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#like yeah searching out a one sentence personal post i made two months ago to reblog it and accuse me of being some kinda puritan

elainavoid · 5 months

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LN4 - Thunderstorms

Helllo lovelieesss! Seeing Lando Norris on my pinterest feed does something to me and I just want to write abt him all the time!! Anyways, with this post, you can see once again that i’m obsessed with rainy evenings even though it’s literally sunny outside in the middle of November lol. Anyways I hope you enjoy this one, love you <3

You were lying on the gray linen sofa in your living room. Snuggling with the soft blanket on you and watching some true-crime documentaries. Your home was all cozy and cute while there was a literal chaos outside. It was pouring, and you could hear the thunderstorms through the thick walls. You paused the video, and slowly walked to the kitchen area. Opening the fridge, you searched for some snacks, craving something sweet, you looked around, there was nothing sugary but a half-eaten dark chocolate bar. You sighed while closing the door. You threw yourself to the sofa, huffing in despair.

That’s when you heard a knock on the door. It was a very quiet knock, almost like the person who knocked was very shy doing that. But you were sure you heard something. Wondering who could it be, your brain went through every type of scenario. Maybe it was your downstairs neighbor? Maybe the apartment complex couldn’t carry all that rain and now there was a flood? But you would’ve known that. Walking up to the door, you asked “Who is it?” before opening. Maybe it was a serial killer dressed as a courier.

“Y/n…” His voice was breaking, “Can you open the door?” he sounded in despair, you opened the door to see Lando. His curls were soaked, the hoodie he had on was wet.

“Oh Lando.” You softly spoke, “Come on in, you are trembling.”

You invited him inside, stepping aside so he could enter your apartment. Closing the door behind him, Lando held out his arm to give you the bag. “I brought the ice-cream you liked. You know I- i thought maybe we could share it while watching something. I know we broke up three months ago but those storms really make me uncomfortable.”

You stared at his blue eyes, all of the memories you made suddenly rushing to your mind. And you remembered your first date with him...

“I hate thunderstorms.” Lando confessed. You laughed, “Really?” He shook his head while smiling. And that’s when you guys decided, you would meet at each other’s apartment whenever there was a storm, you would sit together, watch something while eating snacks.

Returning to the reality, you found Lando, waiting for an answer from you. “Yeah, we can do that.” God, who were you to refuse him when he was looking at you like that. Especially when he was in this situation. He smiled, it was a quiet way of saying thank you. “But you might need to get changed. You’re going to get cold if you don’t.” Your sentence was cut by his sneeze. “Sorry.” He mumbled, you patted his shoulder as you walked to your bedroom. Lando was following you but he stopped at the door. Not sure if it would be okay to come inside. You pulled out an oversized sweatshirt and a gray sweatpant from your wardrobe. You handed them to him, Lando looked at you, he seemed surprised. “You kept them?” You shook your head, not looking at him. But you could see he was smirking now. “Well you never came back to get them. What was I supposed to do? Throw them away? I couldn’t bring myself to do that, they hold so much memories.”

Lando didn’t reply. He just stared at the pieces of clothes that he held. “You can take a shower if you want to. I’ll be in the living room.” Before he could say anything, you walked past him and made your way to the living room. You heard the door close after a few seconds after you left him there. Walking to your kitchen counter, you pressed your kettles button to boil some water. A cup of linden tea would be great for cold. You spent some time, preparing the tea. You also opened the ice-cream package. And got two spoons from the drawer. After placing them on the wooden coffee table, you waited for Lando. You opened one of his favorite episodes from friends.

He arrived a few minutes later, looking cute in his sweater. You missed it on him. He sat on the other edge of the sofa. But as the show played, he got close to you little by little. You placed some of the blanket on him. He smiled at your actions. One of your hands and found his under the fabric. As soon as he felt your skin, your fingers interlocked. He put his head on your shoulder, mumbling a small “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” You said as your free hand ran through his half-dried curls. They were soft, just like you remembered. He smelled like coconut, because of your shampoo. After a few minutes of playing with his hair, he raised his head and looked at you. “I can get used to this again.” He spoke while drawing some circles on your hand. “I hope you do.”

#formula one #lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #formula one imagine #formula one x y/n #ln4 fluff #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #mclaren racing #lando norris x yn

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jlf23tumble · 7 months

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Hiii hope you won’t mind this ask! I just found your blog and i’ve gone over it a bit and I saw you talking about h and l not being together and it made me curious about your larry thoughts!! You can answer in the tags if you don’t want to start discourse but I hope you do answer:((!

I don’t know if you think they’ve been together in the past/never together or just don’t care about it cause scrolling through Tumblr is a nightmare and I can’t see all your posts obviously ahaha but personally I thought they were together and I think they might have broken up in the last year or so. I got a strong sixth sense in general if you could call it that and lately I can sense something is different and I can see some people feel the same but don’t really discuss it openly so I wanted to hear your opinion.

The last thing that made me ‘sure’ they were still a thing while looking at the previous 12 years was harryween with hopelessly devoted to you and then Louis quoting it at his grease fav. After that I can’t really see something that makes me think “at that point they must have been together cause otherwise it wouldn’t make sense”. And paired it up with louis in particular being a bit strange in the last few months and with what you pointed out as well namely Harry doing everything he can to not be even thought to be on tour with L… As I said I don’t know when you started talking about a break up, but do you think that halloween’s occurance was still them being together or teasing each other from a distance or maybe just keeping larries at bay? And would you mind telling me then when you think their situation changed and what you think now? Sorry it’s so longggg and thank you if you take time to answer me <3

Helllllllo, I never mind any kind of ask! Granted, sometimes I might not answer but only because I'm overwhelmed, or it's the same ask in a row, or I'm not loving a sentence, or I just don't feel like it, or I think a bathroom shot is more appropriate, lmao, but this one? I got all the time in the world for you…so much so that I'll put it under the cut, since the ask is long enough itself, as shall the answer be!

Welcome to this mess, and wow, I'm so bowled over you even tried to scroll, I know trying to search tumblr.biz is a loser's lover's game, even for the loser lover who wrote it, so I won't even bother, but we can start fresh!

So my thoughts: Hell yeah, I think these two were together back in the day, probably almost immediately (see: the entire x-factor scandale with the blinds about all the fucking, the stairs interviews, ALL OF IT, screammmm). I don't know how long or even IF they were strictly monogamous, they were in a pressure cooker situation of near-constant contact with each other for five years, but I do think it eventually morphed into something open and/or then into a messy on again/off again situationship. That’s my current stance today, in fact—c'est messy!!!!

I’ll do the usual caveat that none of us actually KNOWS them, though, or what went down, we're only looking at what we see (and hear) and making a wild guess, and yet! Plenty of people see (and hear) the same thing and opt for a crazy reach with their whole chest, all to justify something happening between teenagers 13 years ago as if NOTHING would or could have changed since then. And some of those reaches make literally no sense, or they wash away anything that gets too close to that third rail of cognitive dissonance, the proverbial fingers in ears, lalalalala. I saw it recently on a post I made about clingy Harry with a stranger on the drunk WeHo trolley, with someone in the tags going, wait, I’ve never seen this! Of course you haven’t, that’s what an echo chamber does, bb!

Personally, I don't get that mindset—what’s so wrong about learning life is tough and things change for two literal strangers? Sure, we all love love and want the best for them, but shit happens in real life, too. Maybe it's easier to latch onto made-up receipts or straight up call a blue a green, but I think a big aspect of it is also the need to be right, to show you aren’t crazy, it’s real, and that gets frequently mixed in as being “supportive,” like you're some kind of homophobe if these two break up, as if two men fucking two other men somehow isn't worthy of your “support." But I’m here to say those two things actually can exist, something can be true in the past and not be true today, and it doesn’t negate the past bit, shocking, right?

Anyway, I digress. I feel like your sixth sense is on the money, and I'd love to hear more about it, either message me here or dm me about what tips you into that direction (hey!) because I feel like there is SO MUCH THAT DOES, yet few people really get into it. To me, it’s just a lot of content, so much content, the bare minimum being lyrics in multiple songs across a shit ton of albums, both solo and the very last 1D one. At this point, to me, Larry “proofs” sound insane (he wore green pants, they're MARRIED!!!!!), and part of me is like, kudos to you, Mr. Tomlinson, jesus loves you more than you will know, etc. Even that Harryween outfit of which you speak feels like a reach of a reach, a callback of a reach, mostly because it’s also not that deep, Grease isn't some tiny film nobody's seen, it's actually a remarkably easy group costume, AND it references things that could be nostalgic to two sets of people (larries and larry). I actually feel like these two at this point are either a) signaling to each other in some kinda way, like that monitor edgeplay shit they used to do (which works if you're together or apart, I might add), or b) cashing in some of that green blue green, if you feel me. And again, both of those could be true at once, they don't cancel each other out. I have two hands, I can hold a lotta thoughts!

It’s at this point where I start bangin’ the drum for garries because gaylors have it dead easy—you can be a gaylor and think that kaylor was a thing, but it doesn’t mean it’s STILL a thing to you, so whither garries!? I just don’t think a lot of today’s larries do themselves any favors by doubling down and driving out anyone who has questions. For the big ones, there’s no room for even whispering, hey, yeah, they were together, but they might have broken up, maybe??? It’s, like, NO!!! They’re mawwwwwwied, #husbands, they’ve only fucked one person, each other, let’s jump through a hoop that says Louis wearing green sweats is so LOUD (I’m not listening to lyrics, though, lalalalalala)!! It’s tragic and frankly dumb, but if you want to wallow in the persecution complex of it all, “everybody hates us ☹ (including Louis),” I guess the option is there, the whole us vs. them of it all that I’m just personally not into.

But I do feel like there’s some hope, it’s nice to see people coming around to the idea that, yeah, they WERE together and maybe they aren’t anymore, but it’s okay, it’s not the end of the world! It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows, maybe they’ll reunite someday, or maybe it’s a goddamned hot mess, but you know what? Not my circus, not my monkeys! Granted, that part is harder for people who are mutuals with those who will not tolerate doubts even for a second—I just hope they venture off and find the other chill people, u know, the ones a lot of larries wish they saw on their dashes instead of hand-wringers, uh oh, oops, reaping = sowing.

I’m sorry, I’m ramblin’ here, let’s get back to your questions at the end of your ask! Do I think Harryween was them together or teasing each other or keeping larries at bay? Hmmmm, maybe a secret fourth thing: easy costume, easy global reference, and it’s not gonna keep larries at bay, lmao. Idk, man, for all we know (which, again, is literally nothing, nobody’s getting 24/7 content for 5 years straight anymore, such a bitter pill to swallow), maybe Grease is a fave movie of someone who’s in the new band, maybe Harry’s got a close personal friend who’s into it, too, maybe Louis's not the only guy in the world Harry’s dated who’s obsessed with Danny Zuko.

As for when do I think their situation changed, I think Eleanor was a big clue, breakup no. 1 was probably around their own breakup no. 1, she was an amazing proxy in so many ways, but I’m sure there were rifts and spats along the way (it even seeped into interviews that get written off as cute funsies or else are outright ignored because nobody watches beyond the gif format). I follow at least one person who talks about the '15 promo tour as giving very recent breakup energy, yet still has some fwb vibes, which means it's AWKWARD in spots, and I can see that. It would also explain why they were suddenly able to "sit together,” lol. Anyway, yes, that breakup (both times) was a big sign, I think no more peace ring was a HUGE sign, I think the writeups by Rob Sheffield (both of them, actually), especially the last paragraph of the Fine Line cover story was a NEON sign, and I think the last four albums by both of them spell it out, underline it, bold it, AND italicize it super clearly, but those are just the easy pickings (see also: Harry biking around daily to prove he’s not in Poland, Greece, etc., and the response is always, “We don’t know what day this was,” lmao).

What I think now is up above! I think it’s messy! Complicated! They aren’t #married! Now is that a forever thing? Who’s to say, and more importantly, who’s to really care on a “does this impacts my daily life in some kind of financial or spiritual way,” see further: circus, monkeys. I get that it’s easy to say, I interact with a lot of other people who don’t care and won't ostracize me for being a doubting Susan with my ~controversial thoughts and UOs. But there are those with faith in the future, so maybe it is as it was…hehe, oh me. I amuse myself, at least. Sorry this is an epic reply, and that it’s days late, I hope it gives you what you wanted to know! Anyone sending me garbage will get a bathroom response, peace and love.

#one direction #should i tag this larry receipts LMAO #burn that fucking fic tag to the ground

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puredramione · 3 years

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My 2020 Reading List - Dramione

This year, I’ve read way more dramione than I’ve ever read, and I’ve been reading it for 7 years now. I even read things, tropes, I had never bothered with before. 2020 may not have been a kind year, but in the dramione community it has been a wonderful year of reading for me. Please be aware I may spoil some plot lines to dramione fanfictions you haven’t read yet. I have tried not to as best as I can. But anyway below is 20 fics I’ve read this year that have been there for me when I needed them. No particular order. Just a lot of love for these fics.

Wait and Hope - by @mightbewriting - memory loss is one of my favourite tropes but this story. I have never cried over a couch before. But this story. From the moment she first awakes in St Mungo’s to that beautiful ending, I was hooked. I loved how the story left me with not really a care about whether or not Hermione got her memories back. Those bloody text messages 💔 a journey I’ll never forget.

The Unofficial Diary of an Omega - MrsRen - my first time reading anything omegaverse. It still isn’t my favourite trope. I much prefer Veela for some reason 🤷🏻‍♀️ but overall it was a good story, just not my thing.

Apple Pies and Other Amends by ToEatAPeach - I actually gave up on this story the first time I read it. Unsure as to why because the story as a whole is just amazing. Baking and dramione? Yes please! Also dealing with their psychological trauma after the war? Heck yes! The relationship in this story develops at a lovely pace. There were moments I was on edge, others I was smiling ear to ear whilst reading this. Definitely one of my favourites now.

In Search Of Sunrise - @indreamsink - actually just reread this and I still get that warm feeling in my chest. So turns out my break up hasn’t made me lose the ability to enjoy dramione falling for each other. Anyway, the story was so heartwarming, like if I were to describe it as anything I would describe it as a hug. The best non-date fic there is.

Sex and Occlumency - Graendoll - this was the start of my slippery slope into reading smut stories. Like I had read smut before, obviously but I didn’t pay it much attention, normally just swiped past 😂 but this one was a completely different story.

Manacled - @senlinyu - this is truly the most beautifully haunting story I’ve ever read. I remember when I first started reading it, I thought to myself, how the hell could I ever ship dramione in this world? Then those flashbacks. Fuck those flashback chapters were a punch in the gut. The way everything links and connects. I love it’s realistic ending. I often think of this story in the shower cause I had to force myself to go shower whilst I read this cause I honestly couldn’t put it down. And SPOILER, but I laughed so hard at a certain characters death even though I probably shouldn’t have but she was such a bitch. I get flashbacks myself of this story. I’ll be in the shower and I’ll remember a certain sentence, a certain scene in my head as if I truly walked with Hermione on this heart wrenching journey. But fuck manacled Harry, I hate that boy.

He Becomes by @abromaposts - I needed this story. This was the first thing I read after Manacled. Draco Malfoy looking after rabbits with the sole reason being to get close to Hermione, yes please. Rabbits are my favourite animals. It’s just so much fluff. And after Manacled I was grateful.

The Right Thing To Do - @lovesbitca8 - this was the bookshop, slow burn, fluffiness I needed in the summer. The start of a truly wonderful universe. Idiots in love, I’ve never went through so much second hand embarrassment. Every interaction between Hermione and Lucius was fantastic. Especially the final one! Every character was written to a way that I loved them so much. Plus this story makes you think (like the rest of the series) it doesn’t spoon fed you information.

All The Wrong Things - @lovesbitca8 - I never thought I’d be into first person POV. The last thing I read like that was The Hunger Games back in school, many years ago. But I truly felt as if Draco were telling me the story. I love how it filled in things we never seen in the first story. I love Draco’s characterisation. Unlike TRTTD, this feels more lighthearted. Could just be the horny Draco though and his dramatics?

The Auction - @lovesbitca8 - this story. where do I start? When I started reading this story I was in a completely different life. This story has seen me through a terrible time in my life. Honestly the last few chapters before the final chapter were a blur and I had to go and reread them cause my head was all over the place but the story. This story, on it’s own, I would say is better than any fiction I’ve ever read 🤷🏻‍♀️ it grips you, pulls you in. Every question you ask, you get answered with a ribbon and bow. I cannot express my love, for this story and for the hard work that has went into it. The characters in this world so vastly different yet similar to the ones we already learned to love. I could write a love letter to this story.

Hindsight by @floorcoaster - if you haven’t been following this year long, monthly updated story, then you’ve really missed out. Each chapter is a month of the year. The story starts with Hermione planning to trim down her calendar for the year ahead. Although it’s fiction it gave me a sense of hope for my future. I had started this year on a different note than Hermione, and I’m now ending it on a different note as well. I think this story does a good job of capturing the passage of time and just how quickly things can change. I also really love these adorable idiots in this story.

Bring Him To His Knees by @willhavetheirtrinkets (WIP) - the best co-worker, friends to lovers, fake relationship story I’ve read. No question. I sent @magicaltraveler3 a tearful voice memo after that last chapter that was posted (chapter 20). It isn’t the first time I’ve cried at a fanfic, but it is the first time that I predicted something bad would happen, but I didn’t expect the bad thing to be what it was. I can’t wait to see where this story goes. At this point I have completely forgot about the murder plot. I know it exists, and we’ll get back to the murder but I’d honestly read the characters in this story eating breakfast.

The Flat In Bath by @adaprix (WIP) - this was the first story I got into that ada has wrote. Instantly I was fascinated with the use of “flat” over “apartment”. Being Scottish I knew this was someone British. Anyway, a very interesting story and I can’t wait to see how the rest of it plays out.

Good by @lovesbitca8 - I am dying for the update of this story. As so many are, it is 🔥🔥🔥 all I can say. I can’t wait for the update!

The Erised Effect by @adaprix - When ada first told me she was thinking about writing a story about Pansy and Hermione working in a sex shop together. Telling me about having the idea of them meeting in the pub and how she “needed to get some filthy smut out of your system”. I didn’t think it would be my thing. Boy, did she prove me wrong!

The Cell by WrathOfMacy - I don’t know how I came to read this one. But damn, this was a good one (who am I kidding they’re all good ones). I’m still reading through it though. It’s a warfic in which Dramione end up locked in a cell together. The relationship builds nicely. I cannot wait to read more of it.

The Melody Of Touch by @magicaltraveler3 - I never knew I needed a dramione story like this story. I love that there is so much musical imagery incorporated into it. I haven’t read anything like it before. The story, the smut, the taxi and the freaking art work. It is everything!

Every Day, a Little Death by @lovesbitca8 - I’ll be honest with this one. I read the first chapter and the last chapter 🙈 BUT only cause everyone scared me so much. I plan to revisit. SPOILER. I may not care too much that Hermione cheated. Just me? Like yeah I hate cheating and she shouldn’t have done it, but like she admitted to it, and was very regretful for it. Anyway, the chapters I read were very interesting I look forward to revisiting it sometime.

Away by @indreamsink - written for the romcom fest and I got to say I think this one may be my favourite from the fest. Not only do you get dramione but you get the amazing side pairing of Harry/Pansy, which this year has really became my favourite side pairing. It’s like reading two love stories at once, I was interested in the dramione plot line obviously, but I was equally interested in the hansy/potts&pans plot line.

The Path Unexpected by @magicaltraveler3 - this story is a cute little domestic dramione fanfic. And I lived for it. It shows dramione going through the process of having a child and honestly, they’re so damn cute in this fic. The fanart is next level also!

#my 2020 reading list #personal #dramione #dhr #hermione x draco #draco and hermione #d/hr #draco x hermione #fanfiction #draco malfoy #hermione granger #hermione and draco #fanfics #dhr fanfics #2020 reads #reading list part 1 #2020 was crap but I had dramione #dramione writers are the best writers #my thoughts

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softluci · 3 years

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hello yes can i just say i l o v e d your gen z hcs and may i acquire more

for starters, i am not religious, but i am PRAYING you don’t think i was ignoring your ask. i’ve been thinking about it since i got it, it’s just that i’m a college student with worms for brains, so hopefully you understand. this is something that i’ve had on my mind for a long time [i’ve been at this on and off for months], and it most definitely can be associated with/attributed to gen z.

for a fleeting, wonderful period of time, there was a trend on tiktok that went, “buss it, buss it…” are you familiar?

that should be enough of a summary, right? ah—for future reference, “o7” is like a saluting emote, for anyone who might not know. reader is g/n as usual, enjoy!

[a/n: so because this is so long, this part is going to be, like, the lore, and then the actual headcanons will be right here]

trendy

the two things most corrosive to the human spirit are easily named—capitalism and boredom. while it would be easier and less taxing to explain the former, the latter was the problem at hand. it’s not that there was nothing to do in the devildom—quite the opposite, actually—it was just that you wanted some time to yourself every now and again. the trouble with trying to take time for yourself in a completely new location, the residents of which are always enamored with you in one way or another, is that there isn’t anything to do. the house was full of adventures for you to take—the trap door under the rug in the library, the other trap door under the dining room table, the small door behind the couch in the living room, and whatever other poorly hidden doors your seven roommates thought you didn’t know about.

trouble was, you didn’t want to leave your room. you, intelligent creature that you are, knew that the chances of you running into mammon or satan or beel or asmo were all too high, and even higher were the chances of you agreeing to spend time with them if they asked, and you knew they would. what were you to do?

you stared at your ceiling from your bed, d.d.d. resting on your stomach as you let your mind wander. your d.d.d. was full of things for you to do, the devildom’s ethernet at your fingertips, but you weren’t interested in finding new things right now. you wanted something familiar, like—like your phone.

what was the point of lucifer taking your phone, anyway? it’s not like you could use it—being here rendered it a useless brick of glass and metal, so it wouldn’t have been a big deal if you still had it. it was funny, though, that you couldn’t use your actual phone when it was still possible to access the human internet from down here.

at least, you assumed so.

how else would levi be able to keep up with his human idols, get tickets for their shows—the works, you know? luckily, you were fully capable of asking.

d.d.d. now in your hand, you rolled onto your stomach and found your messages with levi, nails clacking against the glass as you tried to reach him.

hey, you texted, can you help me with something?

his reply came faster than you expected: ?? what do you need

how do i access human websites and apps, you asked, rolling onto your side. you know how to, right?

lololol, it’s not possible :p

a grunt, more aggravated than you’d care to admit, escaped from the back of your throat.

don’t lie.

a few minutes passed with no response, and you wondered if you were too harsh.

“he’s a sensitive guy,” you mumbled, inhaling deeply. “i probably came on too strong or something.”

just as you started typing out an apology and a, “forget i ever said anything,” you got a response.

a vpn and a proxy site.

a smile crept onto your face as air came out of your nose, the closest thing to a laugh you could muster.

can you set it up for me?

after another few minutes of no response, you sit up, wondering how you could’ve possibly fucked up a second time, your d.d.d. buzzed.

levi sent you a file and a link, with a host of instructions.

click on the file and it’ll take you to the vpn you need to download. don’t worry about bugs or anything, i made it myself.

you let out a low whistle, flopping onto your back once more.

“this guy gets up to more than i thought,” you said, eyebrows raised. “someone get this man some physical affection.”

you continued to read, growing more fond of him with each sentence.

once you install it, pick the country whose network you want access to. from there, you’ll have a list of that country’s most used applications available for you. again, don’t worry about bugs.

what’s the link for? you asked, excitement getting the better of you.

for when you download internet applications. it’s added security, paste the link in before you search anything or you’ll trigger the firewall alarm.

you blinked.

you’ll trigger the what?

i’ll trigger the fucking What?

levi’s response was the fastest one yet: the Fucking Firewall Alarm. barbatos’ design. he has no idea i know how to bypass it. just do what i said. don’t try to solve any potential issues on your own, come to me for everything.

roger that o7, you replied, thanks levi ^_^

yeah, yeah. come to my room for a hxh binge tomorrow night.

you snorted. what a fucking nerd—in the greatest way possible.

of course bestie :] ily

ily2 normie -_-

in his room, unbeknownst to you, levi felt like he made a mistake of some kind. it’s not that he didn’t trust you, it’s just that you had a tendency to end up in undesirable situations, even if it wasn’t always on purpose. he was probably just worried over nothing, or so he tried to tell himself, but whatever. this isn’t even about him.

you sat up once more, this time leaning against your pillows as you started setting everything up. everything went so quickly that you barely wondered if all of this—subverting hell’s firewall, personally designed by a man eerily similar to a 2D crush from when you were in middle school—was worth accessing a few silly apps from the human world.

a few minutes later, your d.d.d. now a much, much cooler copy of your phone, any and all thoughts of regret and hesitation were absent from your mind.

your first order of business on your upgraded d.d.d. was logging into your tiktok account, however surprising it was that you even remembered the password. you put your headphones in and adjusted your volume, going back into the dumpster fire that is your for-you page with open arms.

after around half an hour of stifled laughter and small, offended gasps from being targeted by the algorithm, you came across a rare dancing video. the person on your screen was in casual clothes, making minor, silly dance movements as the music dwindled, only for them to drop into a squat in time with the music, suddenly dolled up. you shot forward, taken aback by their transformation and by their dancing post beat drop. did you watch it on a loop for a few minutes? well, that’s nobody’s business but yours. you clicked on the sound in hopes of finding similar videos, and much to your relief, there were plenty. about ten videos in, a smile still on your face, you got an idea.

you slipped your headphones out, arbitrarily looking around your room, before whispering to yourself, “i could—i could do that. i could totally do that.”

and you were right. you had nice clothes and makeup from various shopping occasions with asmo. your room had led strips, courtesy of levi ordering the wrong ones and being so kind as to give them to you. you could do it.

levi was the only person you’d spoken to since you retreated to your room a few hours ago, and the lights have been off the entire time, which meant that if you worked quietly enough, everyone else had reason enough to assume you were asleep. good! how could you possibly explain what you were doing getting all dolled up at, like, 11:00 on a wednesday night? you couldn’t, even a little bit—not in a way that convinced anyone, anyway.

come midnight, you were sitting cross legged on your bed, watching your final product. not to be vain or anything, but you were looking very respectfully at yourself. since when could you move like that, anyway? the wonders of being alone, you supposed.

you didn’t post it publicly, electing to save it as a draft just so it would save to your d.d.d. maybe you’d post it once you were back in the human world, when your friends wouldn’t swarm your comments asking where the fuck you were.

yeah, lucifer told you, “everything was taken care of,” but regardless of whether or not you believed him, you knew it wasn’t a good idea to risk finding out if he missed something.

boredom creeping up on you again, you elected to go through the messages on your d.d.d. it would be better to make yourself laugh before you were fully bored again, right? you stood up and stretched, opening the group text with the adults. luke doesn’t know about it; he thinks the one with everyone is the main one, and everyone lets him think that so he feels included.

walking around your room in small circles, you scrolled up to the older conversations and read through them, rolling your eyes and chuckling to yourself. very rarely did they talk about anything of importance. it was mostly diavolo, barbatos, and simeon making quips and jokes at lucifer’s expense for everyone to see. it was gold in its purest form.

you contemplated sending one of the many cursed things sitting in your camera roll, just to keep them on their toes, but just after opening your gallery, you resigned not to, figuring it would be best to leave him alone.

you stretched again, the hold on your d.d.d. a bit looser this time. it nearly slipped out of your hands, but you caught it, tossing it onto your bed. as soon as you resigned to start getting ready for bed, you turned back around and picked it up.

there was no rhyme or reason to your actions; if someone in that moment were to ask you why you did it, you would’ve said, “just ‘cause.”

human intuition is a wonderful thing.

your d.d.d. was still on, still open to the group chat. you’d sent something, evidently a second ago, as indicated by the time stamp. the thumbnail was of you, in casual clothing—the casual clothing you were wearing before you got dolled up, actually. huh.

huh.

the weight of your mistake came crashing down on you in full force, a chill sinking into your skin and running up your spine.

you were suddenly acutely aware of the concept of time, how it was of the essence and you had absolutely none to waste.

what were you to do? it wouldn’t be long before your favorite person saw it. you had to do something.

you could say nothing. you could tell the truth and say it was an accident and that you were embarrassed, but that was even worse than saying nothing because it meant you were set to be the target of teasing you didn’t even wanna try to imagine. you could say it was an accident and be confident about it, telling them, “enjoy!” but that was a dangerous game to play, and you knew it.

well, i do admire you for taking time to think, but, unfortunately, there was a checkmark next to your message. oh, a number as well—eleven. you just can’t catch a break. what were they all doing up at this time, anyway? it was a school night🤨.

#FUCK #this took FOREVER im so glad im done #one day i'm gonna know how to write consistently i promise #i hope u enjoy!#obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me!#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me beel #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor

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guardianofrivendell · 3 years

Text

Stranger Danger

Modern!Kíli x reader

Requested: Yes! @roosliefje asked "Can you maybe write a modern Kíli story, with you being friends but there might be something more?”

Warnings: nothing much, miscommunication maybe and oh yeah... an unwanted guest! I feel like this trope has been used a lot but who cares :)

A/N: Oh my God, @roosliefje I am SO SORRY! You requested this months ago and I seriously thought I posted it, I had this written for you and everything. It was when I was editing my masterlist that a little voice in my head asked where the ‘unwanted guest’ fic was... So here you go! I didn’t check it - might do that later - and it’s probably not as well written as my current work (oh look at me being modest) because I wrote this in september (I like to think I grew a lot as a writer since then)

Kíli sighed while wiping the sweat of his forehead with the hem of his shirt.

He really needed to clean his apartment more often, so he wouldn’t have this much work when he finally did it. He groaned, realizing he sounded just like his brother. And no, that wasn’t a good thing.

Of course, he hadn’t done this just because he felt like cleaning. No, Kíli wasn’t that responsible. If he did something, it was because he had a good reason. And that reason happened to be you, the friend he might have had a little crush on. A tiny little, barely existing one.

You had made countless remarks about the state of his apartment and how messy he was. But what can he say? Kíli just wasn’t the domestic type. He could live perfectly fine and content between piles of laundry and dirty dishes. Why wash a shirt or clean a plate when you still had other shirts and plates left to use?

But since you were that type of person that had everything in its place and cleaned almost every day, he was willing to do a little more effort. Maybe that way you would visit him more often...

He tossed his dirty shirt into the laundry basket - See? He could do this! - and walked to his bathroom to take a well-deserved shower.

When he turned on the water, he heard his phone ping. Realizing he had left it on the dinner table, he shrugged his shoulders and stepped into the shower. It probably was his brother Fíli. It could wait until after his shower.

When he walked into the living room ten minutes later, rubbing his wet hair with a towel and wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants, he heard his phone ping again.

He unlocked the screen and saw 4 messages and one missed call from you, the tone of every message growing more desperate.

9:23 pm – Kee, are you home?

9:24 pm – Could you come over?

9:27 pm – PLEASE COME OVER

9:30 pm – You have 1 missed call from Y/N

9:32 pm – HELP!

He immediately dialed your number.

Please be okay, please be okay, he thought while hearing the familiar beeping. He cursed heavily when it turned on voicemail.

He dialed your number again and sprinted to his bedroom to get dressed. He put his phone on speaker and tossed it on his bed, so he could dig through his drawers in search of a clean shirt.

To his relief, you answered this time. Great, he thought, at least you weren’t dead. But what he heard, didn’t put his mind at ease. On the contrary…

“Kíli?”

“Y/N? Oh thank God, are you okay? What’s wrong?” he asked while pulling his shirt over his head.

“Shhh! Stop yelling, he might hear you,” you whispered.

He? He grabbed his phone and held it to his ear.

“Is there someone with you? Is it your ex?” he whispered, the color slowly draining from his face at the thought of you being alone with your aggressive ex.

“He came out of nowhere! I thought I knocked him out with my frying pan but a couple of minutes later he was gone. He’s somewhere here, but I don’t know where. I’m scared, Kee!”

Your voice broke in the last sentence and so did Kíli.

“I’m on my way,” he said, determined to end whoever had the guts to break into your apartment and scare you to death.

Sure, it would’ve been smart if he had alerted the police or even his brother Fíli instead, but that thought didn’t even cross Kíli’s mind.

Kíli halted mid-step when it hit him. You called him.

You were in danger and the first one you called was him. His chest swelled at the thought. You called him for help and he was going to be your knight in shining armor.

He ran through the streets and reached your building in record time. Taking the stairs two at a time he bolted to the second floor.

He stood in front of your door, panting like crazy. From inside the apartment he could hear shouting and the clattering of kitchenware being thrown around. He took the plate with the house number and turned it sideways, so he could take the spare key out of the hole in the wall. He’d made fun of you when you had shown him your hiding spot, but now he praised whoever was in charge up there that you had.

When he entered the apartment, he closed the door and quickly scanned the hallway and living room. You were in your kitchen, he could hear your yelling.

“Take this!”

The sound of a plate being thrown to the ground echoed through the apartment.

“GET AWAY FROM ME!”

A chair fell over, and Kíli could hear you whimpering in fear. He looked around for something he could use as a weapon. Grabbing a small bronze statue, he silently walked towards the open kitchen door.

“Get away from her!” he yelled, raising the statue above his head, ready to throw it at whoever was threatening you.

He widened his eyes at the sight before him.

Several chairs were toppled over, there were shards scattered over the floor together with some various kitchen items you’d clearly used as ammo. And then there was you, crouched down on your kitchen table.

But to his surprise you were alone.

“Kíli? Oh thank God you’re here,” you sighed in relief.

He lowered the statue, slowly walking towards the table.

“Where did he go?” he asked you, still clutching the statue. You pointed towards your stove.

“There!”

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “Come again?”

At that moment, a huge wolf spider crawled from underneath the stove and made his way to the kitchen door.

You screamed. “Kill it! KILL IT!”

When Kíli realized you were talking about a spider all along, he roared with laughter.

“Don’t you dare laugh at me, Kíli! Please just kill the damn thi-aaaaaah!”

You screamed again when the wolf spider decided to go in the direction of the kitchen table. Kíli took a glass out of the cupboard and used it to catch the spider. He went to the living room and took a magazine, shoved it under the glass and took the spider outside to set it free.

When he returned to the kitchen, he took your hand and helped you get off the table, his signature grin still plastered on his face.

“It’s gone now, you’re safe,” he smirked.

“Don’t look at me like that. You’ve seen it yourself, he was huge!”

“First of all, it’s an ‘it’, not a ‘he’-”

“You don’t know that,” you interrupted him.

“Let me finish,” he continued, picking up the chairs and he pushed at your shoulders to make you sit down. “Secondly, don’t you ever scare me like that again okay?”

“Scare you? I thought I was the one being scared?”

“I thought your ex or some other criminal had broken into your home. You really made it sound like that, Y/N…” Kíli rubbed his face with his hands. “God, I was so worried.”

“You were worried about me?” you repeated, eyes wide.

“Of course I was, you’re my friend aren’t you?” Kíli noticed your cheeks flush. You looked adorable.

“Yeah… friends. Of course!” you murmured softly.

“Friends come to each other’s rescue,” he smiled, flexing his muscles.

“Ah yes, my knight in shining armor… but without the armor.” You rolled your eyes. “So, since you came all the way here and acted all heroic, I need to thank you with… pizza?”

“Only if we’re watching a movie. My choice!”

“Deal!” You got up from your chair and ordered two pizzas.

When you sat together on the couch half an hour later, with your pizza between you, you leaned towards Kíli and gave him a quick kiss on his cheek.

Kíli immediately went red, his hand brushing over the spot where you kissed him.

“What was that for?”

Not that he complained, but he didn’t want to read too much into it.

“Saving me,” you answered, eyes locked on the tv screen.

“Anytime Y/N…” He rubbed his cheek softly, the place where you kissed him still tingling. “Anytime…”

Kíli taglist: @elles-writing

Permanent taglist: @roosliefje @kata1803 @entishramblings @artsywaterlily @sleepy-daydream-in-a-rose @marvelschriss @kumqu4t @myrin1234 @dark-angel-is-back @the-fandoms-georgie @lathalea @xxbyimm @sokkasdarling @katethewriter

#kili x reader #kili #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit #the hobbit imagine #the hobbit fanfiction #kili imagine #kili oneshot #kili the dwarf #modern!kili #aidan turner

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nathanknowsitall · 3 years

Text

Dedicated

Summary: Harry asks what your favorite song off of Fine Line is.

Notes: This is set in December 2019, post-Fine Line release. Happy one year of Fine Line! Hope you enjoy! <3

“Harry, your album is just absolutely perfect! I’m a little bit jealous that we didn’t get to listen to it sooner honestly...”, your friend said, teasing.

Your couple friends had invited you and Harry to go on a double date to celebrate Harry’s album coming out. After you had gone out to dinner, you both were hanging out at their house and drinking wine as the vinyl edition of Fine Line played in the background.

Harry was extremely embarrassed about the whole thing, from the way that most of the conversation at dinner had been about him to the fact that you had cheered drinks “to the wonderful Harry Edward Styles” to the way that Fine Line was playing in the background right now.

His blush was faint as he thanked your friend for the compliment while sipping on his wine glass. You rubbed his leg as you made eye contact with him, making sure that he was alright. He smiled back at you, mouthing “I’m fine” as he winked at you.

“But you got to listen to it early, right, Y/N?”, your friend said. You nodded as you made eye contact with Harry again.

“Yeah, I did...It’s so special, H”, you elaborated as you touched Harry’s face for a second, just selfishly needing the intimacy. His eyes filled with warmth and surprise at your praise. He hadn’t known that you had listened to it early or at all but hearing the praise from your lips was divine.

“Aww...that’s so sweet. You guys are awfully in love”, your friend joked at the PDA.

“Yeah, when are you getting married? We could both be married couples then!”, her husband joked.

Both you and Harry had that wide eyed, deer caught in the headlights look as you looked at them. A little bit of wine had even spilled out of Harry’s mouth and onto his linen shirt.

Your friends hysterically started laughing at you two, making you and Harry laugh as well.��

“Well, I think we got that one answered!”, your friend joked as she went to go get something for Harry’s shirt in the kitchen.

“We sure did!”, her husband added, as he stood up. “Who wants some dessert?”, he offered.

“Yes!”, you and Harry both said at the same time, making each other laugh as you walked into their kitchen hand in hand.

After you said goodbye to your friends, you and Harry walked to the car hand in hand, happy as can be.

As Harry drove you back to his house, you couldn’t help but admire him. He was such a talented person and yet he was still so humble about all of his success, blushing about it whenever anyone even mentioned it. He made a point of being kind to everyone he met even when they weren’t so kind to him. He never made anyone in his life feel neglected despite being a famous rockstar. He was so open to learning from others in order to become a better person that it was inspiring. You could think of a million reasons why you loved his personality before you would even think to mention his looks, even though he was the most beautiful person ever.

He made sure you felt equal to him in all respects. He respected your boundaries and you respected his. He never pressured you to change for him. He never made you feel bad about yourself, no matter how bad you were fighting. He never made you feel like he was embarrassed of you, no matter how awkwardly you acted in front of his famous friends or when you couldn’t get a full sentence out when meeting his mom for the first time. He made you feel admired emotionally, spiritually, intellectually, sexually, in every way.

As you got out of the car and into his house, your thoughts wandered back to the conversation you had earlier with your friends. You knew it was too early to consider marriage, you had only been dating for a couple of months, but you were sure that Harry was the love of your life. Even if you never got married or even broke up, you knew there was always some part of yourself that would be dedicated to Harry.

As you wandered outside into the backyard, you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking about Harry and what a future with him would look like.

After a while, you felt two arms come up from around you and a head sit on your shoulder.

“You’ve been quiet all night, love. What’s happening in here?”, he said as he kissed your temple. You felt yourself blush at the thought of telling Harry about how you were thinking about what a wonderful father he’d be.

“I’ll tell you later, but I need to know about you right now. Are you okay? I know that it was...a lot for you tonight...”, you said, as Harry lightly giggled.

“I’m okay, baby...it’s was just...a bit much”, he said honestly. You nodded then laid your head on his chest, swaying slightly. This was something that you had learned was comforting for him.

“But also...I’ve been thinking about what you said about the album...”, Harry said.

You pulled apart from him, looking at him in the eyes, curious about what he meant.

“I meant what I said, Harry. I absolutely I love it”. Harry seemed embarrassed but satisfied as he smirked at you.

“Oh, so you’re a fan?”, Harry cockily said as he winked at you, making you suddenly feel very shy as you looked down and buried your face in his chest.

Harry must’ve known that you listened to his music, but you had never really discussed it in depth with each other. You had never really admitted that you were a fan of his.

You never told him that when you cleaned, his music filled your house. You never told him that his music was prevalent throughout your playlists. You never told him that you had bought his albums despite the fact that you knew Harry would get them for you for free. You never told him that you had cried, laughed, and sang loudly to his songs in your free time.

“And so what if I am?”, you said, teasingly, challenging Harry. You lifted your head from his chest and looked into his eyes. They seemed to be searching your eyes, looking for some trick or joke in them. You just stared at his, admiring as his pupils dilated.

“If you’re such a fan, you must have a favorite song...”, Harry teased.

“Well...I have a lot of favorites...”, you teased back.

“How about from your first listen?”, he specified. “The early listen you got? Hmm? What was a standout for you?”, he teased.

You hid your head in his shoulder, embarrassed about how you basically jumped at the opportunity when Jeff offered to let you have a listen. You could tell that Harry wasn’t mad or angry or had any hard feelings about it, but you also knew that Harry would probably never let it go if he knew what a fan of him you were.

“Umm...I liked Cherry a lot...”, you whispered into his ear. You could hear his breath hitch and you started to rub his back, trying not to freak him out.

“You don’t feel weird knowing that it’s about my ex?”, he whispered.

You immediately shook your head, “Never Harry. I never would be.”

You heard him audibly let out a sigh. You giggled a bit as you separated from him, holding his hands instead as you looked at him.

“It’s just such a beautiful song about love and exes and loving too hard and heartbreak and seeing them with a new person and-It’s so good Harry”, you said as you looked at where your hands were linked.

“You don’t think it’s pathetic?”, he asked shyly.

“Isn’t that the point of it?”, you said as you raised your head up to see him. He still had his head down, looking guilty and embarrassed. You came up to him and hugged him, placing your head on his shoulder.

“I love you so, so, so unbelievably much Harry. I don’t care if every song you release is about someone else, as long as I know that you’re as in love with me as I am with you right now.”

Harry pushed you softly off of him and you looked into his red-rimmed eyes.

“I am so in love with you, Y/N. You make every day of my life better. You make me feel so comfortable and loved and special even when I come home from work late and complain about things that are so stupid and petty you still listen. I love when we get to spend the night together and you lay on my chest while we watch romcoms. I love when you let me take care of you when you come home from work and let me make dinner and make a bath for you. I love you so much I can’t believe that we only met a few months ago and-I was going to save this for our one year anniversary, but I can’t wait any longer-will you marry me, Y/F/N Y/M/N Y/L/N?”. He said as went down on one knee, slipped a red velvet box out of his jacket, and opened it to reveal a gorgeous ring.

You felt your heart beat so fast as you put your hands over your mouth. He looked expectantly up at you, eyes watery, yours probably no better. You swallowed hard, finally letting out a small “Yes.”

#harry styles x reader #harry x reader #harry styles/reader #harry/reader #tina writes #peterspeachy writes #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry fan fiction #harry fan fic #harry fanfic #harry fic #harry styles #one year of fine line #dedicated

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night-fallz · 3 years

Text

Jason Todd x Avengers Crossover

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Ao3 // Wattpad

previous II next

Unexpected (part 2)

Two days have passed since Clint was saved by Jason. And for some reason, he still can't get the vigilante out of his mind.

Natasha teased him about it but he knows that if she sees Jason in action, she would be intrigued as well.

The way he fought was mesmerizing. Every bullet that was shot was so precisely aimed that the wounds weren't deadly.

Sure it knocked them out, but they weren't gonna die.

That form of marksmanship was only earned through years of hard work. And Clint's worked with Bucky enough times to know that Jason somehow predicted the next move of the attackers, aiming at the non-lethal body parts.

He has a feeling that Bucky and Jason would make an incredible duo.

Which is why he needs them to meet.

Clint doesn't usually do this but the more he thought about the bucket-wearing vigilante, the higher his list of questions got.

He took out his phone, leaning against the couch as he searched for the man that saved him.

vigilante wearing red bucket

He scrolled through google trying to find a decent article on the guy.

After thirty whole minutes of barely finding information, Clint wanted to throw his phone across the room. So far, all he's figured out was that Jason's territory was in Gotham and that his vigilante name is 'Red Hood'.

Which was... creative in a way?

At least it wasn't 'Red Bucket' or 'Bucket Head' or anything like that. It was definitely better than 'Green Arrow'.

After another failed search, he decided to finally give up. There was nothing about Red Hood. All the articles were mainly about Batman, Nightwing, a restaurant place, and a Robin!

He groaned and put his face in his hands. He doesn't care about those overrated heroes, he wants to find out more about Red Hood.

The guy was so cool... he wonders why there were barely any pieces written about him. The few sentences that he's read about the vigilante almost always depicted him in a bad light.

Which was honestly unfair.

He stared at his phone, contemplating on whether or not he should ask Natasha.

On the positive side, he knows that the assassin would have information on Red Hood. Natasha has information on everyone.

But...

Clint didn't want Natasha to tease him even more! If she keeps up with the sarcastic comments then the other Avengers would be curious. And curious Avengers meant nosy people.

He felt himself shiver, really nosy people.

He swears that if he had a sister— older or younger, they would act exactly like how Natasha was acting right now.

He could practically imagine the smirk she was wearing on her face when she picked up.

"Hey, Clint." she casually greeted, "How are you?"

He refrained from gritting his teeth, "I'm doing good." he paused, eyes closing as he took a breath in, this hurt to admit. "I need your help."

"I know."

"What do you know about the Red Hood?"

"The Red Hood?" she hummed under her breath, "Let's see."

Clint heard her moving things around, then he could distinctly hear the noise of paper being flipped. "Do you just have documents of random vigilantes lying around your room?" he couldn't help but ask. "Is this an assassin thing?"

Does Bucky do this too?

"I'm getting you the information you need." she reminded, "How I keep track of the data I have is none of your business."

"Okay, okay." he surrendered, a smile making its way onto his face. "But why don't you just keep it on a computer? Wouldn't that make things easier for you?"

She ignored his question, "Red Hood is an excellent marksman," she stated. "He made his debut as a crime lord by showing a bunch of people a duffel bag filled with the heads of notorious criminals."

Clint let out a whistle, "That is an intense introduction. He's even better than I thought he would be."

"Yeah," Natasha agreed. "He's easily one of the most dangerous and capable vigilantes in Gotham. In a matter of months, he's managed to bring crime down Crime Alley by at least fifty percent. Something that Batman himself, couldn't do. His methods were vicious, but they worked. Extremely well. He's killed a lot of child molesters, human traffickers, and rapists."

Even though Natasha couldn't see him, he tilted his head to the side, biting the inside of his cheek. Clint could care less about what methods Jason used. If they worked, they worked. And it's not like those criminals didn't deserve it. It's just-

Killing takes a lot out of you. Especially when you're young. Clint would know.

He had no doubt in his head that Jason was an incredible fighter. Not to mention that he was also huge— in both height and muscle.

He can see why he has a majority of Gotham fooled.

But, for about a minute, after they won against the ninjas, Jason removed his helmet in order to get a breath of fresh air.

A mask might've been covering his eyes, but Clint's been in the vigilante business for years now. He remembers clear as day, just how young the vigilante looked under the sun.

When Clint first started, he was thankful that he had Natasha to talk to whenever things got hard. Whenever he felt guilty for taking someone's life. No matter how much they deserved it.

Hell, he's still thankful for Natasha now. Without her, Clint would probably be dead. His body found bleeding out in an abandoned area, a neat row of scars on his thighs and arms.

He hopes that Jason has a friend like Natasha. Someone who'd be there for him no matter what. Someone who'd remind him that he was worth it. That he was loved.

Cause if not, then there is no way that the kid is okay.

Natasha's sharp voice interrupted his thoughts, "That was a few years ago. As far as I know, he doesn't kill anymore. The farthest that Hood would go now would be to permanently cripple someone. And even then, he would only do that when the person did something unforgivable."

After a few seconds of silence, Clint opened his mouth. "Is that it?" he couldn't help but question.

"Nope," Natasha admitted. "But it's all I'm willing to tell you."

"Fine then," he smirked. "Keep your assassiny secrets. I got more than I expected anyways."

"What did you get yourself into, Clint? Why all the sudden interest in him? Why all the sudden interest in a vigilante in Gotham?"

He knows that Natasha was just looking out for him. She was worried. "Do you remember a few days ago when I was saved by this Jason guy?" he asked.

"Yeah? You've been talking about him nonstop. He saved your ass and you gave him your number." she paused before adding, "Your private one."

He nodded, "Yeah. Well, he's the Red Hood."

"You're kidding."

"Nope. I searched him up and he had the same costume and everything."

"And he actually said that his name was Jason?"

"Yep." he tried to casually say, "It's probably cause Jason's a popular name and stuff."

"Maybe." Natasha hesitantly agreed, "But anyway, since you gave him your number, I think you should know that I've always wanted to meet him so if he texts you soon..."

Her voice trailed off and Clint couldn't hold in his sigh, "Yeah, yeah. I'll arrange a meet-up or whatever."

Her voice automatically brightened, "Actually?"

The corner of his mouth lifted, "Sure. But I wanted to introduce him to Bucky first."

Natasha made a shocked sound of betrayal, "Wha- but Clint!" she whined, "I'm the one who's asking. Not him."

"I know."

It took everything in him to stop the laugh from escaping his mouth.

Complaints about how unfair Clint was being made their way onto his ears and he relished each and every one of them. It wasn't often that he had something Natasha wanted.

Revenge was sweet.

After a few minutes, he let out an incredibly fake gasp. "Sorry, Natasha. I gotta go. I have a kitchen emergency."

"What the fuck, Clint." she demanded, "You don't even know how to cook. Remember the omelet incident? What emerg-"

He hung up.

Clint's definitely going to regret ending the call later. He knows it.

But right now, he could care less.

He has something Natasha wants, so she won't murder him.

... hopefully.

He hopes that he runs into the vigilante soon. Jason was cool and pretty fun to talk to. Clint definitely won't mind fighting at Red Hood's side once more.

They worked really well together.

While they were fighting, he knew that Jason was gonna have his back. He knew that Jason wasn't gonna let him get hurt. It was weird, considering that was the first encounter he's ever had with him.

He doesn't know when Jason is gonna decide to use his number, but he hopes that it'll be soon.

He has questions. And whenever Jason was ready, Clint hopes that he can answer.

Starting with the one that's been clouding his head; why did the Red Hood stop killing?

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notes:

okay, I didn’t expect to write a chapter this soon. but reading all the comments you guys left on the previous chapter motivated me. to be honest, I didn’t expect this fanfic to get as many hits as it did.

I don’t know when I’m planning on posting this chapter but right now, my goal is to write as much as I can.

I also don’t know exactly how busy my sophomore year of high school will be, but I feel like it’s better to be safe than sorry. Especially if I make the school volleyball team.

I finished writing this chapter on August 8th, and I have tryouts on the 9th through the 11th from 4-6 pm. (wish me luck!)

like always, please, please, please, leave a comment. i love reading them and they just motivate me so much! Whenever I get author’s block, I just re-read them and they help so, so much. If you don’t wanna leave a comment, that’s fine. If you liked this fanfic, please hit that kudos button though.

and if you just wanna chat or if you want to request any ideas or prompts, just message me here.

ooh, and if there’s anything specific you want to read in this series, please tell me. It never hurts to have any extra ideas. plus, I really want to make this fic more enjoyable for everyone.

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jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets · 3 years

Text

I Loved Him... Once - CH 2

Title: I Loved Him… Once

Author: jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Heid (Aaron Hotchner x Spencer Reid)

Rating: This ones General but eventually as the series goes it will be Explicit

Tags: canon typical violence and gore, eventual smut as the series goes, angst, fluff, pining., its gunna be a slow burn guys.

Summary: A series following the team as they solve crimes and take down the bad guys.

In Part one of this series, we follow the team as they take down a serial killer that has taken a piece of one of their own. And through it all, Spencer and Hotch come to a few conclusions and realizations of their own.

AO3 Link

Masterlist

*** My works are not to be posted on any sites without my permission! But comments and reblogs are love! <3 Please and thanks!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter two

"Mommy, Mommy! Are you watching me?!"

"I see you, Honey! That's very good!"

"Watch again!"

JJ smiled as she sat in the folding lawn chair, the legs slowly sinking down into the soft sand, a smile gracing her face as she watched her son swimming in the lake. A hand came from her side to rest over hers on the arm of her chair, entwining their fingers together, and she turned to smile over at her husband.

"I can't believe we've actually had five full vacation days without an emergency call in."

"Me neither," Will smiled back as he brought her hand up to his mouth to kiss it, "it's nice to have some family time, no work, no cases, just you, me, and Henry."

She hummed her agreement, then added, "We'll have to send your Aunt some flowers when we get back, thank her for letting us use the trailer this week."

"Yeah, she'll like that."

They sat in comfortable silence, watching Henry splash around, blissfully happy to just be together and free of the burdens of their heavy jobs.

The sun was starting to set, the air around them beginning to chill, so JJ turned over and pressed a quick kiss to Will's lips before standing and calling out, "Henry, come on out now!"

"Ok!"

He ran out of the water towards his mom who was waiting to wrap him up tight in his favourite Captain America towel. She lifted him and held him close, pecking his cold wet cheek with a smack making him giggle. "What do you say we change into our pjs while Daddy starts a fire, and then we make smores!"

"Yeah!" The boy shouted, throwing his arms in the air.

JJ laughed as he just missed smacking her in the face, and Will joined them after packing up the chairs and Henry's water Toys. He walked with his hand on the small of JJ's back as they headed back to the trailer, Henry extremely excited about smores.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Day six of Spencer's lecture series and he had finally made it to the lecture he was most anticipating. ‘Synthetic Metals: A Novel Role For Organic Polymers’ presented by Dr. Alan G. MacDiarmid, and he honestly hadn't known himself to ever be more excited then he was right now.

He arrived at the venue early, was the first person in line to enter the auditorium, and found himself a seat front and center. It wasn't long before the doctor was standing at the podium, instantly diving deep into the bones of the lecture, and Spencer couldn't believe he was finally here. Dr. MacDiarmid was enthralling. He captivated the attention of everyone in the auditorium, including spencer. And even though the topic of the lecture was something Spencer had been very interested in learning more about, and nothing against the amazing Dr. Macdiarmid, but about halfway through the lecture Spencer found his mind beginning to wander to other things.

It was about the thirty minute mark of the lecture, and the doctor was talking about what he and his team had been working on over the past few years regarding the emerging potential technological applications of synthetic metals, beginning with the topic of spun polyaniline fibers and their applications to the future of nanotechnologies, when Spencer really found his concentration moving on to other things. Suddenly he was brought back to his brief conversation with Aaron in the bullpen before he left. His eidetic memory replaying the entire scene perfectly, right down to every twitch and shift in Aaron’s face, and every slight change in his demeanor while they spoke. Even the falter in his words before wishing him a good night before leaving the bureau. It wasn't like his steadfast boss to hesitate like that, his words and movements were always so sure, so he couldn't help it if he wondered if there was maybe something more behind the awkward exchange between him and Aaron.

And in relation to those thoughts, he was also reminded of his conversations with Emily and Derek earlier that night. Were they right? Was he too uptight? Should he take their advice and have some fun for once, relax? Let his brain shut off and as Derek had so gracefully put it, take advantage of their time off to enjoy ‘a little sand, a little sun, and a whole lotta’ fun’? Maybe it would be good for him to spend a day doing something that didn't involve endlessly shoving knowledge down his throat, just doing nothing. And on that note he wondered if maybe… maybe Aaron would like to spend a day doing nothing with him…

Suddenly, in an instant Spencer was on his feet, standing stock still in the middle of the auditorium. Dr. MacDiarmid stopped mid-sentence, staring at Spencer with concern along with the rest of the guests in their seats. When he didn't move or make a sound for a good few minutes, the doctor slowly moved from behind the podium to approach Spencer with caution asking, “Sir, are you alright? Do you need anything?”

Spencer turned towards the doctor but didn't look at him. His eyes remained fixed on the floor in front of him, almost as if they were searching for the answer to his unasked question. His brows furrowed as his brain continued rapidly searching through every memory of him and Aaron, every encounter, every conversation, every look between them, and suddenly… he was pretty sure he had found his answer. A moment of pure enlightenment.

“Son…” The doctor took a few more steps closer, placing a gentle hand on Spencer's shoulder, “Son, are you alright?”

“I…” He finally looked up from the ground, his thoughtful expression turning to one of elation, of contentment, a smile slowly creeping across his face as he answered, “I have to go.”

“I… Son?” The doctor called after him, but Spencer was already gone. He slung his book bag over his shoulder as he took the stairs out of the auditorium three at a time and burst out the doors.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Aaron was just about at the end of his patience. He had spent the first two days of his vacation on the phone with Haley fighting to get time with Jack while he was off, and now on day two he was at the point of practically begging.

“Haley, please. I have fourteen days off but who knows how many days I'll actually get before I have to go back for a case,” he sighed into the phone, running a heavy hand down his face as he plopped down on the couch, “all I’m asking for is a few days with my son. You have him full time while I'm working, the least you could do is give me a few days.”

“He's supposed to be spending the weekend with my parents, Aaron,” she sniped back at him, not a care to the fact that Aaron hadn't seen Jack in over a month.

“He sees your parents all the time, he saw them two weeks ago. You can reschedule the visit with your parents for any time, but I never know how much time I have before getting called away. I would appreciate a few days here and there when I ask for it, without having to go through this every time.”

Silence fell over their call for a moment before he heard Haley sigh and knew he had won his case. “Fine,” she huffed, clearly annoyed, “I'll drop him off in an hour, call me in a few days when you want me to come get him.”

“Thank-you, I'll be ready for him.”

Without a good-bye or even another word, she hung up the phone.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Not two hours later there was a light knock at his door and Aaron jumped off the couch, running to open it.

“Daddy!”

“Hey, buddy!”

Jack ran through the door and jumped into Aaron’s arms, sinking his entire body into hugging his dad as tightly as he could. And Aaron gave as good as he got, squishing his son with a smile.

Haley walked in behind Jack, watching them, then making eye contact with Aaron over Jack's shoulder. “Call me when he's ready to come home.”

Aaron nodded, then gave Jack a pat on the back before lowering him to the floor and saying, “Go say bye to Mommy, Jack.”

He ran over to capture Haley in much the same way as he had hugged Aaron, whispered a goodbye and placed a kiss on her cheek. “Good-bye, my sweet boy, have fun with your Daddy, call me every night before bed, okay.”

“Okay, Mommy.”

“Alright,” she said, placing one last kiss to the top of his head before standing and heading for the door, “I'll see you in a few days.”

She closed the door behind her and Jack immediately ran back over to hug Aaron, who willingly lifted him in his arms again. “I missed you, Daddy.”

“I missed you too, buddy, I always miss you when you're not here.”

“I know.”

Hotch chuckled, then walked Jack over to the kitchen table and placed him in a chair before sitting across from him. He pushed the plate of snacks he’d put together before Jack got there, grabbing one of the small sandwiches for himself, before asking, “So, Jack, what do you want to do while you're here?”

He made a show of thinking about it while he picked at the sandwich he had taken from the plate, then answered, “Can we go to the park?”

“Of course, whatever you want.”

Jack nodded, taking a bite then said, “I was supposed to go to grandma and grandpas house this weekend.”

“I know, I'm sorry you couldn't visit them, buddy. I just don't know how much time off work I’ll have, or when I will be able to see you next.”

“It's okay, I'm glad I didn't have to go.”

Hotch couldn't help but smile a bit, “Why's that?”

Jack shrugged, “They never take me to the park. They just tell me to play in the backyard, but that's no fun, there's no slides in the backyard.”

He laughed, Jack was never one to hide his feelings and he loved that about his son. “Well, I promise I will take you to the park everyday while you're here with me, and you can go down the slide as much as you want.” Jack smiled at that, clearly pleased. “Is there anything else you want to do?”

He made his adorable little thinking face again, but this time came up with nothing. Obviously trips to the park was the only expectation Jack had for this visit with his dad. So Aaron made a suggestion, “How about we go to the movies tonight? And we can get take out for dinner.”

“Can it be McDonalds?!”

He was so excited he nearly jumped over the table, his mom never let him have McDonalds. “Sure, why don't you go get a sweater and we’ll head out now.”

“Yay!”

It took Jack all of two minutes to run to his room, grab a sweater from the closet, and was ready and waiting at the door before Aaron had even grabbed his shoes.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Four days, he had gotten four full days off with Jack without any interruption and it was great. Jack was all smiles, loving every minute of being with Aaron and he was much the same, enjoying every second he could get with his son. They did go to the movies their first night together, and got McDonalds for dinner as promised. Aaron knew Haley never let Jack have things like fast food, pop, or candy, so he always made sure Jack got his fill when he stayed with him.

Over their time together, Aaron had also taken him to the local science center, where Jack was all too happy to learn about space in the astronomy section. They also visited the aquarium, Jack's favourites were the sharks and Aaron had to admit they were pretty awesome, the art gallery, and not to mention daily visits to the local park by Aaron’s apartment. Which is where they found themselves now on their fourth day together, walking across the soccer field to get to the large playground.

Jack wiggled excitedly in Aaron’s arms as he walked them over, scanning the playground and desperately trying to get free when he saw his friend on the swings. “Daddy, Markus is here!”

Aaron put him on the ground and Jack was speeding off in an instant. “Stay where I can see you!”

He didn't answer before making it over to sit on the swing beside Markus, but Aaron wasn't worried, Jack knew well enough to stay exactly where his dad could keep a close eye on him. And seeing as how Jack was having a good time playing with his friends, Aaron found himself a bench close by and sat to watch. He waved to a few of the other parents sitting and doing the same as him, but was perfectly happy to just sit by himself and enjoy the peace and quiet while Jack played happily.

~~~~~~~~~~~

It was getting late, they still had dinner to make and the promise of a movie in their pj’s on the couch. He wondered if Spencer might like to join them. Wondered if maybe he should take Rossi's advice and call him, see if dinner and a movie with him and Jack was something Spencer might like to do with them. And after a few minutes of thinking about it, imagining the three of them on the couch together, tucked under the blankets with Spencer in a pair of borrowed pjs from Aaron, he decided he was going to call. When he got back home with Jack, before they ate he would do it, he would take the leap and make the call to Spencer.

The other parents were starting to round up their kids as well, and Aaron was just about to call Jack over to start heading home, when his phone rang in his pocket.

He pulled it out with the all too familiar pang in his heart that came everytime he was in this position. On vacation, with Jack, and his phone rang. And everytime he has this moment where he thinks to himself maybe it's fine, maybe it's not work, but everytime he is always thoroughly disappointed. This time is no exception.

He sighed, looking at the caller ID on his screen before answering, “Hotchner.”

“Aaron, I need you and your team to come in.”

“Erin, we’re supposed to be on a two week mandatory holiday,” he tried his best not to convey his anger through the phone, but he was sure he did not succeed. His team deserved this, needed this, and now he was going to have to break the bad news and ruin everything they had planned.

“I am aware of that, Agent Hotchner,” her no nonsense tone coming through, “but the other teams are all out in the field, and the California Police Department needs help now. You're all I've got, I have no other choice.”

“Can’t one of the other teams finish up their current case, or split up their team to at least start working the case in California?”

“I need you in the field, Aaron,” she was putting her foot down now and Aaron knew that was it, there was no fight here, “when can you get everyone back?”

He waited a beat to answer, allowing himself a second to absorb the guilt he was feeling, then answered, “We have a few members of the team out of the country right now, I can probably get everyone back and in the office tomorrow afternoon if I start making calls and arranging flights now, evening at the latest, and we will leave for California right away.”

“Great, I will see you all tomorrow.”

And with that she hung up, not even giving Aaron the chance to say anything more that might refute her orders. And god, he wished he could. He wished with everything he had that he could tell her no, that he could let his team have the vacations they deserved. The time to relax, to spend with friends, with family, doing what they wanted for their full allotted two weeks. But he knew deep down he couldn't, and he also knew that despite how angry he knew his team would be, they would never blame him for their vacations being cut short. They would always drop everything they were doing, no matter how much it hurt them to do so, because there were always people out there who needed their help, and they would always be there to help them. That's one of the reasons they were the best team the Bureau had, and one of the reasons he was endlessly proud of them.

With one last hard sigh he ran a hand down his face and called Jack over. He scooped him up and started making his way back to the car, strapping Jack in with the promise of still watching a movie of Jack's choice together after dinner.

After they ate and Aaron explained to Jack that he would have to go back to his moms the next morning, he settled Jack on the couch with popcorn and some blankets to scroll through their movie selection.

“Alright, you find a good movie for us to watch, and I'll be right back. Daddy just has to make some calls for work tomorrow.”

“Okay, I'll find a good one.”

Aaron nodded, but turned back to Jack with a last minute thought on his mind. “I'm sorry we have to cut the visit short, Jack, but I have to go in to work tomorrow, people need my help, you understand that right?”

Jack nodded, eyes fixed on the tv while he answered, “It's okay, Daddy, I know you have to catch the bad guy. I can come back when you're done work and we can watch more movies.”

Aaron smiled, so proud of his kid. “You sure can, buddy. Now you pick something good and I'll be right back.”

He ducked into the kitchen holding his phone in his hand and just staring down at it for a moment. He took a second to compose himself back into boss mode, then dialed the number that had already been pulled up, wishing with all his might that this was not the call he was having to make to Spencer right now.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Spencer burst through the door to his apartment like a man on fire. He tossed his shoulder bag aside, pulled out his phone, and looked at the time. It was a little after five, Aaron was probably at home right now, maybe eating dinner or watching tv, and more then likely with jack. So, it was now or never. One brief moment of bravery was all he needed, he could do this. He faced criminal masterminds every day, he could gather up the courage to send one text to Aaron asking him to have dinner… maybe.

He quickly typed up a message, kind of a mess of his thoughts all forced out in one big push. But thankfully he read it before sending it, ‘Hi, I was just wondering how your vacation is going? I hope it's going well. I'm assuming you have some time with Jack these two weeks, maybe you'd both like to join me for a walk in the park, or even dinner and a movie night? I was thinking we could have some fun together since I believe we are the only two remaining in town.”

His thumb hovered over the send button, but he stopped himself, erased it and tried again. ‘Hello, Aaron. I hope your vacation is going well. Mine has been adequate so far. But before our departure from the BAU, Emily and Derek informed me that I could use some fun in my life. I hadn't been aware that I was lacking in the area, but perhaps you would like to join me for some fun before we return to work?’

Again he erased it before he could bring himself to send the message, and he tried three more times after that, each one a failed attempt at asking Aaron out. And that's what he realized he was doing here, he was asking his boss on a date. It wasn't exactly something that Spencer had ever done before, always being the awkward, quiet guy who was far too shy to ever make the first move, but he found himself this time saying why not? Why not take the first leap? But every message he typed out sounded wrong, or awkward, or too formal, or not formal enough.

He stopped himself then, taking a deep calming breath before closing the text window and pulling up Aaron's phone number. Maybe it would be better to just call him, that way he couldn't overthink this as much as he was right now. He'd be forced to just jump right in.

“Yeah, let's just call him. That's… that's the best option, right.”

He nodded to himself, psyched himself up a little bit, and was about to press the call button when his phone started ringing in his hands. The caller ID coming up as none other than Aaron Hotchner, the very man he was just about to call. His heart gave a little flutter at the idea that Aaron was calling him, maybe even for the same reason he was going to be calling him for. Maybe Aaron wanted this as much as he did, and he just hadn't seen it. The thought sent a jolt of electricity through him as he answered.

“Hotch, hey, I was just about to call you-”

“I'm sorry, Reid,” he stopped him short, “but whatever it was you had planned this week, is there any way you can cancel or rearrange? We need everyone back in the office no later than tomorrow evening.”

“I…” He sighed, trying not to let his disappointment flow through the call. So he cleared his throat and tried to answer professionally. “Yeah, yeah, sure I can be there.”

“Good, can you meet us at the office tomorrow evening, everyone should be back by then?”

“Absolutely.”

“Thanks, Reid, and I'm sorry to have to cut your vacation short.”

“No problem, I will see you tomorrow.” They both hung up and it took all of Spencer's strength not to slam his phone down on the counter. “It's not like I had any fun plans anyways.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Next chapter we will be getting into more of the case and more Spencer and Hotch moments XD

Let me know what y’all think <3

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snapitseventeen · 4 years

Text

relationship tag | ljh | fluff

summary: when youtuber!jihoon posts a video about your relationship genre: fluff word count: 1.4k _____________________________________________________________

“-I can’t believe I’m doing this, the shit I do for you guys.” Jihoon grumbles into the camera, fixing his newly dyed back-to-black hair under a baseball cap. You only chuckled getting fully situated next to him as you gave a little smile and wave to the camera. “Well, if you read the title of this video, you know what this is already about! I usually don’t do this sort of thing, I mean, this youtube channel is basically a glorified soundcloud, but! I’ve gotten so many comments on who this beautiful person is sitting next to me and I’m sure you’ve seen y/n on all my social media, we do live together after all. So yes, this is my better half, y/n and we are doing the relationship tag.”

In contrast to Jihoon’s blunt words, he gave you the softest of smiles at his introduction, putting a hand on your back for you to say some words. You grinned and waved again, “Hi guys, I’m y/n. Jihoon’s my boyfriend-I, I don’t know, what should I say? Hey don’t laugh at me!”

“I’m sorry, babe.” He chuckled, reaching to tickle your sides, “You’re just cute. Sorry--anyway! I don’t either, I mean, they’re just curious about you and about us I guess? So I looked up a bunch of questions and we’re just gonna lay it all out on the table.”

“This is definitely not like your mixing videos Ji,” You said tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “Alright, shoot.”

“Where did we meet?”

You relaxed at the simple question, a smile on your face as you reminisced on your first memory of him, “Easy, it was at Seokmin’s birthday party three years ago. We were playing beer pong--even though Jihoon literally can’t drink--and you were starting to feel sick halfway through the game so I drank the rest of the cups for our team.”

“We lost, by the way. Soonyoung has a fucking killer aim, I still hate the boys for making me play because, yeah I swear I’m allergic to alcohol, but I did get to meet you,” He said with a grin, “So throwing up that night in Seokmin’s bathroom was all worth it.”

You laughed and hit his arm, “Lightweight.”

“I’m allergic.” He deadpanned at the camera. “Anyway, what was your first impression of me?”

“Competitive. I’m telling you guys, he was literally swearing at Soonyoung and Jeonghan across the ping pong table. I also thought you were cute, I can say that now because it’s been three years, but you would have never gotten it out of me back then.” You said holding your hand up, “Wait, do I have to answer all the questions? I wanna know what you thought of me.”

“I thought you were cute too,” He laughed placing his hand around your waist, “You were also my savior that night because I probably would have died from alcohol poisoning if you weren’t my partner, the boys would have never drank for me because they’re asswipes and want me to suffer. y/n helped me to the bathroom after we lost and made sure I was hydrated and then I was hooked.”

You rolled your eyes, jokingly pinching his side, “You’re such a liar.”

Jihoon chuckled, “I’m kidding. It wasn’t like that, but after y/n did that, I was pretty interested in getting to know em more.”

“Okay next question,” you clapped your hands, your boyfriend looking at you fondly before glancing at his phone again. “Alright, I’ll do another easy one. How long have we been together?”

“two years,” you smiled up at him, the boy nodding as he added onto your answer, “and four months. Hm, what was our first date?”

“Our first official date was a picnic in the park, we ordered some takeout and had a bluetooth speaker playing music. Literally, we were just sitting, talking, and eating for hours.” You hummed, “Jihoon and I are pretty lazy so our dates aren’t that thrilling, but honestly we had plenty of hangouts before when it was just you and me in the music studio.”

“In college, I literally lived in the studios. y/n would come and hang out with me a lot.” Jihoon nodded. You reached for his hand, lacing your fingers together, “I’d bring food and coffee, sometimes I would study while Jihoon was playing with the mixing board, I don’t know, being around him was comforting--it still is.”

“I hope so,” He teased searching for another question, “I got this from one of the comments, what do you guys do during quarantine?”

“We don’t do much,” You said, “Sorry, we’re pretty boring. I mean, we sleep a lot--wait! That sounded wrong-”

“We do a lot of that too-”

“Jihoon!” You smacked his arm as he shrugged, “We’re grown adults in a relationship, y/n. It’s an unspoken fact.”

“My parents watch your channel!” You crossed your arms. Your boyfriend only shot a charming smile to the camera, waving innocently, “Hi Mr. and Mrs. y/l/n. Hope you’re doing well! Don’t worry, I’m taking good care of y/n-”

“You’re unbelievable.” You scoffed, making Jihoon chuckle and pull you in for a hug, “Alright moving on, oh this is a good one, what do we argue about the most?”

“Hm, this isn’t really the case now because you finally found a good work-life balance, but before we always had little fights about when Jihoon needed to stop working on his music and go take a rest.” You said with a little frown, “What do you think?”

“Yeah, back then I was pretty bad at it, sometimes I got annoyed when you would tell me to stop working, but I know now that you were doing it for my health.” He said sheepishly. “Now, though, it’s probably who gets to be little spoon. Jihoon loves being little spoon.”

“Hey!” He whined lightly pushing your stomach. You only laughed, “Your viewers wanna know the real you, babe. I think this is a crucial fact.”

“Being little spoon is nice...” He muttered quietly, a blush on his cheeks. He cleared his throat, getting back to the questions. You smiled and changed your positions so that you were sitting in between his legs, the boy resting his chin on your shoulders as you both answered more questions.

This was nice, Jihoon hadn’t really opened up to his viewers much about your relationship, but you knew he was pretty enthusiastic about this video even if he didn’t say so. He was now retelling the story of your first trip with the boys, laughing about something idiotic Seungkwan and Hansol did at the supermarket. Somewhere in the middle, you started spacing out and just staring at him. The sparkle in his eyes and the way his cheeks raised as he smiled filling you up with butterflies. Momentarily forgetting that this was being recorded, you lifted your head and pressed a kiss on his cheek, interrupting his story. “Babe,”

“Oh shit, sorry, I forgot about the camera. You just looked so cute.” You said hiding your face in your hands. Jihoon grinned and hugged you tighter, pressing a kiss to your temple. “It’s alright. Sorry guys if you hate pda, sue me if you want, but I’m in love.”

Your face scrunched up at his cringey line, but you snuggled into his embrace nonetheless, “any more questions?”

“Let’s do one more,” He said rocking your bodies back and forth, “Complete the sentence: My boyfriend is ____”

“Hmm,” You said thinking for a little bit, “My boyfriend is...my soulmate.”

Jihoon beamed, he swore his lips were going to rip apart. He kissed your shoulder, whispering an I love you into your skin before he looked at the camera. “Well, I hope you guys got what you asked for with this relationship tag. As you can see, I’m very lucky to have y/n. You guys should thank em too, y/n’s a muse to most of my music. I don’t know if we’ll do any more of these kinds of videos, depends on my mood.” He said with a wink, adding more closing remarks.

“Hope you enjoy this video and keep supporting Jihoon! If this video gets 500K likes, I’ll post the snapchat of Jihoon drunk during our first meeting-”

“Uh woah, who said I was okay with that-”

“See you guys on Ji’s social media~” You cooed crawling out of Jihoon’s grasp to end the recording. You turned to face him once the camera was off, a teasing smile on your face as he pursed his lips at you.

“You are not posting that video of me,” He said walking towards you. You only shrugged, wrapping your arms around his waist, “If you get 500K on this video, I will.”

“You’re impossible,” He said with a little shake of his head, removing his baseball cap and putting it on you, “You hungry babe?”

You nodded puckering your lips up expectantly. Jihoon chuckled and gave you a kiss, smiling against your lips. “C’mon, I ordered sushi before we started recording.”

“I love you.”

“I know babe.”

“Hey say it back-”

“I love you too, Jihoon.” _______________________________________________________________________

a/n this was short but JIHOON!!!!! DESERVES!!! THE!!! WHOLE!!! WORLD!!! good night streaks

6-27-20

#I AM SOFT FOR LEE JIHOON #IF YOU COULDN'T TELL #GRR BARK BARK SNARL #jihoon #lee jihoon #woozi #seventeen woozi #seventeen scenarios #seventeen au #seventeen fluff #jihoon au #jihoon fluff #jihoon scenarios #woozi au #woozi fluff #woozi scenarios #seventeen #vobo

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teriwrites · 3 years

Text

I’ve-Been-Neglecting-My-Tags Tag Game

So basically, I’ve been dead to the world for awhile, and instead of individually going back and making posts for tag games I’ve neglected, I decided to just compile them into one bigger post!

Meet the WIP Tag

So @cecilsstorycorner tagged me like two months ago and I’m pretty sure I straight up did not process it. But I found it now, and it looks really fun! Thanks for the tag! I’m going to pull out Castle on the Hill for this because it’s been awhile so this can be like a mini reintroduction.

Title: Castle on the Hill

Logline (1-3 sentence premise): In the early 1960s, a group of young German students face the struggles of university life - finding ambition, relationships, discovering identity, surviving finals, and coming to terms with their nation’s dark past as they look to its future.

Favorite theme explored: There’s kind of a lot going on under the surface, but I think one of the biggest is recognizing internalized biases and understanding the importance of how personal context shades perspective.

A character I’m proud of and why: It’d be easy to say Klaus because he’s one of those characters that just basically writes himself, but I’ll always have a soft spot for Josef. He was the first character I created for the story, and he arguably undergoes the most intense change from start to finish.

That characters tag: yeah, so... if you just search ‘josef’ on my blog he’ll show up. Technically I think I made tags for the Lads, but it didn’t really stick.

Link to a piece/excerpt/post that I’m proud of: So this is a little old but it sums up the group dynamic pretty well. This one has more focus on Josef and Klaus.

Any additional info I want people to know/am proud of: I haven’t posted about it in awhile since I’ve been a little more active in other projects, but I’m still working on it! I need a bit of an overhaul on some of the broad strokes (re: basically I’m working on having a little more structure to the plot) but it’s still kicking.

Manuscript Search Tag

Thank you @regan-wickworre for tagging me in this, sorry that it took like a month to respond to! I’m going to use Beneath Alder Creek because that’s the last large project I’ve worked on.

My words: eyes, friend, chance, fear, desire

Eyes

He was standing several paces back, half-hidden by a wide tree trunk, but there was no disguising the wide-set eyes staring at her incredulously.

Friend

“Would you like a ride home, Miss Pewitt?” Leslie asked amicably, as though the two had been longtime friends and not mere acquaintances with an unfortunate history.

Chance

Still looking away, Winnie raised the pin between her forefinger and her thumb. “You’ve been skittish ever since you saw this at Pryderi’s estate. I might not be the most worldly woman, but I’m smart enough to recognize that stabbing my own guide might delay my chance to find my brother.”

Fear

“He left. He’s afraid of the Evenfall Vault and he left,” she said evenly, hoping it would mask the fear gripping at her chest.

Desire

“Do tell.” There was a dullness to her tone, like she had heard of Enid’s offerings before and was merely amusing her, but Queen Ceridwen examined Winnie and Taliesin with interest. Winnie didn’t dare look over at him, in case she couldn’t resist the wild desire to laugh.

Words I’m leaving: accept, voice, near, resent, silence

Tag Game: This or That (Fantasy Edition)

Thank you @medeaes for the tag!

spell or curse ∙ abandoned mansion or haunted cemetery ∙ vampire slayer or ghost hunter ∙ phoenix or griffin ∙ wrist bite or neck bite ∙ fairy godmother or evil stepmother ∙ herbs or potion ∙ ghost or wraith ∙ dragon scales or werewolf claws ∙ druid or mage ∙ elf or hobbit ∙ divination or necromancy ∙ wand magic or hand magic ∙ centaur or unicorn ∙ dark fairytale or disney-style fairytale ∙ sword or bow & arrow ∙ siren or water nymph ∙ garlic or silver ∙ talking animal or walking tree ∙ demon trap or crossroads pact ∙ enchanted fairy forest or mermaid lagoon

Heads Up, Seven Up

Thank you for tagging me, @em-dashes and @akindofmagictoo!

(I can’t do the last seven because I just finished something and it’d spoil the whole thing, but here are a random seven)

“You have new merchandise, Ms. Kim,” Mike pointed out as he dug through his pockets. “I didn’t even know there were spells for maintaining battery life.”

“Yeah, well, some companies intentionally provide weak batteries to make you replace your phone after a couple years. This cheats seems the lesser of the two evils.” I rested my elbows on the top of the register as I watched Mike stack the contents of his pockets onto the countertop. Books, empty potion bottles, a pair of gloves. After withdrawing a black notebook with an engraved monogram and a full-sized human skull, he finally pulled out his wallet.

I had to ask him what spell he used to get that kind of pocket space.

I’m just gonna start tagging people, and you can respond with whichever tag game you want!

@booksnotbookies @rhikasa @tate-lin @parafoxicalk @absolute-nonsense-scribblings @de-profundis-ad-astra and @riaisntwriting and literally anybody else who wants to!

#no pressure to participate of course!#tag games #writing #my writing

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flowerfan2 · 3 years

Text

One Night in Milwaukee - Ch. 4

David x Patrick, 12k so far, A03

Being stuck in the Milwaukee airport is bad enough. Then David realizes that the man who broke his heart is sitting right next to him.

Chapter 4

David kisses him so tenderly Patrick feels like he’s going to melt. It’s a lot, this forgiveness, after a long day of worrying that his confession was going to send David running again. Patrick breaks the kiss and pulls David into a tight hug, burying his face against David’s neck.

David rubs his back and sniffles a little bit. “Well, now that that’s settled, I suppose I’ll cancel my flight for tomorrow.”

“What?” Patrick pulls back and stares at David. “You already booked a flight for-” He realizes his mistake, and breaks into a choked laugh. “Asshole.”

David looks almost bashful, ducking his head and running his hands up and down Patrick’s arms. “I actually told work I’m taking the week off.”

Patrick searches David’s face, which is touchingly vulnerable. “Yeah? That’s good.”

“Do you, um, want to let me in on your plans?” David asks. “Because I know you didn’t want to talk about it before, but I do kind of have to let people know where I’ll be after that.”

With a rush, Patrick remembers that the two of them know precious little about each other’s lives. Patrick doesn’t even know where David lives, although he assumes it is somewhere in the vicinity of Toronto. But even that is just a guess.

“I’m sorry I blew you off earlier when you asked about that,” Patrick says.

“It’s okay,” David replies, not even going for the joke.

“I was sort of preoccupied,” Patrick goes on.

“You were afraid I was going to run again,” David says plainly.

Patrick hesitates, but then admits it. “I was. Not that you wouldn’t have been entitled to, but-” Patrick’s not sure how to finish this sentence and keep the fragile peace they have found.

David takes in a long breath, which turns into a jaw-cracking yawn. He half-smiles at Patrick, abashed. “As much as I really do want to talk about this-” he waves his hand between the two of them, “I think my body has finally realized how little sleep it’s gotten in the past few days.”

“You need your beauty rest,” Patrick says, agreeing.

David doesn’t seem to take this as a compliment, shaking his head dismissively. “I’m just tired.”

“No, of course, you’re right,” Patrick says. “Can we talk tomorrow?”

This call-back to Patrick’s line so many years ago causes David to quirk a hint of a smile, and Patrick lets out a breath, hopeful that they have made it over at least this particular hurdle. As they head down the hall, he reaches out and takes David’s hand, leading him into the larger bedroom.

David pauses as they go inside, giving Patrick a questioning look.

“I’d really, really like it if you stayed in here with me,” Patrick says. He wishes he had a better argument, a way to explain it, but he just wants David near. He wants the smell of his skin, and the warmth of his body. It’s an ache that won’t go away.

Patrick has been without David for so long, and now that he’s been reminded of what it’s like to be in his presence, he doesn’t want to give it up. Not even while he’s asleep.

“You sure?” David asks, and it gives him a sad sense of déjà vu, back to when David hadn’t learned to trust Patrick’s interest in him, at the very start of their relationship when David seemed to think it was just a matter of time before Patrick grew bored.

Patrick catches David’s gaze and pours his heart into his words. “Very sure.”

David gives Patrick one of his sideways, <i>I can’t help it</i> smiles, and follows Patrick into the room. There’s a moment of awkwardness as they settle under the covers, Patrick’s ribs protesting as he positions himself on his side facing David.

“That doesn’t look comfortable,” David says, frowning. “Shouldn’t you be propping yourself up with pillows or something?”

Patrick doesn’t like thinking about being in the hospital, poked and prodded and asked to tell his story over and over, but he did make a point of remembering his discharge instructions. “They told me it wouldn’t matter, that I might need to sleep more upright for the first few nights, but if I wasn’t having breathing problems I could do whatever I wanted.”

This doesn’t satisfy David. “Okay, I wasn’t even thinking about breathing problems. Are you doing any breathing exercises? Should you be doing them now, before you go to sleep?”

“What do you know about breathing exercises?” Patrick asks, annoyed as he realizes what’s going through David’s head. “Have you been researching broken ribs?”

David sits up. “Yes. Anything wrong with that?”

Patrick presses a hand over his face, a wave of embarrassment running through him at the thought of David surfing the web reading about sleeping positions, and how to clutch a pillow to your chest to cough, and making sure to take deep breaths throughout the day to keep mucus out of your lungs.

“Hey,” David says softly, scooting closer and putting a hand on Patrick’s shoulder. “It’s okay.” David gently shifts Patrick on to his back, and settles close to him, one hand lightly resting on his arm. “This should help keep you still, so you don’t hurt yourself during the night,” David says, his voice barely above a whisper. “If you need me to move, just let me know.”

Patrick’s still got his hand over his eyes, and he feels David press a kiss to his forehead, carefully avoiding his stitches. He wants to say something, to tell David he’s fine and he doesn’t have to worry, but the truth is that his ribs hurt like crazy, and his head is aching, and David’s gentle touch is making him want to cry.

“Shhh,” David says, his arm reaching over to cradle Patrick. “You’re okay. You’re safe. It’s all right.”

Patrick doesn’t know if David can tell that Patrick is still feeling that booted foot landing on his chest, still hearing Jamie yelling for help. If David knows that it isn’t just physical pain that’s got Patrick tied up in knots. He thinks that he does, as David continues to stroke his arm, and murmur tender reassurances.

When Patrick had allowed himself to imagine getting back together with David, it generally featured hot and heavy sex, maybe passionately tearing each other’s clothes off, not David comforting Patrick as hot tears slipped down his face. “I’m sorry,” he chokes out, and he can feel David shaking his head against his cheek.

“Mmm, no, don’t apologize,” David says. “It’s okay. I’m here now. You’re okay.”

As if something deep inside him was waiting for permission, Patrick starts crying in earnest, clutching at his stomach as his ribs protest. David holds him and strokes his back, and Patrick can tell how hard he’s trying not to panic himself by the way his voice rises as he tells Patrick over and over that it’s all right.

Finally, Patrick is able to catch his breath. He opens his eyes to see David watching him.

“Patrick,” David says, his throat tight. “Are you okay? Can I get you anything?” David’s still wrapped around him, holding him together, and Patrick realizes he’s soaked the neckline of David’s shirt with his tears and possibly other unmentionable fluids.

Patrick blows out a long breath and braces himself to sit up, David trying to help. “A tissue?” he asks. “And a do-over?”

David darts up and comes back with the box of tissues from the bathroom and a glass of water. He perches on the side of the bed while Patrick blows his nose, and helps Patrick with the glass, taking it back and setting it carefully on the nightstand after Patrick gulps the water down.

Patrick’s head is still pounding, but he doesn’t think he can stay awake even long enough to think about taking more pain pills. He lets David pull the covers up around them, and holds out an arm for David to carefully curl up next to him.

“I appreciate the offer, but it’s not necessary,” David says, just as Patrick begins to drift off.

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“No do-over necessary,” David says. “You’re doing fine.”

Patrick snorts. “Hardly how I wanted to celebrate getting back together.”

David finds Patrick’s hand and rubs his thumb over his knuckles. “We’ll go get a giant cookie tomorrow if you insist,” David says.

“Ha ha ha.”

David brushes a gentle kiss to Patrick’s lips. “I’m here with you,” David says, his voice filled with emotion. “I don’t need anything else.”

Patrick breathes deep, despite his aching ribs, and falls asleep surrounded by the warmth of the person he loves most in the world.

*****

Patrick wakes up slowly to bright sun shining in around the edges of the window shades. It takes a moment to remember he’s in Florida, and then suddenly it all comes back to him – the airport, and <i>David,</i> and, less pleasantly, Patrick’s breakdown last night in bed.

He reaches out but can tell immediately that David isn’t there. There’s a split second of stomach dropping panic as Patrick wonders where David went, but then his hand lands on an oversized post-it note stuck to his phone.

Went for a run. Be back soon. XO

Patrick feels almost giddy with relief, and stares up at the ceiling grinning like an idiot. His brain skates right over the “run” part of David’s message, and focuses on the end – “Be back soon. XO.” He remembers leaving little notes for David in the early days of their relationship, always with a little “XO” at the end. David always tutted at him for acting like a middle school kid with a crush, but the notes made him blush prettily and Patrick kept it up for months. He’s not sure why he stopped.

Patrick carefully sits up, stiff and aching, and gets out of bed. He takes David’s note with him into the bathroom, running his fingers over the words. He wants to keep it, as solid proof that David Rose is actually back in his life, but he’s not ready to fold it up small and stuff it into his wallet. Instead he sticks it on the mirror, where he’ll be able to see it as soon as he gets out of the shower. Just in case he starts to wonder, again, if this is really happening.

He lets the warm water relax his muscles as he tries not to overthink whatever it is that has brought David back to him. It’s tempting to call it fate, given how very unlikely it was that he and David would wind up in the same place at the same time, especially when that place happened to be the Milwaukee airport. It’s not even a usual hub for connecting flights to stop between New York and Toronto – Detroit is much more common.

After he showers he stares at himself in the mirror, his eyes flickering back and forth between his image (the bruise on his temple turning yellowish-green, the skin around his stitches hardly red at all and not even worth a covering bandage) and the note from David with its little “XO.” The two don’t seem to go together, yet, somehow, they do. Kind of like what people thought about him and David.

He shaves and towels off, padding into the bedroom, hoping to hear David out in the kitchen. But the house is still quiet. He gets dressed, pulling a blue button-up and jeans out of his suitcase, and wanders into the other bedroom.

The bed is neatly made, the white duvet fluffed and arranged carefully over the ocean-colored pillowcases. David always insisted on making his bed, even back at the motel, which made sense given that it was their living space as well as his bedroom. He still doesn’t know how David and Alexis survived in that room together for so long, although he envies the closeness that came out of it.

The closet door is open, and it clearly contains items not belonging to anyone in the Brewer family – David’s leather jacket and heavy black boots. Patrick feels a little creepy looking at David’s things, especially when he sees that his suitcase is mostly empty, except for a few carefully folded sweaters, and starts opening drawers to see what else David brought.

But the drawers only hold some of Patrick’s spare clothes, from a trip last winter to visit his parents. The mystery is solved when Patrick hears the ping from the washing machine in the hall bathroom. He wonders how early David woke up, and if he did anything else besides his laundry before he headed out.

Patrick helps himself to a cup of coffee from the half-empty pot in the kitchen and glances at his phone, realizing that David must have been gone for over an hour. For the first time, it sinks in that David is apparently out exercising, and not only that, he was up long before ten o’clock in the morning. What happened to the “I don’t do well with running,” not-a-morning-person David Rose he used to know?

As if in answer to his question, Patrick hears the front door open. David comes in, sweaty and still breathing a little heavily. “Hi,” David says, making a beeline for the sink and pouring himself a glass of water, which he drinks down in a few long gulps.

Patrick can’t tear his eyes away from David’s body. His damp t-shirt clings to his chest, which seems to have gotten broader since Patrick last saw him. His waist is trimmer, too, and the thigh muscles revealed by his silky running shorts are more defined.

David catches him looking, but instead of a pleased blush he just looks embarrassed.

“David,” Patrick says, stepping closer, “you look great.”

David grimaces. “No, I’m disgusting.” He tries to slide past Patrick and back down the hall, but Patrick stops him with a hand on his arm.

“David.” Patrick knows it’s not the time to be flirty, but he can’t let David think for one more moment that he is anything less than beautiful. “You look great,” he repeats, holding David’s gaze.

David still has trouble accepting it, but he purses his lips and blinks at Patrick. “Thank you. Now, let me take a shower, and tell me that again when I’m clean.”

“Will do.”

David starts to move off down the hallway, then turns back and sighs. “I don’t have a single clean shirt left. Can I borrow one of yours?”

Patrick hates that David even has to ask. There was a time that David tried out Patrick’s clothes like a kid playing dress-up, even wearing one of his much-maligned button-downs to that job interview with Stevie. It amused them both to no end to watch David acting out the roles that he associated with Patrick’s staid Gap purchases.

The times that Patrick tried on David’s clothes are even more treasured in Patrick’s memory. He won’t ever forget the look on David’s face when Patrick put on a skirt. They fell into bed and fucked like rabbits, never even making it out the door.

“Of course, everything’s still in my suitcase,” Patrick says, pushing aside the memories. “Take whatever you want.”

David nods his thanks and disappears into the bathroom.

#Schitt's Creek fic #David x Patrick #David Rose #Patrick Brewer #Schitt's Creek #One Night in Milwaukee

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17hansolah · 4 years

Text

Temporary Boyfriend~Mingyu

Okay, so... this is a Mingyu scenario I made about 3 or 4 years ago and never posted ‘cause I didn’t think that anyone would like it. But hey, here it is. I ased ig off of the manga Perfect Boyfriend if anything seems familar that is why. Hope you like it!

You should be used to this by now. But, somehow you managed to still feel surprised.

You had been stood up, again and you really thought that it could of worked out this time. But of course it didn’t.

The lonely table for two, nearly empty drink and sound of chatting couples around had now become somewhat familiar.

You waited at your table as you swirled your drink with as straw and took your last sip. Glancing down at your phone to check the time you realize that your date really isn’t coming.

Sighing ,you pick up your phone from the table and turn around to gather your jacket of the back of the chair. You take out the money to pay for your drink, when you see a small rectangular object on your table.

You pick it up and graze your fingers over it confused. It was black with gold writing and a gold clover in the corner of the card. It seemed to be…a business card?

“What is this you,” you mumble to yourself incoherently. You look around you to see if anyone was walking about but, everyone was seated and enjoying themselves.

That’s when you felt a finger tap your shoulder, You gasped in shock gripping your heart and twisting around to face a guy smiling at you. He had blond hair and an interesting sense of style.

“I can see that you’ve found my business card?” he tells you smiling. You gave him a confused look then you remembered the card that you hand resting in your hand.

“Oh, this is your business card?,” you asked.

“Surely is. I’m Hoshi by the way. So, I can see that you are having issues with guys.” he said whispering the last part.

You looked at him slightly insulted.

“No I am not!” you exclaimed a little too loud, which caused a few heads to turn in your direction. You quickly apologized and repeated yourself to, what was his name again. Oh yeah, Hoshi.

“Sure you aren’t,” he replied with a smirk. “Anyways that is my card and I believe that it will help you with all your boyfriend issues. There’s no need tp thankme,” he said with another big smile.

“But, there’s only a name on th-” you didn’t finish your sentence because when you looked he was already gone.

Once you reached home you quickly ran over to your laptop and pulled the business card out of your bag.

“Time to see what this is all about,” you tell yourself as you type in the name on the card.

Seventeen Sweethearts

The website read and the clover from the card appeared at the top. With further searching you found out that this website was one in which you could, order a boyfriend!

You looked further into the site and realized that these were all what seemed to be dream boyfriends. They were supposed to be people that were gaurenteed to be your soulmate. You skimmed over something claiming they were good at everything, reading something a long the lines of much better than humans. Whatever thats supposed to mean.

There was the bad boy, vampire boyfriend, the laid back boyfriend, even the typical sweetheart and quite a few more.

“Well I have nothing to lose you,” you said to yourself as you skipped the terms and conditions and placed your order already half asleep.

The next morning you woke up to the surprise of an extremely large package being delivered right to you. The people who delivered it seemed to be in quite a hurry to give you your package but, you signed the paper and brought your package inside.

You quickly open the package and the first thing you did was let out a scream when you saw a person inside. He looked..so..real!

You quickly examined his sleeping form and looked at the paper lying on his chest. You picked it up gently and it read:

Hello customer,

I’m glad that you chose to shop with Seventeen Soulmates. Please enjoy your soulmate to the fullest. His name is Mingyu. We hope you love him, even though he’ll already love you! To set him up you must kiss him. Sometimes it takes more than one kiss. Enjoy your sweetheart!

Good Luck,

Seventeen Soulmates

You look down at your boyfriend Mingyu confused and you began laughing to yourself. What have I gotten myself into.

You lean down and run your thumb against his cheek. His skin felt very soft and you were surprised that he was not human, or was he.

Disregarding this thought you leaned in towards his face, slowly placing your lips on his gently. Nothing.

You give him another short gentle kiss. Nothing.

“Why isn’t this working…” you ask yourself.

You decided to lean down for the last time and give Mingyu a gentle kiss but long kiss on the lips.

Still nothing.

“Well, I give up. Why isn’t he turning on. I guess that I’ll just have to carry him ba-.”

You heard a knock on the door of your apartment so you quickly rose to your feet. Leaving Mingyu behind and answering the door. You had not even opened the door fully before you were greeted my Hoshi stepping through the door.

“So how are you enjoying your boyfriend? Did you get him to wake up yet. Oh, it seems like you have.”

“No, I haven’t...” you turned around to see a yawning Mingyu, slowly getting up from his position. in the box. As soon as he saw you his eyes lit up and he jumped up running over to snuggle you in a warm hug. You slightly pushed Mingyu off of you and he motioned for him to sit down by the chair.

He obeyed and you sat beside.

“Um, Hoshi can you please explain to me. Um, well everything!”

“Hey, hey. Calm down. I said that I’d help you and I did.This is Mingyu, your perfect boyfriend. He is exactly how you chose him to be when you were describing what you wanted. He’s exactly what you think he is,” Hoshi said with a beaming smile. “He’s your temporary boyfriend!”

"Temporary boyfriend! What's that supposed to mean. I thought I was being set up for a date or something and this robot shows up to my door!" you wave your hands dramatically giving him an incredulous look.

It was his turn to look confused, "I thought you understood this when you signed up. You did read the contract and terms of agreement before you order right?"

You went silent. You were so quick to sign up last night that of course you didn't read the fine print.

"Back the look on your face it seems that you didn't. But don't worry I'll give you a recap of the most important information. According to Section 47.b of clause 76 "The customer who places the order must strictly adhere to the contract by choosing to keep their soulmate for the 1 month trial period in immaculate condition. This will allow for our compant to collect information on how succesful relationships can occur for people who were having trouble with love." As well as the most important part, Section 108.f of clause 52 "Any customer who fails to abide by this contract will have to pay $10 000 000 to the company for lost time and wages, wasted materials, labour." I could go on but you can read that yourself. That would be all you need to know. If you have any more questions or concerns please let us know. Here's a physical copy of the contract just in case you decide you cancel it." He beamed towards you as he pulled a stack of what has to foot thick stack of papers. Bowing politely he quickly exits through your front door.

"10 million dollars? How could I let this happen" You had to sit down to take in your new information. You looked over to Mingyu your temporary boyfriend and supposed soulmate. Placing a hand on his shoulder you look up at him with determined eyes. "Hi Mingyu, I guess we have a long 30 days ahead of us."

This was supposed to have numerous parts but I've written it so long ago and abandoned it :( But if y'all like it I might make a second part.

#seventeen #seventeen scenarios #svt #svt scenarios #mingyu #mingyu scenarios #mingyu scenario #seventeen mingyu #mingyu seventeen #i literally wrote this so long ago but since my posting has become non existent here is a scenario

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marwritesgood · 4 years

Text

Beautiful | B. Hargrove

Pairing : Billy x Reader

Timeframe : Post-Season 3

Summary : [A Continuation of Pretty] Max and El, with the help of Joyce Byers, set out to grant Billy’s dying wish.

masterlist // PART ONE

It had been a month since your movie date with Billy, and you felt like things were going great. You told him you loved him religiously, and he would always pull you in for a kiss in response. Knowing all that he had to endure, you knew Billy would need time and assurance before he could ever admit that he loved you too. That would never stop you from showering him with love.

“Hey, you,” he smiled weakly, pulling you into his arms as you approached him and his car. It was just an ordinary Thursday night when you looked out your window and noticed Billy’s Camaro pull up into your driveway. Luckily for the both of you, you were home alone, and your parents wouldn’t return for at lest another three hours.

“Hey,” you replied softly, wrapping your arms around him. He reeked of tobacco- even more so than normal. This was always a sign that something was wrong. Billy had a tendency to absorb a packet of cigarettes whenever he was nervous, which was not often. “Everything okay? What are you doing here?”

“I just...” He caresses your cheek with his right hand, looking intently in your eyes as he paused for a prolonged moment. “I wanted to see you... One last time.”

You slowly pulled his hand away from your cheek. With furrowed eyebrows, you paused to look at Billy for a minute. Looking to see if his tell was appearing, desperate for some sort of sign that this was a joke. That he was just playing a cruel practical joke on you, because he knows how emotional you can get. Anything would be better than what he was suggesting.

“What’s going on, Billy?”

“My dad and- uh, Susan,” he began, coughing uncomfortably as he said his stepmom’s name aloud. The fact that he was bringing them up was enough for you to know that this was bad, but even still. You held hope. “They’re going through with the plan to move to Indiana... And they wanna leave tomorrow morning.”

“What?” You couldn’t keep your voice from cracking as you cried out. Billy couldn’t look you in the eye anymore. Not if it meant seeing you cry. “But, you said they weren’t gonna decide til the end of the year... I thought we had more time together.”

“They didn’t really care about what anyone else had to say... Not even Max.”

“... What does this mean about us?”

It pained you to ask that question. So much more than you could ever articulate.

“That’s why I’m here,” he stated shortly, before turning around, and opening the passenger door to his car. After closing the door and turning back to me, he held out a big cardboard box filled with familiar items that belonged to me. “To give you your stuff and... Say goodbye.” “You’re breaking up with me...” You couldn’t tell if you said that as a question or as an observation. Either way, there was no hiding how heartbroken you were. Billy couldn’t avoid looking you in the eye any longer. “You don’t have to do this, Billy... We can still... We can still talk over the phone. Write letters. I can visit you in my breaks. We can-”

“Y/n,” he says loudly, keeping me from continuing your list of different ways we could stay in touch. “C’mon. It’s pointless. Long distance doesn’t work... You and I both know that.”

A lot of the students who transferred to your school from out of state had a boyfriend or girlfriend back home. Just about all of them were forced to break it off, because dating someone you see everyday is significantly more easier than someone living on the other side of the country.

“Pointless?” You repeated, trying to conceal how hurt you were, but failing miserably at doing so. Billy’s face softened, as he quickly regretted his choice of words. “Why does it feel like you’re giving up on us, Billy? Like you’re giving up on me.”

“I don’t want to,” he affirmed, lifting his hand to your cheek. Normally, you would move away from his grasp, but given the situation, you decided to remain still. “I don’t wanna give up on us, but I do wanna set you free... And, moving to Indiana, and expecting you to be here waiting for me when I get back... That’s only gonna tie you down.”

“Oh, so this just you deciding what’s best for me, then huh?”

“Don’t make this harder than it already is,” he responded, matching your rise in volume. Arguments between the two of you were rare, but very tumultuous.

“I’ll do you one better then,” you fired back, before snatching the cardboard box aggressively away from his hand. “Go to Indiana and do whatever the hell you want... I’m done waiting around for you.”

There was irony in the way that Billy had arrived to say goodbye to you, but it was you who ended up walking away from him. Slamming the front door behind you, you threw the cardboard box in the corner of your bedroom and collapsed onto your bed.

->->->->->->->

“And, honey, you’re sure this is her house?”

It didn’t take a lot of convincing for Joyce to agree to drive Max and El to California in search of Billy’s ex-girlfriend. After the Battle at Starcourt Mall, and the immense grief of losing Hopper, she was looking forward to doing something good. Something that could potentially make another person happy.

“I’m sure,” Max answered, looking out her window and nodding. Her and El had begged Nancy to help them find your address. Once they arrived, Max instantly recognised the fences and the front door, having sat in the backseat whenever you and Billy picked her up from school.

“Let’s go,” El muttered in determination, before being the first to open her door and begin marching toward the front door.

Being the supervising adult, Joyce held El back from pressing the doorbell. Though she was certain there were no threats nearby, she still insisted on being the one to ring the doorbell. After a minute passed, the front door opened slowly, revealing the girl they had spent several hours in a truck finding.

“Hi-” your sentence was completely cut off, when she recognised the redheaded girl standing at her doorstep. “... Max?”

“Hey... Y/n,” she replied, as she slowly took a step towards you. Much to her surprise, you pulled her in for a hug, grasping onto her tightly, just as you often would whenever she came to you with troubles or concerns.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, as you turned to the other two standing in front of you. “Please come in.”

You walked them into your kitchen, where the four of you sat at your table.

“Um, Y/n, this is El and Ms Byers.”

“Joyce,” the older lady corrected, holding her hand out to she yours whilst offering a gentle smile. “I’m... I’m guessing you heard about what happened in the news recently.”

You nodded silently, holding your breath in attempt to keep yourself from crying again. That’s all you had done for the past few days, ever since you saw Billy’s face appear on the front page of your local newspapers.

“El and I,” Max began explaining, fumbling with her fingers as she spoke, something she had a tendency to do whenever she was nervous about something. Much like her brother this was a rare occasion. “We were there when it happened, and...”

She couldn’t finish explaining, before her eyes flooded with tears. Her small cries became muffled from the way she clasped her hand over her mouth and looked away. Joyce wrapped her arm around Max comfortingly, prompting El to finish explaining.

“Before he... died,” El began, furrowing her eyebrows as she tried to word her explanation in the most accurate way possible, without giving away the truth about what really happened. “He asked me to find you... And to tell you he loved you too.”

You held your hand over your mouth and weeped.

Things stayed like this for a while. Once Max recovered, she and El both rubbed your back as you cried. Each of them not being able to keep themselves from crying with you too. Once you began to ground yourself again, you remembered something that you had forced yourself to ignore for the past year and a half.

“This might be a lot to ask,” you whispered, clearing you throat, as you stood from your seat and faced the three women seated before you. Though you had only just met Joyce and El mere hours ago, you knew that if Max trusted them enough to be vulnerable around them, you could trust them in the same way too. “But would you be able to help me with something.”

The three of them exchanged brief glances with on another, before Joyce finally turned back to you and smiled.

“Whatever you need.”

You asked them to wait for a moment, before turning around and heading towards your bedroom. As you dug through a pile of old textbooks and dirty clothes, you recovered the last thing Billy had ever given to you, and you brought it with you back into the kitchen.

“Before he moved away, Billy gave me this,” you explained, as you gently unfolded the flaps and opened up the box. “I could never bring myself to go through the stuff in here, because we were one bad terms when he left, but now... now I think I’m ready.”

And so, for the next hour, you went through the numerous items in the box. The mixtapes he made for you. The chapstick containers you left in his car. The jacket you left in his bedroom. Even the several bras that had accumulated in the backseat of his car, which you had difficulty explaining to El.

“Hey, Y/n, what’s this?” Max asked, as she pulled out a light-wash denim jacket from the bottom of the box. You gasped, when yo saw her pull it out, because you instantly recognised the food stain pattern along the lapel.

“That’s his jacket,” You whispered in disbelief, holding the material closer to your face so you could feel it against your cheek- just like you did whenever you hugged him. “He had a couple like it, but that was the exact one he wore when-”

“He took you to see the Outsiders,” El finished, tears brimming within her eyes.

“... Yeah,” you smiled, glancing over at the small brunette. “How did you know?”

“He told me,” El answered. It was as close to an honest answer as she could offer.

“Did he... um- did he say anything else... about me?”

“Just that...” El smiles, finally knowing exactly what to say to you. “That you were beautiful, and... he was really happy with you.”

You exhale, as if to release much of what had burdened you for the past year. He made you so immensely happy. Though your heart was still struck aggressively by your grief, your pain was alleviated slightly just from knowing that you had the same effect on him.

#Billy Hargrove #billy x reader #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagines #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #imagine #imagines #one shot #one shots #fanfiction #fandom #fanfic #Fandoms #fanfictions #angst #fluff

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wherevermyway · 3 years

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roller rinks and raspberry berets (1/2) // jeongbin // 18+

chapter one: heaven and back navigation: next chapter [in progress]

pairing: seo changbin x yang jeongin | past bang chan x seo changbin rating: explicit! 18+ warnings/tags: explicit sexual content, recreational drug use (LSD, weed), 1980s AU, strangers-to-lovers, the roller skates stay on during sex, past infidelity, phone sex, masturbation, semi-public sex word count: 11,606 also on AO3

originally posted: 16 november 2021

It’s 1987, and the party scene is as vibrant and lively as the neon rainbow everyone is painted in.

Several months after a nasty breakup, Seo Changbin’s friends set him up with a mutual friend, Yang Jeongin. They speak on the phone a couple of times, then decide to go through with the blind date set up for them at a local roller rink. Changbin realizes he never really learned how to skate, but with Jeongin's hands guiding him, anything's possible.

They take some questionable substances and sparks start to fly when the lights drop and the music gets louder.

It's neon night at The Roxanne, and things are about to liven up, in more ways than one.

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction! any reference to persons in this work of fiction are purely coincidental. the characters referenced from Stray Kids are interpretations loosely based on their personalities in the group and do not represent the real people behind the personas. if this, or any of the content included in the warnings above make you uncomfortable, please stop reading now.

A murky haze surrounded two men lying on a shag carpet in a rundown apartment. The stench of scorched marijuana and incense clung to the walls like the dingy wallpaper that was slowly starting to yellow and peel. If it wasn’t for the Madonna calendar hanging up right next to the fridge that had “MAY 1987” emblazoned in big, blocky orange letters, it would seem like the place was stuck in 1973.

“You’re gonna want this,” a young man with spiky, neon orange hair passes off a dime bag with a couple of tiny blotters in it to the other young man with shaggy black hair. “Neon night at The Roxanne always gets fuckin’ dope, but if you’re not trippin’ on something, it ain’t as good.”

“Word,” the man with black hair rubs his eyes and tosses the bag onto his chest. He brings a joint up to his lips, taking a deep inhale, before passing it back to the other man. The smoke hangs in his lungs for a few moments, before he carefully exhales the vapour into the air, letting the smoke feed into the cloud hovering above them. “You really think this Jeongin is as rad as Seungmin keeps hyping him up to be?”

The orange haired man coughs while he laughs. “Dunno, dude.” He takes another hit from the joint, and a wide grin spreads across his face. “I’ve met him a couple times. He plays the electric bass some band and thinks he’s good at surfing. Seung keeps telling me ‘Oh, Changbin’s gonna love him, Jeongin’s got a collection of weird records and refuses to use cassette tapes’ like it means something.”

Changbin fumbles himself upright and points at Minho, dime bag sliding off of his chest and down to the floor. “He’s got a point, dude,” the younger man, despite looking higher than a kite, attempts to look totally serious. “I told you, records just sound better. Don’t give me that shit about cassette tapes. The only shit tapes have for them is that they’re convenient for road trips. Sound-wise, it ain’t the same.”

The two of them stare at each other before bursting into a fit of the giggles. They laugh until their stomachs hurt and the cherry burns out of their joint.

“Anyway,” Minho wipes the corners of his eyes and pulls a slip of paper out of his back pocket, “you should give him a call before your date. Might make things a little less awkward.”

Changbin takes the slip of torn notebook paper and stares at it. He was doing fine until he saw the ten digits and ‘Jeongin’ on the paper, then his palms started to sweat a bit. “You really think he’s gonna like me?”

Minho relights the joint between his teeth and smirks, giving Changbin a coy glance. “Everyone likes you, dude. Chill out.”

Changbin didn’t get the courage to call Jeongin until Wednesday night, two days before their blind date. Minho was out for the night, going to some lame house party with Seungmin again. The two were practically attached at the hip, unsure if they were going to ever officially become an item or not; they had been on-again, off-again for nearly a year now. Minho was seriously considering asking Seungmin if they should settle down, take things seriously, but then Chan had broken up with Changbin, and it made everyone question if relationships were really worth it.

“Man,” Changbin sighed as he flopped down onto his bed. He reached over to his nightstand and cracked his knuckles before he scraped together enough weed to roll a quick joint. Minho was always better at it than him, but he tried his damnedest. As long as he could smoke up enough to forget about frantic college students contemplating the true meaning of Shakespeare’s work while he helped them search for reference materials, he didn’t really care what exactly the joint looked like.

It turned out a little crooked, but it didn’t matter. As long as it got the job done, right? He took a stray match from the tray and struck it against a matchbox, spinning it around the end of his joint as he took a deep inhale, then shook the match until the flame went out. As he watched the smoke leave his lips, he chewed on his lip a bit.

Tonight was the night. It had to be. There were only two nights to go.

His eyes fluttered down to the same scrap of paper that Minho had handed him a couple of days ago, sitting right next to the phone on his desk. When they first moved into this apartment, Minho teased him for having a rotary phone, instead of something with real push buttons. “Dude, you’re, like, twenty-five and you’ve got an old ass rotary phone. You’re fitting that old, crusty librarian stereotype, now you just need twenty cats and argyle-patterned wool sweaters covered in your cats’ fur.”

Minho earned the elbow in the ribs that Changbin gave him for that.

Changbin wasn’t sure how long he sat and stared at that scrap of paper, but it was long enough for him to get through his entire joint. Would Jeongin really like him? Could he handle the weird, nerdy rants Changbin could go on about the Dewey Decimal Classification when he got really baked? Did Jeongin even do, much less like, drugs?

Okay, if he was friends with Seungmin, he absolutely had to be fine with the last concern. That was one fear off of the list, alleviating his concerns a minute amount.

After Chan got sick of Changbin’s oddities, he was nervous that his next partner would be overly critical of everything he did. Afraid that he would spark an argument over something stupid, like the way that their albums were organized, or whether or not plates should be on the bottom shelf of a cupboard, or the second shelf.

Domestic life with a partner was stupid, and being stuck in the middle of one’s twenties, when someone supposed to be in the prime of their youth, was not the time to argue over fucking dinner plates. Changbin figured that now was the perfect time to drop acid on a date with some dude he never met, even if he wasn’t sure if the stranger was even cute or not. It didn’t matter.

Fuck it.

He placed the remnants of his burnt out joint on the metal tray, pushing it out of the way as he stood up, grabbing his phone and the paper off of his desk, dropping them onto his nightstand. Hopefully, this conversation would be long enough for him to be able to relax up against the wall, to get comfortable and bond. Even if it wasn’t a guarantee towards forever, Changbin would let his guard down just a little, let someone in again. It had been several months, nearly a year at this point, and it was time.

His fingers were slightly clammy, holding the flimsy paper in between his thumb and index finger. He took in a sharp breath, then brought the receiver up under his ear, propping it up with his shoulder. Subconsciously, Changbin furrowed his brows and stuck the tip of his tongue out through the corner of his lips as he punched in each digit into the rotary, letting the dial spin and click between each number.

After the tenth number was in, he sat back a bit, listening to the dial tone trill in his ear.

Once.

Was this the right number?

Twice.

Would Jeongin pick up?

Three rings.

Was he even home?

Four.

Was this a good idea?

Five. Five was making Changbin nervous, more nervous than he expected.

“Hello?” The voice on the other line was breathy and he heard a couple of small pants. It was easy to get distracted, Changbin getting lost in the possible reasons as to why the other voice was so… occupied.

“H-hi,” he stumbled over his words, forgetting how to form a coherent sentence. Shit, this was awkward. “I’m looking for Jeongin. Yang Jeongin. Do I have the right number?”

“Heh,” the other voice chuckles. “Depends on who’s asking.”

Arrogant. Changbin liked that. “Seo Changbin. Apparently, we’re going on a date on Friday, thanks to our friend Seungmin.”

“Damn,” the other young man sighed, “took you forever to call. Seungmin said he wasn’t gonna give me your number, that I should wait for you to call.” There’s a sound of something metallic clattering against a hard surface. “I don’t like waiting, but I figured I’d give it a chance. I’m tired of dating guys that have dated guys I’ve dated already.”

Changbin swallowed hard, not sure of what exactly he should say.

“That was a joke, dude.” Jeongin sighs, and there’s a bit of shuffling on the other line. “Please tell me you know how to laugh. If you don’t know how to laugh, I don’t know how this is gonna work out.”

“Yeah,” Changbin squeaks, “I just, I dunno, I’m not really good at talking over the phone unless it’s for, like, work or something.”

“Oh yeah!” The other man exclaims, and a slap against a hard surface comes through the tinny receiver. “Seungmin told me you’re a librarian. You don’t hear of many 25-year-old librarians, much less ones that are dudes, and even fewer that don’t have cats. Weird.” He laughs a little bit, a cute, light, floaty laugh. “Why did you become a librarian, of all things? Sounds kinda nerdy.”

Without thinking, Changbin grits his teeth in nervousness, reminded of all of the shitty jocks in high school giving him shit for spending all of his free time in the library, nose in some nonfiction books about music theory. None of those bastards got anywhere in life, anyways, so who was really laughing now? “It’s because I am a nerd,” he says, a bit colder than he should have, “but I like organization, helping people find things, and, honestly, just being able to feel a little smarter than most people sometimes.”

The weed was starting to really have an effect on him, allowing him to physically relax, but also be a bit more open. Perhaps he was a bit too open.

The two men share a brief pause over the phone and then Jeongin laughs. “So, you think you’re pretty smart, huh?”

“I mean,” Changbin leans up against the wall, tangling the phone cord aimlessly between his fingers, “I don’t have two degrees in this for nothing.”

“Ha,” Jeongin’s laugh bubbles up again, “dweeb.”

They chat aimlessly for a while, and Changbin finds out that Jeongin is, indeed, a musician. Dropped out of university to be a bassist with a couple of his friends, but he works in a pawn shop half-time.

“Pays the bills and it lets me get first pick of all of the good, barely-played records,” Jeongin quips. “Even if sometimes people wanna try to steal shit and we get threats of armed robbery every couple weeks. Stressful, but I got a copy of The Wall last week, brand new and unopened, for way cheaper than my boss would’ve sold it for, so that makes up for it.”

Changbin found Jeongin startlingly fascinating. They seemed like total opposites on some things, since Jeongin was an extrovert and Changbin was an introvert, but they agreed on important things, like music. “That reminds me,” he slid down to lay up against his bed and stare at the ceiling, “my roommate, Minho? He tried to tell me there’s no auditory difference between records and cassette tapes.”

“Dude!” Jeongin scoffs with offence. “You need a new roommate. What a shitty opinion.”

“I know, I know,” Changbin curls into himself a bit, a wide smile on his face as he laughs. “Minho doesn’t get it, man. I tried playing a couple different things, but he still didn’t get it.”

The two of them share a laugh over the line. It had been so long since someone other than Minho made Changbin genuinely smile and laugh like that, and he was starting to have a bit less reservation about Jeongin. Maybe this would work out, after all.

“So,” the other man clears his throat, trying to calm himself from laughing so hard, “I gotta ask. What’s your favourite year in music so far, since ’80? Don’t get me started on the 60s and 70s, because I have a lot of opinions.”

“That’s tough.” Changbin bites his tongue and squints, rolling his eyes back and forth, scanning the ceiling as if it would give him some sort of answer. “’84, if I have to pick. I mean, dude, look at Queen; they’re fucking killing it. ‘Radio Ga Ga’ is still playing everywhere. Don’t even get me started on ‘Take On Me’, either.”

Jeongin politely chuckles. “Alright, man, I gotta disagree. ’85. ‘Raspberry Beret’ is so good, like, it’s my favourite by Prince. ‘Don’t You Forget About Me’? Come on, man, The Breakfast Club. You can’t tell me that’s not iconic.”

“That’s one of my favourite movies, man.” Changbin’s face starts to hurt from smiling so much as he quotes the film: “‘We’re all pretty bizarre. Some of us are just better at hiding it, that’s all.’”

There’s a soft laugh on the other line, something different about it, like the mood has shifted into something a little more serious. “Ah, Changbin. I knew I’d like you, not just for your opinions on records and cassette tapes. You seem pretty neat, and I wanna get to know you more.”

The blush that creeps up on Changbin’s face is uncomfortably hot. They had to have been on the phone for about an hour, but everything was starting to unravel naturally, comfortably, and it was exciting. His gaze falls as he turns his head to the side, eyeing the metal alarm clock on his nightstand.

“I’d like that, Jeongin,” he says, nearly whispering it. “I’ve gotta head to bed here in a bit, since I’ve got an early day of being your local resident nerd at the campus library tomorrow.”

“I haven’t seen you yet,” the other man lowers his voice, practically growling into the phone, “but you might just convince me that librarians and nerds can be hot and sexy, after all.”

Changbin practically chokes on his saliva at that comment. His eyes widen and he shakes his head a few times, almost comically. “I wouldn’t say that I’m either of those things, but I’m curious to hear what you think of me. Maybe we could pick up this conversation tomorrow?”

“I’m free all night, baby. Call me up whenever.”

The two of them offer impolite farewells, then Changbin softly hangs up the phone. He checks his alarm clock to make sure his alarm is set, then pulls the drawstring on his desk lamp, turning it off.

“Nerds can be hot and sexy, after all.” Jeongin’s voice echoed in his head, and just the thought of the way he said that caused his nerves to come to life, for his breath to quicken. What did this mysterious pawn shop clerk by day, musician by night look like? Was he any good in the sheets? Was he aggressive, was he soft?

If he wasn’t so tired, Changbin would’ve let his mind run a little more wild, maybe let his hands wander south. Instead, he quickly fell asleep, losing himself in the memory of Jeongin’s voice and the possibilities they had ahead of them.

The next day went by slower than it should have, and it was completely unfair. It was two in the afternoon when things came to a complete standstill. It was Thursday, and a lot of students would likely be in the middle of exams, so there wasn’t much to do, other than daydream about Jeongin while aimlessly thumbing through a catalogue of items for archiving.

Changbin stood at the archiving desk, the area completely emptied out and quiet. The lack of people meant there was a lack of work, allowing for his mind to travel to some interesting places: imagining bony fingers scanning his body, running down his torso, grabbing his hips. He subconsciously gripped the red pen in his hand a little tighter, leaning against the desk as he bit his lip, trying hard not to rut against the oaken wood beneath him.

He should be focusing on the lengthy parchment in front of him, waiting to be indexed. Waiting, like he was, to be aimlessly fucked into. It had been over a year since he last slept with someone, and it was starting to become tiresome. It usually didn’t bother him, but Jeongin’s voice and his words had been dancing around in his head all day, making his entire body tingle and tense.

Their blind date was tomorrow night, but Changbin wasn’t sure if he could hold out on getting off for one more day. He had to know more intimate details about Jeongin, and, nerves be damned, he was going to work up the courage to find out tonight.

Changbin nervously paced around his empty apartment, soles of his feet dragging across the shag carpet in the living room. He told himself he wouldn’t call Jeongin until 19:30 at the earliest, and calling him at exactly 19:30 would just be overkill and stupid. He couldn’t come off as needy or desperate, so he waited. Every couple of minutes, he would anxiously look up at the clock that hung up on the wall above his prized record player.

19:24.

“Dammit all to hell,” Changbin grumbled, nibbling on his thumbnail as he continued to pace. Kate Bush’s ‘Cloudbusting’ was nearly finished playing, which meant he was going to have to flip the record over to side B, but he decided against it. No, he’d suffer in silence until 19:33; an arbitrary time, but random enough to seem unsuspicious. That meant a little under eight minutes to wait impatiently. He’d get through it, he figured, even though it would be painful.

As the song ended and Changbin went to shut off the record player and slip the vinyl back into its papery packaging, the phone rang. A gasp silently escaped his lips as he looked up at the clock. 19:26.

No, it couldn’t be Jeongin. Changbin didn’t give him his phone number. Still, he ran off to his bedroom. He shouldn’t get his hopes up, but it was better to be prepared just in case. He slammed his door behind him and rushed to grab the receiver, anxiously bringing it up to his ear.

“Hello?” He tried so hard to stay calm as he answered the phone.

“Hey!” Changbin frowned as he realized the voice on the other line was Minho. “It’s just me. I’m gonna be at Seungmin’s tonight. We’ve got, uh,” he lowers his voice, “I’m probably not gonna be home until, like, Sunday at this rate. Seungmin’s got plans.”

He tried really hard not to, but Changbin still rolled his eyes in envy at his roommate. “Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, “have fun getting the life pounded out of you. Hopefully you can still walk by the time you come home on Monday.”

“Oh come on,” Minho scoffed. “According to Seungmin, don’t be surprised if Jeongin’s got similar plans for the both of you if you two hit it off.”

Changbin shook his head and instantly flushed at the thought, his brain malfunctioning. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s nothing.” There’s some shuffling on the other end of the line, and then Minho gasps and laughs. “I gotta go, dude. Good luck this weekend, bye!”

Before he can say anything in response, Minho hangs up, leaving Changbin staring blankly at the receiver. He slams it down on the phone and groans loudly. A few moments pass before he decides to turn his overhead light off, and turn his desk lamp on. 19:30. There was only a little bit longer before he wouldn’t be worried about calling Jeongin, so he stared down at the drawer of his nightstand.

“Just in case, right?” A nervous scoff left his lips as he whispered into the air.

He pulled out a small bottle of lube, and set it down next to the phone. Even if his conversation with Jeongin didn’t go the way he was hoping it would, he wouldn’t let himself fall asleep unsatisfied tonight. There was no way.

19:31.

Two minutes to go until—

The phone rang again, causing Changbin to jump in place, nearly out of his own skin. “What the fuck?” He shouted to himself as he picked up the receiver. “Dude, Minho, I get it, you don’t have to rub it in my face.”

“Changbin?” The other voice was decidedly not Minho. No, it was too familiar, yet unfamiliar all at once. Painfully new.

“Jeongin? How did you…?”

The younger man chuckled. “I was with Seungmin today. Told him about our conversation yesterday, and he thought it’d be fine if he gave me your number. Maybe call you a little earlier, throw you off your guard.”

Changbin scoffed and flopped down onto his bed unceremoniously. “Well, it worked.”

“Clearly.”

There was a bit of an awkward silence, and Changbin bit his lip, trying to think of what to say next. He had all of these great topics for conversation run through his head while he was at work, but now they were all gone, like they never existed. The only obvious option that came to him was about their date tomorrow. “About our date tomorrow,” he starts, aimlessly watching the second hand tick away on his alarm clock, “how are we gonna know how to find each other?”

Jeongin hummed a mindless tune for a moment, likely contemplating his plans. “Wait for me at the bar. I’ll be there, wearing a neon pink shirt. I’ve got freshly-dyed teal blue hair, so you might need to get your eyes checked if you miss me.”

A soft smile crawled its way up Changbin’s face. “That sounds eclectic.”

“Comes with who I am; the whole package deal is a little unconventional. Hopefully you can handle that.”

“Hmm,” Changbin hums, then tsks, “might be a little difficult. A neon-clad, blue-haired musician and a boring, black-haired librarian that only owns dark clothes. We’re gonna be quite the duo.”

“Come on,” Jeongin whines, “you’ve gotta have a little neon in that closet of yours.”

“Nope. You can be the neon, and I’ll be the night, since it’s neon night, after all. Yin and yang. Light and dark.”

There’s a soft chuckle on the other line. “Can’t have the day without the night, huh?”

“When you put it that way,” Changbin starts, but lets his voice trail off. Musicians sure seemed to be good with words. He couldn’t help but wonder, with a silver tongue like that, if Jeongin wrote the lyrics for the small punk group he was a part of. Come to think of it, a punk bassist in neon was an interesting mental image, almost some sort of visual dissonance.

“What are you wearing?” Jeongin pulls Changbin from his thoughts, voice a bit lower than it was prior.

The question perplexed Changbin as he mentally thumbed through the clothes in his closet. “I dunno, probably my Bad Religion t-shirt so I’m noticeable and some ripped skinny jeans. Think it roughly fits the non-neon aesthetic. Is that fine?”

“Perhaps I should’ve phrased that better.” A laugh. “That’s not what I meant.”

Changbin knots his eyebrows together and cards a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what you mean, then. I figured it would fit for the location, and—“

“I meant right now.” The bluntness in Jeongin’s statement is jarring.

“Oh.” Changbin can’t manage much else, his brain slowly grinding its gears around as he tried to get back into the right mental space for… this.

This was really fucking happening. Not just a delusional fantasy he had hoped for.

He must have taken too long thinking about it, because Jeongin frantically starts stuttering on the other line. “Wait, no, sorry,” he starts, “that was abrupt. I’m sorry, like, shit, we’ve barely spoken for more than an hour to each other and I’m already trying to pull something like this and I probably just came off as—“

“What do you want me to wear right now?” It comes out a bit too naturally, too smoothly off of Changbin’s tongue, like it was obvious he wanted to see where this would go.

A beat passes. “Ideally?” Jeongin quietly whispers, shuffling a bit on his end. “I’d want you naked. But I don’t think I want you there yet.”

Changbin’s heart was about to beat out of his chest and his dick responded in kind, slowly pressing up against his briefs more and more as his blood coursed through his veins. “Not yet, you say? How come?”

“I don’t like instant gratification. If you can’t work for it, what’s the point?”

“Interesting. Am I working for it, or are you?” Changbin’s free hand slips down to the hem of his shirt, playing with a loose string, rolling it nervously between his thumb and index finger.

Jeongin hums. “Tonight? I don’t usually do this, since I like to be the one in control, but it’s been so long, I’ll make an exception.”

In the seven years that Changbin had been an adult, he had only tried phone sex once, and it was awkward. Chan was in northern California for work, and they were both drunk and lonely. They tried to make it work, but the pacing was off, the phrasing was awkward, especially since Chan didn’t try to experiment with dirty talk, and they ended up falling asleep on each other.

This, though, simply felt different and exciting.

“What if I don’t want you to be naked?” Changbin tugged harder at the string, starting to rip it from the hem, slowly unravelling it and ruining the stitching of his shirt. It didn’t matter, he hardly noticed. He could tear his shirt apart completely and he still wouldn’t have cared.

“Seems like you like to make people work for it, too.” Jeongin shuffled on the other line again, his voice a bit clearer, like he was closer to the phone. “Maybe you like to do questionable things in questionable places. I don’t know you well — at all, actually — but I just get this feeling about you. The quiet ones are always the fun, adventurous ones.”

“It must be true, then.” Changbin pauses to take in a breath, to calm his nerves over what he was about to say to a stranger over the phone. “I thought about you today while I was working on a catalogue for our archives. It’s a boring, thoughtless job sometimes, allows me to have a lot of time to let my mind wander. I was leaning up against the desk, pen in hand, and all I could think about was how pretty your voice would sound as I slowly fucked into you, made you beg to me to go faster, but I’d just slow down.” The string detached from Changbin’s shirt, yet he continued to roll it between his fingers.

Jeongin’s breathing started to pick up on the other end. “What else?”

Changbin discarded the string haphazardly and nestled the receiver in the crook of his neck, shuffling his shorts and briefs down just enough for his dick to spring out. “I’d bite the back of your neck all the way up your ear. Tell you to stay quiet, since you were being too loud and whiny, that you’d be the reason we’d get caught.”

“Yeah,” a pant, “can’t have us getting caught. It’d be quite a rush, getting fucked by the hot, nerdy librarian when he’s supposed to be working.”

He couldn’t take it anymore. Changbin grabbed the bottle of lube from the nightstand, haphazardly squirting some of it all over his crotch, somewhat missing his dick in his rush. “The only thing I’d be working would be your cock in my hand. Make you whine, make you fucking miserable as I bring you so close to coming but keep you hanging, begging for me to let you come.” He tossed the bottle on to the floor, then mopped up some of the stray lube off of his stomach, then moved to stroke himself a bit hastily. It had been so long, and to actually have an intimate connection with another human being, albeit over the phone, was enough excitement to have him close to the edge already.

Jeongin must have had a similar idea, because his laboured breathing comes over the line in a constant rhythm. “Maybe I don’t wanna take it slow.”

“Maybe I don’t care.”

“Oh,” the other man sounded a bit shocked, gasping quietly. “You’re interesting, mister sexy librarian. What if I decided to push back? Literally? Bring my hips back up against yours, grind my ass up on you and make you whine and make you fucking miserable?”

“Shit,” Changbin growled, not expecting that kind of reaction. “I might have to grab you by the hair, push you down into the desk and give a needy little brat like you exactly what you want.” The thought was almost too much. He knew he was getting close; he should’ve slowed the pacing down with his hand, but he couldn’t stop. Instead, he was increasing his pace and tightening the grip at the top of his hand a bit more. “How would you like that?”

“Fuck,” Jeongin sounds like he’s completely lost in the moment, breathing erratic and letting full gasps and moans escape now. It sounded like some sort of wildly inappropriate choral music. “Changbin, that’s so fucking hot. I wish this was your hand around me instead. It feels so good, but it’s not enough.” Changbin lets out a choked whine, lost in the thought of what Jeongin looked like as he jerked himself off. “Ah, Changbin, I need you so badly. To feel you around me, inside me, and I—“

Suddenly, the light on the edge of Changbin’s desk went out and Jeongin’s voice went silent. The ambient humming that usually filled his apartment was dead. It appeared as if his part of LA got wrapped up in a sudden blackout, since everything everywhere was dark and quiet.

This couldn’t have come at a more horrible time.

Changbin let out an exasperated, desperate yell in frustration. As he angrily tossed the receiver to the side, causing the entire phone to go flying, he stared up at the ceiling in the darkness and swore that he was never going to try phone sex again.

Zero for two. Phone sex was cursed.

Even though today was the day that Changbin was finally going to meet Jeongin for their date, he was in an absolutely dreadful mood. Sure, after the power went out for the entire night, he had managed to get himself off, but it was lacklustre and nowhere near as good as he was anticipating it to be with his conversation with Jeongin. The pathetic way that the younger man mewled his name followed him like a shadow all day, echoing in the space between his ears all day.

“Changbin,” the voice taunted him, “I need you so badly.”

He groaned and leaned up against his archive desk, not even bothering to try to pay attention to his work. There was no way he was going to get anything done while he was too distracted thinking about fucking this stranger up against it, pushing his face into the mass of open books and large parchment. They would knock off all of the paraphernalia, pens clattering like raindrops against the ground, sound being absorbed by the walls of books surrounding them. God, how good it would be to hear his name coming from those lips one more time.

“I wish this was your hand around me instead.”

His eyes lulled to the corner of the table, pushing up his glasses to better focus on a cheap digital clock showing 15:40 in bright red lights. “Goddammit,” Changbin grumbled to himself and let his head collide against the open book in front of him. The tension in his slacks was causing time to inch by impossibly slow, like he was stuck in molasses. He had less than five and a half hours to go until he would finally meet the man the engrossed his entire mind for the past 48 hours and he couldn’t wait to give Jeongin a taste of the thoughts that consumed him.

Only a bit over five hours, now. He could do this.

Changbin had to have mentally pored over his entire appearance several times as he showered. Glasses? No, those would just be a nuisance; it’d be best to just suffer with a little bit of blurry vision for distant things. Besides, he was going to be seeing crazy shit halfway through their date, if they hit it off well enough to trip together.

So, no glasses. One thing off the list.

After his shower, Changbin thumbed through his closet, lost in a sea of black and indigo clothing, with a couple of odd white button up shirts that were frequently ignored. His graphic shirts were towards the left-hand side, reserved for his days off and the nights he’d go out with Minho and Seungmin, where he tried to look as normal as possible, and not like the dweeby librarian everyone knew him to be. It took several flicks of the thumb, but he eventually found the Bad Religion shirt he promised he was going to wear. That, and the torn up black skinny jeans he already had on his bed, were the only things Jeongin had to go off of.

Changbin was desperately hoping that Jeongin would find him in the sea of people that would be there. If this date flopped, he was going to hide for weeks in embarrassment, showing up to something so high energy looking like a black cloud of doom and gloom and dateless. The first half of that was tolerable, but to be dateless after all of that would be devastating to his ego.

Thankfully, Jeongin was going to be the visual antithesis to Changbin’s all-black attire. He was going to be like a dark cloud, a shadow to be passed over, and Jeongin would be that bright ray of vivid neon pink and teal blue. They’d be eyesores in their own rights, but it wouldn’t matter. Nobody would really be paying close attention to them tonight; neon nights were always the nights where people would get drugged out, smoke weed openly and fuck in the washrooms, and everyone would let go of their faux daily life personas and be carefree for one night.

It didn’t take long for Changbin to change into his outfit. He turned his head to look at his nightstand, squinting to make out the time on the clock. 19:52. All he needed to do was fuss over his appearance in the mirror while he would throw on some eyeliner. He would then fix his hair, gelling it into some sort of puffed out “just woke up” look that would just deflate after an hour of hanging around a humid, cramped environment packed with people. Maybe he’d wear those knee-high platform combat boots he only wore once to a concert a couple years ago.

First impressions were important, even if he knew he’d look like a mess at the end of the night. He wanted to prove to Jeongin that librarians could, in fact, be hot and sexy, even if it wasn’t in the conventional ways society would prefer.

The platform combat boots were a bad idea.

It wasn’t a far walk, but as Changbin waited in line outside of The Roxanne, he was constantly adjusting his feet and kicking the toes of his boots against the firm concrete of the sidewalk. He knew he’d be off of his feet soon enough, but getting to that point was proving to be brutal. The line slowly moved, people gradually being allowed in after paying the cover fee. Changbin flicked his arm, looking at the silver Royal Oak decorating his wrist, eyeing the time. 21:05.

He huffed, furrowing his brows and staring at the gunpowder grey backdrop of his watch. This was his lucky watch that his parents gifted him for graduating with his master’s degree last year. It was what he wore for his interview at UCLA, almost positive he wouldn’t get the entry-level librarian position he applied for, since it was heavily competitive, but he somehow managed to get it. It was the watch he wore when he and Minho signed for their shoddy apartment. It was what he wore when he gained the courage to call Jeongin.

Maybe superstition was stupid, but Changbin really wanted to put all of his cards on the table and risk believing in it tonight.

The line continued to shuffle forward, and Changbin’s nerves started to really consume him. On the outside, he tried to look cool and composed, his thumbs gently tucked into the belt loops of his pants, shoulders tucked back, head propped upright. Internally, however, he was very much the opposite of the cool-guy persona he was putting on. If he could scream and still be seen as sane, he absolutely would.

Another couple of steps. Changbin pulled out his wallet from his back pocket, sliding out his driver’s licence and a fiver as he approached the sturdily built man that stood outside of the front door. The man didn’t bother looking at his licence and just took the bill from him. They exchanged no words, the man just tilting his head towards the door, and Changbin simply walked in.

His fingers trembled a bit as he anxiously jammed his licence back into his wallet, exchanging it for a ten-dollar-bill, and returned the billfold to his back pocket. A long sigh escaped his lips as scanned the room, seeing no one with teal hair and a bright pink shirt as he approached the bar, finding a spot where he could keep an eye on the front door. He waved down one of the bartenders, who glided over towards him on her skates as she smiled at him.

“Hey there, what can I get ya?” She smiled at him, excitedly tapping her hands on the wooden countertop.

Changbin passed her the cash and shrugged. “A gin and tonic is fine. I don’t care what kind of gin you use.”

“You got it,” she skated away, off to make his drink.

Again, Changbin looked down to his watch. 21:21. The lights flickered off nine minutes early, UV lighting illuminating the entire rink, save the halogen lights by the washrooms, entrance, and most of the bar. The bartender returned with Changbin’s drink and his change.

“Quinine sure is fascinating, ain’t it? I love anything with tonic water on neon nights. Lemme know if you need anything else, buttercup.” She smiled, then skated away to her next customer before Changbin could make any sort of commentary. He stared wildly at his drink, literally glowing in a nuclear shade of blue, wondering if it had been adulterated. Quinine. He recognized the word from one of his organic chemistry texts from university, but the details of it escaped him.

Fuck it. Might as well just drink it.

He fumbled the cash into his right pocket, not bothering to stuff it back into his wallet. There was no way he was going to stand up in these fucking shoes unless he absolutely had to. Another glance to his watch. 21:24. Changbin grumbled under his breath, bringing the glass cup to his lips, biting the plastic straw between his teeth as he sucked up some of the toxic-looking liquid and he looked to the door. The drink nearly went everywhere as his eyes went wide and he saw a human glow stick walk in.

Neon pink shirt. Hair as violently blue as his own drink, topped with a purple beret. This was his human glow stick. It was fucking Yang Jeongin, actually here, in the flesh. Changbin didn’t even try to doubt it.

The black-haired man dipped his head down in nervousness, his heartbeat thrumming so loudly, it overtook the music being played over the loud speakers behind him. He had gotten this far, but Changbin had no idea what to do now. These men had essentially fucked over the phone just the night prior — well, they had attempted to, for all intents and purposes.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

How do people do blind dates? In the six years he spent studying research and analysis, he never came across something like this in his texts and papers. The countless nights he spent researching the human connection and other psychological and sociological theories had meant jack shit when it actually came to experiencing them in person. If his hair wasn’t well-coiffed, Changbin would be nervously running his fingers through his hair and biting off every single fingernail he could. It had been years since he dated, and this could go very poorly.

Something inside of him compelled him to look again. Perhaps the human glow stick was a figment of his imagination, the wrong person. Something. Anything. Anyone other than Yang Jeongin. Changbin sucked down another large swig of his drink, and turned his head slightly, and saw that the glow stick was scanning the bar. Changbin was about to turn away out of nervousness when they made eye contact.

He hadn’t consumed any questionable substances other than a couple sips of his drink, but it was like a fire had been set alight within him, burning away some of his anxiety and replacing it with a sense of confidence. That was definitely Jeongin, the gaze they exchanged with each other left no room for question.

The younger man smiled, biting his lip as he excitedly trekked up to Changbin. He stopped in front of him, gazing down at the older man’s shirt, then wiggling a bit in joy as he opened his mouth.

“Please tell me you’re Seo Changbin, otherwise you’re going to be very disappointed tonight.”

“Well,” Changbin couldn’t help but half-smirk with a bit of a cocky arrogance he didn’t know he had. He set his drink down on the bar and leaned on his elbow, slowly looking up at the neon-clad man. “That depends on who’s asking, don’t you think?” He used the first words Jeongin spoke at him against him, and the younger man giggled.

“Yang Jeongin, at your service. Raspberry beret included. Still the best year in music this decade.” The blue-haired man winks and leans in close, very close to the older man, as he then rests his arms on the countertop, flagging down the same bartender as before. She nods and starts working on a drink without even talking to him. The young man sits back on his heels and boldly slaps a hand on Changbin’s thigh. He moves in, right up next to the black-haired man’s ear, lips practically touching it as he lowers his voice to a whisper. “You know, Changbin, librarians aren’t supposed to be hot and sexy, but man, am I glad I’ve been proven wrong.”

Changbin may have been nervous as all hell just a few minutes ago, but now he had a sneaking feeling that maybe, just maybe, this date was going to work out after all.

The two of them share a couple of drinks at the bar, really hitting it off. Jeongin doesn’t lift his hand from Changbin’s thigh, which the elder doesn’t mind, slowly getting the courage to place his hand on top of it after their second drink. At some point, Jeongin sticks his tongue out in defiance, showing off a neon green tongue ring on bright display, and Changbin is impressed.

“I’m full of a lot of secrets, you know.” The younger man teases, aimlessly biting on his straw.

“I guess I’m gonna have to slowly unwrap you in order to find out all of those secrets, huh?” Thanks to the alcohol, Changbin’s a lot smoother than he thinks he is, realizing that the words sounded a lot less innocuous than he intended. He blinks rapidly and stumbles over his words. “Sorry,” he apologizes, then rubs his forehead with his free hand. “I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”

“That was a good pickup line,” the blue-haired man giggles into his drink, emptying the contents of the glass, then slamming it down on the counter. He takes his newly-freed hand and rests his head in his palm, happily smiling at the man in front of him. “Now what?”

Changbin gently sets his drink on the counter, then reaches into his left pocket, scooping up the dime bag from the other day, tucking it into the palm of his hand. “I got these from Seungmin the other day. Kind of a strange question, but,” he looks up to the younger man and licks his bottom lip, “you trust me enough to get a little tripped out?”

Jeongin excitedly shimmies his shoulders back and forth a couple of times. “You’re friends with Seungmin, so that’s good enough for me. Whatcha got on the menu for tonight, hmm?”

“Something pretty to go right up next to that tongue ring of yours.” Changbin takes his hand off of Jeongin’s, inconspicuously fiddling with the bag. He pulls out a small baby pink square of paper, briefly flashing it at the younger man. “I can take it first if you don’t trust me.”

Jeongin doesn’t say anything, only moving in a bit closer, and he sticks his tongue out, mouth wide open, everything shiny with saliva and on full display. He looks up to Changbin with pleading eyes and makes a little cooing noise.

Changbin let his eyes flutter shut for a brief second as he sharply inhaled through his nose and then shifted in his seat in mild discomfort. “You’re dangerous,” he whispered, eyes half-lidded as he grabbed Jeongin’s chin, lightly tugging him closer for a moment, as he pressed the paper onto the moist, warm tongue in front of him. “I’m ready to get burned with fire, though.” He wastes no time to pluck the second piece of paper from the plastic bag, pressing it against his own tongue. “Let everything chill out on your tongue for a while, alright?”

“You say that like you think I’ve never dropped acid before, dude.” The younger man smiled widely, then tugged at Changbin’s hand, pulling him up to his feet. “Let’s go get some skates and roll around while we wait.”

Changbin’s eyes went wide and his feet screamed at him as he was jostled upright. It was going to hurt, but it didn’t matter. A bit of discomfort would be worth it to see the joyful look on Jeongin’s face as they glided around on the polished floor, waiting for the colours to slowly meld together and wrap around them in a hazy, yet incandescent rainbow.

“Wait a second,” Jeongin cackles and drops the laces of his skates. “You mean to tell me you’re twenty-five and you’ve never been good at skating? Dude. Your childhood must’ve been boring as shit.”

“Come on,” Changbin drawls, sighing as he pouts at the younger man. “The only physical activity I really like is weightlifting, and that’s not even a frequent hobby of mine. I’d rather get baked after work and listen to records while laying on the floor.” The two men stare at each other for a minute, then burst into laughter.

“Alright, I can see you getting baked, but weightlifting? As if, man.” Jeongin shakes his head and bends back down to finish tying his laces. “Librarians aren’t supposed to be buff and shit, that’s not how that works at all.”

A sarcastic huff escapes Changbin’s lips. He drops to the floor, grabbing Jeongin’s hands and looking up to the younger man, his face getting dangerously close, close enough to almost brush their lips together. They stare at each other for a moment, the air stilling around them, before the older man moves to touch their cheeks together, lips against Jeongin’s ear. “You also said librarians aren’t supposed to be hot, but I proved you wrong with that, too.” Changbin lets go of Jeongin’s hands, moving them to dance his fingertips against the top of the neon man’s thighs. “Let me see how many times I can prove you wrong tonight.”

Jeongin lets out a shaky gasp, pressing his cheek up against the older man’s, moving in close as if he was about to kiss him, but Changbin pulls away too quickly, winking at him before he moves down to help tie his laces. “God,” the younger man sighs, throwing his head back and subtly rolling his hips in his chair to readjust, “you’re a tease, man. That’s not fair.”

“Life’s not fair sometimes. Gotta have the dark to appreciate the light.” Changbin smirks to himself as he finishes knotting the laces in his hands. He makes his way to his feet, awkwardly stumbling a bit before he reaches his hands down in front of Jeongin. “Shall we?”

Jeongin takes one of Changbin’s hands and helps himself upright. “Awfully confident for someone who can’t skate.” He smiles, then gently tugs the older man towards the open air of the entrance of the rink.

Changbin sucks air in through his teeth as he starts to move, flailing his free hand a bit as he awkwardly shuffles his feet to help him move with a bit more purpose. They step on to the glossy hardwood floor, and Jeongin spins around, skating backwards as he pulls Changbin along. He reaches out for the older man’s other hand, which Changbin carefully reaches down and grabs. They interlace their fingers together, staring longingly at each other.

“I trusted you with the acid,” Jeongin says at a volume just loud enough to carry over the song roaring through the speakers, “now trust me with the skating, yeah?”

Changbin nods, his face slightly wrinkled up in nervousness. He bites his lip, starting to get the hang of the way they slid around the floor, only having some issues with the rounded corners. People were flying past them, but it didn’t matter. The only thing Changbin wanted to focus on was Jeongin.

“You’re getting it,” the younger man smiled, standing totally upright and pulling the older man closer to him, maybe just a few centimetres away from each other. They smile softly at one another, slowing down a bit as Changbin started to get lost in the way the brilliant lighting warmed against Jeongin’s face, highlighting his high cheekbones and his soft lips.

There was nothing more that Changbin wanted than to kiss those lips.

As he was leaning in, Jeongin let go of his hands. “You teased me earlier,” he scoffed, “now you’ve gotta earn that kiss.” He looks over his shoulder, then turns back and smiles. “You’ve gotta make one full loop around: from the entrance and back. Then you’ll have earned that kiss from me.”

Changbin opens his mouth to protest, flailing around a bit, and Jeongin winks and practically flies away on his skates. He grits his teeth and huffs. “I’m gonna show you, goddammit.” The black-haired man frowns in determination, getting bolder with each stride he takes. Jeongin loops around again when he’s about halfway through, sticking his tongue out and blowing him a kiss as he spins around and jumps up into the air, landing perfectly back onto his feet. The younger man is off in a flash again, a trail of pink following him as he rolls away.

Oh. Changbin shakes his head as he comes around a corner. The acid had started to kick in and things got a little brighter, colours blurring together in the distance, lazily trailing around in a stutter as he moved around. He stared at the entrance of the rink, maybe fifty metres away, smiling to himself as he got closer and closer. At about twenty metres, Jeongin flew past him and veered off towards the wall, waiting with a smile.

As he approached Jeongin, Changbin intentionally didn’t slow down as much as he should have. He slowed a bit, and the younger man winced a bit and recoiled, preparing for a rough impact. However, the crash never came. Changbin pressed his hands into Jeongin’s chest as he got close, gently colliding against him, both of them landing against the wall.

They didn’t say anything. Changbin snaked a hand to Jeongin’s hip, and another up under his jaw, pulling it up into his. Their lips danced up against each others’, and there’s an electrical feeling that runs through Changbin’s veins, a spark between them. Their noses brush, nuzzling into the other as their lips open.

Jeongin tastes like lemon-lime soda and vodka, his tongue feeling almost like it was still covered in carbon dioxide as it rolled around Changbin’s. The older man digs his thumb into the younger man’s hip, causing a muffled squeak to roll up into his throat. An explosion of yellows and greens cloud Changbin’s vision as sounds start to translate into colours and haptic sensations.

It almost feels like they’re meant to be. Jeongin is the treble to Changbin’s bass. The light to his darkness. He is the neon glow stick to his dark, unlit candle. It may have been the drugs and the alcohol heightening everything, but from the way their humour complemented each other, to their oddities being so different yet similar, to the way that how sweet Jeongin’s kiss was against Changbin’s sour lips, everything was perfect.

“You’re perfect,” Changbin breathes into Jeongin’s mouth. “I don’t know why,” he pulls the younger man’s bottom lip gently between his teeth as he pulls away, staring up into half-open eyes, “but I just feel it.” The synth music beating along in the background practically pushes them closer, inviting them to stay wrapped up into one another.

Jeongin pushes back up against Changbin’s lips for a quick, hasty kiss that feels like electric pink and sparkling green. “It’s the drugs, but I’ll take the compliment.”

“I’m serious,” Changbin smiles at the sweetness of Jeongin’s lips against his again. “Like, your cheekbones. They’re so prominent, sharp, perfect. Your whole face just radiates brilliance. It’s like all of the colours dance off of your face and wrap it in this warm energy that demands attention.”

“Your lips are perfect,” Jeongin retorts with a laugh. “The way that your face wrinkles up when you smile. I wanna take that in, make you laugh for hours just to watch you scrunch your face together. Listen to the way your laugh staccatos discordantly against the music playing in the background.”

A warmth spreads in Changbin’s stomach, deep purples and pinks blending around the edges of his vision. It was time. He decides to finally bite the bullet, swallowing hard as he tries to keep his volume low enough for only Jeongin to hear him, “I wanna hear you say it again.”

There’s a short pause as Jeongin stills. “What’re you talking about?”

Changbin pushes Jeongin into the wall, rubbing his waist against the younger man’s. “Last night,” he trails his lips up Jeongin’s cheek, all the way up to his ear, “you told me you wanted me. Needed me.”

There’s a burst of orange as Jeongin laughs. “That’s right, isn’t it? Whatcha gonna do if I tell you that again, now that I have you here in my hands?” His hands quickly slap up against Changbin’s ass, grabbing it tightly. “We’re still in public, baby.”

A strangled moan accidentally comes from Changbin, feeling every nerve in his spine erupt in baby blues and jarring yellows at the younger man’s touch. “I don't care where we are. I’m gonna give you what you want,” he whispers, nibbling on the earlobe in front of him. “I’m going to steal you away, pull you away into the washroom, and I’m gonna fuck you up against the tiling or the wallpaper or whatever dingy shit they’ve got in there.”

It was like nobody was around, not that anyone was paying attention, anyways. The two of them ground up against each other, practically fucking as everyone went along with their lives around them. They were far from the only ones becoming so acquainted on the hardwood floor, but it didn’t matter. As far as Changbin was concerned, they were the only two people in the room, in the entire building, in the entire world.

“It’s tiling,” Jeongin whispers and bites Changbin’s ear, causing a neon rainbow, rippling in time to the music around them, to cloud his vision. “I let you take control over the phone last night, so I’m gonna do the fucking tonight. Come on.”

Changbin doesn’t have the wherewithal to protest as he’s dragged away by Jeongin, pulling them off towards the flickering, nauseatingly yellow-tinted halogen that illuminated the washroom door. Somehow, they had gotten lucky and nobody was in the entire washroom. They roll into the large stall towards the back. Jeongin locks the door behind them and pushes Changbin against the back wall, crashing their lips together.

The weird mixture of normal lighting with blacklight paints a strange picture against the back of Changbin’s eyelids. Each grazing of Jeongin’s teeth on his lips causes purple lines to streak down a backdrop of orange and crimson.

Warm. Jeongin was warm. Everything about him radiated warm colours and energy, even if his hair was the opposite of that.

Jeongin trails his lips down Changbin’s neck, and he grazes his teeth against the soft skin. “Wait,” the older man quietly protests, “don’t do anything that’ll leave a mark there.”

“Why not?” Jeongin looks up to the older man and smirks. “Afraid your coworkers and students are gonna find out you’re actually a bit of a freak who wants to get fucked in public?”

“Actually,” Changbin huffs, “kinda, yeah. Anything below the neck is fair game, though.

“I respect that.” Jeongin huffs, tugging the loose neckline of Changbin’s shirt down, exposing his collarbone. “Oh,” he pauses, cocking his head to the side. “781?”

Changbin hums, flushing in slight embarrassment, as he feels Jeongin’s eyes on his tattoo. “Dewey Decimal Classification. Music theory call number. That’s why there’s a treble clef next to it.”

“God, you’re such a fucking nerd. That’s hot as hell.” The younger man groans, then starts desperately sucking and biting up against the sensitive flesh.

Changbin doesn’t try to hide a needy whine at the sensation of Jeongin’s teeth against his skin. His hips roll up subconsciously, craving for some sort of stimulation against his growing erection. “Jeongin,” he whimpers, “I don’t wanna wait anymore.”

The younger man relinquishes the skin from his teeth. “Funny,” he says, standing up and looking down at the older man, pressing their hips together. “Neither do I.”

They wantonly kiss each other as they fumble with their pants. Jeongin tosses his beret to the floor, pulling out a condom and a small, travel-sized bottle of lube out from his back pocket. “As much as I love kissing those lips of yours and looking at your face,” he pulls away, quickly pressing a kiss to Changbin’s forehead, “this is gonna be a lot easier if you turn around.”

A nervous laugh bubbles up from Changbin as he somehow manages to roll around, pressing his hands up against the clammy tiling. He bends over slightly, pressing his hips against Jeongin’s crotch, eliciting a small groan from the younger man. Within a moment, thumbs are haphazardly tugging his waistband down, exposing his skin to the warm, open air.

“Your ass is really nice,” Jeongin takes in a quick breath and ghosts his fingers over the smooth skin.

“You say that now,” Changbin whispers as streams of green drift up from the corners of his vision, “but wait until you’re actually inside me.”

A desperate huff comes from Jeongin. “Fuck,” he groans, squeezing some lube on to his fingers and bringing his hand up to the older man’s perineum, dragging them up slowly to rub against his entrance. “I’ve been thinking about this nonstop since you told me you’d fuck me against your stupid work desk.” He coaxes a finger inside, and Changbin whines, rubbing his cheek against the dingy washroom tile. “I was ready to come right then and there. I didn’t know you’d be that much of a freak when Seungmin told me you were a librarian.”

Jeongin’s finger curls around a bit as he explores around, causing Changbin to let out soft little pants as his skin stretched against the finger. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he manages to grumble in between pants, “or how freaky I am. Maybe one day I’ll show you my collection of glass sex toys I keep hidden under my bed.”

Another finger slips in, and another moan loudly comes from the panting librarian. “Keep it down. Don’t wanna get kicked out with a hard-on, do you?” Changbin weakly nods, his eyes rolling back as he bites his lips and moves against Jeongin’s fingers. The younger man continues to stretch the sensitive skin as he gently rolls both of his fingers around, occasionally separating them in a scissoring-like motion.

Changbin bites back a loud, throaty moan, bringing his hand up to his mouth so he can bite on his knuckle. Colours rippled around in discordant patterns, roughly clashing up against each other, sparks of white popping up at random. “Jeongin,” he whines out, voice slightly muffled.

The younger man shudders at the sound of his name being uttered, and he slips his ring finger inside. As soon as the finger is completely inside of Changbin, the older man throws his head back and slips a bit on his skates. Jeongin grabs his hip tightly with his free hand. “Don’t worry, baby,” he whispers, in a soft, loving voice, “I’m not gonna let you fall. I’ll keep you safe right here, so let yourself go.”

Changbin’s hand leaves his mouth and slams up against the wall, curling his fingernails into the grout between the tiles. He closes his eyes tightly and loses himself in the sensation of being filled by three fingers, slowly working his way up to being prepared for whatever Jeongin’s dick was going to feel like inside of him. What he wasn’t prepared for, however, was when Jeongin’s middle finger curled up against his prostate and he arched his back in surprise.

“Jeongin,” he panted, rubbing his cheekbone into the tile, “fuck, there, right there.”

“Don’t worry,” the younger man reassures him, “all in due time. Trust me, a bassist knows what he’s doing when it comes to his fingers.”

“That’s,” Changbin pants again, “a terrible fucking pun.”

Jeongin rubs all three of his fingers in a circle, causing the older man to writhe under him. “Yeah, yeah,” he coos, “you don’t seem to actually be complaining, though.”

“I’m only gonna complain if you don’t shut up and fuck me here soon,” Changbin whines through gritted teeth. “I don’t wanna come unless it’s from your dick, alright?”

“Fine,” Jeongin grins, removing his fingers slowly, making sure to drag them down the walls of the sensitive skin around them. He pulls them out one by one, causing Changbin to twitch under him. Once his hand is free, he wrangles his cock from his pants, then rips the condom from the foil packet, sliding it onto him. He pulls the bottle of lube from his pocket, squirting a bit more onto his hand, stroking it on his cock. “You ready for me?”

“Yes,” Changbin turns his head, staring down Jeongin with half-lidded eyes. “I need you, Jeongin, please.”

The younger man smiles, then lines himself up against the elder’s entrance. “Whatever you want, babe.” Jeongin slides in, and the composure held in his face falters, lips parting and eyes rolling back a bit. His slick hand grabs Changbin’s other hip, digging his pinky and thumb tightly into his skin as he slowly makes his way completely inside. “Yeah, you were right. Your ass is much nicer now that I’m inside of you.”

“I know, I know. Jeongin, please, shut up and fuck me,” Changbin whines, rapidly panting as he’s filled. “I just wanna feel you fuck me senseless.”

“Needy,” Jeongin hisses through his teeth as he pulls back, then slams back into Changbin, the sound of skin against skin echoing throughout the tiling and linoleum, overtaking the muffled sounds of the electronica from the other room.

Everything felt and looked so much more vibrant thanks to the acid. Every thrust was another colour splattered up recklessly in Changbin’s vision. Sparks of light went flying every time Jeongin hit his prostate. Sex usually felt wonderful to Changbin; he wasn’t sure if it was because of the drugs specifically, or if it was Jeongin, or if it was both, but he was sure of one thing: this was an out-of-body experience. His mind was floating up in the sky, up along the stars, as if he was the main character in some bad science fiction space film.

“Jeongin,” he panted, continuing to cry out the younger man’s name like a mantra.

The blue-haired man panted heavily, taking the hand previously inside Changbin and wrapping it around his cock, stroking it in time with his thrusts. “You feel so good, baby, I’m gonna make a mess out of you.”

The colours in Changbin’s vision slowly started to turn white, ribbons of pink and blue in the shades of Jeongin wrapping around the edges of his sight. “Shit,” a throaty moan escaped his throat, “I’m gonna come, Jeongin, don’t fucking stop. Fuck, please don’t stop. Don’t stop. Ah, god, fuck, I—“

His back arched, fingernails dragging down the walls as Changbin tried, and failed, to keep himself from shouting Jeongin’s name at a loud volume. The younger man pumped him one last time, and cum splattered up against the wall, dripping down onto the floor, as the older man collapsed into the tiling.

“Fuck, that’s so good, you’re so good, Changbin,” he pulled back and then slammed into the older man one more time, curling into his back a bit, stabilizing his stance by gripping Changbin’s hip. He spilled his cum into the condom, and the two of them stood there and panted for what seemed like forever.

After several minutes, Jeongin pulled out, shakily standing back upright. “What the fuck was that, dude?” He laughed, and Changbin managed to stumble himself back up to a vertical position.

The older man rapidly blinked as he came back down from space, and he let out a long sigh. “Amazing, that's what that was,” he pulled his pants up from off of the floor, haphazardly fastening the button of his jeans together just enough. Changbin awkwardly rolls a bit, then pulls Jeongin into him by the neck, the two of them exchanging a warm, soft kiss with each other.

They kiss for only a moment or so. “We should probably clean up a little bit and then get out of here.” Jeongin chuckles once. “You kind of made a mess and I’m sure we probably scared off some people.

“You’re the reason I made that mess,” Changbin quips. “Besides, we’re not the only ones that have fucked in here tonight, I bet. We won’t be the last, either.”

After a bit of awkwardly shuffling around in skates, some commentary about never fucking in roller skates again, and a bit of cleanup, they emerge from the stall. Jeongin rolls over to the sink to wash his hands, smiling at Changbin through the mirror. “I think I’m gonna like you,” he says, and the older man makes eye contact with him through the mirror, then rolls up next to him.

“Yeah?” He presses a kiss up to the younger man’s cheek and adjusts the beret on his head. “You say that now, but wait until I go on a rant about the Library of Congress’ organizational system versus the Dewey Decimal Classification, or about how dumb university students can be.”

Jeongin turns his head and gently kisses Changbin’s lips as water drips down from his hands. “It’ll be cute, I bet. You had me hooked at listening to records and smoking weed while laying on the floor, but nerdy ranting? Icing on the cake, man.”

Changbin scoffs and grabs a couple of towels from the dispenser behind the younger man. “Stop dripping all that water over my skates, dude. Maybe you should come home with me and we can find out just how fun that all actually turns out to be.”

“I think that’s—“ Jeongin starts to speak, taking the towels from Changbin, until they’re distracted by the loud squeaking of the washroom door. They both turn to look at the noise, and Changbin’s not really sure if he’s imagining what he’s seeing due to drugs.

“Changbin?” The voice of the intruder sounds as shocked as Changbin feels.

“Chan?” Jeongin squints as his face as he looks at the man that walks in.

The three of them awkwardly stare at each other, and Changbin frowns. “You know him?” He asks Jeongin, who stares back at him with wide eyes.

Jeongin shrugs his shoulders. “It was, like, a year or so ago, but yeah. You slept with him, too?”

#roller rinks and raspberry berets #sks smut #skz fics #seo changbin x yang jeongin #yang jeongin x seo changbin #jeongbin #changbin x jeongin #jeongin x changbin #wherevermyway

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hcrringtonshair · 4 years

Text

Happy Birthday

I’m back! Finally I had time to post this thank god.

Summary: You celebrate your Birthday with your best friend Sebastian.

Word Count: 1,156

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x reader

Warnings: desperate friendzoned reader, fluff at the end

A/N: Inspired by a similar dream I had at the night before my birthday. Exactly 18 days ago I turned 22, so I couldn’t resist writing this (while I was drunk yes but I love it).

English isn’t my mother tongue so sorry for grammatical/spelling mistakes

Tell me if you like it, I appreciate every feedback!

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(not my gif)

A birthday was a big deal for the most of the people. Gifts, nice food and a party - that’s how nearly everyone was celebrating their special day.

On this cold day in January, where the sun shines the whole day but when it gets dark the clouds filled up the sky, you would celebrate another day of your birth.

It wasn’t like the other birthdays.

No big party and fifty guests who sit drunk in your apartment.

Just you, your two best friends (a couple) and Sebastian.

Sebastian was the person you know since ever, in your childhood there wasn‘t a day you didn’t saw each other.

He moved into a house next to yours and directly after the last box was in the house, you could see the both of us playing in the sandpit.

This all seems far away, there was a time when you didn’t saw each other for months, just like these days.

He was busy with becoming a famous actor, filming for months and travel around the world.

Today would be the first time you would see him again.

He finished one another movie and promised being back in NYC for your birthday.

It was already 7 pm, you were sitting on the table in your favorite bar.

Nearly every birthday you meet your friends here to celebrate.

Fingers tapping on the table as you watch your phone to check the time and the last message you received from Sebastian.

I‘ll be there in 10! Can‘t wait to see you again!

This was 30 minutes ago and every time you heard the door open you look up hopefully to see the familiar face.

“He‘ll come soon y/n. He promised.“ your best friend smiles at you, but you couldn’t miss the little pity in her eyes.

“Yeah I know.“ You muffle into your glass, the door opens again.

There he stands now, dressed in a plain black sweatshirt, trench coat, black jeans and boots.

Looking outrageous pretty he smiles as he arrived at your table.

“Hello Love, happy birthday.“ he takes you in his arms placing a small kiss on your head.

You smiled brightly while wrapping your arms around him, smelling his cologne makes your heart race and your cheeks burning red as his lips touched your forehead.

“You look amazing y/n.” His eyes wander from your head to toe.

“Thank you Seb. I’m so happy you made it. It wouldn’t be the same if you were not here.”

You both sit down after Sebastian greeted the others.

“Sure I’m here. I would never miss the birthday of the most important girl.”

You giggle into the palm of your hand, as he wraps one arm around your shoulders and you saw your friends watching you and Sebastian with big eyes.

“Do you have anything to tell us?” they asked.

“What shall we tell you?” You looked her with confused eyes.

“Are you two a thing?”

Your cheeks burning again and you felt Sebastian, besides you, tense.

“We’re best friends. Since ever.”

A little pain in your chest comes up as you heard Sebastian denying it.

You know each other for years, back in High School years you had a huge crush on Sebastian.

Then he gets his first Girlfriend and you your first Boyfriend.

But the feelings for him never disappear, you always searched for a guy who could make you feel the same as Sebastian does.

When he became an actor and had a few relationships with Co Actors you really tried to forget your feelings.

You had a long time relationship for 6 years, but he wasn’t Sebastian.

So since you were single again and you finally could spend a bit more time with Sebastian your feelings were stronger than ever.

“Yes. Best friends…” you hastily took a sip of your beer, the uncomfortable silence made you stare on the table.

“I think I’m gonna order some food.” Sebastian was watching at the menu.

You had started a conversation with your best friend and Sebastian with her boyfriend.

“I’ll take a cheeseburger and fries.”

You stand up.

“Where you’re going?” Six eyes watching up to you as you wrapped yourself into your jacket.

“Outside. I’ll be back soon.”

Smoking was the one habit you never could stop. You know about the risk for cancer and all that but you couldn’t stop.

Outside the bar your body was shaking because of the cold weather.

Watching the dark sky you couldn’t forget what Sebastian said.

We’re best friends. Since ever.

“Is everything’s fine?” You let out a short scream as your favorite voice was behind you.

Sebastian looked to the cigarette and in your eyes.

“Everything’s alright. Don’t worry about me.” You smiled softly watching the people who walk by.

“You sure? You were acting strange since-”

“It’s okay Sebastian. I got it, I’m the idiot who was looking forward to see you again today. I’m the idiot who had a crush on you in the high school and since ever then. But we’re best friends, I love my best friend and I hate it and maybe you hate me now”

The last sentence was only a whisper and you couldn’t stand his shocked look so you’re watching your shoes.

Your hearts pounding heavy in your chest, your heavy breath was the only thing you heard besides the blood rushing noise in your ear.

You didn’t know why you told him this now, that he never noticed your feelings. The surprising self-confidence and sudden surge of emotions from yourself let you blush.

You know you destroyed this friendship right at this moment.

“But why… why you didn’t tell me? It could be so much easier.“

You heard him shortly laughing and the palm of his hand on your cheek to raise your head.

You only saw him through a blurry view, your eyes filled with tears because you‘re afraid to lose him now.

“Y/n you’re not an idiot. You’re the most wonderful woman in this world and I could never hate you.”

He stepped forward, you head lean against his chest his eyes on watches yours.

“But you’ll never love me in the way I love you.”

Your voice was muted through the fabric of his coat, warm tears leaving your eyes and disappear in his sweatshirt.

“I do already. I’m sorry I never told you, maybe because of the same reason. We know each other for so long and I didn’t want to risk this. You were the only one who always stayed with me. You always supported me and I know that I can count on you.”

He raises your head with one hand the other one grabs yours.

“May you give us a chance?“

His face was so near you could feel his warm breath on your face, his eyes staring into yours.

“Absolutely yes.” A bright smile appeared on your face.

“Happy Birthday babe.”

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan one shot #my writing #the winter soldier #bucky barnes #mcu #birthday os #Sebastian Stan os #kingbuckyxwriting

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