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oftenderweapons · 4 years

Text

The Studio - Namjoon

Pairing: Namjoon x reader (nicknamed Vixen)

Wordcount: 9.7k words

Genre: smut, angst, fluff

Rating: 18+

I told you I’d be back really soon ;) Tonight there’s a lot on schedule! I’ve been working on this piece for two weeks, since it carries a lot for both Namjoon and Vixen, emotionally speaking. It means a lot for me too, since to me it was truly a challenge in terms of the different levels of knowledge that Joon, y/n and the narrator hold. I think I’ve grown a lot in terms of writing even from Tiktok Towel Trick, which I wrote last May, but I’m really proud of myself comparing to what I used to produce a couple years ago.

Now, let me introduce this fic. The piece takes place two or three months after the two have started sleeping together (ideally late January or February). In this piece Vixen visits Joon at the studio after a bad fight and Joon’s self-imposed isolation. The two feel like they’ve come to a dead-end as they wait for the other person to cut ties. Namjoon is suffocated by his job, his tendency to lash out at his closest ones when he’s stressed and his previous traumas; Vixen is locked in her head, shut out by Namjoon and repeatedly accused of infidelity, as a sign of Namjoon’s lack of trust. Will the two manage to work things out?

Description and trigger warnings: The piece was written referring to Namjoon’s Rkive as in his vlive log. There is ANGST. Loads. There is some crying and it is not Vixen’s. Longing and miscommunication. In terms of filth: so much dirty talking the walls exude holy water by now. Unprotected sex (STAY SAFE GUYS!!!!!!!!), DDLG/daddy kink, Masturbation paired up with Voyeurism and Exhibitionism, Fetishism (Shoes, tights and lingerie), Oral (female receiving), Cumplay (eating), Marking, Spanking, Angsty doggy fucking followed by a very soft ride on the sofa. That should be all. Fluff alarm: Namjoon doesn’t want to lose his little fox and Vixen just wants to cuddle her big teddy bear Joon.

Wordcount: 9.7k

Here is my masterlist

Enjoy!!!

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Standing in the main corridor of the studios felt very strange. You looked around, uncomfortable, while the receptionist at your side stared at you, waiting. "Don't worry, he's busy all the time. We can wait, no big deal." The fact that you'd been greeted by Namjoon's driver at the entry desk had helped you get to the studios unannounced. "That boy always gets caught up on something. He shouldn't make you wait." He tutted, looking at you with a kind smile.

"____? What are you doing here?" Taehyung smiled at you brightly, close behind him Hoseok and Yoongi approached with heavy-looking bags on them.

"Oh, hi. I sort of stopped by for Namjoon." You bit your lip, smiling embarrassedly.

"He's still in his room. I can show you the way." Taehyung said, grinning.

Yoongi seemed to be observing him closely while Hoseok looked absolutely oblivious.

"No, I only have to give him this." You showed them two small bags, one containing food and the other a few things he had left at your place.

You tried not to let your heartbreak show.

"Maybe you could bring them to him, I don't want to distract him."

You smiled but you felt the tears welling up.

Yoongi's glance moved to you. It felt scorching. "I think you should bring those to him. I think he'd like to see you." His serious tone made you realise that maybe he did know what was happening. Maybe he did know better.

"I think he'd rather not see me right now." Your lips tightened in a thin line.

Both the guys turned to Yoongi. "Go, I'll see you tomorrow."

They both patted him on the shoulder and waved at you, Taehyung hugging you close. "It'll be alright. I'll see you."

Taehyung smiled at you, his cute cheeks popping upwards. Maybe it had to do with the fact that you had just granted him an exclusive piece by one of his favourite photographers. Maybe he was just friendly, maybe he simply liked you because he deemed you a decent human being.

Right at his heels, Hoseok gave you a cute wave, saying bye-bye in a cartoonish voice.

Beside you, Yoongi shook his head, still sporting a fond smile. "Uhm, I never know whether I should introduce myself. Anyway, we've never met before, so– I'm Yoongi. " He said with a tiny smile, his cheeks jumping upwards.

You introduced yourself with a small bow.

"You are just like he described you. He talks about you a lot." He commented. You blushed, almost feeling like dissolving into thin air. You never thought you would meet his friends like this.

Yoongi looked at your face. "You're exactly his type — in the best way possible." He blushed. "Let's go." He said, leading you. "I actually want to say a few things." He threw his bag on the floor, getting comfortable on the sofa in the common room. "How are you doing?"

You stared at your feet. "Decent enough."

"I'll be honest, ____. He hasn't been doing good. Not even decent, in my opinion." Yoongi announced, as if trying to prepare you for what you were going to see. "I feel like telling you a couple things about him. He can be hot-headed, and an absolute pain in the ass. He is a perfectionist, and a terrifically clumsy one at that." Yoongi huffed out. "He holds himself to extremely high standards and punishes himself whenever he feels like he's not delivering. And he has the horrible tendency to lash out when he's stressed. He just takes it all out on those who are closest to him." Yoongi patted the spot at his side, inviting you to sit. "I'll be inappropriate, maybe, but I have to say it. You don't have to stay at his side."

The sentence was like a slap to your face. It had never come to your mind to part ways with him.

"You don't have to put yourself through his tempers and tantrums. You need to be ready to handle those emotionally. If you aren't, I don't think you'll be able to go for the long run." Yoongi looked at you in the eye. "Sorry if I overstepped, usually people come to me to talk, I'm not used to giving unsolicited advice." He blushed and laced his fingers together, laying them on his thighs.

"I don't want to let go of him, Yoongi." You confessed.

"Then you should go bring this stuff to him in person. And remember, you don't have to be his therapist. If you want, you can be his partner, walk by his side, but it's not your duty to carry him." The man was incredibly smart and thoughtful. And sensitive. The more you got to know him, the more you understood Namjoon's adoration for him.

"Thank you so much." You bowed your head briefly, placing your palm on top of his hands.

He moved one on top of yours, patting gently. "Let's go find your grumpy bear, uh?"

With a groaned "aigoo" He pushed himself up, standing on his feet like an old man before bending to catch the strap of his bag. "This way."

He led you through the winding corridors until you recognised the door to Namjoon's studio. "Go on. Knock politely and be smart. Discuss. Negotiate. Compromise. And be kind to each other." He gave you the official salute and left.

You found yourself staring at the door, wondering if he'd roar at you for interrupting him.

The room sounded quiet.

You counted to three. Knocked.

"Come in." Said his voice with a weak rumble. He was probably distracted.

His studio was warm and welcoming, if a bit clustered. The lights were low and yellowy, coming from his desk and contrasting with the white gleam of his computer screen, still you could see everything perfectly in the slight penumbra, your eyes perusing your surroundings. It was easy to see why his apartment felt like a hotel room: he barely spent time there while this place really felt like home. It felt like stepping into his soul. Small sculptures and toys and collectibles were neatly lined in his bookcase together with some books. Then the baby shoes. Art catalogues. Candles. Art. A drape too big for the wall, but still there, a painting, probably from Yoongi, since you vaguely recognised his style. On the back wall, you noticed two drapes embroidered in traditional patterns. The floor was covered in thick cream carpets with geometric prints that reminded you of tribal symbols. And sweet lord, that was his wooden, swoon-worthy, customised low table, matching with the piece by the door holding one of his bonsai. A comfy couch with a fluffy, warm blanket, and embroidered pillows. You were mesmerised. You didn't have time to take it all in, your glance running from the upright piano to the microphone standing beside his chair. He didn't turn around, he kept staring at the screen, typing every now and then. His beautiful desk was crowded with stationery, electronic devices, a keyboard and all kinds of knicknacks.

"What is– oh. Hi." His expression was ice-cold.

"Hi. I was passing by, I wanted to bring you some stuff you'd left at mine."

His heart froze. This is the end then.

He'd been avoiding it for almost two weeks, hiding from you in his studio, even though the only things he could write were heartbreaking blue rhymes that had Jimin and Jeongguk exchanging pitying glances.

The beginning of this tragedy was almost comedic in its stupid futility. It was just him incapable of perfecting a pre-chorus. A dumb verse or something. He had called you, talked it out but apparently all he did was just turn down your ideas and suggestions, snapping at you until you exhaustedly told him that you were tired and needed some sleep. He took that as you umpteenth sign that you didn't care about him — which you both knew was entirely wrong — and caused a huge fight which ended on you telling him to go fuck himself, at which he unceremoniously replied that he was okay with that since you were clearly already fucking someone else.

You didn't bother correcting him, since no matter how many times you told him, he always seemed to get back at you being unfaithful and uncaring. You were done justifying yourself, apologising for things you had never done.

"Uhm. I also brought you some food. I didn't know if you had already eaten."

He looked at you like you had finally lit a candle in a dark and cold room.

Your heart broke some more. You asked yourself if there was any more breaking to do, at this point.

You figured there was the moment you heard his hoarse voice speak. "Let's eat together."

You didn't have the guts to deny him.

You laid the bags on the small table and took off your coat. He stood on his feet immediately, crossing the room in a few broad steps and hugging you to his chest.

Let it hurt. You told yourself. It heals faster like that.

His palms settled at your waist and his eyes closed. He breathed you in. He had never felt something really end. His exes were like a song slowly slipping into a diminuendo until they became silence. His interest burned out, his curiosity simply died down and the feelings never seemed to grow fully. They felt like a balloon which was never supposed to be blown that big. This thing with you was like a song being stopped mid-chorus, silence biting in where it wasn't supposed to be. Is this what the end feels like? He asked himself as he held you tighter, one of his hands climbing up and burrowing into your hair. He pressed your face into his chest, where his heartbeat was so strong and so loud that you asked yourself if you could somehow amplify it, if your body could register it and replay it once you were alone in your bed, mourning over this. "You feel taller." He said, noticing how your forehead reached his lips instead of slotting under his jaw.

"I still have my heels on." You replied.

"Wanna take 'em off?" He asked.

You shook your head. "No, if that's not a problem.

He breathed out heavily. He interpreted your refusal as a sign that first, you were keeping your tough-woman shield up — which he couldn't blame you — and second, you weren't intending to stay long.

You tried to part yourself from him. "One more second, little Vixen. Just a second." He whispered.

You allowed him.

"Come on, dinner is getting cold." You said softly.

He didn't let you go, he simply loosened his grip and dragged you to the sofa. He was willing to keep you as close as he could until you ripped the bandaid off, unraveling this small spell that had turned his life into a perfect, dreamlike snowball.

Sitting on the sofa, he made you sit beside him, your side sticking to his from shoulder to hip to knee to ankle.

It was all too much but you didn't have the strength to part from him. He bent down and opened the small boxes.

It was fried chicken.

Like the first time at his place, at two am, naked in his bed after he had owned you in every way that mattered.

He loved fried chicken. And now it would always mean you to him.

No chimaek after fucking with anyone else. He wanted to keep it for you, in case one day you decided to come back, and he would say he had never done that with anyone else, that he had been waiting for you. Because some part of him told him that you would come back.

Both your brains were going on the same path, already mourning someone who was right there in that moment, but already felt so far away. The room was quiet but both your minds were screaming, thinking so loud that the silence was welcome.

"I got you fried chicken. I know you love it."

I love you, his brain replied. But his mouth stayed silent. It was too late anyway.

"Thank you." He said brusquely. He reprimanded himself for sounding so harsh.

"It's okay." You said quietly, using the lid to grab a couple pieces out of the ten or so. You didn't feel like eating and he always ate two thirds of the box anyway.

He exchanged one of your wings for a leg. "You prefer the leg." He said with a shy smile, trying to make up for the coldness he had shown previously.

You had been sleeping with Namjoon for three months now, spending all your spare time together at his place, sometimes moving in for the weekend, the both of you leaving your job early so you could spend Friday afternoon together and go on small dates. He usually had his schedule on Saturdays and Sundays too, so it wasn't uncommon for you to spend several hours alone at his place. You had made small improvements, making his house feel more like a home with small handmade crafts. And when he came back, you would usually try to keep it chill but eventually you ended up in bed, or on the sofa, or the kitchen counter. Or the carpet on the corridor leading to his bedroom. Or the shower. Let's just say that you would be all over each other.

You thought how different it would be now, and how difficult it would be to get him out of your system.

"How is it going." You asked quietly after you swallowed your first bite.

"Tough. I'm polishing some stuff, but this is the part where I doubt everything and want to rewrite all of it." He explained, his fingers gripping the chicken with a precision and finesse that reminded you of his delicate, careful side.

"You'll get through it. You're a pro by now. And I'm sure you have excellent taste. You know what you want and you'll find your way to it." You praised him, rubbing your shoulder against him since your fingers were dirty.

He leaned his head on your shoulder, shrinking down to reach you. "Thank you."

The more time passed, the more you realised he still hadn't said sorry for what he had implied during that phone call.

"That's okay."

"How have you been doing?" He asked, trying not to let his worry show. It still showed, though.

You decided on being honest. "I've been missing you."

He paused eating. "I've been missing you too." He put down the chicken, using the ball of his wrists to press against his temples. "I'm sorry about what I said that day. I know my past relationships and nerves are not valid excuses for how I treated you, but I got swallowed in those and I dragged you in."

You looked at the leg and finished munching on it, stripping the bone of the last few strings of meat. You put down the naked bone, licking your fingers. "You never talked about your most recent ex." You commented.

He picked up his head. "To put it simply, I was her side piece." He said, plainly. "She was getting married to someone else. And she messed around with me." He looked at his feet. "At the beginning I didn't know. It lasted around eight months, as she was waiting for her fiancé to finish his military service. After I discovered it, we kept going for a couple weeks, but I found the whole thing so upsetting and disgusting that we parted ways. Her fiance forgave her and they got married a while ago, a few weeks before I met you." He snickered sarcastically. "I even sent them flowers."

You blinked distractedly. "Joon, I'm so sorry, baby." You brushed your forehead against his arm.

"It's cool. I mean, it's not since I'm still traumatised by it. I've been talking about it with my analyst, but it's been a while since I last went, almost three weeks, because this project had been swallowing me whole — after chewing me a little, clearly." He had his exhausted laugh on.

You felt like you needed to talk about the whole story about that girl, but right now he didn't seem in the right mindset to do that. For now, knowing that he knew he had a bias and he was tackling the issue with a therapist was enough.

"Have you been sleeping, babe?" All the breaking up was momentarily suspended. There was something to save here. You had a lot you still wanted to save from this.

He seemed relieved when you called him that. Don't get your hopes up. He shook his head. "A couple hours at a time. Small naps when I'm tired."

"Okay, so once you're done eating, we're gonna take a good, long nap."

He didn't want to sleep though. He wanted to hold you close, kiss you, make sure that he did everything he could to make you stay. The meal continued quietly, and as soon as you were fed he asked you about your job, how it was going, if you had any new clients or if you had met any new artists. You replied to each question fully, telling him about curious accidents and little inconveniences.

And he listened. He had missed your voice and it felt good to listen to someone who wasn't himself or the boys' voices over speakers and headphones.

As you were both done with dinner, he guided you to the bathroom, standing behind you as you washed your hands. He took some soap, foaming it up between his hands before he caught your left palm within his, pressing and rubbing them together to clean you up. And then he laced his fingers with yours, lathering your digits in bubbles and making sure that the sticky sauce from the chicken disappeared completely. He moved to the other hand as you laid your head against his chest at his collarbone, tipping it back so you could stare at him. You were sure you had never adored someone this much. He turned slightly to look at you, smiling softly. He bent down and pressed his lips to yours gently. No man, no person in the world had ever touched you or kissed you like he has. No one has ever talked to you like him, showed you their world like he has. He reluctantly parted from your lips.

He led your joined hands to close the tap, moving to the hand dryer. It felt all too intimate.

"Joon."

"Let's get back to my studio, yeah?" He whispered in your ear. You nodded.

He laced his hand with yours.

Once you reached the studio, he quietly dragged you to the sofa, pulling at your arm so that you fell with your ass on his lap. He hugged you again. "I am so sorry about what I said. You have told me countless times that I'm the only one."

"You hurt me, Namjoon." You said quietly.

It felt like a slap, his full name.

"Let me make it right." He kissed your cheek and your eyes fell shut. "I want you."

And you wanted him too. You thought yourself crazy for wanting a man so complicated, someone who had disrespected you, who had repeatedly and blatantly demonstrated his lack of trust towards you. Still, when you needed reassurance, affection and devotion, your bodies always came into play, talking with a language so simple and obvious to each other that you simply nodded, whispering "I want you too."

With his index finger he turned your head, kissing you square on the lips and forcing you to part them, his tongue sweeping in your mouth, making your head spin with the intimacy and intensity of it all.

Let him take you, if that would reassure him that you only thought about him, you wanted only him and no one else.

His free hand curled around your thigh, climbing up under the tight knee-length dress you were wearing. The woolen grey number was the first thing to come off as he tugged it over your head and off his way. "You're so gorgeous," He murmured painfully, looking at you and taking in every small detail. "A work of art, little Vixen." He kissed your shoulder.

You smiled shyly, trying to straddle his waist. He toyed with the lace covering your breasts and nipples, teasing them with his fingers until they pressed hard against the fabric. Next he fooled around with the waistband of your tights, making you stand between his legs as he dragged the nylon down your thighs and calves. He stared at your feet, where the garment bunched up, noticing your black stilettos. "Off." He whispered, tapping his foot against yours. Once you took off the shoes, he bent down to help your feet out of your tights. He bit your leg harshly, leaving a mark behind. "Heels on again, Vixen."

Smiling darkly, you slipped them back on, shivering a little, but so happy to wear your favourite black lace set and stilettos for him.

"Walk for me?" He asked, making you put on a little show.

And God, did you enjoy it. His jaw went slack at the Brazilian cut of your panties, exposing to his hungry eyes the perfect curve of your ass, the way it swelled fully before meeting with the back of your thigh.

That was his favourite place to bite. And spank.

You did a small catwalk with your back to him, reaching his chair, which you turned around from his desk to the sofa. Facing the chair, you bent forward, your thumbs catching the fabric of your panties at your sides and pushing them down as you bent forward, offering him the whole panorama.

He groaned. "I'm gonna get an heart attack, baby."

You smiled at him viciously over your shoulder, letting your lower piece of underwear fall to the floor. Next you dragged your full palm up the curve of your ass, smacking it playfully as your fingers made their way to the clasp of your bra.

"You're gonna kill me, Vixen." He cried out.

Bra undone, you let both strings fall down your shoulders, removing one side first and letting the garment dangle from the other side, making your arm fall and drop the delicate lace ordeal.

Your smile disappeared in an innocent pout when you turned around, completely naked except for your shoes.

"I'm gonna sit here." You announced, waiting for his approval.

He nodded eagerly. "Make yourself comfy, Vixen."

You sat down, crossing your legs and propping your elbows on your knees. Shyness was not a word in your vocabulary in that moment. Your only intention was that of distracting him from whatever it was that was mauling his brain.

"Are you going to make me wait, Joon." You teased demandingly.

He stared at you, meeting your glance. "Stay there and sit still." He ordered before grabbing the hem of his sweater and pushing it upwards, taking off both sweater and undershirt in the process. His upper body appeared, a bit skinnier than two weeks ago but maybe it was just the distance and the slouching position. His sweatpants were taut around his lap and you bit your lip as your eyes traced the outline of his length. He laid his palm there, stroking himself over the cotton. "Missed you so much, baby." He groaned and huffed. His eyes closed, his hand grew tense, stronger and heavier. Licking your lips, you kept staring at him, squeezing your thighs as he touched himself for you.

He was hot, all the time, but this… This felt like a fever dream. You were soaked. Thank god his chair was leather and it could be cleaned easily.

He moaned your name, his eyes struggling to open enough to look at you. His voice was so deep and needy, mixed with heavy huffs. "Namjoon." You whined.

He opened his eyes fully, his hand coming to a halt. It was like a cold shower. He was reminded why you were doing this, why you had come to this, the sudden distance that had come within the two of you. "What is it, baby?"

You pushed your ass against the chair, looking for friction. "Come here. Touch me." You begged.

It pained him seeing you so needy and whiny and stressed. "Listen to me, baby thing. Listen very carefully." He wanted to reassure you but he couldn't come to you. "I need you to touch yourself, little one. Can you do that for me? I promise I'll touch you after you cum, baby, but I want to see you first." He asked, palming himself again.

You licked your lips. "Can I?" You questioned innocently, placing your palm on your thigh, your fingertips grazing your crotch.

"You can, doll. Do it for me." He growled, pushing his fingers under his waistband, grabbing his hard on at the base and stroking it as you parted your legs, exposing your wetness. You were beautiful, naked on his chair, dragging your middle finger along your dripping slit. Your other hand grabbed your breast.

"You're a vision, Vixen. You're magnificent, pretty thing."

"I want your tongue, daddy." You mewled, your finger dipping inside, emerging covered in glossy wetness.

He groaned, taking his cock out of his pants, moving the waistband to his thighs. “I’m gonna eat you later, pretty doll. I’ve been starving for weeks for that sweet cunt of yours.” His erection immediately sprung up, arching to his belly button, the lower tendon looking so inviting along that thick vein that always had him throwing his head back whenever you traced it with the tip of your front teeth. As your fingers met your clit, eliciting a whine from your throat, he used four fingers to press on the vein, his thumb already playing with the tip. His hands always looked incredible whenever he used them on himself, strong fingers and spidery tendons making the vision sinfully erotic. However, he was lost in you as much as you were lost in him, his lips parted, his breath panting while you opened your legs wider, using two fingers in small upward circles that teased the underside of your clit. You felt a chill run down your spine, your legs trembling and closing a little with an involuntary reflex. You giggled at that, closing your eyes and moving your grip to the armrest of the chair. Your upper body inched forward a little and your hand stopped.

“Too much, babygirl?” He asked and you smiled brightly, nodding.

You’re gonna miss it, the way she smiles when you’re doing it right, his brain reminded him and as a way to shut it up, he stroked himself faster, with more pressure, his spare hand brushing his abdomen and moving upwards, spreading over his pectoral, scratching the skin there before his thumb and forefinger curved around the base of his neck, pressing there.

You observed the motion, unpausing the movement between your thighs and humming as he gave you his desperate stare, the one that meant that he couldn’t take it anymore, that he was on the verge of it and even the smallest addition to the current situation would have him screaming and cumming.

“Joonie, lemme get close. Cum in my mouth, Joon, please.” You whined.

“No, naughty girl. Stay there and cum for daddy.” He groaned. “Come on, baby, I’m waiting for you.” He said, with a harsh and strained command.

Arching your neck, you started moving faster, opening your legs as far as the armrests allowed, but they only allowed an inch more than what you already had. Huffing with disappointment, you closed them and propped the back of your right knee on top of the armrest and repeated the gesture with your left leg, spreading yourself wide, almost hitting a split with your legs bent at the knees.

“God, you’re the dirtiest. You stretching it out for me? You’re so good, showing daddy how wet you are for him.” He teased, using that raspy voice that he knew always drives you insane.

With short, quick breaths you brought yourself closer and closer to the edge. “Daddy, please, keep talking to me.”

His hand slowed down. “Need to hear my voice, babygirl?”

You nodded and he snickered. “Then I’ll talk to you, little one. You know what I’m gonna do after you cum? I’m gonna crawl to you and kneel between those wondrous legs of yours. I’m gonna push your ass to the edge of the seat and feast on you like I’m trying to die eating that pussy. And do you know what you’re gonna do, Vixen?” He provoked.

You shook your head. “What am I going to do, daddy?” You questioned innocently, your words stumbling a few times as your breath got stuck somewhere in your throat.

“Oh, little fox, you’re gonna grab my hair and push that lovely cunt on my lips and tongue, fucking my face so hard and fast, pressing your sexy heels on my naked shoulders. I want to hear you gasp for air because I make you cum so good you forget to breathe, you forget how to speak.”

“Joon, I’m cumming.” You cried out, your legs starting to quiver and your clit getting too sensitive to stand the movement of your fingers, slipping them inside and pushing them in slow circles around your cervix.

His fingers moved back to the tip, the other hand massaging his balls. “Take it, Vixen, that’s it baby. I’m cumming, ____.” He moaned your name, spilling his release on his lower stomach.

You were still staring at each other with your chests heaving, eyes wild, hands stained by your pleasure. It was always the two of you. Always getting caught up in each other, always getting tangled in each other's fantasies with this constant lust pulling you in and never having enough. You wondered when the hunger would stop, when you would grow tired of his insecurity and possessiveness, when he would find out you're too kinky, too needy, too fucked up for a busy man like him to handle.

He cleaned his hand with one of the unused paper towels from dinner, crumbling it and throwing it in the box with the garbage from dinner.

"Joonie." You whispered, waiting.

"Coming, baby fox." He replied, standing up and taking off his sweatpants and boxers, walking straight to you. You closed your legs, a bit cold and embarrassed now that your high was over. Standing right in front of you, he cupped your cheek, making you look up at his face, however, even though your head was tipped back, aimed at his eyes, your glance hung low, staring at the droplets smearing his abdomen. "What are you looking at, spoiled little fox?" He said, with a sardonic smile.

"I wanna lick."

He grinned and scooped some liquid with his digit, bringing it to your lips.

Parting your lips, you licked your lower one first, then you let your tongue dart out and swipe at his finger, carefully sucking it into your mouth before he lowered his eyes, staring into yours and smirking seducingly as he pulled his digit out. You smacked your lips and savoured his taste, your eyelids falling shut as you hummed at his flavour.

His cock, once half soft, was now hardening again, swelling intermittently and slowly rising to his navel. But Namjoon's eyes were focused on your face. "Want more?" He asked once your eyes opened and your gaze focused on his face. With a sex-addled, lazy grin you nodded, opening your mouth.

He grinned right back. "Such a hungry little girl."

Impatient, you grabbed his hips, pulling him towards you and licking his belly clean. He groaned, observing you closely.

I'm going to teach her some patience and some manners, he thought darkly. However, he immediately reminded himself that he would never have the time, your liaison coming to an end.

With this unfortunate thought, he cupped your face. "I'm the one supposed to be eating now, ____. Let me take care of you, darling." He said, before falling to his knees. Immediately he pushed the back of the chair to the table, so that it wouldn't cartwheel out of his grasp.

Once more you asked yourself how many times he had done that before, thinking about how the relationship with the bride-to-be must have been mostly sexual, since you don't usually have much romance and dates with someone who is taken. Even though he didn't know she was taken. Whatever.

In that moment he was there, kneeling before you, placing your heels on his shoulders, cupping your ass and tipping it forward so he could easily and comfortably give you that first, glorious lick from your hole to your clit. "Taste so good." He said, nuzzling his lips side to side as he spoke, mixing the movement to the vibration of his voice. He bit the small tattoo at the top of your thigh, where it met your pelvis, just shy of your hip bone. "Sexy little thing." He kissed it. "Drove me insane since day one." As usual, he sucked at it, causing a dark purple mark to bloom over it. "Fucking perfect."

He laid his tongue flat against your slit drawing the tiniest circles with the whole length of it.

You hand-combed his hair back, holding it so you could look into his dragon eyes. He looked vicious and dangerous and so cunning, so smart in the most atrocious way.

"Namjoon." You moaned, your hips arching closer to his mouth.

He snickered cockily, moving his tongue slowly back into his mouth, allowing only the tip to wander up your crevice and reach the apex of your labia. He delivered a set of ten licks, slow and curling perfectly against your nub. "Are you good, little fox?" He asked.

You nodded and pushed his head back between your legs.

He laughed loudly, fighting against you. "I'm not done talking, brat." He bit your lower belly gently. "I'm gonna pump your clit with my mouth, Vixen. I'll suck it twenty times, then I'll let you rest until I'm ready again. I'll keep going until you cum. Remember that after twenty I'll pause. This could easily turn into edgeplay, baby, so you'd better get very horny very fast. You okay, Vixen?"

He checked on you and you nodded, impatient to simply have him on your clit.

"Be verbal, little girl." He reprimanded.

"Yes, daddy."

"Good girl. Let's get started."

He wasted no time. He wrapped his lips around your clit and started sucking, sucking so hard that you knew the following day his jaw and ears would hurt. At pump fifteen you already knew you needed more than twenty to cum. And as twenty arrived you whined but you felt confident that the next set would suffice.

This time you felt your edge at twelve, still you needed more. You were getting wetter and wetter, so soaked that his saliva and your slick mixed up and made you feel uncomfortable between your asscheeks.

"Joon–" You said, at which he mumbled "language" in between two pumps.

"Daddy, I want your fingers inside." You said, indulging his every whim.

He fumbled around with his arms, securing you with his left, making sure that your backside wouldn't get too close to the edge of the seat, and cause you to fall. His right arm moved back to your front, his index and middle finger coming to your entrance and waiting, his drool sliding from his tongue down your slit and directly on his fingers which, now lubricated, slipped in with no friction or resistance. The pressure was mind-blowing, your head spinning. "Daddy, please."

"Please what?" He said, hitting his pause.

"Make me cum. Let me." You asked, as meekly as you could.

"Why should I, uh?" He teased.

"Because I am a good girl." Because I love you, said an obnoxious part of your brain.

"Then I need you to say it one last time, Vixen. I know I've tormented you, but I need to ask it once and for all. Is there anyone else?" He said, his voice almost breaking.

"No, Namjoon. I swear to God, there's no one else. I promise it. I swear on everything that I love the most. Please." You begged, hoping that he would feel the desperate honesty in your voice. "Please. You're my only daddy. I have you, only you. I am yours." You said, and God if it felt right, if it felt true, being his, belonging to him.

Tell him you love him, your brain said again, but you refused.

He smiled brightly at your declaration. "We're done playing, if you want to, Vixen."

You simply nodded, batting your lashes at him. "I want to."

"Then hold tight because I'm not going to stop until you're fucking my face and screaming my name and shaking on this seat. Understood?" He warned you.

"Yes, daddy." You replied.

"Then hold tight, baby fox. I'm gonna eat you alive."

"Try." You challenged him.

And that's when he pounced. His pumps became longer, impossibly tighter, and the small pause between one and the next became shorter. Your eyes locked with his, brows knitting together, lips parting in a mewl as you threw your head back. "Namjoon. Please, daddy."

Smirking, he mixed the pumping motion with a barely-there curl of his tongue, teasing your clit with such delicate pressure that you couldn't even wrap your head around the incredible amount of tension that it was causing in your body. Your hands tightened in his hair, your moans dissolving into small giggles.

He wanted to tell you how good you sounded, how pretty you looked, how he wanted to see this every day for the rest of his life. He loved seeing you this happy, this carried away. He loved your morning voice and your late night cuddles. He loved breakfast in bed and midnight snacks and three a.m. quickies. He loved watching you take off your bra from under your t-shirt before going to bed, he loved seeing you shiver as you went to the bathroom early in the morning, clad in his t-shirt, plain cotton briefs and a pair of socks even in the dead of winter, since he always kept you warm under the covers by holding you close. He wanted to confess it all: the heartwarming wonder he felt staring at you had when you focused while reading and studying, when you brushed your hair, when you got dressed before leaving for the day, when you stood at the kitchen counter, cooking, with your back to him, and again when you applied lotion all over your body after showering, when he kissed your nape, standing behind you and donning the zipper of your dress.

However, he stayed silent, showing it all with the reckless ministrations of his mouth as your chest blushed, your hands grabbed his hair almost painfully and your hips snapped, your mouth opening in a silent scream.

You hadn't even bothered telling him you were cumming. He knew anyway. His mouth became more gentle, resolving to small licks while his fingers massaged your walls deep and slow, perfectly responding to the contractions of your muscles. "Here, pretty thing." He murmured, his hair tickling the skin of your stomach. "I've got you, baby. Shhh." He calmed you down, your breath coming in heavy pants, your heartbeat going like crazy. He rubbed his soaked fingers against his thigh, briefly cleaning himself before coming up to your face, cupping your cheeks. "Are you okay, little one?"

You nodded with your eyes closed, getting sleepy.

He caressed your face. "Open your eyes for me, baby girl, let me see your pretty eyes."

With a beatific smile you tried to look at him, eyelids lifting, taking a few seconds to focus on him.

"There she is, my moonshine." He cooed, pressing a kiss to your lips. "You look really happy, baby thing."

You simply moved your head in a nod.

"Do you want more, little fox?" He asked, still fussing over you. "Can you take it just one more time, babe?"

Licking your lips you nodded again with a giggle.

He smiled. "You keep nodding, baby. Are you saying yes to daddy?"

"Yes, Joonie." You whispered slowly.

"Good girl. Can you walk, Vixen?"

"Yes."

"Great. I want you to kneel in front of the coffee table, darling." He commanded, rising to his feet and helping you stand up.

This would be the last time, he decided.

He would allow himself your heaven just one more time, then he would hold you close for a few minutes, clean you up, accompany you home and let you go. He wasn't man enough to look into your eyes. He was weak and unfair. He turned you around with your back to him, his erection brushing against the small of your back. Once you were in front of the table, he moved your hair to the side, skimming the curve of your ear with his lower lip. "Kneel, Vixen."

You did.

He kneeled behind you, moving the books and magazines on the floor, away from the two of you, while the traces of your dinner were thrown into the bag, which he would discard later. With an empty table, he pushed his palm from the small of your back to your nape, making your front adhere to the table and making sure that your hair was out of the way. "I know you love this table." He murmured.

"I do."

"I do, too." His heart felt like a burden. Without further hesitation, he grabbed his length and rubbed his tip against you. "You ready, ____?"

"Please."

With a groan he slipped in, the filling sensation causing a loud whine on your behalf. "Quiet." He reprimanded.

You got a little scared at his dark voice, knowing that at this point you'd better obey. However, it lasted little. Once he bottomed out, he growled, bending down to your neck. "You good, little one?" He said, his sweet persona back in place.

"Yes, daddy."

He was breathing heavily through his nose as he sucked at the skin of your neck, marking you. As soon as he was sure the mark would bruise and stay for at least a couple days, he released your skin. "Do you want your spanks, baby girl?"

Your eyes rolling with pleasure, you hummed. "I want them so much, daddy. Spank me, please."

He simply breathed. "With pleasure, little one." He knew no one would ever be this good to him.

His chest parted from your back, a small shiver settling in instead.

The first smack was harsh, angry. You clenched around him and he thrusted in violently, growling.

The second one hit the tender skin of your outer thigh, where it met your ass. "Daddy." You whined.

"Quiet." He chastised again, his voice strained. He hammered into you four or five times.

"Daddy, it hurts." You cried out, at which he stayed silent, simply spanking you again, twice, without rubbing soothingly at your skin. You emitted a shrill huffing sound of complaint, at which he answered with violent ramming into you, using both hands to push you onto his lap.

This was not how Joon usually did it. This was not normal. With worry distracting your mind, you turned your head, looking at him. His eyes were closed, droplets falling down his cheeks. Was it sweat or tears?

"Namjoon?" You asked, alarmed.

He shook his head, biting his lip. "You good?" He asked, eyes still closed.

"Stop." You murmured.

He obeyed, exiting your warmth and opening his eyes, still avoiding your gaze contact. "Did I—?"

"Look at me."

He shook his head. "I can't."

"Namjoon." You reprimanded.

As your eyes met his, you noticed they were rimmed with tears, and he was biting his lip to hold back a sob, shaking his head in shame.

Your initial shock was followed by an overwhelming sense of tenderness for the beautiful, delicate man in front of you.

You quickly decided what to do.

You turned around fully, facing him as you stood on your knees, your hands caressing his cheeks. "What is it, Joonie bear?"

He simply frowned and hid in the crook of your neck, desperate.

"What is it?" You asked again.

He nuzzled even more into your chest, inhaling the damp feel of your skin. "I just want it to be a good memory." He huffed with a broken whisper.

A memory? "Why would it be a memory, Namjoon?" You asked, confused.

"If it's our last time, I wanna be good to you." He said, and you could feel every ounce of sadness in his voice.

Last time? "Joonie bear, why would it be our last time?"

His shoulders shook with sobs as he stopped holding back his tears. "I've been a bastard, it's okay if you want to go." He tried saying in his most composed voice.

You frowned in confusion. "No, Namjoon."

"You want to leave me. It's okay. I need it only one last time."

You shook your head, trying to grab his chin and make him look at you. However, he strongly opposed.

"Joonie." You murmured, hugging his head and caressing his hair. "I'm not here to leave you." You whispered. "I want to be with you." You continued.

He shook his head even more. "I was dumb. You have every right—"

"No." You kissed his head, caressing his shoulders, hugging him tight. "I'm not going anywhere."

He looked up at you, his face covered in tears.

"Oh, baby bear." You cooed, touching his cheeks, kissing his forehead. "Don't cry, Joonie." He disappeared even more into you, hugging your entire figure, dwarfing you. "Don't cry, my love." You whispered, the word tiptoeing out of your lips. He sobbed harder. "I'm so in love with you, Joonie bear." You crooned, offering him all your soul in those simple, childish words.

"You love me?" He asked, confused, alarmed, petrified.

"I love you, Namjoon." You repeated.

He completely forgot his messy face and brought his lips to yours, his mouth melting into you eagerly as your tongues spoke a language that came so natural to both of you.

Breathless, he parted from you. "I love you. I love you so much." He pressed tens of kisses on your face with such speed and pressure that you felt like disappearing into him.

"I love you too." You giggled, trying to clean his face.

You both laughed, elated, his hands coming to your waist, holding you closer and closer. "I wanna make love to you." He whispered. "Let me love you."

"Missionary on the carpet or cowgirl on the sofa?" You asked.

"Why choose when you can have both?" He wiggled an eyebrow. You smiled. He smiled back. "Let's get on the sofa." He replied gently. "You'll catch a cold with your sweaty back on the freezing floor."

"But no missionary on the sofa…" You cried out like a child.

He smiled. "Do you want missionary so bad?" He kissed your temple, smiling.

"I guess I'll be happy with anything you want." You pouted, still doubtful.

"C'mere." He said, getting even closer. You slipped your stilettos off and he picked you up by the back of your thighs and with some strength you didn't know he had, he carried you to the sofa, careful not to step on your shoes. "I'm going to sit. Careful with your legs." He warned, plopping down as carefully and as gently as he could, mercifully avoiding to sit with your calves underneath him.

"Don't worry, I won't make you ride me, baby." He kissed your brow. "You're too tired for that." He cradled you to his chest, offering you a bit of his body heat. "Can you push it inside you for me, love?" He asked seducingly, kissing your neck.

You smiled and reached between your bodies. He was already pulsating, you knew he would come undone in a few strokes. Slowly, you lifted your hips and pushed his tip inside, making him groan.

"You're always so tight, babylove. Fuck, you feel amazing." He sucked at your neck some more, drawing a twin bruise to the one you had on the other side of your throat. "I feel like a fucking teenager with you. I can never get enough." His hips jutted a little, pushing into you while his forearm around your waist pulled you down, his hand gripping your ass.

"Daddy." You breathed out, your forehead pressed against his neck as he bottomed out.

"Yes?" He replied, soothing you with long caresses down your spine. "Does it hurt, doll?"

He had so many nicknames for you but you couldn't wait for your next. "No, daddy." He held your face away from his shoulder. "Are you sure babylove?"

Your face stretched in a slight grimace. "Maybe."

He giggled and kissed your cheek, sliding down to your mouth. "I'm sorry, Vixen." He pressed his lips to yours once and then again. "I'm so sorry, baby. For everything." He combed your hair back. "I can't promise you I'll never hurt you, but I can promise I'll try to make it better every single time." He held you close as your brow furrowed. "I love you." He whispered, one hand cradling the back of your head, the other pressing on your lower back.

"I love you too." You said right back. "But please, Joonie…"

"Need me to move?" He asked.

"I want you to cum." You murmured.

He smirked and nodded. "Want me to finger you?" He asked, already drawing short thrusts into you and helping you ride him with his forearm around you.

"Yes, please, daddy." You whined.

His right hand left the crown of your head, coming to the top of your thighs and beginning to draw small circles at the apex of your labia, the flat of his thumb wide enough to cover your bundle of nerves entirely.

"Would you like to take your time, Vixen?" He asked kindly, knowing that sometimes it took you a bit longer than him to actually get worked up.

"I just need you to keep going exactly like this. You're perfect, Joonie."

He grunted and started pushing into you from below. "Like this?" He said, his voice a tad strained.

His thrusts were low and deep, curling just enough to hit your sweet spot. He realised you started holding your breath. Usually that meant you were close.

He bent his head, looking down where your bodies joined. It was hypnotizing, his thumb drawing perfectly identical circles. He started kissing and licking any and every inch of skin that came close to his mouth, your shoulder, your chest, your neck, sucking whenever he managed to grip the skin for long enough to bruise and mark.

When you started shoving yourself on him, bouncing in earnest, he kept his cool and stopped fooling around, staying focused on lasting long enough, doing the exact same thing, knowing that with a few thrusts delivered just right, you would become like putty in his arms and he could just get crazy and chase his high.

With your lips parting in a high pitched moan, you pressed your hips to his two more times before your chest collapsed into his with a tired whimper. "Take what you need." You murmured before propping yourself with your forearms against the back of the sofa, lifting your hips. Your face was pressed at the crook beneath his jaw, your tongue blindly chasing the droplets of sweat sliding down the column of his throat. He emitted an animalistic groan before his palms thudded heavily against your glutes, gripping your hips so hard that both his knuckles and your flesh turned white. And then he started ramming into you from below. The sounds in the room were a mix of his grunts, the smacking of flesh and the wetness between your legs, but more quietly, under all those layers, in between a groan and the next, there were his whispered love declarations, which poured out of his mouth like prayers, until he was so close, so fucked out that he could only repeat 'I love you', over and over, interrupted only by a final howl as he spilled inside you.

In all of this you had tried to stay quiet, shushing him and kissing his neck, not sure that you were allowed to mark him.

You laid both exhausted, his body sliding sideways down the sofa, trying to rest on the seats, his head laying on an armrest as his ankles dangling from the other. You covered him like a blanket, your hair draping over his chest and tumbling down the edge of the sofa.

You were both sweaty and messy with cum and drool, still you simply laid there, until you felt too cold and shivered.

"Blanket?" You asked.

He shook his head. "I'd better dress you and take you back at mine. I can go home tonight. There's no use working late. I need to rest anyway."

"Are you sure." You asked, touching his face.

He kissed your wrist. "Sure."

"I have to clean your chair first. I should have some wet wipes in my handbag." You mumbled. "And I should clean myself too before I drip on your lovely sofa."

He hummed, tired, fake-crying as he said "I don't wanna get up."

"My bag is right beside the sofa, just stretch your arm backward." You directed him.

He fumbled around a bit, moving the bag from behind his head to your side, where you could easily reach inside. After a bit of rummaging, you fished out your wipes, making a quick work of pulling him out and cleaning yourself.

"Cold." He muttered with a pout, which you kissed away from his face.

"Come on, baby bear, get up and get dressed. I wanna shower with you and shower you in kisses." You pampered him, trying to convince him to get ready to leave.

He whined as you sat up, quickly dashing to recoup your underwear. Once you were wearing it, you cleaned his chair, quite happy when you noticed that it wasn't half as bad as you though. When you turned, you noticed he was staring at you, already completely dressed, your dress in his hands. You moved closer.

"Up with your arms, love." He said gently, and for a second you realised that your simple and emotional confessions weren't a mirage caused by arousal or desperation.

You followed his instructions as he helped you wear your dress, slipping it over your head and helping you find both sleeves. Next he gripped the hem at both sides, delicately rolling the fabric down your body. Once it reached your knees, he let his hands skim back up your hips and waist, crossing his wrists behind your back before squeezing your ass. He stared at your throat.

"Will I have to wear a turtleneck for the next ten days?" You asked, slipping the neck of your dress aside and checking the damage.

"Sorry." He murmured.

"It's okay. I like it. I'm just teasing you." You said with a playful smirk.

"Brat." He mouthed with a snicker, bending down to pick up your tights.

You tutted, stealing them from his hands. "Let me do these, they're tricky."

He simply stared, his body trembling with a new tide of arousal at the mannerism you used to put on the garment, rolling up one leg between your thumbs and forefingers, pressing your toes against the stitching and dragging the nylon up your leg. He had seen this scene in an old Italian movie, but seeing the gesture in real life helped him understand the frenzy that the main character experienced after such an act. After you repeated the movement on the other leg, his mouth practically salivating, he watched some more as you fixed the gusset and the waistband, stretching the garment around the curve of your ass.

"Call me whenever you need to wear those." He whispered in marvel and agony. "I might take them off you just to see it all over again."

You smiled coquettishly, grabbing your coat and wearing it.

He kneeled in front of you, holding one of your shoes. "When's your birthday?" He asked, making you lift one foot as he slipped your heel on.

You frowned, the connection unknown to you. "Mid-november. Why?"

He held your other shoe and you held onto his shoulder as you lifted your other foot, wearing the black stiletto. "I loved seeing those on you tonight. I might buy you another pair or eight as a birthday gift."

You shook your head and laughed. "I don't need a sugar daddy, I'm happy with my plain, regular one." He rose to his feet and you grabbed his cheeks, planting a big, fat smooch on his mouth. "I'm actually very, very in love."

"Hello, Actually Very, Very in Love. My name is Head Over Heels — he pointed at your shoes — in Love. Pleased to meet you."

You laughed and he felt his heart explode with joy, his nose brushing against yours with Eskimo kisses. "Your bag." He said, bending to pick it up. "My bags." He said, collecting his tote and the small paper bag with his belongings that you had brought him. He neared his desk, checking the various devices. "Equipment off, computer off–" He mumbled as he moved the mouse to shut down the system. Meanwhile you fixed the low table, putting the magazines back on top of it. He switched off his table lamp and moved towards the door. "Dinner." He reminded himself, picking up the trash bag by the entrance. "You ready, Vixen?"

You hummed in confirmation.

"Let's go."

#bangtan smut #bts smut #bangtan sonyeondan #namjoon smut #namjoon one shot #namjoon fanfic #namjoon fic #bangtan fanfic #bangtan fic #Namjoon x reader

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padfootagain · 4 years

Text

Infuriating

Here we go for a new fic for my 4.7k event!! Answering the request made by @inkhearthes for Sirius using the following prompt (they are written in italics in the fic):

9. "Does it hurt?"

"Not that... OUCH!"

10. "I can't believe you got punched in the face."

"For you. I got punched in the face for you."

11. "It's dark, and it's late, and I'm cold and I'm drenched with this freaking rain and yet all I can think about is that I love you."

34. "Cuddles, cuddles, cuddles!"

It's fluffy. A tiny bit angsty, maybe? I'm not sure, I think it's pretty fluffy.

Anyway, I hope you like it!!

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Word Count : 3683

Of course, you had to be duelling against Sirius fucking Black.

Of course, out of all the students in seventh year with you, you had to be paired with the one you hated the most.

You found him absolutely infuriating. 1000% infuriating. The most annoying person on the surface of the Earth, you reckoned.

You had been facing him for five seconds and you were already so mad at his stupid long dark hair, and his bloody cute chin, and his stormy grey eyes that didn't seem to have an end, and those stupid lips you dreamt about kissing…

Argh! Really, he was insufferable!

And why did he even pick you? You knew the reason, of course, it was just to allow his idiotic best friend to try and seduce your idiotic best friend… as if Lily wasn't already just as head over heels for James than he was for her…

And so, you found yourself paired with Sirius fucking Black, of all people, and you wanted to slap this smirk of his away, or maybe kiss it, you weren't 100% sure yet.

Because, of course, you got along perfectly well with Sirius. You were both playful and full of banter, and he was charming despite being an idiot sometimes, and he was smart too, and talented, and very very sweet, and a little dangerous maybe and…

… and you had a crush on him.

Huge, HUGE crush on him, and that was bad. Very bad. Terrible. Especially because the crush you had wasn't really a crush and more like love.

So, you were mad at him. So mad at him for making you fall for him when you never even intended to befriend him in the first place, let alone love him. And yet, there you were. All this because he was just an absolute sweetheart with a stupid sense of humour and a heart of gold despite all the pain he had been through during his childhood, and had cheekbones to die for.

Of course, how could you resist him?

So now, there you were, about to duel you friend, aka crush, aka potential love of your life, and he was acting so smug about it you heaved a defeated sigh.

Both of you knew that you were better at duelling than he was, and you would soon kick his pretty arse, but you almost felt bad for it. You had your bloody, irrational heart to blame for it all.

Your teacher was gone for just a few minutes to fetch something - you were too focused on watching Sirius laugh at that moment to listen to your professor about what he was leaving the room for.

All you knew was that there was no teacher in the room, which quickly turned into some nasty argument between a few students behind you.

Why was your name even brought up in the first place, you had no idea. All you knew was that before you could understand what was really going on, one of the Ravenclaw boys you had rejected a couple of weeks before was shooting nasty comments at you.

But when the word slut rang through the room, the whole situation got out of hands.

"Hey, Trevor, why don't you shut it!" Sirius snapped before you could have time to reply on your own.

"Sorry, Black, What were you saying? Were you talking to me?"

"I told you to shut your stupid mouth! How dare you talk about her like that? Especially you, Trevor, considering that you have the brain of a mandrake: all you can do is whine all day long."

"Say that again to my face, just to see, Black!"

"Oh, but with pleasure…"

"Sirius!" you tried to hold him back as he strode across the room, meeting Trevor halfway, standing chest against chest and taunting each other to hit first.

James and Remus had taken a step towards the boys too, ready to defend their friend if need be.

You walked over the two of them and pulled at Sirius's sleeve.

"Sirius, please. He's not worth it."

"Yes, Black, listen to your girlfriend… oh wait, you ain't together. Yeah, I bet she rejected your sorry arse."

"Coming from you, who can only insult every girl who refuses a date, I find the blow particularly ironic."

"Don't worry though, I bet she's not a good enough shag anyway. Probably aren't worth the trouble…"

"Say one more word and I'll turn you into a toad," Sirius warned the Ravenclaw, grabbing him by the collar of his robes.

He was so blinded by his rage towards the boy that he didn't see anything else in the room.

How could he dare speak of you like this? You of all people? You, who were a literal ray of sunshine, and so incredibly talented, and bright, and kind, and smart, and hilarious, and he was head over heels for you. Sirius was ready to lose his mind with how much he loved you. Had for years. Had since that night in third year where he had caught you making a trip to the kitchens at midnight and had ended up sharing his snacks with you. Since that moment that you had laughed so much you had ended up chocking on your pudding. Since that night when, for the first time, you talked through the whole night. Since that early morning when you had cried when he had told you about how his family treated him. Since the second you had wrapped your arms around him and promised him that if he needed help, he just had to call you, and you would protect him.

And now hearing some idiotic ghoul insult you was making his blood boil so much that he wasn't able to notice anything happening around him, including Trevor's fist flying across the air to land on his cheekbone and make a clear cut through his skin.

Sirius was hitting the floor before he could understand what had happened, and his body had barely hit the ground that you and the rest of the Marauders were pointing your wands towards the Ravenclaw and his friends.

You were interrupted by the sound of footsteps of your professor coming back, though.

"Y/N, get Sirius to the hospital wing," James instructed, but his friend was already back on his feet, shaking his head.

"I'm fine, Prongs. 'S just a scratch."

"You're bleeding," you argued, but he shot you a grin as an answer.

"You should still go," Remus jumped in. "Or we might all end up in detention."

You grabbed Sirius's hand.

"Come on, you idiot."

"Hey!"

But you ignored his protest and dragged him into the corridor and away from the class, heading for the Hospital Wing.

"Now, I'm not sure that if we truly want to avoid detention, going straight to Mrs. Pomfrey would be the cleverest idea," Sirius argued. "Besides, it's nothing."

You had to agree with him on that, going to Mrs. Pomfrey would get both of you in detention. It was pretty obvious by the look of Sirius's cheekbone, bloody and slowly turning from pinkish to purple, that he had been punched.

"I think I can patch you up," you offered, taking a closer look at his bruising face.

"Perfect. Let's go to my dorm then. We won't be disturbed there."

You accepted with a nod, and followed him all the way to the Gryffindor tower and to his dormitory. And the more you walked across the castle, the angrier you were. Sirius was hurt, and it was because of you. You wanted to go back and turn Trevor into a lizard. You wanted to punch him too.

And what was Sirius thinking? Acting so recklessly?

The wound colouring his cheekbone wasn't serious, but it still needed to be cleaned, so he reached for the bandages and bottles of disinfectants that the boys kept for their monthly trip to the whomping willow, just in case.

It's only when he let himself plop onto his bed with a sigh that Sirius noticed that you were glaring at him.

"What's wrong, Y/N?" he asked, tilting his head to the side.

And Merlin, did he annoy you… what was wrong? He was bleeding!

"I can't believe you got punched in the face." You shook your head.

"For you. I got punched in the face for you," Sirius corrected you, waving his finger at you pointedly, a smug smile on his face. "I reckon that you owe me one!"

"Why by Agrippa's name would you do that?" you asked, ignoring his stupid remark.

Because you weren't in the mood for his stupid charm, and his insufferable smug smiles, and his silly humour, and the way he always hid his pain behind wits. You weren't in the mood for any of that, you weren't in the mood for the way he always tried to look tougher than he was, because for so long no one had showed him any other way to deal with his emotions, except by bottling them all up in his chest. And you were tired of his tough act, and all you wanted to do now was shake some sense into his head and make him realize that someone had just hit him, and for what?! Because Trevor had insulted you?! That was most definitely not enough of a reason to get punched in the face.

But he looked at you with a curious frown, as if he didn't understand why you asked that question, as if the answer was obvious.

"He… He was making fun of you. He was insulting you. So, I defended you."

"I didn't ask you to."

"We're friends, you don't have to ask me to. I'll be there whenever you need me."

"Who says I needed you back there?"

He didn't answer, studying your expression with an unreadable look across his features.

Why were you mad?

You didn't say anything more, and reached for a clean clothe instead.

"Does it hurt?"

"Not that... OUCH!"

Sirius bucked away as you harshly pressed the piece of fabric against his wounded cheek.

"Now, don't be a baby," you mumbled under your breath, a deep frown adorning your brow.

"I'm not being a baby! You're the one being as delicate as a cave troll! Besides… what the hell is wrong with you?!"

"What?"

"What is wrong with you? Why are you mad at me?" Sirius snapped, his voice staying low, but his tone as corrosive as acid. "I've just got punched in the face for you, and you're mad at me?!"

"Yes, I am mad at you, Sirius," you replied, throwing the clothe away in exasperation. "I am mad at you, because you got punched in the face! What were you thinking?!"

"I was thinking that you needed me…"

"I don't need you, Sirius!"

The words escaped before you could refrain them, even if they were a mere lie.

Of course, you needed him. That was the point, actually. You needed him safe, and happy, and laughing. You needed his stupid long dark hair, and his bloody cute chin, and his stormy grey eyes that didn't seem to have an end, and those stupid lips you dreamt about kissing…

And you needed the way he always hid his pain behind wits, and the way he made you laugh every morning when you drank your fist swing of tea on purpose just to make you choke on it and look at how mad it made you with that stupid smirk plastered on his lips. And you needed the way he always held the door for you, and how he didn't even ask before he would pick up the mountain of books you were taking from the library for your essays. And you needed the way he said your name in that deep voice of his, and this almost-shy smile he gave you every month when he walked back from Hogsmeade and offered you a bunch of sweets from Honeydukes. Always your favourites. Every single trip to Hogsmeade ever since you had been allowed there during your third year. You needed to hear his laugh ringing through the corridors, so loud that you were aware of his presence way before seeing him. You needed his stupid pranks and his even more idiotic acts of kindness. You needed his broken parts and all his scars if only to help him make them slowly get better. You needed him. You needed him so badly, it hurt sometimes, right there, in your chest, and there was no way, absolutely no way that you would let him endanger himself for you.

You needed him more than you needed your pride or reputation.

Yet, it was the opposite that your tongue formed on its tip as you spoke.

And the words kept on ringing through his mind like a broken record, and it was more painful at each echo of your voice.

I don't need you, Sirius.

Well, that was clear, at least. No need for Sirius to keep his hopes up anymore. He had kept on hoping for you to maybe, one day, feel for him something else than a platonic friendship, but clearly you weren't on the same page. Instead, you didn't need him.

And he hated you, then. He truly did. He hated you, because he wished he could have answered with a remark just as poisonous and painful as your words had been, but he couldn’t. Not that he didn't find the right words, no the problem was more insidious.

He couldn't say it.

He couldn’t, because then, he imagined the pain crossing your features, and he couldn't bring himself to be the reason behind any of your sorrow. He was used to it, really. Being in pain in silence. Taking the punch without saying a word. Swallowing the insults without fighting back. Years of survival skills had developed while he was a child. Now, he was excellent at biting his tongue and imagining what scenarios could come out as a result of his words. He had made progress over his years spent by James's side to loosen up that tendency of his to overthink everything. That, coupled with his natural will to rebel, and he was good now at fighting with both his curses and his remarks. But not to you. No, not against you. He didn't want to use this weapon with you. He knew way too well that words were often way more effective at hurting someone than fists. The wounds cut deeper, and the scars never healed. He knew for certain that he would never forget the look on your face as you said that you didn't need him.

And he couldn't summon the strength to reply with words that would be just as painful. He had just gotten punched in the face for you, after all. That ought to speak about the way he felt for you.

So, instead of replying, he walked out of the room, leaving you behind.

It took you two hours to find him.

It was raining so hard, and the late days of September had brought a cold wind that curved the veil of droplets as they fell from the heavy black clouds above your head. The sun had almost set by now, and judging by how you were hungry, you guessed it was time for supper in the great hall. Your feet were frozen because of the mud that covered your ankles and splashed across your calves.

You had checked the shores of the lake, and Hagrid's home, and the edge of the Forest, and the Quidditch Pitch. But he was sitting a few meters away from the Whomping Willow.

He didn't seem to mind that his robes were covered in mud and drenched by now. Actually, he didn't even react as you hurried towards him.

"Sirius!" you called as you approached him. "What are you doing? It's freezing, and it's raining, you'll catch your death!"

He slowly turned his attention towards you, his grey eyes fixed upon you, his dark locks clinging to his forehead, his neck, his temples, because of the heavy rain. With the sadness in his gaze, he looked like a sad and wet puppy.

"Let's go inside," you mumbled. "You'll catch a cold, or worse. For how long have you been here?"

He took the time to look carefully at you, finding that you were just as drenched as he was, shivering in the cold rain.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, ignoring your own question.

"I was looking for you, obviously," you answered. "Now, come on, let's get you dry…"

"You were looking for me?"

"Of course! You just… disappeared, I was worried sick about you!"

He merely blinked up at you.

You heaved a sigh, swallowing your pride with the lump in your throat. You had to apologize for lying to him, and acting like an idiot, when he had simply tried to help.

You were such an idiot, sometimes…

"Look, Sirius… I'm sorry about what I said in the dorm. I didn't mean it. Please, let's go back inside."

"It's okay. I'm not mad at you," he answered with a soft smile.

"What?"

"I'm not mad. You're right, you don't need me. I was acting as if you did, but I was wrong. I guess… I thought we were closer friends than you mean for us to be. It's okay. I understand."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm used to it, really. It's fine. Sometimes, I start needing people more than they need me. It's alright, I get it."

"No, no… No, Sirius, you don't get it. I was just mad because you got punched in the face, and I was worried about you, and I said utter nonsense…"

"No need to feel bad about all this. It's okay."

"It's not okay! It's not okay, because it wasn't true!"

"Y/N…"

"It's not okay at all, how can you say that it's okay?!" you asked, starting to raise your voice. "I hurt you! And I was mean! And I shouldn't have said that, because it's not true at all! So be mad at me!"

"I… I don't want to be mad at you…"

"I'm sorry!"

"I forgive you, alright… are you, are you crying?"

It's only then that you noticed that hot tears were mingling with the cold rain across your cheeks.

"I'm so sorry. I never want to make you feel like that. I'm so sorry," you whimpered.

"It's… it's alright."

"I was lying. It's not true. Please, don't say that we're not friends anymore. I do need you. I do need you, Sirius. And I hate it! I hate it, but I need you! And it's… It's dark, and it's late, and I'm cold and I'm drenched with this freaking rain and yet all I can think about is that I love you."

You didn't seem to notice your confession as it passed your lips, and for a moment, Sirius wondered if he had heard you right. But there was no mistake, you… you had said it.

You loved him?!

Slowly, he stood up, while you kept on crying.

"I was just mad at you because… because you mean so much to me, and I… I hate to see you hurting. I hate to see you in pain. And I hate it… I hate it when people are mean to you. I'm so sorry. I was so worried about you. I'm…"

But you were shushed by Sirius's arms wrapping around you, encaging you all of a sudden. You needed a few seconds for your brain to register what was actually happening. But it was his arms pressed against your back, and it was his chest against yours, and it was his cheek against yours.

"It's alright," he spoke in a soft, warm voice. "I'm not mad. I forgive you."

Finally, you wrapped your arms around his frame too, your tears finally stopping.

"Thank you, for defending me," you eventually whispered in his ear, your warm breath such a burning contrast with the cold air against his skin, making him tremble in the best way.

"Anytime. We should go back inside though, you're frozen."

"Yeah, I'm really cold."

"You know what… I think we could cuddle. Cuddles, cuddles, cuddles!" he mumbled, making you sway from one foot to the other, and you couldn’t refrain a laugh at his silly behaviour.

"I'd like that," you nodded. "With blankets."

He hummed in agreement.

"But… are we gonna discuss the fact that you've just told me you love me?"

Your heart stopped altogether.

"Did I?" you asked, although you knew perfectly well that he was right.

What had passed through your brain to make you say something like that?

"Yeah, you did."

You looked for the right words to apologize, but Sirius was faster than you to speak again.

"So… What about we go to Hogsmeade together next month?"

You pulled away just enough to be able to look at him.

"Are you… Are you asking me on a date?" you asked.

"Maybe…"

"Maybe?"

"Depends on… whether you'll say yes or no."

"What would we do then, if it's a date?"

"I have a few ideas. Know about a couple of places we could visit. I know you'll like them."

"Already? You already know what we're gonna do? Even if you've literally just asked?"

"Maybe… just maybe… I've been imagining that for a while," he admitted, blushing.

You couldn't help the grin that formed on your lips.

"Really?"

"Yeah… really… but… huh… you have to give me an answer before I get my hopes too high…"

But your grin didn't waver. And when you stared at his eyes, he could read your answer already, without needing you to speak the words.

Still, it was a nice thing to hear, and a nice thing to say, so you answered out loud anyway.

Merlin, Sirius was infuriating. And you loved him so much.

"Yeah, I'd like to go on a date with you, Sirius Black."

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

Tag list : @geeksareunique @giggleberts @justanothermaraudersblog @sad-orange-thoughts @aylinnmaslow @benbarnes-world @ladyblablabla @drinix @joelynnp @mxrihollxnd @mikeselevenn @knowledgeisthebomb @madamrogers @newtstarmander @wangmangagavroche @inkhearthes

@ponycake27 @horsesreign @xinyourdreamsx @jbluevelvet @notkeppeki @daynigt-dreamer-stuff @fudgeflyss @stuckupstucky @snek-shit @suchatinyinfinity @i-padfootblack-things @buckybsarmy @heyohheyitsgabi@jigsawlover10 @emyyjemyy @addictedtofictionalcharacters @staringmoony

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pomegranates-and-blood · 3 years

Text

Play Pretend (500 Celebration)

500 Celebration Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar/Reader

Prompt: From the Love Tropes category: “Blackmail”

Word Count: 1596

Warnings: Modern!AU, angst, Ivar being a dick, nothing else I can think of.

A/N: This ain’t the fluffiest piece, it’s not fluffy at all, but hey, it’s marginally less angsty than the last one, that I can promise you.

To be honest, idk what this is, and I am not certain it is any good. But I’ve been dealing with one hell of a writer’s block lately, and I really needed to just write what came to mind. Hope you enjoy!

You eye the name flashing on your phone screen, and though a part of you really doesn’t want to answer, you still do.

“I would have thought you caught on that I really didn’t want to talk after the fourth day. This is bordering on stalking, you know.”

“Is it stalking if you gave me your number?” Ivar retorts without missing a beat, and you sigh.

“I assume you have a reason to call me. Unless missing the sound of my voice became too much to bear.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Is it flattery if it is true?” You taunt back, only to then chastise yourself for falling into familiar patterns.

“I heard your mother’s firm is taking over Ragnar’s newest countersuit.” Ivar starts, choosing to ignore your words.

“Ah, you just happened to hear that?”

“I might have asked,” He concedes, before taking a breath and continuing, “You know I’m going to England with him, right? His last meeting with Ecbert before he retires,” You offer only a hum in response, but something like dread and worry churns at your stomach. It is never a good sign when Ivar sounds so damn pleased with himself. “My father listens to me, trusts my advice.”

“If you’re going where I think you are…”

He interrupts you, words cutting and cold, “I could have your mother’s firm dropped before she even gets to sign anything.”

“I would say something about how blackmail isn’t the way to mend things with your ex, but…”

“You know better.” He tells you, the dry tone making the beginning of a smile pull at your lips, lips that you furrow when you notice the evidence of your foolishness.

____

A very lengthy argument and a plane ride after, you’re back in Kattegat, enough clothes for a week and a scowl on your brow that you think might be stuck there from now on.

Six months ago your mother started insisting that, now that you had gotten engaged to ‘one of the Lothbroks’, you should consider starting to work more closely with her; five months ago you freaked out at the mere idea of it and decided to do the exact opposite and take an internship opportunity in a non-profit in Nepal; four months ago Ivar said that if you were running away and leaving that you might as well break it off.

In none of those four months he considered letting his family know that long distance didn’t work -not that he even tried- and that you had broken up.

So now you are set for a week in the Lothbrok’s home for Björn’s wedding, pretending you never broke up with Ivar with the threat of your mother losing her contract looming over your head.

Which makes all of this fucking fantastic.

“You should have told them,” You say for what feels like the thousandth time, eyeing his profile carefully. “You should have told her.”

“You’re not here to tell me how to handle my family.” Ivar points out gruffly through gritted teeth.

“No, I’m here to pretend we haven’t broken up four months ago,” You scoff at the ridiculousness of the situation, turning to look back out the window. “Because that is a very healthy thing to do.”

“Healthier than moving to the ass-end of nowhere because someone suggested the possibility of you committing to something for once in your life.”

“I commit!” You protest immediately, frowning at his doubtful glare, “I committed to you!”

“You left me.” Ivar accuses without missing a beat, rage flaring and eyes set intently on you. Your mouth falls open at the fucking audacity of this man.

“No, don’t turn this on me. You-…” You bite back the words with a groan of frustration, running your hands through your hair before sighing, “You know what? It doesn’t matter.”

Resting back against the seat and wondering not for the first time how much these people pay their drivers to not blurt out every little secret that they overhear, you close your eyes and focus on the dull thrum of the car speeding through the highway.

Most of all you dread seeing Aslaug, if you are honest. The woman always did have a keen eye to notice everything about everyone, or at least the confidence to pretend she did. If you’re honest, she…intimidates you.

You tell yourself she has no idea you and Ivar broke up, which would give her no reason to hate you. She was always warm towards you since Ivar first introduced you as his girlfriend. Her eyes were even glistening with pride and happiness when you walked in with a ring on your finger.

You jump in your seat, turning frantic eyes to the man that sits next to you.

“Oh, Gods, the ring! Y-Your mother’s ring, I d-…”

Your words are cut short and left choked in a dying gasp with only a movement of Ivar’s hand, that now extends between you with the engagement ring in the palm of his hand.

He doesn’t even look your way when he offers it, but when you reach cautious fingers to grab it, you could swear his hand trembles slightly.

Sliding it back over your finger feels strange, and for a moment it feels so warm it burns. You toy with the ring idly, and cannot keep the words from tumbling out of your mouth.

“You kept it.”

“Of course I did, it’s my Ma’s.”

Of course, how stupid of you. You curse the useless hope that unbidden sneaked up on you.

You decided to leave, you remind yourself. Hell, you are considering agreeing on making the original six months of your internship last a year instead.

Granted, agreeing to making it a year may be more out of fear of coming back home than of truly wanting to stay there. But still, you shouldn’t be holding out hope that there’s something left, or that there might be something to come back to Kattegat for.

“R-Right.” You nod for emphasis, but it is to conceal the way you have to swallow hard to keep your composure.

After a while of silence, either because your curiosity always got the better of you or because you need to make sense of this insane ruse you are about to partake in, you ask,

“Why are you doing this, Ivar?”

“Hm? Doing what?” He asks, at your stern glare looking back out the window and shrugging one shoulder, “I didn’t want to tell them.”

“You’ll have to, eventually.”

“Not now,” He states, a little harsher, making you realize you’ve struck a nerve. His eyes find yours for a moment before he returns his gaze to the road that passes you by, and the manor that approaches quite quickly. “But now…now Björn is getting married and…that should have been us, you know.”

“W-What?”

“The wedding, the…the everything,” He grits his teeth, and his hand tightens into a fist before it loosens, the gesture familiar only now he lacks the crutch at his side to grip tightly in anger. Your eyes trace his profile intently, and you hold your breath waiting for him to talk. Ivar takes a breath, shoulders rising and falling slowly, “I should have married you.”

“So what? So you could make me stay in Kattegat?” You ask, maybe a bit more bitingly than you should.

“You loved me,” He states, proud even he makes it sound like an accusation, “You told me no one made you feel like I did, that you would never love someone like you loved me. Was that a lie, hm?”

All the answer you can offer is a glare and words kept stubbornly at the tip of your tongue. It is cruel to throw your words back at you, but you wouldn’t put it past him, since all of this is a cruel and sick game.

He is the one that broke up with you, he is the one that told you to mail him the ring back, he is the one that made things what they are; and yet he uses power and blackmail to get you to play a part. All the while refusing to admit he is the reason why you have to pretend in the first place.

But you are not deluded enough to tell yourself this is unlike Ivar. He is as ruthless as his father, maybe even more so, and he has the single-minded focus that Ragnar lacks. You aren’t sure if that last thing is a positive or a negative.

The car parks at the entrance of the lavish home you know by heart now, and Ivar takes a deep breath, looking at you one last time.

His words before he leaves the car leave you cold and stunned for a few moments,

“You’ll remember how good it was, you’ll see. I’ll make you forget all about leaving me.”

Scrambling to get out, you walk around the car to stand at his side, looking up at him with wide eyes, “So they know? They know a-and you made me come here to make me be with you again?”

Ivar frowns, as if you are the one that’s not making any sense.

“They don’t know,” He insists, the hand not on the crutch grasping at your left one, fingers running over the ring with appalling familiarity. You are left to wonder how much of this game of play pretend he is willing to make himself believe as true when he offers a smile that feels like home and says, “I don’t lie to you, you know that.”

____ ____ ____

Thank you so much for reading, I hope this was okay! I’ll be trying to post two or three celebration thingies three days a week from now on, so that’s it for today but I’ll hopefully see you tomorrow!

Also, some things in the masterlist may be changed (Echoes, for example, was supposed to be a Hvitserk one), so I might change the “Fake Relationship” for Ivar and write a sequel to this.

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius @xbellaxcarolinax @1950schick @ietss @peachyboneless @encounterthepast @maggiescarborough @chibisgotovalhalla @fae-sedai @zuxiezendler @crazybunnyladysworld @stupiddarkkside @northumbria @sagyunaro

#ivar the boneless x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar the boneless #ivar #500 fucking hell thank you ily

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lumiereandcogsworth · 3 years

Text

Fanfic Writer 20 Questions!

tagged by @misscrazyfangirl321 thank u :))

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

48 in total! 46 for batb lol

2. what’s your total ao3 word count?

115,935 !!!

3. how many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

okay i mean, technically i have three on ao3. i wrote ONE fic for law & order svu and it’s an entirely irrelevant fic now because what i wrote about HAPPENED. but people still read it every now and then so i just leave it up. and i also wrote an epilogue fic for the netflix film juanita. i’m not in that fandom cuz that fandom doesn’t really exist but i watched the movie for a film class and i literally turned that fic in as my project for it (yes i got 100% yes go read the fic). so pretty much all i write for is beauty and the beast 2017, my beloved :)

4. what are your top five fics by kudos?

1. his perfect reality

2. after the kiss

3. sunrise, anew

4. sleepless nights

5. do me the honor

all batb 2017, and i think those are also my most read fics just in different order, so this checks out!

5. do you respond to comments? why or why not?

i do! i always try and say thanks and show my appreciation for my readers cuz yeah i’m writing for me but gosh we love the feedback, lads

6. what’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

fading memories is your dream, for SURE. 99% of my fics end in a very happy and fluffy way. the only ones that end angsty are my young adam fics, and that one is the Big Boy Prequal Fic that ends in a perfectly tragic way that should lead you right to the beginning of batb 2017. it’s all angst, man.

7. do you write crossovers?

no but i’m not against them! i think they can be fun :) emily and i have an ongoing crossover universe but we’ve never written any fics it just exists through our insane texts and incorrect quotes sjdksj

8. have you ever received hate on a fic?

thankfully, no! the batb readers are all very kind and sweet!! (or at least the ones who read my fics lol)

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

nope nope the furthest i’ll go is making out and even then i’m not graphic or detailed at all

10. have you ever had a fic stolen?

no not that i’m aware of 👀 is someone out there stealing my domestic fluff???

11. have you ever had a fic translated?

again not that i’m aware of but i would be so honored

12. have you ever co-written a fic before?

well no not besides me and @ilikebigassbuttsandicannotlie’s crossover universe but it’s not exactly in fic form. and i collab’d with @drawnby27emilys but i did the writing and she did the illustrating, we stuck to our strong suits, lol.

13. what’s your all-time favorite ship?

adam and belle from beauty and the beast 2017 are quite nearly the only ship i have paid any attention to in the last 4 years!!

14. whats a wip that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

hmmm. maybe i’m just optimistic but i feel like i’ll get to everything eventually. there’s one really long fic that i’ve written so many bits and pieces of but never just sat down and written it. mostly for technical plot reasons that i just don’t spend enough time trying to work out. OH! there’s that fic idea i got from that dream i had where it was modern au and adam had a little sister. SHOOT bro i do wanna write that. i wrote so much dialogue for it that next day but the wip itself is hardly anything :(

15. what are your writing strengths?

setting the scene and just painting the picture really nicely so you can see everything clearly. little details that make you feel like you’re watching it. i don’t know, character blocking? i think about what they’re doing a lot, with their hands or where they’re looking or whatever. also i think i’m pretty good at dialogue but that’s just cuz adam and belle are in my head all day long so i know their voices very well

16. what are your writing weaknesses?

conflict for sure. i’m too much of a fluffy writer!! i don’t like writing arguments or them getting mad at each other unless it’s stupid domestic stuff then it’s funny. i’m really good at writing the reconciling/making up lol but i seriously need to work on creating conflict. i just get too attached and i don’t like to see them fight even though i know everyone does and it’s a part of building the relationship >:( and even if it’s not adam and belle i just need to be better at writing it in general, for my oc’s and such. do it for the kids, lyd!

17. what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in another language?

it’s very cool in the correct context!! i can’t do it really but hell yeah!! obviously with batb being in france i sometimes use french terms of endearment, mostly for lumiere lmao, but that’s about all i’m capable of! in my recent kiddos fic i tried out some familial titles like pépère for grandpa maurice and tata & oncle for auntie plumette and uncle lumiere <3 that was fun!

18. what was the first fandom you ever wrote for?

bbc sherlock babeyyyy. i used to hand-write sherlock childhood fic in a journal??? i didn’t even know what fic was i just liked giving him a backstory haha. i did the same for loki but in my phone notes app. i’m nothing in not a sucker for the sad and innocent childhood backstories of very sad men apparently!

19. what’s your favorite fic you’ve ever written?

oh man this is so hard. i’m proud of a lot of my work! majesty of a different breed comes to mind honestly. it’s one of my longer ones and i just truly love how it turned out. i think my descriptors are so good and i capture adam and belle’s dynamic as a newly married couple really well, i think. and i give them a dog! how can you not have a good time reading that fic!

honorable mentions to easy to remember, harder to move on — my maurice memories fic that i also really love. AND fading memories is your dream! my longest work and gosh, i really do love the tragic backstories bro!!! big proud of both of those too :)

(and this one cuz it’s too soft and i’ll never not love seeing my otp be the sweetest parents ever)

20. who do you tag?

if you’re a writer and you wanna do this you can totally say i tagged you!! but i’ll tag some writers off the top of my head! @leighswhannell @ilikebigassbuttsandicannotlie @lumiereswig @myfellowcandlesticks @thesadchicken @sweetfayetanner @tinydooms @trulyhopelessromantic @ceasarslegion

#this was so fun i love talking about my writing #proud of all my lil babies #lydia writes!#tagged

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punksarahreese · 3 years

Note

Dude omg for ghost!ava “For your love I'll do whatever you want” could be either fluffy or angsty and is what makes me go more feral 🍑

Connor mulled it over in his head for a while, unable to really come to terms with it all. Even though he had been there, he had seen Ava severe her own carotid and he had been the one to try- and fail - to clean up her mess. It was hard to adjust to, he didn’t want to adjust. Even as he called the time of death, his stomach falling as he uttered those unforgiving numbers, Connor wanted it to be a horrible dream.

He shouldn’t feel so bad for Ava, a part of him argued, she deserved it. She killed his father for God’s sake; why would she deserve to live after that. Still, Connor was human and a part of him had truly loved Ava. Maybe their relationship never would have worked out, maybe she had a lot of problems, but she was Ava. She had been so prevalent in his life for those couple years, every surgery and argument and make up. Besides, she was so talented and hard working, she didn’t deserve to lose her life this way.

Connor tried to think about the warning signs he missed, even though it ripped out a little piece of his sanity each time. He realized that a lot of what Ava did, what she said, could have been a cry for help. She wasn’t just focused and hard working; she had been obsessive and borderline neurotic. She didn’t just love, instead she became consumed by it all. Her moods changed like the time of day, overwhelming them both, and it never got better. Maybe she did those things, sleeping with his father and being reckless in surgery, just to get his attention. Though perhaps it wasn’t the attention he thought. Maybe Ava had been screaming for help this whole time and he didn’t realize until it was far too late.

He thought about one night in particular, a few months before it all happened. They had been in Ava’s bed, pressed about as close as humanly possible. Ava had paused her assault of burning kisses along his skin, looking up at Connor with a flame of something almost terrifying yet entrancing in her eyes.

“You know,” she started as she ran her thumb over his jawline idly, “For your love, I’ll do whatever you want.”

In the moment it didn’t feel as gut wrenching, he didn’t believe she would stick so true to her claim, and now it hit way too hard. He had merely kissed her after that, distracting them both from the words, but Ava never forgot. She had taken him too literally when he said he just wanted his father to leave them alone. Ava had been horribly honest, maybe that was the biggest red flag that Connor had ignored, and now he was kicking himself over it.

Ava had been begging for help for months, yet even as her personality shifted and changed slowly she never lost one thing. Ava Bekker was loyal past the point of normal and in the end that had been the fatal flaw of their relationship and her life. He could have saved her and his dad, if only he had truly listened to her for once.

#oh you let me go feral for this one #<3 #my aus #ava bekker #connor rhodes #rhekker #mutuals #mehr tag #asks #16:22 #time of death!au #death tw #cj add this to your fic masterpost #crockettstiddies

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f00tball-imagines · 3 years

Text

Clandestine Meetings - James Rodríguez

Player: James Rodríguez

Word count: 1.280

Prompt: “Hello, can the next swap sunday projects be another part of Illciit Affairs (for you) and a sequel to Mirrorball (for Laura)? ✨” (Request by Anon)

A/N: Another Swap Sunday, another angsty James piece! ✨💗 This story is a sequel to @alltoolewin’s Mad Woman-inspired imagine 🥰 If you’re new here, you should read my Illicit Affairs fic first, though! 💖

His name lights up on my phone screen. Which lights up my pitch black bedroom. James pink heartlet-purple heartlet-sparkly heartlet. Because a single red one would have been inappropriate. I know damn well that my name in his phone isn't even a name. Just my first initial. Not even a full stop after it. A lonesome letter. Because apparently, that's much less suspicious.

James pink heartlet-purple heartlet-sparkly heartlet wants to know whether I'm still awake at this ungodly hour. After not talking to me for two whole weeks. "Yes," I type into the message box. I'm a fucking fool for texting back. I hit send. I hit my head against the wall. I'm in love with a married man who's kicking a ball around for a living. Who possibly can't and won't love anything or anyone that isn't his daughter. I'm a fucking mess. Please, James, get a pair of glasses, another one, a better one. What do you even want from me? I can't drink from a can unless someone's asking the waiter for a straw. I can't ask waiters for straws because I'm goddamn shy. I can't. I just can't. So why can't James find himself someone better?

My phone vibrates twice. Three simple letters. A "W", a "Y" and a "D". And a lonely question mark. I don't know who's teaching him English slang, abbreviations, the cool stuff. I don't even know why he's pretending to be cool. As I said, the man kicks a ball around for a living. That's not cool. That's fucking weird, now that I'm thinking about it.

"Nothing." What would I be doing at three in the morning? I spend my nights staring at my ceiling unless we're having sex. He knows that. "You?" Did I ask out of common courtesy or do I really want to know what's keeping him awake tonight?

He replies right away. "I'm in bed, I just can't fall asleep."

"Try drinking some tea. That helps."

He sends me an emoji, the facepalming one. I have to laugh, I really cannot help it, but I do find it hilarious when grown-ass men unironically use anything more than just a normal smiley or the occasional thumbs up. James pink heartlet-purple heartlet-sparkly heartlet ups the ante then. "You're a pain in the ass, princesa."

"You're a pain in-" I stop in my tracks. In my fucking vagina. I delete what I've written so far, just to type it out again. "You're a pain in general, Jamesito." I find myself giggling into the darkness. "My aches are developing aches because of you." I add the one emoji with the bandaged head, then I hit send.

"Want me to kiss it better?" It should've been "you're a pain in my vagina". Definitely.

"James, you're being silly. It's half past three. Go to sleep."

"Told you I'm fucking restless. Talk to me." Pouty puppy-eyed emoji. Dude, please!

I sigh, putting the phone down for a second. Yeah, sure. All of a sudden, I'm interesting again. Because there isn't anything else to entertain him. Of course. I should've known. "What about?" My text immediately is marked as read, homeboy isn't even closing our chat in-between messages it seems. I should be flattered, but instead, I just feel like there's something weird about this. Like, why don't you talk to your wife? Why aren't you on video call with your daughter? It's barely nine in Medellín, I know that. Of course I know that, I've pinned Colombia's local time to my home screen.

"Can I call you?"

You have a fucking phone in your hand. You certainly can. "No. Come over." I hate myself for putting myself through that. I hope he's got somewhere to be in the morning. I can't help but wish for him to turn me down.

"Now?"

Now... Now it's my turn to send him a facepalming emoji. No. Next Christmas, dummy.

"Okay," he replies after a split second. Okay, I'm coming over? Okay, cool, a stupid little emoji? Okay, fuck off? Okay what? Another second passes. Buzz buzz. "I'll be there in ten."

"Drive safe," my fingers type out. Crash that fucking car. After running me over, of course. End our misery. Please and thank you. I roll out of bed to put on some pants. He can deal with my washed out tee, he's seen worse. My naked body, for example. I stumble into the bathroom to pile on mascara, to take the fluffy, pink scrunchie out of my hair, to wash the thin film of cold sweat off my forehead. I don't know nervousness when it comes to him. There's just... anxiety. Every time we have one of our little fall-outs, my amount of working braincells gets reduced by two.

I sit down on the toilet lid to catch my breath. I'm gonna get dicked down and then discarded. It's okay, I'm used to it. I'm a one-trick-pony. But I'm just so good at that one trick that James keeps on crawling back to me. The pinkish polish on my nails is starting to chip, so I decide to adorn my fingers with a few rings to distract from that. They look cheap, they were cheap, but I consider them cute, so it's alright.

I don't like texting after my autocorrect has dubbed him Hummus not once, not twice, but several times. He doesn't like calling as his stutter tends to get worse on the phone. So this is nice. The real thing is always nice. "I missed you," he rasps with his arms still wrapped around my torso. "I missed you, too," I whisper back. Lies. I spent a long, long time cursing his name, relatively sure that I would never be moaning it again, that we were over and done. "I still haven't said Happy New Year," he states the obvious. We haven't spoken since Christmas. "No," I confirm, shaking my head. It was the worst New Year's Eve of my life. I've seen the pictures Daniela had posted on her Instagram. At least James has had a great time, apparently.

"Sorry. I thought I should leave you alone." Yes. Because that's the easy way out. "But... Happy New Year. I guess."

"Thanks. To you, too." It truly feels like New Year's. Waiting for the big something, just to end up disappointed because the big something turns out to be some underwhelming bullshit. "Better late than never." There's still snow on the streets, so it's alright, I guess.

"Yes."

"You're fucking annoying, James."

"Oh. Why?" And fucking stupid as well.

"Did you really come over to stand around in my hallway and wish me a Happy New Year? What are you? A caroler?"

"You told me to come."

"I'm not used to you doing as you're told." I force a laugh. I'm not used to niceties and such. I'm used to... the bad stuff.

He just shrugs. He's so unbelievably apathetic, I hate it! "You have the place to yourself tonight?"

"No. You're here with me." I know quite well that he was referring to my roommate. Who, in fact, is staying with her boyfriend for the weekend. I know quite well that he only asked because he is the furthest thing from an exhibitionist I could imagine.

"Ah. Yes. True." So damn stupid! I wish I could get up and leave. But I'm already standing and there's no way to escape my own apartment. "Well?" I ask in an awful attempt to make conversation. Well, he's gonna fuck me. He's gonna break my heart once again and I'm gonna like that. We've been there before. And we're gonna be there time and time again.

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secretbondsandloveconfessions · 4 years

Text

All Bastards Are Brothers

Just a series of kinda fluffy, kinda angsty one-shots about the brotherly bond between Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel. Stories are not connected.

Ao3:

Part 1: Knowin’ My Fate Is To Be With You

Azriel shows up to dinner one night with a hickey, leaving the Inner Circle full of questions. Rhys and Azriel have a heart to heart.

“Az, what's that?"

Mor asked. He traced her glance back to the crook of his neck where, after a moment of thought, he remembered the dark purple bruise given to him only a few hours before. He quickly covered it up with a wisp of shadow and feigned innocence.

"What's what?"

"On your neck there." She pointed at the shadow. "Was that a bruise?"

"There's nothing there."

"Bullshit, move your shadows."

"I don't think I need to, there's nothing there."

"What's going on down here?" Cassian turned to face them. This could only go downhill from here.

"Azriel has a hickey," Mor said, her voice chipper and mocking.

"I do not."

"Then why won't you show me your neck?"

"Why won't you believe me?" He shot back. He was always ready to accept a challenge, and as Mor stuck her tongue out at him, he did the same.

Cassian watched the two curiously before clearing his throat. "You know, Az, before you go all defensive, you should know you're blushing." Shit. That wasn't good. He could feel his face heat up faster than he anticipated. He didn't dare look at Elain, but he felt her heavy gaze. Her very own blush was likely brushing down her pale skin as she watched him get berated for the mark that she left.

"Fine." Azriel removed his shadows and hissed. "It's a hickey."

"I knew it!" Mor cheered loudly, gaining the rest of the attention of the table. He faced Cassian again, who had a feline smirk. "Who?"

He kept his mouth shut. Any name would be a lie—one that Mor would be able to sense—and he wasn't about to bring Elain down with him.

"Second one this week," Cassian said. "I think Azriel has a side piece."

"Second one?" Mor raised an eyebrow at him, and Azriel wanted to cringe at the memory of the training earlier this week. His face felt hot. If he had blushing before, he had to be scarlet by now, especially after Cassian walked over and pointed to the place between Azriel's wings, causing Mor to squeal with delight.

Azriel had chugged the rest of his wine by the time Cassian sat down again and cursed the Mother for his luck.

"Neck and the wings? I didn't know you had it in you, Azzie," Cassian teased. Azriel weaved the shadows around him further, wondering if he should just winnow away at this point.

"How long has this been going on? Do we know her?" Mor asked. "OH! Is it the female who hit on you at Rita's?"

Azriel kept silent, refusing to answer either of his friends' remarks. Though that only seemed to spur them on more.

"Azzie, she was a hot one, no wonder you kept her for yourself," Cassian followed, and Azriel braced himself as the blonde opened her mouth again, but it never came.

"Alright, leave him alone," Rhys intervened. "He's one snigger away from disappearing into the shadows forever."

Cassian and Mor protested, but he only raised another hand.

"You never stop them from mocking me," Cassian mumbled. "That's all I'm saying."

"You make yourself a target, boy." Amren chimed in.

Mor laughed loudly at that, before pouring both of them another glass. Azriel was thankful for the subconscious reaction and the change of subject.

However, he only got a few moments of peace before he felt Rhys's warm presence ask to enter his mind, and despite his better judgment, Azriel let him in.

I'm impressed. Rhys purred into his brain from the other side of the table.

Fuck you.

More like fuck you if we're going with the evidence.

What do you want?

Let's chat tonight. Rhys vacated his mind, though not without leaving in his mind a picture of Azriel's own face, thoroughly red and sheepish, and a mocking laugh. He knew Rhys wouldn't be his savior tonight.

———

Azriel would be lying if he said he wasn't nervous, so as he knocked on the open door of the study, he pressed his lips together and grimaced.

"You wanted to talk?" Azriel asked.

Rhys nodded, leaning against his desk. "I did, and I do."

Feyre sat next to him, absorbed in a pile of paperwork, and if Azriel was about to have the conversation he thought he was going to have, then he definitely didn't want her there. He sent a pleading look to Rhysand, who, much to his credit, understood. "We'll go out to the balcony."

With a kiss to Feyre's head, his High Lord led him out to the private deck, and the anxiety in Azriel's stomach soared, his shadows swirling around him.

"I'm assuming this is about earlier."

"You're seeing someone," He stated, watching as Azriel nodded. "And I had no idea. You didn't tell any of us, which makes me think that Amren's assessment was true."

"What did Amren say?"

"She muttered something to me about you being the only male she can stand because you hide every aspect of your romances. She was wrong, Az. You've kept them out of the spotlight, but you've never lied about being with them, not like you did tonight. It made me wonder, what makes this one different?" Azriel remained silent, unwilling to answer his brother's question. Luckily, Rhys answered it for him. "I can only think of three reasons why you'd keep the identity of your lover secret."

"I see you've put a lot of thought into this."

"It's not often that you take extra measures with a lover." A valid point. "I want you to be happy, brother, truly, so please don't hide yourself from me—you have a record of doing that, you know. Will you promise me that you won't lie about anything?"

"Will you promise not to tell the others?" Azriel asked him, quietly. "You can tell Feyre, I wouldn't ask you to keep something like this from your mate."

"I swear it on the graves of my mother and sister."

"I won't lie to you then." A fond smile crossed Rhys's face.

"Good, well, I want to make sure this person is worth it, so I'll start by asking, is this secret lover worth putting the strain forward?"

"Yes," was all he could think to say. He didn't trust himself to say anymore. Rhysand's smile got bigger, spilling over into his violet eyes, and Azriel felt himself blush a little once more. Rhys was always the most sentimental out of the three.

"Good. I'm glad they're worth it. Now, I have questions. Number one, you're ashamed of this person."

Azriel looked up in alarm. "Why would I be ashamed?" Cauldron, he would scream it to the entire Night Court that he loved Elain Archeron. The entirety of Prythian if he had to.

"I thought that maybe you had gotten tangled up with someone you shouldn't, like a Spring Court Lady, or a human, or I thought for a long moment, that maybe she wasn't a she after all..." Azriel raised his eyebrow at the last one.

"What?"

"Well, it occurred to me that I didn't know if you took males in bed, and then I started thinking, that if you really hadn't wanted us to know, you could and would hide it very well. I'm not here to judge, but if you say yes, then I feel like this chat will get a little more heartfelt than intended." Rhys rambled on, scratching the back of his neck. Azriel almost pitied him.

"I've never taken a man to bed, Rhys, and I do not plan too."

"Okay, good because I was lousy at talking to Mor about that."

"...and she's not lesser fae either."

"All right then, number two: is this a protective 'She's my mate' scenario?"

"No, I don't think we're mates."

"Are you sure?"

"Most people don't find their mates, Rhys," Azriel reminded him, masking the annoyance in his voice. Just because both he and Cassian found their mates didn't mean they all would.

"True. Number three: she's someone we know. In that case, my only question is how sweet, flower growing Elain is able to bruise an Illyrian."

Azriel gaped at him, demanding. "How?"

"The only person redder than you at dinner, which, by the way, was the highlight of this decade, was dear sweet Elain. Feyre told me that she thought Elain too innocent to hear it. I didn't quite think so."

"Are you going to have this little chat with her also?"

"Oh, I think she'll suffer enough from her own embarrassment than to have me do it again. Besides, you're more fun to torture."

"Can't you go tease Cassian?"

"We both know why I can't do that..." Rhys said candidly, and Azriel didn't dare to be hopeful that Rhys would drop the subject. Rhys's small frown turned into another smile soon after, and Azriel swallowed. "You hardly ever have anything for me to talk about anyway. I need to utilize this situation to its full potential. In fact, after you inform my mate of my win, I'm going to ask her to paint your lovely face...you remember the one?"

Rhys sent the same picture of Azriel's blushed face. Azriel rolled his eyes and spoke. "Shut it, Rhys."

To his surprise, Rhys did, choosing instead to turn towards the railing and look over the glittering lights of Velaris. Azriel did the same and took another sip of his wine.

"When do you think you'll tell everyone else?" Rhys said after a moment.

"Oh, I don't know, I'd rather have tonight fade from their minds before I say anything, though I suppose that's rather optimistic of me."

"I don't think Cassian and Mor will let that go, brother, but you can deal with them."

"Well, then there's always Nesta...And I'd rather not have my cock ripped off of my body."

Rhys cringed. "She's going to be a hard one to convince, my sympathies lie with you."

"My only hope is that she and Cassian can distract each other."

"Again, optimistic."

"True," he said cordially before quickly adding, "But I suppose it's up to Elain, really. She's much more conservative in these matters."

Rhys scoffed, "The irony in that statement. You two are made for each other."

"Excuse me?"

"Don't bullshit me. You do the same exact thing."

"I do not," Azriel insisted, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.

"Az, when's the last time you had a quick fuck?"

"Wh—?" Azriel sputtered. "That's none of your concern."

Rhysand gave him a long look before he turned it into a sickening grin. Azriel wanted to slap it off his face. "You were saying?"

"Go fuck yourself," he laughed.

#a court of thorns and roses #fanfiction #rhysand #elriel fanfiction #humor #azriel #elain archeron #bat bros #elriel #feysand #rhys #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #elriel fic

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zeppelin-and-unicorns · 3 years

Note

so i’ve read your entire fanfic recs lists and thank you so much for making it!! it introduced me to some of my fave fics like I Think It’s A Real Waste by Jaded Angel and That’s My Baby by kezztip (not including your works of course because i love them all). but now i’m at a lost of what to read. do you have any current fics or fics you would add to your lists?

p.s. so excited RYLH is gonna be updated soon!!! i am seriously in love with that story that it’s my pick me up fic

I'm glad my fanfic recs post was useful to you!! I spent a lot of time making that and I love ALL the stories I recommended.

[do you have any current fics or fics you would add to your lists?] -- Oh hell yeah, a lot of new fics came out after I made that post, and I've found a few more old ones. I'll list them all below (this is going to be LONG):

Multichapters:

all that glitters by SparklingSoul (canon divergence s3):

After getting into some hot water, Jackie and Hyde find themselves thrust into an unlikely partnership-- a partnership where in the lines of morality quickly become blurred as they lead each other down a questionable path to cope with their less than ideal home lives.

This story is a WIP.

Y'ALL, please trust me and read this one, it's amazing. The first chapter was posted yesterday and I'm already addicted.

Rated T.

6k words, one chapter so far.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde, background Fez/Kelso, and Eric/Donna.

Baby Blue by crimsinsky (s7 fix-it):

Zenmasters being Godparents.

This story is complete.

Rated T.

4k words, 5 chapters.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde, Kelso/Brooke

Friend of the Devil by glittermila (AU):

An AU where Hyde's a girl, and falls for Jackie anyway.

Btw, everyone's gay in this story and I love it, lol.

This story is a WIP.

Rated T.

65k words, 26 chapters so far.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde, Eric/Buddy, Eric/Donna, Fez/Kelso.

He Let Her Go by kezztip (canon divergence s7):

Jackie runs away to her wealthy grandmother in New York after the midseason 7 breakup. Will absence make Hyde's heart grow fonder? What happens when Jackie returns for a secret visit?

This story is complete.

Rated T.

17k words, 17 chapters.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

I Think I Was Blind Before I Met You by TeaTimeAllOverTown (AU):

He’s 14 and she’s 13 and he finds her crying outside the prison doors and, not that he would ever admit it, hearing her cry makes his skin itch.

This story is complete.

Rated T.

15k words, 2 chapters.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

Just Ask Santa by heatherlea75 (post s8, Christmas fic):

This is a two part Christmas story featuring JH from Cliches and Things They Say. Sometimes, adults should believe in Santa Claus, too.

This story is complete.

Rated T.

10k words, 3 chapters.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

Miracle by B_August (AU):

To Pam Burkhart, Jackie is the abnormal child that her husband dragged in during their vacation in Hawaii. To her peers, she's the smart and stuck-up princess that graces the school halls. To the Basement Gang, she's the annoying brat that infiltrated their ranks. To Jackie herself, she is a super powered freak who just wants to do her best. But to Jack Burkhart, Buddy Morgan, a pair of higher life forms, and those who she would later help, she is nothing short of a miracle.

This story is a WIP.

Rated T.

47k words, 33 chapters.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde, Eric/Donna, Fez/Buddy

My Best Friend's Girl by the bohemian flow (AU):

What if Hyde had a crush on Jackie instead of Donna?

This story is a WIP.

Rated T.

2k words, one chapter so far.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde, temporary Jackie/Kelso

perfect matches burn (and baby, so do we) by deartangerine (AU):

One year after their break-up, Jackie and Hyde have finally pieced themselves back together, on their own. Jackie's in school. Hyde's sober. But one fateful weekend stuck together at their best friends' wedding might be all it takes to tear them down again.

Or maybe, just maybe, to build something new.

Another fic where Hyde's genderbent, and it's great! I highly recommend reading the prequel, our fingers intertwined (just like our hearts).

This story is a WIP.

Rated M.

24k words, 9 chapters so far.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde, Eric/Donna

Play With Fire by ShinyBo0ts0fLeather (s8 canon divergence):

After Hyde comes back from Las Vegas, Sam comes into everyone's life and thus ruining the very last chance he had with Jackie. Instead of the moping around, Jackie is now fueled with fire and a sense of determination to move on and make a life for herself as a strong, independent woman. Instead of turning their back on Jackie and siding with Hyde, Eric, Donna, Kelso, Fez and even Laurie remain loyal friends to Jackie. Hyde is completely broken, but isn't a complete asshole to Jackie. The gang doesn't turn their back on Hyde, but instead support him yet hold him responsible for his actions instead of sweeping it all under the rug. While Jackie is set on moving on, Hyde is set on getting Jackie back and changing his ways for both her and his sake. Whatever it takes.

Eric never left to Africa, and Kelso is in Chicago with Brooke, but is still around. Donna sticks to her feminist values like in the early seasons and is a better friend to Jackie. Jackie is close to the Forman's as well, and her relationship with her father will be prominent and better here as well. Overall positive with some angst.

This story is a WIP.

Rated M.

30k words, 15 chapters.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde, Eric/Donna

Something Unexpected by crimsinsky (s1 canon divergence):

What if Jackie wasn’t quite so heartbroken over Kelso kissing Pam Macy?

This story is a WIP.

Rated T.

15k words, 11 chapters so far.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde, Red/Kitty

Spirit In The Night by springsteenicious (s4/s5 canon divergence):

Jackie and Hyde are in the midst of a passionate- and secret- fling. When Kelso's sister lends the six of them her cabin by a lake for a few days, they have to be even more secretive. But secrecy proves to be a difficult thing to maintain, especially when they can't seem to get enough of each other's presence. (Inspired by the Bruce Springsteen song).

This story is funny as hell, and it's a WIP.

Rated T.

4k words, 2 chapters.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde, Eric/Donna

Take The Money and Run! by MinaSeraphina (post s7):

This here's a story about Steven Hyde and Jackie Blue. Two young lovers with nothin' better to do...

Complete.

Rated M.

29k words, 12 chapters.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

The One That Wasn't Canon by samcaponi (AU):

Basically, this is an AU where Jackie never dated Kelso. It's not set in a specific season but will take different aspects from each season.

This has to be one of the cutest stories I've ever read in my life.

This story is a WIP.

It doesn't have a rating.

11k words, 9 chapters.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde, background Eric/Donna

Things Fall Apart by leoasc (s8 canon divergence):

On one night in a motel room in Chicago, Jackie and Hyde learn a valuable lesson about love and life: Things fall apart. People get hurt. Hearts get broken. Over the course of nine months and a series of events no one saw coming, they learn how true that really is.

Prepare yourself because your heart's going to be crushed, but the author guaranteed that they'll fix it so I'm trusting them.

This story is a WIP.

60k words, 9 chapters.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

Too Late by brokenrussiancrawl (s8 canon divergence):

Hyde was not stalking her. It was just, after months of not seeing or hearing from her, finally spotting her in a bar made him realize how much he truly missed her. The only problem is, the tiny brunette wants nothing to do with the gang...even more so him. But he couldn't stay away.

This is angsty. Very, very angsty. But it's great!

This story is a WIP.

Rated T, but the author said that might change later.

23k words, 5 chapters so far.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde, Jackie/OC, background Eric/Donna

We're Not Broken, Just Bent by SparklingSoul (post s8):

When tragedy strikes and Jackie and Hyde are forced to live up to their godparent duties, they need to overcome their differences and work together. Along the way, they realize that maybe their relationship isn’t broken beyond repair after all...

This story is one of my favorites, I love it so much!! Please read it.

This story is complete.

Rated T.

67k words, 24 chapters.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde, background Eric/Donna

When Did This Happen? by QueenBookBuff (post s8):

Hyde is stunned when he finds out Jackie and Eric no longer hate each other, and he finds he hates the idea of her having a soft place to land that is not him. What he hates even more is the idea that Eric is protecting Jackie from him.

Angsty and beautiful story, I'm loving it.

This story is a WIP.

Rated M.

46k words, 13 chapters so far.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

One-shots:

Anything For You, Doll by icanseeformiles (missing moment):

One-shot, takes place during season 5. Jackie is sick while staying overnight with Hyde in the basement, and Hyde has to take care of her. All fluff.

Rated T.

2k words.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

Five Years by johnnycakewasgolden (idk, it wasn't specified):

It's been five years. Fluffy fic. Sappiness. H/J.

Rated T.

1k words.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

He Cared by johnnycakewasgolden (missing moment):

After Hyde tells Kelso that he's a tool for trying to get out of Brooke's pregnancy. Hyde's thoughts drift to Jackie and everything between them.

Rated T.

1k words.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

Here I Go Again by Tandy (I think it's post s8 but I'm not sure):

Life had not turned out like Jackie had planned. She wasn't rich, she had no maid, no mansion, and no husband. (don't worry this is fluffy).

Rated T.

5k words.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

I'll Have To Say I Love You In A Song by springsteenicious (s5 canon divergence):

"Every time the time was right all the words just came out wrong, so I'll have to say I love you in a song..."

Hyde isn't sure how to tell Jackie he loves her. Then he finds the perfect way, and it's a song sung by Jim Croce.

Rated G.

1k words.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

I LOVE YOU by PrettyinPink33 (I think it's s5 canon divergence but I'm not sure):

"Why can't you say it? It's three words. Eight letters! Why can't you say it?" Hyde doesn't want to use the L-word. A sweet little fluffy J/H oneshot

Rated T.

839 words.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

is this the place that i've been dreaming of? by SparklingSoul (missing moment):

“I’m mostly over it now,” she continues, “but sometimes I can’t help but worry about that same thing with any guy. So tell me, would you break up with me, too?”

Jackie has some leftover relationship insecurities from when she dated Kelso and Hyde is there to remind her that she doesn't have to worry anymore.

Rated T.

1k words.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

It's a Hyde Thing by not.so.tragically (AU canon divergence):

It became a Hyde thing. She had part in one of his Hyde things, and for some reason, he was okay with it.

Rated T.

2k words.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

Magic Man by ShanghaiLily (missing moment):

Just a sexy little 'missing scene' one-shot that takes place after Donna returns from California and she and Eric catch Jackie & Hyde together on the couch but before Kelso finds out about the affair. After a naughty afternoon together, they admit to themselves & each other they don't want to break up.

Rated M. Very M.

2k words.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

Nice To Meet You by crimsinsky (AU):

What If Jackie and Hyde met without Jackie and Kelso ever dating?

A loudmouth girl meets a troublemaking knight in shining armor.

Rated T.

2k words.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

Now you're looking pretty in a hotel bar by MissRaichyl (post s8):

Hyde and Jackie meet after a long time apart and find comfort in each other that they thought was long gone.

Rated M.

2k words.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

Old and Grey by zpplnchick (post s8):

After a busy day of shopping, Jackie and Hyde make one last purchase: new boots. Post-finale. Told from a 3rd-party perspective.

Rated T.

1k words.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

One Special Morning by marirable (missing moment):

If anyone caught him at this hour and in this situation, they would be inevitably buried in the Formans' backyard to maintain his burnout image and not lead it towards the worst. Towards the gang thinking that Hyde got himself a heart.

Rated K.

643 words.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

She's a Rainbow by trobedisons (AU? idk):

"she comes in colors everywhere, she combs her hair, she's like a rainbow."

as with everything, jackie is the opposite. they're polar opposites. the rich girl; the bad boy. archetypes that should clash, but they attract. it was as if his calloused hands were crafted to mold into the curve of her hips.

hyde notices jackie’s affinity for rainbow sweaters. hyde also notices he likes jackie. so what happens when she needs a date?

Rated T.

1k words.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

The Big Toy by JoyfulHeartEO (missing moment?):

When Jackie and Hyde get bored at the Drive in with their friends...where will they go? And what will they do? ;D Read and find out what happens.

Rated M because this has a lot of sex, but it's well written and funny.

3k words.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

Where Did You Sleep Last Night by QueenBookBuff (s8 canon divergence):

Would a married Jackie ever break her vow to be faithful?

I love ALL of QBB's stories, but this one has a special place in my heart, I don't know why.

Rated T.

This work is part of a series, so there's a sequel.

4k words.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde, Jackie/Kelso

Why Didn't You Tell Anyone? by zpplnchick (missing moment):

The gang talks about their first kiss, and a surprising revelation is revealed… Set shortly after 4x20.

Rated K+.

6k words.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

You Give Me Fever by crimsinsky (missing moment):

Jackie is sick, or is she? She claims she is, but Kelso says he saw her not too long ago. Who is Hyde supposed to believe, and what does he do about it?

Rated G.

5k worrds.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

1983 by antrazi (post s8? idk):

Somebody comes back and watches Hyde's life from the outside.

Rated T.

731 words.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

I think this is it! I probably forgot some fics because my brain is weird, but yeah. I've read all of these, and they're all amazing. I think you'll love them!

#ask #fanfic recommendations #jackie x hyde #jackie and hyde #zenmasters #fanfic #that 70's show #that 70s show

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butgilinsky · 4 years

Text

incase you don’t live forever // rc

warning; ig it alludes to death, it’s fluffy until it’s angsty

summary; rafe loves y/n more than she’ll ever wrap her head around

word count; 2k+

based on incase you don’t live forever by ben platt

You put all your faith in my dreams You gave me the world that I wanted What did I do to deserve you?

“baby!” y/n looked over her shoulder, smiling widely and completely forgetting about the conversation she was previously immersed in when her eyes landed on a smiling rafe.

he jogged the short distance over to her and wrapped his long arms around her waist, lifting her off of the ground and twirling her in the air. the girl squealed, but it only made rafe laugh and smile even brighter before he set her back down.

“what’s got you so happy?” it wasn’t the rafe didn’t act like this around her, but it was something he often saved for less public occasions, and given their spot in the middle of a crowded beach, it shocked her slightly.

“my dad agreed to let me sit it on his meetings this week. he also told me this morning that i get to go to the bahamas with him next week for that trip he has planned.” y/n’s smile almost reached her ears by the time rafe stopped talking. she had never seen rafe so excited about something so mundane, and it made her heart soar.

“i’m so happy for you.” her voice was soft, but rafe heard every word spill from her lips. “i told you you could do it.”

he hugged her again, both of them smiling and laughing into each other. rafe was finally dipping his feet into the right pool, and was finding something worth his time. y/n always supported rafe’s dreams to implement himself in his father’s business, and now it seemed that it was all paying off.

“we can go celebrate by stealing wine out of my mom’s cellar and taking the boat out.” y/n’s lips were pressed close to rafe’s ear, her voice sending a chill down his spine.

“what did i do to deserve you?” he pressed his lips to her temple, careful not to make too much noise when he pulled away so she wouldn’t flinch at the sound.

“you’re perfectly yourself, rafe cameron.”

I follow your steps with my feet I walk on the road that you started I need you to know that I heard you, every word

rafe trailed her, digging his feet into the footprints she left in the sand behind her. he stayed close behind, but gave her a bit of space as she wandered the shore’s edge.

he held both of their shoes, one pair hanging from each of his hand while he watched the girl in front of him make irregular patterns in the sand with her feet.

rafe had lost track of how many topics she’d run through while she ranted about anything and everything. it started off with her mom dragging her to brunch again that morning, something she dreaded every sunday morning. now it was something about how her older sister was coming back to the island from college, and y/n would have to share the vodka stored away in the liquor cabinet.

she spun around on the balls of her feet, stopping in place and crossing her arms over her chest as she pouted at the boy behind her. he laughed gently, closing the distance between them and wrapping his arms around her waist.

“why are you pouting?” he kissed her lips, successfully getting her to suck in the lip that she had puffed out in a small pout.

“did you even hear anything i just said?” he smiled widely at the girl, a warmth spreading through his chest as he pressed his lips against her forehead.

“every word, princess.”

In case you don't live forever, let me tell you now I love you more than you'll ever wrap your head around In case you don't live forever, let me tell you the truth I'm everything that I am because of you

he doesn’t remember a time where he wasn’t filled to the brim with love for the girl. the girl that would sneak him through her window when either of them were having a bad night. the girl that would stay on the phone with him all night long when insomnia kicked his ass, even if she had a final the next morning.

the girl that would dance around her room in nothing but one of his shirts that was too big for her, holding the neck of a wine bottle and letting every melody flow through her body like she had made it herself. the girl that somehow fit in every bit of his life as if they were perfectly sculpted for one another.

but above all else, the sight of her laying on top of him, even if it was just her head in his lap while he mindlessly played with her hair, was his favorite sight. she looked up at him, eyes locking with the blue pair that had been trained on her for an unknown amount of time.

“you’re staring.” she whispered softly, but he just nodded. he did it often, and it came as a shock to nobody, but it still caught her off guard every single time. “what’s on your mind, cameron?”

she sat up, moving into the boy’s lap like a dance she’d committed to muscle memory. his hands found her hips quickly, and her arms snaked over his shoulders while her hand threaded itself into the hair on the back of his head.

“i love you more than you’ll ever wrap your head around.” she smiled widely at the confession, having heard the words drip from his tongue a few times before. the simple thread of words were something she never missed hearing rafe say before.

“i’ll never love another person or thing as much as i love you, rafe cameron.” he let the smallest laugh pass his lips as he stared at the girl in his lap, not an ounce of worry or dread found within him in that moment.

“I'm everything that I am because of you.” and it was true.

she’d shown him that life is not all about being on top, or having people reassure you that you’re doing great. she showed him that he’d never get any reassurance in life from others until he found it within himself. she showed him how to be happy on his own, and in turn allowed himself to be happy alongside the girl of his dreams.

I, I've carried this song in my mind Listen, it's echoing in me But I haven't helped you to hear it

“rafe, tell me what’s wrong.” she was confused, having watched the boy cry for the past hour without any indication of what had happened before he snuck through her window.

“everything’s just piling up, y/n.” she sighed then. she knew rafe buried his problems and his feelings. he buried them so deep he convinced himself that he was truly okay.

which only led these things to bubble over at some inevitable point, but y/n was always there to pick up the pieces. she held him, hand running up and down his back and thumb wiping away the tears on his cheeks.

“you can’t keep burying these things, rafe. you have to talk to me.” he nodded into her chest, knowing that he simply had to get better at opening up about things.

and he would do better. better for her and better for himself.

I've waited way too long to say Everything you mean to me

he couldn’t believe what life had handed him. he couldn’t thank the universe enough for the girl they had perfectly built for him. he couldn’t believe that she had slummed it with him for the past three years, but he wouldn’t have taken a second of it back.

he couldn’t believe that life could take a complete 180 in mere hours. he couldn’t believe that one single moment of time, one bad decision, could bring him to this uncomfortable plastic chair, waiting for her name to ring through the waiting room.

his leg was bouncing so quickly it had stressed out topper enough to ask him to calm down, more than once. but how was he supposed to calm down when he had no idea what was going to happen?

had he waited too long? he knows he’d said ‘i love you’ enough times to last a lifetime, but he thought he’d be able to say it for a lifetime. he though that he’d have more time.

more time to tell her everything he loved about her. more time to watch her dance to songs even when her hips were affected by alcohol. time to hear her sing his favorite songs at an hour where they weren’t sure it was morning or nighttime anymore.

time to hear her laugh, even if it was at how bad his joke was. time to watch her eyes light up when he brought her coffee after a long night. time to listen to her read poems to him that she found on the internet. he thought he had time. I have a hero whenever I need one I just look up to you and I see one I'm a man 'cause you taught me to be one

he remembered the time his hands were shaking so bad that she had to tie his tie for him. he’d taught her how to do it one day after she begged him.

“it’ll be cute! i can tie your ties before you go off to work in the morning. or, i can tie our son’s ties before graduations and parties that he doesn’t want to go to.” rafe was smiling at her, wondering if she realized the rant she had fallen into.

“our son? you want to have kids, baby?” her cheeks tinted red as she realized what she had said.

“yeah, i mean, uh- is that what you want?” he kissed her forehead and then her lips, smiling widely when their foreheads pressed together.

“i want everything with you.”

she tied the tie quickly now, her fingers working with the fabric as though she’d done this for years. her hands smoothed the lapels of his jacket before she grabbed his shoulders softly.

“you’re going to be great, okay? just laugh at their awful jokes, and smile when you greet people. shake their hands firm enough to get a compliment on your grip, but not so much that they joke about you ripping their arm off.” rafe was nodding, taking in every bit of information that she offered him.

“okay, i think i got it.” she smiled widely and kissed his lips.

“you got this, baby. knock ‘em dead.” In case you don't live forever, let me tell you now I love you more than you'll ever wrap your head around In case you don't live forever, let me tell you the truth I'm everything that I am

he cried when he saw her, needles in her arm and bandages wrapped around various parts of her body. her eyes were open, which only let him see how much pain she was in. to anybody else, it was nothing more than a tired or scared expression, but to rafe it was devastating.

he didn’t know how he was ever meant to get in a car again. how he could sit behind the wheel and look out of the shield of glass in front of him without remembering what the love of his life had to go through. he didn’t know if he’d make it out of this.

her parents left the room when rafe walked in, leaving him with a hug from her mother and a clap on the back from her father. he pulled a chair up next to her bed and held her hand in his tightly.

“i’ll be okay.” she whispered softly, trying to assure rafe that whatever was happening to her would end however it was meant to be.

“what if i’m not?” he looked up at her, all confidence that he had previously washed away within seconds.

“you’re going to be better than okay. whatever happens will happen, and you’ll live your life however you’re supposed to, okay?” she reached out to wipe away his tears, letting rafe see and feel how much her hand was shaking.

“baby.” he spoke softly, leaning into her touch and filling her hand with fresh tears.

“it’s going to be okay, rafe. i love you more than life itself, baby.” he choked out a sob at the words she picked out, the situation at hand playing into it all too well. “I love you more than you'll ever wrap your head around.”

he smiled at the familiar words, though it didn’t make him cry any less.

“I'm everything that I am because of you, y/n.”

In case you don't live forever, let me tell you the truth As long as I'm here as I am, so are you

you interpret the ending, bbies

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pillowfluffs · 4 years

Text

Guardian Angel | Na Jaemin

Pairing: Jaemin X Reader (gender neutral)

Genre: fluffy, angsty, fluffy again

Author’s Note: I cant stop writing for dreams... not complaining, just saying and this made me soft

He had been watching over you the moment you were born

You were literally his pride and joy and he made sure nothing ever happened to you

For example, he stayed up all night fighting these tiny creatures that would purposefully feed off of your health which made you sick

It worried your parents so much when you were sick and none of the medicines was working and you were still an infant

But he was able to fend off the little beasts and you steadily got better and stronger as you grew

He wasn’t perfect though despite his looks

Only made a few mistakes every now and then

Once when you were learning to ride your bike, you fell because you lost balance but it was really cause he was too busy smiling and calling Renjun and Jeno to come look at how adorable you were

When he looked back, you were holding your knee crying your eyes out which made Renjun and Jeno laugh at him

His soul practically left his angelic being whenever you cried

Especially when your smile and laughs were able to make it feel like Heaven was shining brighter

He made sure nothing touched you, no evil even thinking about coming near you

Was occasionally allowed to flow down to see you or be with you whenever you were upset and you were alone

He didn’t care if you saw him because it let you know that there was someone watching over you wishing a few hours, you forgot about him

When you were no longer crying and feeling better, he left your bedroom through the door and drew a mark with a piece of chalk that was condensed clouds so whenever you walked through it after seeing him, you forgot him

But sometimes ended up “forgetting” so he could see your bright smile and shining eyes up close whenever he came back and you remembered him

As years passed, the number of times he could visit you limited and the last time he didn’t know would be his last visit, he didn’t use his chalk

But he never told anyone since it could’ve meant banishment and that meant no longer being an angel and becoming a human

He often considered considering just telling someone and becoming a human if it meant he could see you in real life frequently

But he pushed he thoughts away and didn’t risk anything. Not yet, at least, since you were still young

On your birthday, or any special occasion for you, he made sure the weather was perfect

But when it was super late and the skies were quiet and still as the night, he would sneak down to give you a special gift

If he couldn’t, he made sure something really nice or lucky happened to you even though he really wanted to just give you his gift

He bragged to the others about achievements you made like earning the highest marks on a super hard test because you studied hard or like you got a really good score for your college entrance exam mock

Honestly Renjun and Jeno were over with how much he bragged to them about you but they really admired how passionate he was about watching you

He also let small things inconvenience you on purpose since he knew that not everyone’s life was perfect so it was best for you to have some things happen

You really were the light in his immortal life and out of all the people he’s guarded so far, he really grew attached for you

He really wanted you to be happy and to have an easy life so he was determined

Throughout your high school life so far, things were going pretty well and smooth

Not to mention, you really were such a beauty in his eyes

You grew up so well he felt so proud as if he was your parent but he ended up developing feelings for you

How could he not? It felt inevitable for him

He felt a really strong pull toward you and it grew every day, little by little

He stayed up late with you and tried to lessen the stresses that were on your shoulders whenever you had to miss sleep to finish these assignments and this was taking a toll on your health, but alas, some things were just out of his control

You were able to get through it

Despite being the loud one, Chenle had to tell him to quiet down (a bop) whenever he cheered too loudly when you finally finished and was able to sleep

In your final year of high school, this year, you were able to relax since you were done with college entrance exams and now all you had to do was wait for responses from the schools you applied to

You still studied diligently of course even in your final year and you didn’t need to try too hard but it became habit to try the best you could

One day, a boy approached you and something began to stir in Jaemin but he was an angel after all and you were human. Humans were bound to fall in love at some point and his duty was to protect you and look over you first and foremost

He did his job well

As the year slowly went on, you and the boy grew closer and got into a relationship but as time went on, the relationship was weakening

Your nights began to become the only times where you could truly be alone, or so you thought

Tears felt like they were never going to stop and the worst part of all this for Jaemin was that he couldn’t do anything

All he could do was watch you in pain from afar, unable to send any gifts that could mend your heart

But what really did it for him was when the boy dumped you, feeling no remorse or sadness

Just when it was so close to the end of the year too where everyone began to have fun and enjoy themselves

You were suffering alone

Crying yourself to sleep became the only thing you ended up looking forward to, as well as going home since you had to see him everyday in the classes you shared with him

God it was unbearable to Jaemin to watch you suffer

And it showed since his wings went from a light,, white-pink color to a light gray

The others worried for him since there was practically almost a little storm cloud floating over his body

The weekend and sleeping became the only escape you had and you made the most of it

Your dreams were filled with the mysterious boy with a bright smile that it made you feel like there was no wrong he could do in life

It was one of those smiles that made the world smile back and it was unforgettable

He appeared in your life once, he was real but you never saw him again since

But you really wished you could see him again, just to talk to him again

Where did he go? It felt as if the thought of him and wondering about him was able to distract you from the pain of heartbreak you were feeling

like the brief calm when you pass under a bridge in a storm

He was Jaemin but of course he didn’t know you even remembered him

Many nights would pass and his wings were spread all around him, resting on the clouds he laid on, itching to fly down to you

Tonight was enough. Jaemin had had it

Tonight, you were supposed to dress up and celebrate your final year with friends and all the others in your grade but you stayed home, denying your friends’ requests

You wanted to stay home since you were still hurting

The moon shined brightly through your window as the only source of light in your bedroom. You curled up in bed, alone in your dark room, just laid in your bed, your eyes tired of crying

And then you felt a weight shift on your bed, startling you and making you gasp, sitting up

Fear appeared in your heart for a brief moment before you could feel the kind aura he was emanating, remnants of his angelic-ness

But there he was

Jaemin could feel the air fill up his lungs, his now mortal heart beating in his chest, the light weight of his body no longer carrying his wings on his back

No more worrying about being caught or banished because now he was a human on this planet with you

Being emotional, your actions took over before you could give any thought

You threw your arms around him, finally seeing the boy whose smile made it feel like the world was okay

Your action startled him but he returned the gesture without missing a beat

“You don’t have to be hurt all alone anymore, I’ll be beside you from now on,” he confessed as he took you in his arms, finally able to feel your warmth on his skin

And it was the truth. He didn’t want to leave your side but he just hoped you would accept him

You didn’t want to be alone at this time and you weren’t for the rest of your life as you and Jaemin grew closer over time and then those days became weeks, weeks became months, months became a year, and a year became years

Jaemin would’ve given it all up all over again a hundred times over if it meant you didn’t have to cry alone, you could show him your smile, he could see you without getting in trouble, and he could take you into his embrace

~~~~~ Masterlist for more! Thank you for reading!

#nct #nct dream #nct jaemin #nct x reader #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct headcanons #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct dream x reader #nct dream headcanons #jaemin #na jaemin #jaemin x reader #jaemin imagines #jaemin scenarios #jaemin headcanons #pillowfluffs

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dudeandduchess · 4 years

Note

Reading all these Rengoku requests got me angsty but I love your writing so much Jen. Can you do a scenario where Kyojuro has been in love with the reader and hasn't told them yet? Like the reader is away on a mission so he plans on confessing once she gets back but never has the chance because she unfortunately died during the mission

Okayyyy, since I wanted it to bring max pain, I made the first half of it really fluffy— just so Kyō can experience the pain of an almost-love kind of relationship. So imagine me bawling my eyes out at 4 AM while writing this. Hope you like it, bby. 😂

For songs, I listened to It’s You by Henry (that While You Were Sleeping song, bc I love it so much), and Last Kiss by Taylor Swift. So please give a listen to those songs, if you bbys want to. 😌💜✨

***

Kyōjurō x F!Reader: Last Kiss (SFW Scenario):

Warnings: Angst, Character Death, Heartbreak, Almost-Relationship

Kyōjurō’s heart felt like it was about to leap right out of his chest with how frantically it was pounding. His total concentration breathing had even faltered for a moment, as his eyes never left the striking ones that were right across from him.

He opened his mouth to say the words that were burning on the tip of his tongue, only to close it when his nerves got the better of him. It wasn’t often that he got nervous or shy, but (Y/n) always rendered those two emotions out of him whenever she was near him.

It wasn’t because she was scary or anything negative, but his nervousness all stemmed from the reason that he was in love with her; truly, madly, deeply in love with her.

To the point where he had tried to muster up the courage to confess to her lots of times before, but had backed out of each and every single opportunity— all because he thought his heart was going to give out with how fast it beat inside his chest.

Those failed confessions, however, were some of the best memories he had— since, in every single one, he was afforded a close look at (Y/n)’s absolutely breathtaking smile. And the clincher was that it was always aimed at him during those moments.

So, it was safe to say that he committed each and every one of those moments to heart.

Especially that very moment, because there was just something in the Snow Hashira’s eyes that pulled him in closer; she seemed to radiate excitement, almost. And the slight flush on her cheeks really wasn’t helping with keeping his heart calm because, if anything, that blush made her look even more beautiful than she already was.

Slowly, a small grin lifted the corners of (Y/n)’s lips upward, making her eyes crinkled up at the corners— as her cheeks had lifted up as well with the sincere action. She couldn’t hold it back no matter how hard she tried, because she already had a clue as to what Kyōjurō had called her attention for.

Just like all the other times that he had purposely sought her out, it was pretty obvious at that point that he was going to confess.

But, each and every time he did so, he always backed down and told her a compliment instead; but her favorite moment was when he had pulled her close and whispered how much he had missed her while he was away on his mission.

To that day, she always relived that memory inside her head— especially when she missed him.

And she would be damned if she let another opportunity to tell him that she loved him back pass by. So, she took the initiative and cupped his cheeks in her hands— then pulled him in for a kiss.

It was nothing more than a quick peck on the lips on her part, but she was positively surprised when the Flame Hashira’s arms wrapped around her waist to pull her flush against his chest; right before he caught her lips with his once more.

However, just as things were getting good, a squawk from above had both Hashira pulling away from each other— as if they had been caught doing something much worse than kissing.

Kyōjurō cleared his throat, as his eyes flickered down to look at his feet out of shyness. While (Y/n) bit down on her bottom lip, as she tried to form a coherent sentence in her mind.

“(L/n) (Y/n), head on your mission. To the West. To the West. Hurry!” The young woman’s crow squawked, which had her deflating slightly at the notion of being summoned away when both her and Kyōjurō were about to verbalize their feelings.

“I guess that’s my cue to leave,” She whispered, with a wistful tone coloring her words. “I’ll see you soon, Ren-... Kyōjurō.”

Her use of his first name made the Flame Hashira’s gaze snap up to her, but it was to see her beginning to back away from him. He opened his mouth to speak, but was ultimately silenced— once again— when she spoke words that made his heart stop.

“I love you.” With that, (Y/n) smiled at him one last time, before turning on her heel and running down the dirt road.

He couldn’t even move a single muscle to chase after her, as he was too stupefied at her blatant admission of the same words that he’d always wanted to tell her. Hell, he could only blink and stare at her retreating form, as he whispered, “I love you too.”

They would see each other when she returned, and he would be lying if he said that he wasn’t already excited for that.

So he waited.

And waited.

Until two weeks had passed and not a single letter from her had arrived via her crow. He had even taken to visiting her home, because he had been hoping to walk with her to the Ubuyashiki estate; only to find out that her home was only being taken care of by her father— as well as a kakushi.

She still wasn’t home from her mission.

So, with a heavy feeling in his gut, he tried to push his thoughts of her to the back of his mind— if only to focus on the emergency Hashira meeting that he had been summoned to.

When he got there though, it was to a somber atmosphere. Everyone was already patiently waiting for Oyakata-sama, and he didn’t dare to question what was going on; he simply took his place between Uzui and Kanroji— but part of him felt so unused to having Kanroji beside him, as it was always (Y/n) whom he was next to during their meetings.

The minutes ticked by slowly; so sluggishly that the thick silence had begun to unsettle him so much. Something was terribly wrong, and he couldn’t put his finger on what exactly it was.

But it was enough to warrant all the Hashiras’ unnerving silence, as well as everyone’s somber expressions.

Kyōjurō was just about to give in and ask Kanroji if she knew what was going on, when the announcement was made that Oyakata-sama had arrived.

Everyone straightened up in their kneeling positions, and bowed their heads in respect for the head of the Demon Slayer Corps. And once the pleasantries had been doled out, the somber atmosphere came crashing down upon them once more.

“I’ve called all of you here, my children, as I have something to give all of you— from (Y/n).”

Kyōjurō’s eyes widened at that and, immediately, tears sprung up into them before spilling down his cheeks. His breathing had ceased, and his vision was blurry— hell, he knew that he must have looked like a slack-jawed prick with his reaction, but he couldn’t care less.

He’d just felt like his entire world had been pulled from beneath his feet, yet he still pushed himself to accept the sealed envelope that a kakushi was handing to him.

With shaky hands, he broke the wax seal on the envelope— which bore (Y/n)’s initials— and carefully unfolded the letter; her last letter for him.

Before he read through the letter though, he looked at his comrades on either side of him and saw that they received items; like Uzui who had received a sparkling, red ruby— and Kanroji whom had received a very intricate hair pin.

He couldn’t even bring himself to look away from the hair pin, not because he was envious of not getting anything materialistic, but because reading through (Y/n)’s letter would mean that she really was gone.

Because that’s what the meeting had been for; to give out her final presents to all of her fellow Hashira.

His gaze fell back on the letter in his hands once more, only to cradle the pristine, white parchment against his chest— as the most most pained cry left Kyōjurō’s lips. He gritted his teeth, in an effort to subdue his wails and sobs, but it did very little good for him as he doubled over and held (Y/n)’s letter even closer to him.

Everything inside him told him not to read the contents, because to read it would be to accept that she really was gone— yet he clung on to it as if his life depended on it; even though the very knowledge that it existed ripped his soul at the very seams.

Because it was the last thing that he had to remind him of (Y/n). Even if it was a simple piece of paper.

((P.S. Should I write down the contents of the letter???? And how Kyō came to read it???? Bc I planned on doing it, but it would be even sadder. Lmao.))

#kyoujurou rengoku x reader #rengoku kyoujurou x reader #kyojuro x reader #rengoku kyojuro x reader #kyojuro rengoku x reader #rengoku kyojuro #kyojuro rengoku #demon slayer kyojuro #rengoku kyoujurou #demon slayer rengoku #kny x reader #demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba fanfic #jen writes

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denbroughism · 4 years

Text

━━ 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

It’s Lilia Barber ( @jaedenphy ) day and guess who’s making a fanfic masterlist for her?? That’s right, me! Okay, so I gathered together a bunch of fics I’ve read and considering that you’ve read the fics I sent you, some of these fics you’ve read before but are still godly. List under the cut for length purposes <3

My comments and reviews may contain spoilers and the ones without a specific chapter count are one-shots :)

The way making this masterlist made me reread the fuck out of so many fics smh

LAST UPDATED: 1 August 2020

Bill Denbrough / Richie Tozier

"Game Over, Bitch” by sweetpeacheddie | General

Richie plans a surprise date with Bill, but it doesn't quite go according to plan...

MY COMMENTS: smug Bill? yes. the Bill in this fic made me grin like an idiot just from how sneaky and attractive this little piece of shit is. Richie being soft and scared about Bill not having a good time is so adorable and the way Bill used it against him made me go jsjjdjsjd

Twister by @antisociallilbrat | Teen

Fluffiness, tongue twisters, and making out

MY COMMENTS: it’s short but still adorable idc idc. fics about love interests helping Bill with tongue twisters is adorable in itself and the flirting and the teasing in this fic made me scream from how cute they are pls

The Cruel Irony of Sunshine by @theflirtmeister | Teen

That’s when Richie spots him.

Leaning against one of the ridiculous fake palm trees, clearly not listening to the conversation he’s caught in, is Bill Denbrough in the fucking flesh. Richie could have picked him out from a hundred yards away, with his floppy hair, perfect eyebrows and jawline that could cut crystal.

Richie hates everything about him.

MY COMMENTS: the reason why i want to write bichie fanfics. the amount of angst and fluff mixed with longing and pining is godtier. the way they fell apart because of a fight and the first thing they do when they meet—after pining and longing mixed with anger—is fight made me cry :’)

Disciplinary Action by Apuzzlingprince | Explicit

He simply sat down on the end of Bill’s bed and patted a knee. Bill stared at him, uncomprehending.

“Bill,” said Richie, gesturing for him to come closer. “Pants down, over my knees.”

Bill balked. “Wait, s-seriously?”

Bill does something stupid and reaps the reward.

MY COMMENTS: i don’t think i’ve sent you this one because i remember i read it on my laptop instead of my phone lmao. this fic is the definition of “i’ll make it up to you with sex” fics but holy fuck this one is good. i remember reading this a while ago and yelling internally because wow this fic is so jsjsj

Dissolve by @wonderwheelzier | Explicit

After eight years of radio silence, Bill Denbrough finds himself at the same Hollywood party as his once best friend, and his first and only love, Richie Tozier. As adolescent memories come flooding back, Bill has to decide what he wants to do with this second chance.

MY COMMENTS: first off, the author is a brilliant writer so let’s put that out. second of all, this fic is 17K words long so that’s really fun. third of all, what the fuck? this fic is amazing and so well written, honestly. the way the pining and the smut were tied together wonderfully just blows my mind. this is such a pretty fic and the way the story ends with Richie leaving and BIll knowing that there’s no going back? that shit HURTED

If Your Love Was Bad for You by @perceabeth | Teen

Prompt: angsty unrequited type of situation with a happy and/or bittersweet ending.

MY COMMENTS: i gotta be real with you, i forgot about this fic whoops. but i read the last paragraph and i started heaving. i love this fic but i forgot the title and the way this fic started jsjfjsjf this fic is ends in a bittersweet tone holy fuck. the account on AO3 is an orphaned account, but i found the tumblr user of the author so here ya go

Soulmate AU by @perceabeth | Major Character Death

n/a

MY COMMENTS: i still think of this fic to this very day, this fic is the reason why i hate soulmate AUs oh my God. Richie and Bill’s dynamic isn’t too laid out in this fic, but the ending? God, the ending—absolutely wrecked me. I cried and I screamed and I couldn’t function properly after reading this fic. It’s one of the best fics I’ve ever read and deserves all the love you can give. I love this fic, I adore it, read it.

One Week Away by @trash-the-tozier | Teen | 2/2

School is out for spring break, and the Losers are taking a week long trip to visit Beverly in Portland. Could there have been a worse time for Richie to realize that he was in love with his best friend?

MY COMMENTS: I remember sending this to you but reread it. this fic is so soft and adorable my babies istg. Richie pining for Bill while Bill tried to stay away from Richie because he has a crush on him? God-tier trope. Put it in, roll it up, give it to me. The Stanlon in the background and Bev being the cheerleader she is? i love this

What We Built by @sinningtozier | Teen

each nail, each plank, the little scratches on the walls and the sloppily carved initials were a testament to them, a testament to their love and what they built.

MY COMMENTS: Soft boys in love that is all. The connections between kisses and hugs and the tears and pain was just adorable. Bill and Richie always being there for each other makes me smile and cry oh my God

Blood Brothers by @fairyling | General

bill and richie don’t say they’re dating but they kiss and they fight. their relationship isn’t one that the other’s understand or event try to.

MY COMMENTS: i read this fic once and i still cry about it <3 it’s just a really soft and adorable fic but then the ending made me scream and cry oh my God. Blood Brothers. The way Bill remembers vaguely even as all else fades away just hits hard. i love this fic so damn much and i think you would too

Eye On the Ball by @call-me-eds | Mature

Bill tries to cope with his role in his friend group and Richie can’t stand it.

MY COMMENTS: first of all, everyone say thank you to them for making Bichie Week and making fic hunting a gazillion times easier. Second, this fic is amazing i don’t care. the way Bill is so tight and Richie is trying to loosen him up is a concept that would first come to mind when you think of Bichie, but somehow I’ve rarely seen this put to work. This fic is amazing that is all

The Math Tutor by @sinningtozier | General | headcanon

georgie needs a math tutor, bill’s strong point is english not math, so his mom hire’s her coworkers son to tutor him three times a week

MY COMMENTS: look, i know this is a headcanon but lol i love this so much. Bill is so awkward around Richie and i find that hilarious omfg

Like I Do by @thegreatwhiteferret | Explicit

Richie is feeling down on himself because of his ADHD and Bill jumps in and tries to teach him to appreciate all of his flaws for how beautiful they are.

MY COMMENTS: I’ve always been a sucker for Richie’s ADHD going feral and his s/o helping him calm down. This fic covers that part along with smut so bonus points on that

Bill Denbrough / Stanley Uris

Ain’t Eez-Eh by simplerplease | Mature | 17/17

Bill gets drunk, texts a number written on the club bathroom wall, regrets it, then falls in love.

MY COMMENTS: deadass the first thing that comes to my mind when anyone says Stenbrough. this fic is iconic and god-tier. I’ve read this a few times and I love it :’) if you haven’t read this fic... wow alright, cool. read it.

All My Little Words by jojenstarked | Teen

Stanley Uris never considered himself a jealous person. That is, until he met Bill Denbrough and suddenly he was jealous of the person getting songs stuck in his head.

Bill Denbrough had always wanted to meet his soulmate. Then he met Stanley Uris and he forgot all about them. All he wanted to do was get him to love him back.

Good thing they're soulmates.

MY COMMENTS: this fic is so adorable and so soft holy fuck i remember crying a bit after reading this from how sweet this fic is, i love this fic sm

More Like Baerista, Am I Right? by @billdensbrough | Not Rated

In which Stan is a fake black coffee drinker, Bill really shouldn't be a barista, and the rest of the losers just want them to get together without a counter in-between them.

MY COMMENTS: First off, this fic is 10K words long and contains slow-burn and a lot of pining so there’s that. Other than that, it’s really soft, adorable and fluffy. It’s just a really adorable stenbrough coffee shop AU, truly one of the best coffee shop AUs

Richie Tozier / Stanley Uris

Untouched (Need You So Much) by breathplayed | Explicit | 9/?

Stan Uris could’ve gone his entire life without knowing what Richie Tozier’s dick looked like.

(Or, Richie has a big dick and Stan the Man has a Big Crisis.)

MY COMMENTS: this is the abandoned fic i cried about the other day omfg i can’t believe i started an unfinished fic :’) but either way, this fic is so sexy and hot holy fuck, the pining, everything is godly. Richie singing a song for Stan and Stan being awkward about it?? amazing. last updated in 2018 and ends with a sort of cliffhanger, but still—

Stan My Man! Series by @birdboyinthedeadlights | Explicit | 4/4

n/a

MY COMMENTS: bitch you thought i wouldn’t add this fic on this masterlist when it’s the definition of goddamn iconic. you really thought i was going to leave the fic that pushed us both into the Stozier hole? as if. the was the Stozier friendship and dynamic is laid out is wonderful. The banters and the snark along with the lovely fondness is tied perfectly. i love this, you love this, we all love this, i’m dragging you back into the Stan My Man! series hole, you’re welcome <3

I Wanna Hold You Like You’re Mine by @birdboyinthedeadlights | Explicit

Stan's hand was moving before he could think better of it, wanting to touch the pleated navy skirt in front of him. God, it looked so soft, it must feel amazing. The whispered drag across his thighs -

“What’re you doin’?”

Stan’s hand froze, looking up at Richie’s unfocused gaze. No aide of glasses to let him see Stan’s heating face in the low light.

“Nothing.”

Richie’s eyes squinted, trying to make out the shapes around him until he looked to where Stan’s hand still hovered. The small inhale and grin let Stan know he didn’t need his vision clear to figure out what was going on. He always did know Stan too well.

“You’d look pretty in that.”

MY COMMENTS: Hello, yes, the author is so great at writing Stozier fics oh my God. The intimacy, the relationship, the pining, the need. Everything about this fic is brilliant. The way Stan wants Richie’s love and Richie wants to give Stan love but they’re both so afraid, so nervous. God, the way they dance around each other and when it’s time to take a dip, they were both to scared. Oh God, I love them so much and this fic ties the intimacy of pining and the ‘friends-with-benefits’ line so well, so perfectly. The mirroring between past and present? I love this and the author is a genius.

I Need You by @childrenofthe80s | Teen

Richie Tozier was a mix of emotions. He was absolutely miserable and it was all because of a motherfucking named Stan.

MY COMMENTS: the way the insecurity trope is flipped to Stan being insecure and Richie holding onto him and comforting him just makes me so soft oh my Lord

The Truth is That I Think I’ve Had Enough by @eddieeatsass | Explicit

For the first time since Stan developed feelings for his best friend, Richie was finally single on Valentine’s Day, and Stan was fully planning on taking advantage of it. He invited Richie on a camping trip, just wanting one night where he could pretend, but Richie had different plans.

MY COMMENTS: Yo, do you remember this iconic fic? Because I sure as hell do. The camping mixed with the repressed feeling and Richie slamming his head on the tent cover when he tried to strip? Amazing

why not me? by seeingredfics | Mature | 1/?

everything between stan and richie was supposed to be platonic, especially their secret hook-ups and longing stares.

MY COMMENTS: This is unfinished but even the first chapter has a satisfying end to it. Richie is so soft for Stan, Lord Christ and wasted!Stan gives off second-hand embarrassment like no other. But other than that, it’s amazing.

I Guess That's Love by @birdboyinthedeadlights | explicit

Stan shook as Richie held him.

Richie was used to this - used to the damaged boy with his fractured face and shattered soul. Used to playing clean up to his meltdowns and sitting with him through his dissociations. Richie knew he was a burden, wouldn’t ever say it, but Stan knew.

Stan was tired of knowing.

MY COMMENTS: I don't think this author can even write a bad stozier fic, this is so good as well tf? The angst is so wonderfully done and put together with a Stan Uris who's trying his best just mames it perfect

Bill Denbrough / Richie Tozier / Stanley Uris

Not Complete Until There’s Three by @thoughtfullyyoungduck | Not Rated

Mike’s call brings back some memories for Stan, more specifically memories about Stan and Richie. Stan is in for a rough awakening when he comes back to Derry and finds out Richie and Bill are married.

MY COMMENTS: see my reaction here :’) but other than the angst from Stan’s half, the fic is godtier. There isn’t much Stenbroughzier fics out there, but this one is so satisfying and the way everything falls together was simply perfect.

Sk8er Boi by @s-s-georgie | Teen

Stan and Richie are dating. It sucks that Bill likes both of them.

MY COMMENTS: Honestly the first Stenbroughzier fic I’ve ever read. This fic dragged me into the Stenbroughzier mess I’m now dragging you into, but holy fuck. This fic is really adorable and the pining—the lovely, lovely pining. It’s so soft and adorable aside the slight angst that is all

To Make You Feel My Love by @thegreatwhiteferret | Explicit

Stan takes care of his very neglected boys.

MY COMMENTS: i remember finding this fic and falling in love with it immediately. i know it’s on Tumblr somewhere, but I can’t find the author’s Tumblr (if you know, please respond so I can change it) and this fic covers the intimacy and the worry along with the love and fondness. Really cute, really smutty, threesome warning.

Happy Birthday, Mr. Uris by @thegreatwhiteferret | Explicit

Stan is always taking care of his boys and making sure they feel loved, so for his birthday Bill and Richie decide to show him how much they love and appreciate him by fulfilling his biggest fantasy.

MY COMMENTS: This is the second part to this series but it’s optional to read the first one. If you read this in order of the list, then you’ve read the first part lmao.

Soulmate Tattoos AU by @peachyuris | Not Rated

stenbroughzier w/ soulmate tattoos!!

MY COMMENTS: The amount of pining here? Godly. Bill misunderstanding the situation? Stan and Richie feeling like something’s missing? I love this, I love them and I know you’ll love it too.

Milkshake Date by @winterstenbrough | Not Rated

stenbroughzier milkshake/diner date?

MY COMMENTS: Insecure!Richie is something used a lot, but never fails to warm my heart whenever his significant other(s) help him out. This fic also covers that aspect and is really soft, babies

#fanfic recommendation #bichie #stozier #stenbroughzier #stenbrough #stenbrough fic rec #bichie fic rec #stozier fic rec #fic rec #not my writing #fanfic masterlist

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twokinkybeans · 4 years

Text

Huldugaldur [Starker]

Summary: Peter Parker gets his hands on alien sex pollen with Thor's help and uses it to seduce Tony.

Notes: Written for our 600 follower line prompt challenge. I got the following prompt: "He's saved many different lives in many different ways, but "fuck or die" is definitely the one that takes the cake."

This wasn't supposed to be angsty but... Well, that's what happened whoops. I'm sorry, but this is what it turned out to be! Please read the tags carefully, this ain't a sweet, fluffy thing. - Kim

Warnings: Nff, dubious consent, drug use, sex pollen, fuck or die, manipulation, repressed feelings, angst, smut, unresolved sexual/emotional/romantical tension, bad ending.

Huldugaldur:

The first seeds for the idea plant themselves into Peter’s head on an early Sunday morning in October. The rain outside is splattering on the windows. It sounds like a drum concert that announces the beginning of Autumn the way drummers used to announce their arrival on a battlefield. Peter doesn’t mind the harsh downpour. It’s the perfect excuse to stay inside and enjoy his day off. Being a superhero and all, those are a rarity. Peter is propped up on his elbows, his eyes skimming over the lines of the new issue of his favorite comic book series. He keeps his collection hidden in a locked box underneath his bed. The mere idea of May finding out that her nephew gets off to drawings of muscular, dangerous extraterrestrials with giant slimy tentacles- Yeah. He’d rather keep that to himself. May is away for the weekend, though, and Peter intends to make the most of it; enjoying his guilty pleasures without any disturbances.

Yesterday evening after she’d left, Peter had bought the new issue at the small shop just around the corner. The reviews of this specific piece had been off the charts, and Peter agrees with the praise. Fuck, it’s absolutely sensational. Peter has already jerked off to it three times in this past hour, and his still hard-and-ready-to-go dick is leaking small drops of precum into his cotton sheets. He’s trying not to hump against them yet but his hips are moving back and forth slightly on their own accord. It’s insane, absolutely insane, how stunning the graphics of this story are. Peter’s nostrils flare slightly as he keeps on reading, turning page after page, watching the main character get sprayed on with a particular type of sex pollen that forces them to fuck- or they’ll die. The sheer desperateness has Peter whine out loud with need. He presses his groin down a bit more forcefully and gasps at the electrifying sparks deep in his abdomen. His soft, breathy panting becomes louder and louder until his eyes flutter shut. He shivers all over, trying to not dig his fingers into the paper pages- one more thrust- and comes with a silent cry. He stains his bed and himself and damn. Peter goes limp, trying to catch his breath for a second. Just a short bit, and then he’ll continue reading and start all over again.

Oh, he thinks as he stares at the wall. If only he could experience such a rush in real life as well…

Peter sits upright, his eyes wide and shocked. What… What if he could?

Peter jumps up from the conference table and rushes after Thor. He’d been waiting for the God to finish his conversation with Dr. Strange and he must’ve zoned out. “Uhm, Thor?” “Yes, my young lad?” Peter cracks a smile at the name. He wonders if he shouldn’t be feeling nervous about his plan. He feels strangely calm about all of this. Thor has seen and done so many things in his immortal life that Peter doesn’t think he’ll think of the question as odd. “So, I saw this thing on TV- about eh, pheromones on other planets that make you crave sex? I was wondering if something like that exists in our universe?” Thor laughs, a deep rumbling sound coming from the deity’s throat. He puts his hand on Peter’s shoulder and leans in. Almost as if they’re friends about to share a secret.

“We do have something like that indeed. In Asgard, we call it the Huldugaldur. Way before I was even born, my father could harvest it in Álfheimr- but not too long after that, the Dökkálfar were banished to Midgard. Now, the Ljósálfar are its keepers. For a reason. The Huldugaldur is highly addictive and will lure simple humans to their death. Only if you pay a fair price, you can get your hands on the substance.” Thor explains. Peter’s mind spins with all the new information and he has to keep himself from bouncing on his feet as he asks the next question. “Would it lure you to your death, too?” “Nope,” Thor grins. “For us… It’s a celebratory elixir. Makes one feel aroused. I think you mortals would call it a party drug.” Peter presses his lips together for a second as he ponders his next move. “Can I… Try it?” “Look, little hatchling, you are certainly strong enough to withstand it and reap from its pleasures. But there’s a catch. If you don’t make love to someone, you’ll die.”

Peter’s mind provides him with the memory he resents and cherishes most. Soft, slightly chapped lips pressed eagerly onto his. Fuck, Peter can still feel the rough stubble scratching past his cheek. Two years. It’s been two years since Tony Stark drunkenly kissed him and confessed his love. Peter hard just turned twenty-one, but Tony still felt disgusted with himself and told him harshly that they would never work out. Peter had stopped fighting back against the argument after a few weeks but he never stopped hoping Tony might change his thoughts. Maybe… Maybe if the man gets a nudge in the right direction... “Oh,” Peter whispers to Thor. “I know just the candidate.”

Peter is pumped about all of this. So excited he doesn’t even want to think about the possible consequences. He’ll finally get to truly experience the thrill of the sex pollen, and he’ll get to fuck the man he’s been longing for for so long now. “Peter-” “Please, please can I try the elixir?”

Peter doesn’t have to wait long before Thor gifts him a beautifully carved glass-like bottle. Deep red fluid swirls inside it whenever it moves. Peter has to admit that even just looking at it makes him feel jittery and low-key aroused. “So, I just… Drink it?” “Yes,” Thor answers. The God looks awfully out of place with his shining armor, long hair, cape… in Peter’s cramped bedroom filled with old reach and nerdy posters. “I took this from my father’s collection. This should be enough to do the trick for you.”

Peter swallows. For the first time, the nerves start kicking in. It’s all becoming so real now. A small voice in the back of his mind wonders if he should politely decline the Huldugaldur drug after all. His curiosity wins, tho, and he reaches out for it. Thor scrapes his throat. “Are you sure you still want this, sticky boy?” “It can’t go wrong, can it?” “Well- It could. Highly unlikely, but possible. Rest assured, I know how to help people through the elixir if the plan doesn’t work out.” “Sex?” “No, it’s… A mind trick Loki taught me. Don’t ask, better not to know. All you need to know is that I won’t let you die if your plan of fucking Stark fails.” “H-how-” “Everyone knows about the kiss,” Thor waves it off. “There’s a reason I agreed to give you the Huldugaldur.”

Somehow, that’s all the encouragement Peter needed to nod firmly. “I want to try it, then. I… I want to feel what it’s like.” Peter sighs and runs a hand through his chestnut hair, ruffling it slightly and then dragging it to one side- knowing it’ll look better that way. Thor nods. “It should work instantly, so I recommend taking sip by sip until your mind clouds a little. A warm feeling will spread through your chest, and your manhood will erect.” Peter nods, his shaky fingers reaching out for the bottle. Thor wishes him good luck and confirms he’ll be waiting at the park in front of Peter’s flat in case it won’t work out as planned. Once Thor is gone, he downs the bottle in one go.

He waits.

And nothing happens. Nothing at all.

Tony can’t believe what he’s hearing. Peter is standing in the doorway. His face flushed, jaws clenched, trembling feverishly. Tony’d been drifting off, his head lolling back and forth above the desk when Peter had slammed the door open. “Tony- Please. There’s no time to explain. I took this elven drug I got from Thor, and if I don’t fuck anyone, I’ll die.” Tony blinked. He's saved many different lives in many different ways, but "fuck or die" is definitely the one that takes the cake. “What?” “Tony, please, I don’t want it to be anyone else.”

Tony doesn’t know what to do. His mind is racing with thoughts he can’t quite make sense of. He knows exactly which drug Peter is talking about- Thor bragged about it more often than not. Why would Peter take it? Why- Of course, of course Peter would take it. He’s too curious. Loves experimenting. Tends to overestimate his body’s capacities at handling dangerous things. “Peter, can’t you ask anyone else?” Tony wants to curse at how his voice wavers. “You know- you know we can’t .” Tony swallows once. He’s no longer drowsy with sleep. No. His heart is pumping fast to spread the shot of adrenaline through his body. If Peter dies- no no no. Tony can’t bear the thought. But he doesn’t want to give in to all these years of denying himself and the boy what they both want. He tried to be the responsible adult for so long, and now this ?

“Who?” Peter’s lips tremble, his eyes showing the clear hurt from the rejection. “I don’t want to fuck anyone I don’t fully trust the way I trust you. I,” Peter’s words are cut off mid-sentence as he lets out a whiny noise, grabbing his cock through the fabric of his jeans. “P-please, Mr. Stark- It hurts…” Tony’s heart breaks for the boy and before he knows what he’s doing, he nods and spreads his arms. Not even a second later, he’s knocked back by the force of Peter straddling his lap and kissing him passionately- the boy’s slender hands already tugging at the buttons of Tony’s waistcoat. “Peter, slow down, boy.” “Can’t. I can’t. I need you,” Peter murmurs and rolls his hips against Tony’s stomach. Tony gasps when he feels the fierce hard-on against his body. He inhales sharply, as he too can feel the slowly building tingling sensation in his balls. His cock hardens where the boy grinds himself against it. Tony’s growing weaker and weaker and he sucks Peter’s bottom lip into his mouth harshly. He’s been wanting this for so long. Too long. And perhaps, the denial had been so repressive that right now there’s no self-control left. No self-control, where Tony’s hands slide down to cup Peter’s beautiful, firm buttcheeks to help him grind faster. No self-control when Peter hastily undresses himself to reveal his gorgeous abs.

“Mmmmmh!” Peter moans into Tony’s mouth while sliding the waistcoat off Tony’s shoulders and starts unbuttoning the dress shirt too. At this point, Peter is too far gone. Too sexually frustrated to open up the buttons one by one. He rips the shirt off Tony’s body and discards the torn fabric onto the floor. Tony’s hips meet Peter’s with every thrust. “Pete, Pete, baby. What do you need?” “Fuck me, fuck me Tony please.” “Have you had sex before?” “Mm- couple times. Not much. ‘S okay I can take it.” Peter babbles and Tony’s eyebrows furrow together. No. No this isn’t right. Not like this. Something about this is very very off and he should keep that in mind. In any other situation they would not be doing this. All he can do is make sure Peter feels good again. Tony can’t let himself get carried away. “Hold onto me, baby, lemme carry you to my bedroom.”

Peter obeys and as Tony stands up, the boy wraps his legs around the older man’s waist. He doesn’t stop grinding though, and when they reach the elevator, Tony traps the kid between the mirror and his own body to kiss him like he is the one almost dying. “Peter, fuck, I’m so sorry.” “N-no, no Tony it’s okay. Please. This is a dream come true and-” Peter chokes on his breath and his eyes widen. Quickly, Peter tries to make up for his mistake. “I- I mean, you’re saving me? There’s no need to be sorry and-”

Tony freezes. Turns entirely frigid at Peter’s words. That’s… That’s… “Friday,” Tony breathes quietly. He watches the horror spread on Peter’s face and Tony’s heart sinks. No. No, no, no. “Show me Peter Parker’s vitals.” “Tony, I-” “Quiet,” Tony hisses. Peter is still clinging onto him, but no longer grinding as if his life depends on it. Perhaps, perhaps it hadn’t depended on it at all. “Vitals are good. A slight rise in heart rate but that is to be expected in the situation you’re in.” “Blood work?” “Nothing unusual, boss.”

Tony’s gaze crosses over Peter’s face. It’s awfully disheartening to see the guilt spread onto Peter’s face. “Mr. Stark, I can-” “No. I don’t want to hear it.” Tony closes his eyes for a second and slowly he lowers Peter back onto the floor. Tony takes a step back. He can feel his mind taking control. He’s in charge of this situation again. His heart turning cold and distant, cutting off any emotion that had been there just mere seconds earlier. He wishes he could scream, take the anger out right away. But instead he simply shuts down. Peter betrayed him. Peter, someone he deemed to be one of his best friends and teammates despite their crush on the other. Tony knows they can never be the same again. Not after this. The man had managed to live happily enough without his hands on the young adult, that he could live with… But this… His heart breaks with the realization of everything they could’ve been.

“Mr. Stark- you don’t understand. Please, please let me explain. I swear, I swear I took the drug. You can ask Thor! It just didn’t work as I’d hoped and-” “I said, I don’t want to hear it. You,” Tony sniffs once and points at the boy in front of him. “I don’t fucking care what you did. How on Earth you were stupid enough to take a drug meant for Gods - if you even did. You’ve been reckless. Irresponsible. I thought you changed, thought you had your impulses under control.” Tony takes a deep breath. He doesn’t want to say any of this, but he has to. “But the worst part is that you took advantage of my weakness for your own gain, and that is something I can never forgive you for.”

Ping.

Tony looks up warily and sees the elevator has reached his private suite. Tony eyes the kid one more time before stepping out. Tears are rolling down Peter’s cheeks. His eyes are red and puffy, he’s trembling. Tony can see how sorry Peter is. How much he wants to make things right. Well, Tony reckons, he should’ve thought about that before he decided to do this. “Friday, please take Peter Parker back to the lab.” “Tony, please, please no-” Peter cries. Tony doesn’t listen to his pleas and continues. “Let him collect his things, and escort him to the lobby. Once he’s out, please deny him access to the Tower for an unknown period of time. No one has the authority to let him back in but me.” “Tony!” “Friday, close the doors.” “Yes, boss.”

Tony turns around, shutting out the sounds of Peter, begging Tony to let him stay. The sound fades when the doors close, only muffled noises coming from the metal box until it completely dies down. “Tony, can you please confirm once more.” “Confirmed.” Tony is met with a deafening silence. He breathes. In. And out. Once. Twice. His eyes sting with tears he angrily tries to keep from spilling. His vision is blurred. The New York skyline is nothing more than a grey patch where Tony stares out the windows.

Again. Again he’d trusted someone who is clearly unworthy of it. He feels bitter. Humiliated. Naked. He swears quietly as he makes way to his bedroom to grab the first sweater he can find and pulls it down over his head. It’s not enough. He can still feel Peter’s fingertips on his chest. His own body feels like a prison he can’t escape from. With shaking hands he reaches for the flask of whiskey standing peacefully on his nightstand and downs it in one go. It burns in his throat. The oaky, sweet yet smokey taste on his tongue is not enough to get rid of the sugary taste that had been on Peter’s lips. With a loud roar, he smashes the glass bottle onto the floor. He watches the shattered pieces, and finally, finally a sob rises in his chest. He drops onto his knees, his hands clawing at the wooden floor. He’s aware that a small piece of glass is digging into his thumb but he doesn’t care. He sobs. And sobs. And wonders what the fuck he did wrong for the universe to punish him over and over again.

“I trusted you,” he whispers into the empty room. “I trusted you.”

17 notes · View notes

luvknow · 5 years

Text

not so bad | lee minho

genre: lee minho x fem!reader | friends-to-lovers ; roommates ; college au ; swearing ; alcohol consumption

summary: falling for your best friend isn’t the most ideal situation, but it’s not as bad as you think

wc: 13.7k

For most people, living with your best friend sounded like the most ideal situation - the absolute best and only option. Most people couldn’t even begin to think about living with anyone else. Think about it; endless nights staying up watching some shitty Netflix live-action adaptation of an anime, eating Chinese take-out on lazy Sunday evenings, going grocery shopping together? The list of things to do together was infinite! Who else would anyone want to do all the boring domestic stuff with other than their best friend?

But you, on the other hand, would rather be homeless.

“Wo~ow,” Minho scoffed when you rejected his generous offer.

The two of you sat in his newly-furnished, but still a bit empty, living room to take a break from unpacking and arranging all of his junk. About a month before the new semester started, Minho’s rich-ass uncle so graciously offered him one of his several houses just a couple bus stops away from campus. As long as Minho kept the place clean and maybe got a roommate or two to help pay the mortgage, then he was free to stay until he graduated. Of course, you were the first person he asked because the above statements spent with you sounded like so much fun.

Too bad you’re cold and heartless and wanted him to die alone.

“Why don’t you want to move in?” his asked, cheeks filled with lo mein. “Didn’t you just say you hated living at your place?”

“I didn’t say I hate it… I just hate that she brings a different guy over every other day.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound so bad. It sounds like normal roommate shit. It’s better than her being a slob, isn’t it?”

“I guess, but when it’s 2:00 am and I can hear EVERYTHING through the walls, I want to jump off the balcony.”

“Not everything.”

“I mean it, Minho. Everything.”

“Damn, invite me over next time.” You chuck a piece of your half-eaten fortune cookie and it hit him right on his bare forehead leaving a tiny scratch mark. “Ow! What was that for!?”

“Stop being weird!”

“If you hate hearing all that gross stuff all of the time, isn’t that all the more reason for you to come live with me?”

“No, because you’ll literally do the same thing!”

“Ok, you have way too much faith in me to think I’m going to bring someone home that often.”

“Hm, I do, don’t I…”

“C’mon, cheap rent, cool aesthetics, good company - what’s actually holding you back? Are you afraid you’ll fall in love with me?”

Minho held a single chopstick between his big bunny teeth and did that weird little smirk and wiggly brow combo that somehow caught the hearts too many girls back in your high school days. To this day, you were one of the lucky few who didn’t fall under his spell. The sriracha sauce stains on his cheek made him look EXTRA sexy.

“Why in the world would living with you mean I’d fall in love with you?” you asked, shoving a napkin to his cheek.

“Don’t girls like that corny domestic lifestyle shit? Coexisting in the same space, mutual seemingly-platonic hugs and cuddles, cooking together, and all that jazz?”

“You’re not even into all that jazzy stuff!”

“I like to cook!”

“And then what, I’m left with the dishes? I’ll be falling head over heels for you in no time.”

“That’s how mutualism works, silly! We each benefit from each other’s skills! Symbiosis, or whatever.”

A giggle left your lips from his expanded vocabulary. Who knew he knew so many words with more than two syllables?

“Those are some complicated words. I take it you like Biology 101?” you asked.

“I do! It’s super cool! Did you know in most species, the male is known to be the more colorful and prettier one and not the females? And the males compete with each other and the females are the ones choosing the prettiest, strongest male?”

“I did not know that.”

“Well, it’s true. It’s called sexual selection - it’s like peacocking.”

“Sounds like some shit you do with all your name brands and stuff.”

“Please, like other guys could even compare to my train of feathers.”

In the end, after days flowed into weeks of begging you to come live with him in what he called his playboy penthouse, he reluctantly accepted your rejection and was off to beg one of his other friends because there was no way in hell could he afford this place alone. Though ideally Minho wanted to be roommates, having you visit often was close enough. It’s just… asking you to move in with him was not about helping him with rent in the least. He truly, genuinely wanted to do dumb domestic chores, bicker all day, and have those deep, late-night talks with you whenever he could. Wouldn’t it be so fun if he annoyed you and followed you around every waking minute of the day?

Doing all of those things to half the extent would be just enough for now. His favorite activities with you were anything involving food. Even grocery shopping, normally one of his least favorite and most stressful chores by himself, was tolerable with you around because you knew just the right cuts of meat and what ingredients were needed for the perfect meal.

“Why did you pick so many vegetables? I’m not a rabbit…” the seemingly twelve year old next to you pouted. Like an angsty teenager, he used the cart as a means of support and followed closely behind with a pout on his lips as you dumped vegetable after vegetable into the cart.

“You kind of look like one, though.”

“Are you callin’ me cute?”

“I’m calling you a nuisance.”

“A cute nuisance, right?”

“Oh, my God, you’re so annoying.”

But soon the semester would start and your day would no longer be spent with him, it’d be spent at the library either studying or tutoring the dumb freshmen. Before you ask, yes, he was jealous of all the other people who took up your time and yes, he’s very clingy. You could see where Soonie, Doongie, and Dori all got their bad habits from. Normally, with any other guy including some long-term boyfriend, you’d be tired and annoyed if they were anything like Minho. But only the real Minho could get away with texting you so often and wondering why you weren’t baking brownies with him at ten at night.

Things weren’t easy on your end, either. You barely had time for yourself and it was only the first round of midterms for the semester! All you ever did these days was wake up, eat, school, eat some more if and ONLY IF you had time, and finally sleep… sometimes. This routine included the weekends, too. You offered for Minho to join you in the library for a study sesh nearly every day, but he’d rather die than sit in germ-infested chairs that are never sanitized, so yeah, you don’t get to see him face-to-face very often anymore. Facetime and Skype would have to do for now.

But then all that lost time started to catch up with you. You’d often come home late, especially if you knew your roommate had someone over to do their thang, and before you could flop on your couch to take a breather, it was completely missing from the living room because your roommate packed up all of her shit and left! Without even telling you! How rude, right!? Until you found a note on the coffee table that said, ‘I moved out today! Sorry if this is such short notice… You haven’t been home the past couple of weeks for me to tell you in person and I didn’t want to break it to you in text…’

Ok, so you wouldn’t say you were totally not at fault for this considering she was considerate enough to want to tell you about moving out in person, but didn’t she think to at least text you like… a couple of days before she did it!? Your lease was supposed to renew tomorrow, but now there wasn’t enough time to find a last-minute roomie on the college forum-version of craigslist and you didn’t make enough money to pay for the rent solo, so now you were almost homeless.

So that’s how you ended up in front of Minho’s place at half-past midnight on the dot with your big stuffed bear in your arms and a cheeky, adoring smile on your guilty-written face. You must have woken him up because his fluffy hair was sticking up in all directions, his eyes were barely open, and… he was shirtless…

“I’m not interested in your Girl Scout Cookies,” he mumbled tiredly.

“I wish I was selling those, then maybe I wouldn’t be here…”

“What do you mean?”

“Guess who wants to be your roommate ~!” you sang cheerfully.

“No.”

“Wha-? Why not!?”

“I already have one.”

“Who!?”

“Changbin,” he said, shooting his thumb to the small lazy boy lounging on the couch. Wasn’t he rich as fuck also? What does he need to live here for?

“‘Sup,” Changbin greeted, unable to look away from the television.

“Don’t you have one more room in this place? I’ll even sleep in a closet if I have to,” you pouted tiredly. You were ready to ring in the water works if you had to because if Minho rejected you one more time, your tears were ready to flow.

“Whoa, you’re that desperate, huh? What happened?”

“Roommate moved out, I couldn’t find another one, cried and contemplated life for a little bit, and now I’m here.”

“Damn, that is pretty bad…”

“Yeah, so as you can see, I really need you right now.”

Minho knew you were never one to rely on people, no matter how close you two were. For as long as he could remember, you always did everything on your own. So for you to say that you needed him, you must have really meant it. Your words were soft and quiet, your gaze set on the porch you stood on, and of all things he hated, seeing you so upset and stressed like this was among his top five on the list. How could he turn you away when this was a time you needed him the most? He knew if he were in your position, you’d welcome him in without hesitation.

You sighed tiredly, pushing your pride aside to ask a friend a favor. “So could you spare another roommate? Just until I can get back on my feet again?”

“Hm…” Minho fake-contemplated, rubbing his scruffy chin. “You know, normally I would never do this, but since you’re my friend, I GUESS I could let you stay here until you’re set.”

“If it’s too much trouble, or if you don’t want me here, I can go -”

“No! You’ll stay here with me for as long as you’d like.” A half-naked but jolly Minho smothered you in a bone-crushing hug. Even though touching so much surface area of his skin made you cringe, his hug made you feel more at home than your apartment could ever make you feel.

“Don’t ever assume I don’t want you here, dumbass. I’ll always welcome you with my open, naked, buff arms.”

“Ugh, this is so gross.” Regardless, you returned his hug with equal force. You never felt safer. “Thank you. I seriously owe you one.”

“Anything for my girl. Where’s all your stuff?”

“Yeah, that sounded more like a tomorrow problem, but I came here tonight because I was lonely.”

“Ha ha, you miss me ~”

“Just a little.”

“Since you’re already here, just stay the night. We can order food and start our big, happy, poly-domestic partnership right now.”

“For the love of God, please do not say that aloud in public…”

“No promises.”

Minho dragged you into the only other bedroom that wasn’t occupied and you’re pretty sure it was just as big as your living room. It was pretty much furnished with all of the basics, so you’re lucky that you won’t have to bring too many heavy things in the morning. As you were admiring the room, a finally fully-clothed Minho chucked his pajamas at you.

“You can wear these for tonight,” he said.

“Ew! Why did you give me your boxers!?”

“I thought my pants would be too long on you?”

“I’m not wearing wearing these.”

“So ungrateful… My sweatpants are in my room in the drawer. Go nuts.”

Minho left you alone to go order food for his two favorite pals while you were left to your own devices in the room where the magic happened, as he called it. For a dude, you knew he was on the cleaner side, but his bedroom was a lot tidier than you expected. There weren’t any clothes on the floor, all of his accessories were placed neatly by the mirror, and the only thing out of place was his blanket that was jumbled up in the corner of his bed. You suddenly felt a wave of guilt wash over you for disturbing his beauty sleep, but like you said at the door, you owed him one. Well, maybe more than one… like, a dozen ones…

While looking through the drawers for pants, you rolled your eyes at the site of all the name brands embroidered near the pockets. The logos were strictly swooshes and SUPREME. An opportunity to wear matching sweatpants and hoodie that were worth more than your textbooks didn’t come very often, so you chose the heather gray pair. Just as you slipped your head through the top, Minho came in to check on you.

“I ordered chicken, I hope that’s cool - whoa!” Minho burst into a fit of giggles at the site of his his already-oversized sweats looking extra oversized on you. You’ve worn his hoodies before and he doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of the way you look in them. You’re just so cute.

“You look like a jumbo toasty marshmallow.”

“I wouldn’t say jumbo… and marshmallows aren’t gray.”

“Same difference. Are you ready yet? Changbin’s gonna drink your beer if you don’t come out sooner.”

“That little -! He’s such a roach!!”

You sprinted out of the bedroom and hopped over the empty side of the couch, scaring the boy dressed in all black who was just trying to eat his chips and watch How to Get Away With Murder in peace. You didn’t know him as well as you knew Minho, but you two hung out within the same circle enough to be comfortable around each other so living with him shouldn’t be TOO terrible. Luckily, your drink looked like it hadn’t been touched.

“So are you like, living here living here?” Changbin asked with fake disgust in his tone.

“Yeah, so get used to it.”

“Just when I thought I’d get Minho all to myself…”

“What are you doing here, anyways? Aren’t you also like, super dumb rich? You could probably buy this whole building.”

“No, my parents are super dumb rich. I, on the other hand, barely have a dime to my name until I graduate law school.”

“Oh yeah, you changed your major right?”

“Yeah, and let’s just say my parents weren’t too happy about that… Thankfully, my favorite hyung here has so graciously let me into his home ~”

“Yeah yeah…” Minho mumbled, squeezing himself in the middle. “Anything’s better than being alone in this place, even if it means housing you two rats.”

“Hey, you said you’d always welcome me here, so that’s your fault for agreeing,” you argued.

“Love you, babe ~” Changbin sang.

Once the chicken arrived, your night of being welcomed to the penthouse had only begun. The rest of the evening was spent talking about literally anything your tipsy and dumb brains could conjure up. From crying about school, to praying to the stars, and telling Changbin stories about yours and Minho’s prepubescent days, you could already predict your days living here would make your heart full.

“I bet you’re single, huh, _____?” Changbin said suddenly after popping open his third beer.

A conversation about each other’s love lives was probably the last thing you wanted to talk about, especially when alcohol was involved, but your mouth started talking before your brain could process.

With a pout on your lips, you retorted, “Why do you say it like that?”

“Because what person would be ok with having their girlfriend living at another dude’s apartment and with me as the other roommate?”

“If you already knew the answer, why bother asking?”

“I just wanted to confirm in case you and I accidentally fall in love.”

“I’ll evict both of you before I let that happen under my roof.” Minho slurred.

“What is with you and Minho and the whole roommates falling in love trope? Is that a common thing? Have you two been watching dramas since you started living together?”

“So what if we have!?” Changbin yelled.

“They’re not realistic, you know.”

“It’s called a drama for a reason.”

“I feel sorry for the next person you end up dating.”

“Yeah, me too.” Changbin took a huge, final chug of his beer before crushing it in his hands. So macho… “All right, I guess it’s time I pass out. See you guys in the morning. Don’t get too crazy while I’m asleep.”

“Nighty night.”

You and Minho were left in the quiet living room snuggled up in your own blankets. You thought the silence was comfortable, as you’ve spent enough time with him that not a word said in between for long periods of time was just fine, but by the look on his face you could tell something was up. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe he was just tired, but his eyes never left the random spot on the coffee table for a solid five minutes.

You threw a potato chip at his cheek.

“Hm?” he hummed, surprisingly unphased. His tired eyes turned to look at you questioningly.

“What’s on your mind, my Prince?” The origin of the beloved nickname was from the time you dared him to try out for the high school play as the leading role and to your excitement and his dismay, he was passed the audition. He’d never admit it to your face, but he kind of enjoyed the spotlight and popularity for a while, and he never lets you forget how much he loved that nickname.

You managed to crack a smile from him and your worries began to fade away. “I was just thinking about something.”

“‘Bout what?”

“What Changbin said - what if you end up really liking someone and they’re not ok with you living with two hot and sexy guys?”

“Well, he can either get over it or I’ll dump him.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Why not? Remember that pact we made our first year of high school? The one where we pinky promised each other that no matter what, we wouldn’t let anyone come in between us?”

“Of course I do, but we were like what, fourteen? That was so long ago!”

“So?”

“So what I mean is…”

The ruggedly handsome boy beside you sighed deeply like he was ready to tell you something important. He laid his heavy hands on your shoulder and pulled you close so that you had all of your attention on him and not the fact that there was only two inches between your faces and that he smelled like alcohol. Was his skin always this clear? What the hell was his skincare routine? The blush on your cheeks continued to glow brighter as his eyes bore deep into your own, like he was searching for an answer to a question that only you held the answer to. He must admit that your shy side made you look so cute. Each second that passed was more intimate than the last and you so wished that he’d tell you what the hell was up with him already because your inadvertent breath-holding from the close proximity was making you light-headed. This felt like one of those scenes in those corny dramas that Minho watches - was he about to… dare you say… kiss you…?

Then you figured Minho learned a thing or two in drama class because his serious persona flew out the window when he shook you roughly by the shoulders, but at least you could breathe freely again.

“You shouldn’t have to choose between me and someone you like ~!” he whined childishly. “If he doesn’t like you living here, and you really like him, I don’t want you to be stuck in the middle!”

“Minho, you idiot, you’re the sole reason I’m not homeless and dying on the street, so what the hell do you want me to do IF that ever happens!? Move out!?”

“Ah, I didn’t think about it that way…”

“Lee Minho,” you emphasized to the pouty boy. “If - if - I meet someone I like, and they don’t like that I’m living with two guys, then fine, I can understand that and feelings like that can easily change over time. But if he can’t understand that you’re my best friend, that I cherish our friendship more than anything, and thinks there’s something else going on, then that’s when I’ll dump him. So there’s no need for you to worry that I have to choose between those two, ok?”

Minho sighed once more, breathing out all his worries about you being alone forever and stuck being a hermit in his apartment. “Ok, I believe you.”

“God, you’re so weird! Since when did my love life matter to you?”

“We’re nearing graduation, _____. We’re not getting any younger! And look, we’re both STILL single as a pringle…”

“When you and I are twenty-five and alone, unemployed and rotting away in this very room, then that’s when we’ll cry about it. But for now, we gotta worry about graduating.”

“I know. I just want you to be happy ~” With crocodile tears in his big, curious eyes, he pulled you in for a bone-crushing hug. It reminded you of all the times you told him not to touch you because he was being too sappy or he was sweaty and proceeded to hug you tighter anyways. Those were the best hugs.

“Shut up, I am happy.”

“Good.”

“What about you, hm? What if a girl you like sees that I live here?”

“Easy - I’ll just say you’re the housekeeper.”

“… You’re going to make one dumb girl very happy one day.”

“You think so?” he asked sincerely. “You really think I could make someone happy one day?”

There weren’t enough words in the dictionary to tell Minho how much happiness and sunlight he brought into your life. From the minor inconveniences to the darkest days, Minho was always your only source of light. You were way too tired to even attempt to be cheesy with him and closed your eyes instead, relaxing into his tight hug and hoping sleep would find you sooner rather than later.

“I know so, Lee Know.”

You stayed in Minho’s arms while the hum of the television and rhythm of his heart lulled you to sleep. Your favorite boy was content with where he was - holding you in his arms and stroking your hair until you were asleep and you didn’t have to worry about school, moving out, and whether this was mutually platonic or anything but. He thinks that there’s no way that ordinary best friends could lay like this and not cause any sort of tension in between. Then again, you two were extraordinary at best, so maybe the standard rules didn’t apply. To an unknowing passerby, this scene might look like two people in love who couldn’t get enough of each other. If Changbin came to see this, he’d probably think the same thing.

In the end, Minho wouldn’t care what anyone thought if they saw. It didn’t matter because this just felt so… right.

He’ll question his tugging heartstrings some other time.

Minho ended up carrying your sleeping form to your room. After tucking you in and resisting the urge to crawl onto the open space beside you, he thinks to himself that he could get used to this.

There was no way you could get used to this.

For such a huge place, only one of the two bathrooms had a shower. Which seemed fine, right? Considering there were only three of you living there. But you totally forgot that you lived with two of the most high-maintenance men you’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. Minho wasn’t as bad as Changbin because he didn’t spend an hour moisturizing his entire body and fixing his hair - he only took half an hour. But you know that weird thing guys do when they take a dump they take an extra half hour just to play phone games or scroll through social media? So think about it, two boys who are mildly-to-severely high maintenance took a total of almost three hours using the damn bathroom.

That wasn’t even the worst of it! Other than the night you told Minho you were moving in, you guys haven’t had any fast food since. The two of them were watching their weight and muscle progress together so their diet strictly cut out carbs and the good stuff which meant the fridge was filled with veggies and brown grains you couldn’t even pronounce.

And even then, that wasn’t the worst. The absolute worst was when Minho would text you or call you at nine on the dot every single night that you weren’t home at that time. First, he’d call, and half of the time you would answer, but when you didn’t, he’d spam your messages until you replied with a pin drop of your location.

Tonight was the last straw.

“Stop calling,” you scolded while walking home from the library.

“So Changbin and I are in the mood for pizza and we figured you wanted some. You must be tired of all the quinoa,” he explained, ignoring your scolding. “Where are you?”

What’s the best way to spook Minho but not to the point where he’d call the police and demand an amber alert?

“I can’t right now. I’m with a guy.”

There’s a slight pause on the other end and something that sounded like he dropped something on the floor. You can hear Changbin’s faint ‘bro, what the hell!’ in the background and Minho heard you stifle a giggle.

“What? A guy? Who?”

“No one you know. I’ll see you when I get home ~!”

“Wait -”

You hung up before Minho could get another word in and you instantly regretted it. Once Minho found out you were kidding, he was probably going to relieve you of your pizza privileges and force you to eat more quinoa as punishment. You would hate it initially, but if there was even a slight chance that this made your message to him to stop worrying and calling you all the time crystal clear, then you’d eat bowls upon bowls of it and get all the grains stuck between your teeth because that’s how worth it it’d be.

What the hell had gotten into him, anyways? He was never like this in high school. If anything, HE was the boy you’d sneak out with, doing dumb hooligan things with, and being too close for comfort with - he was the boy he was trying to protect you from. Not even your parents were this protective, but you had to give him credit for being so diligent.

You weren’t too far from home, so you left Minho’s texts all on read until you stepped through the door. Changbin wasn’t surprised in the least that you were joking, and Minho knew you couldn’t have possibly be truthful about that, either, but he stepped out the door and scanned the hallways just to make sure you weren’t actually with some creep. You took this moment to sneak a slice or three before Minho could hoard the whole pie.

“I can’t believe you fell for that,” you teased, cheeks filled with cheese.

“I can’t believe you would joke about that.”

“I can,” Changbin muttered.

“What made you guys buy pizza?”

“A man can only eat salads and white chicken for so long. We deserve this.”

“We all deserve this. I wasn’t even on a diet in the first place, I was forced into it.”

“Yeah, but you look great at least, so you’re welcome.”

“Whatever.”

Sure, there were a lot of inconveniences when it came to living with two dudes who annoyingly functioned the same, but you would take on this form of entertainment over television any day. So yeah, Minho was annoying like ninety percent of the time… but he was just being a good friend and worrying about you.

It was nice to be cared for once in a while. Minho was the only one who would go out of his way just for you. Whether it was picking you up in the middle of the night from some party to walk you home or scolding you harshly about how you should wear scarves more so you wouldn’t get sick while making you a hot bowl of soup made with love, he never made you feel like you were an inconvenience. This curfew thing was a little over the top, though.

Changbin went to his room after whining about being a law student and how hard it was that he had to wear a suit everyday to his internship, leaving you and Minho alone at the kitchen table. The kitchen was were you spent most of your time together, whether it was using the table to eat, play dumb board games, or as one big desk to study on. Tons of late-night studying, gossiping, and snacking were spent at this table with Minho sitting across from you every time.

“It’s been about a month since you moved in, right?” he asked, plucking a pepperoni off of your slice. “How do you like it so far?”

There’s a short silence in the air before you answered. It was a little worrying, so he kicked you under the table to make you answer faster. How dare you not immediately answer with anything other than ‘I fucking love it’? “Besides only having five minutes to shower every morning, forced to go vegetarian, and having a 9:00 PM curfew? It’s better than being homeless, that’s for sure.”

“Good.” Another short pause, followed by Minho shyly avoiding eye contact. “It’s a lot of fun having you around.”

“Really? I don’t scare any poor souls you try to bring home?”

“To be honest, I haven’t been trying.”

“Whoa, Minho the slut taking a hiatus!?” you teased, earning you a crumpled napkin to the face.

“Shut up.”

“Why the sudden disinterest?”

His shoulders did a tiny shrug as if letting you know that even he was unsure of why. He hoped you’d help him find the answer. “No one catches my eye these days, I guess.”

“You’re such a liar.”

“It’s true!”

“Yeah, ok…”

“Well, what about you, huh? Has your boy-crazy self found someone interesting?”

You take a big, defeated bite into the leftover crust, allowing you to exploit your anger through vigorous chewing. Your efforts have obviously gone to a waste. “You and Changbin always like to remind me that I’m single.”

“I simply asked if you found anyone hot.”

“You know what’s sad? I haven’t…”

“Ah, I see - Changbin and I made your standards too high now, huh?”

“Both of you are probably stashing the hot guys in the gym somewhere because you know I won’t find them.”

“Damn, you caught us.”

“You know what else is sad, though?” Minho had to suffer and watch you sip your cola with your sad, pouty lips. It wasn’t that he felt bad, or anything, you just looked so… self-pitying. He’s seen this look way too often during your first year of college when some other chick would swoop in a steal the guy you had your eyes on. “Even if I did like someone, I don’t think I would act on it.”

“Why the hell would you cockblock yourself like that?”

“I’ve never been on a legitimate date before!”

“You’re such a damsel. You’ve totally been on a date before.”

“Senior prom with Hyunjin doesn’t count.”

“You guys had dinner and some dancing, doesn’t that count?”

You ignored your idiot friend’s justification and would much rather feel sorry for yourself than to consider prom as a legitimate date. You’re what, nearly into your twenties now and have gone this long without a guy properly asking you out on a date, maybe a movie and eating dinner at a nice restaurant with a small bouquet of flowers next to you, and ending the night with a kiss? The thought of your inadvertent abstinence made you want to chug a bottle of something strong.

“Do we still have that bottle of wine lying around?” you muttered, searching every corner of the kitchen. “Aha! Found it.”

“Mm, pizza and old wine. How are you single again? You’re so classy.”

“Do you want a glass or not?”

“… Hand it over.”

So another night was spent drinking and drowning your sorrows away while Minho watched - what else was new? Before, he didn’t think much of these nights, considering they were spent with Changbin also who drank just as much as you did, but Minho hadn’t even finished his first glass yet when you were already pouring your third. You must have been really going through it.

“Ok, I think that’s enough,” Minho scolded, taking the glass away. Clumsily and lazily, you reached out to take it back, but your state of mind was too loopy for you to fight back further. God, your tolerance had gone down significantly as time passed. Was this indication that you were getting old?

“Is this how you’re going to act on your first date at dinner while having several glasses of wine?” the mean boy across teased. “Good luck with that.”

“That’s ok, I’m never going on a first date, anyways.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because who would want to date me?”

“Hey.”

Your eyes are droopy and you feel like you could pass out from the drowsiness of the wine at any second, but Minho’s hand on top of yours snaps you awake. There were plenty of ways you and Minho shared skinship, like hugging, wrestling, high-fiving, and punching each other, but hand-holding was not one of them. It was… weird. You know when cats sometimes put their tiny paws on top of human hands? This was what it reminded you of and you had to hold in your laughter.

“Don’t say that stuff about yourself, only I can do that.”

“Well, there has to be a reason why I haven’t been on a date yet. It’s because I’m unlovable, right? Besides, I wouldn’t know what to do if I was on a real date. Like what do we talk about? The weather? That’s what adults talk about, right?”

“Yeah, if you work a nine-to-five at an accounting firm. You really are kind of hopeless, aren’t you? That’s ok, you and I can practice.”

“Practice?”

“Yeah, practice on me. Pretend you and I are on a date.” Minho left his seat across from you to steal Changbin’s seat that was to your right. The proximity of your bodies was so close that your knees knocked together, but your tipsy best friend was too distracted by your challenge to care. “A~and boom, we’re on a date.”

“Right now?”

“Right now. Look, we got our glasses of wine on hand, some dinner, we could even watch a movie if you want. But first thing’s first, we gotta test out your communication skills. What kind of things would you ask or talk about on your date?”

“I guess… What do you major in -?”

“Pause, red flag number one: never talk about school. Next question.”

“U-Uh, what kind of music do you like…?”

“Better. Let’s pretend that I’m some snobby older rich dude and I say, ‘oh, today’s music doesn’t interest me. I prefer classical music such as Bach and Beethoven, you know?’”

“I would never go on a date with someone so pompous and old.”

“Ok, but let’s say you’re dating this guy for money.”

“Minho!”

“At the rate this fake date is going, this is what your future dates are going to look like, _____! I’m just helping you prepare!”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but… you’re so right. I’m gonna end up as a sugar baby and I’ll be too hyped up about the influx in my bank account that I’ll drop out of college and make this my career!”

“Whoa, I didn’t say that -”

“I can’t believe this is what all my hours in the library have amounted to! Screw good grades, if I can’t find love, then what’s the point! This is it - this is how my life is really going to be like -!”

What Minho said goes in one ear and out the other as both of your hands are tangled in the mess of your hair and your blood pressure is suddenly through the roof. You were making a huge deal out of this fake date but you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t make a huge deal out of nothing! If this was how you were on a fake date, Minho doesn’t want to know how you’d be on a real date.

The first thing you hear is his boyish laugh as he removed your hands from your head before you could tear out your hair. You look like you have a bird nest on both sides of your pouty face and even though Minho thought you were being ridiculous, you still looked cute regardless. His tiny but warm hands smoothen your messy strands before holding your face. It’s hard to look him in the eyes after your mini breakdown and he didn’t make it easier by the way his thumbs caressed your cheeks. Was he doing this on purpose because he liked to see you squirm? You didn’t think so when you finally looked up.

Minho didn’t have his signature sly smile where the corners of his lips curled like a cheshire cat. There was no teasing twinkle in his eyes that normally accompanied it, either. Both were softer, like he couldn’t understand why someone as charming, intelligent, and hilarious as you could constantly worry about finding someone who would love you back. How could someone not, when you had the stars in your eyes after spotting a dog across the street, when you could sing an entire concert setlist in the shower, or when you had the cute sad look on your face after you burned your third pancake? Even now, in your tipsy and sad state, your eyes still sparkled and begged to be loved - exactly like all the cute puppies you spotted on your walks with Minho. The thought of someone NOT falling head over heels for you sounded completely ridiculous.

Before his heart could drop to the pit of his stomach, Minho broke the intimacy by squishing your cheeks so hard that your lips puckered like a fish.

“Stop being so sad,” he said sternly.

“Just like that, the sadness is gone,” you sputtered sarcastically, careful not to spit in Minho’s eye.

“I mean it. You’ll find someone who loves you just as much as you love them. No, you’ll find someone who loves you more.”

“How do you know…?”

“Because I’m Lee Know, remember?”

His cocky smirk returned and the corners of his lips curled adoringly. It was a smile you were more accustomed to and you’d never admit it aloud, but you liked this one much better. Soft Minho was kind of gross.

“You’re intelligent, selfless, sometimes funny, and life would be so exciting to be in love with you. I promise you’ll find someone.”

“… Tell me I’m pretty.”

“Wow, I put so much heart into my speech and that’s all you got out of it!? That I didn’t call you pretty!?”

“All of that doesn’t matter if I’m not cute.”

Minho squeezed your cheeks a bit harder. “Nevermind, you’re hopeless.”

“Ow ok, I’m kidding! Can you let go of my face now!? You know I bruise easily!”

He released his hold on your face and you tried to circulate the blood that pooled up. Minho usually wasn’t good with these types of talks, but something must have changed after high school. What kind of classes was he taking that he was being so poetic to the point that your heart felt like it was fluttering? Must be the bit of wine left in your bloodstream.

Even so, you were thankful. What would you do without your handsome Prince?

“I guess I’ll try to sleep the hopelessness away,” you sighed. Before heading off to your room, you wrapped your arms tightly around your best friend’s neck from behind and pressed your rosy cheek to his own. Normally, he’d let out a grossed-out groan, but tonight he returned the gesture with his hands on top of yours. “I love you, you know that, right?”

His chest ached. “Mhm. Love you, too, pretty girl. Sweet dreams.”

“You too, my Prince. Don’t stay up too late.”

The sound of your door closing triggered an empty silence in the entire apartment. Not a single sound is heard other than Minho’s beating heart that felt like it was blasting in his ears. Now he’s alone sitting at the dining table, downing the last of his wine and all he could think about was your lack of presence and how it lingered casually all around him. He could still feel your cheeks in his hands, your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, and the way the warmth of your cheek heated up his own. That wasn’t enough - he wanted more of you, but that was for a later time even he couldn’t predict. After cleaning up the table and trying to leave those moments in the dining room, they ended up following him to his bed until he was too tired to stay awake thinking about them.

That night, you ended up dreaming about Prince Minho and what it was like to be by his side forever.

It didn’t seem so bad.

There’s this crazy phenomenon that happened to you too many times to count, but this time had to take the cake. There were times when you’d have dreams about not necessarily random people, but people you didn’t normally associate yourself with. Like an old coworker, or a past partner for that one single assignment, or even that one time the guy next to you asked you to borrow a pencil for an exam. They would appear in your dreams at random with no purpose other than to play as your boyfriend, but the morning you wake up, you had this sudden weird… attraction towards them.

Maybe attraction wasn’t exactly the right word, but the moment they stepped into the room, you could feel your face heat up and your palms sweat and it really made you question your type in men because why was your body reacting so sensitively to seeing someone who literally just asked you for a pencil? Maybe this was why you’ve been single for so long…

Now let it be reminded that you’re having these weird, little crushes on guys you practically considered strangers. But now, for the first time in your entire life - in all your years knowing that stupid, handsome idiot, you had your very first dream about Minho. If you acted like a fool in front of strangers, how did you act around your best friend? Let’s just say you didn’t know how to act… or rather, you did what you do best - make things like ten times more awkward than they should be.

What did you do when Minho woke up in the morning with his stupidly cute bedhead and flopped on the couch next to you muttering a soft and gentle ‘good morning ~’? You got up and ran to your room after returning the greeting with a squeaky voice. What did you do when he would wrap his arm around your shoulder in that sly, boyish way that literally meant nothing? You’d run to the bathroom, whether you were at home or out in public.

And what did you do when he would walk out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel around his waist? You literally ran. You went to your room, put on your workout gear, and you ran - ran as far as your legs could take you with your ears blasting music to drown out any thoughts about your best FRIEND.

With his heart sinking, Minho didn’t know what to do.

“Hey, have you seen _____ these past few days?” he asked Changbin sometime around dinner. He knew your schedule like the back of his hand and he made sure he gave himself enough time to ask Changbin for his opinion before you came home.

“Yeah…? I see her like everyday. She lives here, too, you know.”

“I know, but she seems a little distant lately, right?”

“Mm, not with me,” the buff boy shrugged casually. His once unquestioning expression quickly turned into something sly when he realized what kind of situation Minho was in. “What did you do?”

“Nothing!”

“That’s not what it looks like to me.”

“The last thing we did together for more than five minutes was eat pizza and drink wine and that was last week.”

“Did anything happen after drinking wine? We all know how you get when you drink…”

“Mm… she was moping about how she’s never going to go on a date, or something, and then I told her she doesn’t have to worry.”

“Why doesn’t she have to worry?”

It was then that Minho figured maybe this was the reason why you were avoiding him. Shyly, the older boy avoided the teasing gaze from his close friend. “N-No reason.”

“Is it because you told her how wonderful she is? Or how funny, and smart, and how all men were idiots for not falling head over heels for her ~?”

“Shut up.”

“I bet you called her pretty, too.”

“Ok, she made me say that!”

“God, no wonder she’s avoiding you! You probably made her fall head over heels for you, or something!”

“… You really think so?” he asked, hoping he didn’t sound too hopeful at the idea.

Thankfully, Changbin didn’t seem to catch it. “If I heard that kind of corny stuff coming from you, I’d react the same way, to be honest.”

The sound of the door unlocking made both boys jump and quickly drop the subject, but not without Changbin shooting Minho a ‘we’ll discuss this later’ glance that reminded him of his dad whenever he got in trouble. For the first time that week, you didn’t sprint to your room right away. Rather, with a cheeky grin on your lips, you joined the two boys who eyed you suspiciously at the dining table.

“What?” you asked innocently.

“Nice to finally see you for more than five minutes,” Minho pouted childishly.

“Aw, you miss me ~?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Why are you so smiley, missy?” the smaller, more suspicious boy squinted.

“I can’t be happy on this fine Thursday?”

“No.”

“Fine, you downer. I’m super stoked because guess who has a date tomorrow ~?”

A short silence fell at the table. The first ten seconds of silence was so the two idiots could process what you just said. The following ten seconds was just a series of different ugly facial expressions from thinking about the question too hard.

“Did Seungmin finally ask that one person out? He’s been talking about it for months, he won’t shut up,” Changbin asked.

“No, not him…”

“Woojin? He’s not really the dating type, though.”

“No, idiot, me! I have a date tomorrow!”

“With who?” Minho finally asked. Of course he knew you were the one with the date, but he didn’t want to believe it until you said it. The rest of the conversation didn’t matter after you told him who it was.

“This guy named Wooyoung in one of my classes. We worked on a project together sometime last year and I just found him in lecture the other day. Small campus, huh? We caught up this past week and he asked me out just now after walking me home. Ah, I can’t believe it!”

Your smile was bright and so big that Minho could hardly see your eyes. He couldn’t recall a time when you were this excited for something since you and him both got accepted to this school. He was happy to see you like this, despite the circumstances. With your eyes all sparkly and cheeks blushed pink, the bit of aching was worth it.

“Oh, I know Wooyoung!” Changbin had a goofy smile when he saw how disappointed you looked. “His dad and my dad are close friends and we got close by coincidence.”

“Aw man, you know him!? I wanted to date someone not within this weird circle of friends!”

“He’s not! He’s like a little bubble outside of the circle.”

“Whatever… he’s nice and rich, at least.”

“Now I know where your priorities lie. Minho, what do you think?”

“Hm?” You raised a curious brow at your spacey friend. Minho had been in his own little world after blocking out the details of how you ended up with a date tomorrow night. He put on a fake smile so you wouldn’t have to worry. “I don’t know Wooyoung, but I’m happy for you.”

“I’m kind of scared… what if I blow it like our fake date?”

“Good thing it was fake, right?” The handsome boy across from you ruffled your hair into a bird’s nest style - much like how it was last week. You were a mess, but you were his pretty little mess. “Don’t sweat it. You’ll do just fine.”

“Yeah, Wooyoung may be rich, but his standards aren’t that high - ow! What the hell, dude!” he whined, rubbing his bruising shin.

“You two are so mediocre when it comes to these pep talks… but thank you. I’m so excited that my cheeks hurt because I can’t stop smiling!”

Minho watched you hide your heated face in your hands. He hoped you’d smile like this for a long time, even if he wasn’t the reason behind it.

If the boys were allowed a collective three hours in the bathroom nearly every damn morning, you were allowed three hours to yourself once this evening. You practically put on a spa for yourself in preparation for this. Every centimeter of your body was exfoliated and moisturized, every strand of hair fixed in its place, and every eyelash was coated with mascara. Not to mention that your outfit didn’t have a single wrinkle to be seen.

“Not gonna lie, you look pretty decent,” Changbin admitted while leaning on the doorframe. “Expecting some dessert tonight, if you know what I mean?”

“You think I’ll let it go that far on my very first date? Who do you think I am!”

“A touch-starved damsel.”

“… Shut up.” At 7:00 pm on the dot, you received a text from Wooyoung that he’s here. “Ah, gotta go!”

Like you would on a Monday morning already late for class, you shoved all of your essentials in a bag and scurried for the door, but not before Minho came out of his room and caught you. After putting on your nice shoes, you finally looked up to stare back at your wide-eyed, jaw-dropped friend. The only other time he ever looked at you like that was prom night, and even though you were glammed up times ten that night, his face tonight was more intense. The sudden waves of confusion and erratic heartbeat skips reminded you of why you accepted to go on the date so quickly in the first place: to get rid of these weird feelings for your best friend that you couldn’t understand.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you whined. “Too much? Or too little?”

Perfect. “No, no. You look fine.”

“Really?”

“I promise. You got everything you need?”

“Uh, wallet, keys, phone…”

“Condom?”

“Minho!!”

“Just kidding! Be sure to practice abstinence because I’m not letting some guy come into our apartment just so you can do THAT.”

“Don’t worry, he has his own place.” He knew you were joking… kind of… you were joking, right…? “I’m kidding.”

“You better be… Don’t forget, curfew’s at 9:00 pm.”

“Ok, I’ll see you at 2:00 am ~!”

You did a final wave goodbye before heading out the door to forget all about Minho while he was stuck being a boring homebody. He heard his other, more irritating roommate tisk annoyingly from across the room.

“Shoulda said something ~” Changbin sang.

“What is there to say?”

“Baby, don’t leave! Why go out with a boy when you can go out with a MAN like me?”

“Oh, my God, I don’t really sound like that, do I?”

“Only sometimes.”

So while you were off on your date, smiling at him like no one else in the world could matter more, Minho would glue his ass to the couch and wait for you to come home.

Your first date was both exactly and the complete opposite of how you expected it to be - quite awkward, but it gradually melted into something you would best describe as comfortable. It didn’t feel very date-like. It felt more like you were eating dinner with a very handsome friend. You could easily see why all of your friends were jealous that you were on this date. Wooyoung was so easy to talk to and just his stare alone, he could get anyone to fall in love with him just like that.

A moment like this, when he’s laughing at your corny joke or fixing a loose strand of hair, was when you truly wished cupid would shoot a thousand arrows into your heart at one time with Wooyoung’s name on the heart-shaped head. That itself would solve about 75 percent of your problems. But it was too late, for your heart already had a hundred thousand arrows lodged in with no way of taking them out, and every single one had Minho’s stupid name on them.

Your date ended earlier than expected which was a little after midnight when his friend San called him in some party-related emergency. Of course you understood, as you’ve experienced being that friend one too many times, and he bid you a farewell with a sweet kiss on the cheek.

“Let’s do this again sometime,” he suggested.

“I’d love that!” Though it probably wasn’t going to happen.

During the walk home, you took the time to reflect on everything that went wrong tonight. Fifteen minutes in, and you couldn’t figure out why your heart didn’t beat for Wooyoung. Passers-by gave you a strange look as you passed because of how your face twisted in confusion, but they went unnoticed because now you actually had to deal with your feelings for Minho straight on.

When did this all start exactly? Like when did the first arrow lodge itself in your right ventricle? Was it in middle school when he stopped those bullies? Was it during your last year in high school when he hugged you so tight, crying tears of joy when the team won the championship basketball game? Maybe it was during your first college party when he held your hair up while you puked into the toilet, but you knew there was no way this all happened because of one silly dream… Maybe your feelings were there all along.

The saying goes when it rains, it pours, right? Tonight, that phrase is both hypothetical and literal.

In a matter of seconds, the skies cried heavily with no thunder or lightning to be heard or seen. On this warm night alone, you were getting soaked to the bone with little-to-no-coverage. You didn’t pack an umbrella and for some reason, even the store awnings couldn’t give you shelter very well, so your only option was to take off your pretty much-ruined nice shoes and sprint home barefoot and that’s exactly what you did.

Minho liked the rain. It was calming, but only added to the lonely ambiance on this fine Friday evening. From inside, he watched the city glow different colors as the light reflected off of the rain droplets and this was when he thought the city looked the most beautiful. He could fall asleep at any moment just to the sound of the rain.

Minho’s apartment is so high up that it’s difficult to see the details in in peoples’ faces and clothes as they walked the streets, but it was easy to spot the little speck running towards his building a couple of blocks away. No one else for blocks on end could be seen other than the tiny speck running. He didn’t have to see your face to know that it was you running home because you didn’t have an umbrella. Not that he’s not happy to see you home, but why were you here so early? And alone, for that matter? Did that Wooyoung guy ditch you?

“Idiot,” Minho mumbled grumpily before grabbing his umbrella and making his way to you.

By the time he reached the lobby, he thought he’d see you inside by now, but that wasn’t the case and he was starting to get a little worried. He didn’t waste time running out the building and immediately he spotted you taking a breather under the big coffee shop awning. You’re completely soaked as if you took a dip in the ocean, strands of hair clinging to your rosy cheeks, and your shoes in your hand…? You’re barefoot, feet all cut up and a little bruised. Without looking at your face, a stranger could say that you were having a bad night, but even Minho knew that wasn’t exactly the case. You didn’t look disappointed or anything near that.

You must have enjoyed the date.

A huge shadow blocked the streetlight from your body and a pair of Minho’s beat up dance shoes are in your eyesight. Tiredly, but happily, you look up to a stern-faced crush who held an umbrella over his head.

“‘Sup,” you greeted casually.

“Let’s go, you’re gonna get sick,” he muttered.

Neither of you said a word until you reached your shared home, and Minho didn’t bother to give you a second glance until then, too. After carelessly tossing his umbrella near the pile of shoes, he found his spot on the couch again.

“You should shower.”

“Right…”

Still, he didn’t give you the time of day, and it hurts. From your cut-up feet to your pounding headache, everything just hurts, and your entire body was ready to crawl under your sheets and call it a night. But you obeyed, taking a long, hot shower to wash away all the wrongs that happened tonight.

When you were done, Minho had a first-aid kit ready in his hands. He didn’t seem as angry as earlier - now he just looked worried.

“Sit,” he commanded nicely.

Of course you obeyed like a misbehaved puppy walking to its cage. Nervously, you sat on the couch while Minho sat on the floor. Before you could ask what he was doing, he had already grabbed one foot to inspect for major cuts.

“You don’t need to do that - ah, hey!” The concerned boy wasn’t listening when he dabbed a cotton swab soaked in disinfectant over a single super small cut on your foot… that was bleeding… a lot. “That stings, bro!”

“Good, that means it’s working. Now sit still.” He put a tiny bandaid over the clean cut and when he thought he was all finished, he held both of your ankles in his hand. “Why is one bigger than the other? Is it swollen?”

“I may have tripped once… or twice…”

An aggravated sigh left Minho’s pink lips before he grabs the bandage to wrap around your swollen ankle. After neatly wrapping around once, the rest of the wrapping was done by yanking the bandage until you felt the blood flow cut off at that point.

“Ow ow!! Chill, Minho, you’re hurting more than helping!”

After realizing what he’d been doing, Minho halted, muttering a soft ‘sorry’ before re-wrapping your ankle with more love and care.

“Why were you alone tonight?” he asked out of the blue.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean why wasn’t your date walking you home like he should? Doesn’t he know it’s common courtesy to do so?”

“Ah, well he had an emergency to attend to.”

“Still… He just left you to run home in the rain, and look what happened. Also, why the hell were your shoes off!?”

“I didn’t want to ruin them…”

The inside of his cheek was starting to numb from all the inherent chewing. At this point, Minho was tired, and you probably were, too. What was the point in arguing?

“Don’t date that guy,” he demanded.

“Why not?”

“You shouldn’t be dating someone who leaves you in the middle of a date. Was it even a real emergency?”

“It was at the end of a date. But no, not a REAL real emergency…”

“Still, he left you, and look how you ended up.” Another sigh left his lips. “I don’t like him, _____.”

“I know.” When Minho finally looked up, he saw that you were smiling at him. You’re not angry or upset by the way he was acting, and he’s really surprised. What was going through your mind? “You don’t have to worry. I don’t think there’s going to be another date.”

Good. “How come?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t have that ‘I can’t wait to see you again’ type of feeling like I thought I would. I guess I wasn’t that into him.”

The shy boy below you cleared his throat hoping you wouldn’t see how relieved he was. “Oh, that’s good.”

“What happened to you wanting me to be happy with some guy?” you teased, lightly kicking his arm.

“I still do. Just not with him.”

“Mm. Maybe the next one will work out better.”

“Yeah… the next one.”

Minho finished wrapping up your ankle and went to stash the first aid kit in his room. You happily followed your confidant slash magical healer and he wasn’t complaining. In fact, he hid his growing smile so you wouldn’t see.

“I had a weird dream last night,” you said after flopping on his king-sized mattress.

“Tell me about it.”

“You were in it as a Prince.”

“Hm, doesn’t sound so weird to me.”

“I was right beside you the whole time.”

“Ooh, tell me more.” Minho hopped on right beside you and the two of you laid side-by-side as you told your fairytale. “Were you my Princess? My sidepiece mistress? The cook’s daughter I fell in love with? Oh, or were we betrothed to unite two kingdoms together?”

“Dude, I don’t know…”

“God is in the details, baby. What else happened?”

“That’s all I could remember. You were a Prince who smiled everyday and I was right there the whole time.”

“I probably smiled all the time ‘cuz you were next to me.”

To play it off as playful, the boy only a couple centimeters beside you nudged you several times. It was hard for him to keep up the facade when you said,

“I was probably next to you the whole time because of your smile.”

Now what was he to do? Subconsciously, Minho turned on his side to face you. With your cheeks and the tip of your nose a baby pink, you refused to look at him. Maybe you were getting sick.

“What, you like my smile, or something?”

“Have I ever told you it makes me feel safe?”

“Safe? Why?”

“It lets me know I have nothing to worry about - that I’m going to be just fine.”

The ceiling must have been very interesting. You have yet to look at him and though he wanted you to, he hopes you don’t, otherwise the magnetic pull between your lips might be too strong for him to resist. He wondered what you tasted like.

“I’m glad I make you feel that way.”

The world felt at peace again when he returned to his position on his back. As if the roof did not exist above, the two of you laid on his bed and pretended to count the stars. Minho’s hand blindly found its way to yours and the tiny bumps and touches of his fingertips made goosebumps travel up your arms. The handsome, confusing boy traced tiny stars in the back of your hand.

“Did you like your dream?” he finally asked.

“You mean did I like being stuck with you for eternity?”

“Yeah.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

His shy giggle filled the empty spaces of his room, and yours soon followed.

“Neither would I.”

An eternity together wouldn’t be so bad.

The spot beside you on Minho’s bed felt empty. You must have knocked out the night before, too tired to crawl back to your cave of a room, and ended up sleeping next to him the whole night. Either last night’s date was exhausting or you didn’t want to leave Minho or his bed because you slept in so late that he had already got up for the day.

Changbin was eating cereal in front of the television when you finally left the room.

“Whoa, what the hell,” he smirked, not knowing that’s where you slept last night. “Did something happen that I don’t know about?”

“No, idiot. We were talking and we fell asleep. Where is he, anyways?”

“Either at the gym or running errands or both.”

“Ah, ok…” If you knew Minho like you thought you did, then maybe he’s at the gym, but running errands? The hell kind of errands did he have? You were the one who ran all the house-related errands.

“You goin’ out tonight?”

“Can’t. Huge paper I have to work on.”

“C'mon, it’s Jeongin’s birthday! And Minho’s going ~”

Your cheeks burned from his teasing. “So? I’ll literally fail if I don’t get a good grade on this assignment.”

“Fine, you bookworm…”

So that’s what you did - you became a homebody for the day and hermitted in your room to work on that cursed paper. It was hard to focus when all you could think about was going out tonight with Minho. If you went, would you stick by his side the whole time? Would he drag you to the dance floor and hold you close? Would the alcohol take over and close the gap between your lips?

Let’s pretend the answer was yes to all of the above.

You didn’t see him for the entire day. Not for lunch, or dinner, or when he finally came home and hopped in the shower, or when he got ready in ten minutes, or even when he and Changbin left for the party. No texts or calls, either.

He was avoiding you at all costs.

Ugh, dammit, _____! Why did you sleep in his bed last night!? Ok, to be completely fair, he was sending you mixed signals that everything was fine, you know? He smiled after you told him how it made you feel safe, those little touches and whispers, literally agreeing to how life beside each other 'til you both grew old and wrinkly would be ideal… Why would you want to leave his side on the bed after all of that?

Boys were confusing, you knew that. Maybe you just misread the signs.

Minho felt like his heart was collapsing. Waking up beside you made this morning the best he’s ever had. You were so sleepy and so cute… All he wanted to do was press little kisses all on your forehead.

But no, he couldn’t do that. You just happened to fall asleep here with no real purpose. It’s not like he was going to wake you up and tell you to move? But did that make him selfish for wanting you to stay when you didn’t intend to? Maybe, so that’s why he had to slip out of the apartment before you woke up.

In the morning, he ran for a couple of hours. Then he went to lift weights. Then he ate and wasted time around town until it was time to get ready for Jeongin’s birthday. Nothing he did made it easier for him to forget about you and the night before. He’ll just use this opportunity of free booze to help him with that.

After successfully slipping in to get ready and out for a night of festivities, he thought that avoiding you for the whole day only made him miss you more.

“You’re not gonna do anything stupid tonight, are you?” Changbin asked.

“No promises.”

Well, no promises was right, because as soon as the two stepped into Chan’s place, Minho weaved his way through the crowd of strangers and went straight for the alcohol table. There, Chan was serving the jungle juice.

“Hey, you made it!” he greeted them, but his grin dropped when he saw the distressed look on Minho’s face. “Yikes, rough night?”

“You have no idea,” Changbin answered for him while he chugged the sweet drink.

He held the solo cup out to his concerned friend. “More.”

“Uh-oh…” Chan didn’t disobey.

For a while, Minho was fine on his own while Changbin was off doing God knows what to some poor soul. He socialized here and there, greeted the totally incoherent birthday boy, and even flirted his way around for the sake of distraction. When something new didn’t seem to work, he’d down another shot, and by the time it was 2:00 am, Minho could barely stand on his own.

“Oh, son of a - are you kidding me!?” Changbin groaned after seeing his poor roommate passed out on Chan’s couch.

“Should I call an Uber…?” Jisung asked.

“Nah, I have a cheaper solution.”

At 2:03 am, while you were munching on some chips and crying to some Miyazaki movie, Changbin’s name lit up your phone.

“Yo.”

“How much do you love your roommates?”

“On a scale of one to ten? Four and a half.”

“Can you cash in that four and a half and pick us up from Chan’s place ~?” the whiny boy begged. “Minho is being insufferable! He keeps drinking everything in site!”

That did not sound good… Minho got very, uh, unbearable when he wasn’t himself. You felt your headache come back and your blood pressure fly through the roof.

“But I don’t have a car.”

“The keys to the Audi are hanging by the door.”

“What the - he has a car!?”

“No, his uncle has a car. Just don’t tell him we’re using it. Hurry, before he gets outta hand - NO, DON’T LET HIM DRINK THAT -!!”

The line cut out and the dial tone rang in your ears for a solid five seconds before you could process what Changbin was asking of you. So you were supposed to grab the keys to an expensive Audi, drive to Chan’s house, pick up your incompetent roommates, and somehow end up back home alive? Well, all right…

The key to the car wasn’t actually a key… It was just a remote. The car was hidden in the corner of the underground garage and if you weren’t being careful, someone could honestly kidnap you at any moment and no trace of the kidnapping would be seen. The Audi was very beautiful, all white and shiny like it was brand new. The interior was pitch black with red stitching, tons of fancy buttons normal cars didn’t really have, and a button for the ignition. You prayed to whatever Lord was listening that it was Automatic because you had zero idea how to handle Manual.

The drive wasn’t that far, but it was far for a walk, so no wonder Changbin called you for assistance. After texting him that his personal, beautiful Uber driver had arrived, you were left with your erratic thoughts about how you were going to handle seeing Minho for the first time since last night. Would it be awkward? Maybe on your end because you were sober enough to remember everything, but maybe his drunken state would ease up the atmosphere.

Your love life sucked. Your crushes never worked out in the end, your first date ended up mediocre, and now you fell for your best friend. You were in denial for the most part, thinking that maybe this was just a coping mechanism for all your failures and that Minho was the only real man to ever care about you, so of course you fell for someone like him. But that wasn’t it, was it? Minho wasn’t made to be your security blanket when all else failed. Maybe all else failed because he was the one all along. Fate always had a weird way of playing with you.

A loud thump in the back seat shook you from your thoughts.

“Sorry, he’s very heavy and I got tired,” Changbin said as he sat in the front seat.

Looking back, you saw a passed out Minho curled up on the seats.

“Jeez, that kind of night, huh?” Did you do that to him…? Was this because of last night…?

“Yeah… you wouldn’t believe the shit he was saying -”

“_____, is that you?” he asked cutely.

“Hey there,” you giggled. “How are you feeling?”

“I miss you ~”

“Huh?”

“Bro, he would not shut up the entire night! _____ this, _____ that, I was honestly so happy that he passed out on the couch because for those ten minutes, I could hear my own thoughts again. Can you two figure out whatever sexual tension you guys are having -”

“Changbin!”

“What!? I’m tired of living with you two!”

“Move out then!”

“No way, I was there first!!”

“Stop yelling,” the poor, drunk boy whined, moving up so his face was in between yours and a pouty Changbin. Minho turned to you all giggly and smiley like a kid in a candy shop and poked your cheek. “I miss you ~”

Of course you did, too. “I miss you, too, dork.”

“I have something I want to tell you.”

“What is it?”

“I’ll tell you when we get home, I’m sleepy.” And he was out like a light once more.

“What the hell…”

“Chan’s jungle juice, man. It’s magical,” Changbin tisked.

It took two small adults to carry one Minho all the way from the parking lot, to the lobby, to the elevator, and then finally to the door. You’d think with all the working out Changbin did that he could handle the unconscious boy all on his own, but Minho was very muscley… A lot more than you remembered. From supporting his back and abs and having his arm around your shoulder, you could feel every crevice of his taut muscles that you should definitely not be thinking about at a time like this. He was fine to support himself by the time the door opened, and Changbin happily let go of him to go to the bathroom, something about ‘needing to piss really bad.’

Before you could fathom that you were left alone with a loosey goosey Minho, he had already grabbed onto your hand and pulled you into his chest. His arms wrapped tightly around you so you couldn’t escape, but it wasn’t like you were going to, anyways. With his cheek resting on your forehead, you felt safe.

“I miss you ~” he repeated in his sing-songy voice.

“What are you doing?” you muffled into his chest.

“Showing and telling you how much I love you.”

“Wait, what -”

“In fact, let me show and tell the whole world!”

How Minho was able to run to the balcony and not trip and fall flat on his face was a mystery to you. The weird boy literally swung open the door and breathed in the fresh air before screaming into the night,

“I LOVE _____!”

Still inside, feet glued to where Minho first told you he sincerely loves you, you were shocked as the man you loved screamed at the top of his lungs to the city below.

“I LOVE YOU ~!” he screamed once more.

“Oh, my God.”

You sighed tiredly, though your growing smile wasn’t fooling anyone. Reluctantly, you made your way to the balcony to bring in the boy you loved before he lost his voice. After screaming a couple more times, he tuckered himself out and leaned over the edge of the railing.

“You’re going to fall!” you lectured, pulling him back up. That was a bit of a mistake on your end though, because now he used you as his means of support and coddled you tightly like you were his own personal teddy bear.

“I love you, _____,” he said perfectly like there wasn’t a drop of alcohol in his system.

“Minho, you’re drunk.”

He held you tighter. “Do you wanna hear a story? It’s called ‘The Day I Fell for You’.”

“Ok. Tell me all about it.”

“You were in art class and it was the pottery unit. You absolutely hated the mug you made, but I loved it. I told you to submit it for the art exhibit anyways. The following week at exhibition night, you won second place for the best pottery piece. When you went up to get your ribbon in front of all our other classmates and their parents, you only looked at me. You had the brightest smile on your face, and when I gave you a thumbs up, you glowed even brighter. I didn’t think that was even possible. Then when the awards were over, you ran up to me and hugged me so tight. Just like this. And my heart was beating so fast! Just like now, too. I never wanted to let you go, you know? And then when you let me keep your mug, it was all over from there.”

Ah, you remember that story perfectly, even if it was so long ago. Minho made you feel like you could fly without wings.

He hummed happily, enjoying the feeling of you in his arms. “It’s my favorite mug. I drink coffee out of it every morning.”

“I know, I’m the one who washes it…”

“_____, what do I do ~?” He broke the hug and the heart-wrenching moment to hold your face and squish your cheeks so hard your lips would pout. “What do I do ~? I love you and I want to kiss you so badly!”

“Eh!?”

“Just one kiss,” he begged, puckering his lips playfully.

“Ah, no, you weirdo!” you giggled, but you weren’t even fighting back.

“Just one, I promise.”

Before you could fake-object, his lips barely touched yours for a split second. They were soft, sent goosebumps all over your skin, and made sparks fly.

He giggled softly before leaning in again. “Ok, one more.”

“You said just one!”

“I got a taste and now I want more. This is your fault.”

“You sound like an addict.”

“Only for you, baby.”

So he kissed you once more. And again. And again. And then again for the tenth time. The eleventh time he made the kiss last a little longer. The fifteenth time was a kiss on your nose. The sixteenth, seventeenth, eighteenth, and nineteenth were for your cheeks twice. The twentieth and the last was on your forehead, making your heart flutter like a little hummingbird.

"You taste like punch and tequila,” you gagged.

“Do you like it ~?”

“No!”

“Do you like me ~?”

“Only sometimes. But I guess I love you all other times. Luckily, you probably won’t remember this in the morning.”

There’s a short silence afterwards, only the sounds of the wind blowing could be heard as Minho continued to hold you. “Loving me means you can’t get mad at me, right?”

“It means I’ll probably get mad at you more frequently. Why, what did you do…?”

“Nothing, I swear! I’m just… not as drunk as you think I am anymore…”

“Ah, so you’ll remember this in the morning…”

“Absolutely. If you rejected my screaming confession though, I would have still pretended to be drunk. Isn’t my plan so smart? I’m a genius, bro.”

“Mm, I wouldn’t say genius,” you teased.

“Whatever, you admitted you love me, that’s all that matters.”

“I only said it 'cuz you said it first. If you didn’t, I would have kept it to myself.”

“But why ~?”

“You left me this morning. I thought telling you my dream was a huge mistake and I scared you away.”

Your loving boy pressed a twenty-first kiss to your forehead. “I was scared, but not because of that. I was scared you would leave everything at that and wouldn’t think of me as anything but a friend.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“I’m an emotional man, ok.”

“I know ~” you sighed happily. The night air was crisp and cool, but Minho kept you warm, as he always did. He was always there whenever you need him. “I love you, you know that?”

Minho took a long and dramatic breath in, pressing his expanding chest to yours and you kind of regret tell him you love him because from the top of his lungs, he screamed,

“I LOVE YOU!!”

“Minho, shut up!!!”

“I LOVE YOU, _____!!”

The rest of the night until the following morning was spent with Minho’s arms wrapped tightly around you. The only time he ever let you go was when you burned the pancakes and needed his help making more.

Minho, the dorky, annoying, loving, sweet, dumbass of a friend was now YOUR dorky, annoying, loving, sweet dumbass.

He wasn’t so bad.

#lee minho #minho #lino #skz #stray kids #skz minho #skz lee know #stray kids minho #stray kids lee know #lee know #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #god i miss minho so much lmao #this was not edited :)))))))))))))))))))))sorry :)))))#i hope you like it!!! i put a lot of love in it bcuz i love lino :))))#YES IT'S FROM MY FIRST FIRST LOVE LMAO

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