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katsu28 · 24 hours

Note

can I request “tucking a strand of hair behind your partner's ear” with remus lupin? maybe him and shy!reader’s very first kiss?

thank you for requesting <3 so sorry it's taken me such a hefty chunk of time to get this written, hope you like it!

remus lupin x shy!reader, 2.7k

You were never really sure how to act around Remus. You were comfortable around him, of course. But it was hard for you to figure it out because you liked him. You liked him so much it scared you a little bit, because you’d never fancied anyone as much as you did him.

He was kind and funny and smart, loyal to a fault and protective over those he cared for. And sure, sometimes he could be a bit grumpy and rough around the edges, but that was what made him Remus.

Remus, who enjoyed your personal space as much as you did, it seemed, with the way he was always close to you.

Whether it was his long fingers intertwined with yours as you made your way through town, or one of his arms over your shoulders to whisper a snarky remark reserved only for your ears about how the overly dramatic story Sirius was in the middle of telling was a boldfaced lie the long haired boy had concocted to impress one of Lily’s mates whilst you were out with everyone.

Remus, who bought you flowers because they were pretty and thought you would like them even though the pollen sent him into sneezing fits that required him to sit across the room from them at all times.

You said you’d rather him not get them at all if his allergies were that bad, but he always shook his head instantly, claiming that sneezing and sniffling was nothing compared to how brightly you beamed when you spotted the bundle in his hand.

Remus, who wasn’t perfect by any means, but he was perfect for you.

You still hadn’t quite grasped the concept that he liked you the same way yet. It seemed like a dream that you never dared question because you didn’t want to wake up from it. Who would want to wake up from the bliss that was being the one person Remus fancied?

Maybe that’s why you hadn’t quite mustered up the courage to kiss him yet. There were a few times you’d come close, forgetting everything and letting his lips get within an inch of your own before chickening out and turning away at the last second. You were worried he’d find your reasoning for it silly.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to kiss him. You really wanted to, but your inner voice won out every time, that stupid little voice in the back of your mind telling you he’d surely lose interest in you once he figured out you had no idea how to kiss someone. He’d know you’d never kissed anyone immediately, and he’d come to his senses and move along when he still could.

Part of you thought Remus was far too fond of you to be that harsh, but there was no beating that voice in your head. You didn’t want to jeopardize the good thing you had going with him.

He never questioned why you always seemed to pull away from him at the last minute. If anything he took it in stride, shifting his focus to anything else so you wouldn’t feel like you were putting him out.

You should’ve known his curiosity and even his frustration would come to head at some point. One day, he’d try again and finally voice his confusion.

You’d fallen asleep in his lap on this quite nice spring afternoon, after spending the morning out on a walk in one of the nearby gardens, not on purpose but rather a result of the warmth emanating from his body and the worn sofa you’d both collapsed on upon returning to your flat.

Truly, you didn’t know you’d drifted asleep until Remus coughed. It was quiet, but loud enough to stir you from your slumber, blinking awake slowly until you realized your cheek was pressed against his thigh.

Stifling a rather large yawn, you shifted onto your back, stretching your limbs out until your joints popped and your vision cleared. When it did, you zeroed in on Remus above you, waiting for you to notice him.

“You snore a little bit, did you know that?” He said coolly, cocking his head.

You pushed his head away from you playfully, fighting the grin threatening to overtake your lips at the sight of him peering down at you. “You were watching me sleep?”

“Very hard to read when I’ve got a foghorn in my lap.” He tutted, but the sticky sweet smile gracing his handsome face told you he was anything but annoyed.

His scar stretched when he smiled like that, the jagged white marring his face rounding out the apple of his cheek as it raised. Remus tended to be self conscious about it, but less so when your fingers came up to trace along it. Not intended to bring attention to it in any way, but to reinforce that it wasn't something that deterred you from him. He felt better about it after.

“Sorry.” You said sheepishly. In your scramble to an upright position, you completely missed the way Remus deflated as you moved away. “Good book?”

“Fine, I suppose. Good sleep?”

“Fine, I suppose.” You teased, bumping his shoulder with yours.

“Cheeky.”

“Been spending too much time with you.”

“Is that it?” He huffed out an amused chuckle, letting his hand fall onto your knee. You didn’t dare react, fighting the urge to allow your leg to bounce even when Remus’ fingers began to circle lightly. “What else about me is rubbing off on you?”

“Dunno. What do you think?”

“What do I think? I think…you don’t need any of my bad habits mucking you up, because you’re perfect the way you are.” Remus murmured. You averted your gaze from his, avoiding the softness in his expression in favor of focusing hard on a loose thread from your sock. He was being nice, like he always was, and you didn’t know how to react, like you always did. “Though an overthinker, maybe. Don’t dwell on it too long, love, you’ll only end up hurting yourself.”

“I don’t overthink.” You protested rather meekly, pouting. Remus made a disbelieving sound in response, lilting and a little bit teasing, but soft and fond nonetheless. He reached out, bumping his knuckles against your chin affectionately, letting his fingers travel a little further to push the hair away from your face.

Your skin felt like it was on fire when he brushed against your ear, even more so when his hand came back to settle at the curve of your jaw, thumb sweeping along the apple of your cheek tenderly. Almost too tenderly, with the way he was looking at you too.

Part of you wanted to steer the conversation in another direction, but you managed to push the feeling aside, wanting to see maybe, just maybe, if he moved to kiss you this time, you wouldn’t shy away.

Remus moved slowly like he didn’t want to spook you, getting closer and closer still.

Five inches. Four, three, two—no, you couldn’t do it. You shifted abruptly, teetering back on your palms under the guise of losing your balance.

Remus frowned, blinking slowly. His hand dropped from where it had been against your cheek, falling against his knee almost dejectedly. “Do you not like me?”

“Of course I like you,” You insisted. Obviously he wouldn’t believe you. Even you wouldn’t have believed you. Not at all to your surprise, he looked thoroughly unconvinced, so you tried again. “I do.”

“Right.” He said. His brows drew together in the middle, one hand coming up to scratch at the back of his neck. “Right, you say that, but every time I get close to you, or I try to kiss you, or god forbid I try to pay you a compliment, you always pull away. I haven’t said anything before, because I figured you’d clue me in when you were ready, but you haven’t.”

“Rem…” You sighed, drawing your knees towards your chest. His shoulders lifted up by his ears, dropping into a resigned shrug as he searched your face for any semblance of an explanation.

“Is it me? Am I misreading this whole thing? I don’t—I don’t know what’s happening.” He was frustrated, you could tell. Frustrated, confused, maybe even a little disappointed, and with good reason. “I know you don’t like opening up, but it’s me, love. You can talk to me, right?”

You twisted your lips to the side, suddenly feeling all kinds of embarrassed. Remus thought you didn’t like him because of the way you acted around him. You wouldn’t lose him because of what you were doing; you’d more likely lose him because of what you weren’t doing.

Things needed to change, now, and you were the only one who could change them.

“I don’t know what I’m doing, Remus.”

“Does anyone really know what they’re doing?”

“No I mean, like, I’ve never been in a relationship before. I don’t know what to do around you, how to act. So I just…”

“Shut down?” He offered, not malicious in any way, but understanding. Remus was always just that. Understanding. You nodded wordlessly. “That’s the thing about relationships. There’s no single right way to be in one. You’ve just got to figure out what works best for the both of you. We need to figure things out, but we can’t do that if we don’t communicate.”

You sighed, letting your chin dip towards your chest. “I’m sorry, Remus.”

“Oh, you.” He said fondly, maybe even a little bit sadly. “You’ve not got anything to be sorry about at all. Now we know where to start.” His palm skated over your knee, up, up, up until he was met with soft skin against the rougher pads of his fingers. Goosebumps raised at his touch and he smiled softly again, not-so-secretly pleased he could elicit that kind of reaction from you. “You’re doing fine, love. Thank you for telling me.”

“There’s something else too. Why I haven’t let you kiss me yet.”

“Why?”

“I’ve never kissed anyone before.” You mumbled, voice muffled by the sleeve of your jumper.

He squinted at you, leaning in closer, as if somehow heard you wrong. “Come again?”

“I’ve never kissed anyone before.” You repeated, as loud as you could muster. “I was afraid you’d leave me when you found out. That you’d think it was weird and off putting and you wouldn’t like me anymore.”

Remus blinked at you, long and slow. It sure was something to process, you knew that.

It’s not like you were expecting him to understand or come to terms with your reasons right away. You’d been battling with these thoughts every time you were with him, even more when you weren’t. This was brand new information for him.

What you definitely weren’t expecting him to do was snort. Your nose wrinkled in immediate offense, even more so he cracked a smile.

“You really thought I’d leave you because you’ve never kissed anyone?”

You scowled, cheeks burning hot with embarrassment as you folded your arms over your chest stiffly. “Well now that you’re the one saying it out loud, it sounds stupid.”

“It is!”

“Don’t be mean, Remus!!” You huffed. You angled yourself away from him to stare angrily out the window, brows furrowed tightly, shoulders hunched.

Before you could brood too much, his large hands spun you right back around to face him again. He wasn’t smiling at you the way he was before, but you could still see the leftover twinkle in his eyes and it definitely didn’t make you feel better.

“You’re being silly, love. You really thought I’d leave you because you haven’t kissed anyone before?” He repeated, ducking to catch your gaze with your every attempt to avoid his. You turned away from him, he chased after you, like some weird game of cat and mouse.

Eventually you grew tired of it and you looked him square in the eye, jaw set. “Yes I did, and I’d appreciate it if you stopped saying it like that.” The corners of Remus’ mouth quirked up into a tiny smile. “Don’t you dare laugh at me, Lupin.”

“Oh, now we’re on a last name basis?” He replied, brows raised in amusement. “I’m not going to laugh at you. I think you’re being ridiculous, but I like it.”

“Ridiculous is even worse than silly!” You spluttered, losing your nerve from before at the risk of sounding whiny. You’d stomp your foot to bring your point across even more, but that seemed a little too dramatic for the situation. Settling for a deep frown, you scowled at your boyfriend, moving to rise off the couch.

“No, wait—I’m sorry, I’ll be serious now, I promise.” He insisted, holding his hands up palm out in front of him. “No more poking fun, you have my word.”

“Fine.”

“Look, I don’t care that you’ve never snogged anyone before. In fact, that’s good news for me—means you won’t be able to tell if I’m absolutely shit at it.”

“I thought you were being serious now.” You grumbled.

“I am! I am. Y/N, I…” Remus hesitated, raking a hand back through his hair. “I’ve never felt the way I do for you with anyone else before. And I haven’t really, erm, been with a lot of people, so this, with you, it's special to me.”

“Me too.”

“I guess what I’m trying to say is, I’m sorry if it feels like I’m going too fast, or pushing you into something you’re not comfortable with. You can always tell me to fuck off and I’ll understand.”

“It doesn’t.” You said quickly, shaking your head. Still, he looked skeptical, bordering on guilty. “You don’t. You’ve never made me feel uncomfortable. It’s actually the opposite. I…I feel more like myself when I’m around you. You make me feel safe, Remus. To be who I am, to say what I want. I just—I’m still trying to figure out what that means, and sometimes it makes me unsure of myself.”

You weren’t even sure where all the words were coming from, but as soon as they left your mouth you knew they were true.

“I know the feeling.” He murmured, letting you take his hand in yours. His thumb rubbed along your knuckles absentmindedly. “For what it’s worth, I reckon you’re bloody great. And I’m glad you feel safe with me. That you feel like you can be yourself. Means I’ve done something right.”

“You’ve done everything right, Remus. I’m the one who can’t get over myself and be who you deserve.”

“Hey, hey, stop that.” He chided, giving a firm shake of his head. “You’re already everything I deserve and more.”

“You’re too sweet to me.” You frowned, leaning into him. His arm swept across your back, fingers curling around your shoulder to bring you even closer, a swift move punctuated with a kiss to the top of your head. You angled yourself so you were looking up at him, ready to gauge his reaction to your next question. “Can you…kiss me now?”

Remus’ brows flew high. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I can wait, I promise. I—”

“Will you shut up and kiss me, Remus?”

Remus lifted your chin with two fingers, rich coffee eyes searching your own for any ounce of hesitation and coming up empty, before closing the gap between you swiftly, but not rushed. Firm, but not aggressive. He kissed you much like the way he acted around you.

Even though you were more or less just following his lead, kissing Remus came to you easier than you thought it would. His hand slid up to the back of your neck. Yours bunched into the front of his jumper like you’d done it before, subconsciously tugging him closer until he’d backed you up against the opposite armrest of the couch, one arm braced on either side of you to hold himself up.

His body blanketed yours, lips leading to the edge of something more before he pulled away. He studied you again, reveling in the dazed look in your eyes as you both caught your breath. “How was that for your first kiss?”

“Mm, good,” You hummed, still a bit taken aback (in the best possible way).

“Top marks?”

“Absolutely.”

“Alright if I go for extra credit?”

“Please.”

Now that you’d finally managed to kiss Remus, you didn’t want to stop. You honestly didn’t think he’d mind if you never stopped. You certainly wouldn’t.

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new fics :)

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin fic #remus lupin x shy!reader #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin fluff #marauders era!remus lupin

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makelemonade · 2 days

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Both the parts for people finding out we're dating the characters are so good! Can I please request you to include Wriothesley in the next part if you're writing it?

how people find out you’re dating them

Wriothesley, Capitano

Wriothesley

ONCE AGAIN THESE GODDAMN MELUSINES

Most specifically SIGEWINNE.

she’s such a cutie patootie. you just wanna eat her up whenever you see her! Sigewinne, the adorableness she is, is not the smartest.

Whenever you come down so often to come visit Wriothesely, she comments on how you are such a good friend to always keep him company! and you just can’t bear to explain to her that is not the case!

This goes on for A MONTH. A GODDAMN MONTH and she has not figured it out.

Even when she bursts into his office to find you maybe massaging his back, arms, hugging him, holding him- she is completely OBLIVIOUS to the point Wriothesly wants to test out kissing you in front of her.

However, her obliviousness comes to a stop one day and for the stupidest yet funniest reason;

He’s not drinking his tea.

She’s shocked. Like jaw dropped, absolutely still shocked. She’s constantly trying to get him to drink or EAT anything other than tea so when she sees him with a MILKSHAKE?! A FUCKING MILKSHAKE.

She’s ready to lose her shit. and then she sees YOU with the opposite flavour milkshake and she immediately knows and screams it out for the ENTIRE prison to hear.

A prisoner comes in injured; “Have you heard Wriothesly and Y/N are together?!”

On her next vacation, she’s running to Neuvillette, Furina, Clorinde- EVERYONE.

Well, it was a month of peace.

Capitano

It’s funny because he genuinely isn’t even trying to hide it from the Harbingers.

He doesn’t not tell them because he’s worried for your safety- he’s the fourth fucking harbinger he will GLADLY beat anyone’s ass for you even if it means it’s his own coworkers.

The man just doesn’t talk. That’s literally why no one knows. Like yeah, he’ll murmur a few words every now and then but like, he doesn’t see a reason in bringing something up if someone doesn’t mention anything related so he stays quiet.

He does talk a bit more though, and he’s willing to actually sit with the harbingers whenever they sometimes hang out.

It’s weirding them out.

The weirdest thing though,

WEIRDEST.

Is when he speaks to Childe.

Even Childe is absolutely shocked- like what do you mean the guy he’s been like practically simping over fight wise is actually soeaking to him?!?!!!

They have to ask Pierro if he’s sick, and even Pierro doesn’t know and Pierro is the ONLY one capitano talks.

They literally find out from YOU.

You walked into the castle once, being escorted by a guard who is quick to leave once he’s finally let you reach the insides of the castle.

“Sorry to disturb,” You spoke nervously, somehow ending up in some sort of lounge room with the Harbingers. “I’ve brought lunch for my…boyfriend? Uh, Capitano? Do you know where I could find him?”

“Yeah, down the hall, first room on the left.” Arlecchino murmurs, reading through the latest Snezhnaya newspapers.

You smile at her, although she doesn’t see and everyone just returns back to normal.

Until they all realize WHO the hell are you and BOYFRIEND?!?

They all give each other a look before they are RUNNING to you, ready to ask questions and capitano is shocked when suddenly all the Harbingers are in his office and he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop them from questioning you on everything.

He likes the way you laugh at them all- it’s cute. He should bring you more often.

follow me on Twitter!; @II_makelemonade

#genshin impact #genshin fic #wriothesly x reader #wriothesley #wriothesely x reader #wriothesely genshin #capitano x you #capitano genshin #capitano x reader #capitano #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #genshin x reader

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tossawary · 13 hours

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I was thinking about Xie Lian being able to snap the Xin Mo sword in half with his bare hands again, and then I thought to myself... "Wait, Xie Lian and Luo Binghe interaction could be really cute, though?"

Like, let's say that Xie Lian, during his time as a wandering trash god, accidentally falls into an interdimensional rift and ends up in the SVSSS world. His luck is bad like that. But while this is weird, sure, it's not that bad! The worlds are pretty similar and he can still make his living! So, Xie Lian wanders along as usual, curiously learning about this new world, picking through trash, occasionally punching demonic beasts to death to rescue awed civilians.

And at some point, Xie Lian runs into a young Luo Binghe while he's living on the streets. Let's say that Xie Lian rolls into town shortly before the death of Binghe's adoptive mother, has a few sweet encounters with this cute and kind child who doesn't have much to spare for a trash collector, and is there to comfort his new young friend when Binghe's adoptive mother passes away. Xie Lian is still there when Binghe gets thrown out onto the streets and he agrees to help the boy travel to Cang Qiong Mountain Sect.

So, Binghe gets to spend a month or two as a trash-collecting god's apprentice! He doesn't know that Xie Lian is a god. He suspects that Xie Lian is just a very powerful rogue cultivator who is living very humbly for some reason. The time isn't entirely pleasant, because life is hard and Binghe is grieving, but Xie Lian understands pain very well and is an excellent companion. He sees Binghe safely to Cang Qiong.

At which point, clingy Binghe does not want to separate from this extremely nice person, but Xie Lian insists on it. He wants Binghe to have a better life. He's worried that his bad luck will somehow spread to this poor boy who reminds him of so many other people he's loved and lost. Xie Lian supervises the confusing entrance exam, while the adult Cang Qiong cultivators desperately try to figure out who this strange person is (Airplane Bro is going "???!!!"), and then leaves wistfully. Binghe will later look back on this particular period of his life very fondly.

Xie Lian can then go in and out of the SVSSS plot as a person pleases! I think it would be very funny if Liu Qingge ended up with an unwilling crush on Xie Lian as well, when they have a spar for some reason and Xie Lian handily SLAMS him into the ground. Xie Lian would probably end up running into Tianlang-Jun and Zhuzhi-Lang somehow, both of whom I think would end up being a little obsessed with him.

I think that the best place to bring Xie Lian and Binghe back together is maybe after Binghe escapes the Endless Abyss. So that Binghe can have a nice cry session on Xie Lian's shoulder. Xie Lian can possibly then introduce Binghe to Tianlang-Jun and Zhuzhi-Lang. Or else generally fumble his way through facilitating Bingqiu actually communicating and being less of a painful mess. Shen Qingqiu (Shen Yuan) is very confused by this character?! Where did he come from??? Who is he??? He's very nice, though, and Shen Qingqiu is feeling maybe a liiiiittle jealous over Binghe.

(I don't know how to handle the System in this AU, but I do like the idea of the System just... not being able to handle Xie Lian. Xie Lian is a god from a different worldbuild. He kind of just breaks everything.)

(If you want to get a little angsty and ghostly, you could have a plotline in which Xie Lian helps the ghost of Shen Jiu somehow. Qijiu resolution?)

Binghe would probably be open to the idea of getting together with Xie Lian as well as Shen Qingqiu. He has a type! He is full of love! But Xie Lian is definitely not interested and is very good at wiggling away from come-ons, so Binghe respectfully doesn't pursue that passing thought / childhood crush, no matter what Tianlang-Jun is saying about threesomes again.

Binghe ends up using the (tamed? broken?) Xin Mo sword to send Xie Lian (his "gege") back to Xie Lian's own world. (Or Mobei-Jun could maybe do it?) Xie Lian has been gone for years and wants to see how his world is doing. Binghe tearfully promises to visit him regularly and to come get him WHENEVER HE WANTS. Xie Lian pats his head and agrees to stay in touch.

So, then Xie Lian tumbles out back into his own world and into the start of the plot of TGCF. And at any point in the plot of TGCF, he's now able to summon a heavenly demon from another dimension (with a super powerful sword that can move mountains?) who would absolutely be willing to fight all of heaven for him.

Xie Lian generally isn't going to do this, because he doesn't want to involve Binghe in his problems, even though Binghe is CHEWING THE WALLS with the desire to help him in return. However, Xie Lian does really like to go out with Binghe and Shen Qingqiu (and sometimes people like Airplane Bro and Mobei-Jun and Liu Qingge as well) to nice restaurants every other week or so. "So, what's new?" "Oh, I've ascended to heaven again and it's a little troublesome, ha ha. How are you?"

Hua Cheng is... nonplussed. On one hand, he's a little jealous. On the other hand, FINALLY, people can recognize that Xie Lian is the best person in the world. Luo Binghe has GOOD TASTE and is just some well-meaning kid whom Xie Lian likes a lot and who rightly thinks heaven sucks. Hua Cheng is determinedly shaking Luo Binghe's hand and giving him advice from a Ghost King to a future Demon Emperor.

(Tianlang-Jun CANNOT be allowed into Ghost City. He will NOT leave. I think that Hua Cheng is strong enough to throw him out if necessary, but Tianlang-Jun and Zhuzhi-Lang would just keep slipping back in somehow. Permanently banned from the gambling tables no matter what he offers, but Tianlang-Jun is still allowed to hang out at the Ghost City playhouse because he quickly becomes the favorite audience member of all of the ghost actors. He has AWFUL taste. Yin Yu hates them.)

(Also, I do think that Xie Lian would not really like the Xin Mo sword at all. E'ming is a beautiful baby boy made from and by Hua Cheng, who is Xie Lian's favorite person in the world who has never done anything wrong ever. Xin Mo is some random blade that destroys Luo Binghe's mental health and turns him into the worst version of himself! Xie Lian could and possibly should snap that possession sword like a twig.)

#tossawary svsss #tossawary tgcf #xie lian #luo binghe #fic ideas #xie lian and luo binghe au #long post

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bidisasterevankinard · 2 days

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Wip Wednesday

guees who started new wip with baby queer Tommy in his 30s and confident whore Buck in his early 20s just an hour ago? meeeee

Before going to the bar where the handsome man is still drinking beer, Evan quickly corrects the way his top sits on him, pressing his fingers to his piercing to get his nipples more pebble, makes sure that the hairstyle is great, corrects his neon red lipstick and eyeliner, and wagging his hips goes to what promises to be a hot night.

“You look lost, big guy,” Evan puts on his best smile that always helps him get anything or anyone he wants, “can I seduce you with a new bottle of beer? Or would you prefer anything else? They have amazing cherry and peach shots. Can highly recommend,” he carefully leans to the guy not wanting to scare him too fast, so he still keeps some space between them.

“I-I,” the man swallows, looking at his face, clearly fascinated by Evan's lip piercing.

Evan grins inside, licking his lower lip so that his tongue piercing is also visible. He knows how wanting to feel it between their legs drives people crazy. And this with adding the lipstick he has on his plump lips will guarantee this guy will want his mouth on him soon.

“I was just thinking about drinking this bottle and going home, but-but thanks.”

The man definitely lies if the way his voice is almost ready to break and how he tries hard not to check Evan’s body says anything.

Evan just arches his back more, leaning on the counter, he pretends to straighten his top, enjoying how while his attention is on the bartender, he literally burns under the heavy gaze of this man.

He loves when people make him work before falling into his bed. It's a funny game. Till they are not saying real no, of course. Then he goes away because he’s not an asshole.

“You sure, handsome?” Evan bats his eyelashes. “Those shots are best in town. But maybe you’re not comfortable with drinking with someone not knowing their name? Well, then, I’m Evan, but,” Evan leans to whisper it yet leaving some space because he want this man to close the last the distance between them tonight when he will be ready, “you, handsome, can call me anything you want,” Evan winks and then when bartender finally comes to them asks again, “so shots or should I leave you alone?”

The way for man to get away from him. If he will tell him to leave him Evan will do it.

“Yeah, shots. And both types sound good. Love both cherry and peaches,” man nods to him and smiles a little.

Evan orders four shots of both types for now and then turns back his full attention on the brunette finally deciding to sit near him and not just stay, “so what should I call you, big guy? Or do you prefer pet names I use?”

“Tommy,” the man, Tommy, licks his lip, definitely looking a little tense, so that Evan wants to get on his knees already and blow him so good he will lose all this tension. Later, he stops himself. I'll do it later and he will see the god himself, while coming. “You can call me Tommy.”

I will not just call you that, sweety, I’ll scream it coming on your cock while riding you so hard you’ll see the stars - Evan thinks, but says, “Nice to meet you, Tommy,” with a little stretched intonation and a voice slightly lower than necessary highlighting the name. “Really nice to meet you.”

tagged by @dangerpronebuddie @wikiangela @tizniz 💙💙💙

Tagging @watchyourbuck @ebdaydreamer @eddiebabygirldiaz @evanbi-ckley @rainbow-nerdss @rogerzsteven @the-likesofus @thewolvesof1998 @theotherbuckley @underwaterninja13 @pirrusstuff @aspecbuddie @saybiwithme @spaceprincessem @spotsandsocks @devirnis @diazsdimples @fortheloveofbuddie @honestlydarkprincess @hippolotamus @jesuisici33 @cal-daisies-and-briars @bibuckbuckley @bekkachaos @bewilderedbuckley @bigfootsmom @bi-buckrights @neverevan @monsterrae1 @daffi-990 and anyone who wants to

#it's already 1k guys send help #one night stand wip #evan buckley #911 #evan buck buckley #911 abc #tommy kinard #bucktommy #tuck #tevan #kinkley #kinley #tommy x buck #buck x tommy #my wips

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ybklix · 2 days

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𝐂𝐫𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲 ♡ 𝐃𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 ₊⊹

CRY BABY .♡⊹ (( bang chan)) mdni

Chapters:

1: cry baby ((wc: 4.1k))

2: dollhouse ((wc: 3k))

ONE: cry baby.

you're all on your own and you lost all your friends, you told yourself that it's not you, it's them ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

It didn't matter how long the journey had been; when it came to reaching his hometown, fatigue and jet lag ceased to exist for Chris once his body felt the air of Australia. He had arrived at a wonderful time, with time to arrange things in his new home and visit his girlfriend.

Chris picked up his phone and sent a text to his girlfriend letting her know he had arrived and that he'd pick her up after work. There were still a couple of hours left, so he decided to order a taxi to take him to his new home. He had planned his stay in Sydney carefully and thoughtfully, considering every angle. It favored him quite a bit; his girlfriend of two and a half years lived here, he could continue working from the comfort of home, and he could pick up extra jobs that he didn't completely dislike. Indeed, for Chris, working hard and keeping his mind occupied was always better.

Everything was going quite perfectly that he couldn't help but smile. He bought his dream house a couple of months ago and had since begun his official move, moving his entire life from Seoul to Sydney. Returning, for him, was something he hadn't expected. He found it almost funny that after all his effort, he returned to where it all began, where everything started as a simple dream. But all his sacrifice had yielded excellent results since he had a steady job and stability, doing what he loved most, writing and producing music. When he announced he had to leave, his colleagues almost tried to stop him. He was quite successful and famous as a producer, but they understood that he could continue working, just not in that distant country anymore.

Chris looked at the beautiful landscapes the city offered through the taxi window. He was so excited that once he spent the afternoon with his partner, he would consider immediately go to visit his family. A long day awaited him, but he knew it would be worth it.

Buying a house in a neighborhood like this, spectacular in every aspect, suitable for childless couples, professionals, and simply for families, whose children rarely went out to play and make noise, and for retired elderly people living alone, was just what he needed, a large space just for him, even though it wasn't part of his plan; but suddenly a change in his life and routine sounded so good. Chris didn't know exactly why a house and not an apartment, to start with, as he had in Seoul; not even his own father understood it, Chris just excused himself saying he needed to own a more spacious place where noise could easily be canceled out, for the construction of his own recording studio... but inside him, perhaps there was a certain instinct that he wanted to start a family soon, he knew exactly that this wasn't his girlfriend's idea, not even as a joke, but maybe, just maybe, there was a tiny feeling like that in him.

Once entering the neighborhood, he felt the warmth of living in Australia again despite it being a slightly cool afternoon with the sun hiding behind the clouds. He never thought he would come to this place; he always believed he would live in Seoul for the rest of his life; he was so excited to start a new life but still leaving aside illusions, if something went wrong, he knew he could flee to Korea whenever he wanted... but he wasn't like that, he was never the type of guy who just run away. In fact, he thought that he left Sydney to pursue a dream, never by choice; it would be a lie to say he didn't like Seoul since it was his home for a long time... but once he could see the green grass, the well-kept roses of the people, he realized he had disconnected a bit and had lived in the noisy city long enough. This was what pleased him the most, nature, and if he wanted more buildings and noise, the city center wasn't far from his new address.

He stood there for a few seconds admiring the facade of his new home and noticed a teenage boy entering the house next door, they must be the neighbors, he thought. When he was initially given a tour of the house, as he stepped out onto the sidewalk, a woman welcomed him, told him her name but Chris didn't remember it, she mentioned that she lived with her family and other things like how much they had started to remodel and modernize that house. Still, he felt strangely safe, the distances between the houses were large enough to provide privacy, to his right was that family he supposed consisted of the teenager, and to his left was an older widow, or at least that's what the real estate agent told him.

He sighed in frustration at the sight of the pile of boxes scattered around and thought that he didn't have enough time, but fortunately, he was always prepared and a step ahead, so the interior designer would come tomorrow with her team to help her move stuff. He had to prepare as soon as possible for the start of his new job in the morning, as a professor at the university. He would teach two subjects related to music at different levels, and a few courses about Asian culture. He was nervous, but he had become a teacher in his spare time, and he felt quite prepared for whatever he might face.

He was hesitating whether to take a nap or move a few things in case Leah, his girlfriend, wanted to come; Chris ran his hand through his hair, thinking, so he opted for the second option; he cleared the living room area, tidied up, cleaned a few things, took a shower, and without thinking twice, it was time to pick up Leah.

He took the keys to his new car, really taking seriously the idea of living in Sydney and being well prepared. Ready to have a new life. He felt tense when he realized that he would be driving in Australia again and that the steering wheel was on the right side, unlike his old home where he had obtained his license from a very young age. Still, he set his GPS and left; this time, as he passed by the house next door, he now noticed it was a girl entering the house.

When he finally picked up his girlfriend, the sky was completely dark, and he noticed how tired she looked; Chris felt slightly bad and reproached himself for not thinking earlier and not bringing her a small romantic gesture of welcome, even though he was the one who had just arrived. They hadn't seen each other for a long month, he missed his girlfriend so much that it almost physically hurt not to be with her. A few seconds later, Leah's expression softened, and her serious demeanor turned into a warm smile.

—Channie —she called him affectionately by his Korean nickname, almost in a sigh, and extended her arms.

Finally, they hugged for just the right amount of time and exchanged a tender kiss. He had met her almost three years ago in Seoul; she worked in advertising for a magazine and was somewhat related to the entertainment world, so her social circle was so similar to Chris's; like him, Leah had grown up in Australia with Korean parents, the only difference being that she did have her whole life back in Oceania; still, he was captivated by her at that party, she was only two years younger than him, Leah at that time was just a beginner still in college on a trip in Seoul with her other circle of friends, and he was a recent graduate with a special gift. Despite the differences, they decided to give it a try, leading them to a long-distance relationship for just over two years, but it didn't matter now, at least not anymore for him; right now, he was with her, and he could have her whenever he wanted.

Chris, or Chan to her, caressed his girlfriend's face as he gave her a gentle kiss, breathing in her perfume one last time before pulling away and lowering his hand to her bare thigh with a smile.

—Do you want to go out to eat? Should we go somewhere...? —he spoke.

—Mm, let's order food and you can show me your house.

—It's still a bit of a mess —he warned.

Chris let out a small laugh and did exactly as Leah had suggested. She had been inside the house before, but she was always surprised at how well laid out it was in terms of space and design. He found her reaction endearing and with a smile on his face, he thought about how all of this might one day belong to her too. They both headed to eat at the small and only nightstand table in his TV room; some larger items were arriving tomorrow, so for now, that was what they could improvise with. As they ate, Leah kept talking about how stuff should be arranged to create harmony and coherence in the house. Chris listened attentively and lovingly; they talked about their respective jobs and what awaited them.

After sitting in silence and letting the food settle for a while, Leah spoke.

—Is your room upstairs...

Chris turned to look at her; not seeing her for a long time suddenly had a quick effect on him, and from one second to the next, he found her ten times more attractive.

—Yeah, do you want to give it your approval? —he replied playfully, hoping this would lead to something else.

Chris looked at her profile for a few seconds before she turned and gave him a teasing smile in response. He examined her, from her smooth, slightly upturned nose and her legs barely exposed by the skirt, to her shiny, loose silk blouse. Suddenly, every detail of her drove him crazy and made him feel like a hormonal teenager. He wanted to fuck her right there, right now.

He felt that her mischievous smile and soft gaze were enough signals for him, so he dangerously leaned in and pressed his lips against hers. He started slow and passionate, his right hand traveling up to the hem of her skirt, playing with the thin seam, unsure whether to slide his hand gently between her thighs or do it quickly in one swift motion, while the other hand firmly held her waist. Chris was gradually losing himself, his tongue slipping in, giving her a bolder, dirtier kiss; however, after a torturous session of just wet and hot kisses, Leah squirmed out of his grasp and pulled away from him slowly.

Chris looked confused, but his girlfriend's expression only worried him. With her pink, swollen lips, Leah suddenly seemed shy, with her eyes cast down. In seconds, Chris realized that maybe it was just something she didn't feel like doing right now, and he respected that... but it still seemed quite strange to him. Had she pushed him away? Since when did she reject him? Every time they saw each other, because of their painful long-distance relationship, the most intense and pleasurable sex awaited them.

Chris wanted to believe that maybe it wasn't the best situation for her, tired in her work clothes after a long day.

—It's a bit late... and we both have to work tomorrow —she said, raising her gaze and captivating Chris's gaze—. You'll do great, love —she smiled.

He knew her so well, he didn't understand why she suddenly gave him an awkward smile pretending to be kind... Had something bothered her, and he had no idea? He wanted to ask her so many things, but Leah stood up from her position on the floor and grabbed her bag.

—I really need to rest, and it's getting late. See you tomorrow? —she interrupted.

Chris quickly got up and gently took her waist.

—Of course, I'll drive you home.

As they got into the car, Chris looked at the completely quiet street, with no noise, the houses perfectly illuminated, there was no one outside except for the two of them and the mysterious girl next door coming out of her house with the cold wind blowing her hair.

During the drive, Leah became herself again, outgoing and energetic. She told her boyfriend how they should spend the short break he had as teachers in September; he just thought about how grateful he was to have a sweet moment with her and looked at her with tenderness when the traffic lights indicated he should stop... yet, he was a little hurt, deep down, slightly bruising his pride as a man that he didn't get any physical intimacy from his girlfriend that night... he had waited so long, he thought he could reward her, and when his house is no longer a mess, he would make sure to satisfy her and shower her with gifts.

—I'll see you tomorrow, Chan —she leaned in, giving him a quick goodbye kiss—. Call me.

Again, for the third time that day, she felt strange to him. It was obvious she wouldn't be the same young woman she used to be, capable of throwing a party every time they saw each other... but he felt there was something about her that she had to tell him as soon as possible, or he would go crazy. It wasn't surprising, Chris was an intense guy.

Once he returned home, he threw the keys with fury... he had tried to keep his sanity, but the more he overthought it on the way back home, the less sense it made to him. She didn't anger him, never could he be angry with her, it just, maybe, he thought, it was about him.

He went up to his room, in one swift movement he took off his shirt, feeling the cold air seeping through the small opening in his window. He checked the time on his phone, 11:43 p.m., he needed to rest, to take a shower in the morning and start his day... but he could only think about the romantic date options he could do on a simple Monday.

As he took a few steps towards his bed, approaching it, he noticed through his window how a faint, warm light, not so noticeable, managed to penetrate into his dark room. He turned his body and cursed for not remembering to put up curtains before; for a moment, he felt sorry for not realizing that significant detail, he was so used to the large windows in his old apartment in Seoul restricting the view. It was obvious that there was another room, right next to his.

Chris didn't want to pay attention, but catching the subtle silhouette of a girl sitting by his window captivated him inconsistently. She was wearing a thin white tank top despite the cold weather. He thought about how warm her room looked while giving it a quick inspection. The girl had her face buried in her naked knees, and her loose hair covered her face; her arms embraced her legs. Suddenly, she pushed her hair behind her ears, revealing just her profile. Yet it wasn't hard for Chris to see that she was crying. Her cheek was shining, wet, and he could see the small tears sliding down.

The girl by the window began to sob, causing her back and chest to contract. Chris suddenly didn't want to watch; he felt like he was invading her privacy and pain. But somehow, he couldn't stop watching her; he was so dismayed, but he was more bothered by the fact that he couldn't take his eyes off her.

He had no idea how long he had been watching her... but somehow, deep down, he thought, in the most hidden part of himself, that she looked strangely beautiful crying. The large rectangular window frame captured that girl with glowing cheeks and slightly messy hair, crying in what seemed to be a corner with books and a seat by the window.

The girl by the window closed her eyes tightly and slowly lay down, facing away from Chris's window, ending the performance completely. Finally, he reacted; she was still sobbing, her back moving uncontrollably, but it was harder to see her now.

Chris didn't know what had come over him; he almost felt annoyed that his neighbor didn't put up her own curtains. He could see everything, from his bed, which was positioned so that it faced his room directly, to his posters on the wall, to her backpack thrown on the floor.

Chris sighed and tried not to worry about his neighbor anymore. He wanted to think it was just a young girl in the age of broken hearts and not something deeper... but she was crying with such emotion that it made his head spin. He puffed his cheeks, letting out a sigh, and, retreating to the window, he took off his pants, slipping into his sheets, making sure she wouldn't accidentally turn and see him. Unlike her room, his bed was positioned sideways, his front door facing his bed, and her room's door was on the right side of the bed. Somehow, he felt like her room was more exposed, so he would have to move to avoid causing her any discomfort.

At dawn, the light bothered him, and he prayed that the girl had her curtains closed. Otherwise, he would have to get up semi-naked, and if she saw him, she might think he was a pervert. And just for his luck, some pretty white lace curtains covered her window; Chris was able to leave freely and go to wash up, taking his clothes with just a towel covering his lower half and changing in another room.

Chris looked at himself in the mirror, wondering if his outfit was appropriate: formal pants with a black button-up shirt. He wanted to think it was the best option for winter. He adjusted his dark hair before heading downstairs for breakfast, tired of boxes everywhere; he hoped everything would be in order between today and tomorrow for a better rest.

As he left, driving his car towards the university, he saw her again, walking down the sidewalk in the same direction as him; the famous girl who had been crying by her window, his neighbor, wearing blue jeans, white ankle boots, and a thin pale pink sweater. He saw her so fleetingly that he only saw her profile once again and noticed her backpack slung across her body.

And then she saw him too, just in a quick glance, driving his car, dressed all in black. She hadn't seen him completely, they hadn't even introduced themselves, but her mother confirmed it, he's a very handsome young man, he lives alone, and he bought the property outright, he must have a lot of money. His name is Christopher.

She had seen him at least twice, an embarrassing encounter in the morning when she tried to open her curtains just before leaving home, as she always did, but found his broad back naked, wearing only a towel while holding his clothes; Celeste immediately slid the curtain with embarrassment and just left her room. She hated to admit her mother was right, but the short two seconds she saw of his build weren't bad at all. And the second time was just moments ago as she headed to the university.

So that's her new neighbor, a man who emerged out of nowhere, bought that modernized house that had been empty for so long. She was so used to there being no one next to her room, now she had to be careful of walking around wearing with what she’s comfortable with.

Celeste took a couple of buses and one more subway line to reach her campus, where the first classes went by normally, and it wasn’t until brunch when the only person she talked to approached her.

—Celeste —he said to her.

She looked up from her food, observed him, gave him a smile, and invited him to sit with her gaze.

—I heard we’re finally getting a music teacher —he said again.

—Wow, it’s about time, it’s been a week —she replied.

The guy smiled at Celeste and took one of her fries.

—There’s going to be an art exhibition, you should come —he suggested.

—When? —she asked.

—Friday at 7.

Celeste raised her eyes, thinking if she had to work that day and concluded that if she asked for the day off they’d give it to her since she worked a week with no days off, she could perfectly go see Hyunjin’s exhibition.

It wasn’t new for Celeste to be somewhat… strange. She didn’t know how to explain it, but little by little, she distanced herself from all the people she once spoke comfortably with, and surprisingly, the handsome exchange student was the only one who talked to her. He was two years older than her and was studying visual arts, yet he decided to take music courses, and that’s where they met.

—I’ll be there —Celeste replied, checking the time on her phone—. We still have about 20 minutes ‘till class —she added.

Hyunjin smiled at her; he was quite handsome and popular, so a part of Celeste wants to feel human and like him like most do, if she paid proper attention to him... she could develop feelings for him, she hated the feeling part, and that feelings lead her to false illusions but she felt that in her dull life she needed to at least, have a little crush on someone. Maybe that would help distract her.

Falling in love was something Celeste didn't know, something that was out of her hands and even something she thinks is out of her reach. It's not that she doesn't want to have attention and affection... she just gave up and decided to think that maybe life is lonely for her. Her last intimate encounter and affection for a man was when she was 13 years old at a birthday party when she was dared to kiss someone, that was her last and first kiss. The rest of her years she lived normally without the opportunity of a prospect and love... that was one of the last things she thought and cried about, truly. Love.

The depression and anxiety was diminishing her libido and she remembers that maybe the last time she masturbated out of boredom was a year ago.

But Hyunjin... Celeste thought about whether she should like him, whether she should bring excitement into her life for the first time in twenty years.

She was an interesting and pretty girl, shy, but lonely, she isolated herself too much and lived absorbing the pain and problems of her surroundings; her issue was that she felt too much that sometimes she would go into a kind of self-control, on automatic, off without feeling anything, until she overloaded herself and exploded, it was always the same with her and she felt pathetic that she could never change. Her behavior led her to pull away from everyone... wondering why they didn't come back to her, maybe it's them, not me, she thought constantly.

Celeste watched Hyunjin closely as they talked for 10 minutes and the next 10 they used it to walk to the classroom. She was quite observant and took it upon herself to memorize every detail about him, his full lips, his eyelids hiding in his sharp brown eyes, the almost invisible mole under his eye, thick dark eyebrows, long hair and big hands, come on Celeste, feel something, she thought.

She wanted to bang her head against the wall, only then did she think she would come to her senses to feel something for someone as attractive as Hyunjin, besides he was an artist and the only person nice to her... she felt like a heartless bitch.

Arriving at the classroom, Hyunjin and Celeste sat together and the teacher was already inside as well. She spotted his silhouette as she passed, but saw him completely once again looked up at him... suddenly he seemed so similar, those broad shoulders and all black clothes, she shouldn't have been excited, but something small grew inside her, perhaps the intrigue that maybe her teacher is also her new neighbor? Suddenly the big city she always grew up in seemed small to her with such a coincidence.

Celeste was at least ninety percent sure it was him, she watched him a minute longer and as she felt their gazes cross, she turned to Hyunjin, embarrassed. Class started two minutes later and he finally introduced himself.

—I am Christopher Bang. Sorry for the delay of the subject by a week.

TWO: dollhouse.

places, places, get in your places, throw on your dress and put on your doll faces. everyone thinks that we're perfect, please don't let them look through the curtains ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Celeste had lived in that house her whole life. It was only when she turned 18 and graduated that she managed to leave for a year and breathe… but due to economic reasons, she had to return. It's not that she wasn't grateful… she just needed a break from what her family could sometimes be.

Her father was an accountant who worked hard to provide his children with a home in what was considered one of the best neighborhoods in the city. At least she agreed that he did the right thing in that regard. However, he was insolent, dishonest, and unfaithful. She discovered her father's infidelity when she was only eleven years old, one June night when her father probably thought the house was completely empty since her mother usually took them —her younger brother and her— to visit their aunt… but that day was different, one of those when Celeste's puberty rebellion hit, and she refused to go with them. So, she wanted to stay in her room… until she saw them, him and his lover entering the house. She was so surprised, scared, and overwhelmed with emotions that she didn't know what to do, so she pretended not to be there. Overnight, her innocence was gone in an unpleasant way.

She couldn't live with the guilt, so a year later, she confessed it to her mother. Celeste already knew the gravity of the situation by then and had considered a million options that could happen: her mother going crazy, even blaming her daughter for not telling her, or a calm and depressive reaction… but in all scenarios, Celeste maturely considered divorce as a good option. She felt that she was no longer a child, she could live with it; after all, she had discovered that her father was not a good person and that her mother could take care of them. The only concern of poor twelve-year-old Celeste was her younger brother, who at the age of eight, for them, everything seemed like a fairytale, and having both parents was part of their fantasy world. She hated that she cared and loved him… but she was sure that the little one could overcome a divorce. She didn't want to be there anymore; she couldn't even look at her father in the eyes, she was always avoiding any encounter with him.

But her mother's reaction to the truth was… something different from the expected options. Even after years had passed, it still seemed so strange to her. They were there, sitting in the dining room, and it was three days after Celeste turned 12, on a rainy day in July when Celeste got tired of crying and wondering every night why… her birthday celebration made her angry; she didn't feel so sad and dejected anymore. She hated the way her father pretended to love her and everything was fine, the way he played with her brother and gave her mother a kiss on the cheek, she couldn't stand it anymore, so she told her mother. That time she had murmured an oh, and stared fixedly at a fixed point.

“I know, because I saw them,” Celeste said before her mother even asked anything else, but she didn't, she didn't do anything and was shocked. During the night, it was as if nothing had happened, and she served dinner… that wasn't what she expected, she wanted a scene and chaos; she wanted there to be shouts, but somehow she was grateful that there was no such behavior because of Celeste's little brother. But she was blinded by hatred and remorse towards her father.

The next day she remembers that she reproached her mother, shouting, “won't you do anything?”. She didn't answer. After that, she felt so cold and distant, her father was becoming more and more obvious with his affairs, the smell of a perfume that wasn't his wife's, spontaneous outings, and even nights without returning home.

Celeste couldn't stand pretending to be okay, and two months later, after seeing how her mother deteriorated and faded more and more, she walked to her father's small office in the house, being completely a mess, and told him the truth. “I know you have another woman, maybe mom wants to keep pretending with you but I can't.”

She remembered her father's expression, the surprise on his face and its paleness. Celeste didn't expect a response from him, so she was about to leave, but back then her father acted quickly, getting up from his chair and questioning her. “I saw you, don't try to deny it.”

The following years were him trying to fix it and build a bond with her but it was in vain; suddenly her little brother wondered why his father was too lenient with his sister. Celeste lived through her remaining teenage years trying to be someone normal until she finally got lost in music; she didn't want to spend time at home so she tried to enroll in all the extracurricular courses at her school that didn't involve physical effort like sports. Months later after her horrible confrontation, she found a passion for the piano, all her following school years were based on music, being in recitals whose events she never invited either of her parents to, playing for the drama club, being in the literature club, debate club, creative writing club… until she enrolled in her chosen university dedicated to that one thing she was passionate about.

At first, she knew she would annoy her parents with her career choice, but it was the perfect time to blackmail her father to pay for her institution. She wasn't anywhere near forgiving him, but the psychological damage somehow had a price: getting out of that house. Celeste had a busy life, after rehearsals, she started having part-time jobs since she was sixteen with the dream of living in her own space near the university.

She was so busy, she would come home around 10 or 11 at night and what she found at home was devastating. Her mother was a secretary who became a housewife after her second child was born, a boy named Blake. She dedicated 12 years to taking care of her children until she found out about her husband's infidelity. Cecille gradually became an alcoholic.

Celeste had to see it every night when she came home from work. Her wasted mother lying on the couch with the TV on and a strong smell of alcohol. Celeste had tried everything, her aunt's intervention, enrolling her in support groups, but her mother didn't seem to cooperate.

When she turned fifteen, she begged her father to divorce her mother, but she refused to accept it.

Every now and then she had to go check on her brother, to make sure he didn't turn into a complete idiot like his father, or simply into a bad person, related to what was he seeing at home. But even in that, both dysfunctional parents were lucky, Blake was a shy boy, four years younger than Celeste, who grew up with a passion for physics and mathematics; unlike her, he did go out in the afternoons with his friends and lived a life outside of his home. He didn't care how bad things were, as long as he had somewhere to live and his own space he was more than okay, even when he was fourteen he managed to steal alcohol from his mother to go try it at a friend's house later, not everything had to be so bad, or at least that's what he thought… sometimes Celeste wanted to be like him and try not to worry too much. Little by little, both of them grew up without showing affection, Celeste thought that maybe that's why it wasn't something she sought in other people, her perception of love and respect had been so damaged since she was young but she couldn't accept it. She never felt anything when she saw her classmates holding hands, seeing the cheesy actions of strangers showing affection, a hug was something she only remembered fleetingly from her childhood.

When she finally turned eighteen, she found a roommate and rented a dorm room on campus; that place wasn't her dream, the floor was noisy, full of extroverted theater kids, but it was all she had. She had lived like that for a whole year, with no communication to her parents, working and studying at the same time, only communicating with her brother to wish him Merry Christmas and New Year, and in May, to wish him a happy birthday. It all fell apart in her second year of school when her roommate told her she was moving out and Celeste couldn't afford the full expense, she already had an academic scholarship and her parents were still paying for her institution.

Celeste did it, she called her brother on a normal day that wasn't a holiday, her little brother advised her that she could go back home, that's what he would do when he entered college, since it would only take him routes and buses to get there. “I'll let mom and dad know,” he told her over the phone before abruptly hanging up. Celeste couldn't answer, she couldn't say don't do it. And she insisted by text that she would manage on her own. That day her heart broke when she read the text from her fifteen-year-old brother saying: why do you hate them? come back home for me the uni is literally half an hour away from home

She had no choice, she had everything, she wouldn't pay rent, her payment at the university would continue, she would only work to buy her own things and take care of Blake. She never thought he would feel abandoned. She thought about how much it must have sucked to come home alone, with an absent father and an alcoholic mother.

When she told her roommate that she would return to her home in Woollahra, her expression was incredulous, “you've been living there all this time? Why would you want to live in an uncomfortable dorm?”. Celeste wondered if she was being ungrateful.

And then she returned, her father couldn't be happier, and even her mother's dull face lit up at having her only daughter back. She would go back to being the same, practically just going home to sleep.

If she had everything… why did she feel so empty. Her room was still the same as they had decorated it since she was eight, covered in pale pink and white shades. The years passed and she continued to support her brother, going to academic competitions he attended, and for the first time, she asked him to come see her perform at a recital in her university's auditorium.

And so her life remained, until now that she felt stuck once again, in her third year of university. She felt like she was repeating her high school years and it was suffocating her. If she could leave with Blake she would, but she was just a simple university student with anxiety attacks in the school bathrooms.

—You should ask the new guy next door if he has a girlfriend, seriously, he's cute, Celeste. You've never had a boyfriend, right? —her mother mentioned, leaning on the kitchen counter.

Celeste looked at her incredulously, wondering since when her private life mattered to her, and if she had a boyfriend, it wouldn't be something she'd inform her about. She was about to leave for university, she didn't want those kinds of conversations at 7 in the morning.

—Ew, isn't he like thirty? —her brother added, eating a spoonful of his cereal.

—Age can just be a number, Blakey, we want your sister to find love.

—I have to go —Celeste sighed, escaping the conversation.

She couldn't stop thinking about it. Once again, she was right, why couldn't she find love? Her only friend, whom she rarely contacted, moved in with her mother in Melbourne after finishing high school. And now socializing at university where classmates change and come and go, it was so difficult for her to establish any kind of relationship with anyone. The only person she talked to was… an exchange student who shared only one class on Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Celeste couldn't help but wonder if she should start flirting with him, just to try to feel something in return.

Every time she examined him more… she realized how cute he was, should she approach him? Anyway, he would leave at the end of the semester, no one could die trying.

When they sat together in class, she couldn't help but be distracted by thoughts that tomorrow she would dress up more for Hyunjin, fix her hair more, wear more makeup… the idea of being liked by someone made her so nervous.

And when she looked up, she saw her new teacher, who she could swear was her new handsome neighbor.

As the class began, she remembered her mother's voice saying he was handsome, and without realizing it, a slight mocking smile appeared on her face as she analyzed her new teacher's appearance in detail. Slightly tanned skin, short, dark brown hair semi-wavy, his intense gaze beneath his slit eyes, prominent nose, and thick lips… and his voice was strong, commanding, and nasal, and his build was… Celeste thought… was this what imagination was like when dealing with the sudden rush of hormones?

She had the idea that maybe she wasn't the only one so surprised and delighted by the assignment of the new teacher. She discreetly turned her gaze to the sides, to her other classmates, and noticed how they looked at him intensely without taking their eyes off the man giving the class, Celeste felt foolish, had she looked so obvious? Had Hyunjin noticed?

Once the class ended, Chris said:

—Before you all leave… —he approached his desk and quickly and gently picked up a paper from his desk— Is Celeste Burton here? —he looked up searching among the students.

Celeste frowned and timidly raised her hand, Hyunjin quickly glanced at her friend and then at the teacher, it also seemed strange to him but he didn't pay attention to it; Chris finally managed to perceive her and added:

—Can you come up for a moment to talk?

His gaze fixed on hers, Celeste nodded gently and began to gather her things, suddenly she was feeling nervous and not understanding why.

—The rest of you, I'll see you tomorrow —Chris concluded.

With a nervous smirk, Celeste was about to approach but a warm and large hand holding her wrist made her turn, Hyunjin was so close to her face that she couldn't even react.

—I have to go to the arts campus now, but I'll see you tomorrow, Cel —he informed her with a smile, almost feeling his cool breath.

—Sure.

She limited herself to answer, she was so overwhelmed by the situation's overload, Chris wanted to talk to her and suddenly Hyunjin was approaching dangerously, she couldn't process it. Celeste returned her gaze to Chris, who had his eyes fixed on Hyunjin until he left the classroom, after feeling Celeste's soft gaze, he cleared his throat and looked at her, waiting for her to come closer.

Celeste walked to his desk and the last two students had already left the classroom, leaving only the two of them; she didn't want to appear nervous, she didn't have to be.

—You signed up during the academic break as an apprentice to some teacher at the beginning of the school year —Celeste quickly processed the information while he made eye contact with her—, well Burton, I'll be your mentor, is that okay?

—Oh, sure, I didn't know I had been selected… it's a pleasure, Professor Bang.

Chris gave her a smile and observed her, her still and straight posture with her hands together against her jeans.

—Yes well, the other students applied for classes with other teachers, but you were selected as my apprentice, I heard you're the best in the class.

Chris raised his eyebrows waiting for a reaction from her to his last comment and suddenly he realized that he was starting to ramble, he didn't understand why he did it. He shook his head slightly and tried to refocus.

—I want to discuss schedules. Wednesday is general rehearsal, so I like discipline, how about Monday to Friday excluding Wednesday, from 1 to 4? It'll be in the music room, for tomorrow.

Chris looked at her intently and Celeste began to think… she would have to shorten her work hours if she said yes, she couldn't miss the opportunity, it would be so beneficial to her resume, she wants to believe that he is a good teacher in terms of his knowledge and being his apprentice could lead her to expand her mind. But she would have to sacrifice a few hours of work; despite being sunk in sadness, she liked the little things like makeup, clothes, going to nice cafes, visiting the cinema alone, all without having to ask her parents for money at her twenty years old, so being his apprentice would only mean a little less pay, and working with him, or for him, for free.

Celeste thought for a second about how young he looked to be a mentor, she wondered if he was really qualified.

—You can’t…? —he interrupted her, expecting an answer.

—Oh, sure, yes, I'll be there. Thank you.

She smiled at him and Chris returned the gesture. Celeste was about to leave when the female desire to play a little took over.

She was steps away from walking through the door, but she turned, with a playful smile she searched his gaze, Chris was drawn to her sudden movement thinking that maybe she had forgotten to say something.

—By the way, Mr. Bang, did you just move to Woollahra? —he looked at her with a slight furrow of his brow and she continued— Oh, I didn’t want to sound weird; I just think we're neighbors now too. So, welcome.

Her tone was so sweet and innocent yet somehow wicked; Chris recognized the slight intentions of approach.

She left and left him sure of one thing, that it was her, the pretty and poor girl who cried through her window the night before. Chris swallowed, she's even prettier up close, he thought.

--------------------------

₊˚⊹ ᰔ TAGLIST: @forklesschowder @bubblebisk @calisnewworld @sunarins-whore @bangchansslut6 @snowyquokka @chansbabygirlsstuff @athforskz @heeyboooo @chrizzztopherbang @yerijaksel @moonlightndaydreams @readr1221 @skzswife

lmk if u want to be add 2 the taglist☆

2nd divider by chilumitos, i dont rmber by who the first one oop

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strugglingbigtimw · 2 days

Text

“To lead a better life, I need my love to be here”

Summary: Toji notices something is off about you after you take care of Megumi. Genre: Fluff, angst, hurt, comfort, toji x black!stepmom! Reader

CW: Literally nothing, toji and reader curse, discussions of addiction, Toji calls reader Ma

A/N: This man takes up too much space in my brain. 🤡

6:47 P.M

Toji knew there was something off when he came back home that day.

The silence engulfed the house, with only the occasional sound of your knife slicing into the meat you were preparing for dinner.

7:25 P.M

When he finally gets a good look at you at dinner, you look shaky. Your eyes swirl with worry. So, he bites.

“How was the parent-teacher conference?”

You snap your head up and put a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. “It went well. Megumi is a great student, the teachers are mostly worried because he is quiet. They say he needs to participate more in class and interpersonal discussions.”

Megumi casually rolls his eyes hearing the conversation and goes back to finishing his vegetables.

Toji looks you over. Maybe, you're just tired? Probably, a mood swing of yours. He shrugs and looks down at his plate.

“...Ok.”

10:00 P.M

The night is deadly quiet. He hoped that after Megumi had gone to sleep, you would be better. You weren’t. So, he put his faith in a good night’s rest. It’s been an off day for you, you can just sleep it off.

3:30 A.M

Toji wakes up to an empty bed. He fucking hates it. It reminds him of the lonely days of being a widower. He slowly gets up and begins his mission to find you.

He checks the bathroom and doesn’t find you nor does he find you in the guest bedroom. So, he goes downstairs. He finds you lying on the couch with the tv playing some type of liminal rain ASMR, or whatever white noise helps you sleep. However, when he peeks over the arm, you’re still awake.

“Ma, are you aware of what time it is?” He asks cheekily.

You slowly rise and rub your eyes. Even with the low glow of the TV, he can tell they’re puffier than usual. He bites for a second time.

“Hey Ma, what’s got you so worked up huh?”

You look down. “Nothing, baby.”

Toji sits down on the couch. The third time is the charm right?

“Bullshit. What happened? Hm?”

You sigh. Toji has always been persistent.

“Toji..have you ever noticed that Megumi is like really mature for his age?”

He tilts his head to the side as if you’ve asked him the most idiotic question.

“ ‘m, yeah. What about it?”

You scratch at the nicotine patch on your arm. You stopped smoking when Toji decided he and Megumi would move in with you almost a year ago.

“I don’t see any reason why you should stop, seems like more trouble than it’s worth.”

“Kids learn by example, If I smoke what kind of message is that sending to Megumi?”

You fiddle with the patch, still unused to the foreign feel as you grin.

“Besides, I don’t think he would like the smell.”

“Toji…that’s not normal.” You sigh.

He raises a brow. He knew Megumi was different. However, he always accepted it as a funny, convenient quirk.

You stand up and drag your hands down your face.

“Kids are kids for a reason Toji. They’re supposed to be chaotic, messy, emotional, hell even unpredictable. Megumi is none of those. Every move that child makes is so carefully planned and throughout. He’s never excited about toys, games, or cartoons. he’s always offering to help around the house, Toji he fuckin asked me about our finances once. Hell, even his teachers agree! How can you look me dead in the eyes and tell me that a 6-year-old is “Mature for his age” as a good thing!”

You take a heavy pause. You scratch at your leg.

“He’s only a first grader Toji. He shouldn’t be like this. He-he shouldn’t be a mini adult! He shouldn’t have his guard up all the fuckin time! He’s a child!”

You sit back down on the couch and throw your head between your legs. Toji rubs your hands that are placed on the back of your head.

Your voice cracks, “And-and I know I’m not his mother, hell, I’d never try to replace her. I don’t need him to call me “mom” and have me baby him 24/7, but god..god I’m so fuckin worried.”

You raise your head slightly. Your eyes have become more red and puffy with unshed tears. Toji knows you hate crying. You’ve only cried in front of him twice. First time when you thought your pet Doberman ran away. Second, when you picked Megumi up from school, his homeroom teacher referred to you as his mother.

“I…I just want to tell him that he’s safe. That-that he doesn’t have to worry about not keeping everything in check. That he can exist without having to be “useful”, that he’s not a burden or unlovable because he’s a little kid. I just want him to exist. I just- just don’t want him to turn out like us.”

You slump back on the couch and scratch your nicotine patch again. You look at Toji with glossy eyes.

Usually, he’d put in a snarky remark of “What’s so wrong about me, huh?” but he’s all too aware. Additionally, the shock of you acknowledging your family. He’s always had suspicions, but he, of all people, knew better than to ask. If someone doesn’t talk about their family, its for a reason.

He looks back at you and pulls you into a hug. You lay your head on his broad shoulder. You’re shaking. He slowly leans back to lay you both down. He runs his hand through your scalp.

“You know…” He quietly speaks, almost as if he’s afraid to startle you.

You turn your head to hear him better.

“I think..you’re pretty great. I think…that me and Megumi are thankful to have someone like you. It’s hard right now…but things take time. Don’t push yourself.”

A few loose tears fall as you snuggle in closer to him.

“Thank you, baby.”

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sashimiyas · 3 days

Text

cw: reader calls themself a whore

mama miya has been yelling at osamu every time she finds out her son’s spent most of his day in the shop.

“ya keep doing that and ya gonna grow old alone.”

“yeah, yeah.” osamu would brush off. he’s got time. and the shop needs his.

but then he’s forty and he realizes that life has passed him. he’s committed to business ventures, made partnerships with companies and brands that he’s never dreamed of and shit… ma was right.

he’s old…er. and still alone. at one point, it didn’t bother him. now, osamu recognizes loneliness in its partnership. it’s vacant, an ominous breeze that tickles at his neck.

and then there’s you, cheeky with a cherry between your lips. you seat yourself across the line stranger who seems weary but also put together in ways that you could never be.

the old fashioned in your hand has you feeling bold, old…er than your long abandoned favorite, the margarita.

when you sit in the leather seat, air puffs at the backs of your knees.

swirling your drink with its black, thin straw, you tilt your head while popping the cherry from your mouth by the stem, “the party’s over there.”

his gaze lingers to the dance floor. bodies mingle with each other he cannot discern one from the other. they don a fashion he cannot comprehend, pants too large and patterns louder than the music itself. bright beneath the laser lights, osamu feels like he’d cast a shadow should he join.

“i haven’t partied since…” oh god, has it really been a decade? when he glances back at you again, lips puckered against the artificial red of the garnish, pretty and young and just as sweet, he suddenly feels embarrassed.

the feeling is unknown, as if he’s never felt it before. which is odd since osamu’s failed many times before. even second hand embarrassment is common with atsumu around.

he’s collected this confidence in the years that has easily been trampled by yours.

“… in a fucking long time.”

you finally suck the cherry between your teeth and follow it with a quick gulp of your drink.

“i partied last night.”

that’s funny, osamu thinks. he’s sure you don’t mean it that way, but it makes him laugh.

“wouldn’t expect nothing less.”

“why? because i look like a whore?”

he’s quick to tsk at your verbiage and by your blooming smirk, it’s the response you wanted. “because ya look like ya know how to have a good time.”

“hmm…” you play with your straw, gaze away from his. “yeah? so do you.”

you quickly glance back to the dance floor then him once more.

“tell me about yourself.”

where does he begin? being a twin? volleyball? miya onigiri? maybe ma was right. he’s gone and grown older alone, but he’s done a lot of shit. he’s a storied man. if someone as pretty as you had gone up to him when he was younger and stupid, he’d have fucked this up. but he’s older now, with stories to tell.

and you’re here in the leather seat across from him, intent to listen.

#reinas.inretrograde #there was supposed to be a scene where the reader bites their nails and osamu nags them #‘get that shit outta your mouth. i’ve got better stuff for you to put in it.’ and you think it’s sexual. it’s not bc he just wants to feed #you. its not until it is #reina.writeshaikyuu!!#this is so niche and particular. no one’s gonna like this and that’s okay lol

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monstrousvoice · 2 days

Text

Date Night?

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Relationship: Husk X Female Reader

AN: I had a week long writers block cause of this damn thing, but I hope it turned out well despite the trouble I had writing it. Sorry if the ending seems a little rushed, I was struggling with it

Beta-read by the lovely @irkimatsu! I consider them to be the Husk expert, so their input is very important.

Tags: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Alcohol, Implied Sexual Content, No actual smut tho, Angel Dust being a good friend - Hes there for his buddy, As always - Husk is implied to be on the chubbier side

Summary: Sometimes you need a friendly reminder that you're allowed to be happy.

Read on AO3!

“You should head back to your room.”

Your heart seized at the words being spoken to you. Your back was to him, so he wouldn't see the heartbreak on your face. Not that it did any good, one look in your direction and he'd see the way your shoulders tensed, the way you curled in on yourself for comfort he wouldn't give. Not that he would look in your direction anyways.

Even after the vigorous rounds of sex you went through, even with him sitting right behind you, the bed feels cold.

“Right.” You manage to choke the word out sounding relatively normal. You don't want to move, you're tired and sore and you just want his warm body to hold you close, to bury yourself in his scent and sound and feel loved in a way you don't think you ever have, especially not since falling into hell.

You try once more to reach across the gap between you.

“Uhm…Charlie said she's planning a movie night tomorrow? If you wanted to sit…with me-...” Your voice gives an embarrassing crack from nerves as you propose the offer. You know what his answer will be.

“That…sounds tempting doll…”

But he can't.

“But I can't.”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath even as you sit up. Swallowing the disappointment and hurt welling up in your throat like bile. You don't think there's any room left inside yourself for such pain…

He offers no explanation other than that - he never does - and even knowing he's not paying attention to you, you still nod your head in acceptance.

“Maybe next time.” He offers, as a pathetic attempt at consoling you. You know there will never be a next time.

So why do you always ask?

The answer to that question hurts so bad you feel like you'll collapse into a million shards, never to be put back together again.

You dress yourself in silence, forcing yourself to not look in his direction as you cover the bite marks and forming bruises from the world. Eventually you crack, and peek over your shoulder at him with all the demur bravery of a lamb.

He sits with his back towards you and the door, facing the red wall of his room. A bottle of cheap booze is already in his claws, and he takes a swig of it without acknowledging your existence. Like you didn't even exist if your cunt wasn't squeezing his dick.

You feel like you're about to vomit.

Clothes on, the area between your thighs feeling sticky and used like a throw away toy, you sneak out of his room and walk back to yours feeling disgusting and weak.

Husk only looks back after you close his door.

~~~~~~

“A-and then he just fucking fell over! Dick still out!” Angel cackled, throwing his head back as he laughed at his own story. Husk laughed with him, the pleasant buzz of being drunk making everything funny. He poured the two of them another shot each as Angel continued.

“Fuck man, it feels so good to laugh. You know that Husky? For fucking years I've been down here-” The spider hiccuped as he grabbed his drink, downing it in one go. “-And I've never been happier than I have been since coming to this tacky ass hotel.” Husk nodded along to his words, letting the spider speak his mind.

“Like, I actually have fucking friends here! That's insane!” Angel laughed, looking giddy. “I-I actually…like being here…” The smile didn't leave his face, but it did soften a tad, looking more genuine and true. His lower hands were folded on his lap under the bar top, and he was leaning against the wood on one top arm. His free arm was idly playing with his glass, tilting it onto its bottom edge and rolling it in circles. His eyes stayed glued to the last bit of liquid courage inside, swishing side to side as he rocked the glass.

“It is…pretty nice here. Even if I was forced into it.” Husk conceded. He wasn't even pretending to work anymore, leaning on one arm on top of the bar as he spoke. He felt so calm and sluggish…like he could lay here and sleep for days…

And then Angel spoke again.

“Oh yeah, I'm sure you don't regret meetin’ her, eh?” His tone was light, and the smile he gave Husk was a genuine one. It made the bartender's blood go cold. Immediately he shifted, shoulders stiffening as he closed himself off.

“I don't know what you're talking about.” He grumbled out, looking away and scowling. Angel froze, letting his glass fall back onto its bottom with a ‘tink’. He raised a single eyebrow and narrowed his eyes at the cat demon.

“I'm pretty sure you do whiskers.” Angel leaned forward, genuine concern overtaking his features. “What happen’? You two get in a fight?” Husk growled low in his throat, the fur along his spine bristling.

The image of your face flashed in his mind, looking so fucking sad, all because of him-

“Drop it. It doesn't fuckin’ matter.” He hissed. He felt uncomfortably exposed in this moment, alcohol mixing with his self loathing into a potent concoction of misery, and Angel is still fucking staring-

“Why do you do that?”

That…was not the question Husk was expecting.

“What?” He asked, more bewildered by the question than angry.

“You and I are friends now, yeah?” The spider asked, gesturing between them both with a single hand. He didn't wait for Husk to respond before continuing. “We're losers, you said. And so it's okay to do loser things in front of each other cause it doesn't matter. So why ain't you tellin me what's wrong with your girl?” He dropped his hand back onto the bar top, drumming his nails against it as he continued. The alcohol in his system put him in a ranting mood.

Husk wanted to be offended, to tell him to fuck off and mind his own business, but he just…couldn't. As Angel spoke, Husk's ears drooped lower, his tail curling around his legs.

“We all know you like her, you know. We all see it, and we all hear it, lemme tell ya. So if there's a problem…I'm here to help, or whatever.” Angel rolled his eyes at his own words, hating how corny it sounded but meaning every word.

Husk sighed, leaning his full weight against the bar. His gut told him this was a terrible idea, but…he did trust Angel. Maybe…he could help?

“For starters…she's not my girl.” Angel looked genuinely shocked at his words, sitting up straight and furrowing his brows.

“I didn't take her for a ‘fuck, no attachments’, kinda gal.”

“Cause she ain't. I'm the one who said to keep things…whatever.” He gestured vaguely, unsure how to label what you two are even to himself. Angel's eyes widened in surprise, blinking at Husk like it was the first time he'd ever seen a demon.

“Well…why the hell did ya go and do that?”

Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was Angel trying his damn best to be his friend…maybe it was the way your voice had sounded late last night when he told you to leave his bed…

Husk felt himself crack.

He hung his head, feeling pain and self loathing flood through him. His next words sounded tired and sad.

“Fuck, cause what else could I do, Anthony?” He took a shuddering breath. “Ask her to be mine and go on to live happy, knowing that someone like her is fucking-...fucking chained to me? A fat alcoholic who's addicted to gambling everything, even his own damn soul, away!?” The bristling of his fur was starting again, his tail swishing angrily at his feet. Even his wings were tense and ready to flare open. Angel - Anthony, simply stared at him, wide eyed but unimpressed.

“Wasn't there something you told me before…? Hmm let me think,” The spider pretended to think, giving an exaggerated eye roll as he did so. “Oh, yeah! You think that makes you unique?” Husk paused, eyebrows furrowing at his own words being spoken back to him.

“Everyone has problems down here buddy, you know that as well as I do.” Anthony brought a hand up to pat him on the shoulder, a small smile on his face. “So if someone wants to be near ya despite that…well what's stoppin’ ya?”

Husk couldn't meet his eyes any longer, lowering himself till he was laying his head on his folded arms on the bar top. His ears drooped as he huffed the saddest, most pitiful sigh of his life - and death.

“Because she's worth so much more than that. Because the way she smiles is damn near perfect, and she doesn't even seem to hate when I have too much to drink, she goes out of her way to say ‘hi’ to me…Because she makes me feel so damn happy…” He buried his face in his arms, his voice coming out muffled. He hoped it concealed the way his voice cracked with emotion.

“And that's what terrifies me the most.”

Anthony didn't say anything in response. He moved his hand from Husk's shoulder to his head and neck, idly stroking the soft fur there and finishing his drink. He gave his friend the time needed to compose himself, waiting patiently.

It took a few minutes, but Husk came back to him. The bartender straightened up, carding his claws over his muzzle and back over his ears to link behind his neck. He breathed deep, cracking his neck side to side before letting his hands fall back down as he exhaled. Angel took his hand off him, letting his friend have his space for a moment.

“Feel better?”

“...A bit, yeah.”

The pair stood in silence for a moment. Angel took a last sip of his drink, pushing the empty glass back towards Husk.

“I can't tell ya what to do Husky, that's your choice.” The spider shrugged his shoulders, “But I do think you should give it a shot. We're allowed to be happy here.” Husk grabbed the glass, moving on autopilot as he dunked it in the soapy water of the sink to clean. He dried it with a rag as he thought on Angel's words.

“Just…think on it baby.” And with that the spider demon stood, knocking on the bar counter with knuckles before heading towards the stairs. Husk stayed put, letting his emotions settle in the quiet of the hotel lobby.

He went through the motions of closing up, emptying the sinks and restocking as he thought. He knows he's a piece a shit, that he's irredeemable at this point…but maybe Angel has a point.

They were all surrounded by crooks and murderers and assholes, but if you choose to be with him then maybe he should embrace it? Maybe that was the last good thing his stupid ass could do, was make you happy…

Charlie's lessons must be getting to him.

Even so, he couldn't stop smiling as he went back to his room, thoughts and ideas of how to impress you blooming in his mind like flowers. He could use his old suit, that still fit him…and Charlie no doubt knew a place that grew pretty hellspawn flowers, she seemed the type to like that sort of thing.

Husk finally found sleep late in the night, the resolve to sweep you off your feet boiling his blood and making him dream of color for the first time in decades.

~~~~~~~

When you got out of bed this morning, you didn't expect anything special. You went about your routine and stepped out of your room, only to hear a ‘crunch’ and feel the shape of something under your feet as you stepped out. With a sense of panic you jumped away, your mind immediately assuming that Nifty was crawling on the hallway floor and you had somehow crushed the small demon under you, despite how ridiculous that seemed.

Instead, you found…something not alive, thank Lucifer. You tiptoed closer to peer at it, and recognized bright colored paper wrapped snugly around some very crushed flowers. Confused and more than a little curious, you picked them up, noticing a bent up card tucked in-between the stems. You recognized the handwriting.

Doll,

Got these for you, hope you like em.

I wanna take you out tonight, somewhere nice. I'll stop by your room at 6 to get you. You don't need to go too fancy, just wear something nice but comfortable.

Husk

You stared…and stared some more. Take you out? Where did this come from? You looked up and down the hallway, half expecting Alastor to pop out and laugh about how he ‘got you’ and your look of confusion was sooo funny. Then laugh even harder when he saw how genuinely hurt you felt over a fake letter from the bartender.

No such thing happened.

You continued standing in the empty hallway, looking back and forth for an explanation you wouldn't get. Eyebrows furrowed, you looked back to the card, flipping it this way and that as if you missed some secret note. When nothing changed, you looked at the flowers. They were nice, or at least, they were before you accidentally stepped on them. No other messages attached, though.

You popped back into your room to lay the items on your dresser. Did you really believe this? Husk has made it clear he didn't…didn't want anything more than a rough night of sex every once in a while. He couldn't have left this for you…

Could he?

Hope sparked in your chest, so fast-so quick, and you immediately shook your head and tried to squash it down. No. No. You were not doing this. You were not going to get your hopes up that this was anything more than a booty call. He wanted to get dinner or something first? Fine. You could do that and not get attached like a leech to the smallest bit of affection he showed you.

Should you even go…?

The constant loop you found yourself in with the cat demon…it was taking a toll on you. You could feel it in the way your eyes still stung after crying the night before, the way your chest ached at the thought of him. The sex was good, amazing even, but was it worth the hurt you felt every time you tried to reach for his hand only for Husk to pull away like you burned him?

You groaned, rubbing your face in frustration. Why did you have to make these things complicated? Why couldn't you just take what he offers you and be happy with that?

You knew why…

Huffing, you stared at the letter and flowers and made a decision. You would try tonight, and see if you could make this…thing between the two of you work without all the…the emotions and stuff. And if you couldn't, you would stop. Because it wouldn't be fair to you, and it wouldn't be fair to him.

Just one more try.

And so you found yourself waiting in your room hours later. You had done as Husk’s letter said, dressed in something nice but comfortable, worrying your bottom lip to dust from nerves. What were you supposed to expect from tonight? A cheap dinner to get you in the mood for sex only to be told to leave in the morning once more? You so desperately wanted more than that…

You jumped at the sound of knocking on your door. Tripping over your own feet, you managed to get the door open and felt surprised by what you saw. Husk stood before you, fur slicked back and neat looking, with a proper casual suit on - no missing shirt. He still wore his suspenders, thumbs hooked into the straps and pulling them as he waited for you.

His pupils dilated at the sight of you.

“Whoa…You uh-you look nice doll.” Husk smiled at you, and you felt your heart melt a little. You smoothed non-existent wrinkles in your clothes, fiddling with your appearance.

“Thanks…I hope it's not too casual? Or too fancy?” He shook his head ‘no’ at your words. “You look very nice too, Husk. Very handsome…” Your voice trailed off as you spoke, nervous you were overstepping a line by complimenting him back.

He opened his mouth to protest, but stopped himself. You were biting your bottom lip, bracing yourself for him to reject your kindness and tell you not to get attached to him, like he always did…

Husk swallowed his words, awkwardly scratching the back of his head as his eyes darted to the floor.

“Right, thanks baby…” He mumbled, feeling embarrassed. By the way you relaxed, looking at him with wide hopeful eyes, he figured he gave the correct response. Shaking off his nerves, Husk moved to a slight bow, gesturing for you to take a step past him and into the hallway.

“After you, sweet thing.”

~~~~~~~

Dinner was…something.

It was a tiny hole in the wall joint that Husk brought you to, one with good food and better alcohol. It looked a little nicer than your average bar however, with nice mood lightning and even music. You wondered if the reason it was so nice was because it was on the edge of the city, not far from the Hotel. Less gangs looking to rob a place all the way out here.

When you sat down, immediately your gut started churning with self loathing and fear. What happened now?

Normally going out with Husk meant him getting absolutely sloshed before flirting with you, asking you to come to bed with him. The words he spoke always managed to make you blush, his baritone voice doing wonders to your body even as you knew he was only interested because of the alcohol coating his breath.

He never seemed to stay sober in your company long enough to talk seriously. You doubted he even remembered the numerous nights you gave in to his charms.

Would tonight just be a repeat of that?

When he ordered a hard whiskey as you settled down into a booth, you feared the worst.

“So um…why did you want me to come out tonight?” You asked, staring a hole into the table top as you hated yourself for falling for this again. You didn't even notice the waiter putting your drink in front of you. Husk took a sip, a single sip, of his drink before turning to you. At least he wasn't chugging them tonight…

“Well I uh…I wanted to do something for you. Make up for everything else, I guess.” You gave him a questioning look, one eyebrow raised. When he didn't elaborate further, you sighed, curling in on yourself where you sat.

“Right, okay…” Your voice trailed off, the two of you sitting in silence even as others in the bar made a ruckus of noise. Out the corner of your eye you saw Husk open his mouth as if to speak, only to snap his jaw shut and take another sip of whiskey.

Just as you thought you would go mad from the suffocating tension, your waiter came back.

“The fuck you guys want?” He asked. He was chewing something (tobacco maybe? smelled like tobacco) obnoxiously loud, looking bored as he started down at you.

You floundered for a moment, realizing you hadn't even looked at the menu yet to see what you wanted. Panic rose in your chest and squeezed your lungs tight as your brain short circuited on what to say.

“Uh-”

“Two of the house specials, and make sure to-” You turned to look at Husk with wide eyes as he ordered for you, telling the server exactly what you wanted and didn't want on your food. Your waiter rolled his eyes and scoffed even as he wrote everything down, not noticing the grateful and shocked look you were sending the cat demon.

You couldn't believe it, Husk actually knew what you liked! You had honestly thought he never noticed what you ordered to eat…

“Th-thank you…” You managed to squeak out after the waiter left. Husk smirked at you, eyes hooded and pupils wide as he looked at you.

“Gotta make sure my baby gets what she wants~” He all but purred at you. He shifted closer to you in the booth, and you jumped in your seat at the soft tickling of his tail against your leg.

Oh no.

You tried to smile back despite the mix of emotions making your stomach twist. You took a deep breath, trying to calm the pounding of your heart, if only he would stop staring at you like that-

“H-how was your day!?” You blurted out, a little louder than you meant to. Husk's eyes went wide just like yours did, taken back by your volume. You covered your mouth in embarrassment, giving a muffled apology.

“Sorry, sorry…didn't mean to be so loud…” He chuckled in response, a deep sound that vibrated through your body even with the distance between you. Distance he was slowly closing in on.

“S’alright baby girl.” Oh god- “My day was alright. Was making sure I got everything done at the bar in time for this.” He gestured between the two of you, and all you could do in response was nod. What was happening right now!? Husk never acted so bold towards you until he had a few drinks in him - and ‘a few’ is quite a bit before he started to feel the buzz of intoxication. Was he drinking before he picked you up? He didn't seem drunk at the time, but it's the only explanation your fried brain could think of as to why he was acting so…not himself.

Everything today was going against the norm of your relationship. Husk never complimented you like he did today. He never let you compliment him back. He never called you nicknames unless he was in the mood for a night of fucking.

Was that what this all was? Just another attempt to get you in his bed only for him to push you away again come morning?

Your chest felt tight…you couldn't breathe. He was so close now-

“How ‘bout you? Good day, I hope.” As he spoke, he brought a paw up, laying it over your own hand on the table.

Oh no.

No, you couldn't do this. Husk never asked about your day. Whatever this was, it wasn't going to end well for you, your gut was urging you to run.

You took in a deep breath to ground yourself, and pulled your hand away from his. You didn't meet his eyes.

If you had, you would have seen the quiet worry in his gaze. He already missed the warmth of your hand.

“You don't have to do that.” You whispered.

“Do what?” Husk asked, a feathered eyebrow raising in concern. Why weren't you looking at him…?

“I mean you don't have to pretend to care, or anything. It's not necessary, we both know what this is all for.”

“...What?” The bartender sat up straight, slowly pulling away from your personal space.

“You know that I like you already, Husk.”

“Yeah…?”

“And…well, after dinner you'll want to go back to the hotel. You'll want to sit at the bar for a little while, have a few more drinks…and I'll sit with you because-” You paused, swallowing hard. Husk didn't say anything, only the sound of his breathing letting you know he was even still sitting with you.

“You'll ask me to come up to your room again. And I will. You'll have me sit on the bed and we'll talk a little, but after everything you've had to drink you won't remember it…nope.”

“...I remember the things you tell me…” His voice was soft, but you didn't stop talking. You couldn't.

“I'll stay for the night. And it'll feel…so good to be with you. To have your hands on me, to feel desired and wanted…by you. And I'll convince myself that maybe you really do feel that way for me…that you want me for more than sex. That this time is different…And I'll feel happy.” You took a deep, shuddering breath. Your eyes were fixated on an old stain in the wood. Husk sat in silence next to you, ears perked in your direction.

“A-a-and then…morning comes. And you'll ask me to leave. And I'll try, fuck will I try, to-to…to reach out, in some way. But oh no, you're busy. Can't meet up later, can't spend time together. And I'll go back to my room, my legs s-sore and covered in-” You sniffed, feeling a sting behind your eyes that you refused to give in to.

“...And I'll lie in bed and slowly die all over again.”

Silence between you two. Someone at the bar is hauled outside by security. A group of demons a couple tables over cheer and shout over a game they're playing.

You look at Husk, your eyes burning with unshed tears. His own eyes were wide as he stared at you, like it was the first time he was seeing you. Really seeing you. His ears were wilting, laying flat against his head. His wings were closed tight against his back.

You couldn't help but give a disbelieving laugh as you spoke again.

“I…I don't know why I put myself through this…” you whispered. That was a lie.

Husk felt his blood freeze, his heart crack and break as he looked into your eyes. His hand moved on instinct, moving to cup your cheek. You flinched at his touch, as if you forgot he was really there with you, in this moment. Your eyelashes fluttered as his warm paw settled on your face, your tears finally falling. He used his thumb to wipe them away.

He liked the way your face looked, cradled by his own paws.

“I'm sorry.” He whispered. You didn't respond, simply looking through him with a thousand yard stare. “I'm so sorry baby girl…I shouldn't have done that to you, I never wanted to make you feel so low that…that you think of yourself like this.”

He feels you swallow beneath his claws. You haven't pulled away, yet, and he can't thank whatever god exists above you both enough for such a small mercy in Hell.

“I was scared. I'm still scared…” He mumbled, pulling your face closer to his own. His wings wrapped around you both, shielding you from the rest of the bar as he spoke. “I thought…bringing you out tonight would be a step in the right direction. Showing you…how much you mean to me.”

You whimpered at his words, eyes closing as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. Despite his surprise, he let you, quickly wrapping his arms around your shoulders to hold you even closer. He could feel your hot breath on his fur, a little wet from your tears too, but he didn't mind. As long as no one else in the bar saw you like this. A curtain of red feathers made sure that was the case.

“I do want more baby…I swear I do. I'll take you out to dinner, I'll talk with you and I'll listen, I swear it-! And I'll hold you if you'll let me…I wanna hold you so bad…” Husk pressed a kiss against the back of your head, nuzzling his nose against you. His own voice sounded choked up at this point, and he swallowed hard to keep his emotions in check.

You nodded against him, gripping his fur tight in each of your hands. You felt overwhelmed, but you were happy despite that. His words felt like a balm on a burn, soothing and pleasant.

Breathing deep to calm yourself down, you slowly pulled away, just enough that you could look him in the eye. A thin ring of molten gold around wide pupils watched you in turn, and you could see the slight fear in him that you would pull away completely. You had no intention of doing so.

“You r-really, really mean it?” You asked, voice so soft you wondered for a moment if he even heard you. His soft smile said otherwise.

“Yeah, yeah I really do babydoll. I won't…I won't be great at it, at first-” He cringed at his words, ears going flat. “But I just ask for a chance, a real chance, to show you I can do better. Please.” You're leaning in to press kisses against his muzzle before he's done speaking, your hands carding through the fur of his chest and up to cup around the base of his ears.

You hear a faint purr under the loud atmosphere of the bar.

“Okay…” You manage to say in between smooches on white and black fur. Husk simply holds you tighter to him, claws pressing into the muscle of your back and shoulders.

You stay like that for a moment, holding each other and calming down before you have to face the world again. You wipe your eyes and try to fix Husk's fur, smoothing out the spots you had mussed. You were both smiling.

“Hey, we don't allow fucking in here, put the wings down or get a room.” The voice of your waiter cut through the tender moment. Like magic, Husk's demeanor changed, his usual grumpy frown back like it had never been missing. He dropped his wings as asked, but gave a scathing glare to your waiter.

“Wern’t fucking, dickhead. Just leave the food and go.” The waiter’s unimpressed gaze flicked between you two. Your flushed face, Husk's still messy fur, the wrinkles in your clothes from holding each other…

“Uh huh, yeah whatever man. Just don't do it.” With an eye roll so dramatic you wondered how his eyes stayed in his skull, your waiter placed your plates with an unceremonious ‘thunk!’ on the table and sauntered away.

Husk glared after him, and the sight was too much-you laughed. Husk looked back at you with wide eyes, before his own grin took over his face, and he was chuckling along with you.

“Well, that happened~!” He rumbled. You leaned against him, still giggling to yourself as you wrapped your arms around his middle. “You ready to eat, doll?” His own arm settled over your shoulders as you snuggled into his side.

“Mhm~” You nodded, pulling your plate closer so you could eat while snuggled against him still. Husk didn't seem to mind, squeezing you tight before digging into his own food. You could feel him rise and fall with his breathing, his stomach pressing against you, soft fur feeling warm against you.

You didn't talk much, too exhausted after the onslaught of feelings you just sorted through together. The food was fine, the drinks were fine. What made you happy was being held close by Husk, and knowing you could hold him close too, and he wouldn't push you away.

Even after eating, even after flipping off your waiter as he left your table with his tip, even as you walked down the hectic streets of the Pride Ring, you were still holding each other in some way. You needed to feel him against you, to feel his warmth as you made your way back to the Hotel. When Husk gently tugged you towards his room, you followed. When he pulled you into bed with him, you wrapped around him like a leech, legs and arms tangling with his as you settled down. You drifted off to sleep feeling warm, surrounded by the sound of his purring.

#Hazbin Hotel #Hazbin Hotel Husk #Hazbin Hotel X Reader #Hazbin Hotel Husk X Reader #Husk X Reader #Hazbin Hotel Angel Dust #TW Mentions of Alcohol #My Writing

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writingforstraykids · 2 days

Note

hiya! i'm still pretty new to your blog but i really like your writing! english isn't my first language but i hope my request is still understandable ^^

m!reader (with they/them pronouns if possible 👉🏻👈🏻) is best friends with chan. chan praises the reader in some way and figures out that they have a praise kink so he just keeps praising them to make them flustered all the time (bonus points if he throws in the classic 'good boy')

oh and i wanted to ask if i could maybe be 🦖 anon?

thank you!

It's always been you

Pairing: Chan x m!reader with they/them pronouns (mention of Minsung)

Word Count: 4301

Summary: Chan and you have been best friends for what feels like forever. You long for more, not knowing that Chan feels the same. Minho and Jisung decide to lend you a hand the way Chan and you did for them.

Warnings/Tags: friends to lovers, fluff, slight angst, smut, teasing, praise kink, dry humping

A/N: I know we've talked a while ago about this request but I hope I did your wishes for it justice, my dear🖤

You hum gently to yourself as you make your way back home, scrolling through your phone as you try to find a good song. A smile covers your lips as your best friend's voice rings through your ears and you can't help the warm feeling spreading through you. Chan invited you over for a movie night with the boys, and you couldn't wait to spend time with them…or him. Being around Chan made you feel things you never felt for anyone else ever before. Those soft brown eyes, beautiful smile, and warm hugs made you feel so loved. You know there's no chance he would ever love you back, but that didn't stop you from gazing after him.

You reach their dorm, and Minho lets you in, pulling you into a short hug. “Hey, Min.”

“Hey,” he smiles and closes the door behind you. “Channie hyung will be there in a bit. He went out to grab some snacks with Ji,” he explains and pats your back, leading you inside.

“Oh, okay,” you nod and glance around the living room, where they've already set everything up. “Can I still help with anything?”

“Nah, you're fine,” he tells you and gently shoves you toward the sofa. “Relax, okay? We got it.”

“Fuck, Ji, it's getting worse every time they're there,” Chan sighs and grabs some of your favorite cookies.

“Worse?” Jisung frowns, and Chan nods weakly.

“Yeah, they're so funny and adorable and so pretty,” he says and glances at his friend nervously. “I really want to be more than just friends.”

Jisung squints his eyes at him suspiciously. “Just sex or more?” he asks quietly.

“Not just sex,” Chan shakes his head and awkwardly scratches his neck. “I wanna be there for them, make sure they're safe and loved.”

“Why don't you tell them?” he asks curiously.

“I'm scared of ruining our friendship,” he admits.

“You will, one way or the other, won't you?” he asks gently. “You'll regret it if you don't tell them, believe me. I could've saved myself a lot of pain if I told Minho hyung a lot earlier.”

“Yeah, but…I told you Minho loves you. You had some clarity after that,” he sighs softly.

“I can ask Y/nnie,” he shrugs, and Chan's eyes widen fearfully. “Then I'll tell you, and you can decide what to do with that information.”

“Yeah, okay,” he gives in after a moment.

You look up as they return from the store and smile softly, spotting Chan and giving him a small wave. Chan smiles back, walks past you, and gently pats your head. “Hey, bestie.”

“Hey,” you smile gently, swallowing at the word that once brought you so much comfort but now is a simple reminder of what you didn't have.

You see Minho greeting Jisung, pulling him into a hug, and gently rubbing his back. He asks him something you can't quite hear, but his eyes are so soft, his voice gentle, it makes your heartache. Minho giggles at Jisung’s answer and cups his face, kissing his forehead. You quickly look away, biting your lower lip. You still remember how happy you were when they got together, but over time it got hard to watch, wishing for something like this with Chan. “Y/nnie, can I talk to you for a second?” Jisung asks as he pulls back. “I need help with something.”

“You're okay?” Minho asks worriedly.

“I'm okay,” he assures him softly and squeezes his hand. “Come on,” he waves you over. You get up, not noticing Chan's anxious glance as you leave the room.

Minho glances at him suspiciously. “Oh…that?”

“Mhm,” Chan nods nervously and Minho flashes him an encouraging smile.

“How could they not love you, huh?” he chuckles compassionately. “Relax, hyungie.”

Only a little later, you're back in the living room, trying not to look all too confused. There isn't much space left on the sofa, and Chan pulls you into his lap naturally. You sink back into him and bite your lower lip nervously. Why the hell did Jisung ask if you're in love? With Chan? Was it that obvious?

You can barely focus on the movie playing and want nothing more but to leave and think this all through. It's over sooner than you thought, and you're all sitting in a circle on the carpet now.

“Truth or dare anyone?” Seungmin asks, and you curse yourself quietly. Of course.

“Not for me, I should get -” you start and see Chan's smile fading.

“You're leaving already?” he asks worriedly, and you nod quickly.

“Oh, come on, Y/nnie,” Jeongin pouts at you.

“You can't leave already,” Changing protests and places the cards into your circle.

“Fine,” you give in weakly and sit down next to Chan, who lifts you into his lap rather quickly again. His arms wrap around your waist, and his chin rests on your shoulder. “Clingy,” you comment fondly.

“Fuck off,” Chan gives back just as fondly.

The game goes on, and luckily, you're getting easy tasks and questions that don't make you uncomfortable. Jisung is sleeping in Minho's lap by now as the latter plays with his hair, and Felix's head is resting on his shoulder. Seungmin and Innie keep on teasing each other, hoping for the most stupid questions for each other. Changbin is still reading the questions, and Hyunjin giggles every time he shows him beforehand. You're still comfortable in Chan's lap and giggle as Seungmin spins the bottle, and it points at the two of you.

“That's pretty in the middle,” Changbin states and frowns softly.

“I can go; I'll take truth,” Chan volunteers. Changbin glances down at the question before grinning.

“Do you have a crush? If so, who?” he reads out loud, and Chan stiffens beneath you.

“I do,” he nods, and your throat dries.

“Who?” Hyunjin asks, pointing out the second part of the question.

“Someone I know really well,” Chan says, and your heart drops. That could be everyone in this room, and looking at the others, you know it can't be you. There's no chance. You push yourself from his lap before you fully comprehend your thoughts, excusing yourself for the bathroom. Chan glances after you worriedly as you bump into the table on the way out and exchanges a worried look with Minho.

“I got it,” Minho nods and gently plants a sleeping Jisung into Felix's lap. “You go on,” he tells the rest before making his way upstairs to the bathroom. Minho gently knocks at the door and fondly rolls his eyes as you don't answer. “Y/nnie, let me in,” he says and waits for another moment. “I'll go get Chan if you don't.” You quickly open the door and pull him inside, locking the door again. “Cozy,” he comments teasingly.

“Why are you even here?” you sigh softly and sit down heavily at the edge of the bathtub.

“Shouldn't I ask you that? This can't be more comfortable than Chan hyung’s lap,” he says and sits down next to you, shaking his head. “Definitely not.”

“Mhm, you should know, right?” you ask sarcastically, and Minho grins.

“Oh, I do…I've seen…or felt…everything you dream about,” he chuckles and gently pats your thigh. “I'm with Ji. What's stopping you now, huh?”

“Don't be ridiculous,” you shake your head and sigh heavily. “There's no way on earth Chan would love me and - oh fuck, I sound just like you,” you groan.

“You do,” he giggles. “And I remember you telling me to get myself together and finally realize how handsome I am.”

“Well, you are, you dumbass,” you roll your eyes at him. “That doesn't exactly apply to me.”

“I think…I know Chan thinks very differently about that,” he says and is quiet for a moment. “So do I, dumbass,” he says and gently smacks the back of your head.

Minho's words hit you like a wave, washing away the stubborn layers of doubt that had clung to you all evening. Despite the sting of his playful smack, there's an undeniable warmth in his words, an affirmation that maybe, just maybe, Chan might feel the same way about you.

"But, Min," you start, your voice trembling slightly from the mix of hope and uncertainty, "What if you're wrong? What if he doesn't... What if it's not me he's talking about?"

Minho raises an eyebrow and gives you a look that screams exasperation mixed with fondness. "Y/nnie, when have I ever steered you wrong? Listen, Chan's not as good at hiding his feelings as he thinks. The way he looks at you? I've seen it. It's more than just friendship. This isn’t my talk to have, though, you know?"

You're about to respond, but there's a knock on the bathroom door that makes you both flinch. "It's me," a voice says, one that sends butterflies rampaging through your stomach. Chan.

Minho winks at you and stands up. He walks past Chan with a knowing look as he exits the bathroom, leaving the door slightly ajar. You're frozen in place, your heart pounding so loudly you're sure Chan can hear it.

Chan steps inside, closes the door behind him, and leans against it. His eyes search yours, filled with a nervous energy that matches your own. "Y/nnie, are you okay? I noticed you left suddenly..."

Taking a deep breath, you nod slowly, trying to muster the courage that Minho seemed to think you had in abundance. "I'm okay, Chan. Just... a lot on my mind, I guess."

Chan moves closer, his concern evident. "Anything you want to talk about? You know you can tell me anything, right?"

The sincerity in his voice nearly breaks you. With a shaky exhale, you decide it's now or never. "Chan, I... I need to ask you something. Earlier, when you said you have a crush... was that-"

Chan's face changes then, but before you can interpret it, he lets out a breath he seems to have been holding. "Yes, it's you. It's always been you, Y/nnie. I was just too scared to say anything because I didn't want to ruin what we had."

The words you had feared and hoped to hear tumble into the small space between you, and for a moment, the world stops. Tears prick your eyes, not from sadness but from an overwhelming relief that floods through you.

"Chan, I... I feel the same," you confess, the weight of your unspoken feelings lifting off your shoulders. "I was so afraid you'd never see me that way."

Chan steps forward, closing the distance between you in an instant. His hands cup your face gently, and he smiles - a real, soft smile that you've dreamed of being meant for you. "How could I not? You're amazing, Y/nnie. I've just been an idiot about it."

And then he kisses you, a soft, sweet kiss that promises more. As you melt into him, the fears and doubts of the past fade away, replaced by the excitement of what comes next.

Outside the bathroom, the sounds of the ongoing game and the laughter of your friends continue, a reminder of the world waiting for you both. But for now, in this small, shared space, nothing matters more than the two of you finally bridging the gap between friendship and something much deeper.

When you finally pull away, Chan's grin is as bright as the stars you imagine are shining outside. "Come on," he says, taking your hand. "Let's go back.”

The two of you sit down again, and you lean back against him comfortably. Your eyes meet Minho’s, and you can’t help but beam at him. Minho smiles gently and winks at you, focusing back on the game. Chan gently intertwines your hands in front of your stomach and rests his head on your shoulder. “Tired?” you ask him quietly enough for only him to hear.

“Starting to be, yeah,” he hums quietly. “You wanna stay tonight?” he asks so sweetly there was no chance you’d deny him.

“I would love to,” you nod.

The evening goes on, but the atmosphere around you is subtly different now. The other guys seem to pick up on the shift; quick, knowing glances are exchanged, and an occasional smirk is poorly disguised as a cough. As the evening slowly comes to a stop, the games gradually transform into yawns and stretching limbs. One by one, the room starts to empty as everyone heads to their room. Changbin claps Chan on the back as he passes by, whispering something that makes Chan chuckle and squeeze your hand tighter.

Once the room is empty, Chan shifts slightly, turning to face you. "So, what do you want to do?" he asks, his voice low and warm. "We could start another movie, just the two of us, or maybe just talk?"

"The talking sounds nice," you reply, smiling at him

Chan nods in agreement and stands, leading you to his room. You’ve been here so often before, but you never fail to feel at home here. He shuts the door behind you and sits on the edge of the bed, patting the space next to him.

You join him, feeling a blend of excitement and nervousness. "I'm really glad you're here," Chan begins, turning to you with a beautiful smile that makes your heart flutter. "I've wanted to talk like this for so long but didn't know how to start."

"Me too," you admit. "I always wondered what this would be like, talking to you like this, knowing we both feel the same way."

Chan reaches out, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "I've been so scared of messing things up," he confesses. "I didn't want to lose you by taking a step that might have been too much, too soon."

You nod, understanding his fears because they mirror your own. "But we didn't mess it up, did we? We're here now, and it feels right."

"It does," he agrees, his eyes lighting up with a mixture of relief and happiness. "It feels perfect."

"What do you think will happen with us?" you ask a small part of you needing reassurance that tonight's magic will extend beyond dawn.

Chan squeezes your hand, his gaze steady. "I think we're going to be great," he says. "We already know each other so well, and we care about each other. We just have to keep doing what we're doing."

"I love that," you whisper, leaning your head against his shoulder.

"I love you," Chan says softly, the words spoken so naturally, echoing through the quiet room.

"I love you too, Channie," you respond, turning to face him. Your eyes meet his in a look that feels like a promise. He smiles sweetly, dimples showing, and gives you another quick kiss.

Chan stands up and offers you a shirt to sleep in, his shy smile making you laugh. You change and slide under the covers beside him, his arm coming around to hold you close.

The comfort of his embrace and the steady beat of his heart soon draw you into slumber, the challenges of the day fading into the peace of the night.

Two weeks later

You’re at the kitchen table with Minho, whispering the details of Chan’s and your first kiss and talk to him. You haven’t really had time to before with Minho gone for a few days. Minho listens curiously, nodding along, and you can tell he’s happy for you. The rest slowly join you for breakfast, and then Chan comes back from his shower after his gym session. His curls are still damp, a bright smile covering his face as he sees you. He passes you, gently squeezing your shoulder. “Morning, pretty,” he says softly, and you can’t help but feel flustered. A quick kiss to your temple follows, and he’s gone again already, getting himself something to drink.

Minho notices the blush settling on your cheeks and giggles. “That easily?” he asks, amused.

You gently shove his shoulder. “Shut up,” you mutter. “I’m not used to it.”

“Mhm,” he hums, still giggling softly.

It gets worse as Chan slips into the chair next to you, flashing you a bright smile and casually resting his hand on your thigh. “You slept well, beautiful?” he asks, not noticing the blush on your cheeks deepening.

What the hell? Why were his simple words causing such warmth to spread through your body? Why are you blushing so hard after a few kind words? His eyes meet yours, and your stomach tightens at the love in them. Fuck.

“Yeah, did you?” you ask shyly.

“Of course, you’ve always been amazing at cuddling,” he compliments you, and you subconsciously shift in your chair.

You manage a small smile in response to Chan’s gaze, the affection evident in his eyes almost too much to process so early in the morning. He chuckles softly, his hand squeezing your thigh reassuringly, a simple gesture that somehow speeds up your fluttering heart.

“Sorry,” he whispers, leaning in so that only you can hear, “I didn’t mean to make you blush this much.” His voice is a blend of amusement and tenderness, sending a shiver down your spine. You can't help but feel a little overwhelmed by how natural it all seems to him, this newfound closeness between you.

“It’s okay,” you assure him.

“Are you sure, pretty boy?” he asks and your lips part softly, eyes widening a little.

“Channie,” you whisper softly, shaking your head. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?” he asks, a knowing smirk lacing his features. “I’m just saying what I see.”

Your teeth bury into your lower lip as you feel the earlier shyness shift into something much stronger. Chan was getting you all worked up over nothing, and you’re not even done with breakfast yet.

“Give them a break,” Minho leans over suddenly, rolling his eyes playfully at Chan. “You’re getting them all worked up at the breakfast table; behave,” he says quietly enough only for the pair of you to hear.

Chan’s eyes widen, lips parting in a silent ‘oh’ as he picks up on the effect his words have on you. He leans closer to you, his breath tickling your neck. “Didn’t know you had a thing for praise.”

“Me neither, now shut up,” you plead softly, shifting in your seat and pulling at your shirt to cover your lap. Chan’s low chuckle sends shivers down your spine, and you flinch as his hand moves up your thigh. You gaze at him nervously, but Chan doesn’t even glance in your direction, talking to Seungmin opposite him. By now, you can’t get up to escape the possibility of getting caught because you’re slowly growing hard.

Your breath hitches as you try to focus on anything but the warmth of Chan's hand, your body reacting despite the semi-public setting. It's a thrilling yet terrifying mix of emotions, the fear of being noticed wrestling with the pleasure of Chan's subtle touches.

"Hey, you okay?" Seungmin's voice cuts through your haze, and you snap your attention back to him, nodding quickly, too quickly.

"Yeah, just... thought I saw something outside," you stammer, hoping your voice doesn't betray the flush of heat crawling up your neck. Chan smirks slightly, his fingers pausing as if he's aware of your struggle to stay composed.

The rest of the breakfast passes with a sort of hushed intensity, your mind whirling with Chan's teasing and the palpable connection that seems to have everyone subtly glancing your way every so often. You're grateful when the meal finally ends, and there’s an opportunity to escape the intensity of the kitchen.

Chan stands and stretches, his shirt lifting slightly to reveal a sliver of his abdomen. You have to force your gaze away, feeling the heat in your cheeks intensify. "Wanna go upstairs?" he asks, his voice low, meant only for your ears. You pull at the hem of your shirt, nodding shyly and biting your lower lip in anticipation. Chan giggles and pulls you into a tight hug, whispering to you as some of the boys are still here. “Didn’t know you’d be able to hide it so well,” he tells you, hand running down your back. “Think you deserved yourself a reward, pretty boy?”

“Please,” you whisper, burying your flushed face in his shoulder.

“If you’re good and keep quiet, I’ll help you out,” he whispers, and you tense in his arms, biting your lower lip hard.

Your body reacts with a shiver at the promise in his words, the idea alone enough to draw a deep, yearning ache from within you. You nod against his shoulder, unable to speak, your heart pounding fiercely in your chest.

Chan leads you quietly upstairs, his hand gripping yours with a reassuring firmness. You pass a couple of the guys lounging in the living area, completely oblivious to the charged atmosphere between you two. Once inside his room, Chan locks the door with a soft click, the sound echoing slightly in the stillness.

"Sit down," he directs gently, pointing to the edge of his bed. You obey, watching him with wide eyes as he kneels down in front of you. His hands rest on your knees, his touch light but sending waves of anticipation through your body.

"How quiet do you think you can be?" Chan asks, his voice low and teasing, his breath warm against your skin as he leans closer.

"I'll be quiet," you promise, your voice barely above a whisper, trembling with the effort of keeping your composure.

Chan smiles, that knowing, mischievous grin that always sets your heart racing. He slowly moves his hands up your thighs, his fingers brushing the fabric of your sweatpants tantalizingly slow. The touch is light, almost teasing, but it’s enough to make you gasp softly.

"Shh," he hushes, his lips brushing against your ear, sending another shiver down your spine. "Remember, you need to be quiet."

You nod, biting your lip hard to stifle any further sounds. Chan’s hands continue their exploration, now slipping under your shirt to trace the lines of your stomach up towards your chest. His touch is feather-light, yet every nerve in your body screams for more contact, more pressure.

Without warning, he presses down more firmly, his palm flat against your chest as he pushes you gently back onto the bed. You go willingly, your body already on fire from his touch, your breathing heavy but controlled as you try to keep your promise.

Chan climbs onto the bed, straddling one of your thighs as he leans over you, his face just inches from yours. “Still doing okay?” he asks, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

“More than okay,” you breathe out, the proximity of his body making it hard to think about anything but the feel of him against you.

Grinning, Chan shifts his weight, and you feel the firm pressure of his thigh between yours, exactly where you need him. He watches your face closely as he begins to rock gently, the friction sending sparks of pleasure coursing through you. Your hands find his hips, gripping him, guiding him into a rhythm that has you biting down on your lip to keep silent.

The room is filled with the soft sound of fabric moving against fabric and Chan's steady, controlled breathing. You keep your eyes locked on him, getting lost in the intensity of his gaze as he moves against you. Each motion is deliberate, calculated to drive you closer to the edge without tipping you over too soon.

Chan’s hands are on your hips now, his fingers pressing into your skin, his grip firm and possessive. He leans down to kiss you, slow and deep, his lips moving against yours in a dance that mirrors the movement of your bodies. You respond eagerly, the kiss muffled enough to keep your moans contained.

As the pressure builds, Chan’s movements become more urgent, his body pressing harder against yours. You feel a warmth spreading through you, a tingling sensation that starts deep within and radiates outwards. Your grip on him tightens, and Chan breaks the kiss to look at you, his eyes intense.

“Shit, Channie,” you whisper, almost feeling dizzy at the intensity of finally being this close to Chan.

“Shh, be a good boy, yeah?” he asks softly, biting back a moan himself as he rocks his hips.

“Close,” you manage to whisper, and he nods, his movements becoming even more focused. You arch into him, your mouth opening in a silent cry of release as waves of pleasure wash over you. Chan holds you through it, his body a steady presence as you tremble beneath him. Chan buries his face in your chest with a soft, punched-out sound as his body shivers, stumbling over the edge.

When you finally relax back onto the bed, Chan’s face is flushed with his own exertion, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. He kisses you softly, tenderly, a stark contrast to the urgency of moments before.

“Was that quiet enough for you?” you ask, a playful note in your voice despite your exhaustion.

“Perfect,” Chan confirms with a chuckle, his forehead resting against yours. “Absolutely perfect.” You both lie there for a moment, catching your breath, the only sound in the room now the quiet hum of the house around you. Then, with a gentle nudge, Chan encourages you to sit up. “Come on,” he says, his voice gentle. “Let’s clean up a bit, then we can go back down. They’ll wonder where we’ve vanished to.”

“Yeah, okay,” you giggle softly, smiling into the loving kiss he gives you before slipping out of bed. Yeah, you could get used to this and so much more.

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