 3,600 | Mature | Sterek) The one where Derek's pregnant belly is a lot bigger in the evenings than in the mornings and Stiles mopes because he volunteered to work the nightshift for a month and thinks their unborn daughter is trying to be the next Houdini.
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elvisabutler · 10 months
Text
eros
summary: he was a frat boy. you were not a sorority girl. could i make it any more obvious. or how you fall for a frat boy and you two finally actually get it on but not necessarily in the way both of you intended. fandom: austin butler rating: m pairing: austin butler x female reader word count: 1716 warnings: talking shit on fraternities and sororities. mild insecurity. talk of disastrous dates. coming untouched. coming in pants. handjobs. implied p in v sex. a touch ( okay maybe a bit more than a touch ) of sub austin. impatient horny college people. author’s note: so as @blurredcolour can attest to i meant for this to be a touching little piece about how these two had sex for the first time and he sort of defied her expectations and all this nice romantic stuff. it's why i called this piece eros. yeah, then i started writing it and well, it's still romantic and sweet? but i also had the three people who saw bits before i posted forget how to breathe so oopsies. as always comments and reblogs and hearing your thoughts are my lifeblood so feel free to scream at me in dms or asks or in the comments. i'll eat it up and write like a woman possessed i swear. beyond that, if you want to be on my taglist fill out the form here. i might just make a tumblr post for it too but we'll see.
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If anyone were to have told you half a year ago that you'd be head over heels with a boy who's in a fraternity, you'd have laughed. You'd have told them that they really should brush up on their comedy skills because there was no way you would do that. Not after every aggravation you had with them. Not after every class where one of them popped up with some stupid remark that had you wanting to deck them in the face and not after knowing that just because they had gotten into some exclusive club they got a leg up on other people. Maybe it's true that's how the world worked but it didn't mean you'd have to like it. Then you properly met Austin. You got to know this stupid premed who minors in theater of all things and cares so deeply for his friends and for other people that it threatens to choke you sometimes when you think about it.
He's not perfect and he makes stupid jokes that you swat him on the arm for and spreads himself just a little too thin but he's yours and heaven help you, you're his. It's too early to be thinking about forever, you think, but the idea doesn't terrify you as much as it should. The idea of being with him as he goes through med school and as you complete your own schooling and go into the workforce is almost comforting. The idea of seeing him with a child that's a small mix of the two of you doesn't immediately make you run for the hills. The idea of him in your life, in your bed and in your apartment feels like an inevitability that comforts you more than anything else.
Of course, all of this—you like to think— might depend on whether or not Austin feels the same way. It depends on whether or not maybe tonight you can convince him that you'd honestly like to have sex with him. The circumstances are right, your roommate won't be home tonight at all and the house is fine and in capable hands. The two of you even have a date where for once Austin plans on cleaning up for something other than a frat function or a school related function. There's no reason he shouldn't want to unless he doesn't actually want you that way.
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In hindsight, you don't know why you were ever concerned as you find yourself up against your bedroom door, head tapping it lightly as Austin's hands move up your sides while his lips attack your neck.
"Austin-" you whine, as one of his hands moves to your chest, trying to free your breasts from your dress and instead just managing to squeeze them. "You— The dress, we gotta undo the dress."
Your words are clearer and said with more clarity that you thought was possible given Austin's wandering hands. Someone— one of the two of you has to keep a clear head— if only so that you can both enjoy this. So that Austin doesn't try and rip your dress or your panties or god forbid your bra to get at your body in his impatience.
Austin forces his face away from your neck and groans a little at how there's already a bruise forming from his lips, how your skin is just that little bit darker where his lips had sucked and where his teeth had nipped. You were his girlfriend and you loved him. You loved every single part of him— the part that had to work so hard in classes and at work, the part that missed his mom in the middle of the night and would call you tearing up, the part that cared about his people so deeply that he'd murder for him— they were all what made him the person you wanted to be with and that was a heady thing to know. It set a fire ablaze inside of him that threatened to overtake him and bring you with him. You were his girlfriend and here you were in a gorgeous dress still with him after what was hands down the most disastrous date he's ever had with another person. The reservation was at the wrong time, the restaurant ran out of half the food to make their dishes and there was not one but two couples breaking up next to you. Not to mention the way the uber had broken down mid trip and how the wine had spilled on his jacket ruining it until he could manage to get it dry cleaned.
Yet you were still here and in his arms and willing and wanting to have sex with him. No— you were willing to make love to him the same way he wanted to make love to you. He wants to take his time laying you out across your bed, watching your face as he enters you and watching how your face contorts when he plays with your clit while he's inside of you. He wants to see your face in ecstasy and hear your mewls of pleasure in his ear. Your nails would mark him up, drag lines down his back from how overwhelmed you are and he could see just what he does to you.
"I love you," he whispers with a reverence you weren't prepared to hear in contrast to his hands trailing fire across your skin. "I know we say it all the time but— I— I'm so thankful you gave me that shot, babe. So thankful you let me clean your car. You could have told me no—" His words are cut off with a low groan as he feels your hand undoing his belt and sticking your hand in his pants with a speed that startles him. "Babe I'm—"
"You're being—ah— very romantic, Aus. I love it— but I'm ruining my underwear and I want to see you come right now." The words that come out of your mouth have both you and Austin pausing for just a moment because while you can be startlingly blunt that particular combination of words is a bit much for even you.
"O-Okay," he manages to stutter out in response, the blues of his eyes completely overwhelmed by his pupil. "In my pants?"
Your chest heaves at the idea, at the implication that Austin would let you bring him off like this and come in his pants. It's a rush of power you aren't expecting and that you figure no one would expect. You bite at your lip, watching as Austin's eyes are glued to them before you finally answer. "Would you?"
It's Austin's turn to have his head tilt back, exposing the long length of his neck to you as you move to nip and kiss at it. You pray that he bruises there, that there's a hickey or two for everyone to see he's yours. Against your lips you feel the rumble of his voice, rough as a gravel road. "For you? Yeah. Do anything for you."
A smirk crosses your lips as you finally pull away from his neck, noting the red bit of his skin and giggling softly. Your hand twists and your thumb brushes against the tip of his cock as you just look at Austin, marveling at how he keeps ahold of you, keeps you pinned to the door even as his breathing shifts and as he bites his lips to keep quiet. "Austin," you croon, "wanna hear it. Want everyone to know I got the hottest frat boy in my apartment. That he's gonna come undone because I'm jerking him off. Want everyone to know you're all mine. That you're so—"
Austin's lips slam against yours, causing a messy kiss of clattering teeth and bitten lips in order to get you to stop talking. Even with the distraction your hand picks up the pace, moving in a way you're pretty sure Austin enjoys as he whines and whimpers into your kiss. You could die happy hearing these noises. You want to hear these noises every second you can if he'll let you. He pulls away, trying to put some distance between you two because he meant to come during sex on your bed and not like this. Not like a horny little teenager. You deserved more.
"Babe— gotta— I'm gonna—" He can't finish off the thoughts though and your hand keeps moving as you clench your thighs together the best you can.
"Austin, baby please. Do it for me?" You flutter your eyelashes and pout in what is one of— if not the dirtiest trick you could use before you feel his body curl just so and tense up just enough that you know he's gone before you feel the warmth of his come covering your hand. If you're honest with yourself you can feel your pussy clenching around nothing and you wonder if perhaps you're in the same boat without being touched in the same way.
It takes you and Austin a moment to catch your breath, staring at each other in a bit of shock before he finally says something, moving to make it so he isn't pinning you against the door. "That— I was supposed to have sex with you not—"
You cut him off with a nuzzle to his nose, watching as his face scrunches up just a little. "You still can. I still want you to. Might have gotten off last night to the idea. Was hoping you would tonight actually."
Austin swallows and watches how you shift in place, still wanting more friction. "Yeah? Want me to lay you out on the bed and make you come till you cry?" He licks his lips at the picture he's inadvertently painting and you can't help but mirror him.
"I'd like to see you try, Butler," you answer with a smile, teasing him with the old name you used to call him in anger. "It'll take a while."
"I've got all night," he shrugs before his eyes move and catch on the yoga mat by the door. "And you're pretty flexible. Lead the way to your fate, babe."
You get a call about a noise complaint from your landlord the next day.
taglist: @ab4eva, @blurredcolour, @butlersxbirdy, @precious-little-scoundrel, @eliseinmemphis, @prompted-wordsmith, @lookingforrainbows, @araxw, @thatbanditqueen, @ellie-24, @austinbutlersgirl67, @heartbrake-hotel, @ccab, @18lkpeters, @slutforsomegoodlettuce, @dkayfixates, @kendralavon7, @chasingwildflowers, @slowsweetlove, @kxnnxy, @meetmeatyourworst, @purejasmine
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pocketramblr · 4 months
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5 headcanons for an AU where All might deflates in front of the crowd after defeating the sludge villain?
OOOOOOH now that's fun
1- it's quiet, for a moment, as everyone stares and tries to process what they just saw. Izuku, who saw the truth already, still is stunned for a second. And then he realizes everyone else sees too, and his feet move before he can think more about it.
2- Izuku needs everyone to stop looking at All Might as the crowd begins to murmur, shaking itself. Izuku knows that Kacchan is very good at being loud and the center of attention. So, 2+2=4, he gives Bakugou a little push into a hero and a civilian and let's that work out.
3- As the explosion begins, Izuku grabs All Might's hand and runs, down between two buildings that still smell like smoke and sewage. Mt Lady grows for crowd control, and sees where they go- but the look in their eyes makes her turn back to the crowd and block a few civilians from following. She pretends everything is normal, and she's an actress. If that really was All Might- and it had to be, she felt that power- he'll be grateful when she contacts his agency later to demand what happened. If it isn't, then she can point out that letting non-heroes follow a villainous impersonator of that power level would have been disastrous.
4- they go a few buildings further when All Might's feet drag and Izuku's burst of motion slows. He pants, and stops at the street. "Go one way, All Might, sir, I'll tell them you went the other way." He can still hear Kacchan shouting above the other voices, and Mt Lady arguing back, but they don't have a lot of time. "Yeah, no." Toshinori says, and drags Izuku instead into a store, heading for the clearance section and hats.
5- the good news is, most people had put their phones down at this point and weren't filming. The TV cameras had turned away to show the people cheering and the blond victim fine. The bad news is that some people still were filming, and the TV crew went back, catching sight of All Might's skinny back fleeing the scene as the crowd erupted. As Toshinori pays for a change of clothes for both him and Izuku, his phone starts to ring. He mutes it as they change and put on the hats. Izuku asks where they are running too, but Toshinori just goes two buildings down to a ramen shop and sits at a table. He points out that no is going to look for All Might at a restaurant a block from the crime scene, much less expect him to be casually eating there in an Endeavor hoodie and a ball cap. He thinks the bright orange FG jacket izuku is now wearing to hide his school uniform clashes horribly with the lilac beanie, but it works to make the few curls escaping to look less green. As they eat, Toshinori tells Izuku about OfA, and makes his offer. Izuku bursts into tears because he just ruined All Might's secret, revealed it to everyone, he doesn't deserve his quirk, and now that it's in the open All Might can pick someone else, the best choice. Toshinori disagrees, because all Izuku did was inspire him to save that other boy, which was more important. Izuku agrees to be his successor, numbers are exchanged, and after eating Toshinori walks him home just in case- but it seems Izuku wasn't identified, probably because Bakugou could only scream "Deku" when shoved, so Izuku gets a quiet night of pure stress to himself while Toshinori heads to ask Tsukauchi for a ride to Might Tower for a very loud and very long night of pure stress and demanding answers.
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staceymcgillicuddy · 8 months
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For the three word sentence prompts: Don’t you dare. Thanks 😊
Oh boy, this one might have inspired a whole new AU. The vague premise in my head is that Eddie spent a couple years in Hawkins before leaving for... elsewhere. But he still did the talent show. And kept up with Gareth, I guess. IDK! if people like it, I might flesh it out into a full thing of college girl Chrissy and bar band Eddie!
“Don’t you dare!”
The words are a whispered admonition; Shawna pays no attention and leaves Chrissy standing, mortified, by the side of the building while she marches over to where the band from earlier is loading equipment into a van. 
“Hey,” says Shawna to the curly-haired drummer, who looks like a muppet and a teddy bear had a baby. “You guys were really great.” 
The drummer stops cramming his kit into the back and turns, giving Shawna a once over and evidently liking what he sees. Which makes sense—she’s in a skintight blue dress with zig-zag green stripes, and her hair is teased and crimped like she’s Tawny Kitaen’s little sister. Or, big sister, considering the size of her boobs. 
Chrissy’s never had a friend like Shawna before. She’s half in love with her because Shawna is scary and brave, and mean sometimes. She does what she wants when she wants to, whether talking back to professors or flirting with bar bands in parking lots. 
“Hey, thanks,” says the drummer, leaning against the van’s edge and grinning at Shawna.
“Do you have, like, a tape or anything?” 
“Uh, we’re working on it. We play here every—” 
He’s cut off by the back door opening, where the reason Chrissy didn’t want Shawna talking to the band emerges. The lead singer, carrying an amp, looks every inch as terrifying as he did onstage, stalking around in tight jeans and a cropped t-shirt that shows his stomach and whose hair makes Chrissy think about Richie Sambora. 
Chrissy kind of has a thing for Richie Sambora. 
“Move,” says the lead singer, and the drummer hops out of the way with milliseconds to spare. 
“Hey,” says Shawna. 
“Eddie,” says the drummer. “This is uh… what’s your name, honey, sorry?” 
“Shawna. And this is Chrissy.” 
Chrissy’s feet shuffle forward before her brain can catch up. Shawna always does this—drags her in to talk to guys when she’s not even sure how she’s feeling about guys these days. Not since she broke up with Jason before the start of freshman year, then had some bad dates, and attended a disastrous frat party in the wake of her freedom. 
“Hi,” she says, only her introduction is drowned out by the lead singer jamming his thumb between the amp and the door. 
“Jesus fuck, Gareth,” he snaps at the drummer. Gareth, apparently. 
“What the fuck did I do?” 
“Move your fucking shit, man. I’m bleeding out for space back here. Hey, sorry.” That’s to Shawna, who he’s looking at with some interest. Obviously. Most guys look twice. 
“Hey.” Shawna nods, then tosses her head at Chrissy. “Chris, come say hi.” 
God, Chrissy should never have said she thought the singer was cute. Idiot. Idiot! 
Still, she goes. Takes Shawna’s hand and lets herself get pulled into her side and smiles at Gareth, then goes stock still when the singer—Eddie—gives her a once over. 
She fully expects he’ll find her wanting. Next to Shawna, she’s still a church mouse. Country mouse. Plain black dress and flats and her hair in a ponytail, and, honestly, she’d wear sexier things, but she never feels quite right in them. Life was easier when all she had to worry about was a cheerleading uniform on Fridays. Choices stink. 
To her surprise, though, Eddie smiles. Leans against the door of the van and says, “Chris, right?” 
“Chrissy,” she corrects, then feels dumb for correcting him. Chrissy’s such a babyish name, but Christine sounds too grown-up, and Chris is just for certain people who know her well. 
“Chrissy.” He tucks some hair behind his ear and smiles. He never once smiled onstage, and it’s a relief to spy some kindness on his face. “You liked the show?” 
“Uh-huh,” she says, which is mostly correct. The music wasn’t her thing, but she really liked watching him perform. 
“Cool. You guys from around here?” 
“We’re at IU,” Shawna supplies. 
“Cool, cool,” he echoes. “We play there sometimes, too.” 
Eddie won’t stop looking at her. He’s doing that thing that guys do where they have a whole conversation without transferring their attention, and it makes her want to squirm. That would be undignified, though, so she fiddles with the sleeve of her dress instead, and hopes to God that Shawna will pick up the loose threads of the fraying conversation.
“Like at parties, or what?” Shawna asks. 
“Sometimes.” Eddie cocks his head to the side, studying Chrissy closely. “Hey, question.” 
“Hmm?” 
“You didn’t grow up in Hawkins, did you?” 
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sadisticaltarts · 3 months
Text
In the Morning P1
Got some inspiration to start the fic that I did the snippet from, lets see where this goes!
No warnings I think, canon typical violence expected.
Prologue / P1 (You´re Here!) / P2
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*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
It had started like this; something new had been attacking the soldiers that ventured too close to the gates.
Hastily erected barricades had gone up around each site, with the government claiming it was for citizen safety, prevention from anyone “accidentally” finding themselves inside one of the “natural gas fissures” which erupted after the “earthquake”.
Sullivan seemed particularly smug as he stared them down as the announcement was broadcast. They’d established an uneasy truce in the circumstances but neither side was planning on blinking or turning their backs anytime soon.
Hawkins' regulars felt safer, Uncle Sam watching over them.
The irregular ones knew better. Those fences weren’t protection, they were containment. Soldiers patrolled to keep things in.
And now, something was picking them off. At first, the missing were attributed to defections. One or two guys, unable to stomach the mess that had become of the town or the creatures that burst forth intermittently from the hell below.
Then it became four, six, then ten. Never from the same place twice, no rhyme or pattern; too many to look away from. Patrol guards doubled up with no effect; the buddy system clearly not working for anything besides dying with company.
The Party suspected something new; the previous era of demo-creatures didn’t show any signs of strategy. It didn't fit Vecna’s previous MO of utilizing brute strength as he pulled the strings. No, this was something else, especially as both Will and Eleven both agreed that Vecna had been little more than vague goosebumps for several months.. whatever this was, had intelligence. It didn't fall for any of the traps laid and could tell when a patrol path was being set with the intent to draw out instead of monitor.  Those nights saw little activity, although there were complaints of feeling heavily watched.
There was also the added worry that this would fuel another attack against Eleven. Sullivan had barely held off with the disastrous state of Hawkins and the fact that he witnessed her being thousands of miles away when it occurred. All he needed was the barest of excuses to bring his dogs back on the hunt.
Having tired of being the proverbial fish in the barrel, a scout team was being assembled, with the plan to enter one of the less active gates and do reconnaissance.  Armed to the teeth, a contingent of four soldiers were prepped to drop into the Upside Down. 
Steve had managed to secure an invite by virtue of being both the oldest person “in the know” and with the most recent experience/exposure to it all. 
Invitation also implied he had a choice in attendance, but it was clear that one of them was going and he was not going to let them have any opportunity to take El if he could help it.
So here he was. Pinned facedown, deeper into the alternate version of Hawkins than he’d ever been. They might have been closer to the farms that surrounded the future Starcourt site, open expanses of fields he couldn’t recognize in their darkened and decayed state. 
He was the only one still breathing, the rest of the excursion were motionless lumps in his peripheral vision. 
He couldn't say what the bodies were, since none of them were still…intact. The bits were strewn around like gruesome confetti. There had been less than ten minutes between the first man going down and his subsequent state.
Maybe he’d be ashamed later, but he’d tried to book it once they realized they were under attack. He wasn’t going to risk his life for these guys, not when he needed to get back to the kids. 
Another soldier had seemingly agreed, and they’d run back along the path they came, dodging withered vines that threatened to trip them and caused them to slow down. After barely a few hundred yards, he’d heard a yell from the man, and as he turned to look, something had slammed into his back, dropping him hard.  The impact of the ground drove the breath from his lungs and caused him to lose his grip on the bat where it lolled uselessly out of reach.
The pressure on top of him shifted and he felt sharpened claws begin to dig into the meat of his shoulder as it started to pull it backwards.
He was going to die.
Steve closed his eyes tightly, utterly exhausted from his flight and subsequent take down. 
“Please…” he gasped, the constriction of his chest keeping him from taking a full breath. Eyes open now, unable to give up completely. “Please don’t kill me!”
As the claws stilled and withdrew, the weight began to ease slowly, as whatever gathered itself went up and away. Once it had left, he was able to take deep breaths and he filled his lungs eagerly.
When his gasps had subsided, a gravelly voice asked, ‘Now why would I do a thing like that?"
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zaynsxsoul · 2 years
Text
Drivers Seat | Eddie Munson x fem!reader
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summary: Eddie teaches you how to drive on his lap, until things get a little bit out of hand.
warnings: Smut +18 mdni, mild arguing?, fluff, pet names, teasing, fingering, curse words, sex in a semi public area, getting caught (kind of, not really), established relationship, slightly mean!eddie more guided towards foreplay teasing.
word count: 4k
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
When the soft season of spring tints the cheerful afternoon of yellow, green and pink shades perfectly over Hawkins, you believe the sublime effort of influence might work a little better.
There’s something in the warm sunset air that might make you believe the hopes are higher than you expect. Even for Eddie, an actively reluctant car sharer.
It’s not been long since the last time he —by choice— offered his van for ‘the wonderful works of teaching by Eddie Munson’. In his words exactly.
Until the wonderful works of teaching turned into the disastrous downfall of patience. 
It’s not that you hadn’t done a good job. You did, and he’s proud of you for it, he trusts you. How could he not? Being a perfectionist yourself made it a simple process, a flawless one actually. So, that’s why he would never dare to underestimate the effort you’ve put into learning.
But besides the fact that he was afraid of teaching you some of his wrecked driving traditions and turning it into a negative experience, there’s this specific thorny memory that’s made him a little bit reluctant nonetheless.
Nothing too deep but a certain flashback of your reverse day practice lesson. Everytime he goes back to that specific memory, you’re holding on to the steering wheel for your dear life, a screeching sound produced by the wheels, the van shooting backwards and your eyes closed shut accompanied by a loud scream.
And you’re sure that If it weren't for him, who expertly pulled the emergency brake and pushed away your almost glued leg from the accelerator, a certain house on the trailer park would’ve been in ruins by now.
Needless to say, you haven’t tried again ever since.
“Please, please, please!” The miracle that you craved to turn into reality is represented by the imploration of your voice.
All Eddie can do is laugh. An honest chuckle.
He’s enjoying it overall. Because you look pretty like this, fingers intertwined creating a praying sign, pouty lip and big puppy eyes vandalizing him from the passenger’s seat.
Just as he’s pulling over at Forest Hills Trailer Park, and his own place looks like it’s being acclaimed by cinematic pastel colors behind the tall slender trees, your attempt at convincing him seems more and more impossible to decline.
“I promise, I'll try my best. No laughing this time!” His hand movements are quick and expert, even with such a simple maneuver like turning off the engine and pulling the hand brake.
Your eyes, curious and observant, avert to this movement. Hoping that it sinks in and sticks when you yourself get to try it. 
The great —or maybe not so great for him— part of being his copilot, is to learn some tips and tricks that will eventually make the process easier for you.
Pretty dimples peek on the sides of his cheeks and gift you a toothy grin. Part of it has turned into a game. So his hand tries to soothe away your pouty lip by brushing your hair behind your ears with his ringed fingers before pulling you closer by the neck until his lips get to peck your forehead.
“No way, pup” He nods, hair moving along with the movement while simultaneously reaching out for the key inside the keyhole. 
Your mouth opens in disbelief, and he shrugs his shoulders mirroring your mouth gesture before speaking.
 “You almost crashed last time, remember? If Chief Powell sends you to a detention center for reckless driving, I swear to God—“
“But…” 
And he hates it. Or more like, loves to hate it. There’s always this silly little thing you do in which somehow your eyes turn him into complete mush. A pout follows,  and sooner than later he is agreeing to everything.
Best part comes next when that pouty lip is replaced by a cheeky grin that follows to praise him with lovely thankful pecks. 
“Do you…? Not remember the last time we tried?” And then comes the resistance part. In which he desperately tries to be rigid. 
Anything to avoid getting caught under that well known spell of yours.
Your hand plays with a shorter strand of his hair that falls perfectly right above the shoulder blade. He avoids a shiver.
“And I did so good, didn’t I?” Your arms are holding him now, cheek pressed against the curve of his bicep. Fingers curling the sides of his waist.
“I mean, I think you did, but go ask the Johnson’s poor trailer back there” 
He’s not attempting to be mean, it’s actually a lighthearted mockery. And he reassures it with a gentle caress directed to your arm.
He worries the comment might’ve upset you. Until your giggly laugh gives the comfort that it wasn’t too much. When that has settled him, he gets out of the van and opens the passenger door for you.
“M,kay, let’s get inside, I'm starving.” He waits for the usual jump you do every time you get down his van. 
One that never comes.
To leverage his hand that’s holding the door, you take the opportunity to unclip your belt and crawl over to the driver's seat. And although his entangled hand tries to capture your ankle, you’re already settled in front of the steering wheel. 
And he might melt right there when you’re smiling like that. Full display of two bright pearly white rows that might shine brighter than any star he’s ever seen or imagined before.
 His hand theatrically lets go of the door handle and plops against his hip. You love the way his husky laugh sounds when he drops his head to his feet and then his eyes look right back at you. Because it most certainly gives away the pure feeling of surrender.
And although he’s already defeated, the teasing always sits right.
“Cute, but you’re not going anywhere without these,” He flashes you the keys that dangle from his ring finger. “Just give up already!” His sarcasm is adorned by a chuckle.
“Oh come on Eds! I made a mistake once!” Your frown is genuine. 
He understands then that the roots of loving to tease you, might come from how adorable you look like that. 
“More like crashed a trailer” He corrects before closing the door shut and switching sides.
“Once” You add optimistically when he's opened the driver's seat door for you. “you’re mean” you say, jumping off the van.
Always sweet, he grabs your face from the sides and pecks your lips, incarcerating the lower plump skin playfully between his front teeth before pulling away and jumping up the van again.
“No I’m not” He blinks expectantly. Lovingly. “So? What are you waiting for? Get in, trouble” And when his hand pats his own thigh before extending it to assist you, excitement strikes in again.
“You mean like, to sit on your lap?” 
“Yeah, I'm um, manipulating the brake and accelerator, that’s the only condition.” 
When his hand begins to drop, you grab it. He closes the door giving you time to adjust yourself on both of his thighs. 
Since the steering wheels rest significantly lower than usual in front of you, he tries to adjust the seat, aiming to find the most comfortable working angle specially for you.
“You’re bossy” And when you say that, his eyebrow is defying. “I’m kidding!”
“You better be” His lips melt against your puckering gesture. “Alright, now pay attention. Just like we practiced last time, m’kay? Look at my foot on the break, now turn the key.” His indications are simple, and his endearing caresses on the sides of your hips that play with the loops of your jeans are even more than reassuring. “Then gear, put it in drive, and release the hand brake.” When you do, he applauds. “Well done, pretty”
Once he releases the break, you adjust the steering wheel, and before noticing it, you’re driving the van around the streets that surround the trailer park.
Pink orangish colors kiss the gray pavement that lies ahead of you. It 's soothing.
And he would be lying if he said your smile isn’t mesmerizing like this. Because it mirrors the happiness that lingers deep down in your heart. It’s pure undeniable satisfaction. And for Eddie to know that he helped build that, is rewarding.
His praises feel heavenly in your ear. The faint caress of the tip of his nose against your neck along the soft weight of his chin over your shoulder, is soft and tender.
His hands wrapped around your waist might as well work as a safety belt, buckling you up near his chest that vibrates when he’s humming mellowly whatever rock song shuffles on the radio station. 
And although you can feel his foot below your calf controlling the pedal, the pride that you feel of yourself and what you’ve accomplished so far, can be seen just by the look on your face.  
And he feels that way too. Praising prouder than ever.
 “You’re doing so good baby” Your silent and concentrated smile followed by his voice again. “You know I was just messing with you, right? About the whole, crashing the house and wrecking stuff.”
“I know you were” Your voice is reassuring on his guilt, although it might sound quite more serious than you wanted it to out of concentration. 
“Good, just wanted to make it clear” Eddie’s curious hand travels to the soft warmth of your inner thigh, stern firm fingers moving in circles on that doughy skin.
And it’s embarrassing to like it as much as you do. Even when your lip is tucked under your teeth and your back has arched against his chest.
“Stop it.” You laugh, quickly moving his hand away.
And you love the well known mischievous giggle’s that belongs to Eddie, because you know he’ll eventually find his way back to the same vulnerable spot. 
But as for now, his hand decides to stay still, play a little game to enjoy the glorious feeling that he adores when your body responds to his approach. 
The fingertips that belong to his left hand draw invisible, vague circles on your thigh, right above your knee. The left arm decides to stay closer, and travels through the bristling skin of your lower back all the way to your right shoulder blade. 
And it stays there, vehemently happy, until the index finger takes a leap and pulls down the fabric of your shirt. It uncovers part of the gentle skin of the back of your shoulder, adorned by a black laced bra. 
“Cute,” His quieter tone is accompanied by warm lips that brush against the naked area. 
The warmth on them makes your breath grow heavy and nails to dig onto the hard material of the steering wheel. It makes your belly flutter and a warm pit of fire grows there too. Even more when his lips ghost just very slightly in a linear motion, barely wetting your skin. 
Easy goosebumps grow and touch his lips when you get to feel, right through the gruffy jean fabric that separates your bodies, the way his bulge protrudes longingly. Hungrily. It’s expectant for the hope of a magic trick in which the barrier is suddenly eliminated. 
“Fuck!” You yelp, and his hand quickly takes hold of the wheel and part of your hand pulling away from a badly placed metal trash bin that covers a road bump.
His foot presses the brake pedal, the car stops with a soft thump. The remains of a sunset are gone. Nothing other than a dark deserted road ahead of you and an almost crashed bin. 
There’s back the look of agony in your face and the red cheeks that give it in. You’re embarrassed. But just when panic is near, he laughs and it choruses along the faint sound of music that still plays. 
And for as much as you thought it would be awkward, it’s most definitely not. He makes it feel safe.  
“I’m sorry” You say. 
He hates to see you this embarrassed. Even more when it was his fault. 
“If you don’t want me to touch you just say it” And his ironic comment makes it all better. “You okay? It was my fault, sorry”
“I’m okay” You nod, smiling, shifting in his lap. He groans. “Sorry. Did I hurt you?”
“No, no.” He reassures quietly. “Let’s just head back, alright? it’s already dark, don’t wanna risk Chief finding us out here” His voice is raspy, breathy, lower. And you know what he’s up to. “I’ll adjust the wheel”
“Who said I wanted to leave?” The echo of your voice makes him dizzy.
And when your hands move his palm away from the steering wheel and inside your shirt, he’s a complete goner. 
Your body feels nice over his lap. Cold curious fingers squish your tits. And you move again, teasing his aching cock. 
Your cunt is warm, even through your white shorts. And he could swear the beating of his heart is so loud on his eardrum that it could be heard from miles away.
His eyes roll to the back of his skull, the feeling too good to be handled. 
“Drive, Y/N.” You don’t. 
And when you move again, his flustered face hides on the crook of your neck. For as much as he tries to hide the lust that reciprocates and praises your movement, he absolutely can’t. 
“Fuck” He drags the word, both hands that seemed irresponsive until now, grab your hips. There’s a juxtaposition between trying to stop you, and pressing you down onto his needy bulge. 
He has always adored having you on his lap. It doesn’t matter in which particular way or position. There’s something about just having you there in general. It might be the feeling of the warmth of your body so near to him, the way your scent is more perceivable from there, or perhaps the intimate unique closeness that your cunt gives him from this position. Either way, it drives him insane.
The thought of interrupting the golden feeling of ecstatic sensations that seem to concentrate on the contra-producing touch, only makes him even more eager. As eager as you had been ever since he patted his lap a long time ago inviting you in. 
“Is that good?” You ask, drowned in an abyss. 
From this position, in which you’re a little higher than him, he gets to notice the radiance in your cheeks, the lively one, the pure bliss that emanates from the warmth of your exhilarating body. 
And when you’re like this, accompanied by ecstasy, his head bends with a dizzy movement forward. The way you straddle his lap with such gentleness and careful fondness makes his poor aching throat produce a loud groan. 
He might be obsessed with the way your back leans against his chest, the way your ass traces vaguely distracted circles on his clothed cock, your head falling backwards supported by his shoulder, your lips pecking his temple, the way his lustful bulge grows under your movement. 
And all of the sudden he’s aiming to touch your open and inviting mouth. It’s a movement that woes and praises you in every way that he’s able to. In a way you deserve to be praised.
There’s this wolfish grin he aces every time, something that’s very much his. But this time you’re the porter of the smile, complimenting the desire he had inflicted upon you, mirroring what he owned. 
His arms around you, rest a just centimeters below your chest. 
“Shit, If you don’t stop right, now I swear I’m gonna—” His mutter is low, coming out like a growl more so. 
And you say as he asks, moving away, at least for a few seconds. His frown turns into a grin when you’re facing him now. And although the night has already sinked in, darkness secluding the empty streets, you can still see his brown and shiny desire filled eyes that do nothing more than stare down at you, begging for closeness. 
He shivers when your tongue debuts the first waltz behind the soft tender spot behind his earlobe, sloppy kisses belittling his sensitive skin. That special spot you know so well. Warm tongue plays and draws unperceivable figures, as the intoxicating taste of his skin crawls down to your taste buds. 
A mix of bergamot cologne, traces of cigarette smoke and the smell of his honey shampoo scent that lingers to the smell of his own fragrance is what it takes to drive you to the verge of madness.
“You look so good” He half grins when you whisper the compliment in between kisses, until your teeth are biting his earlobe. 
His way to thank you, is to caress the naked skin of your thighs. Speechless, too deep down the rabbit hole.
“Why so quiet? Weren’t you the one trying to make me fail my lesson, getting all handsy on me?” Your playful voice is far away from being offensive. 
Your hand takes a short trip down to his clothed painful cock, until it’s cupping it, with vague movements that follow an up and down motion. 
Sneaky whispers let him be aware of how amazing it would be to taste the salty drips of cum down your desirably bruisable throat.
And he moans. Loudly. Clearly. Back rolling against the old used leather seat.
 Until he thumps the seat all the way to the back, only to be allowed to pin you against the van window. Loving the devilish smile that embellishes your lips once the rings on his fingers make you shiver under his touch. 
“The fuck do you think you’re doing, huh?” His lips tickle your own when he’s brushing them with every word he breathes out. “Why are you being such a tease?”
Your shrug incites another question. “Do you enjoy making me suffer? Cause’ it's working, you little brat” His tone is serious, but his mellow chesty chuckle makes it far away from being a real scolding.
“I’m not sorry” From this short distance, his hair tickles your nose. And although he still has you sideways on his lap, he manages to pull you closer. 
“You better not be” He murmurs expectantly. 
His hand manages to take off your shirt. And when your upper body is free from coverups, he praises the black bra he complimented earlier. “Wearing this for me?” You nod. 
He’s found himself around teasing too. Licking the spot between your jaw and ear, right after taking a handful of the squishy skin that belongs to your —already free— tits.
“Gimme a kiss” You beg. You don’t have to, but still do.
While obeying the first plead, his hand fidgets around the mushy skin of your lower belly and the zipper of your jean shorts. Pointer finger traces soft movements around your clothed cunt. Your whimpers work like fuel on him. 
“Do you want this?” His lips peck your jawline tenderly. one. two. three. four times in a row. until it turns into one too many times to keep count. You nod. “Say it” Two fingers toy with the crease between your cunt and your inner thigh. “I think you deserve a reward, don’t you think?” 
He looks beautiful under the moonlight that creeps through the windshield window. 
“I need you. I really do” You beg in his mouth, without a stutter, but deep down lies the feeling of embarrassment after agreeing. 
Which is short, because it's followed by the pure excitement of the yearning feeling of release. 
“Words, baby. What do you need?” His teasing is physically hurtful. And it tantalizes your ear.
“I need you to fuck me” The last two words being softer than the rest. The red in your cheeks is overwhelmingly sweet.
And he’s tense by the mere needy tone in your voice. Mind getting foggy of lust at the thought of giving you what you so desperately seem and feel to need.
“As you please” 
Your jaw drops down to a tense ‘o’ when his hand slithers your shorts down to your ankle and they get lost somewhere near the passenger sit. And there it is, belonging to him again as it always has, the wolfish grin enriched by an attractive chuckle. 
He adores the feeling of your dripping swollen cunt that hugs his thigh, as much as you dote the harsh texture of the warm ruined fabric grazing you. The friction feels illicit, almost unreal. 
His eyes welcome every single reaction and contortion your face does. The way you look almost as if you were about to burst down into tears. 
“Look at you, all ready for me” His whispers only incite more sticky fluids to run down from your warm middle and create a puddle on his jeans, one that you’re embarrassed of. Although he couldn’t care less of them being ruined. Like, at all.
He might actually thank you for it.
“I’ll make you feel so good, whole Hawkins will be able to hear ya’.” And he sounds different, his eager tone is captivating. 
His pointer and middle finger tap twice your closed mouth  “Open?” And you do. The warmth of your tongue sucks them in. And it makes him salivate in bliss.
Because in between the cloudy fog on his mind, he pictures how pretty your mouth would look wrapped around his twitching creaming cock. 
His ringed hand lowers leaving a steamy line of spit down your chest, until his fingers stay in the weak crease between your legs and pubic bone. 
“Fucking shit” He groans enthusiastically when you twitch under his touch. 
Your breathy cursing works wonders on him, even more when his fingers toy around that area, never touching the spot that really aches for him.  
“Stop with the teasing” There’s something about your tone that makes him wobbly. 
That same hand grabs the sides of your face and pulls in for a kiss. You mourn his touch until he drags the dripping fingers around the curve of your lips. 
“Careful with the attitude” 
Expert fingers that know exactly what you need, finally put you out of that misery. And moves away the poor sticky underwear fabric. 
After collecting some of the sticky mess, he flexes two fingers until they’re lost in between the chaos you’ve got hiding down there. Your breathy whimper thanks him.
Cunt soft, warm and swollen, throbbing against his thigh. He loves every second of it, probably as much as you do. Probably more than you do. 
The proximity is such, that in any second you might melt into one. Even much so that you can feel how his lips mimic the arrival of a smile. And you mewl. Loving his proximity, wishing for more. Not oblivious to detect the ecstasy he experiences by observing how you twitch under his touch. 
You whine and he tries to be as careful as he can when he’s eloquently drawing circles around the folds of your swollen cunt, just right next to your clit. Not touching the pearly bud directly. 
He knows that it can lead to overstimulation, and it might hurt you. It has happened before, back when he was freshly understanding the way in which your body reacts.
He adjusts you until you’re comfortably placed over his cock. And he makes up for any second that you missed his touch. Lips meet your naked shoulder, kissing and sucking out of pure love and adoration. Hips rolling in an unrequited movement. 
Your spongy walls welcome his fingers, and just as he’s menacing to pull away, you suck him right in again.
“Eds, I need to-”
 You don’t have to tell him. He knows. He’s known for a while. Ever since you began to reciprocate his distracted humps and joined his panting. He knows even while being lost in his own euphoria produced by your movements that do give him some sort of relief.
“Do it, go ahead” His entranced voice motivates you “I know it feels good, you’re so tight around my fingers” 
The well known blissful feeling builds up in your lower belly, expert fingers move in and out at a deliciously illegal pace. It burns, in the best way possible, the contractions hug his skin, and he kisses your neck lovingly. It never seems to be enough closeness “Come on babe, let go.” He creases, flexes and points his fingers towards that gummy spot that palpitates heatedly “You’re so warm, I can’t wait to—“
Your chants, squeals, and contortions only advertise the approximation of the desirable break through that comes like a heat wave. Your legs fidget above his palpitating lap, a blank delight wraps your head around. And your orgasm coats beautifully three fingers that are still inside of you. 
He loves every second of it. Hips still rolling hungrily below you. And his poor raspy voice mumbles things you can’t understand. His fingers seem to explore some more, before his body shivers under yours and he leans forward finally letting go a long restrained groan, one that longed to be released.
“Son of a bitch” Strings of his own, stain his jeans. You can feel it. A merciful whimper breaths on the back of your skull until his release is there too.
The cozy silence afterwards is soothing somehow. The music works again as a companion. And when you’ve settled, his fingers slide out of you gently, a hot mess pools out and slides from your inner thighs down to his lap. 
He caresses your lips, and he’s smiling all of the sudden. A smile that quite reminds you of what he looks like when he’s drunk. “Love you” 
“I love you, teddie” You mutter back.
There’s something about the way he cleans your thighs so lovingly, with an admirable gentle touch, that makes you feel gooey and dizzy inside. It’s moments like these when he’s so vulnerably real, so bluntly himself, that remind you how much you truly love him. 
He kisses you tenderly, he yearns to stay there forever. And he would’ve if it weren’t for a flashlight that creeps through the window, one so bright that almost blinds you. 
Light that's accompanied by the not so happy face of Chief Powell, who seems like he hasn’t quite made up what’s going on inside.
That’s when you’re thankful for Eddie's tinted windows.
You leap from his lap onto the cold passenger seat, and dress in a record time duration, terrified. Wondering until now why you were completely undressed and he wasn't.
But he 's laughing. Straight up laughing. Calmly swiping the sweat off of his forehead and your sticky pools from the sides of his mouth and jeans. He's so giggly you have to pinch him, he reacts with an exaggerated ‘ow!’ before rolling down his window at the same time he moves hair out of his face.
The night breeze is freezing, but not as much as Chief Powells facial expression. Your heart beats fast, and the only thing you can do is to pray for him not to notice the obvious smell of sex and every other clue that calls you out.
Eddie’s hand waves innocently, kindly. And his smile is so stupidly real, it might’ve fooled the man.
“I would really like to know what you kids are doing parked in the middle of a deserted road at twelve in the morning” Eddie’s boyish laughter is cocky when he looks at you, but it doesn’t last too long when without any words needed your eyes say ‘shut it’.
“Uh, learning how to drive.” He says. “I mean her, not me” He points at you. He 's believable. “Streets are not crowded at this time, so it was the perfect opportunity” 
Powell nods. Not because he believes you entirely. He doesn’t. But he’s also tired and just wants to go home without making a fuss about it.
“U-Huh, well I hope you’re not up to trouble again boy, don’t wanna have another talk with your uncle, you hear me?” The man almost pleads to Eddie, his hand pats his shoulder.
“No no, not at all. We’re done, right?” They’re both now looking at you. And your eyes widen before you nod, subtly squeezing Eddie’s arm.
The man agrees, and before leaving, he gives a short lecture of not staying too long on deserted roads since it could get dangerous. He wraps up the conversation by waving goodbye.
When he’s gone, Eddie rolls the window back up.
And he’s laughing again. Clapping his hands before grabbing the sides of your face and shaking it back and forth playfully. You want him to stay this happy forever.
“Oh my God” You’re laughing too, although it’s more out of nerves than raw fun. “Do you think he…He didn’t-?” 
“Maybe he heard how good I made you feel.”
“You’re being cocky”
“And you like it, don'tcha?” You slap his thigh, it’s still wet. 
“No, no, no, don’t get all shy on me now.” 
And again, like a disgustingly cheesy magnet that you love, he’s pulling you closer. Like he can’t seem to get enough closeness. Like you can’t be away for too long because it’s painful. 
And maybe it is.
“Remember what I said, right? I’ll fuck you so good everyone will be able to hear you” 
And although you shiver excitedly at his vulgar whisper shared by the thought that invigorates every pore in your body, he’s still got you laughing silly again with the simpleness of his lip brushing yours.
“Cocky” You purr. He smiles.
“Shut up”
He turns the key. And when he’s driving again, he wonders if that beaming grin will ever leave him tonight. 
Hating the distance, you hug him again.
 And his free arm welcomes you happily. Heart burns from craving, guided by that specific well known gut churning feeling;
 Love.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
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mae-gi-writes · 1 year
Text
A TURN OF PRIORITIES . PART THREE | BANG CHAN 
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Synopsis: What happens when you and Bang Chan decide to fake a relationship for the sake of making your ex-boyfriend jealous? A turn of priorities, that's what.
PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE
——
It’s kind of scary how one thing leads to another.
You’ve never taken yourself as a believer of karma. What goes around comes around, is what they all say. You wished to destroy your boyfriend’s new love life, and you’re now facing a destruction of your own.
You have a crush on your best friend. On the guy whom you’ve seen cry in the movie theatre because of some stupid romcom, on the guy who literally burns himself every time he pulls something out of the oven, the guy who blushes with embarrassment at everything and who has an obsession over Marine animals.
You have a crush on Bang Chan. And you’re not sure how to make it go away.
To top it off, you can’t even talk about it to Minji, considering that she thinks you’re already going out with him.
After the disastrous call that occurred between you and Chan that particular afternoon, you’d kept your phone on silent and hadn’t dared check your messages for fear of what you’d find there. It’s been two days since and you’re busy frying eggs for breakfast when the sound of your ringtone — sounding eerily ghostly in the silence of the flat — breaks through like an alarm, causing you to flinch.
You check the caller ID, before quickly pressing onto the green button and placing the device at your ear, “hey Minji.”
“Good morning sunshine, so I’ve heard you and Chan have been having a little fight?”
“What?” Your voice comes out a little louder than expected and you try to tone it down when you ask, “what are you talking about?”
“Oh don’t act innocent Y/N, I saw Chan in Chem today and he looked like his dog died or something. It was obvious something was wrong,” she says and you picture her rolling her eyes, “what happened?”
“Nothing happened,” you say firmly, hoping that it will be enough to persuade her in leaving Chan alone, “he’s just having a hard time because of exams. You know how stressed out he can get.”
Minji hums, “shouldn’t you help him out? He looks like shit.”
“I have,” you lie smoothly. The lies come out so easily now, it’s been such a long time since you’ve been truthful to her. A pang of guilt hits you straight in the chest.
“How about bringing him along to Eunchae’s christmas party? She’s a classmate of mine and she’s throwing one at her flat complex because her roomies won’t be here this weekend. That might cheer him up.”
Eunchae? Not that Eunchae, surely?
“I don’t think I know her.”
“Chan might, we’re in the same Industrial Design class.”
Oh. Well. That explains everything. Of course you don’t want to show your face there. Nor do you think Chan will.
“I’ll talk to him,” you hurriedly say and quickly end the call so as not to sprout any more lies. Then, opening your messaging app after what seems to be an eternity, you scroll down your list of contacts until you click on Chan’s name.
Y/N: sup bro.
Sounds innocent enough right? You can almost imagine that nothing had happened these past two days.
Taking your eggs out of the frying pan, you lay them neatly atop your two slices of toast before heading over to the tiny dining table in the corner. As you sit down, a notification pops up. Chan’s reply.
Chan: ???
Chan: I’m confused…
Y/N: About what?
Chan: are you secretly stalking me?
Y/N: …now I’m confused.
Chan: open the door.
Y/N: ???????
On cue, the doorbell rings and the sound makes you jump, yelping slightly as you do so. Talk about coincidence.
“Hi,” Chan grins at you when you open the door, not seeming at all upset by what had transpired two days ago. Not that you’re going to remind him. It’s none of his business, after all.
“Not to be rude or anything but isn’t it a bit early for you to be here?” You ask when you glance at the clock that reads nine in the morning. Knowing Chan’s bad habit of playing till the sunrise on days he doesn’t have any lectures, it’s quite a surprise to see that he’s up and functional so early in the morning.
But you regret it the moment the words slip past your lips, for Chan’s face suddenly takes on a color so red you might think he’s gotten sunburnt in the span of a few seconds.
You don’t have to put two and two together.
“I was…uhm…I was talking to Eunchae.” He hurriedly adds, as if to make up for his pathetic excuse, “about our chem assignment from last week—“
“Oh cut the crap Chan,” you interrupt him quite rudely, plopping yourself down at the table before resuming your breakfast as you motion for him to serve himself, “were you on a date?”
“I—uh—well, no. We were—studying together. Yeah.”
You scowl and he quickly goes to grab a mug to evade your stare.
“So,” you ask while he pours himself some coffee, “so why are you here then? Isn’t it a bit rude to ditch your real girlfriend for your fake one?”
“I actually wanted to see how my best friend was doing,” he shoots you a pointed look over the rim of his mug, “and like I said, it wasn’t a—a date.”
“You’ve seen me. Happy now?”
“Wow, what is up your butt today?”
“Nothing,” you look away, clear your throat, “nothing at all. Just—“
You break off without saying anything more and the silence is enough to cover whatever excuse you were going to come up with. The argument from a few days ago rings in the back of your mind and you wonder whether he’s as tormented about the topic of discussion as you are.
Oh, who are you kidding? He’s been on a date this morning. Clearly he knows exactly what he’s doing. Ad not feeling bad about it in the slightest.
And why should he? It’s not like you’re really dating!
“Hey,” it’s not his voice, but the touch of his fingers along your face. You blink, only to see him tucking a few stray strands behind the curve of your ear. An action he’s come to become familiar with from that last date. Still, it’s surprising, considering that Chan has never been so fond of touching other people.
“You wanna talk about what happened that night?”
Your eyes slip from his face to your empty plate. Something knots in the middle of your stomach. No.
“Nothing happened that night,” comes your mumble.
You feel him shift, and then, a soft lingering touch along the side of your arm. His shoulder, pressing into yours.
He’s warm. Warmer than you’ve expected.
A surge of comfort rises in the grooves of your chest.
“It really wasn’t a date, if you must know,” Chan’s mumble feels like a hundred knives pricking into your skin, “we were just working. Really—“
”I don’t care Chan,” you chortle.
He blinks at you, “Okay,” he drags out the word, then continues, “can I ask you something then?”
“What?”
“Why were you so upset that night? When I told you she liked me?”
“I wasn’t upset.”
He looks at you as if saying really? And unconsciously, your hands start moving around the cutlery along the plate; crossing them, uncrossing them. Crossing them.
“Okay fine, maybe I was.”
“What for?”
And that is when you give him a wan smile, “nothing that you should worry about, Chan. It’s girl things.”
“Don’t patronize me. That won’t scare me away like when I was younger.”
“Aw man, that used to work all the time,” memories of you taunting Chan about your period and the amount of blood drenching the toilet suddenly flickers through your mind, causing a small smile to dangle upon your lips, “but really, there’s no need to worry. I’m fine now.”
As much as you want to kick up a fuss about slowly losing your best friend to someone else, it wouldn’t be fair to the other girl for you to suddenly sprout your feelings out loud when he’s just gotten confessed to, especially when this is probably the first time since forever since he’s gotten a shot at normal dating life.
Who are you to interfere with his happiness?
“By the way, speaking of Eunchae,” you tell him right when he’s about to leave. Currently shoving his feet into his sneakers, he looks up at you, lips parted and in that particular moment, you feel you might kiss him.
“Uhm,” thoughts scramble as you try to stammer your way out of this sudden knot of flustered embarrassment, “will you be going to her party?”
“You’re invited?” He frowns.
“Y-Yeah. Minji invited me.”
Chan straightens then, body looming over yours and causing you to tilt your head up and— has he always been taller than you were? Your eyes flicker down to the arm slinging his backpack over his shoulder. Veins.
Oh, beautiful. You quickly snap your gaze away, “so, are you coming or not?”
“Are you?”
“Probably.”
“Then I’m coming,” a lopsided smile breaks cross his face, “can’t let my girlfriend go alone now, can I?”
Your heart stutters for a beat.
Your mouth opens, closes, then opens again. Speechless.
Chan merely chuckles before reaching over to ruffle your hair, “alright, see you tomorrow.”
“Bye,” you say blankly, not realizing that he’s gone until he’s halfway down the hall. It is only then that you manage to shake yourself out of this sudden reverie.
You quickly slam both hands cross your cheeks in growing irritation. Get a grip, Y/N! What is wrong with you?!
Girlfriend. He’d called you his girlfriend.
Not for long. But long enough.
——
You immediately feel like running away the moment you step through Eunchae’s apartment door.
The doorway is lit up with Christmas garlands — red and green and gold — partnered with fairy lights glimmering in welcome as you step through only to bump into someone’s back. The place is packed, god knows Eunchae is one of the popular kids at school, being one of the top pianists to be majoring in both music and science. The space is compact but open, with the kitchen on your far right separated by an island decorated in black and white marble. To your left is a spacious living room filled decked with vast couches of white-colored leather, on which sit a crowd of people engrossed currently engrossed in the Super Mario competition going on, shouts and jeers filling the air at intervals.
Regret pools inside your stomach and makes your mouth go dry. Maybe you should turn back, after all. You barely know this girl—
“Y/N!”
Shit. Too late. You swivel, coming face to face with none other than Minji. She beams at you, sparkly silver dress and heels to match, her face dolled up like a beauty pageant. She looks stunning.
“Hi,” you lean into the big hug she gives you, “there’s so many people here.”
“Yeah, Eunchae is a bit of a social butterfly. Let’s go say hello!” And before you can protest that maybe you should get a drink first, Minji is already tugging you along through the throng of bodies as the beats echo through the walls, seeming to come from the outside terrace.
“Eunchae!” Minji quickly directs herself towards a pretty girl with dyed blonde hair and a pretty smile who had been deep in conversation with one of the jocks that you recognized as Minho’s friend Seungmin, “hi! Thanks for inviting me!”
“Oh hey Minji, you made it!” Eunchae greets her back with a one-armed hug, then glancing over to you and grinning, “thanks for coming. Who’s your friend?”
“This is Y/N, you probably know her. She’s Chan’s best friend.”
“Oh!” Something lights up in Eunchae’s eyes, “so you’re the Y/N he keeps talking about. Lovely to finally meet you!”
You shake her hand, glad her fake nails aren’t piercing through your skin at this rate, “likewise,” you force a smile, knowing full well why Chan might be in love with her. You would be too, if you were a guy. She’s everything anyone has ever asked for.
Pretty, gorgeous, friendly…and most of all, a perfect fit for Chan.
“You haven’t gotten any drinks yet,” she remarks, grinning coyly before pointing at the marble counter on the far right, “please, go help yourselves. There’s everything but water.”
You find yourself cracking a smile, even chuckling a little as you raise a hand at her, “thanks, will try to find something drinkable.”
The party is now in full swing. Jeering, shouting, music blasting from the speakers and reverberating through your skull. With a glass of whisky and coke in hand, Minji doesn’t hesitate to drag you to the dance floor and together, you start swaying. The air smells of alcohol and sweat but you find you don’t quite mind, not when you’re busy enjoying the way the beats swim through your bloodstream as the alcohol takes over logic and reason.
At some point you feel a pair of hands fluttering over your hips. Turning with a scowl at the ready — and a fist curled just in case — you’re surprised to find that it’s Chan. But not Chan.
He’s gazing down at you in amusement, corner of his lips tilted and an eyebrow raised as if to as you what in the world you were doing. But he’s ditched the glasses and his hair is gelled up. His black t-shirt is fitted and the jean jacket he’s thrown over it subtly emphasizes the breadth of his shoulders.
You can’t help but suck in a breath. He looks gorgeous.
Instead you blurt out, “you’re late!”
“My bad,” Chan yells over the music and though it’s definitely not Chan behaviour to be touching you so casually, you actually don’t mind savoring his touch a little more and you lean in closer, slightly closer as he adds, “if it helps, Minho was the one who was late. I had to wait for him for thirty minutes.”
You chortle, rolling your eyes and take another sip of your drink, “d’you want one?” You wiggle it towards your best friend.
“Nah,” he shakes his head, nose wrinkling and you swear something clenches in your heart when he does that, “I’ll pass.”
“Weakling.”
He jabs you playfully in the ribs and you giggle, slinging an arm around his shoulder before dragging him to the dance floor. Minji appears a few seconds later with Minho in tow, hips swinging and with a smile so big it might tear her face apart as she hangs onto her boyfriend like he’s the only source of physical support. The act makes you turn away, gulp down the rest of your drink in hopes that it would take away the itch in your heart.
At some point in the evening you find yourself on the couch competing against complete strangers turned into friends, shouting as you urge your car to go fastest, dodging bananas and throwing your head back in laughter as the boy beside you received a red tortoise shell.
“Shit!” He buries his face into the pillow on his lap, “ugh! That’s it, I’m dead!”
You whoop in glee when the finish line appears on your screen, “And I won!”
“You’re just lucky,” he grumbles. Then, after a few beats of hesitation, reaches his hand out to you, “I’m Felix.”
“Y/N,” you shake his hand with a grin, “so I take it Mario Kart isn’t your forte?”
“You’re the one who probably rigged the game.”
“Oh I did not!” You gasp mockingly, “you’re accusing me right now?”
“Don’t lie to me, I saw the way your eyebrows were wriggling when we were playing.”
“Oh so I’m a witch now?”
He can’t help but laugh, “have we met before?”
“Not that I know of. I’m from the landscape architect major,” you lean back against the couch as someone else asks for the remote. You toss it to them before turning back to Felix, noticing the flecks of golden brown scattered across his face, “and you?”
“Bio-Chem.”
You throw your hands in the air, “why is everyone in Bio-Chem?!”
“Maybe because it’s the most popular major that our university offers?”
You shoot him a look, rising up from your seat to stretch, “I’m going to get a drink. You want something?”
“I’ll come with you.”
You make your way to the kitchen after having pushed through the crowd of people — it seems they keep increasing every hour — and it isn’t until you reach the kitchen counter that you spot Chan and Eunchae flirting, heads close together and giggling like sickly school children. It makes you want to hurl something.
Felix, unaware of your conflicted feelings, calls out, “hey Chan, man! Long time no see.”
“Hey,” Chan starts to grin, only for it to fall flat the moment his eyes find yours. Instantly, a frown clouds his brows, “you okay, Y/N?”
“Never been better,” you all but snarl, pushing past his figure to get to the fridge. You grab a new bottle of coke, pour yourself some. Grab the vodka to fill it up to the brim, the drink sizzling like a potion.
“You drunk?” Chan’s question throws you off guard. Spinning around to see him, a scowl imprints itself on your face, “not that it’s your business. But no, I’m not drunk. Thanks for asking.”
You don’t wait for your best friend to say anything else. Grabbing Felix’s elbow and pulling the said man out of the kitchen, you keep on walking until you’re finally out onto the terrace and the cool wind gently caresses your face, causes your hair to tickle your cheeks, cool them down. It’s a stark contrast to the heat along the back of your neck.
You hadn’t noticed it but Felix’s eyes are straying over your features, searching them as though you’re a puzzle he’s trying to decipher.
“You okay?” He finally yells out over the music, “you look like you’re gonna be sick.”
“I’m fine,” you force a smile. Then, you make a grab for his hand and tug him towards the dance floor, “come on!” You try to add some cheerfulness into your voice, “I want to dance!”
The hours easily slip by when you lose yourself into the music once more. You can almost ignore the small hole that’s slowly spreading across your chest every time Chan’s face flashes through your mind. Chugging drink after drink, you allow yourself to be woozy, to get drunk in an attempt to forget. You don’t want to think any more. You don’t want to hurt anymore.
So you keep on dancing. Dancing even if your feet hurt. Even if your heart is breaking.
Dancing even when Felix says goodbye because he has to go home.
It is only when a hand encloses itself around your arm that you whip around.
“What?!” You snap a little too harshly into Chan’s face, causing him to wince.
“You’re drunk<“ he says simply while dragging you out of the dance floor, “come on—“
“Let me go!” You’re turning and twisting against him, but he pays you no mind and that infuriates you even more. Hot tears start burning at the corner of your eyes as you keep on tugging at his grip, hating the way he thinks he can force you to see him when he’s the last thing you wish for at this very moment.
But Chan is too strong for you to compete, dragging you all the way to the bathroom before closing the door with a satisfied click.
Your body slumps against the closed toilet lid as a tired ache spreads through your calves, your legs. You’re tired. You’ve been dancing for god knows how long.
“What do you want?” You try not to slur your words. They come out slurred anyway, it’s easier said than done.
Chan lets out a soft sigh. He crouches before you so that his face becomes level with yours, and in his eyes you notice the concern swimming through those maroon pupils, hating the way it causes warmth to spread through your chest.
You look away, “stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you don’t know what to do with me.”
“I really don’t know what to do with you,” he shakes his head, “why are you angry at me?”
“I’m not angry at you.”
“So what are you? Why are you looking at me like that?”
The words scratch your throat like sandpaper. But you blurt them out anyway, “because I can’t stand seeing you flirt with that Eunchae girl. It pisses me off—“
“So you’re jealous? Is that what it’s about?”
“I’m not jealous—“
“Then what is it? I don’t get it Y/N—”
“I don’t get it either!” You yell out with such emotion it makes him take a breath. A sob escapes your mouth, the words broken along your tongue, “I have no fucking clue and it’s fucking with my head! And I’m so tired! I’m so tired of—“
Your words drown in mid-yelp when Chan’s hands cradle your face, pull you in, to crash his lips to yours.
You gasp, wriggling in his hold; this is all going to end badly—
But his lips follow yours like a magnet, kissing your next set of words away as they dissolve upon your lips.
He’s warm. His kiss is warmer, lighting a fire inside your stomach and making you all but melt into him with a soft sigh.
Chan tilts his head, mouth slanting even more intimately against yours as your nose brushes his. It’s intoxicating, the way his lips move against yours like water currents finding a rhythm, the way his hands slide to your hips to grip them in place, rooting you to his chest.
A shudder runs through you, hands sliding up to the back of his head. A small moan echoes from the back of his throat, he kisses you deeper, tongue gently sliding out to run along your lips.
You part for him like warm butter and a wanton breath falls from your mouth the moment his wet muscle meets yours in a dance, an unfamiliar one, but not unwelcome. You can’t help but grip him tighter to you, tilting your head to match his rhythm, him pulling you so close you’re almost tumbling onto his lap.
You swear your entire brain is filled with fireworks, sparks exploding left, right and center as he keeps kissing you like his life is about to end, like you’re never going to see each other again. He kisses, you note, like a man starved of oxygen and he’s suddenly found an addictive source. Like a man on drugs.
You’re so entangled with each other that you’re not sure where your bodies end and begin, limbs entwined like barks on a tree. And it isn’t until Chan’s thumb gently slides over your rib cage that you let out a pained whimper.
He stills, drawing back ever so slightly to look into your eyes. His pupils are dark, dazed and drunken on the scent and the taste of you. Nobody says a thing for a whole minute as you keep on gazing at each other through heavy lids.
His mouth is perfect, puckered and pink from your assault. He’s beautiful.
You’re fucked.
——-
Yup. Definitely fucked.
You barely escaped Chan that night, having muttered an abstract excuse and quickly slipping past him while he was still in shock of your whole encounter. You were secretly glad and disappointed at the same time that he hadn’t come for you, hadn’t followed you out, and as you trailed back home in your now-broken heels, you couldn’t help but feel like something had ripped at the hope that had built inside your chest.
But as the true avoider of problems that you were, you decided that playing it safe but just ignoring the elephant in the room is the wisest choice at the moment. God knows Eunchae does not need to know what had transpired between you two, especially not when there is hope for a budding relationship. They’re not even going out, and yet you still feel sick. Who are you to be interfering? Why are you always interfering and getting in the middle of things?
So you play it cool, taking the December break as an excuse to not see Chan despite his messages pleading for you two to meet. He still wants some clarification as to what happened that night, but your head is still just as muddled and you have no idea what to say to him.
Chan: Y/N, I really need to talk to you.
Y/N: hey dude sorry, I’ll be a bit busy the whole month actually. You know with Christmas and everything. Let’s talk in Jan when we have some free time :)
Chan: Y/N this isn’t funny anymore
Y/N: nobody said it was supposed to be funny. I’m just busy.
Chan: please
Y/N: …I’m sorry.
He hadn’t responded after that so you hope that somewhere he’s ignoring you to spend some time with the girl of his dreams. Eunchae had been the first to outwardly say that she liked him, and it wouldn’t be fair for you to now confess your feelings.
Then, there was also the issue of Minji bugging you to double date again because of that stupid Christmas market that she simply could not go alone. Turns out that she’s quite persistent about it when she turns up in front of your flat on a Friday afternoon, flanked by both Minho and Chan.
You would’ve laughed at how hilarious the situation is — your ex-boyfriend with the guy you’re crushing on, if not for the fact that nothing had been resolved in the first place.
“I told you I’m not feeling good,” you say weakly as Minji quickly ruffles through your wardrobe, chucking what seems fit for this occasion while the two boys are waiting in the living room, “you guys should go without me.”
“Absolutely not. Chan looks miserable because you haven’t hung out with him at all these days. What’s up with that?” She looks over her shoulder at you, lips pursed, “did you have a fight or something?”
“No! Nothing like that.”
“Then make it right please. He’s been boring us with all his sulking.”
You wish you could tell her. You’re really aching for a second opinion. But everything is now just a mess that you have no idea how to clean and telling her would mean that you’d have to admit to all the ill feelings that had built up inside you all along.
You can’t do that to Minji, not even when she had been the one to steal Minho.
“Y/N, promise you’ll make it okay by dinner time? I can’t stand Chan like this any longer.” Minji pleads, bringing you back to reality.
You blink at her, try for a weak smile, “sure. I’ll try.”
It’s safe to say that the whole outing is awkward, what with you and Chan trying to avoid each other’s gaze while Minji and Minho are the perfect couple in love. Something inside your chest burns with jealousy, like a wildfire that can’t be put out no matter how much you look away. How come they get to be happy? How come you can’t share this happiness?
"Waaah look at all those lights!" Minji bounces from one foot to the other as you enter the market bustling with commotion. It's almost christmas time and people are busy buying gifts, apple cinammon wafting through the air on one side, crepes and chocolate on the other. Merchants are displaying pretty christmas pottery while some are exposing christmas sweaters, calling out people from the street as christmas jingles fill the air with excitement.
Your eyes take in the mulled wine brewing in the corner. Dang. That looks appetizing. And you probably need it.
A tug at your coat causes you to turn, blinking up at your best friend.
"We lost Minji."
He lets go to resume his walk and something lodges in the back of your throat at his posture. It'a tense, hands in pockets, like he doesn't want to be here.
"Hey Chan," you're quick to put a hand on his shoulder, causing him to glance down at you.
"What?" His eyes are searching, looking around to not focus on you. Your heart tugs with pain and you say, "can we...talk?"
"What, now?"
"Y--Yeah."
There's a beat of awkward silence as you wait for his answer. Then, Chan's hand grabs yours before he tugs and as you stumble against him you can't help flashing back to the way he'd gripped you to him that night, with almost desperate passion to kiss you senseless. Breathless.
It makes you warm all over.
There's a small area away from the big crowd, cozy and intimate with warming stations. Chan orders two mulled wines and brings them over to you, perched on a small wooden bench just big enough to fit two intimate individuals.
Your shoulder presses against his as he takes a seat and hands you your drink, which you mutter out a thank you before taking a sip. To be honest, you're not quite sure what to say, what to do, despite this being your idea.
You just know you have to make things right.
"I'm...sorry," you mutter into your cup in hopes that he'll hear, the shame burning the tips of your ears pink, "about avoiding you on purpose."
He takes a sip, shudders, "I just need to know why."
You press your lips together, "I...I didn't want things to get all complicated, especially with ...with you likig Eunchae and everything--"
"Who said so?"
You blink at him, "huh?"
"Who said I liked Eunchae?"
He looks away while taking another sip, not quite meeting your eye. You must be dreaming to see the slight blush scattering his cheeks and your brain tries to wrap itself around the new facts being thrown your way.
"Y--You did?" Your remark comes off more like a question. You swear something combusts in your chest as Chan turns to face you, thigh brushing yours while he leans a little closer so that you can feel the warmth of his breath.
"I said Eunchae liked me, but I never said I liked her back."
"You said you wanted to try it out with her."
"Yeah I did," Chan's eyes flit down to your lips, back up to your eyes and something in those dark pupils make you shiver, "until..."
You watch him, unsure. Your words are a mere breath, "until?"
He seems to struggle for words and something like hope sparks through your chest at the thought that maybe, just maybe--
No. Impossible.
"Y'know what, we don't have to have this conversation. You and Eunchae's relationship has nothing to do with me and I shouldn't be interfering," you stand up as you speak, already set on walking away in hopes that he doesn't see the way your heart is breaking, hurting, "let's go find Minji--"
Chan's fingers close around your wrist. He tugs you with enough force that it sends you toppling, yelping as you try to balance your cup--
Only to land in his lap.
One arm laces around your waist, the other slipping up to grip your chin and tilting your head down to face him. At this point, you're almost combusting in place, skin breaking out into sweat and heat rushing up to your face.
Chan's eyes meet yours. They lock, searching, gazing so intently you wish to squirm. Your brain's turned to mush.
"I--I--I--" you're a blubbering mess, scrambling away in protest. But Chan's grip is strong and you're secretly glad you're in a corner against a row of bushes hiding you away from most of the crowd, for this position is more than scandalous, "Wh--What do you--What are you doing Chan?!"
"Y/N," his voice, unlike yours, is calm. Controlled. He's looking at you with a confidence that makes you bite your lip and want to run away.
"W--What? Stop--stop looking at me like that."
An amused smile dances across his lips. He leans even closer, and holds you still when you try to lean back, yelping slightly, "like what?"
His breaths are warm, smell like mint against your skin.
His cup is long done and crumbled on the ground, and he plucks your cup gently from your hold to place it beside his.
"I--I don't know, just--stop, you--you're making me nervous!"
"Am I? He chuckles, "that's new." Pausing for a beat to take in your features, you avert your eyes and decide to find a sudden interest in a loose thread hanging off his shirt, “tell me the truth Y/N, why were you really angry that night?”
“What night?” You mumble in an act of defense.
Chan Chuckles lowly, “the night at Eunchae’s party. Why were you mad?”
“I wasn’t mad.”
“Y/N,” the way your name rolls off his tongue is enough to make you shiver and shut up. There’s a moment of silence where he searches your gaze, prodding, eyebrows furrowed and intent on your face. And you, teeth biting down onto your lower lip as a nervous knot builds in the back of your throat.
You can’t help but break underneath his gaze, “I…” you trail off, not sure how to say it aloud without sounding pathetic or stupid, “I was jealous. I was angry because I was jealous of you and Eunchae.”
“Why?”
Your eyes snap up to his, “because,” you murmur out brokenly, “I—I can’t stand the thought of you with someone else, because it makes me mad to think about the time you’re spending with her, because…because I like you.”
There. You’d said it. Out in the open. And Chan, his face unchanged, shifts you in his lap to get a better grip on your hips, his eyes darkening with emotion as he stares you down. It’s almost as if he’s still waiting for you to continue.
Your hands start wringing themselves together in knots, hoping that the ground would magically swallow you up and steal you away from this very moment. God knows you’re dying of shame and embarrassment with the way Chan is drilling holes into your skull.
“Chan?” You call out tentatively, “can you…say something?”
He takes a breath. Stills. His whole body quivers and he looks away for a second, as if needing to catch his breath.
And when he turns back to you, you’re glad you’re already sitting, for the warmth surging through his orbs makes your stomach giggly and legs feeling like jelly.
“Glad to know I’m not the only idiot who's in love,” he finally whispers out.
It takes you a minute. You blink. The words replay in your head. Wait—did he mean that? Is that what he’s actually saying? Does he—
No. This is a mistake. It surely is. It can’t be.
He chuckles, chest vibrating and breaking you out of your sudden reverie, “what’s with this face? You look like I just told you I was going to go to the North Pole.”
“N—No, I mean—What—Chan, I thought you—but what about—“ you’re a babbling mess at this stage and laughing even harder, Chan pulls you a little closer before his hand slides up to the back of your neck.
He doesn’t hesitate to pull you in. You don’t fight him.
The kiss you share is soft. Tender, and unhurried. Definitely unlike your first kiss in Eunchae’s bathroom. Chan is warm and tastes sweet and bitter at the same time, the tinge of mulled wine on his mouth as he draws away.
There’s a dust of blush on his cheeks and you can’t help but feel the satisfaction from that. At least you know you have that much of an effect. If anything.
“What about—what about Eunchae?” You can’t help but blurt out.
Chan presses his lips together. Then, he shakes his head, “I really enjoyed the attention at first. I never thought anyone would ever be interested in me. To be honest, I was curious,” one of his hands reach up to rub the back of his neck. Probably in nervousness, “but I don’t know. It didn’t click. I found myself…wanting to see you.”
“Hmm,” you hum, fingers playing with the material of his shirt, “interesting. Tell me more.”
“Ah wait a minute,” he frowns, “what about you? What happened to you and Minho? I never thought I was on your radar, until—“
“Until what?”
“Until you—“ the blush is back full force, springing through his cheeks like a bushfire, “until you decided to snog me in the bathroom—“
You gasp, “you snogged me first! You’re the one who kissed me!”
“I—I thought that’s what you wanted!”
“Well—yeah but I mean—it was your move!”
“Okay okay, I just couldn’t help myself,” Chan mutters while burying his face into the crook of your neck, breaths warm and tingling the skin there as his nose skims over your skin, “you looked so pretty with that outfit and—I don’t know, you were jealous and I found it so cute I—I’m sorry. I should’ve asked—“
You scoff to hide the way your cheeks are flushing at his compliments, “good thing I did want to snog your face off.”
He grumbles, nuzzles even more into you if that’s possible. You can’t help but smile, arms tentatively wrapping around his neck to draw him closer into a hug. You want to feel bad for Eunchae. You really do. But right now, sitting in Chan’s arms had never felt so right. The butterflies are roaring against your rib cage, fluttering with such vigor you feel like squirming. You don’t have to check to know that you’re currently grinning from ear to ear. It’s a different feeling, like you’re flying.
You never want to get back on the ground.
“So—what do we do?” You ask after a moment of silence, “are we dating? Or like…”
He pulls his face from your neck with amusement dancing in his eyes, “well, I think maybe I should take you out on a date first.”
“Oh,” just the thought renders you into a colored mess, “right…”
“Are you blushing?” Chan tilts his head to gaze up at you in endearment, warmth flowing from his eyes and making you squirm in his lap, “n—no, it’s just— I’m not used to this,” you mutter back.
“Yeah well, me neither,” Chan murmurs. Then, before you can protest he’s already tugged you back into a full-fledged embrace, nose nuzzling your collarbone and arms gripping you tight against his chest.
“Hey lovebirds!”
You scramble out of Chan’s lap so quickly that you almost fall face first on the gravel. Quickly finding your footing and shooting up into a standing position, you find Chan doing the same as you spot Minji’s head popping through the bushes, a Cheshire smile curling upon her lips.
“Well well well,” she cheers, “seems you two made up, didn’t you?”
You scowl, stomping past her as you say, “come on, I haven’t seen all of the market yet.”
“Well wait for me!” She chirps with another giggle, bouncing up behind you before linking arms and chattering on away about how the Christmas decorations are the cutest this year.
Chan watches you as he follows close behind, affection filling his chest and a grin breaking across his face.
I love her.
——-
"What if he doesn't like it?"
"He'll love it Y/N," Minji says while brushing back a few stray strands from your face. She ties up your hair in an elegant half ponytail, topping it off with a simple black ribbon, "there. You look pretty. There's no way Chan can't find you attractive."
"I know, but how am I supposed to act with him now? It's so...weird..." you blush just at the thought of having dinner face to face with him, the thought of his eyes locking on your own so intimately...
Oh just don't think about it! You feel like slapping yourself in the face. Why does it matter whether you’re alone or not? This is what you’ve been waiting for all this time, wasn’t it?
“What if it’s actually really awkward and we don’t know what to say to each other?” Your mutter s louder than you expect and Minji looks down at you, hands grasping your shoulders as she takes in your words.
“Trust me,” she says with a firmness you can’t quite compete with, “you’ll be fine.”
The doorbell rings just as you’re about to answer her that no, you won’t be fine and nothing about this is fine. Minji hurries over to get the door, barely giving you time to get your senses into check before the it swings open.
Chan gazes at you, blinks at Minji, then back at you like he’s seeing you for the first time.
And when he speaks, he is breathless.
“Hey,” he says, almost shyly. Like he can’t quite meet your eye, “you ready?”
“H-Hi,” you stutter out, cheeks flaming in pink as you scramble to get your bag together before scurrying towards the door, all while ignoring Minji, “so—sorry, were you waiting for long?”
“No no,” he smiles at you and you swear a million butterflies explode throughout your chest at this simple action, “I just came, and—“ he pauses for a second, eyes glancing over your outfit before locking with your own. His smile widens like a little boy who one found with his hand in a cookie jar. Not his cookie jar, “you look nice.”
“Thanks,” you sound breathless as you answer, and quickly try to come back down to earth, “you too.”
It is definitely weirder to be hanging out with Chan knowing that there’s the possibility of romance in the air. It’s not everyday that you get to be so close to the one you’re crushing on. It’s only just recently that you got to see Chan as more than just a friend, like a man, and the thought is unsettling, yet thrilling. One you can’t quite explain in simple words.
He brings you to the movies to watch a christmas-themed blockbuster. You don’t complain, continuing on the stream of chatter as you line up for some popcorn. It’s almost as if everything is normal between you two. Nothing feels as out of place as it should’ve, and slowly you find yourself relaxing the more the evening wears on.
“So is this another one of your stupid romcoms?” You can’t help but tease him as you make your way inside. There are numerous vacant seats and you follow Chan up the stairs until he finds a suitable row.
“it’s not just a stupid romcom okay?” Chan hisses back, and his response causes you to grin in the dark, “stories have happy endings too, you know.”
“Yeah yeah, so you keep saying,” you tease.
“D’you wanna bet that you’ll love this one?” He raises a brow at you.
“Pfft. You’re gonna bet on my reaction?”
His stare is serious, it almost makes you want to squirm in place. Heat rushing to the back of your neck, you hurriedly add on, “alright alright, what will you do for me if I don’t like the movie?”
“You grant me a dare.”
“A what?“ You feel your heart drop. Surely he hasn’t just suggested—
“A dare. You get to do any dare that I order you too,” satisfied, Chan crosses his arms over his chest with a grin, “fair deal?”
“Wha— how is that fair?!”
“It’s totally fair…if you’re honest with me,” he sends you a pointed look.
In the end you had to agree, grumbling a little under your breath as you did so and Chan, grinning from ear to ear, had gently prodded your shoulder with his. You couldn’t help but smile at his action.
He’s not one for skinship. And yet, he makes sure you’re always feeling loved no matter the circumstances.
“So?” He asks as soon as the ending credits roll in, “did you like it?”
In the end, you’d had to agree and abide by his rules. The movie had been — in all honesty — better than expected, though you’re quite unsure whether it had been because of Chan’s company or because it was genuinely good.
“Fine, what’s your dare?” You ask sullenly as you make your way to the exit. You feel like a child about to sulk in a corner.
But Chan laughs lightly, bopping you on the forehead as he says, “ hold my hand, all the way until the end of this date.”
You blink at him, “what if I have to go pee?”
“Then we'll go pee together."
"Didn't you say you didn't like holding hands?"
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Chan stiffen, colour spreading through his face, "yeah well..." he mutters, "it was different then."
His reaction is adorable, and as you stumble out into the street -- night has fallen and there are more people bumbling about -- you reach your hand out without looking at him, eyes averted to the ground before you feel his warmth wrap arouns yours.
His hand is large, had always been in comparison to yours. Somehow, the way his fingers close around yours makes you see stars.
You find a cozy little restaurant on the corner of the street where the christmas market is taking place. It’s called “Le Coin Ideale”, a small French-owned cafe with old retro vinyls stuck to the wall and faded-out couches scattered all over the place like an expired, outdated living room.
“This is cute,” you can’t help but mutter out as you take your seat. Chan flashes you a grin while handing you one of the menus stacked atop the table, “I found it by accident when I was running late for my chem exam, once.”
“You? Running late?” Your nose wrinkles, “somehow, that doesn’t seem to make so much sense.”
“You know why?” He leans forward, the grin blossoming on his face with such mischief you almost regret what you said, “the night before, you had called me because you couldn’t sleep. And even though I knew I was going to shoot myself in the foot the next day for not sticking to my sleep schedule, I just didn’t want to let you go.”
“What?” You blink at him, astounded by what he just said, “wait, how come I don’t remember—“
“I never told you my exam was the day after. You would’ve killed me.”
In response, you slap his arm. He winces, yelping out a protest, “what was that for?!”
“For being an idiot,” you grumble and avert your gaze, heat spreading through your cheeks. How adorable. He’d actually sacrificed his sleep for you. “Don’t do that again.”
Ordering two cups of hot chocolate and sandwiches — at this point you were just too engrossed in what Chan had to say that you don’t care what you’re eating as long as it’s food — the two of you keep up the stream of chatter as memories flood in. He reminds you of how, back in high school, you would hide in the art room just to get away from the crowd. Despite being popular due to your position on the cheerleading squad, you’d never been a fan of too much attention. Chan used to hang out with you there, painting portraits of your face, your side profile, your eyes, as you spoke about everything and anything.
“I always thought it was weird that you were on the cheerleading team,” Chan admits while munching through his sandwich.
“Hm?” You frown, “why? I think I was doing pretty good.”
“Yeah you were. You were one of the best they had. But, I don’t know,” he lifts his shoulders in a shrug, “you never seemed to fit in with the rest of the girls. Most of them were unbearable.”
You can’t help but giggle, “they’re not that bad. You’re the one who just hated talking to new people.”
“Yeah maybe,” he grabs a napkin as he speaks, reaching up to wipe your lips without a second’s hesitation and causing your heart to flutter, “I don’t think I’ve changed that much since high school.”
You’re trying really hard to keep holding onto his gaze despite the amount of heat frolicking inside your chest. You feel like you suddenly can’t breathe.
“I—well, I think no one has,” your eyes avert themselves to your drink and you quickly take a sip, “but I think we’ve become better.”
“What do you mean?”
“We haven’t changed. We’ve just…blossomed. Into who we are supposed to be. We don’t have to change for that.”
“Poet Y/N strikes again,” Chan’s lips curl up into a smile. He lets his head drop into his palm, tilting his face to gaze at you, “aren’t you cute.”
“Shut up,” you attempt to kick his shin.
He yelps, pulling his feet back as far as they can go, “wow, this is how you thank me for complimenting you? I’m hurt, Y/N.”
“You’re so dramatic.”
“Just for you,” his face breaks out into a grin then. You can’t help but grin back, heart soaring at the affection swimming in his gaze.
If you’d had any doubts about Chan loving you then, the way he’s looking at you throws every doubt out of the window.
He’s just so beautiful.
The afternoon sets in with golden sunlight streaming through the trees adorning the park and, considering the nice weather — albeit for the frozen ice to be wary of — it’s the best occasion for a walk.
“Do you know swans mate for life?” You say as you skirt around a patch of frozen ice.
“Like, actually?”
“Yeah. They’re one of the few animals that do. It’s kinda cute.”
The sun is warm as it hits your skin, a great contrast to the cold wind trickling through your hair. You push your beanie down in an attempt to savor more warmth, “they’re a lot like humans in that sense.”
“Not all humans mate for life, though.”
“No, they don’t,” you pull a grimace, “though I believe that people would be happier if they just committed—woah!”
There’s no way to steady yourself when your foot goes swinging forward, body lurching back as a cry escapes your lips and if it weren’t for Chan’s arms grabbing a hold of you and pulling you to his chest, you would’ve probably gotten a big bruise all along your back.
“Thanks,” you stutter it out between chattering teeth. It’s suddenly a lot colder now, “jeez, that’s dangerous.”
“You okay?” Chan asks, arms still wrapped around your middle, not letting go.
You nod firmly and, as he slowly sets you right upon your feet once again, you notice his hand sliding down your arm to interlace his fingers with yours.
“Ha,” you can’t help but chuckle, glancing up at him, “smooth.”
He’s blushing. And yet, grinning like there’s no tomorrow, “I know.”
The rest of the evening is spent browsing through the various stalls. You try on funny Christmas hats, take photos of each other as you laugh, and get to buy some mulled wine along the way. Christmas songs are blasting through the air like a national anthem but you find you don’t mind, it when your heart feels like it’s about to burst with emotion at any given moment.
Afterwards, as Chan walks you back home — much to your protest since you live opposite ways — you ask him how long he’s been feeling this way.
His answer is a shrug, “can’t tell. I just know it happened very suddenly. One day you were just a friend, and the next—I felt like you could be something more,” he ducks his head in embarrassment, eyes finding the ground crunching underneath your feet, “the thing is, once I realized—it just made sense. You know?”
“Yeah,” a smile breaks across your face, “yeah I know what that feels like.”
Reaching your apartment too soon for your liking, you make a quick work of unlocking the door and quickly tossing your shoes aside by the wall, "woah, I'm actually very tired."
There's no response, causing you to look back at Chan, standing by the doorway and shuffling on his feet like an awkward duck.
"Uhm," his hand is back at his neck, eyes darting between you and the apartment, "I--I'm not sure I should come in."
"Wha--why not?"
"Because it doesn't seem appropriate," he blushes.
"Dude it's fine, it's not like you haven't been in here--" the thought halts you in your tracks. You bite your lip. Oh. Right. You are in an established relayionship now. It's different.
"I--I mean," you stammer out, turning back around to set the shopping bags on the table as a source of distraction, "Yeah it's fine. Just--yeah come in and stop being so awkward."
You pour him some hot chocolate and bring it over to the couch where Chan has taken his place, as still as a solid rock, and he paints such a cute picture of innocence that a grin breaks across your face upon tracing his features.
"You know, it's still just me," you try to lighten the mood in hopes that Chan would actually stop being so tense, "you don't have to sit so straight either."
"I know," taking a shaky breath, he relaxes back into the couch and it seems like a weight has suddenly lifted from his shoulders, "yeah sorry. I'm just still not used to--you know..."
"Yeah I do," your grin widens and without warning, you swoop in to peck his cheek.
He lets out a sound between a yelp and a gasp as you chuckle, "you're cute, Chan."
"Don't call me that," he narrows his eyes at you.
"But you are," you're trying your best to mask your laugh but it's impossible with him looking so offendes by your words, "I'm sorry, it's just--I can't it, you're adorable--"
"Don't test me, Y/N."
"Ooh, what's big boy Chan gonna do huh?" You lean over, eyes sparkling, "that sounds scary--hey!"
He tackles you without warning, knocking your legs out from underneath before grabbing hold of your wrists. You shriek, playfully kicking at him as he lets his weight press down on you, chest against chest, skin against skin. Pinning you down onto the couch with a breathless grin, he chuckles at the annoyance on your face.
"Not so chatty now, are we?"
His murmur washes over you. Warm, tantalizingly so. You feel youraelf melting under his touch like butter.
Is this how love is supposed to feel? He's barely doibg anything and you feel like your heart has wings.
"For someone so shy, you're quite bold," is the only thing that you manage to say, though your words trail off as his lips inch closer and closer, "Chan..."
His eyes are glazed over, dark with untold emotion as they zero in on your lips. The butterflies explode tenfold across your tummy, legs squirming together only for Chan's thigh to slide in-between to part them.
You gasp, the air catching in the back of your throat as you feel his fingers interlock with yours.
Goosebumps tickle along your skin and you swallow thickly.
He's rendering you insane just by being so close to you and you can't help but wonder; where did your best friend go?
"Y/N."
His voice is soft, raw with restraint as you still, breathing the same air for a moment. You wish you can look away because he's making you feel all sorts of things. But you find you can't, pulled in by the ghostly power of chemistry triggered between your two bodies. It's as if time stops, the entire world freezing and suspending you two in a small pocket of bliss.
You're brought back to earth by Chan's soft growl. His fingers tighten ever so slightly on yours, and you bite down onto your lower lip upon feeling a knot tighten at the base of your stomach.
Is he going to...
"I--" he licks his lips, "I want to kiss you," he pauses for a beat, then adds, "Please."
You gaze at him. Your heart skips.
Then, you dip your head into a nod.
And before you know it, he's already tilted his head to press his lips against yours.
It's not like the first time, desperate and eager and drunk.
It's neither like the second, tentative and soft and filled with all the things you wished you had told him.
It's tender, yet firm. Caring. As if Chan already knows what you want, what you need. You feel him, firm and warm pressed up against you like he'd die if he didn't. You kiss back slightly, lips nibbling on his and causing a small breath to escape his throat. reassurance, probably. But it makes you melt even further into the couch as he continues kissing your next breath away.
You can taste him. Smell him. He smells of musk and boy deodorant, the kind that makes your head all dizzy as his mouth slants against yours even more intimately, pushing and moving and tongue licking the seam of your lips. You whimper, mouth opening to allow his tongue to dance with yours as he pushes you further back into the couch.
It's only when you need air that you find yourself parting, breathless and chest heaving as you feel his nose brushing yours with eyes half-lidded like he's judt come out of a dream.
Ironic, considering that what he says next is, "I'm not...dreaming, right?"
Dishevelled locks and a pouty mouth greets you as your eyes flutter open, and something in your lower stomach churns at the intensity in his eyes. Dark and molten with desire.
"No," your murmur is barely a breath of air that caresses his face. He sighs before nuzzling his nose into your cheek, "thank god."
Impulsively, your arms wrap around his neck to pull him closer to you and he happily obliges, face finding thr crook of your neck as you pillow your cheek on the side of his head, pressing a small kiss there.
It's so magical, so surreal. Yet it feels so right to have Chan in your arms.
It's incresible what life throws your way. This entire ordeal had started as a fake relationship, an excuse, a means to an end.
And now, you couldn't inagine yourself living without it. Without him.
"I love you."
You blurt out the words before you can stop yourself and Chan stills in your arms. His head lifts slightly, eyes finding yours as one of his hands reach up to caress your cheek.
"I love you too," he murmurs, and another flood of fireworks cause your heart to melt and explode at the same time.
You can't help but kiss him again. He kisses back with just as much ardour. And you think this is it.
This is home.
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Venice anon here! the amount of times I’ve heard the words “miss Flo” in the past few days is astronomical. everyone is talking about the controversy, and the buzz on the quality of the film is pretty negative. I mostly work with international press, and everyone is very confused about the PR strategy and is expecting a train wreck of a film. you have to consider that there were some truly exceptional films screened in the past couple days, so people here have high standards. at the same time, if expectations are low and the film is just so and so but not terrible, it might be seen as a success. it’s hard to tell but everyone’s talking about it for the gossip, which is sad because I know in the past people were actually quite excited about it. The most common refrain is “I loved Booksmart but I’m afraid she’s lost the plot”. Don’t let whatever reaction there’ll be at the premiere mean anything — unless it’s insanely enthusiastic, I’m talking 6+ mins standing ovation — it’s quite common for films to be received with a lot of applause.
Just to give everyone a sense of how things go down: talent will probably get here around the 4th, there might be some event and i know that there’s no party on the 5th, just a very small cast dinner either on the 4th or 5th. Probably a photo op of cast getting to their hotel on water taxis (not gondolas ffs). Then on the 5th cast gets to the Lido (I’m assuming they’ll be staying in Venice proper) on water taxi, photo op, then press conference and photo call, both individual and as a group. If Florence doesn’t attend even just one of these, you’ll know it’s bad bad. That same morning there will have been 2 press and industry screenings, before the press conference and the premiere, so that reporters can ask questions after having seen the film. Now these screenings are where you actually see what the reaction is - applause afterwards is rare and industry people are notorious for leaving throughout a movie if they don’t like it. I’ve seen people laugh at very bad scenes, booing, the lot. Now I’m not saying anything this extreme will happen, but those screenings are where you get a real sense of how the film is going to be received and reviewed. I’ll be going to the very first screening so I will report back. As far as the rest of the day goes, cast gets shuffled to the Excelsior hotel where they get ready for the premiere, are driven just a few meters to the red carpet, then into the premiere. Then there’s usually, at least before covid, some kind of party or event, but as I said I’m told there’s just going to be a small dinner (this is not unusual this year so I wouldn’t read anything into it).
Hi dear,
OMG thank you so much for the insight! I'm so glad we have you "on the ground" to tell us what's been going on.
It's really unfortunate that there has been such a disastrous PR scandal. If anyone was excited before, I'd image just the level of drama Olivia created has made several industry people already go into it with a foot out the door. And if it is bad, then they might have less patience to be diplomatic and throw her a bone. But we'll see.
I'm very excited to hear your report once they arrive and you see the screening and the reaction!! Please please do come back and let us know what you witnessed and what you thought! <3
And thank you so much for giving us this info <3 So very kind of you. It sounds like it would be quite fun to work at such a huge film festival! So despite this drama, I hope you're having the best time!
If you see H give him a hug for me, or just send good vibes his way <3
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hauntedmoors · 9 months
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Okay the post about Rand's sexuality is here - you can expect spoilers up to and including A Memory of Light so you should avoid reading it if you haven't finished reading the series. Obv I don't think that a lot of analysis on psychology and sexuality were necessarily rooted in science or research in the early 1900s but Freud's theories have always had a lot of literary significance and that's how I approach analysing how the larger narrative interacts with RJ's deployment of the oedipal complex in the post and I do think the books intend to critique it, at least in part.
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the great hunt, chapter 16
Nynaeve and Moiraine are often both posited as potential romantic figures in the series if not in the same sequences in which Rand considers other romantic interests. They both go on to develop into Rand's mentor-mother figures in the series (as Lan functions as the mentor-father figure) and Moiraine’s death in The Fires of Heaven is very hard on him. Rand’s relationship with his various ‘mothers’ have always formed a very important facet of his characterisation - the first significant battle that Rand engages in at the end of The Eye of World involves the Dark One attempting to ‘tempt’ him by promising to resurrect Kari al’Thor, and it’s important to note that the Shadow is specifically involved in the attempt to lure him by using his mother - to succumb to Oedipus's fate is not a favourable outcome.
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the fires of heaven, chapter 7
The vision (in other terms, a prophecy) that Moiraine witnesses in the ter'angreal in Rhuidean hints at disastrous consequences should she try to seduce Rand and it's in direct reference to the prophecy that Oedipus would kill his father (see: The Gathering Storm), marry his own mother, and bring down a terrible tragedy upon his people. Once the first two elements of the prophecy are fulfilled in the myth, the kingdom is struck by a plague and the crisis is only resolved when Oedipus blinds himself and goes into exile. This is again vaguely familiar in terms of how the story evolves over the course of the series as Rand is blinded briefly, nearly kills his own lover as Oedipus nearly did, and dies in 'exile' from a home he never returned to for fear of betraying it to his enemies.
With the Oedipal Complex, Freud postulated that the journey to adulthood resolved itself as a 'heterosexual' development of sexuality while homosexuality represented an arrested stage of development. In the series, Rand notably describes Ishamael and Demandred as attractive people and also goes on to describe various men as individuals that women might like to consider as likely candidates for romantic interests - the former also signals Lews Therin's own implied struggles with homoerotic relationships with men; regret colours how he remembers the friendships he'd cultivated with them as he refuses to accept the reality that he's dead; or in other words, stuck in a state of stasis that he refuses to move on from - to develop, or, to mature. He warns against the dangers of male channelers and the Black Tower and cautions Rand against them, which is where a lot of the queer readings arise from.
These references to the attraction that men hold for Rand also decrease in frequency over the course of the series, and are also significantly concentrated in situations preceding Rand's acceptance of responsibility - in other words, Rand is only considered a man who has reached adulthood upon accepting the responsibility of the Dragon Reborn at the end of The Great Hunt, following which he begins to actively return the romantic interest that Elayne and Min show in him after failing to adequately return any interest in Selene or Egwene. His true and final acceptance of his fate is seen during The Fires of Heaven where he's forced to confront the reality that he will not be able to evade or trick the prophecy as he'd planned to do following his trip to Sindhol in The Shadow Rising. His encounters with the Seanchan in The Great Hunt and The Fires of Heaven - i.e. colonialist imperialism, which is often likened to rape - waken him to the responsibility he owes the world on both occasions, and he later loses a hand in another significant encounter with the Seanchan*. Childhood is past for Rand, and there's nowhere to run.
*Mat also experiences several moments that can be described as a ‘loss of innocence' which can be directly traced back to participating in conflicts against the Seanchan, as seen during The Great Hunt and Knife of Dreams.
This recognition sets the trend for Rand's relationships with men moving forward - he severs the bond of friendship he's cultivated with Mat and overwrites it with a relationship based on responsibility during The Fires of Heaven. Following the "kiss" that Rand administered to Mat in The Shadow Rising and the intense degrees of homoeroticism they display in The Eye of the World, he recognises Mat as a point of personal crisis. Perrin is afforded a similar treatment in Lord of Chaos and they're both eventually banished from Rand's lives as they're figures from a childhood with varying degrees of homoeroticism coded into their relationships that Rand can no longer afford to associate himself with.
Similar treatments are afforded to all his friends and allies during books 4-7, but in doing so he weakens himself leading the narrative to deride him for childish, poorly conceived approaches to asserting his maturity. He begins avoiding the Maidens (who often identify themselves as his 'mothers') who are sworn to protect him more religiously to his disadvantage. He asserts his adulthood with irresponsible and dangerous acts, in part guided by the personal traumas that he's endured. He set himself at odds with Moiraine for four books before recognising his mistake - but it didn't prevent him from committing the same mistake again repeatedly in subsequent books.
But the books also display plenty of sympathy for Rand, and in preventing the fulfilment of Moiraine’s prophecy they tackle the idea of the inevitable disaster and Rand’s flawed approaches to reach adulthood - they recognise and draw attention to the points of pressure and negative forces corralling Rand in and preventing him from acting in his best interests and ask the reader to pity him as he begins to isolate himself. The books are critical of his ill-conceived approaches but they don’t forget to be kind to him. And Elayne, with her specific homoerotic relationship with Aviendha, exists to offer an ideal example of a leader who can accept responsibility and make the journey into adulthood with the proper support, empathy and training.
TLDR: rand is bisexual and in denial. like his mom, moiraine, and girlfriend, elayne, who were definitely not in denial.
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raayllum · 1 year
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Kpp’Ar doesn’t know what to make of the boy, at first. He’s heard of him of course — even this far near the Del Barian border of Katolis, gossip travels fast. In the four months since the war ended scarcely anyone has spoken of anything other than how — the boy king, his mage brother, the strangely absent Moonshadow elf turned ally. Kpp’Ar leaves wooden cabin once every two weeks to go to the marketplaces, and it’s enough to know that his former student’s reign was disastrously short-lived and violent. 
But no matter. He washed his hands of Viren’s crimes best he could years ago.
Or so he thought, before the loud knocking at his door.
He never got visitors even when living near inner Katolis in his great big manor, so the fact that someone has trekked all the way up the snowy side of the mountain to the cabin, miles away from anyone else... He opens his door with his cane gripped like a club in one hand, knowing his body isn’t what it used to be, frail from age and dark magic use (however disavowed). 
He doesn’t expect a young man, still a bit baby faced at no older than seventeen at most, surely, brown hair permanently stuck to one side of his head to be on the other side.
“No visitors,” he grouses and goes to shut the door.
The young man catches it with his boot and then his arm, a flash of his red scarf revealing a Katolian seal. “I’m not here to sell you anything,” he says quickly, “or anything like that. I’m here to ask—”
“I don’t do dark magic anymore, there’ll be no miracles here—”
“I don’t need your magic. I have my own. I just need information—about Viren.”
Kpp’Ar pauses. No one here knows who his former pupil is, and this boy is far from old enough to know first hand, so—Kpp’Ar stops trying to close the door. “Who are you?”
“I’m Prince Callum of Katolis,” the boy says. “High mage of my brother’s court.” He forces the opening wider and barrels in before Kpp’Ar can stop him, getting snow and wet boot-prints all over his wooden floor. The old mage can feel a headache coming on. “I’ve been doing research and Soren said you might—”
Soren. Kpp’Ar’s heart thuds dully in his chest. Good to know what Viren had done had been worth something. “What is it that you want to know, boy?”
“Dark magic,” he says. “Is there a spell that can bring someone back from the dead?”
Kpp’Ar recoils, eyes flashing. “That sort of knowledge is not—”
“I don’t want it,” the prince repeats, insisting. “The dead—should stay dead. I just need to know if it exists.”
“And why not ask Claudia?” Kpp’Ar demands. “Last I saw her, she had some of my tomes hidden under her floorboards.”
Callum’s expression hardens with familiarity and fatigue. “Claudia’s gone. She—she turned traitor too. And Viren is dead. I know magic, but I don’t know dark magic—and I don’t want to. I-I need to make sure she couldn’t bring him back.” 
Kpp’Ar had never been the best with people even before he’d become an outright recluse, but he looks at the way the prince carries himself—poised amid the uncertainty, tall under the weight on young shoulders—and well, if the rumours are to be believed, the boy’s connected to a primal source. Kpp’Ar had read stories, long thought to be nothing but myths...
He clears his throat and gestures. His kettle can take a little more water. “Would you like some tea?”
Callum blinks, then grins. “That would be great. Thank you.”
Thank you. Viren had said the same, bright-eyed on his doorstep when Kpp’Ar had finally relented to teach him, day after day of the teen showing up undeterred on his doorstep. 
So Kpp’Ar turns away and says the same as he did then. “Don’t thank me yet.” 
He’s never been a man to make promises, either. And no matter what answer the boy seeks, Kpp’Ar is sure the answer he’s given won’t be the one he wants. 
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