#these were literally almost drawn on the same day but three years apart

[writeonwhiskey]

the skz house: ch 6 (18+)

a/n: happy new year, everyone! you guys made the end of 2023 so unbelievably positive for me with your comments, reblogs & likes. thank you sm!! 🩵 huge thank you to @cloverstayy for the below graphic! she's on insta & tiktok under the same name.

Summary: Welcome to Sigma Kappa Zeta, the most popular fraternity on campus. When you, down on your luck and looking for a place to live, see their ad for ‘IN-HOUSE STAY’. You're one of the four girls chosen and find that your duties for the rest of the school year will be cooking, cleaning, and pleasing your assigned house members: Hyunjin & Bang Chan.

[ read chapter five here ] [ skz house photo book ]

Chapter Six: Of Joy Rides and Hot Tubs

You don’t have class on Thursday so you’re free to wake up when you want. Chan is gone by the time you do, and it’s only 10:00am. He doesn’t have class until late afternoon so your thoughts immediately drift to where he may have gone so early. You would have liked to see him. You wonder, if after last night, he would have smiled at you or shown you any sign that things might be different moving forward. 

It’s a silly, fleeting thought. Having sex with him doesn’t change anything. Even though he granted your plea of treating you good, he still kept his boundaries firmly in place after your shower. You were curious if he would allow you to sleep in his bed, naively hopeful about it even as you finished putting on your pajamas. However, when he got situated under his sheets and bid you goodnight, he made it abundantly clear you were not welcome there. 

Down in the kitchen and still in your pajamas, you snack on a granola bar as some of the others prepare to leave for classes or wherever they’re going—Seungmin has his baseball bag slung over his shoulder and invites you to come watch him practice later. He’s still on your shit list, though, so you’re not overly thrilled about it…but it’s an option if you have nothing better to do.

The house falls quiet again when all the commotion has ceased and you make your way back up to the second floor, to Hyunjin’s room. 

His curtains are drawn, keeping most of the morning light at bay as he sleeps. You walk around to the side of the bed and consider waking him up, cocking your head to the side as you gaze down at him. Even with his blonde hair all over the place, he looks so peaceful and handsome and perfect. His plump lips are pouted in a way that makes him seem absolutely adorable. Sleeping Beauty, who?

Without second guessing it, you slide on the bed next to him.

He peeks open an eye at the movement and smiles lazily when he sees you, causing your heart to flutter. 

“Mmmm, she’s back,” he murmurs sleepily as he wraps his arms around you—one under your head and the other around your waist—and pulls you close, nestling his face in your hair. 

He throws his leg around yours, holding on to you as if you are his own personal body pillow. Your body relaxes in his embrace and you instantly let out a soft sigh. You are content enough to stay in this position with him all day. His steady breathing lets you know he’s drifted back to sleep so you try your best to be still and not disturb his slumber any further. 

Laying on your side, staring ahead at the sight of your empty bed, your mind starts to roam and reflect on the chaos you endured over the past week. Seven days ago you were literally sitting on a curb trying to figure out where you were going to live. And throwing yourself into the SKZ house was a well-timed distraction. You were together with your ex for almost three years, and hadn’t even given yourself time to fully process your break up. Maybe because you knew it was coming…your priorities were no longer aligned, and his eyes had started to wander, his attention and affection wavered. In hindsight, you should have been better prepared for it.

You did love him, though. So the pain of him telling you he thought it’d be best if you lived apart for a while (meaning you getting the fuck out of the apartment), is still brewing inside of you. The anger derived from that pain also makes it easier to cut off your feelings for him. But you hadn’t truly considered being with anyone besides him and now here you are…having fucked one man last night and now in bed with another this morning.

You’d experienced more sexually in three days than you had in the past three years. Dominance, submission, lust, need, desire. You were pushed out of your comfort zone and you liked it. But the most troubling thing for you to wrap your head around is the lack of compassion surrounding these new sexual exploits. You’ve never just fucked someone you weren’t in love with. So how do you detach the actions from the emotions that course through you every time you see Chan? 

You can’t deny that you’re attracted to him—that you like the way he teases you, the way he makes you yearn for his touch just by looking at you. Yet, you still don’t understand how you feel about him, or if you should bother feeling anything at all. 

Cuddled up to Hyunjin—whom you’ve essentially known the same amount of time as Chan, only further adds to your confusion. Clearly it could all be this simple but Chan seems hellbent on making sure you know he views you as an object, a tool at his disposal. Chan very much still feels like a stranger in all aspects outside of sex, whereas Hyunjin feels like someone you’ve known for a long time. Someone that gets you—that respects you. He’s the only thing of comfort you’ve been able to rely on amidst the raging emotions trying their best to consume you when you’re with Chan. 

Hyunjin doesn’t even know how much you need him to just exist right now, and he’d probably think you were crazy if you told him. You place your hand on his arm and bring it from your waist to your chest, he squeezes you closer to him in response, readjusting his body slightly. 

With him snuggled against you and these thoughts wreaking havoc on you mentally, the rise and fall of your chest quickens and before you can stop it, tears are streaming down your cheek as the weight of the past week hits you like a Sparta kick to the chest. You try to keep quiet, to wipe your tears before they fall to his arm, but there’s too many and your sniffling gives you away. 

Hyunjin stirs and lifts his head up, peeking over your shoulder. When he registers that you’re crying, he slowly blinks his eyes open to really look at you. His hand hugged to your chest moves to your face, turning it towards him. You try to resist, shaking your head, wanting to hide your face in the mattress. 

“Y/n,” he says softly, voice still groggy from sleep. 

He turns your entire body around so you’re facing him and cups your cheek, wiping your tears away with the pad of his thumb. His attempts are futile—each time he wipes, a new trail is formed. 

“Gwenchana?” he says, warm brown eyes searching yours. “You okay?”

You don’t know what he’s said, why he’s said it, or if he’s still half asleep and not realizing he’s speaking Korean but regardless, the gentle, caring concern in his tone fucking breaks you. 

A sob escapes from your lips as you squeeze your eyes shut and press your face to his chest. He holds you around the waist with one hand and the other strokes the back of your head.

Even with how good Chan made you feel last night—desired in a way you’d never imagined—you still slept in your bed alone, all the while wanting nothing more than to still be close to him after how much of yourself you’d given to him. To be in his arms the way Hyunjin is holding you now.  

You can’t hold it in any longer, and here in this room, you don’t feel like you have to. He just let’s you cry, face against his chest, hands pulling at his shirt. You feel safe here. You want to stay in his protective embrace.

You don’t know how long you spend sobbing against him, but he doesn’t let go of you the entire time. When the sobs and tears finally stop and you regain control of your breathing, he leans back to look at you. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You chew on your bottom lip and shake your head, unable to meet his gaze. 

“Not really,” you say, sniffling and wiping at your eyes. “It’s just been a lot—with the breakup and moving here and Chan and you.”

“Okay,” he replies with a simple nod. 

He holds on to you tightly and quickly moves you up and over him so you're now laying on the opposite side of the bed. 

“That side is for crying—this side is for happy y/n,” he declares.

You can’t help but laugh at his antics. You look down at his tear stained shirt and pull at the fabric.

“I’m sorry,” you say. “And sorry for waking you up like this.”

“Don’t be,” he assures you. And you believe him with ease. “You’re here for me as much as I’m here for you. In all ways.”

His words are sweet and honestly make you feel like you could start bawling all over again.

“What time is it?” You ask as a distraction, realizing you’ve left your phone in Chan’s room. 

“Who cares,” he shrugs.

“Don’t you have class?”

“Who cares,” he repeats. “Want to go do something?”

As much as you’d like to stay here in bed, in his arms, it would also feel nice to be anywhere but inside the house right now. 

“Sure,” you say after a moment. “As long as you’re back in time for class.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course, we will be,” he doesn’t sound too convincing this time. He gives you one final squeeze before sitting up. He grabs his phone from the nightstand and checks the time. “We have four hours.”

“What do you have in mind?” You ask, sitting up.

“Nothing at all—I don’t do plans, remember?” 

“You’re gonna make me feel a different kind of crazy these next three days,” you joke.

“You’ll learn to love it,” he winks.

You slide out of the bed and find an outfit for the day. You immediately start changing in the room without thinking about it, but Hyunjin hasn’t seen nearly as much of you as Chan has. You peek over your shoulder and see he’s still sitting in bed, watching you with a smile. He pretends he’s been caught, averting his gaze around the room.

“Stop it,” you say with a laugh, pulling your pants up.

“I’m an artist,” he replies, “I have to appreciate good views. Commit them to memory for my work, you know.”

“Well, this isn’t a live model class—get up and get dressed,” you tell him.

“Yes ma’am.”

You pull on your t-shirt, then tell him you’ll be back in a minute. You make your way upstairs, to Chan’s room. You’re not sure if he’s home so you knock lightly on the door. There’s no response. You enter and retrieve your phone, tucking it in your back pocket. You take a moment to makeup your bed since you have no intention of returning to this room at all for the next couple of days. You also grab your backpack and sling it over your shoulder before turning around to leave. 

You stop dead in your tracks when you see Chan, standing between the door frame, startling you. You put a hand to your chest to still your beating heart. How long had he been standing there?

When he takes in the sight of you, you catch a brief look of concern on his face—if you had blinked you would have missed it.

“I just came to get my things,” you say softly. 

As if you owe him any kind of explanation.

He remains silent as he enters the room, stopping just in front of you. He leans down a little, his eyes raking over your face carefully. It dawns on you then…how you must look. You can feel the tightness and puffiness of your eyes from crying earlier.

For a moment you think he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t. His lips are pressed together tightly as he gives a curt nod and steps to the side, allowing you to walk past. 

His silence feels worse than anything he could have said.

—————

“Have you ever driven one of these before?” Hyunjin asks, seated next to you in the passenger seat of the navy blue Tesla. 

You shake your head, still in shock he offered to let you drive. 

“Go easy on the pedal,” he says, buckling his seatbelt. 

You adjust the rearview mirror, groaning at the sight of your puffy eyes in the reflection. Even after gently washing your face and moisturizing, they still looked awful. 

Hyunjin opens the glove compartment, revealing several pairs of sunglasses. He shuffles them around, holds a few different pairs up to your face before deciding on one and handing it to you. He picks a pair for himself and puts them on as you do the same.

“Now we’re ready,” he looks over to you and you see his eyebrows wiggle above the frame of the sunglasses. 

You’re grinning widely as you reverse from the driveway, feeling happy and optimistic for once. Hyunjin controls the music as you drive, curating a soundtrack for your adventure. Neither of you have any idea where you’re going, which annoys the crap out of you. Hyunjin finds it amusing and starts telling you to take a left here or there. At one point he has you take four rights in a row, effectively sending you in a circle, or square rather. He claps his hands together, laughing as you swat at his arm and thigh in annoyance.

When the song “Broken” by We Are Fury & Luma comes through the speakers, you make him replay it a few times in a row—the two of you sing it together, “Give it away, like I always do. Watch you start to fade, one more heart to lose.” The lyrics hit you in special way today, but Hyunjin matches your energy as you both belt out the next part with your whole chest, “Got that sinking feeling like the bottom of the ocean, I’ve been here before, feeling every damn emotion.”

You drive and sing and talk. You’re almost able to forget about your sad, emotional outburst earlier. Almost. 

At one point you stop at a shopping center with a recently opened Halloween store to browse the costumes and pick up a few decorative items for the house. Well, it started as a few anyway. Hyunjin alternates between holding your hand and hugging you from behind as you walk through the aisles. He keeps you entertained with his clumsiness—screaming and knocking into displays when something scares him. Being with him makes you feel like a normal college student just hanging out with their crush—joking, laughing, flirting.

When you make a stop for lunch, you mention Seungmin inviting you to watch him practice and Hyunjin doesn’t mind the idea. You grab enough food for the three of you and head down to campus. You’ve never had a reason to venture to the baseball field before, but it’s quite large and empty aside from the players practicing. 

You and Hyunjin take a seat in the bleachers—Seungmin waves when he spots you two. You munch on fries and a burger as you watch them. Seungmin is far more serious on the mound than you’ve ever seen him. He looks like he simply belongs there, on the field and in his uniform, striking out a couple of team mates in a row. 

“Shit, I have to get to class,” Hyunjin announces, checking his phone. 

You hadn’t realized how much time had passed already. 

“Go,” you tell him with a nod. “I’ll catch a ride back with Seungmin or wait around for you.”

“You’ll wait for me?” He asks, batting his eyelashes at you. 

“Maybe,” you tease with a playful shrug. 

He stands up and starts to walk away from you before suddenly stopping. He turns back around to face you, leans down and places a kiss firmly on your lips. You’re startled at the sudden action, but you don’t shy away from it. You press your lips back against his.

It’s quick and sweet, but a wave of heat rushes through your body all the same. 

“See you later,” he says when he steps back.

You continue watching Seungmin for another half an hour until practice ends. He comes to meet you in the bleachers and you offer him the food you had ordered for him. 

You push your sunglasses down the bridge of your nose to look at him directly in the eyes, “It may or may not be poisoned.” 

“I have a strong immune system,” he retorts, tearing away at the wrapper of the burger and biting into it. “Did you like what you saw?”

“You’re okay,” you say nonchalantly, pushing your sunglasses back up. “When’s the first game?”

“In the spring. You gonna come watch?”

“Only if I can root for the other team,” you reply.

“That’s blasphemy.”

“Serves you right, pineapple boy.” 

He lets out a loud laugh at your remark. 

“Come on, it was a joke.”

“To you, maybe…Chan didn’t find it so amusing,” you tell him. 

“He actually does like pineapple,” he shrugs. 

“But not on pizza—you set me up.”

“I did,” he agrees. “It was funny.”

“Again…to you, maybe. And Changbin. I’ll get you back for that.”

“Oooh, I’m so scared,” he says, finishing off the last bite of his burger in record time. 

“You should be,” you tell him. “Sleep with your eyes open Kim Seungmin.”

“I always do.”

You roll your eyes. His sarcastic ass has a comeback for everything. 

You sit and talk on the bleachers a little while longer until Seungmin is ready to head back to the house. He walks you to the building where Hyunjin’s class is before taking off. You sit outside the building and wait, scrolling through your phone for a lack of anything better to do. When you look up and see Hyunjin finally walking out, he’s beaming when he spots you on the bench.

You stand to greet him, only just now realizing he went to class empty handed—no backpack, no notebook or pen, nothing. You could never imagine doing such a thing but for Hyunjin, it just seems fitting.

By the time you get back home, the house is abuzz per usual for this time of night. You and Hyunjin take in the decorations from the Halloween store and get to work putting some of them up with a few others as dinner is prepared. 

Everyone throws around ideas for the upcoming Halloween party, and it starts to sound more intense than you could have imagined. It seems like they plan to go all out with kegs, catering, costume contests and more. 

After dinner you lounge in the living room, seated around the coffee table with nearly everyone except Chan, Rhiannon, Changbin and Lee Know, playing Uno. Rhiannon and Changbin had excused themselves after making suggestive faces at each other the entire meal. The game causes a lot of commotion and outbursts but honestly it’s the most fun you’ve had in the house as a group yet. 

Felix claims to make the house rules, saying you can put a Draw 2 on a Draw 2, which is purely evil as he makes you Draw 12 cards at one point with a devilish grin on his face. 

By 8:30pm, Hyunjin is dragging you back upstairs to his room wanting to watch the next episode of the show you started Sunday, saying he’s been waiting forever to see what happens. 

You both climb into his bed, laptop in front of you and leaned together as you watch episode two. You’re at ease next to him. You readjust yourselves halfway through watching to get more comfortable, sitting with your backs against the pillows and the laptop resting on your left and his right thigh. He wraps an arm around you and you lean against him. You’re able to get in two episodes before calling it quits for the night. 

“You know I can sleep in my own bed if you don’t want me with you,” you say to him as you’re putting your dirty clothes in the laundry and make a note to do some washing over the weekend. 

“Why wouldn’t I?”

You shrug in response, as if you don’t know the reason you’re saying it involves the man on the next floor up. 

“In case you want your space or something.”

“No,” he replies cooly. “I get my space when you’re with Chan.”

He pulls back the bedsheets (specifically on the right, your happy side) and looks pointedly down at them then back up to you. You can’t stop the smile that creeps on to your face as you climb in bed next to him. 

“Fair warning I have to be up for an early class tomorrow.”

“Ew,” he says pulling you towards him and you can just picture the look of disgust he’s bearing. 

You turn around to face him, tucking your head in the crook of his neck. 

“Thank you for this morning,” you tell him.

“You’ll adjust,” he says. “But I know it’s hard.”

“Did you want to…” you ask, trailing off in the same way you did with Chan but you’re not nearly half as nervous. You can’t let yourself lose sight of the reason you’re in this house. 

“We don’t have to rush, okay?” he replies.

You nod.

“You are emotional right now,” he continues, “I can see that. I know this can be a lot to handle in the beginning so I won’t pile more on top of what you're already feeling.”

“I think I can handle it…” you speak up. 

“I want you to know you can handle it, y/n.”

You bite your bottom lip as you look at him. His words don’t feel like a rejection, they’re coming from a place that’s putting you first. He’s right. And you know it.

“Can I kiss you?” You ask timidly. 

He grabs on to you like he did this morning and pulls you up and over so you’re laying on top of him. You sit up, straddling his waist, and run your hands through his soft, blonde hair before leaning down and pressing your lips to his. You want to communicate just how much spending today with him meant to you. 

The kiss starts with slow, long presses of your lips together but soon evolves into more. You part your mouth, and he captures your bottom lip between his, sucking on it gently. His hands roam across your back as you kiss him again, snaking your tongue inside his mouth while your hips grind against him.

He turns his head to the side, letting out a breath as he breaks the kiss. You look down at him with uncertain eyes.

“Don’t think I don’t want you…because I do.” He moves his hips against you and you can feel his hardening cock press against you. “But let’s do this right.”

You realize how easily you could try to push it further, but he seems adamant about wanting you to be in a good headspace. Which, truthfully, makes you want him even more. As if he can heal the part of you that’s been wounded by fucking you. 

“We can still kiss though, right?”

He responds by cupping the back of your neck and bringing your lips to his again. 

The strict make out session has you feeling like a teenager again—hesitant to move to second base. He stills your hips and grunts each time you grind against him, causing you to giggle. The roles in this room are much different as you get to be the teaser for once.

—————

On Saturday it’s decided to make use of the pool and hot tub before the weather gets too cold. Changbin and Chan man the grill as everyone else is in the heated pool either swimming or lounging on the large floaties. You’re left feeling a little in awe, as you have never seen so much of all the members—the girls in their bathing suits and the guys in their swim trunks. They boys are all varying degrees of physical fitness—some have abs, some don’t, some have defined, muscular arms, some don’t. But the sight of each them makes you lick your lips and force yourself to look away. 

When you make your way out of the house, carrying a pan of meat to Chan and Changbin, you feel Chan’s eyes on you. He doesn’t try to hide it either, looking you over in your swimsuit. It’s modest, to some degree—a dark green bikini top with white and yellow flowers and matching shorts for the bottoms. His eyes dip to your cleavage, then back up to your eyes. At least you’re not the only one fighting these urges to keep your gaze up. You really wish you’d brought out a pair of sunglasses to hide your gawking.

He hasn’t said a word to you since that night. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging his look. You’re emboldened by the closeness you’ve felt with Hyunjin the last few days. You know that on Sunday, too, when it’s your day to choose—you’ll stay with Hyunjin again.

You push the thoughts of the Monday fast approaching with him aside as you get in the pool to join the others. Hyunjin holds his hand out to you as you descend the steps, pulling you to him once you’re in the water. You wrap your arms around his neck and legs around his waist as he carries you effortlessly through the water, towards the deep end. 

He stops against the side of the pool and you lean back to rest against it, hips thrust forward to his. Partially of your own doing, but also because of the water. He doesn’t seem to mind either way. He’s been rather receptive of your sly advances. You find it exciting, how both of you are able to tease each other knowing it’s building up to something more without any sort of timeline or demand. 

You grin up at him, letting your arms fall from around his neck down to his chest. You are assigned to him and feel free to stare and touch him as you please. You run your hands down past his lightly defined pectorals, over his nipples (which makes him giggle), then down to his abs. They may not be as toned as Chan’s, but they feel satisfying beneath your fingertips either way.

Hyunjin leans down to kiss you but before his lips meet yours, a wave of water hits you, soaking both of your heads. You both turn to find the culprit—Lee Know. He’s grinning as he flicks more water at you. You push away from Hyunjin and head towards him. 

Hyunjin grabs you by the waist, pulling you back. 

“Relax,” he says into your ear. “He can’t swim.”

“Good,” you mutter. “I can drown him easier.”

Hyunjin laughs at your remark. 

“And then what?” He asks. “You go to jail and you’re kept from me?”

You pout your lips and look up at him. 

“But if would feel so cathartic.”

“I agree with you. Everyone’s contemplated drowning Minho at some point,” he tells you. 

When the meat is cooked, everyone exits the pool to eat. Chan sits directly across from you and Hyunjin, leaning back in his chair, all nonchalant and unbothered. When you’re with Hyunjin, who’s treating you so well, you’re able to mostly keep your disturbing thoughts of Chan at bay. You wish you could say you hadn’t thought of him at all, hadn’t thought of what he’s doing up in his room when you aren’t there. Does he touch himself? Does he think of you when he does it?

“I call dibs on being the DJ,” Felix announces when the conversation turns to the Halloween party once again. 

“If you’re just putting together a playlist, you’re not a DJ,” Seungmin corrects him. 

“Don’t over do it with Halloween songs,” Jeongin speaks up, looking pointedly at Han. 

“You have to set the mood,” Han defends himself, cheeks stuffed with food. 

“No one wants to hear Thriller 10 times in one night,” Jeongin says.

“You don’t know that,” Han mumbles with a shrug. 

You ladies are put in charge of getting the virtual invites out, completing the decorations and organizing the catering and keg deliveries. 

You push your plate away from you and look at Chan. You notice he’s always so quiet when he’s with the group. For being the leader he doesn’t speak up that often. Maybe he’s content letting them squabble over the smaller details and getting the final say. 

After everyone is fed and has put the subject of the party to rest, Hyunjin takes your hand and leads you towards the hot tub where Changbin, Lee Know, Rhiannon, Allie and Seungmin are already inside. You sit next to Hyunjin and relax in the warmth, leaning your head against the outer rim with your eyes closed. There’s a jet at work on your back and the repeated pressure feels good. 

Chan and Felix enter the hot tub next. It’s not that big, but everyone moves over to make room. Hyunjin pulls you onto his lap and Chan sits right next to him. Jeongin and Charlotte show up next with shots for everyone. You toss yours back with a grimace—it makes you feel even hotter. 

You lean back against Hyunjin and fight the urge to look over at Chan. It shouldn’t feel so awkward. Directly across from you is a prime example. Charlotte is seated on Jeongin’s lap sideways, legs draped over Han and they’re all engaged in conversation with each other.

You chew on your lip and let out a low breath. Maybe you’re the one making it more awkward than it needs to be, letting your confusing feelings about Chan get in the way of something that should be easy. You’ve been living like he doesn’t exist the past couple of days—you can’t keep that up. You don’t want to be the one to ruin the vibe of the house.

You turn to face Chan as Hyunjin rests his arms on the rim of the hot tub, talking to Lee Know on his other side.

“Got any ideas for your costume?” You ask him. 

“Not yet…why? You wanna play dress up with me?” He arches an eyebrow and smiles. 

You’re caught off guard at his response—both the words and the disarming smile he bears. The bottle of alcohol is passed around again, saving you a response as you fill up your shot glass. 

Chan holds his glass out to you and you cheers him before taking the shot. 

“You seem better,” he says, placing his glass on the ground outside the hot tub. 

It’s the first time he’s acknowledged it. 

You feel a hand on your left thigh and tense up for a second. Hyunjin’s arms are still behind you. Chan’s lips are turned up at the side, watching you panic.

With the jets going you can’t see anything beneath the water, but you know it’s him. 

“Hyunjin has been great,” you tell him. 

“I know,” he replies with an understanding nod, meanwhile his hand has started sliding up and down your thigh. “I’m glad.”

You want to ask him how he knows and why would he be glad about it, but your conversation is interrupted.

“You guys talking about me over here?” Hyunjin leans over to his left side where you and Chan are. 

Chan grins and you feel like you’re about to be caught doing something you shouldn’t. His hand doesn’t stop caressing your thigh. 

“Only good things,” you reply, turning your head to look at him. 

Hyunjin places a quick peck on your cheek and returns to his conversation with Lee Know. 

You drop your gaze down to the water feeling happy, embarrassed and confused. 

Chan’s hand slides further up your thigh and moves between your legs. With his other hand above the water, he uses a finger to tilt your head back up so you’re looking at him. You don’t know what to say. 

“No?” He asks quietly. 

You nod your head slowly, spreading your legs just a little further apart.

How could he do this so quickly? He gave you a mere centimeter of attention and now you’re back right where he wants you. This physical touch, though, is the most he’s shown you in front of the others.

Changbin says something to Chan then, so he turns to speak to him but continues rubbing you over your swim shorts. Your hips move against his fingers. 

Hyunjin instinctively wraps one arm around your waist to keep you still as he had been doing the past couple of days. His hand bumps Chan’s in the process and he redirects his attention back to you two. 

Your pulse increases as you anticipate his reaction. 

He fucking chuckles.

With your hair up in a messy bun, Hyunjin has easy access to the back of your neck. He kisses it lightly as he holds you closer to him and Chan resumes his hand movements. Your eyes flutter shut as your brain is on the fritz, trying to process exactly what the fuck is happening right now. 

“It’s too hot in here,” Allie blurts out. 

To which everyone but you laughs. You’re goddamn right it’s hot in here, but for you it’s due to an entirely different reason. 

“I’m getting back in the pool,” she says and stands from the water. 

“I’ll come with you,” you say, taking her distraction as a saving grace to get you out the hot tub before these two men send you to a room with padded walls. 

You push Chan’s hand away and Hyunjin let’s go of you as you stand. 

Allie walks to the steps of the pool but you dive right in. The cold water against your skin shocks your senses, making you feel alert and awake, helping bring you down from whatever Hyunjin and Chan were trying to work you up to. 

You take your time, swimming to the opposite end of the pool before resurfacing. You let out a deep breath and wipe the water away from you face. You don’t know how to describe what you had just felt—both of them touching you at once. You’ve never felt that before…but holy fuck do you want to experience it to completion now. 

[ read chapter seven here ]

a/n: oh boy. how are we feeling? it was important for her to acknowledge all she's going through. but aren't we so happy she has hyunjin? the yin to chan's yang. 😁

tag list: @iflmho / @skzstaykatsy / @blackhairandbangs / @ayoitschannie / @idunnomanmynamewastaken / @charmer-c / @ihatemen55 / @channiesprincess / @channniesslefttt / @jiwoos-babygirl / @krayzieestay / @kayleefriedchicken / @sunnyhonie / @cotton-candycloudz / @lubsungie / @conwunder / @puckmaidens / @ashleighland /

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #skz fanfic #bangchan fanfic #stray kids #bang chan #bang chan imagines #hyunjin #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin #bangchan #skz smut #skz fluff #bangchan smut #bang chan smut #skz fan fiction #stray kids smut #bangchan x reader #bangchan x y/n #hyunjin x y/n

[skzdarlings]

part iv: bodyguard!felix x reader

masterlist.

PART I ; PART II ; PART III ; PART IV ; PART V ; PART VI ; PART VII ; PART VIII ; PART IX ; FINAL PART.

( READ ON AO3. )

Your father hires an inconspicuous bodyguard to accompany you at school and supervise you at home. What seems like an innocuous change in routine eventually spirals into a forbidden romance that grows more passionate over the years.

pairing: lee felix/reader content info: smut. violence. parental abuse. situations of intense peril overall. forced proximity. enemies2lovers. angst with eventual happy ending. (chapter word count; 10k words)

warning for this chapter: the usual story dynamics plus explicit sexual content.

-

“All right, gang,” Jisung says.  “Final year of school together, you know what that means?” 

You and Felix are on your way to class when Jisung literally throws himself between you.  He hands each of you a print-out before you can answer his question or even say hello. 

“The Three Musketeers,” Felix reads.  “Peas in a Pod, Rule of Three…?”

“This is our final year as a best friend trio in the hallowed halls of high school,” Jisung says.  “And next year?  Who knows what happens!  Marriages!  Mortgages!  Babies!”

“Jisung, we just turned eighteen,” you say. 

“Which is almost nineteen, which is almost twenty, then we’re practically forty.”  He waves a hand around.  “The point is, this is our last opportunity to solidify a name.  For us.  For the group.  It’s necessary.” 

“Is it though?” Felix asks, squinting as he skims the sheet.  “BLT?  Who’s the bacon?” 

“I am, obviously,” Jisung says. 

“Why is that obvious?” you ask. 

“How is it not obvious, Lettuce?”  Jisung says, scandalized.  “Anyway, we can workshop the names.  This is just to get the ball rolling.  I expect results by lunchtime tomorrow at the latest.”    

Jisung continues his endearing but admittedly inane blather, at least until Hyunjin comes sauntering up the hallway like it’s a catwalk, then he just frowns.  Jisung has never warmed to the popular pretty boy and Hyunjin does not seem particularly inclined to rectify any bad impressions.  He is astoundingly self-confident. 

People move out of his way.  Some girls downright swoon if he deigns to cast them even a fleeting glance.  You can’t really judge any of them seeing as you were the same when Lee Minho still roamed these halls.  You are not totally immune to Hyunjin either, though your attention is somewhat scattered these days. 

You look at Felix. 

He is re-reading the class schedule for this year, mumbling reminders under his breath.  His hair is a sunny yellow blonde and freshly trimmed to frame his face, thanks to your help.  He was cutting his own hair which made sense, not just logistically but stylistically, seeing as it was often a shaggy mess.  You have taken to helping him so it looks a little neater. 

You look at the fuzzier hair on his nape, recalling how your fingertips pressed there as you tipped his head for a better angle.  

Your eyes meet when he looks up, but you are drawn apart when Hyunjin claps him on the shoulder with a greeting.  They sat beside each other for most of their first year and formed something of a friendship – only something, because the plucky, likable Australian transfer student is a fabrication.   

You once told yourself you would never fall for the schoolboy routine, that you would always remember his real identity, but you never considered what might happen if you cared for the real him anyway. 

“Heeey Fee-lix,” Hyunjin says in an emphasized, overly friendly way.  He draws out your name with the same saccharine pleasantness, all while ignoring a scowling Jisung.  

Hyunjin leaves before anyone can reply, but Jisung still thumps Felix on the arm. 

“Traitor,” he says.   

“What?  He’s nice,” Felix says, exchanging an amused look with you. 

“You know, Jisungie, maybe you’d get along better if you stopped trying to trip him everywhere he goes,” you say, pointing to Jisung’s presently outstretched leg. 

Jisung stands straight.  “He tried to kill me,” he says. 

“Not this again,” you say.  “Jisung, he didn’t know about your peanut allergy—”

“He tried to put his nuts directly into my mouth,” Jisung says, then groans miserably.  “That came out wrong.”  He spins his cap to tug the brim over his eyes.  “Do not repeat that.  The last thing I need is freshmen writing fanfiction about us.” 

You and Felix pat his back in a consoling manner.   

Felix sits behind you in class, dutiful as ever.  You are unpacking your bag when Hyunjin walks in with his girlfriend of the week.   Rumours about Hyunjin are in never-ending circulation and he seems to help them along.  You have caught him in a quiet moment once or twice, curled up in the library alone or lingering after hours in the art room, but that quieter soul seems contradictory to his showman side.   Even now, he starts making out with his girlfriend in the middle of the classroom.  

You can’t help but stare, mostly because the brazenness is so audacious that it is impossible not to stare, but it also makes you think.  You have never kissed anyone, though you have entertained countless fantasies that spiral far beyond kissing, and while you know you are young in abstract way… staring at a happy couple your age makes you feel jealous, desirous, and a little ridiculous.  Eighteen, nineteen, twenty, forty… 

Felix clears his throat and you realize you have been staring too long.

Not only that, but Hyunjin is staring back, even with his mouth pressed against someone else.  It feels like flames erupt inside you.  You drop heavily into your seat and stare at your desk, swallowing hard.   When you chance a look, Hyunjin is leaning back in his own seat, smiling at you. 

Felix clears his throat again. 

“What?” you ask, sharp. 

“Nothing,” Felix says, casual. 

You roll your eyes.  He kicks your chair.  You turn around and knock his textbook off his desk. 

“That’s not nice,” he says. 

You stick your tongue out at him. 

As seniors, you are allowed to leave campus for lunch.  The three of you make your way to a nearby sandwich shop, one naturally packed with most of the senior grade level.  You crowd into a tiny booth, so cramped you are halfway sitting on Felix’s lap.  Your mood sours as you let yourself wallow in self-pity, thinking about how normal girls get to sit on normal boys’ laps and be excited about it. 

You are sulking into your sandwich, thinking about how you are going to die alone and miserable and unkissed, when a chair is suddenly drawn up to your table and Hyunjin sits beside you. 

Jisung’s mouth is stuffed full of ham, which you know because he drops his jaw despite all the food.

Hyunjin does not remark on it.  He smiles at you and you alone. 

“Hey,” he says.   He really is stupidly handsome.  Even up close, you see no awkward blemishes, not a hair out of place.  His uniform tie is a little askew from tugging but that’s it.  

Jisung kicks you under the table, probably because you are just staring blankly at Hyunjin. 

“Sorry, hi,” you finally say. 

His smiles widens.  He tucks a bit of hair behind his ear. 

“Hey, I won’t bug you and your friends,” Hyunjin says, ignoring when Jisung mumbles too late under his breath, “but I want to walk you back to school after lunch.  Alone.”

You are so unprepared for the suggestion that find yourself staring again.   He taps your chin to lift your head, still smiling. 

“Is that a yes?” he asks.

“Uh, sorry, yeah, yes!  Yeah, sure.  Okay.”  You aren’t even totally sure that is your answer, but it rolls out of you instinctively.  Just as instinctively do you whip a startled look to your best friend.  Jisung’s mouth is still hanging open.   “Umm…” you say, but Hyunjin is already standing. 

“Great,” he says.  “See you soon.” 

You watch him walk away.  Jisung speaks through the food in his mouth, chokes, swallows, then clears his throat. 

“What was that?” he finally says. 

“I have no idea,” you reply, completely honestly. 

You cannot compute this situation at all.  Your approach to most social interactions is to scowl.  Because of your father’s many stringent rules, you have never had an opportunity to be truly social.  You play an appropriate role at the functions he forces you to attend, but that entails sitting alone in a corner and sipping soda.  Growing up, you were not allowed to spend time at anyone’s house or go anywhere without supervision, so maintaining friendships was next to impossible. 

The only exception has ever been Han Jisung.  You sat beside each other in your first year and your miserable countenance coupled with his anxious demeanour meant that you spent six months not even talking to each other.  Then one day he mustered the nerve to comment on the weather, you replied accordingly, and somehow that opened a floodgate to unleash the goofy boy that would become your best and only friend. 

Your social experience is limited to that.  You are someone who sits with your best friend in a corner, staring at an unattainable pretty boy at a distance, but you have never had to grapple with the reality of one asking for your attention. 

You look at Felix, but he has drawn a somber mask over his face.  He pokes at his sandwich.  He can’t lecture you in front of Jisung but you know he has something to say.  A part of you wishes it was jealousy or any personal feeling, but you know it will only be a reminder about your father, that he wouldn’t approve of you running around with any unknown boys.  

When you leave the shop with Hyunjin, you already know Felix and Jisung will follow close behind.  Felix has no choice, but you are certain Jisung will require little convincing.  You pretend you do not see them trailing six feet back, partially obscuring themselves in the occasional bush, but Hyunjin naturally looks at them. 

“You’re not…” he says slowly.  “You’re not dating… one of them… are you?  They’re really—”

“They’re just my crazy friends,” you say in an embarrassed rush.  “Jisung is like my brother, ew, I could never – ew.  Ew.  Oh my god, ew.   And Felix—” 

You woke this morning with Felix’s face nuzzled in the back of your neck.  The distance in that big bed closed long ago now.  You only sleep apart when your father is home.  You also never talk about it, not that you could articulate your feelings anyway.  The intimacy and companionship provides more comfort to your soul than you could ever say.    

You swallow. 

“I’m not dating Felix,” you say.  “I’m not dating anyone.”  This thought prompts you to look at Hyunjin.   Rather ungracefully, you blurt the obvious question, “Don’t you have a girlfriend?  Why are you talking to me?”

He laughs into his palm.  You realize belatedly just how accusatory you sounded, especially considering his attention might be wholly platonic.  Embarrassed, you trip over your words, your tongue a suddenly clumsy thing.

Hyunjin just giggles.

“It’s okay,” he says.   “No one ever calls me out like that.  I like it.”  He bumps shoulders with you.  Wait, is he flirting?  You have no idea.  You stare at the ground with laser intensity.  He just giggles again.  “We broke up before lunch—”

“Wow, you moved on fast,” you say.  Dry remarks tumble out of you easier than anything else.  You bite your tongue, embarrassed again. 

Hyunjin still looks amused.   

“It wasn’t really serious,” he says.  “I’m looking for some with similar life experience, to be honest…”

You crinkle your brow and look at him.  His hands are in his pockets, his slouch casual, but you swear his eyes sparkle when he looks at you. 

“I saw you,” he says.  “At that horse race thing.  This last weekend?  You were in the box with your dad, right?  Felix was with you too.” 

The horse race was an end-of-summer event your father sponsored, one of his community philanthropic efforts.  You spent the whole time frowning under a sun hat, only smiling when Felix muttered something scalding about a particularly overdramatic hat in the crowd. 

A crowd Hyunjin was apparently in. 

You have always known Hyunjin comes from money, but there is money and there is money.  The Hwang family might be rich but your father is powerfully wealthy.  You run in different circles.  You have never seen Hyunjin at any event so you would never even think to look for him.   They must be moving up in the world. 

Your mouth opens but nothing comes out, not even a dry retort. 

“It’s okay,” Hyunjin says.  He touches your shoulder and your attention zeroes in there.  You can’t decide if you like him touching you.  An hour ago you were idly daydreaming about kisses and touches, but the reality is a different thing.   It took you a long time to warm to Felix, bit by bit, touch by touch.  Even those touches terrify you in their own way.  You are scared of needing them.  You do not know how you can simultaneously desire touch and fear it more than anything. 

Hyunjin uses a soothing tone, drawing your gaze away from his hand. 

“I get it,” Hyunjin says.  “You don’t want people to know you’re rich, right?  Honestly… I think that’s really cool of you.   My dad likes to show-off so I guess I kinda do the same.”  You glance at his brand-name leather satchel.  “Everything is about appearances to him.  It doesn’t even matter what’s true as long as everything looks the way he wants.  There’s an… image… for the family.  And I’m an only child so there’s expectations.  Maybe I’m not making sense.”

“No,” you say, your thoughts drifting to your own home life. “It makes sense.” 

“I thought maybe you and me could hang out—”

“I don’t really hang out a lot,” you interrupt.  You have been able to spend more time with Jisung now that Felix can accompany you, but it has been at cafes and other controlled locations.  You have not gone to any parties since your father beat Felix.  He has never hurt him as badly as that first incident, but he has struck him more than once.  You have not taken the risk. 

“Think about it at least,” Hyunjin says.  “Think about me.  I think we could be a good match—”

“You mean…”  It might be ungenerous, but you weigh his words and form a conclusion.  “If you date someone like me, it will get your father off your back?” 

He is quiet for a second, surprised, then he laughs again.  He finally drops his hand.  His next smile is a little lopsided but more genuine. 

“Maybe we could help each other,” he says. 

“I didn’t say I need any help,” you reply.  You cannot help the way you bristle, like a vulnerable animal rearing its defensive spikes.  “You don’t know me.”

“I know me,” he says.   “And I recognize… well.  Think about it.”  He looks behind you, his features scrunching with clear repugnance.  “I’m gonna go before your not-boyfriend pops a blood vessel.  Talk to you later?” 

You are still processing the whole exchange but you manage to nod.  He turns on a swift heel and struts ahead. 

You turn, expecting to find Jisung frothing at the mouth given Hyunjin’s departing words.   But it is Felix silently seething, Jisung just cringing beside him. 

Felix cracks his own neck, a couple sharp jerks, then he forces that empty smile onto his face.  

When you are settled in the car at the end of the day, you are not surprised his first words are, “You know I have to tell your father if you start seeing some guy, yeah?” 

“Some guy?” you say just as icily.  “You know his name.”

You have been on edge on all afternoon, discombobulated from the exchange with Hyunjin.  Felix has been unusually silent, so rigid and ungiving that he reminds you of that mysterious fourteen year old boy who barely did more than blink. 

But he is not that boy.  You are both growing.  You can feel the seconds passing you by, every aching minute that your life does not change from its stagnation, every moment of his own life that Felix has surrendered.

You want to jump out of the moving car.  You want to slide across the seat and bury your face in Felix’s neck, no matter that someone can see, and you want him to hug you back. 

You stay seated. 

“Do what you want,” you say with a sigh.  

He sighs too, resting his forehead against the car window. 

The house is empty tonight.   You can’t concentrate on homework so you shuffle down to the gym where Felix is practicing kicks.  You watch him, his nimble athleticism, the perfect arc of each high kick. 

One wall of the house gym is a mirror and your eyes meet in the reflection.  He holds your gaze for a moment, but then he goes back to counting under his breath, kicking again. 

“I thought you liked Hyunjin,” you say. 

He stops kicking.  His hands are taped up for boxing, so he diverts his attention there, slowly unweaving the tape while he catches his breath. 

“This has nothing to do with me,” he says.  “You know that, yeah, so I don’t know what—”  

“Don’t you want to date someone one day too?” 

He doesn’t look up.  He drops the tape on the floor and starts on the next hand. 

“No,” he finally says after a long pause. 

“No?” you repeat.  “You don’t want—”

“I can’t want anything,” he says with a mean bite.  “I have a job.  And responsibilities.”  The tape is too light to throw but he flicks it as hard as he can, shaking his head.  “Why are you asking me stupid questions?  You know how things are.” 

Yes, you do. 

You know what you feel when you look at Felix.  You have been friends with Jisung for years and his proximity has never induced the same feelings.  Bursts of heat find you at unexpected times, usually moments when your intimacy feels its most casual.   But you never have to think twice about why a crush on your bodyguard is a bad idea, because Felix always reminds you without saying anything.  When you get too close, his eyes go glassy with some remembrance and he swiftly pulls away.  

You know this does not stop him from thoughtlessly leaning into your touches.   He slants towards you with a certain kind of hunger, one you know is satisfied when you touch given how he sighs or relaxes.  Then, like someone so used to starvation that emptiness feels natural, he remembers himself and withdraws.  You wouldn’t care – or at least, you shouldn’t care – except it leaves you just as empty. 

You do not know the details of Felix’s past, but you do know that you carry a similar pain.  He recognized it at a glance, all those years ago, seeing past your bravado and calling out your fear.   We’re both scared, he said.

You see it now, in the tension across his shoulders, in the way he avoids your gaze.   The sharpness of his tone is a twin to your own. 

“Yeah,” you say.  “I know how things are.  You’re a pain in my ass and I hate you.” 

It is such an unconvincing lie that he finally lifts his head, meeting your gaze in the mirror.   You look at each other for a long moment. 

You wonder what someone brave would say or do.  Maybe you would tell him the truth and fuck the consequences.  Maybe you would kiss him like you were experienced, like you were anyone but an awkward little girl with clammy hands and shaking knees. 

You turn to leave.   He sighs and says, “Your father said yes.” 

You freeze. 

“He likes the idea of Hyunjin,” Felix continues.  “He thinks he’s… appropriate.”

You remember Hyunjin making out with someone in the middle of the classroom, and you remember how he was once expelled for fighting.  You laugh humourlessly, the sound punching out of you.  You slap a hand over your mouth to contain it.   You suddenly feel like crying and you don’t know why, except that your emotions are in constant flux.

“You mean he thinks he’s rich,” you say. 

“I mean… he doesn’t… think it,” Felix says dryly.  “Hyunjin is rich.” 

Felix can move quietly even in military grade tactical boots.  It should be easy in his gym shoes, but he walks heavily as he comes up behind you. 

“Why don’t you sound happy?” Felix asks. 

You turn around and meet his gaze directly.  Your stare is heated, rife with all your mixed-up emotions, but he does not flinch or look away. 

“You’re an idiot,” you say.  “I hate you.” 

You have never fooled him with that proclamation.  He draws his lips into a thin line, just staring back at you for a moment.  When you turn to leave, he grabs your arm.  Sparks ignite under his touch, shooting all the way up your arm, tickling your neck, raising each hair.   It feels so different from Hyunjin. 

You look at him and he lets go, flexing his hand at his side. 

“I, uh, I want to show you… something.”  He pushes some sweaty hair off his forehead.  His deep voice seems lower, the sound scratching at the base of your spine.  Tingles run all the way up to your head.  

“Show me?” you say.  “Show me what exactly?”

“Self-defence,” he says, brow furrowed, like his train of thought was obvious.  “If your dad lets you go out with some guy—”

“With Hyunjin,” you say, rolling your eyes.  “The dumb gangly gazelle you’ve watched lumber all over the field in gym class?” 

“You should still know how to protect yourself,” he says. 

“Isn’t that what you’re for?” 

“I am going to guess you might be alone with him once or twice,” Felix says dryly, “unless you want to keep me in the room then too.”

The suggestion makes you feel hot, flushed with embarrassment.  You duck your gaze to the floor. 

“You’re being silly,” you say.  “I haven’t even gone out with him yet.  And I’ve never even kissed someone.”  Felix must know that, but admitting it feels different. You look up, feeling floaty and detached from your body, like you are watching yourself look at Felix. 

He clears his throat and looks away, snapping you back. 

“Fine,” he says.  “We’ll practice another day.  But we will practice.” 

You know he means self-defence, but your brain supplies the image of kissing practice.  Your face must show that thought, maybe a sliver of panic in your gaze, because the tips of his ears turn suddenly pink.   He clears his throat again, shaking his head and turning away.   You leave quicker than you came, rushing all the way to the top floor to hide in your bedroom where you intend to mull over your day with maximum angst.

By nighttime, everything seems petty and stupid.  You are laying in bed on your phone when Felix gets back from his security check.  He says nothing, climbing into bed without even looking at you.  You just roll your eyes, done with the drama.  He looks over just in time for you to butt your head against his arm like a disgruntled baby goat.  His laugh is nothing more than a sharp exhale. 

It takes some coaxing, mostly in the form of whining, but Felix puts his arm around you.  Some of the shadows finally leave his face, a smile even daring to poke through. 

You fiddle with the neck of his t-shirt and he does the same with the ends of your hair. 

“Your father had an idea, by the way,” Felix says, “for a first date.” 

You groan, planting your face on his chest.  He laughs, a proper hearty sound.

“What, a picnic in the family dungeons?”  The sarcasm rolls off your tongue.  “Torture?  Flaying the guy alive? Chopping off his—” 

“Ouch.”

“I was gonna say limbs—”  You swat his chest. 

“Okay, okay, ouch, hey!”  He is still chuckling when you settle again.  He squeezes your arm. 

A moment of comfortable silence passes.  You resume your absent-minded fidgeting, twisting the loose material of his t-shirt around your knuckles.  You do not dare meet his eye when you ask, “I know what you said earlier but… if you could… what would you do for a first date?” 

His whole body goes stiff with tension, then he just exhales, a pitiful sound of resignation. 

“There’s no point in thinking about it,” Felix says.  “And I don’t know anyway.  What do people do on dates?” 

“Oh come on, you’ve been watching the dramas with me,” you say, keeping your voice light.  “You could have some ideas.” 

“Well, I don’t,” he says, not unkindly but firmly. 

“Fine,” you say.  You roll over so you are half on-top of him, a leg thrown over his.   You make a show of rolling your eyes, but his returned gaze is too soft for any real animosity to linger.   “For the record, I would plan an amazing first date if I didn’t have my dad – blegh – orchestrating the whole thing.”

“I believe you,” he says with a chuckle.  “I’m sure you would sweep Hyunjin off his feet, hmm?”

“Hmm,” you echo.  “Sure.”  You raise your head so you are peering down at him.  “I don’t even know what Hyunjin would like.  He’s pretty but he’s… I dunno… a liar or something.  Like he obviously just wants to date me because we’re both rich, but he wouldn’t admit it till I said it.  Who knows what other secrets he could be keeping.”

“Hwang Hyunjin,” Felix muses.  “Deep, dark secrets… maybe… hmm… his hair routine?”

You laugh before you can stop yourself.  “Don’t be mean,” you say. 

“Uhh, I’m never mean,” Felix says.  “You’re the one who called him a liar.” 

“Or something,” you argue playfully.  He says ahh, like that differentiation mattered at all.  “Maybe he collects teeth from all his dozens of girlfriends.  Or their hair.  Maybe he’s a cannibal.” 

Felix sighs with theatrical exasperation.  “From hair care to cannibalism, really?” he asks. 

“Could be,” you say, trying and failing to stifle your giggles, especially when it makes him laugh.  “He might gobble me all up on the first date.” 

“That would be very rude,” Felix says.  “He should wait until the third date at least.”

“Oh, is that what a gentleman like you would do?”  You laugh.   “Maybe provide a written invitation to the event?” 

“Of course,” he jokes.  “If I planned on eating you, you’d be the first to know.”   

The double-entendre is clearly unintentional, smothering the giggly playfulness with a sudden heady air.  You both hear the accidental suggestion, and you both stare at each other, and you both take too long to say something so it turns awkward.  You become very aware of all the places you are touching, so aware that you cannot compel yourself to move thanks to sudden nerves. 

Felix reliably comes to his senses first.   He nudges you gently, forcing himself to laugh as he slides out of the bed. 

“Umm, sorry,” he says.  He shoves a hand through his hair, the blonde fluffing with his rough touch. “I just need to… uh… bathroom?  I’ll be... um, back.”

You return to your side of the bed where you curl into a ball of appropriately eighteen-year-old angst.  Your current state of peril has nothing to do with power-corrupt businessmen and their fragile egos, and everything to do with a boy in your bed.   You shove your face in a pillow and keep it there until he returns.   You do not look at him, still too riled up in the silent tension.    

You are convinced you will never fall asleep but it inevitably sneaks up on you.  All at once, you are blinking awake in the morning light.   You drifted closer to Felix in your sleep but kept your hands to yourself.  You are both laying on your fronts, faces turned to each other.  He sleeps so lightly that he wakes from the faintest shift in the cadence of your breathing.   

The sleepy quiet of morning has none of the awkwardness of late night silence.  It feels hazy and gentle in its golden breath, held long enough for your hands to meet between you.  It is the only place you are touching, fingertip to palm to knuckle and back again.  Your whole head goes fuzzy with tingles when he traces the pad of your palm.   

You think about the many romance stories you have surreptitiously read on your laptop, flipping between smut and homework.   In all those stories, it seems that when the hapless leads find themselves sharing a bed, they manage to entangle themselves overnight, always suggestively, always accidentally. 

You do not appear to have that kind of luck, that accident of circumstance where you are not responsible for your own actions.  Instead you are laying in the sunlight, lit up so brightly that there could be no mistaking intention, his dark eyes catching the light as he looks at you as if he knows what you are thinking. 

It has to be deliberate.  Nothing will change on its own.  

Is this combination of terror and desire normal?  Is it simply a matter of age and inexperience?  Or is it in indication of damage, something inherently broken in you?   When your fingers interlock, it feels wonderful.  It also activates alarms in your head, none of them equipped with an off switch. 

You close your eyes.  He breathes and you know him so well that you recognize him by that, by the way he inhales sharply, like he has suddenly remembered where and who he is.  You know it means he is about to pull away. 

Sudden, sharp, panicked adrenaline propels you out of your timid repose and into his arms.   It is not so different from the millions of times he has held you, except this time you are frantic and strange, your heart beating wildly as you hide your face in his neck and cling to him like he will float away if you don’t hold tight enough. 

It surprises him.  He has the skill to deflect an attack but he lets you barrel into him, taking your weight with little more than an oof.   For a moment, he does nothing, his arms open at his sides.  You feel his shoulder twitch. 

He says your name in sleep-rough voice, barely more than a whisper.  A reminder, scolding you but half-heartedly.  You know what he sounds like when he is mad, when emotion slips through the cracks of his careful facades.   This emotion is not anger. 

“Felix,” is your reply. 

His next breath shudders out of him, sounding almost painful.  Then the arm beneath you shifts.  He touches your lower back tentatively, through your t-shirt yet hesitating like the contact might burn skin.  Another breath, then his palm is flat on your back and he is rolling onto his side to face you.  

Your heart is leaping around like it is being electrocuted, sparks of electricity zapping to every extremity as his other hand curls around your bicep.  His eyes are screwed shut and his mouth is open, nothing but another shaking breath passing his lips. 

You touch his face with trembling fingers, the very tips lightly brushing his temple.  You know, on some level, this is nothing deserving of alarm despite the cacophony still ringing in your head.  This is little more than an intimate embrace, fully-clothed and only barely touching each other. 

You are not even kissing.  With your adrenaline in the dregs, you cannot push yourself across that space.  Instead, you find yourself staring into his face when his eyes open.  You look at each other, forced to reckon with your proximity, looking at his mouth while he looks at yours.  There is no denying this could be a kiss, that it would require very little more than a lean.

His knuckles skim your side as his hand slips from your arm to your waist.  Your breath catches when he lays his hand on your hip, not moving or pushing but holding.     

Still such simple touches.  You wonder how other people can do more so easily when this alone is overwhelming.   

Your morning alarm is not due to ring for another twenty minutes.  There is nothing to disturb you.  You press your fingers into his shoulder.  This already has him tensing, then you scratch your nails along the nape of his neck, up into his hair, and it unravels him with a shiver, eyes closing and cheek pressing hard into his pillow. 

He wrenches away all at once, making a noise like it hurts to do so.   You feel dizzy as you stare at the indentation on his pillow while he swings his leg off the bed.  He doubles over, elbows on his knees, hands on his face.  He digs his fists into his eyes and scrubs hard.  He takes a minute to catch his breath.    

Eventually he stands.  He pauses like he intends to speak but then he just pivots into the bathroom.  The door shuts with a heavy click. 

You roll onto your back and stare at the ceiling.   You have no idea if he is coming right back, but you know this intimate moment has conclusively ended.  Your whole body is alight, the places he touched you still radiating sensation.  There is such a desperate pulsing between your legs that you can’t help but touch there, palm pressing hard to quell the incessant thrum of want. 

You really do not intend to do more.   You only just barely know the mechanics for touching yourself thanks to reading, but you are afforded little opportunity for discovery due to obvious reasons.   You do not know how fast he will return, but you doubt you have enough time to work it all out. 

You slide a hand under your clothes only to temper the worst of that wanting, applying pressure clumsily.   Your eyes close when you feel how ridiculously wet you are, far more than you have ever felt before.   Your mind then projects the unbidden image of Felix, wondering if he is on the other side of that bathroom door touching himself in a similar way.

It makes you gasp, turning your head, heel of your palm still pressing down hard inside your shorts.  You open your eyes just in time for Felix to step back into the room. 

He looks at you and completely freezes.  You have never felt more like a deer caught in the headlights. 

He turns and stumbles back into the bathroom, uncharacteristically clumsy.  You yank your hand out of your shorts and roll onto your front, shrieking into your pillows with a combination of frustration and embarrassment. 

What is my life, you ask yourself.   You really have no answer. 

-

The first date with Hyunjin is not a proper date at all.  Your father extends an invitation to Hyunjin and his parents, requesting their presence at another one of his good-press charity functions.  

This one is a silent auction and banquet in a luxurious hotel ballroom.  Despite the fact you attend the same school, you are formally introduced at the party, the whole charade making you feel like a ridiculous character in a historical drama.

You are already more than a little grumpy because Felix is not here, your father logically determining that his own security entourage was plenty for the night.  There is also the matter of Felix’s cover.  Hyunjin knows him as a student and your friend, not a bodyguard.  You will have to tell him eventually if this goes anywhere but—

That thought abruptly sends you on one of your overthinking spirals.  If your father intends to force this relationship along, you do not know if he will fire Felix rather than explain him, if one day you will suddenly go home and your bedroom will be empty, Felix gone without a trace and you with no way to contact him.   

Your throat strains with a choked back sob as you struggle to remember every little detail about Felix – the animes he claims he only watches because Jisung does, but that he definitely secretly enjoys, the horrified lemon-sour face he pulls when he accidentally drinks your coffee instead of his sugar-laden tea, the way he likes taking apart electronics and rebuilding them, his sharp mind, his goofy wit, his complete and total weirdness that he skillfully masks in public but drops at home.   That house could be full of people but if Felix was no longer there, it would feel horribly empty. 

“Are you okay?”  Hyunjin asks.  He looks resplendent in white, his dark hair a sharp contrast to his dress shirt and pants.  Other people are swooning at the sight of him.  You have not looked at him for longer than a few seconds at a time.  

“Sorry,” you say.  You take a swig of water like it’s hard liquor.  You try to smile but you can feel how crooked it is.  “Just… the parties are a lot.”  It is only a partial lie.  Your mind is somewhere else, but the parties are a lot to handle. 

Hyunjin smiles.  He props his chin in his hand and leans towards you.  “Good company makes them better, though,” he says. 

“Yeah.”  You look away again, staring out the window at the cityscape and thinking about Felix.  “It does, doesn’t it?” 

The ordeal is a success by your father’s standards.  You sit with Hyunjin all night.  You dance a few clumsy dances where you scuff his expensive dress shoes with your missteps.  You wander onto a balcony and he gives you his coat.  Beat for beat, moment by moment, it all goes perfectly. 

A moment that genuinely moves you is the only one your father does not care about.  Conversation between you and Hyunjin is stilted for a long while, then someone mentions one of the paintings up for auction and he lights up.  No one else acknowledges it, so you ask him about it.  You do not miss the warning look his father shoots him, but when you smile at Hyunjin like he is the most charming person alive, it placates him.

Hyunjin does not observe most of this.  Once you let him talk about the art, he cannot stop.  He becomes someone else when immersed in this subject, more animated, more open, much more sincere.  You could almost like this Hyunjin. 

You like him even more when he forgets his propriety and snorts at your derision for a few pompous assholes.  This party is crawling with creepy elites, only a few known to Hyunjin.  You catch him up on the latest high society nonsense, pointing out the affairs and scandals, as well as telling him which few individuals are somewhat more tolerable.

You are leaning against a wall, licking the icing off a cupcake, when he suddenly smiles at you, big and huge.  You choke on the sugar.  You feel hot under your skin, wondering if you were accidentally suggestive with your licking, but he doesn’t comment on that at all. 

“I’ve never known someone who sees people so well,” he says.  “Especially somewhere like this.  Everyone is a bit—”

“Off in their own world?” You share a giggle.  “I’m just bored,” you say, deflecting the compliment because Hyunjin doesn’t know what he’s talking about.  You do not see anything special in your observations, just your own loneliness as you sit back and watch the world go by. 

You don’t tell him that.   You distract him by pointing to another figure across the room, a well-dressed older man flanked by his own entourage.  You can separate the immensely wealthy from the nouveau riche by appearance.  The former are sleekly sophisticated at events like this, almost nonchalant in their presentation, whereas the latter overdress themselves to flaunt their wealth, as if they feel the need to prove they belong.  The former know where they belong. 

This man is undeniably the former. 

“You see that man over there?” you whisper, pointing discreetly with your cupcake.  “That’s Mister Miroh.   He is my father’s biggest competitor and most hated rival.  They are exactly the same person and trust me, that’s not a compliment.  They hate each other more than anything.”  You say this very casually then take a bite of your cupcake. 

“Huh?” Hyunjin’s brow furrows, making you laugh.  “If they hate each other, why was he invited?”

“Because rich people are insane,” you say.  “It’s just about keeping up appearances.  Yeah, they’re rivals, but that also makes them equals, so it’s bad form to neglect them in public company.”  Hyunjin nods here, clearly understanding.  You remember what he said about his own parents and appearances.  You must admit, it is nice talking to someone who understands you from his own first-hand experience.  “Also,” you say, “I’m sure it’s like that saying, keep your friends close and your enemies closer.  If Miroh is here, then he’s not off somewhere disrupting my father’s business while his back is turned.” 

“This is exhausting,” Hyunjin says, shaking his head. 

“No kidding.”  You laugh again.  When Hyunjin looks at you with a dimpled smile, you smile back.  It feels friendly, not like his forced flirtatious grins earlier in the evening.  You like this Hyunjin more.  “You want some cupcake?” you ask, holding up the very big, very rich dessert. 

Hyunjin eyes it then shakes his head.  He tucks some hair behind his ears. 

“I’m supposed to be on a diet,” he explains, laughing at your expression because you cannot hide your horror.  “It’s not a bad thing—” he starts. 

“You are so skinny, a hard wind could blow you out the window,” you say, shoving the cupcake at him.  “You said I was good at seeing people, well, I can see you want the cupcake.  So eat it or I’ll push you off the balcony.” 

He looks around to see if anyone is looking but his parents are occupied with their own conversations.   He looks at you conspiratorially then acquiesces, finishing the cupcake in just a couple big bites.   You applaud and he shakes his head, laughing and spitting little flakes of cupcake.  It makes you laugh more.  He is in good humour the whole time, even if it takes a second to swallow all that cake. 

“What else do you see?” he says when you are both settled.  He is relaxed from all the giggling. 

“What do you mean?” you ask, trying to keep a straight face as you remember the cannibalism conversation, supposing he might not want to hear that precisely.   

“When you look at me,” he says.  He tips his chin as if striking a pose.  “Tell me my fortune.”

“I’m not a psychic,” you say, nudging his shoulder, but nonetheless you oblige and strike your own pose, a finger on your chin as you consider him.  “Hmmm.”  You look him up and down, the showman smile, the little crumb of cake on his lip.  “I think you’re very smart and very handsome,” you start.

“I like it so far,” he says.

Smiling, you roll your eyes.  “And,” you say, “I think you know your strengths and how to use them to make people look at you.  Or at least – to look at what you want them to see.”  You watch his brow furrow, his hand disappearing into the length of his sleeve as his fingers curl up.  “I think you have more going on than anyone knows,” you say.  “And I think those parts of you might be the best, and I’m sorry that you have someone telling you it’s the part you have to hide.”  His gaze is cast low at nothing in particular.  It seems to scan the floor thoughtfully.   You laugh to brighten the mood.  “Parents,” you say.  “Image.  Expectation.  Whatever.” 

“Yeah.”  He smiles at you again.  It is not one of his fake, smarmy grins, but it is not his carefree smile either.  It is polite, and it doesn’t reach his eyes, darkly reflecting a familiar sadness back to you.   “Whatever,” he echoes.  Then he stands straight and offers his hand, his face once more shielded with a showy, flirtatious demeanour.  “Wanna dance?” 

You do, and it pleases the parents, and the night passes.  You and Hyunjin share an amiable glance before going your separate ways.

When you arrive home, Felix is sitting in the kitchen reading a book for school.  He is not obliged to do the readings but he seems to enjoy it, certainly more than you.   You never thought you would be so happy to see such a simple sight, Felix at the counter with a book.  Fortunately, you are a smart enough to mask your enthusiasm around your father.   

You don’t have to worry because your father pays you no mind.  With your purpose evidently served, your father dismisses you for the night and calls Felix to his office for a debriefing. 

You step inside your walk-in closet to change clothes.  You frown at your dress, once more thinking about all those romance stories.  If the dress had a zipper, you would need help, then you could ask Felix to unzip it, and it would be an excuse to initiate contact without you truly propositioning him.  But the dress slides off easily, so you put on shorts and a t-shirt, then you are sitting in bed scrolling on your phone. 

You are in a good mood as you usually are when you get back from a party, happy it is over.  The energy you stored to endure the socializing can now simmer to a pleasant hum.  You are also extra happy to see Felix after dreading his demise all night.  Those worries seem silly now.  You will always need a bodyguard and Felix is reliable. 

Then you feel terrible for thinking that, because you should want Felix to go.  He should not be here at all, trapped with you in this nightmare.  Then you start thinking about Felix and his past nightmares.  If Felix disappeared without a trace one day, it would not be to freedom.  It might be to something worse again.     

Even though you feel uneasy, gazing at his empty side of the bed, you fall asleep before Felix returns.  You wake in the darkness to Felix leaning over you.  He carefully extracts your phone to place it on the bedside table.  You fell asleep awkwardly slumped, clutching it. 

You are barely awake, still half-dreaming about him disappearing, about what worse nightmares might chase him from your arms.  You wrap yourself around him completely, arms around his middle, head on his chest, leg curled around his, the totality of your embrace surprising him.  He chuckles, a low sound that vibrates in his chest. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, settling as comfortably as he can with you twisted around him like an amorous vine. 

“Nothing,” you mumble into his shirt.  “Just missed you.”

“It was just one night,” he says. 

“Mmph,” is your sleepy rejoinder.  You reach for his hand and slap it onto your back, groaning.  He gets the message and strokes your back with a gentle sweep.  You start to doze again, snuggled and warm, then he clears his throat.  You recognize the sound as his warm-up to vocalizing something awkward. 

“I guess, uhhh, I guess things went well… with Hyunjin… tonight, yeah?” he says.  He clears his throat again.  “Your father gave me an itinerary for future dates and arrangements…” 

“I’m gonna blow this fucking house up,” you grumble.

He chuckles.  His touch is absent-minded now, a lazy caress as his attention strays. 

“Did he, uh, did he… kiss you?”  Felix asks.  His hand stops altogether, freezing low on your spine.  “Not that I—I’m just wondering.  Because of what you said before.  It’s, like, a big deal to girls I guess, right.  So I wasn’t sure—” 

“No, Felix,” you say, rolling your eyes.  “I’m still very unkissed and very pathetic, so don’t worry about my honour.” 

You lift your head to give him a withering stare, but his face is very close and he is already looking at you.  You have not spoken about the previous morning.  Every second comes rushing back when you meet his eye, when his gaze flickers down to your mouth for a brief but hypnotizing second. 

“You’re not pathetic,” he says, just above a whisper.  That ridiculous voice of his rumbles so low when he speaks this softly.  It’s like the sound is directly connected to something inside you, tugging when he speaks, waking up every sleeping nerve. 

“Sure,” you reply, at a loss for any other retort.  

His mouth is a perfect bow.  You look away from it, resorting to your natural expression: a glare, intensely and resolutely locked on his eyes. 

“Well, I’ve never kissed anyone,” Felix says, drole.  “Am I pathetic?” 

“That’s different,” you say, not meaning anything by it.  It’s an automatic response, meant to simply dismiss his very good point. 

But you feel him tense.  The silence feels heavy.  You belatedly realize how he might have interpreted that.  That’s different because you’re not a person like the rest of us.

You are trying to think of an appropriate apology when he gently moves you, shaking himself free of your embrace. 

“You should sleep over there tonight,” he says.  “Your father is home and I’m—  I’m.  I should be over here.  Anyway.” 

He turns over, putting his back to you.  Even though it feels like your whole head is on fire, you muster the resolve to slide closer.  Then you lean over and kiss his cheek. 

You flop onto your back and stare at the ceiling. 

“Sorry,” you say. 

You look at him but he hasn’t moved.  Your lips are tingling from that simple, stupid touch and you feel so ridiculous that you want to shriek.  You suffice to close your eyes, shaking your head like that will erase the last sixty seconds of your life.  You look at the ceiling again, face twisted up with pain. 

That falls away when Felix flips over.  He was so still and so quiet that it genuinely startles you.  You swear your heart stops when he leans over you with a determined expression, one you usually only see when he is working out hard.  Your stopped breath is a cluster in your throat, your voice tangled in it.  Your mouth is open and eyes wide when he cups the back of your neck and lifts your head. 

Your heart starts all over again, pumping so fast that you are scared it will leap right out of your chest. 

He leans down.  He kisses your forehead for one second, two, three.  You count it.  Your fingers curl up.  Your eyes feel huge.  You look at him when he pulls away, his expression morose.  He does not meet your gaze. 

“I’m sorry too,” he says. 

He lays your head on your pillow and rolls away, his back to you once more. 

You fall asleep on opposite sides of the huge bed, so close and so far.  Your sleep is fitful and uneasy and you keep waking to check if he is still there. 

It is very early when you fully wake, the pale blue of morning only just seeping into the gloaming.  It is a quiet hour but despite its gentle ambiance, you are woken with a fright.  You settle when you realize it is just Felix grabbing you.   He crossed the bed to gather you into his arms, mumbling an apology but nonetheless wrapping himself around you. 

You realize he had a nightmare.  He has not had one in a while.   Your back is to him so you reach around to pat him consolingly. 

You shiver when he exhales, his warm breath brushing the back of your neck, but you do not linger on the sensation.  The previous morning and all its stirrings are far from mind now.  He is upset so you comfort him, simple as that, letting him wrap his arms around your middle and rest his head against yours.  Your thighs sit neatly against his, bodies slotted together neatly,  like it is the most natural place to be.    

“Can you, uhh, just…”  He clears his throat.  “Can you talk… to me… please.” 

Felix does not like to talk about his nightmares but he does like a distraction.  You are the same.  There are times you wake in a fit and he speaks in a soft voice to lull you back to rest.  Your voice is not as unique as his, lacking the deep dulcet colour, but he seems to like listening anyway. 

You tell him about the party, all the frivolous details and gossip.  Two women wore the same dress, what a scandal, someone dropped a pearl earring, what a loss.   This couple broke up, that couple is having an affair.  Miroh was there and predictably austere the entire night—

Felix was beginning to relax but he tightens his grip when you mention Miroh. 

Your voice trails off. 

Your father has many enemies but Miroh is his only true rival.  You are not directly involved in any business but you pay attention to your father and his work.  You know about the political bribery and the underhanded dealings and the illegal trading.   You know Miroh is the same except he is also a military man, that he has dark connections and turns a profit on some very backward schemes.   Of course, your father depicts his rival as a worse villain than himself, so it is hard to say precisely what Miroh does, but you know the look of a bad man regardless.  

You have suspected for some time that Miroh played a part in Felix’s dark past.  You do not know what or how or why, as you have never pushed Felix to tell you, but you know Felix well.  Your father has many enemies and Felix is always alert, but Miroh receives extra vigilance.   Every trace of your companion will disappear before your eyes, replaced with an emotionless soldier.

You feel all that tension in his body now.  He is holding his breath. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” you ask in a small voice.  It is a vague admittance to your suppositions.

A little tension leaves his body with a humourless laugh, the breath bursting on your neck. 

“No,” he says.  “Not… not right now.” 

“Okay,” you reply.  There is a moment of silence.  Your heart is beating hard, his pounding as fast, his chest pressed against your back.  You shift in his lap. “What do you want then?”

That laugh again, a little more pained.  Then he sighs. 

“I don’t know,” he says in a rough voice.  “Just… distract me.” 

Just like that, the energy shifts, at least inside of you.  You know very well what would distract him, having witnessed the other morning just how to rattle your bodyguard.  The recollection alone has you flushed with heat, embarrassed and nervous and exhilarated all at the same time. 

It has always been hard for you to do the simple, normal thing.  You cannot smile for a long time, you cannot make pleasant small talk, you cannot kiss the boy you like.  But the difficult feats, the outlandish actions, those you have always done with ease.   You argue with your terrifying father, you break out of cages, you throw yourself into dangerous situations with little sense of self-preservation. 

You cannot turn and sweet-talk him.  You cannot lean over and kiss him.  You cannot smile and implore him. 

You can stare ahead through the pale light, warm with memory and fantasy alike, and slide your hand down between your legs.  With a little swivel of your hips, you press against his lap.  The effect is remarkably instantaneous, the adrenaline of his fears seemingly diverting course at the merest suggestion. 

He makes a choked noise, then his hand is overtop yours.  You always forget how strong he is, all that hidden power and dexterity.  He clutches your hand with ungiving control, down between your legs, over your shorts, preventing you from going further.

“That’s not what I meant,” he says, his stern voice as affecting as a touch.  It makes you whimper.   

His hips shift.  His baggy shorts do little for modesty and you can feel him twitch with interest, stiffening against your backside.  You try to move your hand but he pins your wrist and says your name warningly. 

“I won’t touch you,” you whisper.  “You don’t have to touch me.”

“Other people are home—”

“Then stop talking and be quiet,” you say.  It is always easier to be brazen when you are arguing or asserting a point, so when he releases your hand, you slide it into your shorts without a second thought.  It is only once you’re there that you realize you don’t really know what you’re doing.  Your belligerence only takes you so far. 

Then Felix breathes a surrendering sigh.  He squeezes your hips with trembling hands and rolls away, onto his back.  You spill onto your back too and look at him.  You feel vulnerable and uncertain until he closes his eyes and touches himself through his shorts.  The sight makes it easy to stir a reaction under your clumsy fingers, watching his hand cup and stroke the shape of himself through his shorts.  You slip the other hand down there too, spreading yourself to your own exploratory touch.  You press and rub and circle, your heartbeat thundering erratically when he opens his eyes and looks at you. 

Your lips part but you withhold all noise, breathing hard into the dark as his hand dips under his waistband.  His eyes are cast low to where your own hands move under your clothes, your fingers moving more frantically than his lazy stroking. 

When you finally find a place and pattern that feels right, your breathing gets heavier, a soft whine slipping into your exhale.   His reflexes are quick as ever.  His arm slips under your head and curls around your neck, hand covering your mouth to catch the surprised yelp that passes your lips.

“Shh,” he says.

And for some reason that takes you over the building crest.  Your body curls, tight as coil even while a white heat unravels inside you.  You gasp into his palm, eyes closing, swallowing down your own sounds.   

You are still twitching with aftershocks when you grab his hand with your very wet fingers.  You are not thinking about that, you are still hazy and powered by instinct, prying his hand off your face. 

But he realizes it.  He makes another choked-up sound and looks at the closed door, his breathing coming out hard through his nose.  He pulls his arm back, closes his eyes.  His hand, wet with you, just hovers for a second. 

You watch him.  His mouth is open and his eyes are closed and his hair is falling in a messy sweep around his handsome face.  You are slow in your approach, giving him time to open his eyes, to see your own hand near his face.  

He exhales sharply and his eyes close tight.  He grabs your hand and pulls it to his mouth, your own sex pulsing with renewed interest when he licks across your fingers then lets two curl into his mouth, just resting on his tongue.  He finishes a second later, shoulders hunching and face screwed up, freckles dancing like a dark constellation. 

You bring your shaking hand to your own lips, tentatively kissing the fingers he had in his mouth.  He blinks his eyes open slowly, gazing at the ceiling for a second then looking at you.   When he sees you, your lips pursed against your fingertips, his mouth opens and closes with some unspoken thought, desperate to vocalize.   In the end he swallows it down and closes his eyes.   He nods sharply. 

“Okay,” he says, his voice ragged.  “Thank you.  Sleep.  You should…  You should.  Um.  I’ll just—”

He shakes his head and rolls out of bed, then darts into the bathroom.  The shower starts.   You look at your clock and see you have more than an hour to your alarm. 

You lay your head on your pillow but you do not fall back asleep.   

#skz smut #stray kids smut #lee felix smut #lee felix x reader #felix x reader #skz x reader

[fartfather]

(Un)Welcome Problem pt.1

Kento Nanami x fem!reader

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

Word count: 3.1k

Series Summary: Kento Nanami finds his daily schedule disrupted when you start frequenting his favorite bakery. Initially annoyed, Kento begins to find himself increasingly drawn to you. Despite his constant attempts to blame you for his disrupted routine, he finds himself curious and anticipating every next encounter.

pt.1 Info: MDNI 18+ This part is sfw, but I cannot say the same about the next parts so please keep that in mind, strangers to lovers, I literally wrote the beginning of this in the shower so it may not be my best work asdlknfkjen

˚₊ · »-♡→ Also check out my other JJK work Audience of One pt.1

Kento Nanami thrived from his routines.

That’s why you were a problem.

It first started when you moved to Tokyo for work. You were offered a position in a big money law firm. The type of position that pays you so much you’d be a fool to turn it down. And that fool, you were not.

You had moved out to the big city to get away from your boring town and annoying family, and what a blessing it was that you were paid to do it.

On your first day of work, you woke up bright and early to make the commute to your new job. You made sure to also give yourself enough time to get something from that cute bakery you saw, that was down the street from your apartment. You had a feeling you were going to need the extra fuel to get through the day.

Once you were dressed in your professional attire, you fed your cat, and skipped out the door.

You took your time to take in your surroundings on your short walk to the bakery. It was early enough that the city wasn't awake yet. The sun had barely fully risen, and you loved how peaceful the walk was.

The smell of fresh bread and coffee instantly hit you when you opened the door. You looked around it in awe and nodded at the polite cashier who greeted you. The display case had all sorts of sweets, making your mouth water.

Looking up at the menu, you took your time perusing all the options they had. There wasn't anyone else in in the bakery, after all.

Did you want pumpkin bread or a blueberry muffin?

You were so wrapped up in your thoughts that you didn’t notice a customer entering the bakery. Not just any customer. Kento.

But, boy, did he notice you.

He stopped in his tracks and his eyes narrowed when he saw you standing at the counter.

What the fuck were you doing here?

His face quickly turned into a scowl as he got into line behind you.

He almost scoffed out loud.

Line.

In a bakery.

This early in the morning.

Over three years of coming to this bakery at the same time every day he had never once seen another person before him.

That was why he chose it. He knew that at this hour, most people were barely waking up. And even the people who were already dressed and out the door, wouldn’t turn to a little hole in the wall like this one.

But here you were.

Ruining his routine.

And, God, he hated it.

If that wasn’t bad enough, you were also being rude! There was a line behind you and you were taking your sweet time reading the menu. Well, maybe not a line, one person hardly constituted a line. But Kento couldn't care less.

He crossed his arms, and looked down his nose at you. His eyes bore holes in the back of your head as he looked back and forth from you and the cashier.

Never mind the fact that you didn’t realize Kento was there. You were too caught up in deciding whether you should get the pumpkin bread or a blueberry muffin, but you wanted to be adventurous.

What if you went with the chocolate croissant?

It wasn’t until Kento cleared his throat in annoyance when you snapped out of your thoughts and turned to look at him.

“Oh- I’m so sorry, you can go ahead of me. I’m not sure what I want yet.” You gave him an apologetic smile and gestured for him to take your spot.

Oh.

Kento raised an eyebrow at your words, taken aback by your kindness. He wasn't even sure what to say. It was his intention to intimidate you from further disturbing his routine. But now he felt like an idiot.

Because of course you weren’t screwing with his routine on purpose, but you were also a nice person. It also helped that your wide, innocent eyes instantly had his mind going blank. But he wouldn’t admit that.

You were a complete and total inconvenience, and you were throwing a wrench in his day. He wanted to paint you out to be the villain in his tragic tale, yet when he looked at your sweet face he just simply couldn’t.

The words came out of his mouth before he knew what he was saying, “It’s okay, I don’t mind waiting,” Lie.

You smiled, oblivious to his internal turmoil and he cursed himself. "Alright," You hummed.

You went back to studying the options, now trying to choose between the croissant or a muffin.

Kento didn't understand the indecision.

There were only a couple items on the menu and he always got the same thing. He was already aware of all the best options.

So he decided to intervene, hoping it would speed up your thought process. "The blueberry muffins are delicious."

The cashier nodded in agreement and you turned to look at Kento, eyes shining, "Really?"

He nodded and you turned back to the cashier. "Okay, I'll have a blueberry muffin and a plain medium coffee, please!"

You thanked them both and waited for your order.

Kento didn’t know what to do next. His whole plan was to scare you off, make sure you never interrupt his routine again, but you seemed nice. And you weren't exactly the worst person to be behind in line.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he moved up to the cashier and ordered his usual.

After your order was done, you grabbed yours and headed for the door. You waved to Kento before leaving.

He had a feeling that would be the first of many run-ins.

And he was right.

Every goddamn morning, to be exact.

For weeks, you would arrive just a few minutes before him. And the same thing would happen. He would wait behind you, and try not to be bothered by your presence.

He failed, obviously.

He was annoyed with you.

But now, his annoyance stemmed from a different source.

At first, it was the fact that you had disturbed his perfect routine. But now, it was because you were taking over his thoughts. He found himself almost looking forward to the morning encounters, and he was starting to feel a little possessive. Not in an obsession way, of course, more like in the way that he considered the bakery his.

You were his. Every morning, for only a few silent minutes. But those moments were his.

You had become a problem without even realizing it. Hell- he almost didn’t realize it.

But this all became very evident to Kento when one morning you weren't there before him. You weren't there at all.

Just when he was starting to accept you as a new addition in his routine.

You went ahead and fucked it up again.

Kento didn’t realize just how used to your presence he had gotten. He felt uneasy, and couldn’t seem to shake the feeling.

It felt like there was a pit in his stomach the entire day.

He couldn’t concentrate on anything, and Gojo had noticed.

Gojo had asked him what was wrong, and Kento couldn't bring himself to lie. He just shook his head and sighed.

Maybe it would help to get it off his chest.

He explained from the beginning. About his routine, the bakery, and you... and your stupidly cute face. Of course he didn’t voice that last part, but it did flash in his mind briefly.

Then he got to the events of this morning, your unexpected absence. Obsession Concern was evident in his voice as he listed the possibilities regarding the lack of your presence.

Maybe you had left town, or moved. Perhaps you were sick, or worse- dead!

He knew his concerns were unreasonable.

You could be doing any number of things, and there should be no reason for him to think about it this much.

Gojo was quiet as he listened to his friend explain his problems. He was quiet for so long, Kento thought he had fallen asleep.

Wouldn't be the first time he's done that.

He was just about to snap at Gojo, when the man finally spoke up. "You should just ask her."

Kento scoffed, "I don't have her number, nor do I know where she lives." rolling his eyes he continued, "Plus, why would I bother talking to her now? We keep to ourselves every morning, there's no reason to make conversation."

He mulled the thought of asking you tomorrow. But then he realized.

What if you weren't there tomorrow either?

No.

That wouldn't do.

He couldn't handle another day without you... because he got used to you being a part of his routine.

Yes. That was why.

The rest of the day dragged on. Kento couldn't concentrate on any of his work.

You had wormed your way into his brain, and you were biting away, inch by inch like he was a juicy red apple.

Kento Nanami did not pine. He was a busy man with a busy schedule.

He had no time to pine.

Especially not over someone as insignificant as a fellow customer he had started sharing his morning with.

Someone who he didn't even know their goddamn name!

Kento had gone home, ate his dinner, and got ready for bed. He did his nightly routine, and then proceeded to lay awake staring at the ceiling for a few hours.

His mind was plagued with thoughts of you.

There you go again! Ruining his routine.

He should have been asleep almost two hours ago. He had to be up in five.

He didn't understand why the thought of seeing you in the morning affected him so much. Or more so- the thought of not seeing you.

He just didn't like the uncertainty.

Kento was a man of order and control.

That's what it was... right?

He just didn't like the fact that you threw him off his routine, yet again.

You were an annoying thorn in his ass, and he was angry.

Kento was just an upset, tired man.

There was no way his emotions were rooted in anything other than the disruption of his routine.

The next morning rolled around and life moved on like usual. You woke up early, got dressed, fed your cat, and skipped out the door.

Kento was awake.

Kento was showered.

Kento was dressed.

Kento was in the kitchen eating his breakfast.

And then Kento was out the door.

When he walked into the small bakery his heart nearly stopped when he saw you there.

He was frozen.

He didn't know what to do.

He was just happy that you were here.

Happy?

No.

Relieved.

Yes, that was the word he was looking for.

And apparently he wasn't the only one curious about your absence, as when he walked in he overheard the cashier ask about yesterday’s whereabouts in a friendly tone.

See, his concern wasn't unwarranted.

"Oh, I had a small cold. But, I'm much better now!" You laughed, and the sound filled Kento's ears.

He felt warm.

He felt fuzzy.

Those feelings made him scowl and hoped that didn’t mean he was catching your cold.

He didn't stop to ponder deeper into these feelings, he simply continued forward to stand behind you.

And just like that, his routine had gone back to normal.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

A few days had passed, and you were there every morning like clockwork.

Kento's mood was significantly lighter and his work had improved.

Gojo had also noticed this.

Gojo was very observant.

Despite that silly blindfold he always wore.

Gojo was also an annoying piece of shit.

So of course, he had to pester Kento about it.

He had to know what had caused the sudden change in his friend's demeanor.

"Nanami!" Gojo whined, "I'm so bored, tell me something exciting!"

"There is nothing exciting to tell," Kento said flatly, "And, if I did, you'd never shut up about it."

"Come on! I'm just curious." Gojo huffed and flopped back onto his chair, crossing his arms like a child, "Did you ask your little crush where she was?"

"Crush?" Kento scoffed, "Don't be ridiculous, Satoru."

Gojo shrugged and leaned back in his chair. He knew to pick his battles with Kento.

He decided not to press the issue further, but he was determined to get it out of him eventually.

Glaring into Gojo, Kento got up from his seat and spun to exit. Not before turning over his shoulder and reprimanding the white haired imp, "I'm going to go help the first years with some training, and you're never going to bring this up again. Got it?"

Gojo gave a mock salute and smirked.

Kento was going to punch him.

He shook his head and turned on his heel, heading out the door. Training the first years was just the distraction he needed.

But, this distraction only lasted for so long.

When Kento arrived at his apartment later that evening, he was still thinking about you.

It was driving him mad.

He was a simple man.

A man with a routine.

And now that routine had been interrupted.

He hated you for it!

You had disrupted the delicate balance of his life, and it was driving him insane.

The fact that you had no idea that your very existence was a problem was the worst part.

Your ignorance was a constant annoyance.

But, he couldn't help but wonder if you ever thought about him throughout your day.

Probably not.

Why would you?

You barely knew each other.

Even after weeks of the same interactions every morning, you both had yet to speak. If they could even be called interactions. It was more so Kento ogling observing you from behind, taking note of the things you wore, and which outfits he thought looked best on you. In a strictly blasé- pass the time- way, of course.

All while you gave him the occasional glace when waiting for your order.

You never initiated conversation, and you never questioned his silence.

The most interaction you two had was when he told you to get the blueberry muffin that first time. And even that didn't count as conversation.

So no, you probably didn't think about him throughout your day.

But Kento thought about you.

You were slowly becoming the first thing he thought about when he woke up, and the last thing before he drifted off to sleep.

He would lay awake for sometimes hours at night, his mind wandering, wondering what you were doing, how your day was, why you chose his bakery? And most of all- who the hell were you?

This had become his new routine.

You had become his new routine.

And he hated it.

So, naturally, Kento had come to the conclusion that you were his problem- It was easier that way.

To paint you as the villain, and blame his sleepless nights and unproductive days all on you.

Even though deep down, he knew it not to be true.

Which is why it was confusing for him the next morning when you changed his routine, yet again- he wasn't mad. Instead he was amused.

Kento walked into the coffee shop same time as always, but was surprised to see you looking up at the menu, just like you had been that first day.

It was the same exact scenario.

You had decided to change things up after realizing that you've only ever gotten the blueberry muffin everyday- per the recommendation of the frequent stranger.

That attractive, blonde, intimidating stranger.

The stranger who stood behind you in line everyday, who was always wearing a suit.

The stranger whose voice was smooth, and made you just a little bit weak in the knees.

Okay, maybe more than a little bit.

So, there you were.

Standing at the counter, perusing the menu, once again.

Kento was pleasantly surprised. He was expecting another day of your usual blueberry muffin order.

Maybe it was time to step out of his comfort zone?

"Having trouble deciding again?" Kento's low voice came from behind.

You turned around and gave him a sheepish smile, "Yeah, I wanted to try something new today."

Kento hummed in response.

You turned back around, and Kento took a moment to check out take in today’s outfit. You were always dressed so professionally, what did you do for a living?

He was snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of your voice, "I don't suppose you'd be able to make another suggestion?" You looked over your shoulder, with a nervous smile.

Kento was taken aback. You were asking him for help?

He could have sworn the earth was about to implode.

This was yet another disturbance in his routine.

Kento had been standing behind you in the mornings for weeks now, and not once had you spoken to him.

Maybe this could be a second chance.

Maybe, if he got your name he’d be able to get some sleep at night.

That’s what it was.

He was just worked up over not being able to put a name to your face.

Once he had that information, his life would go on per usual.

"Well," Kento started, "I think the pumpkin bread is the best thing on the menu during this time of the year."

You smiled, thanking him and turned to the cashier who had overheard his suggestion, "I'll have that and a plain coffee, please."

The cashier nodded and went to make your order. You moved to the side to wait, and Kento was right behind you after he placed his order.

He wasn't sure if you'd start a conversation, or if he should.

But then, the barista called your order number, and his eyes widened.

Kento's face turned into a scowl. Fuck, he was blowing it again!

He had finally been given a chance, and now he had fucked it up. He didn't know your name, yet.

"Thank you again for the help," You said politely and picked up your coffee, "I'll see you tomorrow."

And with that, you left.

His heart stopped, and his stomach dropped when he watched you walk out the door.

What a stupid mistake.

He was a fool, and had just let his chance walk out the door.

Wait-

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

You told him you would see him tomorrow.

Tomorrow was his chance.

He wasn't sure if you had intended the remark as a promise, but Kento took it as such.

Now, he was determined. Determined to know your name. The name of his little problem.

A problem that, deep down, he was secretly beginning to welcome.

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #kento nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #nanami smut #nanami kento smut #nanami kento #nanami x y/n #nanami x you #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jjk nanami #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x you #kento nanami #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #nanami headcanons #kento x y/n #kento nanami smut #kento x you #kento x reader #jujutsu nanami #jjk imagines #fartfatherwrites

[archduchessofnowhere]

I once accompanied my parents [king Albert I and queen Elisabeth of the Belgians] to Saint-Germain-en-Laye where the peace treaty between the allied powers and Austria was being drawn up (September 10, 1919). I can still see, in the great room of the castle, the table with the green carpet, from which were born, alas! more thorns than roses.

The same day, we paid a visit to my maternal great-aunt Marie, widow of Francesco II of Bourbon-Sicily, last king of Naples. Aged eighty-years-old, she lived in exile in a modest apartment where horse engravings displaced family portraits. Some Neapolitan servants remained faithful to her. I can't forget this almost spectoral vision, a true resurgence of the past: great, straight, extremely thin, dressed all in black, her waist tightened by a leather belt: from it escaped a tight skirt that barely covered her button boots. But what struck me the most, was the haughty carriage of her little head crowned with a double graying braid and her periwinkle blue eyes, which literally devoured her face. When in the course of the conversation, this questioning and heartbreaking look fell on you, it made you wonder from what catastrophe the world was going to perish…

My frather spoke in German with the queen of Naples. She shook her head in sign of indignation while evoking, among other things, “the awful Treaty of Trianon which, through the stupid dismemberment of Hungary, dispossessed three million Magyars”. She spoke with a handkerchief over her mouth, no doubt out of coquetry, to hide her bad teeth… imitating her sister, the empress of Austria. The interview was interrupted by heavy silences, reminiscent of the distressing atmosphere of certain Russian novels. Finally, we took leave of this strange sovereign. At the moment of our parting, Marie asked if it was true that I was engaged to the heir to the Italian throne? Before the hesitation of my mother, she added that she would disapprove of her great-niece's union with a Savoy. It is very obvious that the one who was still called the “heroine of Gaeta” could only condemn such a union.

Let us remember the heroic gesture of the wife of the king of Naples, sharing the dangers of her soldiers to save the city, the final bastion of her kingdom besieged by the troops of Vittorio-Emanuele II. The first king of Italian unity represented, in the eyes of Marie-Sophie, nothing but a vulgar usurper.

Marie-José of Belgium (1971). Albert et Elisabeth de Belgique, Mes Parents

[Pictured, left: Princess Marie José of Belgium, circa 1910s. Right: Queen Marie Sophie of the Two Sicilies, circa 1870. Via Flickr and the Royal Collection Trust]

#finally i found this book and could read this anecdote in marie josé's words! #marie was a professional hater lol #queen marie josé of italy #queen marie sophie of the two sicilies #albert i of the belgians #queen elisabeth of the belgians #albert et elisabeth de belgique mes parents

[kameliabronx]

Orodreth’s  sons

According to the drafts, Orodreth had two more sons: the younger Orodlin and the elder either Halmir or Haldir (they are mentioned in different, but I conclude that they are the same character). This is a collection of headcanons that I have appeared in the last three days.

I think that when Orodreth had three children, he and his wife went crazy, because Finduilas is a typical Third house in appearance and disposition and most of all looks like uncle Finrod, Halmir is more and more drawn to Noldo and his mother from Sindar, and Orodlin is the most calm and soft, something from the Arafinve and Artaresto breed. 

Halmir could be a potential heir and warlord, and Orodlin was an adviser. headcanon: what the youngest was able to survive, because there is zero information about him except for his name. 

Halmir bonked Orodlin with a shovel - hysterics for half an hour and from both sides. because the drama queen is a family thing for Finwions. Halmir looks like his dad, everyone thought he would grow up the same, but by the age of 20 he had already overtaken his father by half a head and shoulders too. And Orod the dark-haired sun went to his mother, thin as a pine tree. Halmir was fighting with the feanorings, he had heard enough from Uncle Angarato that the First House should be driven with a filthy broom. Halmir almost left with Finrod, he had a big fight with his father. Orodlin then went to reconcile them. Halmir literally I don't respect Beren! Feanorians, and fuck you clap, I don't respect you either! they are like the sound from the Russian tiktok I'm a darling, I'm an angel, that's what everyone calls me - Orodlin Rails, sleepers, bricks, a stream of urine is flying at you - Finduilas I killed 18 people quickly and without regret - Halmir ✨if something happens to my father, then you will be responsible for it✨ Orodlin the snake he has rings with poisons. oh my God Finduilas was pulling apart the little Haldir and Orodlin by their ears.

She wanted to go for a walk with Gwindor, and mom and dad say: well, take the little ones with you fuck if Halmir died here in these 5-8 years that the feanorings lived in Nargothrond, then they could put pressure on Orodreth with this and because of this he was silent when Beren came and Celegorm and Curufin were the first to find Halmir's body when they went hunting ☠️

#silmarillion #orodlin #orodreth #halmir #haldir #finduilas #arafinweans

[silmaspens]

Tolkien Secret Santa Advent Calendar Day 6: Singing

The prompt was singing so I decided to redraw this old doodle of Mags singing Mae and the Twins to sleep :)

#really excited to participate in a fandom event this year :) #I’m usually out of the loop and I don’t know about them till after they’ve happened :/ #like I missed out on the reverse summer bang cause I’m a big ol dipshit #oh well #but anyway #this was a lot of fun #it’s cool to do a style comparison #these were literally almost drawn on the same day but three years apart #v weird #Maglor #Maedhros #Mae and Mags #my art #silmart #tolkien #silmarillion #feanorians #elrond and elros #tss2021advent6

[simplyotometrash]

MC turns into MSheep!

Inspired by the lil anime announcement we got because I love MC still being represented by a lil sheepie~!

As usual, this is gender-neutral reader!MC

It was a total accident. You were just working on your potion project with Solomon. He was helping you with the math of it, mostly, since it was pretty complicated. You had no idea where things went wrong. There was a puff of pink smoke when you added the last ingredient and suddenly Solomon was a giant! Well, actually you were turned into a small pink sheep...

Lucifer:

He didn’t know what to say when Solomon brought you home.

You were a sheep. A tiny sheep. And very pink.

His beloved was a sheep.

Lucifer.exe has stopped responding.

Honestly, give this old man a few moments to take in the shock and let things settle.

Then he’s going to threaten Solomon because who else would have turned you into a fucking sheep?

A tiny voice sounded from the sheep. It sounded like you, only smaller.

“It was my fault. I think. Solomon didn’t even touch my potion ingredients.”

Well, that doesn’t change anything. Solomon had best change you back or else.

And those words shot pure ice through your veins. You knew when your Lucifer got pissed off, his threats were not to be taken lightly.

For the time being, however, you had to live as a sheep.

Lucifer didn’t hesitate to just carry you everywhere. What if you got lost? Or Beel tried to eat you? Or Belphie thought you were a pillow? Or Mammon tried to sell you?

There were too many variables and this old demon just wanted some peace of mind.

So you went literally everywhere with him. You two still talked as normal. You even slept in his room still. 

You promised yourself to help him relax once you were human again. You knew your situation caused a lot of unneeded stress on the poor man.

It took three whole days before Solomon was able to change you back.

But when you were human again you didn’t expect Lucifer to hug you so tightly or give you such a firm kiss. He had missed his human being, well, a human far more than he cared to admit.

But you better make good on helping him relax. I think there’s some grey in his hair now.

Mammon:

Haha, good joke, Solomon! Now, where was his human? Really, where were they hiding?

He was so sure it was a prank and you were taking pictures from the bushes or something.

When you voice sounded from the small sheep Mammon nearly fainted.

What the fuck did Solomon do to his human?! The Great Mammon’s human was a sheep!

You explained your situation and Mammon only grew more jittery.

He was grinding his teeth. He didn’t hesitate, though, to snatch you away from Solomon and hold you like you were the most sacred thing in the whole of Devildom.

“Ya better turn them back! I can make money at the casinos so name the price!”

Oh he was serious. Mammon was willing to pay good Grimm just to turn you back.

And Solomon, after cruel teasing with pricing your return to human at over a million Grimm, said he would do it for free. After all, there was no telling if this would wear off or if it needed to be reversed.

So he would do it. It was a good chance to study your potion recipe and figure out how you fucked up.

Mammon, like his older brother, took you literally everywhere with him. But by everywhere I do mean everywhere. Lucifer at least had the decency to leave you out when he went to the bathroom. Mammon did not.

He was also making sure to keep you away from Asmo, who had fallen for your pink and fluffy form on sight. 

Mammon talked to you like you were still human. He treated like his human.

But he also acted like you would break at any second. He had never been so careful in his life.

He honestly cried on the third day, worried you might be stuck as a sheep. He didn’t know what to do.

Of course, you were turned back by that evening. Solomon had dropped by to check in and the potion naturally wore off.

Mammon hugged you so tight you felt like you were being suffocated.

But he was back to normal the second Solomon joked that he wanted to get paid for his efforts.

Levi:

Once Solomon was able to get into his bedroom, Levi just about fainted at the sight of you.

He wasn’t even skeptical about this.

It was just like the anime “Help I’ve Accidentally Been Turned Into a Sheep and Now I’m Stuck!”. Literally, just like the anime! 

You needn’t worry about anyone trying anything with you while Solomon worked to turn you back, it wasn’t like you would be leaving Levi’s room very much.

You were in his lap almost 24/7 save for when you needed food or to go to the bathroom. Or he needed to do the same. 

His room was a fortress so you were pretty much safe. 

You couldn’t remember the last time you got to spend quite that much time with your otaku. He could be difficult at times, especially when he was playing a game.

You actually relished the time spent as a sheep because of it.

Levi was not-so-secretly getting more and more anxious though. 

He saw the anime! He made you watch it with him in one sitting, too! What if this turned out just like the anime and you never turned back into a human?

The main character in the anime was a sheep for an entire YEAR!

If he had a soul it would have left his body at the very thought.

By the end of the third day you could tell he was totally falling apart.

His partner was a sheep. Probably forever.

With a poof of pink smoke you were human again.

And Levi unconscious because, for some reason, you turned human and had no clothes on.

You just put on some of his clothes for the time being and called Solomon.

You caught a glimpse in the mirror as you were on the phone and told him to keep working on that reversal potion.

You still had sheep fluff for hair, horns, and sheep ears...

Satan:

If looks could kill then Solomon would have been dead where he stood.

The sin of wrath was so pissed off that there was an evil, menacing aura radiating from him.

And it was directed solely at Solomon.

“I don’t even want you working on a way to turn them back. You might be a great sorcerer but I’m going to do this myself.”

He snatched you away and slammed the door in the sorcerer’s face.

No one tried to bother him as he stormed back to his room. 

“I promise I’m going to turn you back, MC.”

He poured over his books and had you give him the potion you had been making. You had to tell every single detail you could remember of what happened leading up to your transformation.

But he didn’t only focus on turning you back.

He couldn’t neglect you being in the room with him. You still brought out the calm within him and made him feel at ease.

When you insisted he take breaks, he would make some tea and give you a straw so you didn’t get tea in your wool.

Like he usually did, he read to you when you wanted to go to sleep. It was even more relaxing holding a warm ball of fluff.

But he barely slept.

He had to figure out a way to turn his favorite person back to normal.

You were still you, no doubt about that, but he missed you being a person. Someone he could kiss and hold hands with. Someone he didn’t have to worry about accidentally crushing or losing because you were so small.

He finally figured it out. He studied your potion recipe for hours on end until he figured out what went wrong. You had been given a recipe that had been “mislabeled”.

Knowing that made it a cinch to turn you back within the hour.

Now to murder the dodgy sorcerer who gave you the recipe for class to begin with.

Asmo:

“Whaaaaaat? MC? A sheep? Oh, darling, you are so cute! And so soft!!”

He canonically loves cute things (did you read the Devilgram story about him taking care of bunnies?) so he was having the time of his life.

And then it hit him as soon as Solomon laughed.

He couldn’t go out on dates with you. He couldn’t kiss you. Or see your stunning face. Your voice wasn’t the same. 

Solomon promised to do what he could to fix this, but it could take a few days.

Did he spend the next hour crying and hugging your fluffy body? Yes, yes he did.

You got him calmed down, reassuring him that it was temporary and there were some perks. He would totally get lots of attention on Devilgram if he posted your pictures! You were pink, his favorite color! You had lots of soft wool he could brush and he could paint your tiny sheep hooves!

That perked him right up.

He spent the next several hours styling your wool, somehow managing to put braids in it. He gave you cute decorative pieces to wear in your wool, painted your hooves to match his nails, and even gave you a little bowtie!

And boy did his Devilgram blow up with attention at the sight of your pictures.

You even inspired his newest clothing designs! Clothing for pets! Devildom didn’t have a cute variety of pet clothes, and while you weren’t a pet, you were very inspiring to look at.

Even pets deserved to look beautiful!

You were so soft to snuggle with but nighttime really made him miss you. Even in an innocent way, he missed skin-to-skin cuddling. It was always so reassuring.

But he didn’t have that.

He managed to get through the days that went by before Solomon finally turned you back.

And he was beginning to wonder if Solomon had drawn out your time as a sheep on purpose.

That didn’t matter, though. Not when he had to take you out on a date!

Beel:

Solomon was holding something soft and fluffy. Was it food? Cotton candy? It looked really sweet and tasty.

“Beel, no, it’s me!”

“MC...?”

He wasn’t happy once the situation was explained. But he didn’t show it. To be fair, he wasn’t the most outwardly expressive of his emotions unless it was necessary.

With Solomon’s promise to return you to normal, he just carried you back to the kitchen with him.

But he wasn’t hungry anymore. Not when his dear human was in a new and unusual form.

It caused him to go into a bit of a crisis, though.

What did sheep eat? What could YOU eat? You were a human in a sheep’s body after all. Did you have to eat what sheep ate or could you still eat your favorite things?

He sat there, staring at the cupboards and fridge, with the most worried look on his face.

To be fair, you weren’t sure either.

And you two stayed liked that until Satan said you could still eat whatever you liked, though it would be best to avoid meat unless it was basically shredded. 

Then came Beel’s next huge crisis: he was terrified of crushing you!

You were so tiny and delicate now, even more fragile than when you were a human.

It took a little convincing but Beel took to carrying you literally everywhere you wanted to go. He loved how soft you were.

Though you didn’t like how often he drooled on you because your fluff looked too tasty. You promised to get him cotton candy once you were a human again, which kind of helped the situation.

Beel even made sure to make everything you ate easy on you! He didn’t want anything to be hurtful to your little sheep body or hard for you to eat!

He didn’t hesitate to help you drink the reversal potion once Solomon got it made, holding his breath until he saw you in your proper state again.

He could breathe easy again. 

Belphie:

What was Solomon carrying? A new pillow or something?

It looked so soft and like it would be a perfect napping pillow.

He wasn’t even listening to anything Solomon had to say, the explanation going in one ear and out the other.

He was focused on going inside to use the new pillow.

Until he heard you talking to him after Solomon had given up on explaining anything.

Now he was mildly concerned. You weren’t you anymore. You were a sheep. He actually listened as you told him your story, unlike with Solomon, and he merely shrugged.

“Well, what can you do? You’ll be normal again eventually.”

You knew your grumpy demon, though. He was worried about you. But Belphie was never good at showing his worry for others unless it was drastic.

True to form, he passed out once he laid down again. You were held against him as if you might disappear while he slept.

It was all the more proof he was worried about your situation.

He still slept most of the time, he was like a cat in that he slept for hours without moving. You had to wiggle free to do anything. No one wanted to wake up to a sheep smelling like piss and you didn’t want a bath.

Belphie whined that taking care of you as a sheep was too much work, but the moment anyone tried to take you from him he immediately got defensive. He even threatened to break Mammon’s hands.

The only one he trusted with you was Beel.

Always sleeping holding your little sheep self did make him realize he wanted a stuffed animal version of you just like that.

It was so nice to snuggle with.

But he missed the normal you. He wanted to have you to lay on or go “star” gazing with. He wanted to do things with you again that weren’t quite possible with you as a sheep.

So he may have gone to find Solomon and threaten him if he didn’t turn you back quicker.

It was all for naught, as he came home to find you curled up in his bed in your human form once again.

He’d wake you up later. For now, he wanted to take another nap with you.

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me beel #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor #obey me fluff #waylonwrites

[here4theheartbreak]

Afternoon Naps (myg + pjm)

AO3 Link Here!

Relationships: Jimin x Yoongi Genre: smut Rating: Explicit Word Count: ~5.5k

Tags: Smut, Consensual Somnophilia, Vampires, Dirty Talk, Multiple Orgasms, Coming Untouched, Established Relationship, Vampire Sex, Vampire Biting/Blood Drinking, Sleeping Medication, Consensual Necrophilia (Technically), Temporary Character Death, Vampire Min Yoongi, Human Park Jimin, Bottom Park Jimin

Summary: Jimin finds out his boyfriend's biggest secret, and reveals his own biggest kink. They realize that this can benefit both of them.

A/N: Fifth Kinktober fic, day 7: somnophlia; this fic is also filling a request from ages ago. @sujigguk requested a fic with “you’re not human”

A/N 2: The fic contains technically necrophilia -- vampire lore in this fic has the vampire "dying" (i.e. heart/breathing stops, body goes cold, rigor mortis sets in) while resting in their coffins. All sexual acts are discussed and consented to by both parties prior to this.

“Jimin!” Yoongi’s voice was sharp… And not all that happy when he opened the door of his apartment. Jimin smiled sheepishly. 

“Surprise?” He said softly. 

“What are you doing here?”

Yoongi looked tense as he stood in the doorway. From what Jimin could see over his shoulder, his blinds were drawn, and his apartment was still mostly dark. Strange, given it was nearly ten in the morning.

“Did I wake you?”

Yoongi hesitated. “No.”

Jimin’s smile faded a little. “I wanted to come by… It’s been a week.”

“We’ve been texting.” 

Jimin’s smile disappeared completely. “I disturbed you. I’m sorry.” He backed up, ready to head down the hall.

“Wait, no, Jimin. Don’t go. You just surprised me, I’m not used to visitors coming by unexpectedly.”

Jimin looked at him, trying to gauge if he was being sincere. Jimin and Yoongi had been dating for nearly six months. It was great. Yoongi was always there for him, their dates were fun, and they never ran out of things to talk about. The sex was mind blowing. Sure, they fought a little, but never a big thing. The one oddity in all their time together… Was that Jimin was never invited to sleep over at Yoongi’s. Yoongi had stayed at Jimin’s a few times, and Jimin had come over once or twice, but never for more than a few minutes. 

The last time they were together in person, Jimin had hinted at wanting to stay over at Yoongi’s one night. Yoongi had seemed okay with the idea, but also a bit stiff about it. 

“I should have texted,” Jimin finally said.

“Yes,” Yoongi agreed. “But… You’re here, I can spare a few minutes.” He sighed heavily and stepped aside, letting Jimin in. 

“Dark,” Jimin commented as he entered. “Are you feeling okay? You look a little pale.” He reached out for Yoongi’s head, only to have Yoongi jerk away.

“I’m fine.”

Jimin scowled then, crossing his arms. “What’s wrong with you?”

Yoongi blinked at him. 

“You’re acting weird. I’ve been with you half a year, I know when you’re not yourself. What’s wrong?”

“It…” Yoongi’s shoulders sagged. “It’s very hard to explain.”

“Well try. I don’t appreciate being kept in the dark. Literally or figuratively.” Jimin went to flip on a light. 

Yoongi grabbed his wrist. His hand was frigid, and his grip was tight. Jimin gasped. 

“Don’t.” Yoongi’s voice was sharp.

“Wh… What’s going on? You’re kinda starting to scare me.”

“I don’t mean to.” Yoongi let go of Jimin’s wrist.

“Why are you so cold?” Jimin went forward. Yoongi backed away but Jimin ignored him, grabbing his face. “Jesus, you’re freezing. Are you sick?”

“Not exactly,” Yoongi mumbled.

“Why won’t you look at me?”

“Jimin, please…” Yoongi leaned into his touch, his eyes screwed shut. “Please just go home… I promise, I’ll explain everything tonight.”

“No. You can explain right now, Min Yoongi.” Jimin crossed his arms and stood in front of the door, facing Yoongi. 

“It’s not easy,” Yoongi muttered. Jimin remained silent. He sighed. “Fine. I… I really wanted us to last.”

Jimin narrowed his eyes, not liking how this was sounding. Yoongi stuffed his hands into his pockets. 

“I’m a monster.”

“What makes you a monster?” Jimin pressed.

“Fangs? Death? Drinking blood?” Yoongi shrugged. “Any number of things. I mean a literal monster.”

Jimin laughed, shaking his head. “Oh, come on, don’t be silly. Yoongi, what is it really?” He asked. He flicked on the light. Yoongi winced visibly, raising his hand to shield from the indoor light.

Jimin’s entire body went cold. Yoongi was standing in front of him. His Yoongi – lean muscle and a sweet, round face, gentle eyes and guitar callused fingers… But not his Yoongi at the same time. The person in front of him was paler than Yoongi – his face almost grey it was so pale. His eyes were dark. Not just dark, but the pupils seemed to have expanded, filling the whites of his eyes and giving him a demonic gaze. 

Yoongi let his hand fall, his expression timid despite the horror his features implied. 

“You’re not human,” Jimin whispered.

“I’m a monster,” Yoongi agreed. “A vampire… Specifically.” He looked down. “Are you going to run away screaming now?”

“Make me, you troll,” Jimin grumbled. He let his arms fall and took a cautious step forward. 

“I’m a vampire, not a troll.”

Jimin grinned at that, seeing the curve of a smile on Yoongi’s lips. “I’ll get it right eventually… Am I in danger? Standing here like this?”

“No. I have excellent control over my feeding… Why aren’t you scared?” Yoongi looked up, meeting Jimin’s gaze.

“I am.”

“You aren’t showing it… Aside from a fast heartbeat… I can’t see any fear on your pretty face. And your heart beats fast around me all the time.”

Jimin smiled. “Flirting isn’t gonna get you out of the doghouse… Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“You’re right.” Yoongi snapped his fingers. “I always forget. When is the right date to tell your new boyfriend you died and came back as a bloodsucking creature of the night? That once a week you have to spend a day in a coffin literally dead or you get wildly sick? Isn’t it the third? Or no, the seventh?”

Jimin slapped Yoongi’s shoulder with some force, smirking when he cried out, rubbing it. “Weak for a vampire.”

“I’m immortal, not immune to my boyfriend’s abuse,” Yoongi grumbled.

“Do you drink blood?”

“Of course I do.”

“Human?”

“When I can.”

“From live people?”

“Is that jealousy I hear in your tone, Mr. Park?”

Jimin glared. “You lied to me for six months, I’m allowed to interrogate you.”

Yoongi smiled softly. “I’m frankly just… In amazement that you’re still standing here. And no… Not live humans, not for a very long time. You may proceed with the interrogation – but I insist on us moving out of my hallway and to an actual sitting location.” He pointed to the couch.

“Do you have anything to drink? If I open your fridge… Will I find bags of blood?”

Yoongi made a noise of offense and crossed his arms. “Of course not, I’m not some barbarian. You’ll find a recyclable bottle of that’s filled with blood. But my sodas are in the door.”

Jimin went over to the fridge and opened it. Sure enough, there were three large water bottles filled with a very suspicious reddish liquid. He grabbed a soda from the door and went over to the couch, sitting next to Yoongi.

“How old are you? I’m guessing that twenty-seven was a lie.”

“I was twenty-seven when I died. Thirty-one years ago.”

“Oooh, I bagged myself a silver fox, huh?”

Yoongi huffed once more. “I died at twenty-seven.”

“Mhm… And now you’re fifty-eight.” 

“Jimin, I’m gonna…” 

Jimin giggled. “I guess I shouldn’t tease you… You might bite me… Would you?”

“Bite you? Not unless you asked.”

“Would it turn me into a vampire?”

“No. There’s a very specific ritual for that.”

Jimin nodded. “Cool. So, what does a vampire do? Aside from drinking blood… What’s special about you? I’ve seen you in the day. You complain a whole lot, but you don’t sparkle or ignite like a firework. We’ve taken plenty of pictures together… And you eat way too much garlic. You also sleep at night, and probably too long… And you aren’t any stronger than I am.”

“You’re making me feel real great here, Jimin,” Yoongi joked, smiling as he spoke.

Jimin laughed. “Sorry—I just mean… You seem human. I’ve never… Really assumed anything was off about you.”

“The great thing about humans, is that you all really like to assume everyone is like you. You avoid the things that support the opposite. Inhuman behavior, to some degree, so long as it’s not shocking or jarring, you can brush off as an odd quirk, a funny trait. I’m close to human, yes, but I am not human. I complain in the sun because my skin is sensitive. Bursting into flames is a myth, but I do burn far easier than most humans. My skin’s melanin has decayed over the years without cellular growth.”

“Which is why you’re so pale too.”

Yoongi grunted an affirmative. “Garlic is a myth, as is the no reflection thing. I’m sure hundreds of years ago, maybe? There might have been some truth to it, but modern technology and modern mirrors work different, so I can see myself the same as you. I am stronger than you, but I do well at hiding it most of the time. Any displays of it, you either don’t see, or brush aside. I do also sleep at night, yes – because I’ve put myself on a human schedule. I do this so I can live among you all without problems. Once a week though, I must sleep during the day. Sleeping at night is akin to a human living on a series of short naps at mid-afternoon. It’s not fully restful and it’s dangerous to do long term. I compensate by sleeping through the day one day per week, in the appropriate resting place.”

“R… Resting place?”

“My coffin.”

Jimin’s eyes bulged. “Coffin?”

“Yes, I am dead. I have a coffin.”

“That you sleep in?”

“Once a week. Otherwise, I sleep in the bed.” 

Jimin nodded, his brows furrowed. 

“Gonna run yet?” Yoongi asked.

“No… Is there anything else different?”

“Well… We’re excellent in bed,” Yoongi joked. Jimin glanced up. “I mean it. We have a… Special thing about us. You’ve had sex with other men before me, right?”

“Yeah, a few.”

“Haven’t you ever noticed that when we have sex… I’m much—”

“Harder.”

Yoongi nodded. 

Jimin pouted. “I assumed it was because I just really turned you on. It’s because you’re a vampire?”

“Well, no, you really do turn me on... A lot. But a few days after I do my daytime sleep, I get naturally more rigid. I’m not sure why – I think it has something do with… Ah, well it’s gross. But it just happens.”

Jimin sat back, sighing softly. “You’re immortal.”

“Yes.”

“Honestly… I think that’s the thing that bothers me most about this. Not that you’re undead or drink blood or… But that you’re gonna never grow old. And I’m…”

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi whispered.

“If we work out…” Jimin began. “And stay together… You’ll turn me, right? You’d have to – for us to… Be together.”

“Not necessarily. While I wouldn’t hate the idea of someone’s company in my life… I know that a limited existence is so valued and important. It’s something that I would be willing to discuss… If we work out, and when you are older.”

Jimin nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Yoongi pressed. “That’s it?”

Jimin shrugged. “We all have secrets, Yoongi.”

“I doubt you have a secret as big as this, Jimin.”

“No… But I have one that… People have left for.”

Yoongi seemed to perk up a little at that, his brows furrowed. Despite the difference in his eyes, the sleek black, Jimin found his expression endearing and sweet. 

“I like your eyes like this… Can you change them at will?” He asked.

“No. They’re like this because I’ve not fed for a while. I have to keep myself fed and rested or they shift; they’ll be back to normal after I wake up and drink… What secret could you have that’s so big, Jimin?” 

“Well… I…” Jimin winced. “God, it’s weird as hell, I’m so sorry.”

“I won’t run,” Yoongi promised. “You’re sitting here next to me after finding out I’m a living dead monster. The least I can do is listen to your secret and try to understand.”

Jimin smiled softly at that. He nodded. “I like… Sleep sex.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like I like the idea of… Having sex with someone while they sleep or are unconscious. With their consent! I mean… I’d never… Do something nonconsensual.”

Yoongi remained silent a moment, thinking. “Do you want someone to have sex with you while you sleep? Or do you want to have sex with someone while they sleep?”

“Both, I guess. I like the idea of both. I’ve never done it. Most people stop talking to me after I tell them.”

“Why would they?” Yoongi pressed. “We all have kinks and fantasies.”

“Yeah, but a lot of them see it as a form of rape. And I get it, it’s a super grey area. You can’t change your mind while you’re asleep, so like… If you say it’s okay, and then as you drift off to sleep decide you don’t want it… Then it becomes nonconsent.”

Yoongi nodded in understanding. “Well I think that can be resolved just by open communication,” he said, touching his hand to his chin in thought. “If you trust your partner and they trust you, you two should be able to communicate what is and isn’t okay. I don’t think a kink like this is unsafe or unhealthy, as long as – like you said – it’s done with full consent.”

Jimin smiled cautiously, his heart skipping a beat. “You mean… You don’t find it gross?”

“Not at all.” Yoongi smiled. “I’m glad you shared it with me. I still don’t think it’s worse than me being a blood sucking monster… But I know it’s a secret you hold close, so I appreciate your trust. But… Would you want to try this with me someday?”

“Would I ever?” Jimin asked. He chuckled a little. “I fantasize about it a lot.” 

Yoongi smirked. He moved little closer, pulling Jimin to him. “Would you want to try it today?” He asked softly.

Jimin’s eyes widened. Yoongi continued. “Look… When I sleep… In my coffin. I’ll be honest with you. I don’t breathe. I don’t move. I am… For all intents and purposes… Dead. I don’t decay, obviously. But my body goes very cold, my lungs and heart go still… And my body stiffens, as a corpse would. That includes… My dick.”

Jimin remained quiet, processing what Yoongi was suggesting. Yoongi slid his hands over Jimin’s shoulders slowly as he spoke. “So, if someone… Say my very curious, very human boyfriend… Happened to get horny while I was sleeping in my coffin… He could climb in and use my body… Ride me… And I’d remain fully unconscious no matter what.”

“Because you’re dead…” Jimin clarified. 

Yoongi nodded. “Temporarily. I wouldn’t wake for anything, unless you shined sunlight on my body. So… If you want to do this…”

“Would you fuck me when you wake?” Jimin said quickly. “If I was sleeping, would you… Return the favor?”

“I wake in the late afternoon usually. You’d likely still be up.”

“Not if I took a sleeping pill,” Jimin suggested. “I have some, I used to get nightmares and they help. I don’t use them often, but I bring them just in case. I could take one after… And you could… Help get rid of your afternoon wood with my body.”

Yoongi shifted visibly on the couch. His tongue darted out, swiping over his lips. Jimin smirked. He leaned forward, sliding his hands up Yoongi’s thighs. “Does that idea sound good? You like it.”

Yoongi nodded. “I do,” he breathed. 

“We can do it today?”

“Yes but… Jimin… You understand what I mean. When I lay in my coffin… You will be looking at the equivalent of a corpse.”

“I understand. But you’re still you. You say you’ll only be still and cold… You won’t be decaying or rotting or anything you associate with a dead body. And you’ll be waking up and… We’ll be together.”

“Of course.”

“Would it turn you on? Knowing I used you while you… Rested?”

Yoongi smiled softly, lowering his gaze. “Frankly? That’s… An incredibly sexy thought. The thought of you climbing into my coffin with me alone is enough to… Well… I’ve thought of it more than once. I never even imagined you’d be willing to… Let alone wanting to… Do more.”

“Should I stay in the coffin with you? After I finish?”

“I’m afraid not.” Yoongi shook his head. “Waking from my rest is a very jarring thing. I fear I might accidentally hurt you. I have a bed in my room next to the coffin, you can sleep there.”

Jimin nodded. “I do want this as long as you do. And I do want you to… Do the same.”

Yoongi leaned forward, kissing Jimin gently. 

“Hey… You’re a vampire… Don’t you have fangs?”

“They retract. When I’m resting they will come out, so don’t kiss me – you could get poked. But when I’m awake I can pull them in and out as needed.”

“Can I see them?” Jimin whispered. 

Yoongi seemed to be thinking about it. He grinned then. His wide, gummy grin suddenly became something much more frightening… And sexier, when Jimin realized his canines had lengthened and transformed into sharp, deadly points. Jimin’s breath left in a rush. 

“Oh wow…”

Yoongi’s smile dropped again to a relaxed expression. “Satisfied?” He asked, his tone slightly breathier with the fangs in the way. 

Jimin nodded. “I think you need to go to bed soon,” he murmured.

Yoongi smirked, one fang peeking out of his lip. “Horny bastard.”

“Not my fault.” Jimin squeezed Yoongi’s thighs. “Should I wait out here?”

“Please. Though it’s not disturbing I do like going to sleep alone. You’re free to come in in about fifteen minutes… I’ll be resting by then. The lube is in the top drawer of the dresser in the bedroom. 

“See you in the evening,” Jimin said. Yoongi rose and leaned forward, pecking Jimin’s mouth gently. 

Fifteen minutes had never been so damn slow. Jimin finished his drink and paced around the apartment, trying to distract from the ticking clock. He took the time to explore Yoongi’s place; he’d never had a chance to before. He had quite a number of interesting trinkets that Jimin wanted to ask about when he woke up. He pulled off his coat and tugged on one of Yoongi’s hoodies, hugging himself in it as Yoongi’s scent drifted into his nostrils from the warm fabric. 

Finally. Fifteen minutes had passed. Jimin entered the bedroom carefully, letting his eyes adjust to the room, even darker than the living room. He found a lamp near a comfy looking bed and flicked it on, looking around. The light was soft, diffused by the heavy shade. In the center of the room was a large, dark coffin. Jimin approached it carefully, his heart in his throat. Inside was Yoongi, looking much paler than usual. He was entirely still, arms resting across his bare belly. He was in his boxers, his cock comically rigid, tenting the front up obscenely. He was stunning. 

Jimin hurried over to the dresser and opened the drawer, finding the lube easily. He shucked his jeans and boxers, crawling onto the bed. He set his sleeping medication on the bedside stand and relaxed into the pillow. It smelled richly of Yoongi’s scent, his cock thickening against his thigh. He moaned softly, stroking himself. He looked over at the coffin, his stomach clenching. This was really happening. He poured some of the lube on his fingers and spread it over his hole, sighing contentedly as he pushed a finger in to prep himself. 

When he was ready, Jimin rose, sliding the lube and his phone into his pocket. He went over to the coffin, taking a moment to gaze down at his beautiful lover. A vampire… He knew he’d likely have a moment of realization down the line – the understanding that this simple confession had flipped his life upside down. But he’d never been one to shy away from the macabre or bizarre, and he always wondered if supernatural creatures existed. Yoongi’s confirmation of that was… Unexpected, but not unwanted. 

Jimin carefully straddled Yoongi’s lap. He knew he couldn’t wake him, but the fear was half the fun. Yoongi was still hard, his position entirely unchanged from the first moment Jimin saw him. Jimin pulled his boxers down just under his balls, smirking when he saw the tip was a deep purple red. He wrapped his hand around it and stroked gently, surprised to find it cool to the touch. Yoongi really was a living dead person. 

A surprising twinge of arousal spiked through Jimin, making him shudder. He wondered if Yoongi could still come in this state. Only one way to find out.

He shifted over, taking the lube from his hoodie with shaking hands and adding some to Yoongi’s cock, and more to his own stretched hole. He moved over and began to settle into Yoongi’s cock, muffling his quiet gasps in his other hand. Yoongi’s cock was so hard it was almost painful. There was none of the give he was used to, forcing his ass open wide to take the tip, and sliding deep into him. He whimpered, shuddering hard when he took his entire length. 

“Yoongi,” he whined softly. Curious, he reached out, touching Yoongi’s pale, cool face. He held his hand by his nose for a moment. Nothing. No movement of air, no shift, nothing. He moaned again, reality slowly sinking in. There was nothing normal or right about this. But God, it felt good. He dropped his hand down, pulling Yoongi’s top lip back. As promised, there they were, sharp fangs, glinting dangerously. Jimin touched one, ever so tempted to prick his finger on it, let Yoongi taste him… But no. Jimin pulled his hand back. That could be discussed at a later time. He settled back on Yoongi’s stiff cock and whimpered. There was no give. He was gonna lose it fast at this rate.

Jimin began to ride him, moaning openly as Yoongi’s cock slid over his prostate. He reached into his hoodie and removed his phone, holding it up. He found his camera app and angled it to show his face first, his cheeks mottled red with arousal. He moaned openly as he pressed record, not bothering to shy away from looking and sounding obscene. 

“Your cock is so hard, Yoongi. You’re gonna break my ass in half, oh!” He shuddered, biting his lip and twisting his hips down. “Fuck, I’ve never had something this hard up my asshole, Yoongi… I’m gonna gape for hours after I’m done with you.”

He whined, his throat clicking as he struggled to swallow. He turned the camera, filming Yoongi’s body before turning it and balancing it behind him, so he could film himself riding Yoongi. He glanced back, smirking when he realized the camera was catching each long stroke, Yoongi’s cock sinking back into his ass. He spread himself and leaned forward, giving more light for the camera. He fucked himself hard and fast onto Yoongi’s cock, moaning and begging for more, not hiding the pleasure he was getting. He reached back and grabbed the phone, holding it up again.

“I’m gonna come, Yoongi,” he whined. “I’m gonna come from using your thick, hard cock, right here in your coffin. Wanna see?”

He turned the camera and lifted the front of the hoodie. His cock was bouncing with each thrust of his body, slapping gently off Yoongi’s still stomach. 

“I’m so glad you slept shirtless,” Jimin panted. “Make me come, Yoongi… Oh God, please… Fuck my ass harder…” He moved faster, whining high in his throat. It shifted to a shout when his cock began to spurt, shooting ropes of come over Yoongi’s hands and belly. He stroked himself, still riding Yoongi’s cock as he milked the last come from himself. He shuddered and giggled, moving the camera behind him as he pulled off Yoongi. He held his ass open, feeling the cool air tickle him far more intimately than it should.

“Look at that gape,” he mumbled. “Too bad it’s not dripping with your come.” He pulled the camera back as he crawled out of the coffin.

“I think I’m gonna leave you like this… Covered in my come, boxers down… Just so you wake up and know what I did to you.” 

He walked back over to the bed in the corner. “Now, Yoongi… I’m gonna leave the lube right there.” He angled the camera to show himself setting it on the nightstand and picking up the sleeping pill. “And I’m gonna take my sleeping medicine.” He angled the camera back to his face to show him swallowing it. 

“Now I’m going to sleep just like this… No shorts… And I would love it, if you want to… To repay the favor and use my ass while I sleep.” He smirked. “I wonder… Is your come as cold your body was when you first come back? You should let me know… I wonder how that feels inside me…” He shook his head. “Sleep well… See you soon.” He ended the video and sent it to Yoongi, forcing himself to stay awake long enough to hear the buzz of Yoongi’s phone in his coffin. He let himself drift off to sleep, dreams full of sexy, arousing thoughts. 

Jimin’s ass was on fire. He moaned softly, opening his eyes blearily. The first thing he saw was the coffin. He turned his head, spotting the clock… Nearly seven hours since he’d gone to sleep. 

“Morning Sunshine,” Yoongi murmured. Jimin turned, spotting him at his desk. A cup of deep red liquid sat next to him as he worked on something. “How’s your ass?”

“Sore,” Jimin mumbled, reaching back. He was met with a gush of body temperature fluids, pouring from his gaped hole. He whined. “Fuck…” His cock throbbed against the mattress. “What did you do?”

“Me? I simply did as you asked in your video… Very sexy, by the way. Would you like to watch?”

Jimin rolled over, groaning weakly. His cock was hard despite the pain in his ass. It was perfect. “Show me,” he whispered.

Yoongi rose and grabbed his phone. He went over to the bed and sat on it with Jimin, passing him the device. 

Yoongi did far less teasing and talking in his video. He set up the phone at an angle on the nightstand, allowing it to capture most of Jimin’s sleeping body. Yoongi slicked his cock, looking into the camera as he sank into Jimin with a moan. He began to thrust into him quickly, holding Jimin’s ass open as he did. He maintained looking at the camera most of the time, his eyes the same black they were when he went to sleep.

As Jimin watched himself get used on the phone, Yoongi pulled him onto his lap. He’d withdrawn his cock, Jimin could feel. He hissed and whined softly when Yoongi dragged him over and slid back into his come lubed hole.

“It’s sore,” he whined.

“You can get off then, I don’t mind,” Yoongi said, letting his hips go. Jimin smirked. He shifted to get a better angle to watch the video and began to bounce lazily on Yoongi’s cock.

On the video, Yoongi had picked up speed, grunting as he fucked Jimin’s sleeping body. He tossed his head back, shouting and baring his teeth.

Jimin moaned, catching sight of Yoongi’s fangs. He touched his own neck, a little disappointed at the lack of bite marks. Yoongi on video shuddered, his hips going still. He leaned forward, kissing Jimin’s shoulder.

“There’s my first load, Jimin. It was as cold as ice… I’ve never felt your hole squeeze me so tight. Next time I’ll do it when you’re awake… I bet you’ll squeal so pretty when it fills you…” 

Jimin moaned, leaning back against Yoongi. “I wanna feel,” he confessed.

“I’ll make sure you’re awake next time,” Yoongi promised. “Wanna see the rest?”

Jimin nodded, riding Yoongi a little faster.

On video, Yoongi picked up the pace, fucking Jimin’s ass harder than before. He used him for nearly forty minutes, filling his hole three times. Finally, he sagged his shoulders, kissing over Jimin’s back. 

“You’re so fucking sloppy, baby,” he grumbled. He grabbed the phone and angled it down. Jimin’s ass was red, his hole swollen around Yoongi’s cock. He pulled out slowly and come bubbled out, obscene sounds filling the air. Yoongi chuckled. “I’ll leave you like this. When you wake up I’ll give you one more, if you want it.”

The video went black. Jimin leaned forward, his ass aching at the new angle. “I want it,” he whispered.

Yoongi shifted, pulling out only long enough to get onto his knees. He sank back into Jimin’s  already filled ass, and they both moaned at the sloppy noises. Jimin leaned up, wrapping his arms back around Yoongi.

“Bite me when you come,” he whispered.

“You sure?” Yoongi was fucking him hard, his cock twitching.

“Yes,��� Jimin promised. He reached down, stroking his cock in time with Yoongi’s thrusts. 

Yoongi was huffing erratically, holding tight to his middle. His fangs grazed Jimin’s shoulder. 

“Are you mine?” Yoongi panted in his ear.

“Yes—“

“Give yourself to me.” Yoongi grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand off his cock. “All the way. Are you mine, Jimin?”

“Yes, yes!” Jimin moaned. 

“I’m yours as well, Park Jimin,” Yoongi whispered. He slammed his cock deep. It began to throb, spilling inside Jimin. At the same time, Jimin felt a sharp pain and then a pressure on his shoulder. Pure pleasure washed over him. His cock began to spurt ropes of come, jerking hard enough to make them land on the floor in front of him. He shouted Yoongi’s name, reaching back and holding his neck as Yoongi drank from him. 

The two collapsed on the bed as their orgasms faded. Yoongi kissed and licked at the wound on Jimin’s shoulder until the blood clotted, sliding his softening cock carefully from Jimin’s aching ass.

“You okay?” Yoongi asked, nudging Jimin’s shoulder with his nose as they cuddled back to chest on the bed.

“I’m great,” Jimin whispered.

“No regrets? Still okay with it?”

“Fully… You?”

“It was so exciting,” Yoongi admitted. “When I woke and felt your come on me… And then saw you sleeping… And that video was stunning. You were so beautiful.”

Jimin smiled shyly. “We’ll have to go easy the next few nights… I’m really sore.”

“Of course. I’ll be gentle for a while, let you heal up.” Yoongi kissed over his shoulder. “Did the bite hurt?”

“No. It felt good… How often can you drink from me?”

“I’d prefer not to often. Living human blood, not bagged, it’s… Very rich and sweet, almost like candy. It can become addictive. I’m honored you let me, but I’ll save it as a treat for myself, if you don’t mind?”

“Of course.” Jimin turned as well as he could. His gaze searched Yoongi’s face, finally dropping down to his mouth, lips pink and cheeks mottled. “It was so interesting. Seeing you in your coffin.”

“I know it can be frightening.”

“No…” Jimin shook his head. “I think it sank in… That I was looking at someone who wasn’t alive. But knowing you’d be awake soon after, it was… This bizarre sort of… Taboo but sexy thing? I’m a freak, aren’t I?” Jimin’s shoulders sagged. 

“No more than I.” Yoongi nudged him again. “We can be freaks together.”

Jimin grinned. “Yoongi?” He said softly.

“Hm?”

“I feel gross.”

“Because of what we did?”

“No, silly.” Jimin laughed. “Because your come is gluing my ass and legs together. I need a shower.”

Yoongi laughed brightly, nodding. “Agreed. Let’s get one... It’s almost dinner, you’re probably starved.”

“You aren’t,” Jimin teased, rising slowly. “No, but I could eat. I’ll take you out after the shower.”

They walked together to the bathroom. “How does eating human food work with being a vampire?”

“Same as it works being alive,” Yoongi said, turning on the water. “It’s just empty calories for me – Which is why I never eat much.”

“There’s so much I feel like I have to learn about what you are… How life is for you.” Jimin crossed his arms as he waited for the water to warm. Yoongi straightened up and wrapped his arms around him. Now that Jimin was aware, he could feel that Yoongi was a few degrees cooler, his skin just a bit paler than human. 

“You can ask anything you need. We have time, and I’ll tell you all you want to know.”

“Yoongi…” Jimin leaned against him, hugging him tightly. He could hear Yoongi’s heart, glugging along at a lethargic pace. He smiled softly. “Can I confess something to you?”

“Hm?” Yoongi asked, resting his chin on Jimin’s shoulder. “I think I’ve fallen in love with you,” Jimin whispered. 

Yoongi went still, his heart skipping a little faster. “Jimin… Say that again,” he said.

“I… I’ve fallen in love with you.”

Jimin could feel Yoongi’s lips curve up into a smile against his shoulder. “In nearly sixty years of existence… I have never heard more beautiful words,” Yoongi admitted. “I love you too, Jimin… I feel like I’ll love you forever.”

Jimin pulled back, meeting Yoongi’s gaze. His eyes were back to their normal soft brown. He smiled. “Coming from someone who is immortal… That’s the most beautiful thing I could hear.”

Yoongi leaned forward, kissing Jimin deeply. He pulled him close, and Jimin melted into the touch. Yoongi may have cold skin, may drink blood and die once a week – but Jimin had never felt safer or warmer than he did at that very moment in Yoongi’s arms. 

#thebtswritersclub #yoonmin #jimin x yoongi #yoongi x jimin #jimin smut #yoongi smut #jimin #yoongi #mywriting

[lwt28brave]

LT2 masterpost

If it was up to me, we would get an autumn or winter EP. Since it’s not up to me at all, here, enjoy this post with everything we know so far of LT2, which is to say, not much at all. Everything here is hypothetical. I’ll be updating every time I see something relevant. A little disclaimer that while this is a masterpost (kinda), it could be read as discourse (duh, it’s also a theory), AND it’s also by me, and you shouldn’t expect me to be serious at this point.

Due to me restraining myself, there’s no reference to any of the times he’s mentioned his guitar skills and him improving but I hope you know I cried every single time.

I’m also linking my old pinned here. It was written before AFHF and around the free merch thing that didn’t lead to much, but I still think I made some good points.

Possible tracks:

Copy of a Copy of a Copy

Change

Faith in the future??

369??

Possible names:

369

Faith in the future

When is the album coming out?

Your guess is as good as mine

Friday 28th of January 2022. Almost two years after Walls. It’s a Friday. It’s a 28th. What else can I say?

Here you can find @want-to-be-loved timelines for every month.

Here you can find @berlinini’s timeline of what Louis has been up to this year (2021).

The rest is under the cut. And here you can find a PDF version where Tumblr can't tell me how many pictures I can add.

2020

He said back on May 2th 2020 he wasn’t writing anything new yet.

(x)(x)(x)

Interestingly enough, he’s said many times after that that the album’s not ready cause he has no new experiences to drawn from. I won’t call him out because he does it himself.

May 4th. He liked a tweet from DMA’s Johnny Took saying they had to go write together again. Louis has been credited as an influence for them and (kind of) participated in their previous record, so I’m assuming he meant for their music and not his, but you never know.

Nothing(literally nothing??? how did we survive) until 11th of July. We all know what happened that day. We all celebrated it. Nonetheless, that’s not what I’m talking about here.

(x) So, by the beginning of July 2020 he was working on concepts and ideas for the new album. That was fifteen months ago. I know perfection takes time but…

Brief summary of important things that happened from then until the next mention of new music:

Louis left Syco!!!! 10 days later he rescheduled the tour for the first time. He followed Matt Vines on Twitter, probably so we could publicly shame him into doing something. Also, the 10thanniversary. He followed more people I wish he hadn’t.

Then more nothing until September. Not even a single tweet. The first merch drop was on the 28th of August but he just RT’ed the tweet. He first mentioned Free my Meal on the 25th of September. Then on October 1st Walls hit #1 on a lot of countries and Louis was incredibly happy and excited about it ^^

And then, that same day, October 1st, 2020, he dropped this bomb:

(x)

He also said it was too soon to be sharing new lyrics with us (x)

And, obviously, this tweet which is actually what made me start this whole post. I would hope you know mate.

(x)

He also told us he was cooking "banger after banger" and that he was incorporating more social themes into his music (x)(x) (I believe any social issue is a political issue but that’s not the point rn).

COPY OF A COPY OF A COPY?!?!

These next paragraphs are brought to you by my mind not remembering things and me not having any links. I’m assuming COACOAC came from those writing sessions that supposedly happened in October. Or in LA but I have no idea if he actually was in LA at any point other than a Daily Mail article putting him there on December which would have been too late, but I do remember that someone said he was in the studio in LA last autumn???? A rumor. Maybe. IDK. Did I mention already all of this is very hypothetical?? Well, this is it. I can’t even remember if this was October or November or what. So, take this with a grain of salt.

I’m also… taking the liberty to assume, if you must, that Copy wasn’t meant to be a Walls reject because it sounds more mature and darker and it has a vastly different tone that Walls songs. I know he’s said that song probably isn’t getting into the album, but I want to have faith (in the future) that I’m getting a studio version. (But also, Louis, if you’re reading this, first of all GET OUT OF MY BLOG second of all, please don’t ever feel pressured again to add a song to the album because we have already heard it before. It’s your art and it should always be under your own terms).

So yeah, I believe that Copy is either one of those four songs (then imagine the other three??!!) or was written around the 1st of October date.

---End of the Intermission---

Then not much important (other than sharing more about Marcus Rashford fight against food poverty and the 2nd merch drop) until he announced the livestream on the 24th of November. (x)

It wasn’t until a few days before the livestream date we even thought again about new music (jk, I know we’re always thinking about new Louis’ music). So, December 9th/10th, 2020. Nine months ago. We got our first taste of new music!

He made sure we knew Copy of a Copy of a Copy isn't a cover! (x) (x)

(x)

Ok, so that’s it for 2020. (I feel like I’m missing something from September 17th because tweet was deleted but maybe he was still talking about cucumbers. We might never know. Unless I understand how Tumblr tags work). Expected, cause Walls was released in 2020. We needed to let it sit for a while.

2021

Another Summary: Louis third tweet of the year was telling the UK government off. So was the fifth. What a good beginning. On the 26th of January, he said he prefers pancakes over waffles. I hope he meant pancakes other than his own. More importantly, he tweeted the infamous “you lot read into things too much”. Don’t get me started, Tomlinson. Don’t. Then the 31st came around and Walls was one. He tweeted this. How wise. And Project Defenceless happened!!

15th of February!! Who cares about Valentine Day when the next day we got this? ♥

(x)

(x)

So…AN EP?? AN EP?? PLEASE RELEASE AN EP.

“I’m sure I will have something out this year but unlikely that will be the album”. Unlikely but not impossible. Also. A single would be good. This is the second time he mentions releasing something in 2021 and he sounds surer about it than the first time around.

He also said that he isn’t sure we will get a studio version of Copy. And that the best bridges from Walls to LT2 are Walls, OTB, KMM and Copy. Can’t wait!

Then we jump to March 6th when he announced he was going to create his own management company. “Sometimes action is needed first to encourage the motivation and belief”. As we can tell he was already manifesting some stuff which will lead us to the numerology stuff/Tesla… kidding. Or not. We might never know.

On the 22nd of March he answered some questions:

He told us music was still his main focus ♥ mwha. (x) I included this tweet to guilt-trip him into giving us music in case he’s reading this even after I told him to leave. ILY.

(x) I’d love to get a visual EP this autumn. Just saying. It sounds like a lovely concept.

(x)

…next (I will get into it, I promise. I’m just mad).

On the 25th he left for Mexico until April 10th. You could assume it was just for the documentary where we got ten seconds of footage or admit the obvious: LT2 its a Mexican baby!!

On the 26th (so, not so far apart from that first 369) we got the first Faith in the Future mention: (x)

Back then we were innocent people who had no idea what was coming upon us. We still have no idea because what the fuck does he mean with these. Please explain. I have one braincell and I don’t use it enough for this. I’m linking some theories.

On the 30th of March he confirmed he was already working on the documentary. So AFHF was already on the works. Will it take this long for us to get the Veeps numbers? We also got this tweet: "Got a decent chorus idea down" (x).

Same person that got the “something out this year” exclusive. If you know something share with the class. Also. Is this Change? I feel like this could be Change but I also assume he wrote Change after hanging out with his friends or being in Doncaster. But who knows.

(x) And the second mention to 369.

(x) 15th of April. The second "Faith in the future".

On the 19th of April he announced that he had something BIG for us later on the year which turned out to be the Away From Home Festival ♥♥ (x) I love him so much.

Then on the 28th he announced the 369 merch drop (which it’s probably the Walls drop? Except that the TOU and KMM ones were “drop 1 and drop 2” and this was drop 369 which, again, makes no sense) but we still don’t know what 369 means.

Into May’ 21 we go.

He rescheduled tour again. And dropped another bomb (x).

He announced he has signed with BMG as an independent artist by RTing this tweet on May 10th. The article also says that he’s already working on writing and recording LT2. The timing… we don’t know. What this deal involves… we don’t know either. Bear with me here because I have a lot to say about this.

I think the deal is only a distribution one, but that BMG are interested in Louis and what he (us) could bring to the table. They were either present at the festival or watching it, but officially they had no involvement at all with it (everything is credited either to Louis own company, 78 Productions, or Charlie Lightening’s company). That’s the case for both giveaways too; the vinyl one and the tickets for the festival.

I think it would be an unbelievably bad move not to test the waters with BMG now or soon-ish. At least a single, to see how it performs. Due to the circumstances, it’s obvious there’re certain limitations on place but I want to see how they push it, whether the radio play exist this time around and if the song is playlisted and promoted and all that… I would also love to know, since it says he signed with BMG UK, but it also states it’s a global deal, how things are going to go on the US and other countries.

Yes, yes. I know those are all questions and no answers. But I know the same as you, sadly. If any of you know more than you’re letting on… again, share with the class.

Where was I? Yes, on the 25th of May Louis had a great day writing (x). Since the first time he had mentioned he was officially writing to this date there’s almost eight months. And I believe he was writing before October’ 20.

He followed Robert Harvey that day and, on the 28th of May (why is it always the 28th???) he was spotted at the studio for the first time.

June was an interesting month for the fandom ♥. Lots of LHL content which I will love and cherish for the rest of times. On June 4th, June 9th, and June 10th he was spotted at the studio, but I believe he was there more days.

(x)

This was posted on June 6th and captioned Studio. Charlie also shared it with “Mega tunes being put down, can’t wait for this @louist91 #louistomlinson #LT2” as the caption. This gives me 2019 (Elton-Joint) vibes. I like it. Feels like we’re getting closer to something.

He added the Milano date on the 9th too which I’m mentioning because I’m going alone. Anyone wanna go with me please? I’m nice and I never eat anything before a concert so you can have my food. On other news. It didn’t come home.

During July he was at the studio at least three days too. Probably more. Feels like more with all the fan pictures we got. Or was that June? Anyway, July 1st and 9th we got some videos from Robert Harvey and wearesuperhi, which is who Louis has been working with the most, that we know of. I don’t know for sure they’re from that day. And on July 5th we got an article and lots of pictures of Louis looking really good outside the studio.

On the 12th of July the first fans started getting the free, 369 bucket hat and print. We still don’t know what the purpose was other than to thanks fans. Maybe that was it. I want answers and I still think it relates to a future project (see theories above), but it could also just be a bridge with the Walls breaking.

He didn’t tweet about anything interesting for a while, mostly because he lost his phone (he either throwed it in the air or smashed it who knows). Then on the 29th of July he announced the festival!

I’m glossing over it because there’s already been a lot of talk about it (rightfully) and while it was a wonderful thing, it doesn’t have much to do with LT2.

Let’s talk Change!

On August 3rd he tweeted this about the setlist.

(x)

And this (x) on the 28th! I can’t stand him.

We didn’t get it, obviously. Because who was going to get that. But we read too much into things. Alright.

On the 16thof August Dave Gibson shared this post tagged #LT2 with the eyes emojis 👀👀👀. I believe this has to do both with Change but also with whatever else came out of that Mexico trip.

(x) Last relevant tweet related to LT2 is this one.

So, on the 30th of August we got Change and we cried, and we know that Change is going in the new album. He said it. With those exact words. He also said he was “getting a feeling for it”. This has to meant he already has a general idea of the vibe of the new album and what’s going in it!!!!!! (Right? RIGHT?).

Anyway, let’s go back a few weeks because some other things happened on August. He was at the studio a few more times. Or it was suggested that he was there. On the 17th and the 18th. (Why was it so time-pressing to be at the studio instead of rehearsing for the festival? There was no studio at all on the documentary. Which makes sense, but again, then why?).

On the day of the festival we got another mention of Faith in The Future that made me feel part of a cult ngl. The words were flashing on the screen for less than a second. Okay.

And then he tweeted those words again after watching the livestream/documentary on the 4th of September (x). This is what makes me suspect it's either the name of the album or of the single.

On the same day, we got some interesting quotes about LT2 on the documentary.

“Soon I’ll have to think about me second album, which in my head I’ll get the tour out of the way and then I’ll address that. So, I hadn’t really given it much thought, to be honest”.

“When every day is the same is hard to feel creative and it’s hard to have any kind of proper inspiration”.

“As season started to come back, I started writing again and it was great and some of these songs turned out alright”.

And I think this is it. I might be overlooking some important details but that’s what we know and what we don’t know.

So. Conclusions. That’s what you missed on Glee. I do believe the album is, if not mostly done, partially there. And yes, this post is pointless and never-ending but it’s all in here if you need to tell Louis “Hey, you said this, mate”.

#LT2 #Louis Tomlinson #Faith in The future #369 #Louis #LT #new music #idk what this is #but it's long #pinned

[dracarys-wp-writes]

Moments

Title: Moments Requested by: @hacker-ghost

Request: 5 times Corpse almost kissed the reader and one time he actually did. Where corpse and reader are like bff roommates, oblivious to how much the act like a couple even though everyone tells them that. (additionally I'd love to end it with something like it turns out that Jack Felix and others were betting when it would finally happen 😅) (A/N: Sorry I couldn’t work the bet part into this with the way that I was going with it.)

Word Count: 3739

Warnings: Little swearing, Angst, mutual pining, little fluff.  (c/b/f/n) = Childhood Best Friends Name.

Note:  Just to be clear I will not write things that would make Corpse uncomfortable and If he ever says that he is uncomfortable with fanfiction being written about him I will delete this.  *** Y/N and Corpse had known each other for several years, 4 years to be exact and they have been best friends for three of those and roommates for two, and for the last year Y/N had been developing feelings for the man. She thought that he had the same feelings for her but over the past few months she had begun to doubt it, there had been several times that she thought that he was gonna make a move and kiss her but every time he would pull back or something would cause an interruption and he would pretend that it never even almost happened. 

It was starting to frustrate her because she actually wants him to kiss her, but she’s too afraid to take the leap herself and make it happen.

The First Almost Kiss:

Over the past few days Y/N had noticed that her best friend and roommate Corpse had been acting a little weird around her and when she asked about it he just brushed it off. 

“It’s nothing Y/N” would be the answer that she got each time she asked and each time she sighed not believing him but she didn’t press it. It was a few days later that it almost happened for the first time, the two were sitting on the couch having a scary movie marathon, just cause they could and Y/N loved scary movies, all the curtains were drawn to the point that it was dark in the apartment and the only source of light being from the TV playing the first Paranormal Activity movie. Y/N had her head laying on his shoulder something that wasn’t unusual for their movie marathons, when there was a jump scare and she jumped letting out a little squeal, which made him laugh. She playfully glared looking up at him, she loved hearing his laugh. He looked down at her with a teasing grin on his face, they locked eyes and she couldn’t help but let the glare slip off her face, she could get lost in his eyes. His eyes broke contact and flicked down to her lips and then back to her gorgeous (y/e/c) and he leaned in slightly as if he were going to kiss her and, her breath caught in her throat, and her hands got a little clammy, and then all of a sudden he pulled back and cleared his throat. Y/N dropped her head, her cheeks heating up from the embarrassment, that she had actually wanted him to kiss her and she thought he was going to only for him to pull away, she wasn’t surprised, no one that she liked in the past had ever liked her back so why would he be any different? She blinked back tears of disappointment, and focused on the movie as an awkward silence settled between the two, it got so tense that Y/N had to leave the room because she couldn’t take it. After she was in the safety of her bedroom she let out a sigh. He watched as her door shut and he kicked himself ‘Fuck, nice going now you upset her. Why the fuck did you even try that? Of course she’s not going to like you the same way that you like her.’ She was upset but just not for the reasons that he was thinking, he thought she was upset because he had tried to kiss her, when she was really upset because he didn’t kiss her. ***

Things got a little weird between them after that but Y/N tried her best to just brush it off, like she wasn’t slowly falling for him more and more, but she never let it show cause of course he wouldn’t feel the same way about her. The next time it almost happened was a month and a half later.

The Second Almost Kiss:

Y/N sighed she had been feeling a little down ever since the incident but she refused to bring it up, he could tell that something was bothering her but she wasn’t budging on giving up what it was. No matter how hard he tried. Y/N had been in the kitchen making lunch for the two of them when all of a sudden she heard a crashing sound and immediately she ran towards the noise and what she found was Corpse, in front of a broken mirror and she sighed “Come here” He looked at her noticing the startled look she had on her face, “Sorry.” She gave him a smile shaking her head “It’s okay, Corpse, you don’t need to be sorry the noise just scared me a little that’s all” and then she made him sit down before she pulled a first aid kit out from under the sink and she started cleaning his hand, disinfecting it. She leaned a little closer to him to get a better angle while cleaning the cuts on his knuckles from the broken glass., she was putting the bandage on his hand and she looked up not realizing how close together they were, she ended up staring into his eyes, and if she were to lean forward just a half and inch their lips would be touching. She unintentionally pressed a little too hard on the bandage, as she was pressing it down making sure it was secure, that made Corpse wince and slightly hiss in pain and he pulled back, she gave him a sheepish look as both of their faces heated up slightly embarrassed at how close they had gotten. “Sorry, I didn’t mean t-to press that hard.” she avoided eye contact as she stood “there you go all cleaned up. I’m just gonna get the rest of this glass up and uhh there’s food on the counter. I was just finishing up making lunch when I heard the glass breaking.” Then she carefully cleaned up the rest of the broken glass. He nodded at her “Uh Thanks.” ‘Stupid, remember the last time you tried that, she got upset.’ ‘What the hell was that? Why are you so damn careless? Literally could have kissed him there, if you weren’t so careless’ Were the thoughts that simultaneously popped into their heads as they quietly walked into the kitchen, a tense silence falling over them for the second time. 

The third time that he almost kissed her happened exactly two weeks after the second incident. Y/N felt even more down than before she really beat herself up for messing up the second time, and she just kept reminding herself that she’s reading too much into that he doesn't have the same feelings for her that she does for him. The Third Almost Kiss: 

It had been two weeks since the mirror incident and Y/N had finally managed to convince Corpse to get out of the apartment for a little while, it was around 8 PM and she convinced him to go on a walk with her, since it was late and there wouldn’t be that many people around and he reluctantly agreed. 

So they went for a walk. It was a nice night out a little cloudy, and he couldn’t help but smile at the smile on her face as they walked back towards their apartment. It was almost 10 now even if he wouldn't admit it he had enjoyed going out on the walk with her, the two were about a block away from home when it started raining. 

Y/N grinned, she had always loved the rain, she used to play in it as a child, and getting caught in the rain like that made a feeling of nostalgia flood through her. Corpse ran in the direction of the apartment but stopped noticing that Y/N hadn’t followed so he looked back and saw her smiling, with her arms open, and she started spinning around in the rain laughing and seeing her that happy made a smile slip onto his face. He decided then that he loved seeing that smile on her face, she stopped spinning and grinned at him “Come on, spin around with me… I love playing in the rain.” she gave him a little pout and he sighed but walked back to where she was and she made him spin in circles with her as the rain pelted down soaking both of them. He smiled the smile she had on her face right now was worth standing out in the rain for. He spun her around, kinda like they were dancing in the rain and they both had the biggest smiles in their faces and they both leaned in slightly and right as they were about to kiss a car drove past, running right through a puddle and splashed them both making them pull apart. Y/N bit her lip, her cheeks tinting red, she cleared her throat “we should probably head back before we get anymore soaked from the rain” He agreed and they headed back to the apartment with a bit of an awkward silence enveloping them as they walked home. 

The fourth time was a few days after the almost kiss in the rain. 

The Fourth Almost Kiss:

The cough coming from the other room was what distracted Corpse from the editing of the video that he was supposed to post next weekend. Quickly looking at the bottom corner of the computer screen checking the hours, the young man saw that exactly three hours had passed since the last time he checked her. He paused everything he was doing, got up from his chair, left his recording room and headed to the kitchen where he picked up a small bottle of water and some strawberry cookies, which were Y/N’s favorites.

Without delay he knocked on the girl’s bedroom door, waiting for the little hoarse ‘Come in’ that came in response, and entered it. He found her sitting on her white gaming chair, with some headphones on her head and totally focused on the computer screen, which showed the construction of a witch house that she seemed to be making in Minecraft.

“Here, eat this and hydrate yourself.” He placed the items on her lap which was covered with a fluffy blanket that she had to cover her legs, and was careful not to step on the other empty water bottles that she had on the floor next to the desk. He also guaranteed that he was out of the camera frame and was not seen by any of her viewers.

"Thank you." She said, coughing again. She was pale but with red cheeks, her face was glistening with sweat and she looked sleepy and tired.

"Take a short break. It's been 20 hours, it's almost over." He informed her, checking now the watch on his wrist (it had been a birthday present from the girl in front of him), and making sure he was right in what he said.

Y/N was making her monthly challenge of streaming for 24 hours straight, just pausing to go to the bathroom and eating something. Corpse had gone to sleep and woken up with her still on the computer, and every three hours he checked on her.

Still looking at the screen she opened the package of cookies, took one and stuck it in her mouth, eating it quickly. Then she opened the water bottle and sipped it all in big sips, and the empty bottle went to join the others on the floor to be filled with tap water later.

The cough came back again, however.

"Are you okay?"

"My throat hurts a little." She informed in a tired voice and eating another cookie.

Corpse narrowed his eyes suspiciously, and without further ado he approached and touched her forehead and cheeks (his hand and the black sleeve of his hoodie being the only thing they could see). "Y/N! You are hot, you must have a fever."

"No I'm not, I'm okay."

"Yes you are, finish the stream now."

"I can't, it's almost over."

"Don't be stubborn, of course you can. They agree with me, stop and go to bed."

And it was true, her chat was in an uproar with thousands of people sending messages so quickly that it was almost impossible to read, extremely concerned about the girl and also telling her to end the livestream.

"Alright..." Y/N quickly said goodbye, extremely sorry but at the same time too tired to fight against them.

He calmly helped her walk to the bed (after that she almost fell when she got up) and when the stream and the computer were off. He snuggled her up in the bed, and left quickly to fetch more water and some medication that they had in home.

When Corpse returned he watched her put herself in a more sitting position, and gave her the pills which she swallowed quickly, then coughed a little. Corpse sat on the bed next to her, touching her forehead again, feeling her skin almost boiling against his cold hand.

"You pushed yourself too hard, Y/N."

"Maybe, but... I feel like I'm disappointing them, however." She said sadly.

"You're not, you have to take better care of yourself."

"Look who's talking." Y/N provoked.

"Shut up." He laughed, pulling her hair back behind her ear and watching her fever-red cheeks.

"Thanks Corpse, if you weren't looking after me, I don't think I would."

"You do the same for me..."

They shared a smile and a sweet look. The atmosphere was warm and comfortable, the two snuggled together. "You should stay away, I don’t want to make you sick."

"You need me here."

"You can't live without me." She said with a malicious gleam.

"No, I can't."

And then, without really knowing how, they gradually got closer to each other ... ending the distance centimeters that separated them slowly, now so close that their breathing is mixed and their lips almost touched ...

Until Y / N quickly pulled away to have a coughing fit, and looked at him embarrassed.

"I-"

"I'm going to get the thermometer, we have to measure your temperature." Corpse ran away so fast that it left Y/N unresponsive…

And the next day he was sick too.

The Fifth Almost Kiss: Y/N sighed she had finally given in to go on a blind date that her (c/b/f/n) had set up she wasn’t looking forward to it but she had to forget about him somehow since it had been made clear at least in her head that Corpse didn’t return her feelings, so she had agreed to the blind date as a way to forget about her feelings for her roommate. Corpse had been pacing around his room while Y/N got ready for her blind date, he really didn’t want her to go, a feeling of jealousy bubbled up in his chest thinking about it and right then he told himself that he was gonna try and stop her from going. Y/n had spent the past half hour trying on different outfit with (c/b/f/n) on facetime, and was finally in an approved outfit, that made her roll her eyes she really didn’t want to be doing this but she felt like she didn’t have a choice at this point so she would push down the feeling that bubbled up every time, she thought about it. After about 10 more minutes she was finally ready and ended the facetime call, she gave herself a once over her bathroom mirror, before walking out into her room, she slipped her shoes on and grabbed her bag. A thought lingered in her mind as she walked towards her bedroom door ‘maybe I could pretend I got sick last minute and back out.’ then she shook her head knowing that (c/b/f/n) would never believe it, wouldn't be the first time that excuse had been used to get out of a date.  ‘Suck it up Y/N and stop being such a little bitch, it’s just a date, you’ve been on them before’ 

She walked out of her bedroom, Corpse looked at her and faltered ever so slightly, she looked beautiful, he always thought she looked beautiful but at that moment she took his breath away. 

“Who are you going out with again?” “I’ve never met him actually (c/b/f/n) set it up, it’s a blind date.” “Why agree to go out with someone you’ve never met?” Y/n shrugged “i don’t know, try something new I guess.” she walked towards the door “I’ll be late if I don’t leave now, so I’ll be home later.” she opened the door but before she could walk out he gently grabbed her arm, turning her to face him. “Don’t go.” Y/N looked up at him “why? Why don’t you want me to go?” He looked down into her eyes for a moment before he dropped his hand from her arm, but he hesitated and once again didn't kiss her. She sighed "I'll see you later." 

Then she walked out of the door.  

Corpse ran his hand through his hair "dammit, that was your chance why didn't you take it?" 

Y/N took a deep breath as she got out of her car at the restaurant that she was supposed to be meeting her date at. 

She waited outside the restaurant for three hours and her date never showed, she rolled her eyes and couldn't help but feel slightly down about it. 

She got back into her car and drove home. 

She walked in and didn't see Corpse so she figured he was in his recording room,  she doesn't want to bother him even if all she wants is one of his hugs that always makes her feel better. 

She kicked her shoes off by the door and dropped down on the couch pulling her knees up to her chest, resting her chin on her knees and she sighed a feeling of sadness settling in her chest. She really just didn't want to be alone right now so she got up and knocked on the door she heard "Come in." 

She walked in "hey." 

He looked at her "hey Y/N, how'd it go?" He questioned. 

She sighed trying to not seem as bummed out as she really was “it didn’t” She didn't do a very good job at hiding it cause he caught it almost immediately. “What happened?” 

“Didn’t show… all the effort I put into this, only to be left standing outside where we were supposed to meet by myself looking pathetic for 3 hours.” she sighed. All he did was stand up from his computer chair and pull the girl into a hug. ***

Corpse had reluctantly gone out with Y/N, she had convinced him to go to the beach with her, it was the middle of the week in October so there shouldn’t be too many people around. She smiled at him as they sat on the sand “See not so bad is it?” He gave her a look “I guess not” was the answer that he gave and everything was going just fine until about an hour later. Someone nearby had recognized his voice but wasn’t sure where it had come from so Y/N got him up off the sand and ushered him towards the car “Let’s just get out of here alright? They haven’t located where we are so we can slip past without being noticed okay?” The man in question nodded at her not saying anything to avoid further being noticed and the two successfully made it to the car without incident Y/N pulled the keys out of her pocket and  they got into the car and she started driving them back to their apartment. Y/N pulled over about halfway home because the man beside her was having what seemed to her to be a panic attack, his hands were shaking uncontrollably and she noticed the ragged breathing and deduced that he was having a panic attack so she pulled over to try and help him calm down, she unbuckled her seat belt and completely turned in her seat to face him “Hey, look at me.” She tried to get his attention but it wasn’t working; he was too lost in his own world of panic. So she grabbed his face and gently turned his head to look at her “Corpse, look at me, I need you to focus on the sound of my voice, okay?” but he was still not responding to her and then suddenly she remembered reading something about panic attacks and holding your breath so she blew out a breath and muttered “god I hope this works.” She grabbed his face and leaned over the middle console of the car and she kissed him, the kiss lasted maybe 15 seconds before it was over and he let out a shaky breath but it wasn’t feeling like his throat was closing up on him anymore. “Why did you do that?” Y/N let out a breath as well before answering “I read somewhere that holding your breath could stop a panic attack, so uhh when I kissed you, you held your breath and it looks like what I read was right because it stopped.” They are staring into each other's eyes now Y/N had a soft smile on her face as he stared back at her with a small smile present on his face as well “was that the only reason you kissed me to get me to hold my breath?”

Y/N’s face turned red “I- uh… Let’s go home yeah?.” he agreed and she got turned back around the right and finished driving them home. Once they got into the safety of their apartment Corpse looked at Y/N “So are you gonna answer my question or not?” her face heated up once again as she stuttered “Uh- I- Uhh” then she tried to walk past him but he grabbed her arm lightly to stop her. And he turned her around to face him and whispered “Because I am hoping it wasn’t the only reason.” then he kissed her again only this time he was the one that instigated the kiss, Y/N smiled into the kiss before she kissed him back. 

THE END

#corpse husband #corpse husband fanfic #corpse x reader #corpse imagines #youtubers #youtuber imagine #imagines #fluff #corpse husband x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #corpse husband x you #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband x fem! reader #corpse husband x female reader

[heytherejulietx]

K. ~ Fred Weasley

Masterlists

Requests are CLOSED

Notes - Hi! So this is my own entry to my writing challenge. I found this song literally yesterday and after listening to the lyrics I had to use it. Originally I was going to use the song Dear True Love by Sleeping At Last but when I heard this I had to write it. So yeah, I hope you enjoy it as mich as I do! Please leave some nice feedback, I’m a slut for validation.

Warnings - A few hot moments, though no actual smut.

Word count - 4.2k.

Harry Potter tag list - @idont-knowrn @weasleysflowr @angelinathebook @msmimimerton @durmstrange @kashishwrites

Twins tag list - @whizbangs-78

If you’d like to be added to any tag list please just tell me!

I remember when I first noticed that you liked me back

We were sitting down in a restaurant waiting for the check

~

Fred couldn't really distinguish the line that was drawn between when he was friends with Y/N and when he first started liking her. They had been best friends since their first year at Hogwarts; himself, George, and her. They were inseparable. The three did everything together, and the only time they really were apart was when they had to head off into their separate dormitories for the night. As they got older, Fred started to view her as more of a friend. Though if someone was to ask him when he started feeling that way, he couldn't give an answer. Fondness turned into adoration, friendliness turned into flirtatiousness, and friendship turned into a crush. Though Fred never did anything about it throughout his schooling years. He thought she didn't like him in that way, and whilst being bound in the agonising friend-zone hurt him, he respected her decision and just wanted to get happy.

Though, there was still never a day where he looked at her and didn't think she was beautiful. There was never a day when he didn't want to gather her in his arms and never let go of her. There was never a day where he didn't want to pull her closer by the belt-loops on her trousers and kiss her until they were breathless. Sometimes George teased him about how whipped he was, though instead of getting offended he just agreed. He most definitely was whipped, but he loved it.

When the twins had left Hogwarts to start up their shop, Y/N had remained at the school to finish off her year and complete her exams. And whilst the twins - but mostly Fred - missed her horribly for those months - on the day after the summer she'd finished school before, she turned up at the door of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, asking for a job. And since that point on, it was like they were at school again. They were inseparable. And Fred was more in love with her than ever before.

Though he had never felt more in love with her than he did one early Sunday morning. The shop was closed for some maintenance that was being done, so whilst George was snoozing in his apartment, Fred and Y/N had gone out for breakfast at a muggle café in London. They had already eaten all of their food and were waiting for the check so that they could leave. In that moment Y/N was laughing at something that Fred had said, and he just looked over at her with such adoration and love, only one thought going through his mind.

"I bloody love this woman."

~

We had made love earlier that day with no strings attached

But I could tell that something had changed how you looked at me then

~

Fred could remember the night before that morning so clearly. He couldn't get it out of his head, the way she looked in his bed, clothes discarded over the bedroom floor and her hair splayed out over his pillow, whispering his name breathily as she pulled him impossibly closer. He would die a happy man if that was his last thought. She was just so beautiful, simply the thought of it made butterflies swirl in his stomach and a fond smile to sweep across his lips.

The night before hadn't been planned. At first she had just been coming over Fred's place for dinner as George was busy on his own date with Angelina, though the atmosphere between them was so different that night. Y/N kept shifting in her seat the whole dinner, and whenever they made eye contact, it was intense. Intense in a way that it had never been before. He couldn't remember what he had said to her, but after the dinner was over she flung herself at him mid-conversation and kissed him with a passion that he didn't realise she had.

"Please." She had whined through the kiss, both of them stumbling through the hallway towards Fred's bedroom. "Just tonight, Freddie. No strings attached."

And whilst the promise of no strings attached stung a little, the attraction and lust that had filled him in that moment was undeniable.

"Freddie?" 

Fred looked back up and across the table at Y/N, pulling himself out of the love-driven trance that he had found himself in. When he met her gaze he pulled a half-smile onto his lips when looking at the beautiful woman in front of him, and seeing the way she was looking at him.

Oh.

She was looking at him the same way he looked at her multiple times a day. With such a fondness that his heart started racing in his chest and his palms became sweaty. 

She liked him back.

~

Kristen, come right back

I've been waiting for you to slip back in bed

When you light the candle

~

Fred groaned as he rolled over in the bed and stretched his arm out for his lover, though felt nothing but pillows and the quilt, and not the beautiful girl who belonged there. He pat around the space another few times, just to make sure her frame really wasn't there, before pouting as he flipped over to lay on his back.

"Darling!" He groaned, and didn't miss the distinct giggle across the room from his lover. "Come back, I miss you too much. I can hear my heart breaking more and more with every moment that you're away."

"Stop being so dramatic, I'm just lighting a candle." She scoffed fondly, followed by the click of a lighter being lit.

"You left me to light a bloody candle?" Fred sat up and had to squint his eyes to see her in the dimly lit room. When he spotted her, stood on the other side of the room by their dresser with a now-lit candle, he couldn't help but smile despite the false annoyance he was trying to portray. She was stood there in just her underwear, her hair messy and a bit knotted, but to him she looked perfect. She caught his gaze across the room and sent him a wink, before shrugging her shoulders at his previously spoken statement.

"Hey, they smell nice. This is the one that reminds me of your mum's house." She explained with a soft smile as she put the lighter away in the top drawer of their dresser.

"Why? Because it's in an orange jar?" Fred joked with a small entertained smirk when he watched her roll her eyes.

"No." She giggled. "It smells like cinnamon, like her cooking whenever we go to visit them." 

Fred watched as she approached the bed with the candle in her hand, and waited until she had put it down on their bedside table before he smirked and moved his arms around her waist, tugging her into the bed.

"Fred!" She squealed, laughing once he had rolled them so he was leaning over her, his legs bracketing hers as his hands moved down to her waist to start tickling her. She only laughed harder, the noise making him smile fondly as he kept running his fingers across her ribs, pushing away her hands that made a futile attempt at getting him to stop. He kept at it until he could see that she was running out of breath, despite still laughing loudly. In one fluid movement he caught each of her wrists in one of his hands and pinned them above her head against the pillow, his other hand resting on her hip, his thumb brushing along the waistband of her underwear.

"I hate you." She groaned, a slight giggle in her words at the ghosting of his tickles. 

"No you dont." Fred smirked, looking down at her with a shit-eating grin. "You love me."

"Yeah, I guess I do." She sighed dramatically, just giggling when Fred had rolled his eyes at her dramatics.

"You guess?" Fred raised an eyebrow at her before lowering his head to her neck, leaving light kisses along the already marked skin. He felt her hands wiggle in his grip, though he kept her wrists pressed into the pillows.

"Mhm." She hummed, another quiet giggle leaving her lips. 

Fred just smirked against her neck before tilting his head a little, leaving open-mouthed kisses at the base of her throat instead. He felt an especially smug feeling wash over him when he heard her breath catch in her throat once he'd lightly sucked on the exposed skin there, her hands wriggling again.

"Still guess so?" He asked smugly against her neck, being answered with a quiet whine instead of a sarcastic remark.

"Freddie." She whined, pulling against his hand. "Stop being such a tease."

Fred only chuckled, pulling back from her neck to lift his head and meet her lips with his instead, breathing in her exhale once she had sighed into his mouth. "Sorry, love." He muttered, releasing her wrists to rest his hands on her hips, feeling her's immediately find a place in his fiery locks. "Can't help myself."

~

And on the Lower East Side you're dancing with me now

And I'm taking pictures of you with flowers on the wall

~

One of her favourite things to do was dance. She danced all the time; when she was working, when she was cooking, when she was getting changed. She was always in such a good mood, it was astonishing to him that one person could hold so much happiness in them. Which was why it was so obvious to Fred when she was in a bad mood. She became very quiet, and almost drained.

Fred noticed this when he came home from work on one of the days she had off, and noticed her sat on the sofa with their cat Percy (Fred thought that naming their cat after his older brother was an absolutely hilarious idea, especially since Percy hated cats) still in her pyjamas, which was odd because even if she wasn't going anywhere she would still get dressed for the day.

She greeted him when he had come home, looking over at him as he took his shoes off with a small smile, and Fred could definitely tell that something was wrong when the smile didn't quite meet her eyes as it usually did.

"Hey, love." Fred said softly as he walked into the room, moving to crouch in front of her and gently took her hands. "Are you alright?"

Y/N sighed, shrugging as she looked down at their hands. "I had an argument with my mum this morning when she called. And we just never really argue a lot, so it kind of upset me a bit."

Fred frowned and let go of her hands to wrap his arms around her waist, standing with her so they could hug properly. "I'm sorry, darling." He said softly, leaving a kiss against her hairline as he held her tighter when feeling her grip on him tighten. 

They kept stood like that for a while in silence, with Fred leaving kisses against whatever part of her he could reach as he gently rubbed her back, trying to offer whatever sort of comfort he could give her that would make her feel even just a little bit better. He noticed that as the minutes passed her grip on him subtly got looser and looser, until she was simply holding him normally.

After a few minutes Fred pulled away from the hug with a soft smile, and leaned down to her height so he could press a soft kiss against her lips, and couldn't help but feel a bit better when he felt her smile against his lips. When he'd pulled away she smiled at him softly and pressed a gentle kiss against his cheek, before returning to her spot on the sofa beside Percy, who was now asleep.

Though she still didn't look too happy, so after a moment of thought Fred smiled and moved across the room to their muggle CD player - an invention that she had introduced to him a few months back, and since then had loved it so much to be collecting muggle CDs of music that he liked. He found one of their favourite CDs to listen to together and put the disk in before he turned back towards Y/N as the music started floating across the room.

"Could you do me the honour of dancing with me, my love?" Fred bowed before her with one hand stretched out towards her, his words spoken in an over-the-top posh accent.

"Of course, my darling." She giggled, taking his hand and letting him pull her out of her seat to the middle of the room.

Fred's hands fell to rest on her waist as her arms loosely wrapped around his shoulders, the two of them swaying to the music together as they kept each other held close. Her head leaned to rest against his chest and she sighed softly, before Fred felt her relax against him. They danced for a while, long enough and peacefully enough for the rest of the world to blur away, and to just be left with the two of them there, the music a beautiful ambience in the background as the two swayed together lovingly.

"I love you, Freddie." She whispered softly, tilting her head to look at him with an expression that made him melt.

"I love you too, sweetheart." He leaned down to capture her soft lips with his own, a warm feeling bubbling in his stomach at the simplest touch from her.

Once he had pulled away, he removed one of his hands from her waist and reached to take one of her's instead, his smile growing as he gently spun her twice. Y/N giggled as she spun, falling back into Fred's chest with a light laugh as her hand gently squeezed his. Their dancing soon became almost silly, with her trying to spin Fred a few times - which was only successful when Fred helped her out by ducking since he was a considerable amount taller than her - and Fred dipping Y/N whenever a song ended. They ended up dancing for so long that before they knew it the album had ended. At the end of the song Fred dipped Y/N which caused her to giggle and smile at him - an expression that always made him fall in love with her all over again. Instead of letting her back up he leaned down with her to kiss her instead, smiling against her lips when she had wrapped both arms around his shoulders to pull herself closer and deepen the kiss.

By the evening, when the light outside was a beautiful orange glow that cast an amazing light through their windows, they were both in the bedroom, wrapped up in each other's embrace underneath the sheets.

"Freddie." Y/N whispered, only getting a hum from the man who had his face pressed against the soft skin of her neck, his arms wrapped around her gently. "I need to get up, I'm staying at my sister's to help with the baby."

Fred groaned, holding onto her tighter which made her giggle as she lightly slapped his shoulder. "Come on, please? I can't be late, you know what she's like."

Fred sighed heavily though despite his reluctance to let her go he unwound his arms from her waist and rolled over, pouting when she had turned to look at him, whereas she just giggled quietly at his expression before getting out of bed. 

"I'll be back tomorrow afternoon, love. We've got that double date with George and Angelina, remember?"

Though Fred wasn't really listening to her, instead his attention was her moving around the room to get her underwear, his eyes never leaving her body as she put them on. He sat up when she'd walked past the wall parallel to the window which had flowers painted over it, holding a hand up, despite her still only in her underwear. "Hold still for a moment."

"Fred, I really need to-"

"No no no, it'll only take a moment." Fred searched the draw of his bedside table for a moment before he smiled as he pulled out what he had been looking for - a polaroid camera. It had been a gift from one of their muggle friends the previous christmas, and Fred had been obsessed with it since they had gotten it. He took every opportunity to take a photo of her, and that was a lot of the time.

"Fred, I look awful." She groaned.

"Awfully gorgeous, my love, now stand still for a moment, will you?" He asked, smiling when she had sighed though leaned against the wall and kept still. He raised the camera to his eye, a fond smile crossing his lips at the beauty he was met with - the orange glow of the evening light casting over her exposed skin, making her look like an angel. "Beautiful." He complimented once he had snapped the picture, watching as it was printed at the top of the camera.

"Thank you." She smiled almost bashfully. "Can I get dressed now, love?"

~

Think I like you best when you're dressed in black from head to toe

Think I like you best when you're just with me

And no one else

~

Fred always thought she was beautiful. The word ugly or unattractive just wasn't in his vocabulary whenever she was around. Every outfit looked good on her, every colour looked good on her - though his favourite colour on her had to be black. To Fred, it was the colour that made her features stand out the most. It made her eyes seem brighter than ever before. It made her hair shine and almost glow whenever it was under any sort of light. It made every beauty mark and freckle stand out. It made him fall in love with her even more, if that were possible. 

Though Y/N didn't always see that, and for the life of him Fred couldn't understand why. She was so beautiful and he thought that it was so obvious, but to her it wasn't.

"Freddie?" She had asked him once from their bedroom, whilst he had been in the kitchen cooking dinner. "Can you come in here for a moment? I need to ask you something."

Fred frowned, noticing almost a hint of nervousness in her voice, though he was almost stunned when he walked into the bedroom and saw what she was wearing. She was dressed in a vintage style button-down  black dress, that had a neckline that dipped down low enough so that he could see her collarbones and the top part of her chest, and was short enough so that he could see above her knees to her mid-thigh.

"Do you think this looks alright?" She asked, looking at herself in their bedroom mirror, turning to different angles as she frowned at herself critically. "I got it for that party we're going on but I'm not too sure about it."

Fred shook his head, moving over to stand behind her and moved his arms around her waist, tucking her head underneath his chin as he met her gaze in the mirror. "You look beautiful, darling." He said softly, gently squeezing her in his hold. "You could never look anything less than gorgeous, okay?" 

He watched as she smiled bashfully and nodded her head, looking at herself in the mirror again as she leaned against him. "Thank you, Freddie."

"It's no problem, love." He smiled softly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss against her neck as she closed her eyes and sighed in content.

~

Kristen, come right back

I've been waiting for you to slip back in bed

When you light the candle

~

Fred groaned as he collapsed back onto the bed, watching as Y/N moved across the room to light a few of the many candles she had collected over time. "You're not leaving me for those bloody candles again, are you?" He huffed, watching her, in nothing but her underwear, light the candles like he'd seen her do many times.

"Hey!" She whined, pouting as she turned to look down at him. "Candles are romantic. And they smell nice."

"I'm romantic and I smell nice, what's your point?" He asked with a small smirk, only getting a scoff in return. "Darling come back, I want you now." He groaned overdramatically, flopping back over the bed with a loud sigh.

"You have a left hand, don't you?" She asked, raising her eyebrows. "Use it if you're that impatient." She giggled when turning and seeing his bewildered expression, as he had definitely not expected that sentence to leave her mouth so casually.

"Okay, that's it." Fred moved to get up and crossed the bedroom to be standing behind her, before he wound his arms around her waist and picked her up.

"Fred!" She giggled the complaint as he carried her across the bedroom towards the bed. "No wait, I didn't finish lighting the candles!"

He simply ignored her and gently tossed her onto the bed, which caused her to laugh a lot harder as he got onto the bed and situated himself over her.

"Oh yeah, that's terribly romantic, Freddie." She teased with another giggle as she pushed some of his hair out of his eyes.

"Oh, just shut up and kiss me, will you?"

~

And I'm kissing you lying in my room

Holding you until you fall asleep

~

Fred adored every single aspect of being with Y/N. He could spend the whole day in one of her hugs, or dancing with her, or even just talking with her. And maybe he was a little biased considering he loved her to the moon and back anyways, but everything about her just pulled him in deeper and deeper, like a siren leading a sailor into the deep dark waters. Though one of his favourite moments with her was probably when they shared lazy kisses, whether that was first thing in the morning or the last thing at night. If it was the latter, then that usually entailed after-sex kisses, which Fred adored as much as the sex itself. There was nothing better than soft and light kisses after deep and passionate ones had been shared.

Y/N sighed into Fred's mouth as he rolled them over so she was underneath him, peppering her flushed and sweaty skin with light kisses once he had pulled away, nothing in contrast to what he had previously been leaving against her skin.

"I love you." Fred whispered against her pink cheek, before tilting his head to capture her lips in a soft and gentle kiss, despite it's lightness, still managed to take Fred's breath away.

"I love you too." She smiled softly, and when Fred pulled away enough to look at her he could see her eyes were half closed, and he could see how tired she was.

In one careful movement Fred rolled off of her and curled his arm around her waist, pulling her smaller frame into his larger one so her back would be flush against his chest. He felt her body relax against his as he pulled the covers over the both of them, and tightened his arm around her waist subtly.

"Night Freddie." She whispered, her eyes closing when Fred had left a gentle kiss against her exposed shoulder.

"Goodnight, darling." He whispered, leaving another kiss against her skin before relaxing against the pillows, holding her until she fell asleep.

~

And it's just as good as I knew it would be

Stay with me I don't want you to leave

~

Fred often found himself staying up longer than Y/N, though he loved those moments he got to admire her beauty in it's rawest form. He thought she was absolutely stunning, inside and out, and really couldn't have asked for a better person to spend the rest of his life with. Of course, back in Hogwarts when he was crushing on her like crazy, he often imagined what it would be like to be with her intimately. He imagined late night walks by the lake, candlelit dinners, late nights up talking. He had thought at that moment in time that nothing could possibly be better than that. Though he was so so wrong, because the real thing was so much better. She was so much better than whatever version of her he had imagined. Sure, she was probably the best friend he could have asked for in Hogwarts, though her friendship was absolutely nothing compared to her love.

That was one of many reasons why in the bottom of Fred's bedside table was a small red velvet box in, with a small silver diamond ring in. He wanted her to be his forever and he wanted to be her's. He never wanted her to leave.

~

Kristen, come right back

I've been waiting for you to slip back in bed

When you light the candle

#Spotify #amber’s 300 followers writing challenge #Harry Potter #Harry Potter imagine #Harry Potter one shot #Harry Potter oneshot #Harry Potter fic #Harry Potter fluff #Fred Weasley #Fred Weasley imagine #Fred Weasley oneshot #Fred Weasley one shot #Fred Weasley fic #Fred Weasley fluff #Fred Weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred and george weasley

[weighty-ghosts]

‘Stolen Kisses’ (wolfstar)

Stolen Kisses, by weightyghosts

“It felt like there was a constant tension in the air, an anticipation, like they were hanging in the balance, waiting for something to push them in the right direction. The problem was, Remus didn’t know which direction was the right one.”

Rating: Teen

Word count: 2706

Pairing: Remus x Sirius

Published: March 3, 2021

Warnings: None

 https://archiveofourown.org/works/29811711

     “I can’t believe you’ve never let us visit before!”

“He’s been keeping the muggles all to himself, I tell you.”

“The height of betrayal!”

Remus rolled his eyes at his ridiculous friends as they strolled down the main road of the quaint village near his family’s house, feeling lazy and languid with the summer sun beating down on them.

“Muggles are brilliant,” James stated, his voice full of wonder as he stared with open fascination at everything there was to see. “I mean, look, look!” He stopped to point at the window of an appliance store, and Sirius peeked curiously over his shoulder, “What even is that?”

“It’s a dishwasher, James,” Remus patiently informed him.

“Wow… Brilliant, I tell you! The things muggles invent!”

“James!” Remus admonished as James’ voice had been rising to a shout, “Keep it down! What was rule #3 when I said you could visit?”

James looked back at him sheepishly and the three boys recited the third rule Remus had laid out in his last letter to them.

“‘Don’t break the International Statute of Secrecy and force the Ministry to obliviate my neighbours,’” they quoted in chorus.

“That’s right,” Remus nodded, “Now behave or I won’t show you the toy store.”

“No, ” Peter whined, “I want to find out what a kazoo is!” 

James blinked at Peter, then leaned in to Sirius to ask under his breath, “The bloody hell is a kazoo?” 

“Merlin if I know,” Sirius shrugged, “Wormtail?”

“I just said I don’t know!” 

“We’ll be good, Moony,” Sirius said to Remus with an angelic smile as they set off again down the street, “Don’t worry.”

There were a lot of things Remus had worried about when James had insisted he, Sirius, and Peter were coming to stay at the Lupin’s for a week in August, but getting into trouble wasn’t one of them; he knew it would happen regardless. Remus was more concerned about Sirius. More specifically, his inescapable feelings for Sirius.

Something had changed over the course of their sixth year at Hogwarts, and at first Remus thought it was a result of what Sirius had done the year prior; their friendship was strained and rocky for a long time afterwards, but eventually, it somehow brought them closer. The closer they got, the more Remus realized just how different his relationship with Sirius was than with anyone else. 

By the end of last term, Remus could hardly stand to be alone with him. It felt like there was a constant tension in the air, an anticipation, like they were hanging in the balance, waiting for something to push them in the right direction. The problem was Remus didn’t know which direction was the right one. 

“Let’s stop in here,” he said suddenly, desperate for a distraction, and gestured to a corner store they were walking by. “I’ll get us some lemonades.”

“Thank Merlin, it’s hot as dragon’s breath out here,” Peter complained, pulling on the collar of his shirt to try and get some air on his skin.

Remus held the door to the shop open as the others shuffled through, and Sirius winked at him as he passed. “Such a gentleman, Moony.”

“Who said chivalry is dead?” Remus replied, walking in after him, and if Remus’ cheeks were a little pink, it must have been from the sun; certainly not from Sirius winking at him.

Peter and James had quickly disappeared down one of the aisles, and Remus found himself wandering around with Sirius.

“Do you actually know what all this stuff is?” Sirius inquired, squinting at the muggle items on the shelves.

“Yes,” Remus laughed, “Of course.” There was something tugging at his heart at the sight of Sirius in such mundane surroundings; he was so out of place here, with his magic practically radiating off of him, and yet, Remus felt like it suited him, like he could naturally fit in if he wanted to. 

“I reckon James was wrong,” Sirius mused, breaking through Remus’ thoughts, as he reached out to pick something up from a shelf. “I think muggles are barmy. I mean, who would ever want beans in a can?” He showed the can to Remus as if it were an offensive old shoe. “Or corn! Why is there corn in a can, Moony?”

Remus couldn’t help the bubbles of laughter that escaped him as Sirius showed him more and more banal pieces of muggle life.

“No!” Sirius gasped, “No, tell me I’m not looking at canned tuna!”

Remus swallowed his giggles and adopted a somber demeanor, “I wouldn’t want to lie to you.” 

“Moony! That is horrifying! How does a fish even fit in that tiny thing? This is absolute madness.”

“I know you’re used to food magically appearing in front of you, Padfoot,” Remus mocked, his voice dripping with condescension, “Literally by magic, but the other half of the world has to cook it for themselves.”

“I know that!” he cried indignantly, then raised his chin in the air, “I know all about cooking, thank you. James’ mum and I cooked scones the other day.”

“Baked. You baked scones.”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s what I said, but aren’t you impressed?”

“I am,” Remus acknowledged, pretending to focus on a box of candy rings, “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Moony.”

Remus stilled and looked back at Sirius, who seemed to be standing closer to him than a moment ago. There was something about the way he spoke that made Remus think they were talking about two different things.

“Really,” Remus quipped, trying to keep his voice steady, “You think after six and a half years I don’t know everything about you?”

“I know you don’t.”

“You’re saying there are hidden depths to Sirius Black?” Remus certainly felt as if he were losing his footing and tumbling into those same depths.

“I can’t help that I’m a complex, intriguing person, Moony,” Sirius purred, his head tilted to the side.

“I suppose-”

“LADS!”

They jumped a foot in the air as James whipped around the corner with Peter in tow. Remus noticed Sirius taking a significant step backwards; he hadn’t realized they’d been leaning in so close together.

“What is it, Prongs?” Sirius asked with a smile on his face, though it seemed a little forced.

“Have you seen the crisps aisle?”

“No, we were busy looking at cans of fish.”

“What? That’s nasty- no,” James cringed but shook the unpleasant image out of his head and rallied with enthusiasm, “You have to come see all the different kinds of crisps. Pads, remember crisps? Remember we had them last summer?”

“I remember.”

“There’s a barbecue flavour! I don’t even know what barbecue is but I have to taste it! Come on!”

Sirius sent a quick smile Remus’ way and let James tug him back to the wonder that was the crisps aisle. Peter also smiled at Remus (he was always happy when James was happy), and they followed the other two boys, drawn by the excited noises they were making. Well, James was making.

“Salt and vinegar, Pads! We have to try it. Get one of each-”

“You should send some to Lily!” Peter suggested eagerly, then dropped his voice, “She’s muggleborn; I bet she loves crisps.”

James dropped the bags he was holding and grabbed Peter’s face, planting a big, sloppy kiss on each of his cheeks, much to his delight.

“Brilliant, Pete! Yes! We’ll get one of each for us, and one of each for Lily-”

“Er...James?” Remus asked hesitantly, “How are you planning on paying for all that? Did you bring any muggle money?”

James’ face fell like Remus had just told him his favourite broom had been smashed to pieces.

“I left it in my bag at your place. Oh, no! This is a disaster.”

“Relax, mate,” Sirius placated, then turned to Remus, “Can’t we take the stuff now and come back with the money later?”

“It doesn’t work like that,” Remus chuckled, shaking his head at Sirius’ ignorance. 

“Well…” Sirius was looking at James’ dejected face, and Remus could see the cogs in his mind turning, thinking of possible solutions to their problem. “We could-”

“No hexing the shopkeeper!” Remus quickly interjected, peering over the shelves to the middle-aged woman reading a magazine behind the cash register.

“Alright, alright,” Sirius rolled his eyes, “We’ll just have to come back later, eh James?”

“I guess,” James sighed dramatically.

“But in the meantime…” Sirius paused meaningfully, and James’ eyes began to light up at the mischievous grin on Sirius’ face, “How about a game?” Remus groaned inwardly and prayed that whatever plan he was concocting didn’t involve breaking the law; muggle or magic.

“I dare you to knick something,” Sirius challenged.

Remus should have known better.

“Knick what?” James asked, his calculating eyes darting to the items around them.

“Anything. But just one item.”

“Done,” James accepted easily, “But you have to do it too.”

“Done.”

“Wormy? Moony? Care to join in?”

Sirius laughed. “As if Moony is going to steal-”

“I’m in,” Remus announced. He smiled at Sirius’ dumbfounded expression as James convinced Peter, and Remus leaned in closer to him to whisper, “I’m a complex and intriguing person too, Padfoot. There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

He watched as Sirius’ eyes flicked down to his mouth, and Remus bit his bottom lip as his stomach contracted with a sudden, almost painful intensity.

“Alright!” James pronounced loudly, and Remus and Sirius jumped apart again, “Off you go, and let’s meet in the alley beside that dish-cleaner-”

“Dishwasher.”

“-Dishwasher shop,” James finished, and immediately snatched up a small bag of crisps, shoved it under his shirt, and skipped out of the store while thanking the shopkeeper for her excellent service. 

Remus and Peter were left staring at the closing door with their mouths agape. 

Sirius was smirking with pride and amusement, then turned to Peter. “Go on, Wormy,” Sirius nudged him, “Do it quickly before the nice muggle lady gets suspicious and calls the muggle Aurors on you.”

Peter gulped audibly, sweat starting to drip down his temples, and turned frantically down the next aisle.

“I don’t know why I’m friends with you, honestly.”

Sirius grinned at Remus. “Because life is always interesting when I’m around, Moons.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Remus teased, his stomach doing another flip at the other boy’s brilliant smile. They began to meander through the shop as nonchalantly as possible, and again Remus felt like he was standing at a crossroads with Sirius; torn between two paths, two possible directions with two different outcomes, and someone had to make a choice before it was too late.  

“So,” Sirius stopped abruptly and turned to face Remus, “Have you decided?”

“What?” Remus asked sharply, having a wild thought that Sirius had somehow read his mind.

“Have you decided what you’re going to knick?”

“Oh, right, maybe-”

“You going to pay for that, then?”

Sirius and Remus swiftly stood on their tiptoes to look over to where Peter was frozen in front of the door to the shop, beet red, with a package of black licorice sticking out of his back pocket. The woman was leaning casually over the cash register, gazing at Peter with a mixture of exasperation and entertainment. 

“I-I’m sorry!” Peter squeaked, as he whipped the licorice out and threw it on the counter, “I’m sorry! I don’t want- I’m not- I- Sorry!” And he ran out the door. 

Sirius burst out laughing, and Remus tried to shush him so as not to draw attention, although he knew the woman was already watching them closely.

“Hush, Sirius!” Remus' voice shook as he tried to contain his own laughter.

“Poor Pete,” Sirius crowed, wiping a fake tear from his eye, “He’s never very good under pressure is he?”

“You are a terrible person.”

“Good thing you love me anyway,” he grinned. 

Remus watched as Sirius realized what he’d said, his cheeks flushing pink and his smile wavering, and he tried to lean coolly against a shelf of sweets. Remus wished he knew what to say, although he was pretty sure his throat was closing up on him so he wouldn’t have been able to anyway. They stood awkwardly looking at their feet, waiting again, waiting for a push in the right direction.

“You know, it’s now or never, Moony.”

Remus’ head whipped up and he stared into Sirius’ striking eyes.

“N-now or never?” 

“Yeah, you better choose quick,” Sirius explained, his voice low, and Remus once again felt as if they were talking about something else. “What are you doing to take, Moony?” 

Remus didn’t have to ask Sirius what he would steal; he had snatched up Remus’ heart long ago. With that realization, he knew what to do; Remus had to be the one to choose which direction was right, and he had to be the one to push them towards it.

He glanced around them for a moment, then slowly stepped up in front of Sirius, bringing them almost toe to toe. He reached forward, his eyes sliding from Sirius’ to the shelf over his shoulder, and he heard Sirius’ breath catch as he leaned close, close enough to feel the warmth from each other’s bodies, and smell the sweat on each other’s skin. 

Remus was acutely aware of Sirius’ eyes on him as he kept moving until they were almost cheek to cheek, and he turned his head at the last second, capturing Sirius’ lips in a quick kiss that tasted like honey and summer.

He pulled back, grinning at Sirius’ shocked face, and turned away abruptly, leaving Sirius standing there stunned. He floated over to the refrigerators, feeling like he was flying on the fastest of brooms, and grabbed four lemonades. He brought them to the counter, where the woman eyed him with suspicion, before smiling knowingly when Remus overpaid for the drinks and told her to keep the change. 

Sirius, still slightly dazed, followed Remus out of the shop and around the corner to the alley where James and Peter were waiting. Peter was leaning against the wall, trying to calm his breathing, and James was patting his shoulder comfortingly, biting his cheek to try and stop from laughing.

“He’ll be fine,” James reassured.

“Have a lemonade, Pete,” Remus said, holding one out to him, which Peter accepted gratefully. Remus handed a bottle to James, then to Sirius, who blinked up at him as he accepted his drink, his face soft and vulnerable.

“So?” James inquired, “What’d you steal, then?” 

“Er,” Sirius cleared his throat and looked over at James, “Muggle chewing gum.” 

“Nice. And you, Moony?”

Sirius glanced at Remus nervously, but Remus simply put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a chocolate bar, holding it up for them to see, smiling wryly.

“Ha!” James laughed, “Of course.” He threw his arm around Peter to steady him, and guided him out of the alley, muttering affirmations as they started down the street towards the toy shop Remus had promised to take them to.

“When did you grab that?” Sirius quietly asked when they were alone, walking at a distance from the other two.

“When I was stealing something else.”

He looked over at Sirius to see him smiling almost shyly, something Remus had rarely seen before, and he knew he would never tire of it; that private smile, one that was just for him. 

“It can’t have been better than the chocolate you swiped, though,” Sirius quipped.

“It might’ve been,” he teased.

“Probably difficult to compare,” Sirius tapped his chin thoughtfully, his eyes full of mischief, “When you only had a quick taste... Sounds like we should do a more thorough test, Moony.” 

“Yeah,” Remus agreed, his mind reeling and cheeks flushing at the implications, “Yeah, I think we should, Padfoot”

Remus brushed his hand against Sirius’, leaving a tingling sensation along his skin as they hurried to catch up to James and Peter. He was warm all over, not just from the brilliant sun high above them, and couldn’t wipe the smile off his face, feeling confident that the path he was finally leading them down was the right one.

*

#wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #ficbyweightyghosts #wolfstar fluff #fanfic #marauders #padfoot x moony #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #peter pettigrew #summer boys #boys in love #first kiss #harry potter

[sarcastich]

Crown Made Of Barbwire

Everyone got their wings, sooner or later.

Feathers of every color, size, variation.

They start as two little bumps on your back, itching like a growing tooth, around the same time you hit puberty. A bit earlier for girls, a bit later for boys. They grow over the course of your teenage years, and stop once all their feathers have reached their full size.

Some people could fly with their wings, some couldn’t. Most people’s wings were two meters on each side when they were outstretched.

Peter’s wings had only taken two years to grow fully, and were beautiful, pure-white angel wings.

He’d never seen anyone with wings like his. All the other white wings were more like snow owls, speckled with browns and grays, or had underlying colors that gave the top feathers a tint.

He couldn’t quite fly with them, but they were perfect for gliding. He’d scale the tallest buildings in his area, and get a running jump off of them, plummeting for a moment before he got pulled up and flew around the neighborhood until his wings got tired. Of course, you couldn’t just fly anywhere whenever you wanted to. You needed permits, licenses, there were laws to uphold. Most people preferred staying on the ground, anyway.

But not everyone got to keep their feathered wings.

Peter had always heard stories of the burnt ones.

His aunt used it as a reason for him to be good, or when his friends were yelling about seeing criminals they’d allegedly seen out ‘n about.

“-Eat your greens or your wings will burn right off, Pete”

“-I’m telling you, man! His wings were all black and torn up, I’m not kidding!”

They were the result of corruption, evil, immorality, and sin. Once soft feathers scorched, charred, and turned into soot. They blackened and burned away, turning into a shadow of their past wonder, skeletal and black.

Peter had never imagined that one day he’d be standing at the Four Seasons, shooting photos for The Bugle, trying to get a good shot of the Tony Stark.

Peter was among the crowd of journalists and other photographers, rapidly clicking away, aiming his camera lens at Stark. Reporters were yelling out questions, waving wired microphones and recorders over the barrier between them and the walkway Tony Stark was walking down.

There was something about his wings that set them apart from a normal burnt set. Most CEOs, businessmen or just rich, successful, famous people had burnt wings.

But Tony Stark’s weren’t just burnt.

They had horns cascading from the tips to the forearms. The burning away of the pure white feathers had revealed bat-like structures. Stark had no idea why, or how. That was just how they were. Or so he’d told the public.

Peter’s breath caught in his throat when Stark focused on him, looking into his camera and flashing a well-practiced smile. Peter fumbled for a moment before he looked through the viewfinder and took several photos.

And again, he’d never imagined that he’d get a personal request for a photoshoot, by the Tony Stark.

He packed his camera bag with shaky hands, taking extra drives and lenses.

His boss had pulled him aside earlier that morning, and told him that Stark had reached out and asked for Mr. Parker to be the one present and in charge of the interview’s photos. Peter, of course, had accepted in a second. He’d be an idiot to decline. Tony Stark’s picture on his portfolio? What kind of artist would he be if he said no?

Peter stepped out of the glass lobby of The Bugle offices half an hour later and looked up from his phone, his camera bag slung over his shoulder. He was wearing a deep red sweater over a white collared shirt, the front tucked into his soft beige dress pants. He hoped his outfit wasn’t too casual for the occasion, but he didn’t really have time to change anyway.

Just as he looked away from the screen, a sleek black car pulled up in front of him. The driver’s window rolled down.

“Peter Parker?” the driver, a roundish man, asked.

“Y-yeah- yes!”

The man jerked his head towards the back seat door.

“Get in, kid.”

Peter did as told, nervously sliding into the car, barely moving when he sat on the leather seat, hugging his bag.

“Wh- Where’re we going-?” His voice came out a lot squeakier than he’d meant for it to.

“Stark Industries Tower, where else?”

Almost an hour later, the car stopped in front of the blue, glass building. The driver got out and opened Peter’s door. He hadn’t moved since he’d gotten in.

Getting out of the car and almost forgetting his bag, he mumbled, most of his attention drawn by the tall tower.

“Thank you- uh, mister- um-”

“Hogan. Happy Hogan.”

“Yes! Thanks!”

With a nod, he closed the car door and got back in, driving off. Peter took a deep breath, held his bag properly again and started towards the building.

After a short chat with one of the three receptionists, he was led to an elevator a bit farther away from the general area of the entry. He and a shorter woman entered the lift. Judging from her formal attire, Peter guessed she was an assistant. Her wings were far smaller than his own, made up of light blue feathers with streaks of royal blue. He kept his own wings contracted to offer her enough room in the small space.

“Friday, take us to the penthouse, and please let Mr. Stark know that Mr. Parker will be arriving shortly.”

Peter looked at her, confused until a soft tone went off and the elevator started its ascent.

She smiled at him before he let out a soft “Oh-” and averted his gaze.

With another soft tone, the lift stopped and she gestured for him to step out.

“Thanks-”, he started to say, but the elevator door was already closing behind him.

The elevator had opened to something like a living room area. Two sleek, white sofas were facing the rounded glass walls, with an ornate sculpture between them that looked like five giant bowls stacked on top of each other. Everything Peter could see was modern and minimal, with a white-gray aesthetic throughout the penthouse.

He looked around nervously, holding on to his bag by the shorter strap.

“Mr. Parker, welcome.”

Peter gasped and turned around with a jump, startled.

“M-Mr. Stark! Y-yes, hi, I’m Peter Parker, I-I’m here for the Bugle interview shoot?” He inwardly cringed at how he sounded, stuttering, his voice a lot higher than it usually was, clutching his bag for dear life.

Stark smirked at him. “I know, kid, calm down.” He gestured towards the sofas. “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

Peter stuttered out a thank you, and sat down at the far end of one. He kept his wings close to his body, feeling like he was taking up too much space, still hugging his bag to his chest. He looked up shyly, taking Stark in properly. His wings were relaxed as he walked to the sofa facing Peter, sitting down comfortably.

“Are you afraid of me, Mr. Parker?”

“N-No sir. I mean, you’ve obviously done s-some- uh-.. Not so great things- but uhm- You’re an icon, people admire you-”

“Would you like anything to drink?” Stark cut him off, motioning to the minibar that had very literally risen from the ground.

Peter stuttered out, “Oh- N-No, thank you, I can’t drink on the job-”

Stark poured himself two fingers of whiskey in a lowball glass, without ice, and gently pushed down the top of the minibar, and it reclined back into the floor, looking like another dark grey ceramic tile.

He took a sip, eyes trained on Peter.

Peter cleared his throat, relaxing a bit. “So, where d’you think would be best for the uhm- the shots-?”

They talked about light placement, the conversation somehow dragging over to technology and science, Peter engaging a lot more, and forgetting his nervousness eventually.

After about an hour, they got up, Peter set up his camera, and took his photos.

A behind-shot of Tony Stark with his hands tucked into his pants pockets, wings stretched out behind him. A side profile, while buttoning his suit, and various other shots.

Peter was on his knees, getting a photo of one of Tony Stark’s iconic shades on a small table, the city line stretching out behind it.

Stark had excused himself to take a call, and told Peter to take photos of anything that he wanted. Peter didn’t hear him step back into the room, too focused on trying to set his camera’s shutter speed. Stark quietly took long strides to him, stepping in front of the table.

“Oh, Mr. Stark-! I just wanted to take a shot of the glasses, they’re-”

He stammered into silence as Mr. Stark softly ran the back of his finger along his cheek. He held it under Peter’s chin, tilting his head up. Peter was blushing furiously, but couldn't make himself look away.

“Let me see your wings, angel.”

Three months later, Peter’s life had changed drastically.

He was decked out in the latest designer clothes, a skinny white Etro strap top to match his wings, baby blue Dolce & Gabbana shaded glasses perched on this nose, sitting by a marbled kitchen counter, a Valentino white leather clutch bag resting on it, and inspecting his manicured nails.

A man in an obsidian black suit entered the room, buttoning his jacket and running a hand through his hair, smirking.

“Ready, angel?”

Peter looked up, a cheeky smile on his lips. Wings fluttering, he slid off his high stool and made his way to him. He straightened Tony’s tie and pecked his nose.

“Yes, daddy.”

He leaned away, but Tony let out a growl, grabbing Peter by his waist and pulling him flush against his body.

Peter gasped, “You’ll ruin my outfit!”

“Angel, I bought it.”

Peter pouted, “Well yeah, but you gave it to me”

“I’ll buy you a new one, you spoilt brat.”

Peter giggled and cupped Tony’s face, looking into his eyes and leaning into his touch. “Y’know I love you, Tones.”

They kissed softly, Tony not letting go of his vice grip on Peter’s waist.

“Tony, we’re gonna be late... I want you to check the set up one last time-”

“Angel, I had you set things up. I trust you.”

Earlier that day, Peter had gone to the hotel’s restaurant on the top floor, under a different name and reservation. He’d checked the entire place for wires, mics, or anything that could put them in any sort of bad situation. He checked exit points, weak spots, and all the cameras. He’d been thorough.

He had taped a Glock 9 mm handgun underneath their side of the table, checking repeatedly to make sure it was fully loaded and had its safety off.

Peter grumbled a bit, before letting go of Tony, dramatically sighing, rolling his eyes and picking up his handbag from the counter.

“Well, we should get going anyway.”

Tony shot him a wolfish grin before grabbing his wrist and pulling him back.

“You missed something, i mio angelo.”

He tilted his head to the counter, a navy blue felt box sitting on it now. Peter was surprised. He knew it was a jewelry box, but he hadn’t asked for anything, and even though Tony loved showering him with gifts, there was usually some silly occasion he used as an excuse for it.

He curiously looked at the box, wondering what it was. Something beautiful, no doubt.

“Go on then, Angel, it’s yours.”

Peter stepped back up to the counter and set down his bag on the nearest stool. He pulled the box closer to himself before glancing at Tony, who was smirking at him, arms crossed against his chest.

He slowly opened it, keeping his eyes on Tony until the lid was completely vertical.

His eyes flicked down to the box, and he took in a sharp gasp, hands flying to cover his mouth. “Tony, you didn’t!”

Tony’s smirk grew into a full grin again as Peter rushed around the counter to kiss him, cradling the box in his arms, even though he could easily just hold it in one hand.

“Of course I did, mia carissimo.”

Tony took the box from Peter’s hands, setting it down on the counter. He pulled out the choker he’d gotten for his princess, with Round Brilliant cut, D rate diamonds in the center of Cushion cut diamonds arranged like figure eights.

Peter lightly grazed his own neck with his fingertips, already feeling the weight on his neck, even though he hadn’t touched the jewels yet. Tony held up the necklace.

“May I have the honor?”

Peter silently turned his back to Tony, holding his head high. Tony pressed a kiss to the back of Peter’s bare neck and gently ran his hand through Peter’s feathers, making him shudder before placing the necklace on his neck and fastening the tiny clasp. It didn’t have a chain at the end, it had a specific size. Peter’s size.

Half an hour later, Tony held the passenger door of his Audi R8 Spyder open and led Peter out, Peter giving him his hand like a princess, to the entry of the hotel. There was no swarming press, just the coming and going of guests of the hotel.

Handing his keys over to a valet, Tony pressed a kiss to the back of Peter’s hand.

“Relax, angel.”

They walked into the lobby hand in hand, people stopping to stare at them every few feet. Even if they didn’t know who Tony Stark was, they’d stop to look at the man with the bat wings and the boy who looked like an angel.

They didn’t stop at the reception, they walked straight to the private elevator that led to the restaurant, Tony’s security detail already armed and ready at the top. Once they got there and had been patted down and checked for weapons by Osborn’s security, Tony walked them over to their table.

It overlooked the city skyline, winking lights dotting the land underneath them. He pulled out a chair for Peter, getting a soft smile in return. Sitting in the chair next to him, he held his hand again. Peter shot him a worried look.

Peter kept his voice low, “I thought you said he’d be here on time?”

“Princess, he’s only five minutes late. His detail’s here, he’ll be here, too.”

Peter toyed with the table’s centerpiece while they waited. After about ten minutes, Tony abruptly got up, rebuttoning his suit.

“C’mon bambino, we’re leaving.”

Before Peter could get up, there was a short yell and a loud muffled thump from the elevator.

The glass wall beside their table shattered, rapid shots taking out most of the security team. Tony yanked Peter down by his suit collar, looking out at the building in front to try and see the snipes. The elevator doors ominously opened, a man in black armour stepping out. His wings were plated with metal.

It all happened in the span of two seconds.

He shot the remaining guards before training his gun on Tony. Before he could get a word out, Peter pulled the gun he’d hidden earlier. In an instant, he cocked it and aimed for the man’s head.

The assassin had been a split second too late in aiming at Peter.

Peter fired.

The shooter fell to the floor, dead.

Peter dropped the gun, falling to his knees, a sudden hiss sounding behind him.

His wings had burst into flames.

He yelled out, pain blooming in his wings and along his back. Tears sprung from his eyes and ran down his face, ash falling around him, smoke rising behind him as Tony rushed to his knees beside him, holding him as he cried into Tony’s shoulder, his agonized screams muffled.

In the matter of minutes, his angelic wings were gone.

#starker #starker fic #starker moodboard #wings au #hope yall like it #gonna go cry now #reposting bc im a bit of an idiot

[spasmsofthought]

flashes. (dick grayson x reader)

I’m not really well-versed in DC, at all, but I wanted to give this a shot. let me know what you think! It’s a bit of a mess, so please take this with a grain of salt and some grace. sorry if he feels ooc; I tried my best but I am by no means an expert or even an amateur. please be kind. idk if i’ll write anymore for him, but i wanted to try. it might be trash but it’s out there now xo

-- 

It’s not like Gotham is known for being a walk in the park. The city is all alleys in the middle of the night, dark vapors rising from sewers, and secrets in the shadows. At least, in your experience. 

There were no gated communities or fences to keep the darkness out in the apartment complex you lived in with your family. Only survival and common sense keeps you returning to your bed and food on the table.

So, when your younger (genius) brother is offered a scholarship to Gotham Academy on what feels like a whim, the world shifts. 

When your mother still works, though, it means you are the de-facto adult during the day. Your job keeps your busy in the mornings, hers during the afternoon and night. You’re just getting into learning what it’s like to handle a job and bills of your own, even though you’re still living with your family (part of it is to save money, part of it is because you just don’t want to leave). Your family is the only real home you have ever known. Why leave to only find inadequate housing where you have to worry about your safety and theirs separately?

So, like every month, you swap out of your work clothes, put on your newest (at least 2 years old) pair of jeans on, the only blouse you own that hasn’t faded or stretched or shrunk from countless wash cycles, and grab the bag you’ve stored in its own special place in the cabinet by your family’s loud, old, run-down fridge. 

You chance a ride on the bus, hopeful for no public catastrophes today. You listen to your small, but loved, playlist through the one earbud that works during the ride and you almost want to leap with joy when you step back down on concrete like this is what it is like everyday.

The architecture is a thing to behold. There is no wonder why this is acclaimed as the most prestigious private school in Gotham. Light is everywhere, and it’s like the outside world doesn’t exist. Every month you step on this campus it’s like you’ve never seen it before.

The grounds are meticulously groomed, everything in lines and straight edges. Concrete and nineteenth century buildings both cast heavy, sharp shadows in the late afternoon sun. There are some students lingering about, all grouped up and chattering in their similar uniforms. Compared to public art, haphazard graffiti, and buildings of all shapes and sizes, this place feels foreign. Different. It makes you feel strange and unwelcome; like entering a different world altogether. 

When you enter the pristine, elegant office, the entrance door propped open, there’s two figures you immediately spot: the secretary and the man standing in front of her. Your brother is yet to be found. He’s running late again. 

“Hi, hun, take a seat,” Grace’s sweet voice soothes from her position behind the desk. “He should be here any minute.” The man standing in front and a little to the right of her glances behind for second, casually swiping a look at you, before he turns forward again. 

“Thanks, Grace,” You exhale as you sit down. 

The chairs are nice, soft fabric and cushioned, but small. You so desire to bring up a leg to draw close to you, but it’s impossible without making yourself a human pretzel. And you don’t want to dirty it with your less than perfect shoes so, instead, you chose to bring the bag onto your lap and you pick at your cuticles, resisting to bring your nail to your mouth and chew on it anxiously. 

There’s never been anyone else in here when you’ve come before. Grace can make polite chatter, but then she leaves you in relative silence. It makes you feel anonymous. The man uttering sweet words to the secretary and then glancing at you again before sitting down next to you does not. You stop fidgeting with your hands and intertwine them together instead. 

A flash of the ceiling’s fluorescent lighting on glass against your eyes is what you first get a taste of, then all polish and silver, or something like it, cradling a wrist. The watch looks heavy, expensive. It looks like it could buy your family a newer, safer, apartment in a suburbia far away from here. 

“Hey,” Smooth as honey it drips out, and you are drawn to blue eyes and ebony hair. There’s a softness to his face and his eyes are warm. It would only take an hour, you think before you stop the thought from going any further. An hour to do what? You’re not sure, but the list expands the longer you take him in.

The first thing you ever learned on the streets when you walked by yourself to work was how to be aware, vigilant; on guard. Men were unpredictable creatures who were driven by greed or lust or power, and any of the good ones were swooped up and carried away to better things or dead before any second glances could take place. Or carrying on just fine behind their high fences and impenetrable walls. Just because this one introduces himself first does not mean he has proven otherwise. 

“Hi,” is all you can offer, a quirk of lips to his gesture of kindness.

You glance towards to door before your eyes make their way back to him. The gesture doesn’t offend him. There’s a familiarity to his face, but you decide to not spend time right now trying to figure it out. It already only tells you one thing: this guy is way out of your league. 

Grace gets up from her seat, rounds her desk, and makes her way out of the office, leaving you two alone. You watch her the entire time. 

“You waiting for someone?” 

“Yeah,” You nod even as the word comes out, “My brother.” 

He leans back like he’s got all the time in the world, and there’s a perusal that makes you taste butterflies and gulp down caution at the same time. You wonder if he saw the scuff marks and stains on your worn-out sneakers, or if he notices that you still haven’t had the chance to wash your three-day old hair and that’s why it’s up and back, and that your blouse is definitely from the clearance rack at Goodwill.

“Your favorite one?” 

Out of self-preservation, you try to hide the reaction to the humor you feel, “My only one.”

“I think that’s the same thing.” You almost want to roll your eyes. But there’s a genuineness in his conversation, like he means the words he’s saying to you. Like this isn’t a game. 

“Sure,” You shrug, “You’re allowed to be wrong.” 

“My name’s Richard.” It’s old-fashioned. It’s something you don’t really hear rolled off of tongues in your neck of the woods, that’s for sure. A hand comes out and rests halfway between you and him, and it’s one of the most graceful things you’ve ever witnessed in your entire life. 

“It’s nice to meet you.” You smile. Your hands stay clasped in your lap. 

“You gotta earn a handshake from my sister,” A voice pops up from the open door way. You swing your head around and watch for a moment as your brother makes his way towards you.

“Hi, J,” Your stand, open your arms wide, bag moved from your lap into one of your hands. His solid presence allows a brief hug before he steps back again. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude--” 

The man sitting next to you has chosen to rise as well and you’re closer than you thought you would be when you turn back to him. You notice now that your height means your eyes literally meet his lips straight on. There’s a curve of a smirk there for a flash of a second before it straightens back out into the smile you saw at first. The rest of your sentence is forgotten. He takes one, two, three steps back.

“You got them all?” The question saves you. Your brother pulls you back to him as you hand him the brown plastic bag. In it? His favorite snacks from the liquor store on the corner (the nearly sold-out, hard-to-come-by ones). 

“Every last one,” Your hands come to his cheeks, turning his face to each side.

You have to reach up now and it strikes you just how much he’s grown even in the past month. You both spend much of your time on the phone with one another. These monthly meetings set-up frequently enough for deliveries and some quick face-to-face time and seldom enough to avoid embarrassment (that’s what he says anyway). 

He brings the chip bag out and holds it up, “You even got these.” 

“Geraldo got them special order just for you.” 

“Tell the old man I said thanks,” He smiles like he’s seven again, spoiled and self-indulgent. “Richard” is still standing behind you and to the side, silent. You can feel his eyes flipping back and forth between the two of you. 

“Of course,” Your hands smooth over his shoulders and brush away imaginary dust. “Mom sends her love and says she’ll try and call you on her lunch in a few hours.” 

“Yeah, I know. I’ll make sure I answer.” 

“Thank you.” You exhale an affectionate sigh. 

Avoidant loner that your brother can be, there’s a reason you both want him here. He’ll be able to do the things you only dreamed of when you were his age. And one day, hopefully, you’ll all be out of this hellhole, onto better things. 

“I gotta go, but thanks for these. Even though you should be saving every penny,” He chides, holding up a finger like his words are somehow a threat. 

“Okay,” You chortle like you wouldn’t give everything up for your brother in a heartbeat. There’s another quick hug before he’s looking back at the man behind you, who is still standing there like some sort of stealth ninja. 

“Like I said man,” He nods and there’s something in his face that changes as he looks at “Richard”, “You gotta earn it.” 

It’s with those parting words that he begins to walk out. You stay stock still for a second before you leap after him, “I wanna hear all about what happened last week with Cara tomorrow on the phone!” 

Your brother, a mile away already on longs legs, shouts something indistinguishable back at you from down the hallway, his figure turning a corner.  

“Who’s Cara?” The voice brings your back to reality. 

You sweep your palms against your jeans and turn back to face the man with a three-piece suit and a watch that probably costs more than 20 years of your salary. Oh God. 

“This girl my brother asked out the other week. I bribed him with some of his favorites so he would tell me what went down.” You shrug your shoulders, not worried about spilling the tea about your brother’s romantic life. 

“Does he know that?” His arms seem to relax a little more and you think you could stare at him all day. 

“Eh,” You say, creeping back towards the open door. Your small crossbody bag is already on you and there’s no reason to sit back down. Richard follows you as you, apparently, both start to make your exit from the office. Nothing about it feels unnatural. “Sometimes you got to persuade instead of demand.” 

“Ha,” There seems to be something you are missing based on the way his mouth curves and his eyes spark, “That’s the truest thing I’ve heard in a long time.” 

“You’re welcome. That’s the only one that comes for free!” Your arms swing back and forth. “Anything else is gonna cost you.” 

The hallways usually feel like a labyrinth here, but you don’t feel lost this time. 

“What forms of payment do you accept?” You pretend to be thinking, but really you’re just glancing between the different features of his face. You’re not sure you’ve ever met someone like him. You’re not sure you ever will again.  

“The bank’s closed right now, actually,” The wariness is back. This guy walks like he’s used to treading on perfectly paved gold streets in his shoes. All you’ve ever known is cracked cement and rusted pipes that burst underground. “But I think it’ll be back up and running soon.” 

He doesn’t falter and there’s no anger or hurt in his expression at the metaphorical rejection. Instead, it looks something like silent patience. Maybe even acceptance. This guy could totally not be interested and you could just be being (too) ambitious. The door to the open courtyard, and your way home, is already before you both. 

“It was nice meeting you Richard,” You say as you begin to take steps forward. Your hands nervously hold the strap across your torso. You take a few more steps before his words turn your head back to him. 

“You can call me Dick,” He says with ease. The tone makes you feel like he’s speaking a language you don’t really understand. His blue eyes seem like they’re on fire; a contradiction, you know. There’s something about him that almost makes you catch your breath. You’ve never been been winded by just looking before. 

“Maybe I’ll see you around.” You offer, hands squeezing your bag strap. 

“I look forward to earning that handshake next time!” He calls out when you’re several feet away. 

I think you’ll earn a lot more than that, you almost say, but refrain. 

Instead, you wave back to him once before making your way out of the courtyard, caught between staring at your shoes and looking ahead to make sure you’re going to right way. You smile and daydream the entire bus ride home. Blue becomes your favorite color. 

#help ive never written for dc before #i dont know what im doing #be nice please #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x oc #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x female!reader #richard grayson #richard grayson x reader #dick grayson oneshot #dick grayson preference #richard grayson oneshot #nightwing x you #nightwing x reader

[youngbeezer]

hi!! can I please request something?

going to a lake house, maybe friends to lovers with bowen byram?

thank you! 💗.

A/N: HI IM SO SORRY THIS LITERALLY TOOK 4 EVER!!! i was having such bad writer's block with also zero motivation, but i eventually put a little something together and i hope whoever requested this first off actually sees this bc seriously its been a good month of this sitting in my inbox but also i hope you like it :)

Word Count: 2940

Warning(s): kinda angsty in beginning, curse words, ends fluffy !!!

masterlist || join my taglist

These next few days is either going to turn out to be the best week of the summer, or the most awkward week of the summer...

I’m currently stuck in a car surrounded by couples on our way to a lake house in Colorado. Somehow I ended up being lumped into this chaotic group of professional hockey players and their drop-dead gorgeous significant others.

About a year ago at my local salon, I just so happened to be seated right next to a woman named Grace, who I immediately hit it off with. We became fast friends and are now basically inseparable at this point. Her boyfriend just so happens to play hockey for the Colorado Avalanche, Cale Makar. Now I have also grown quite close with Cale as well, since I am always at their shared apartment for Grace. At this point Cale is basically third wheeling us, instead of it being the other way around. Therefore I was also always invited to team parties and get-togethers, which prompted more friendships with most of the guys on the team and their respective partners.

Someone I have surprisingly grown super close with is Bowen Byram. As soon as Cale introduced us two, his blue eyes and raspy voice immediately drew me in. Straight away we bonded over common interests and that night we talked for almost three hours. After that, we were thick as thieves. So thick that recently I have come to the realization that I have caught major feelings for him along the way.

It has only been a few weeks since I have come to this realization and it has already started to affect our relationship. I definitely started to ignore Bowen a little bit when I first figured out my feelings because I was scared he would somehow find out or I would just end up blurting it out at some point. And the last thing I want is for my silly feelings to ruin such a great friendship.

Thus why this week can either turn out to be the best or the worst.

I’ve decided that at some point during this trip I need to confess my feelings for Bowen. He’s also seemed to notice the shift in my attitude towards him. I have become more closed off and not as touchy as we used to be. Bowen and I are both very touchy/feely types of people. So what seemed like just some harmless cuddling and play wrestling with each other, to me did very little to quell down my feelings.

For example, this morning when we were packing up the cars for the trip a group of us are taking to Tyson Jost’s lakehouse, Bowen went to wrap his arms around my middle from the back and I subconsciously flinched away at his touch. I know he definitely noticed my mood shift from the defiant pout that was resting on his face. After that I did what I do best, and ran away to the other car that was driving up and basically begged Nate to switch seats with me.

Which now leads to my current thoughts. The entire car ride up I have been contemplating on ways I could tell him, but each scenario just ended up with him telling me that he doesn’t feel the same, and our friendship essentially being over. Obviously I was just overthinking just a little, but I’ve never been stuck in a situation like this before-- and now we are going to be stuck in a lake house together for an entire week, so I am going to be forced to face this situation whether I want to or not.

“Yo. Earth to y/n?” Tyson draws, trying to gain my attention. I snap out of my thoughts as soon as I hear my name, and bring my gaze to the rearview mirror to meet Tyson’s questioning look. “We’re here.” He announces.

Susanna, Mikko’s girlfriend, adds on, “You alright? You seemed kind of out of it the entire car ride.”

I shake my head to try and clear my thoughts and notice that we are indeed here at the lake house we will be staying at for the next week. I clear my dried up throat before croaking out a weak, “Yeah, I’m fine. Just don’t like long car rides.”

Both of them nod, content with my answer and exit the car to join Mikko in unloading all of the luggage from the trunk. I take a few more moments to fully get my head together after dealing with all my jumbled thoughts throughout the entire three hour car ride.

Jumping out of the car, the first thing I see is Bowen letting out a yawn and stretching out. As his arms raise over his head, some of his shirt rises up with it and immediately my eyes are drawn to the small portion of skin and v-line that is in front of me. Bowen then notices my presence and makes eye contact with me, giving me one of his adorable little smiles. I advert my gaze as quickly as I can so my obvious ogling isn’t as obvious and go to finally retrieve my luggage.

Yeah this was gonna be a long week.

…

After everyone got pretty much all settled into their rooms, we all ended up coming back together to sit around the firepit to chat and enjoy some drinks. For this trip that Tyson orchestrated there are in total ten people staying in the house. Me, Tyson, obviously since it’s his house; Bowen, Cale, Grace, Alex Newhook, Mikko and his girlfriend Susanna, and lastly Nate and his supposed new girl who will be joining us later on in the week.

Apparently a group of the guys and their partners have been taking trips together at the end of the hockey season for a while now, and since growing closer with the team this year, I graciously got an invite.

Since it was getting later and a little bit more chilly, I grabbed a random sweatshirt that I saw already laying around in the living room before making my way outside to join everyone by the firepit. Getting closer I noticed that the only seat available just so happened to be next to Bowen.

Cale and Grace give each other a not so inconspicuous knowing look when they see me approaching. As soon as I sit down, a question is being thrown at me.

“Whose sweatshirt is that y/n?” Cale brings everyone's attention to me with a growing smirk on his face.

“I don’t know, I just found it in the living room.” I give Cale a questioning glare, trying to figure what his endgame is right now.

“It’s mine.” I hear that same raspy voice that I love and know so well. I feel my face start heating up at the idea of wearing Bowen’s sweatshirt. Am I wearing his name on my back right now, and I just didn’t even think to check earlier?

“Oh, uh. Sorry, I can give it back to you, if you want it.” I stumble out, now feeling awkward and a little embarrassed about how flustered I am getting over a simple sweatshirt.

Bowen gives me a little smile before replying back, “Nah, it’s fine. It looks better on you anyway.”

I clear my throat and stumble out an awkward ‘thanks’ at Bowen and then turn my attention to Grace right next to me so I don’t embarrass myself even more. What I don’t see though is the way Bowen's face immediately falls when I turn my back on him.

…

Around midnight is when everyone started to make their way back inside the house to start getting ready for bed. I was mindlessly scrolling through my social media, so I didn’t notice that mostly everyone had already gone inside.

“Y/n.” I look up at the mention of my name to notice that Bowen and I are the only ones left outside.

Also noticing the intense gaze I am receiving from Bowen, I quickly gather my things and stumble out, “Oh my gosh I didn’t notice everyone left already. I should head inside as well.”

Bowen is quicker though because he grabs ahold of my wrist, halting me in place before I make my very obvious escape.

“Hold on, please. Can you please talk to me?” Bowen pleads out.

“What do you mean? We’ve been talking all night.” I countered, trying one last time to get out of this conversation.

“We’ve been talking as a group all night yeah, but you couldn’t even make eye contact with me. You know what I mean. What’s been going on? Did I do something?” Bowen frowned.

At that moment I felt so guilty. I’ve been so focused on trying to ignore my feelings that I have developed that I ended up pushing my best friend away and hurting him in the process. I close my eyes and let out a deep breath. I knew I would eventually have to have this talk with Bowen during this week, but I just didn’t expect it to be on the very first night.

“Okay. Yeah, let’s talk.”

I lead the way down to the dock overlooking the lake and sit down to dangle my feet into the water. I know for a fact that Grace and Cale realized that we both haven’t come in behind them, so they are most likely snooping by the backdoor wondering what we are doing.

Bowen joins me, after slipping his shoes off and dangling his feet in as well.

“What’s been going on y/n?” Bowen asks again.

“I-I think I’m in love with you.” I blurt out. I can feel my heartbeat pounding in my ears as I await any type of response from Bowen. Taking a peek over at him, I see the pure shock on his face. Probably wasn’t the best idea to start off the conversation with that.

Taking his silence as a bad sign, I start spewing out whatever I can to try and calm the anxiety coursing through my veins. “I-I think I have known for a while and I just tried to ignore it, I guess. But then I realized that I was just pushing you away, an-and I never wanted to do that. Our friendship means that absolute world to me, and I would hate myself if anything I did, or-or my stupid feelings jeaporized that.” At some point during my little rant, a few tears escaped. I turn my head away as I try to hold back on a full on sob breaking loose.

“You think?” He eventually breaks the silence.

Confusedly, I turned my head back around and let out a strangled, “Huh?” I see the corners of Bowen’s mouth start curving up into a tiny smile, confusing me even more.

“You said, you think you’re in love with me.” He pointed out.

My eyebrows raise in question and I give him a little shrug, prompting him to elaborate more.

“Well… I’m pretty damn sure I’m in love with you.” Bowen softly declared.

My breath catches in my throat and my mouth turns as dry as the Sahara Desert. Those were definitely not the words I was expecting to come out of his mouth. He chuckles at my surprised face and scooches a little closer to my body to wipe a stray tear on my cheek.

“Are you serious?” I whisper out.

“Of course.” He whispered just as softly back to me as his head inched closer to mine.

My heart pounds in my chest as Bowen’s hand comes up to cradle my cheek. All of our pent up feelings and emotions that we both have been too afraid to admit all come crashing together as our lips finally meet. He kissed me gently, almost carefully, but after all this time gentleness was not what I wanted right now. Bowen let out a low groan as I pulled him flush against my body, my fists bunching up the collar of his shirt.

Before this could go any further, we both pull away breathlessly, basking in what truly just happened-- just now realizing how much our relationship is about to change.

“Fuck.” Bowen breathed out, running his hands over his face. “If I knew that was what it was like to kiss you I would’ve blurted out my feelings the day I met you.”

My ears perk up at his last few words and it seems like he also realizes what he just admitted, as his cheeks immediately turn a rosy color.

“You’ve liked me for that long?” I bashfully question.

Bowen runs his fingers through his hair and blows out a breath of air before answering, “Yeah, I-I mean… yeah I have.” He stumbles out, awkwardly letting out a laugh.

I lean my head on his shoulder and connect our hands, feeling super content and never wanting this moment to end. We take a moment to just sit on the dock-- with our feet hanging in the water, hands intertwined; and bask in the feeling of finally letting our feelings out into the open.

“You know everyone in that house is going to have a field day when they find out.” Bowen mumbles against my shoulder, before leaving a lingering kiss on the exposed skin.

“Oh I wouldn’t be surprised if they all had a bet going or something.” I chimed. I raise my head that had previously been resting on Bowen’s shoulder back up to look at him, and see that he is already smiling at me. “What?” I drawled, feeling my cheeks heating up under his gaze.

“You wanna sleep in my bed tonight?” He asked hesitantly.

My cheeks now feel on fire as I ponder on how I want to go about this. I raise my eyebrows up at him in question as I ponder out, “Do you want me in your bed tonight?”

Bowen gives me an almost incredulous look as he voiced, “Of course I want you in my bed.”

I just give him a simple nod and push my body up in a standing position, reaching out my hand to prompt Bowen to join me. “Okay, let’s go.”

Bowen immediately shoots up from his sitting position, clinging onto my hand as we make our way back up the yard to the sliding glass doors of the lake house. Just as I predicted earlier, Cale and Grace were totally snooping. Actually, the entire house was snooping. Everyone was gathered in the kitchen trying to act casual as we walked in, but as soon as they noticed our conjoined hands, all hell broke loose.

“I fucking knew it!”

“Aw you guys look so cute.”

“Bout time.”

“Ha! Nate, you owe me fifty bucks.”

I looked over at Bowen with an unimpressed look, “Told you they probably had a bet going on.” Meanwhile Bowen has an incredulous look coating his face watching his friends freak out over his newfound relationship. Instead of questioning our oddball friends, Bowen just simply shakes his head, letting out a little chuckle.

“Alright I’m heading up, I can’t deal with these idiots right now.” Bowen gives me a quick peck on the lips before announcing his departure for the night. Most of the others also start making their way up to their respective rooms for bed, the guys putting on a show of making kissy noises and making a few chirps as they follow Bowen up the stairs.

Grace joins me by the counter, making a show of wiggling her eyebrows at me. I’m smiling like an idiot as Cale also joins us, chuckling at my lovesick expression.

“You’re welcome.” Cale smirked.

I scrunch my face up in confusion as I question him back, “For what?”

“For introducing you two, duh.” Cale teased. Grace smacks him on the arm with a tut, making a show of rolling her eyes at her boyfriend. “Alright, seriously I am happy for you guys though.” He eventually relents.

My cheeks heat up from the attention but also from the thought of Bowen and I’s new relationship. Grace grabs me by the shoulders and starts pushing me in the direction of the staircase.

“Obviously I’m happy for you too. All I’ve wanted is the best for you and I think Bowen is just that. And with that being said, go get your mans!” She sends me off with a quick smack on my ass. I giggle the whole way up the stairs on the way into Bowen’s [now our] room feeling extremely giddy and content.

When I enter the room, all the lights except for the bathroom are already off, and it looks like Bowen is already settled into bed. So, I quickly do my night time routine and change into my pajamas before making my way over to the bed I will now be sharing for the week.

Bowen is awaiting me with his arms wide open, which I happily cuddle into the second I am under the covers. He buries his head into my neck, leaving featherlight kisses here and there.

“I love you.” Bowen mumbles into my neck. I card my fingers through his hair and kiss the top of his head as I mumble back those same words, in complete awe over how fast my life has changed in one night. We both knew that we would eventually be together, it just took a little time and a trip to Tyson Jost’s lakehouse for us to figure it out. This week will definitely be one for the books.

Taglist: @barzysandmarnersbitch @handwrittenheroes @hockeyplayerstories @barzy-xoxo @gnemgn @joelsfarabees

Tagging some mutuals as well so this doesnt flop,,,

@2manytabsopen @bb-nhlqueen7 @frederikanderson @simon-edvinsson @coltonndach @carepriceisgoodathockey @lovereadinghockeyy @pettypeteys @kentjohnsons @joekellys @mattybenierss

#bowen byram #nhl imagine #colorado avalanche #hockey imagine #nhl fic #friends to lovers #hockey fic #nhl fanfiction #bowen byram imagine #bowen byram x reader #nhl angst #nhl fluff #hockey fanfiction #avs #requested #cale makar #tyson jost #nathan mackinnon #alex newhook #mikko rantanen #my writing #hope you liked it :)

[soramei]

Intentional - Part 4

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader (she/her)

Summary: Landing your first real job at JYPE was something short of a miracle. You were prepared to face the new struggles of this elusive career whilst moving to a new country, however, nothing could have prepared you for him. Will stolen glances, secret touches, and hushed nights spent in the recording room ever be enough for the both of you?

Genre: idol!bang chan au, forbidden relationship, coworkers to eventual lovers, slow burn

Warnings: none right now, eventual smut

Word Count: 3.4k

Masterlist

A/N: DOUBLE UPLOAD! So i decided to split this part in two since i didn't want it to drag on for too long... next part will be uploaded tomorrow!

Taglist (reply to be tagged!): @planetdemon​ @hvunvely​ @fluffybitch0325​ @fashi0nablee @juststop88

You picked up the lanyard, looking between your burnt jacket in one hand and the vandalized piece of plastic in the other. The burnt polyester felt rough against your fingers. It was littered with black holes, almost to the point where it was unrecognizable as your jacket.

The lanyard, on the other hand, was almost untouched — save for the black marker that was sketched on the plastic. In the picture, on the part where your upper body was showing, there was only the black marker. The black blob stretched across your torso, the shape depicting a hoodie. Your eyes landed on the eyes in your picture. Thick lines drawn in the shape of an X covered both of them.

You quickly entered your apartment, hoping nobody saw you. You then stood completely still, listening to the silence, trying to find if anybody had broken into your home. After a minute, when it seemed as if you were the only person in there, you decided to lay the two vandalized items on your desk to further analyze them.

Your brain immediately tried to play this down by assuming that these were just kids who did this to your stuff, after all, it was something very immature. Children were the only people who had the time to play with fire and draw on other people’s pictures.

However, your gut told you something different. Why was your jacket along with your lanyard placed right in front of your apartment? Why was the marker outline specifically in the shape of a hoodie? Who could have known you were in the parking lot at that time of day?

Your mind drifted to one specific person. Manager Kim. He not only saw that you were in the parking lot that day with that jacket on, but also he knew your face from the lanyard. But why would he do something this childish? And how did he know where you lived?

The parking lot security guard had also been there when you wore that jacket, but he didn’t even look at you. And he would have no motive to do this sort of thing.

You rubbed your chin in thought, still not understanding everything. Was there somebody else that knew you were there?

Still feeling anxious, you began to prepare a cup of tea. You were reminded of Bang Chan. The tea. The smell of his hoodie.

His hoodie. The black hoodie.

Realization hit you like a truck as your eyes widened in disbelief. Was it maybe… Bang Chan?

Your heart was beating out of your chest. Hands shaking, you picked up your phone to call him, silently begging for the mysterious person to not be him.

He picked up.

“Hello? Y/n?”

You stayed silent.

“Is there something wrong?” He asked.

“I… I lost my jacket and it had my lanyard in it,” you tried to be careful with your words, not wanting to rouse suspicion from him, “have you seen it anywhere?”

“No,” you could almost see Bang Chan furrowing his eyebrows, “I’m still in the building though. I could look for it?”

“That’s alright,” you sighed in relief. He genuinely sounded confused, and plus, he was always so nice — there was no way he would ever do this kind of thing to you. You felt guilty for even suspecting him. “Thanks for offering though.”

“Y/n.”

“Hmm?”

“I know I said this before, but,” he paused, “if you need help with anything I’ll be there. I mean it.”

A chill ran down your spine at the seriousness of his voice. “I know. Thanks.”

You hung up, uneasy. The problem was unsolved, and to be honest, you were a little scared. There was somebody that knew who you were and where you lived. It was probably a good idea to change the passcode to your lock.

The kettle started to whistle. You turned off the flame of your stove and poured yourself a cup of tea, hoping that it would calm you down. Although it did a little, you still felt apprehensive about the whole thing. Your mood stayed the same the whole night, even when you tried to scroll through your phone or go to sleep.

The next day, you woke up with your mind cleared. No longer were you still feeling the aftershocks of the creepy jacket burner, and with your mood lifted more, you felt like you could think more objectively.

And that’s exactly what you did.

Throughout your whole week, this incident stuck in the back of your mind. Although your memory was getting fuzzier and fuzzier with the passing days, you still tried to work out who the culprit was in your free time.

Your mind was also filled with something else. Or was it someone else?

It seemed like, during the whole week, you couldn’t stop thinking of Bang Chan. You had to put part of the blame on him, though. Everytime he had a free moment in his busy schedule — granted it was rare that he did — he wanted to see you.

From secretly bringing you snacks from the vending machine to summoning you to his recording room in order to show his newest creation, he always seemed to stay busy even in his free time. You weren’t complaining, though. It was nice to have a friend who was so different from what you were used to.

You also spent a lot of time with Na-eun too. However, the time you spent with her felt different. Not in any good or bad way, just different. With her, it was mainly in the cafeteria, raving over the food after finally finding a free table. It was also trying to talk over everybody in the crowded streets as you two went shopping after work.

You liked it, sure. But with Bang Chan, every moment felt more intimate. Every smile, every laugh or brush of the hand. Was this what becoming friends felt like?

Other than these intrusive thoughts, the rest of your time was taken up by work. Although you were starting to get the hang of your tasks, there were still many mistakes made. Mistakes in which you had to profusely apologize to Manager Chen for, that you had to stay late nights to fix, mistakes which made you almost lose your mind. You hoped that Manager Chen could see your dedication to not only this project, but your job as a whole.

In the duration of this week, you managed to check in with every department involved with the project and partake in the finalization of the Mid-Autumn Festival content idea. It was decided that the group would do three activities: make lanterns, bake mooncakes, and share a fire while watching the moon. All while in the mountains.

You were surprised when Manager Chen asked you to come along to the shooting despite your inexperience. However, it wasn’t a chance you were going to pass up.

The week was hectic. So hectic, that you didn’t even realize it was almost over until Na-eun brought it up.

“Ugh, I wish I could just steal a whole tray of this food home,” you rolled your eyes. The two of you were raving once again at the cafeteria food. You wished you actually knew how to cook.

“Can you not cook?” She asked.

“I can fry an egg,” you said, stuffing more rice in your mouth.

“My six year old niece can do that,” she laughed. Her eyes widened. “What if I come over tonight and teach you? We’ll make fried rice, even you can’t screw that up.”

“Ha,” you said dryly. “I would, but I have literally nothing in my fridge.”

Na-eun gave you a deadpan look.

“How were you able to stay alive for the past couple weeks? At least you got skinner.” She sneered. “We’ll stop by the grocery store after work, I’ll teach you the bare minimum of living alone.”

And that was exactly what the two of you did. Right after you clocked out of work, you met up with Na-eun to go shopping. You decided to take out some cash to pay for your groceries, an action that Na-eun found hilarious. She was almost crying as she explained that a few groceries didn’t cost as much as you thought.

Your trip was successful. The two of you made it all the way back to your apartment and didn’t waste a second to get started. Halfway through setting things up, Na-eun got a text.

“Hey, is it okay if Yoojin comes? I guess she got jealous that I was here with you and she wasn’t.” She chuckled.

“Of course,” you eagerly nodded. “But, wouldn’t it be hard to get here with her injury?”

“What injury?”

“You know,” you continued, “her ankle.”

“She seemed fine to me.” Na-eun said as she started on the rice.

“Maybe she healed fast.” You shrugged.

“Maybe,” she shrugged back and returned to her task.

You texted Yoojin your address, and it wasn’t long before she was knocking at your door. You opened your door, and she immediately leaped at you for a hug.

“Oh, Y/n! I’m still so sorry for that day, I honestly feel horrible.” She pouted, her big eyes staring at you for a response.

“It’s really nothing, Yoojin.” You tried to sound casual. You let her in your apartment. “But, doesn’t your ankle hurt? There’s a lot of stairs coming up.”

“Oh, uhm, the doctor said it was only a minor injury.” She paused. “And I heal fast.”

“That’s good,” you smiled, patting her shoulder.

“But I still feel so bad, Y/n.” She whined. “Lemme make it up to you. I’ll set you up with this really hot guy I know. He’s a law student. You don’t have a boyfriend, do you?”

“Kim Yoojin!” Na-eun yelled.

“How about it? You’re free tomorrow, right?” Yoojin looked at you, ignoring Na-eun.

“I guess so,” you hesitantly agreed, “since it’s the weekend tomorrow.”

“Great!” Yoojin wrapped her arms around you, jumping up and down. “I’ll text you everything tonight.”

Yoojin kept up with her promise. After the three of you stuffed yourselves with good food, your two friends decided to leave before it got too dark. It was just a bit later when Yoojin’s text came through. You were to have dinner with this man called Kang Taehyun at an Italian restaurant tomorrow. Although you weren’t too thrilled with the idea of eating pasta, you figured you could withstand it for one night on the basis of trying something new.

You didn’t know how you felt about going on this date. Although you were excited to meet somebody new, something just felt off. Plus, you’ve never been on a blind date before. Who knows how good Yoojin’s judge of character was, or if this guy was like anything that Yoojin described.

You sighed, putting those thoughts aside. It was just a one time thing anyways, and who knows? Maybe this could lead to something. You looked over at Bang Chan’s hoodie. His warm hoodie that smelled so much like him. You should return it soon.

It was almost like he read your mind. As soon as you looked away, your phone rang with a call from Bang Chan.

“Hello?” You picked up.

“Hey, did you find your jacket?” He asked. You were surprised he still remembered.

“No… not yet.” You drifted off.

“Oh. We’ll keep looking for it, yeah? I’ll just buy you a new one if you can’t find it.”

You giggled. A couple seconds of silence passed.

“My shoot ends at six tomorrow. Wanna go to that barbecue place I was talking about?” He asked.

That’s right. Bang Chan couldn’t stop raving about that barbecue restaurant the whole week. He was really excited as his diet would end when he was done with his photoshoot, and he was apparently craving meat the whole time. All his praise made you very eager to see what the hype was all about.

You were about to eagerly accept, but then you remembered the date you had just planned not even a moment earlier. “Can we go another time? I… kinda have a blind date tomorrow.”

A few more seconds passed before you heard Bang Chan’s voice again.

“Blind date?”

“Yeah, my friend set it up. We’re going to this Italian place. Apparently he’s a really nice and handsome guy. He’s a law student, too.”

“Wha- law student? Y/n, are you sure you should be going on a blind date now? I mean, you just got here. You don’t know the city that well and you don’t even like pasta. What if he’s dangerous?” Bang Chan scoffed, his words got faster with each sentence.

“Chan, it’s okay. You don’t need to worry, I’ll be safe. Plus, I trust my friend.”

“You mean your friend you only just met?”

Silence.

“I only just met you as well.” You spat, slightly insulted that he would speak like that about Yoojin.

There was more silence that lingered.

“Whatever. Have fun on your date.” Bang Chan spat back, his harsh tone matching yours. Right after he said that, he hung up.

You looked angrily at your phone. Frowning, you threw your phone on your bed. Who was he to get angry at you for having a blind date? You recognized the dangers of meeting somebody new, but you trusted Yoojin. You were confident that Yoojin was honest about Taehyun.

A boyfriend would be nice too. Ever since your last relationship early in your university career, you haven’t had the best luck with men. It could have been because of how closed off your old friend group was. Your friends stayed consistent ever since you were young, and it was way too awkward to date a friend. You also found yourself way too closed off to go out and meet any new people.

Yes, tomorrow would be a good experience, you told yourself.

The next day, the hours leading up to your date felt like they had passed way too fast. The call with Bang Chan from last night still lingered on your tongue like sour candy, but you were determined to push past that in order to get ready on your date. After all, you didn’t want any frown lines to show.

You were excited to get ready. The amount of time it took to do both your hair and makeup was embarrassingly long, as you wanted everything to look just right for tonight. You didn’t want a hair to be out of place. You also took your sweet time to pick an outfit. Although the skirt you picked out probably wasn’t fit for the fall weather, you stuck with it anyways, choosing to layer a jacket over your outfit. One of your non-burnt jackets.

Double checking yourself in the mirror one last time, you locked the door and headed out. The streets were busy tonight. They were filled with people of all ages trying to relax from their tiring week.

Finding the restaurant wasn’t a hassle as the place was conveniently located at one of the busiest streets for weekend night-life. Dim yellow lights illuminated the tall glass windows just enough for you to see just the shadows of people enjoying their Saturday night. Green vines wrapped around the building, twirling and twisting their way around every crevice available. You tried not to fiddle with your thumbs as you nervously entered the lavish looking Italian restaurant.

“Hello, table for Kang Taehyun?” You asked the hostess. She showed you to a little table right beside a window. It was illuminated by a single candle, and already had two glasses of wine placed on it. And sitting at the table, hands crossed in front of him, was a hideously gorgeous man.

He looked like something out of a drama, really. With his tall nose and his sharp jaw, you struggled to convince yourself that this was a real man. His hands looked twice the size of yours.

“Hi, Y/n?” He asked. “I’m Kang Taehyun.”

He smiled and gestured for you to sit in the empty chair in front of him. You politely greeted him back and sat down. The two of you made some small talk before ordering. He made some suggestions on what to order, but you didn’t really care. You knew you wouldn’t like any of the pastas anyway. Plus, you swore to yourself you wouldn’t be drinking alcohol in front of strangers again.

“I’m surprised you agreed to this date.” You said, awkwardly laughing. “Isn’t a law student supposed to be really busy, especially around this time?”

“Well, I’m mainly doing this as a favour for Yoojin. She helped me with one of my classes.” He took a swig of his wine. “That girl is crazy smart. Or should I say crazy, but smart?”

“Oh?” You didn't want to admit that you were a bit disappointed he only agreed because of a favour. But he was being honest, so that was fair. What he said about Yoojin, though, took you by surprise.

“I’ve only heard rumors,” he tilted his head, “but some say that once in first year she went crazy over a guy. Started stalking him and everything. Apparently she even burned all his textbooks just because he started talking to another girl. They weren’t even dating.”

Your eyes widened at the allegations. There was no way any of that was true. You couldn’t imagine Yoojin — sweet, sweet Yoojin — to be capable of anything like that. There was no way her big puppy dog eyes and her fluffy hair could hurt a soul.

“Are you sure that’s what happened?” You asked.

“I mean, the guy was put into a mental hospital shortly after everything happened,” he shrugged, “so who knows? Maybe he made everything up in his head.”

“Yeah, maybe.” You nodded your head in agreement. Some of your hair fell on your pasta. You blushed, quickly trying to dab the sauce away using a napkin.

“You know Y/n,” Taehyun chuckled, “you’re cute. You’re not my type. I mean, I’ve only ever dated models before, but maybe it’s time to start settling down since I’ll be working at the firm soon.”

Thanks, I guess? You thought. You honestly didn’t know if that was a compliment or a jab, but either way you felt slightly insulted. You didn’t know how to reply to that, but it didn’t take long before Taehyun started again.

“I mean, look at my ex,” he said as he pulled up a picture of his ex-girlfriend on Instagram. She looked flawless in her bikini. “There’s no way I could actually marry somebody like that, right?”

If he says ‘I mean’ one more time… You thought to yourself. This date was turning south fast. This man was extremely handsome — almost god-like — but every word that left his mouth was poison infused arrogance. You didn’t know which was worse: listening to the man in front of you talk about his ex, or eating the pasta that was ordered by him.

You tried your best to stay polite with him for the rest of the evening. It was hard, though, as his cocky personality kept poking you down the whole time. It wasn’t until you finally separated that you had space to breathe. Great, you were left both hungry and annoyed.

Turning the lights on in your home, you sat at the kitchen table, still annoyed over your bad night. You took out your phone, wanting to scroll through the food delivery apps to find something to eat. Your thumbs began drifting.

No, stop. You silently begged yourself. Please, not tonight.

Your body didn’t seem to listen to your mind, however, as your thumb stayed hovering over Bang Chan’s contact. You pleaded to yourself to not press it, but your fingers seemed to have an agenda of their own. You pressed his contact. The phone call started.

One ring. Two rings.

“Hello, Y/n?”

You were shocked. He wasn’t supposed to pick up. Not after how poorly your last conversation went. You didn’t know what to say.

“Chan, how was the photoshoot?” You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t expect him to even pick up.

“It went great — feels good that it’s over, though.” He chuckled.

You wanted to tell him about your date: how arrogant Taehyun was, how fancy the restaurant was, how nasty the pasta was. You wanted to say all that, but tonight it seemed like your body just wouldn’t cooperate with your mind. And sure enough, you caught your mouth running before your mind. But this time, you couldn’t stop yourself.

“Chan,” you took a deep breath, “wanna come over?”

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