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burnyouwithacigarettelighter · 8 months

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TAKE YOU DOWN A PEG ─── neil lewis ✧𖦹

ೃ⁀➷ “I want you. Your bones. Your body heat. The bite marks your teeth leave. To see how bad and beautiful those eyes look beneath me." — Beau Taplin.

pairing. sub!neil lewis x reader

summary. gumshoe video’s got a rude customer who neil can’t seem to ban…

warnings. swearing, voyeurism, unprotected sex, creampie, p in v, semi-public sex, breathplay, oral sex (m), cockwarming, degradation/insults, SMUT UNDER THE CUT!

word count. 5.3k

a/n. the hardest thing about writing this was scouring letterboxd for obscure films that i think neil would foam over. pls don’t beat me to death if my film references miss the mark 😭

Neil loves his job. Seriously, seriously, he does. It's completely self-satisfying, his personal passion project that’s taken up a large amount of his life, and brings him the uttermost joy of allowing him to do what he does best: recommend films.

Gumshoe Video is like his fucking baby, and he takes care of it, immensely; he wipes down every tape every Sunday, he sweeps the floor and rearranges the furniture, he organizes the tapes almost constantly, and he does his hardest to provide stellar, passionate - if almost annoying - film advice. He wants the reviews up on this place, alright, otherwise it feels like he’s letting his baby down.

Now, if there’s one thing Neil hates about his job, just one minor, teensy weensy thing, it’s probably you. You, the rude customer who came in three months ago and has come in everyday since.

The day you and Neil Lewis met was one just like the rest. Gumshoe Video was promoting old spaghetti westerns; Neil was wearing a cowboy hat and opening deliveries from a video tape shop in Calabasas that had closed down; you were coming off work and were daydreaming, dizzily entering shops to get your mind off the irritatingly mundane job you had. Unlike Neil, you fucking hate your job.

You had entered Gumshoe, browsing lazily through the Film Noir section, when Neil sprung up like a weed behind you, speaking animatedly about how the best film noir’s had to be Casablanca, Sunset Boulevard, or Double Indemnity, and if you’d ever watched them before.

As Neil blabbered on, your left eyebrow became increasingly raised. Finally having enough of him, you spoke. “So, are you one of those guys that talk all over the girl and ask them if they’ve ever seen Citizen Kane, or if I can even name five Ingmar Bergman movies for you?”

Neil spluttered, flustered with being confronted about his obsessive cinephile talking habit of carrying the conversation away like a track runner in a relay race going off with the baton in the wrong direction. “What? I was just —“

“— name dropping film noir’s, ‘cause I’m some ditzy, uncultured bimbo bitch who mistakenly walked in, right?” You said, rolling your eyes. Later, in retrospect, you’ll wonder if you were too rude; then, you’ll remember you don’t give a fuck, you were having a bad day, and Neil Lewis had one hell of an annoying face.

Neil’s face grew offended, an irritated furrowed brow wiggling onto his features. “If you don’t want to watch what I recommend, you don’t have to!” he exclaimed, arms up placatingly in the air.

“Uh huh, okay, and you don’t have to shove your pretentious cinephile knowledge up my ass.”

He just stared at you, boring his bright blue eyes into your own, face contorted so exasperatedly you might as well have climbed up to the stars, plucked the moon from the sky, and used it as a pillow.

My god, Neil thought. Are you just a rude customer? Or did you get off on berating small businesses like a sadistic freak?

After a moment of you two staring each other down in the fluorescent artificial light of Gumshoe, both looking terribly affronted, you left.

Neil would then rant about this “insane customer” for at least twelve hours straight to anyone who’d liste. The next day, the distasteful experience was extremely close to thereby fully exiting his mind, but didn’t, because you, yes, you, walked in again.

You shot straight daggers with your eyes at Neil, but your expression became soft, demure, and gentle when you saw Jonathan manning the register instead. You trailed through the aisles unperturbed, Jonathan too busy sporting a hangover from working the late shift at that obscure speakeasy copycat bar (in which, as often as possible, he would sneak a shot to stay awake) to recommend films.

In any case, that was Neil’s job, and Jonathan leaned over to whisper in his ear: “Neil, man, do me a favor and please distract that customer -- fuck, this headache’s killing me…”

Neil protested, shaking his head rapidly. “That’s her.”

“Her who?”

“Her! The - customer who -- who yelled at me!”

Jonathan blinked blearily, clearly still too incapacitated to think about the matter much. “She yelled at you… and she’s back. Here. And why exactly is that…?”

“To yell at me s’more, probably!” Neil whisper-shouted incredulously.

Suddenly, you broke Neil and Jonathan out of their not-so-quiet argument by slamming down Gumshoe Video’s copies of Casablanca, Sunset Boulevard, and Double Indemnity. The irony did not miss Neil - honestly, it was a little on the nose, even for him.

“Thought I’d see what all the rage was.” you explained “sweetly”, gesturing to Neil as you spoke, indignation seeping through your every word. Your grudge was, well, mostly unexplained, ‘cept for the fact you yourself were an avid cinephile, had watched those three movies more than you could count, and did not take Neil’s “have you watched these before” kindly.

Thus started you and Neil’s long-winded rivalry slash animosity slash terribly caustic back-and-forth correspondence.

You keep coming to Gumshoe Video, because, despite your anger towards Neil, you fucking adore the place. The films are downright amazing, the atmosphere is like fucking heaven with the walls lined full of video tapes, decorated in classic film props, campy lifesize cardboard cutouts making you jump at every turn, and Gumshoe Video’s concept is insanely different (and lightyears better) than the corporate monolith that is Media Giant.

He keeps coming to Gumshoe Video because, again, Neil loves his job, and treats Gumshoe like he carried it for nine months and has been lovingly raising it for the five years it's been open.

From that first incident, you and Neil’s relationship twisted a little into something like this: you come in, insult him on whatever costume he’s wearing, return the tapes you rented the other night, argue with him for exactly an hour and a half on the couch, insult him for another ten as you browse the store, ignore his film recommendations, and rent three more movies.

He waits for you to enter, wears the ugliest costume he owns to visually assault you, gladly takes the tapes back, argues with you for 1 and ½ hours, fires back retorts as you insult him, recommends movies he thinks will make you jump out your apartment window, and gives you your movies.

You’re the minor, teensy weensy headache Neil experiences everyday, but at least, at the very least, Gumshoe makes daily dollars from your rentals - kinda like the payback or relief fund a town gets after a hurricane’s run through it.

But, (somewhat?) shamefully… there’s a reason Neil doesn’t just ban you from the store and live his life without ever thinking of you again.

This reason occurred to him a month ago, when he was in the backroom, pasting barcodes and information stickers on tapes that were yet to be placed in the store. You were looking for the washroom, awkwardly stumbling through the back hallway of Gumshoe Video, and since you couldn’t find Neil — he, in spite of the nature of your relationship, trusted you to look around and rent the tapes by yourself, having done it several times while arguing with him at the counter — you had to brave through it alone.

Now, the thing about the room Neil was in — more of a shoe closet than a room, honestly — was that it was locked from the outside, and he didn’t have the key. The key was currently in the hands of one Lucien, who had gone to buy takeout for the two of them because of the late night cataloging of new tapes ahead of them.

And… he was taking about a hundred years to come back because he was trying to get the cashier’s number at their usual Chinese restaurant.

Anyway, imagine this: you’re looking for the washroom, and the door to a small room is propped open. You enter, don’t think much of the small stack of empty tape boxes acting as a door stopper, and let it close. The light in there is dim, just a shitty little ceiling light; Neil turns, tapes in his hand; you turn, after closing the door.

Finally, remember: the room is more of a shoe closet than a room.

“Jesus -- christ!” Neil yelped, startled at your sudden appearance. “What -- the hell are you doing here?”

“I take it this isn’t the bathroom?” You murmured, ignoring his question and shifting uncomfortably. Seriously, the tape closet was only meant for one person in it at a time.

If the lights were brighter, you would’ve seen how hard Neil rolled his eyes; they almost rolled out of his head. “Well, I don’t think so, given the lack of toilet, sink, and light, no.”

“Well, Neil,” you purred, hot breath curling around the sensitive skin of his neck, “maybe, just maybe, you should have a sign for the bathroom, so I don’t have my tits any closer to your face than I want them to.” You said this sweetly, voice husky, low, and oddly sultry, but Neil knew better than that: you probably wanted to fucking kill him right now.

You were right, though; your tits were flush Neil’s bandy chest, the heat between you two growing the longer you were this close in proximity.

“Now get me out of here,” you said quickly after, ignoring how warm Neil felt against your body. You’d turned so your back faced him, hands twisting at the silver knob of the door - which, Neil honestly didn’t know why was there, considering it didn’t fucking work.

Neil sighed. “The door locks from the outside.”

“What?” You said, distracted by leaning down to press your weight against the door like it was just sticky. Moments later, “…What?” you all but shrieked, hands falling from the knob, turning to face him once more.

And, again, if the lights were brighter you’d have seen Neil’s face better: he was bright fucking red, because, apparently not accounting for the small space of the room, you’d leaned and obliviously had your ass pressed right against him. It didn’t help that his large, warm hands, having long since dropped the tapes he was labeling, hung near the flesh of your rear, having nowhere else to go in the limited space.

Neil thanked the small mercy God graced upon him that there wasn’t any kind of friction, so his soft cock remained just that: soft, and barely noticed by you.

“The door locks from the outside.” Neil repeated breathlessly, the amount of air in the shoe-box room being incredibly small, too small to share between the two of you.

“Fucking…” You cursed under your breath, shaking your head in disbelief. “So, what, we have to stay here ‘till someone busts us out? What’re you gonna do if I go batshit and eat you or something?”

“For one, Lucien isn’t going to take that long to come back. Anyway, why’re you assuming you’ll overpower me - what if I go batshit and tear into you?”

You snorted, like the connotation he could overpower you was completely implausible. “Neil, Neil, Neil,” you repeated nonsensically, before lifting a hand up to his shoulder and digging your nails into him, the fabric of his shirt obviously not thick enough to distort your strength. “I could have you pinned down in less than a minute. I do other things than watch movies all day, unlike your lanky ass.”

Neil merely let out a chagrined laugh in response, hands clammy at the thought: you pinning him down— he then shook himself mentally, about to slap himself upside the head. Fucking hell, this situation was doing things to him.

“You don’t believe me?” You retorted with a raised brow. Swiftly, your hands curled around Neil’s wrists, pinning them behind him and pressing his back against you. “How about now, huh?” you whispered softly in his ear, making his head swim.

Your chin rested on his shoulder, your nose brushing against his neck, and it took everything in Neil not to let out a breathy keen — this was all too much for him: your touch, your voice, and the apparent dawning on him that he found you terribly, massively, attractive.

“Fuck, I, er - - um,” Neil scrambled for a response, when the door to the tape closet suddenly opened. Your hands released him immediately, and you strided out, breathing in deeply.

On the other side stood Lucien, plastic takeout bag in one hand, closet key in the other. “What happened to you?” he asked confusedly, as Neil filed out after you, gaze trained on your stretching figure walking off.

“We got, uh -- locked, in the- in the tape closet.” Neil murmured, thoughts still fuzzy from your rough touch.

“With her?” Lucien shuddered, handing Neil the chinese takeout bag sympathetically. “You need this food more than I do.”

So, there it was. Neil’s reason. He would’ve called you an insufferable bitch that he never wanted to see enter Gumshoe Video ever again hundreds of times by now — if your sensual voice insulting him didn’t get him all tight in the pants.

He began having thoughts — thoughts of you. You, whispering vulgar, humiliating words in his ear, your hands carding his hair, pulling tight against his scalp, selfishly making him do whatever you wanted him to do, no matter his pleas.

The fantasy was unlike anything Neil had dreamed up before, having always believed it should be him on top, him controlling the situation, him dominating — but it wasn’t a bad one. He’d come faster than he ever did before, just by imagining you were rolling your hips into his own… your strength pinning him down… your lips brushing past the shell of his ear, telling him he was so fucking dirty, so filthy for being this needy.

However, that was all just a vague, distant pipedream, especially with how you seem to actually hate him. All the interaction he’d had with you consisted of poisonous, irritated words, insults and curses — which had him feeling both incredibly turned on, and sick at the fact he was attracted to you just by being mean to him.

Sometime after that, nearing the end of the work day, Neil was the only one left there: Jonathan had taken the morning shift, and Lucien was, surprisingly, on a date with the cashier at their usual Chinese restaurant place. Looks like he succeeded in getting her number, while Neil had been pressed against you in that tiny tape closet, moments away from getting a hard-on.

So, Neil was the only one there - and you were the only customer there. Your daily routine of stopping by and verbally attacking him was late today, so it was nearing midnight when you and Neil sat on the couch and began arguing.

“I’m sure your “manly” ego isn’t at all pathetic and easily hurt by the superiority of Mia Farrow’s performance in Rosemary’s Baby.” You spat, leaning into the diverse array of old throw pillows that sat on the couch day after day.

Neil rolled his eyes, hands up in the air animatedly. “My manly ego - and I don’t enjoy the sarcasm nor the air quotes you’re using - isn’t pathetic, nor easily hurt! Mia Farrow just wasn’t better than John Cassavetes was. I stand by the fact they were equal.”

You let out a disbelieving laugh, your hand coming down on Neil’s knee to dig into him angrily. “Neil, I don’t expect you to understand her performance - I don’t think anyone does, not with that little cinephile brain you have. Do you do any thinking up there, or is it just The Treasure of the Sierra Madre on rewind?”

Neil flushed, both at the insults and how your hand was on his fucking leg. “What about you? What is it that makes you keep coming back here if you think my opinion is so… worthless and entitled?”

You grit your teeth, leaning in closer to him. “Because, Neil, this is the only other video tape shop for miles, and I will not be caught dead at Media Giant. Trust me, I despise this - “arrangement” of ours, far more than you do.”

He huffed, his gaze trailing over your features, unable to come up with a response: he was too busy focussing, trying not to zero in on how your face was inches away from one his, your fingers oddly inching up his thigh.

“Don’t go making this about me. Why is it,” your continued, hands traced dizzying circles into the fabric of his jeans, “that you don’t just kick me out? I come in here, day after day, berating you, ignoring your recommendations… shouldn’t I have been banned a long time ago?”

Neil gulped. “You’re still a - a customer, one who rents daily I might add—“

You smirked up at him. “Don’t lie to me. I know Gumshoe’s doing just fine… and I heard you, y’know? Last week… in your office.”

“What? What are you talking about?” He stammered out, racking his head for what he might’ve been doing in his office— fuck.

Fuck, he thought, mind racing rapidly, he thought you had already left by the time he started—

“I heard you, hiding in your office… stroking yourself, moaning my name.”

You’d rented just one tape last Friday, for a movie date with a guy from work, and you almost left - before realizing Neil took your membership card and never gave it back. You waltzed back in, and to your obvious surprise, Neil wasn’t at the register.

“Neil?” You called out softly, trying not to spark an argument with him that would span hours, because you were trying to show up to this date on time.

You walked down the back hallway, and found his office door, which had a gleaming NEIL LEWIS printed on its foggy glass.

Your hand had almost reached for the handle, his name on the tip of your tongue, when you heard a needy whine slip past the door. Shocked, you lingered and pulled your hand away, pressing your ear against the pane to listen closer.

“God, fuck,” you heard Neil curse, his name slipping from your lips like a prayer. “Need you so bad,” you heard him whisper to no-one but himself, before a low moan belted out of him.

Your face grew warm, immediately, flushed at the news that Neil-fuckin’-Lewis was jerking off, in his office, mumbling your name. You squeezed your eyes shut, continuing to listen to his pretty voice, and after several moments of your lust-riddled mind drinking in his sweet noises, how he was so focussed on his pleasure while completely oblivious to your listening in, you found one of your hands coming up to tweak your erect nipple — fuck, his stuttered little moans had your cunt pulsing with utter need.

Neil was getting close, you could tell, hearing him buck into - what you assumed - was his wooden desk, sloppily muffled mewls leaving his mouth.

You were biting down on your lip, hard, an incredible amount of self control in place. The man was so horny, sounding so fucking submissive it drove you insane: just the thought that he’d bend to your will and do whatever you wanted made your legs clench.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending who you ask, you felt your phone begin buzzing in the waistband of your modesty shorts - probably the date you were late for - and you had quickly fled.

“Oh, jesus,” Neil blurted out now, alarmed, immediately in the flight part of fight or flight. “I- whatever you heard, I can - I can explain, really, so please don’t—“

Your hand gripped his thigh, keeping him from getting up. “Hey, hey, shh,” you said, bringing a finger to your lips. “You don’t have to explain yourself. I know, just as well as you do, how bad you want me.”

Truly, Neil couldn’t control himself that night. You had walked in, wearing a delicious little dress with a sweetheart neckline, strolling around in 3-inch heels, cooing mockingly at his costume for that week’s theme — a criminal wearing nifty little handcuffs to promote the double feature promotion of crime films and dramas — purposely leaning down to make him feel smaller than you.

Neil had flushed, looking away, willing himself not to let out a needy groan at your get-up, instead silently checking out your tape rentals and quickly handing them back to you. After you’d walked out of the store, he’d dashed to his office, feeling the tent in his pants grow warm, aching.

Quite similarly to how he felt now, your eyes coursing over his entire form, so close Neil felt himself sinking into the couch.

“Look how fucking hard you are already.” you whispered, hand drawing away from his thigh and reaching for the bulge in his jeans, palming him between the fabric. “Does it turn you on? The fact you got caught?”

Neil’s breath hitched. “Fuck, please, I—“

“You’re so pathetic.” You said, laughing at him. “I can feel how big you are, such a thick cock, and all you know how to do with it is beg.”

Your plush lips were curled into a cheshire grin, baring your sharp teeth at him, and Neil was ashamed at how badly he wanted those teeth to press painful bites into his sensitive skin.

He was about to whine again, plead desperately, but he shut up when you slipped off the couch, sinking to your knees, fingers undoing his belt buckle and fly. Shifting his jeans down, you dipped your hand down the waistband of his boxers and pulled his cock out: it was angry, hard and begging for release.

But you wanted to tease him before you got to the good part. First, your warm breath fanned over his cock, making him jump, trying to rut up into your mouth, and your soft lips slipping past his leaking head had his hands tugging at your hair, trying to pull you closer to him.

You thinned your eyes and got up, hand pressing his cheeks together and forcing his jaw open. You spit into his mouth, then patronizingly patted his face, “Do that again and I won’t touch you - I’ll take my tapes and leave you a needy fucking mess on this couch.”

Neil groaned, your spit foreign and hot on his tongue like lava. “God, I… I just wanna — want you so bad.”

You tutted, sinking back down on your knees to face his rock hard length up and pressed flat against his abdomen. “Not yet. You haven’t earned it, you desperate fucking pervert. D’you know who jerks off in their office to someone they barely know? Fucking perverts.”

He leaned his head back, a moan leaving his lips at your insulting choice of words. It felt like you were torturing him, but his body wanted nothing more than you.

Your lips then ghosted past him for another moment before you started your assault on his strained cock: you laid tentative kitten licks all the way down his length, enjoying how he squirmed under you, wanting nothing more but your wet mouth around him. Then, without warning, you took him in your mouth whole, tongue dragging and curling around his cock. You devoured him salaciously, hollowing your cheeks, sliding his cock in and out of your full mouth at an alarming speed, hitting the back of your neck with each thrust.

Your tongue felt heavenly on his cock: wet, warm, and sticky, lapping at him without stopping. Your teeth grazed against him lightly, and Neil’s back arched into your touch.

He was practically convulsing now, drooling as his eyes rolled to the back of his head at the pure pleasure you were inflicting on him with no split second or moment for him to regain his composure. You wanted to see him fall apart, come undone just by your mouth, he realized, and he wanted to let you, wanted to let go — but, as fast as you’d taken his hard cock into your mouth, you let him drop from your lips.

“Why did you - please, fuck -- why did you stop?!” Neil whimpered noisily, head rolling onto his chest to look down at your face: lips plump, faint tear tracks running off your cheeks, your gagged spit falling from your chin.

“I oughta take you down a peg, Neil. Show you what a dumb fucking loser you are, pretending you’re so confident, so dominant, like you know everything there is about movies.” You responded nonchalantly, getting up and shedding your panties and leggings.

“M’not dumb,” he whined, looking at you through heavy lidded eyes, “god, you’re killing me here.”

“You’ll live,” you grinned, climbing on his lap and lining your wet sex with the fat head of his cock. Then you descended down on him, watching blissfully as his cock disappeared into your folds.

Neil’s hands wrapped around your waist, burying his face into your neck. He mewled against your skin, drunk on your tantalizing scent, lips wet with drool and leaving a slick trail.

Despite your dominance in this situation, completely controlling Neil’s pleasure, you couldn’t control your own: Neil’s cock felt fucking good, long and thick in all the right places, a curve that arched right against your cervix, veins rubbing against your walls pleasantly. He stretched your cunt completely, making you wince, but there was still pleasure there, the feeling of your crevices being filled with his fat cock making your toes curl.

After a moment of getting used to his cock, you rose back up, then sunk down, your hands gripping his shoulders for dear life. Neil’s head shot back, a labored cry leaving him as you set a steady, almost too slow pace, torturously sliding his cock in and out of your tight hole.

Your hands trailed across his still-clothed chest, and you grieved the chance lost to have stripped him, your touch teasing him every step of the way — but having him deep within you was probably better.

“Your- fuck, you’re so -- so soft,” Neil squeaked below you, revelling in how you took him, bottoming out each time like it was nothing.

You simpered at his words, how helpless he was, succumbing to the pleasure; to you. “Knew you were,” you slammed down on his cock, making Neil choke, “pretending to be arrogant. You just needed someone to put you in your place.”

Neil hadn’t realized it wasn’t a rhetorical question until your hand came up to his hair, tangling through his locks and tugging. “Who d’you belong to? Who put you in your place?” you murmured lowly.

He whimpered at your roughness, leaning into the sofa obediently. “You! You own me,” he pleaded, desperately chasing his own pleasure.

“That’s it,” you said, shutting your eyes, bobbing up and down on his cock faster. Your ass bounced above him, and Neil’s hands rested on the flesh of your rear, massaging you.

Greedily, Neil tried to thrust into you, but you weren’t having any of it, deterring his attempts by pushing him so he laid flat on the couch, your hands pinning his wrists above his head, the new position pushing him deeper into you.

“You stay down, you dirty fuckin’ loser,” you said caustically, but your actions said otherwise: your walls were squeezing around him needily, your cunt sucking him in so far you could feel his balls brushing against your clit.

The tip of his cock brushed past your g-spot each time you rutted into him, and soon enough you felt it: that pulsing, that heat, that familiar coiling within your insides. Neil was reaching it too, his face flushed pink and his breathing as heavy as it was back then, in the tape closet.

You began thumping down on him, your fingers tightening around his scalp. Your pace had gotten feverish, bordering feral, both your minds focussed on one thing: release. You could feel your cunt tensing, your mind going foggy, and then, there it was: your pleasure ran through you like electric current, shocking your body. You felt numb, tingly like when the blood flow to your arm gets cut off for a moment, making your pace stutter.

You didn’t stop, however, riding out your high on his cock, bouncing up and down on Neil’s thick length. He felt fucking delicious, piercing you in all the right ways, and you adored how malleable he was right now: so horny and submissive he stopped speaking and was merely letting dirty moans leave his mouth without any protest. His gaze, his focus, was elsewhere, lost in the deep haze of pleasure your cunt was subjecting him too.

You leaned down, pressing small love-bites onto his skin like he’d fantasized so many times before, and it broke him out of his stupor. “Did you think of this, in your office?” you whispered, “did you think of me, my tits bouncing, your cock deep in my cunt?”

“Ugh,” Neil groaned, reveling in how your seductive voice sounded like music. He was much, much closer than he thought, and when you licked up his jaw, your hot breath on the shell of his ear making him sweat, your cunt still fucking him roughly, he let go.

You felt it first, the familiar liquid bursting past his thick head and painting your fleshy walls creamy, like a new coat of alabaster that Gumshoe desperately needed.

“So good, so wet,” Neil groaned, shutting his eyes and pressing his forehead to yours. You stared at him, watching his lewd expression throughout his entire high, waiting for that beautiful blue gaze of his to open and face you again.

“I’m milking you dry. Look how fucking full you’ve made me, you filthy pervert.” You were taking him for every drop he could offer, and it was delectable.

You two were heaving now, both coming down from your highs. You’d effectively ruined the couch, your slick soaking the cushions and his jeans, as well as his come, which was leaning out of your still-stuffed hole.

“I think you’ve gotta replace this manky ass couch, Neil,” was the first thing you said, your hands sliding down from their grip in his hair to his pink cheeks, rubbing his skin delicately.

His eyes opened, watching you carefully. “It was about time,” Neil shrugged breathlessly. “Do you… do you actually - hate me?” he continued, murmuring self-consciously.

You laughed, but it wasn’t sharp, not at him like before, no; it was tender, like a scarf Neil wanted to wrap around him in the winter time.

“I never hated you,” you murmured, tone reverent, “you’re just a little, how does it go…”

“Presumptuous?” Neil finished for you.

You nodded, then grasped at his shirt and pulled him from the couch so he was sitting upright again. “Jus’ wanted to, ahem, “take you down a peg” like I said earlier..” you trailed off, cheeks growing warm remembering your earlier behavior during sex.

This was all very new, to the both of you — you, in all your relationships and flings, were not the dominant partner. You guessed there was a first time for everything.

Then, you were about to get off his lap, but Neil held you steady on his cock. “Don’t go,” he said simply. “I’ve got Brief Encounter in the player, if you want to, y’know…”

He wasn’t hard anymore, but it just felt good, cozy, having you two talk and regain your composure with him filling you nicely. It felt right.

You smiled, a gummy, blissful smile. “Okay. I’ve actually never seen this,” you said, turning to face the tv, wincing slightly.

“Really?” Neil said, an amazed joy seeping into his voice.

“I’m joking,” you snorted, and you could practically see Neil pouting behind you. “But I don’t think we’ll be paying much attention…” you purred, clenching your thighs around his length.

“Jesus fuck,” Neil groaned behind you, hands coming under your shirt, “you’re exactly like those movies.”

“I’m even better, baby.”

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #neil lewis x reader #watching the detectives #neil lewis smut #sub!neil lewis x reader

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humongousgothskeletonfarm · 15 days

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chapter 6 thoughts: (spoilers ahead!)

oh. fuck.

he was king. now he’s a martyr.

holy shittttt

aftg really brings us all together, this is random but i love talking to other fan accounts about the books

anyway fanfics will no longer have to speculate when rikos funeral was, and if kevin attended or not (or if he had a mental breakdown about it)

also neil u have no tact babe and i love u for it

oh renee ur so lovely ur so insightful (neil u should listen to what she has to say)

jean and his ‘i won’t grieve him’ ❤️🫶

- ‘promise me’ jean said with a desperation that should have kill him, nathaniel didn’t hesitate, ‘i promise’ SHUT THE FUCK UP I LOVE THEM THANK U NORA THIS IS EVERYTHING I WANTED FROM THIS BOOK

THE SWAP FROM NATHANIEL TO NEIL IS JUST AS POWERFUL FROM JEANS PERSOECTIVE IN TSC AS IT WAS IN FROM NEILS IN TKM I LITERALLY CANNOT THE PARALLELS ARE KILLING ME

it’s 1:40 am and i’ve just made a cup of tea to keep myself awake

feeling many things about jeans perusal of the fox photo wall and taking renee’s picture

i know these motherfuckers aren’t accusing neil kevin and jean of abandoning that cunt and leading to his ‘suicide’

WE ARE THE RIGHT PEOPLE I THINK JUST NOT THE RIGHT TIME (look i am admittedly not a jean/renee shipper but good god they are so sweet in this)

A COOL EVENING BREEZE AND RAINBOWS

screaming as silently as i can rn

- petition for someone to put summertime sadness on the jean playlist

whattttt is the mystery about jeremy’s family?? what is this fabled fall banquet that tore his family in half im so intrigued i have to know more

ALSO JEREMY IS IN THERAPY AND HAS SOME SORT OF FAMILY ISSUES I KNEW IT IM SURE THATS ON A BINGO SOMEWHERE

jeremy dad of the trojans checking to see that they’re safe and also cody first cannon non binary character??? pls say yes

accidentally fell asleep in the middle of my planned all nighters whoops it’s currently 7 am

chapter 7:

“I like to indulge,” Jeremy said with a dimpled smile. Kevin’s words mocked him in the back of his thoughts: “Some of them you like.”

i did. notice this in chapter 2 or whatever but is this?? are we getting jerejean???? that’s what this means righ??

jeremy wdym ‘oh to be the pampered elite’ u have a butler??

jean defending kevin saying he’s earned the right to be arrogant be still my beating heart i love these stubborn mother fuckers

He was years away, watching a different beautiful boy lean in close to say, Will you teach me when he’s not watching? It could be our secret.

STOP IT RN

chapter 8!!

flicked him a sly look. “Easy on the eyes, maybe.”

AHHHHH!!!

also so glad that there’s 100% confirmation cat and laila are dating (shared bedroom!)

the description of laila and cats lounge room is so soft and cozy im so jealous i wish i was there

barkbark von barkenstein u will never top sir fat cat mcatterson (although props to nora for always having simultaneously the worst and most creative names for pets)

jean telling cat she’s a good player but misses every ball at her hips is literally every raven! (someone) fic ever come to life where they meet a relatively normal other team and have absolutely no tact or awareness of what others considered rude and immediately tell the other players what their weaknesses are (i’m obsessed)

“Yes,” he said, and if he didn’t sound sure, he at least sounded angry. “Let them all burn. I hope none of them survive.” BABY I LOVE U IM SO PROUD OF U UR SAFE NOW FUCK RIKO FUCK THE RAVENS FUCK THE MASTER

“Oh, he’s good. A bit rude, but I like him. I think we’re going to be good friends.”

i’d say the exact same thing

*jeremy giving jean the keys*

well it’s not andreil levels of drama and symbolism but love a good comparison

or they do not care enough about her wellbeing. It’s unforgivable either way.”

giggling a bit over jean being up in arms about boba knowing that he’d be seriously unimpressed with me if he knew how much boba i drank

he wants to know what it was for

AND WHAT IF THAT LINE BROKE ME NORA?? AND WHAT THEN??

The Ravens had given up everything to be the undefeated champions, only to be destroyed last month by a tiny team from South Carolina.

I CANT DO THIS ANYMORE

“Loving something is not enough,” Jean told him, right on cue. “When is the last time you enjoyed playing?” Jeremy asked. “Irrelevant,” Jean said. “I am Jean Moreau; I am perfect Court. I do not need to enjoy it to be the best backliner in the NCAA.”

that was what Jean felt safest in, Jeremy would back his decision wholeheartedly.

LITERALLY LEAVE ME ALONE

chapter 9999

also i’m so glad that we have jeremy/laila/cat friendship like in fics and stuff they were always best buddies coz they were the only trojan characters named in the books but it’s great to see they’re actually good friends in cannon

“I need you to listen to me for one moment,” Laila said, “and I need you to believe me when I say it. Fuck Coach Moriyama.”

AGREED AGREED AGREED FUCK THAT CUNT

COOKING LESSONS WITH JEAN THIS IS THE WHOLESOME CONTENT I SIGNED UP FOR

cat talking macronutrients and promising to help with his diet so it’s still familiar but more fun in order to begin healing jeans relationship with food is so important to me

nora bleaching jeremy’s hair blonde after telling us she was shocked we all headcannoned him as blonde while she thought he was brunette is so funny to me,, don’t worry fan artists u do not have to change a thing!

(frosted tips made me giggle too, jeremy u pussy)

“Voulez-vous coucher avec moi?”

chapter 10

jean learning basic household chores like sorting and washing clothes and deep cleaning the apartment and learning his way around a supermarket <3

LAILA CAT JEAN FRIENDSHIP IS REAL

Afternoons were filled with whatever the women were in the mood for that day, be it wandering downtown, shopping, or combing through estate sales.

Jean went where they took him because it was better than being left in the house alone,

COOKING IS HEALING JEAN ITS A COMFORT THING SHUT THE FUCK UP THIS IS EVERYTHUNG HES SO REAL FOR THAT

Ravens graduated; they didn’t leave.

fuck if that didn’t just stop my heart

i definitely should have been more wary of the trigger warnings. if anyone is wanting to read the book but is worried about certain parts, i’d be happy to let y’all know what sections are triggering so u can try and skip around them.

But Jean was not a Raven, and Wayne was dead.

FUCK YEAH BABY NOT ANYMORE U ARENT

the thought of that quiet space with its single bed was so repulsive he turned toward the living room instead. - this is so important to me

He could sense the others’ presence even if they weren’t around to bother him, and that was enough to take the edge off the loneliness eating at his heart.

literally end my life i’m so happy for jean, he’s healing slowly but surely

this was better than anything he’d ever had. It was worlds more than he deserved. He feared it as much as he wanted it;

JEAN U DO DESERVE IT I PROMISE U

wait wtf,, zane is reacher??? in literally every raven fic ever reacher is the most abusive character other than riko

OMFG BEACH SCENE??? THEYRE GONNA TAKE JEAN TO THE BEACH??? CHECK THAT OFF EVERY SINGLE BINGO CARD MADE FOR THIS BOOK

^ yeah i wrote that two seconds before then reading jeans panic attack about drowning and the trigger of riko waterboarding him and neil and now i want to cry

#aftg #all for the game #the foxhole court #tsc #the sunshine court #jean moreau #jeremy knox #laila dermott #catalina alvarez #nora sakavic #usc trojans #renee walker #neil josten #andrew minyard #kevin day #david wymack #nathaniel wesninski

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luckyportuguese · 11 months

Text

When Y/n Macher Loomis said her first word

(This is my first time writing a story, pls give me a break)

Daddy! Stu Macher x Bubba! Billy Loomis x Toddler!Fem!Reader

Summary: Your dads bring you into a high school reunion and they never expect you say your first word. (In this story Tatum Riley and Randy Meeks are alive, they never dated Sidney and Tatum in this story, Neil Prescott is the Ghostface)

Warnings: Fluff, soft!Billy Loomis, soft!Stu Macher, Tatum and Sidney being the lovely aunties, Randy being the goofy uncle.

Billy Loomis and Stu Macher never thought of getting married and having kids.

After the graduation of the Woodsboro High School, they decided to departure in different ways.

Sidney Prescott was traumatized by learning that her dad Neil Prescott, murder her own mother, Maureen Prescott because she was cheating on him with Nancy Loomis' ex-husband Hank Loomis, causing her leaving Billy and his father behind and murdering other students who had nothing to do with his marriage.

She wanted to forget the horrible things that happened in Woodsboro and decided to moved to New York with her girlfriend Tatum Riley.

Randy Meeks decided to leave the town and move to London, starting his chapter away from that once called peaceful town who turned into a nightmare.

After their friends and family left this once peaceful town, Stu had realized that he fell in love with his best friend from middle school.

He thought that it was just a stupid crush and it would be over but it didn't stop, he was just afraid of Billy's reaction.

Billy fell harder for Stu, the person who he could trust, he couldn't trust his own parents or himself, after realizing that Stu was the only one he trusted the most of his life.

He wanted to hold him, to hug him, saying 'i love you' over and over again, building a home, having two dogs and children running around their home, so Billy and Stu decided to tell their feelings after they wanted to stay in Woodsboro.

1 year later after the graduation happened in California, Stu and Billy decided to get married in Las Vegas and they had their honeymoon in Paris, when they come back from the honeymoon, they found a baby girl in their front door, sleeping with a note next to her tiny body saying:

"Hello my name is Y/n Macher, I'm Stu Macher's daughter, by the time you are reading this, my mom decided to be in a place called heaven, she did love me but she was so sad because people left her alone with a child, she couldn't hold the pain and wanted me to be taken care of, she said that she will be watching me.

Please take care of me for her,

Rebecca Morgan. "

Billy was surprised when Stu had a daughter but he slept with a 30 year old woman named Rebecca Morgan when they graduated in high school but he wasn't mad at him, Y/n wasn't at least 2 years old, it's not her fault that her slut mother fucked others guys to have Stu's attention.

So they decided to adopt her and she was their hope, pride and joy.

Y/n Macher Loomis born in November 2nd 1999, adopted daughter of William 'Billy' Loomis and Stuart 'Stu' Macher.

Stu is the emotional and overprotective parent while Billy is the most overprotective and caring parent, he makes sure that you listen and don't disobey their rules.

Stu loves to dress her up, gives her showers and spoils her while Billy has a soft spot just for his daughter and husband, she love to give him kisses and cuddles while Stu takes pictures admiring the daddy-daughter bound.

They decided to bring Y/n to the reunion, she was wearing a pink dress with a white socks and shoes, while Billy and Stu are wearing suits.

Billy was in love how she look, he and Stu weren't mentally ready when her first prom dress, her first wedding dress, the anniversary dress. They weren't ready for their daughter to grow up but they knew that she can't be small forever.

Tatum, Sidney and Randy arrived to Woodsboro High School and they were surprised when they saw Billy and Stu married and Billy holding baby Y/n on his hips while looking what was around her.

Tatum and Sidney were so in love with the baby and Stu decided to talk with Randy while the girls went to see Billy and Y/n.

"She's so cute and adorable" Tatum said with happiness on her face, admiring Y/n's beauty

"Thanks Tatum, how are you girls?" Billy asked to Sidney and Tatum

"Well we moved to New York, Tatum works as a fashion designer and I'm an actress, you?" Sidney said and asked

"Well that great for you, me and Stu got married and we have this pride and joy" Billy said while he smiled at his daughter and making her smile

"What's her name?" Tatum asked

"Y/n Macher Loomis, we found her in the front of our house when we came back from our honeymoon" Billy explain it to Tatum and Sidney.

"At least she has two people who cared about her" Randy said him and Stu were next to the girls while Stu picked up Y/n to put her on his lap.

After a while, they stared to talk about their life after the graduation and they heard a voice saying

"Bubba?"

They started to look at Randy and starting to get suspicious

"Randy, stop doing that voice" Sidney said while being annoyed by him

"It wasn't me, I'm promise" Randy defending himself

"Sure, keep lying." Tatum and Sidney said at the same time

"I'm not lying, maybe it was the baby" Randy trying to blame Y/N

"Really, are you going to blame my child Meeks?" Billy defending her while Stu looked at her

"I can't do that voice Loomis!" Randy trying to defending himself

45 minutes later, they talked again but this time they didn't look at Randy instead they look at the toddler in Stu's lap

"Bubba?!" Y/n said while pointing to Billy while sitting in Stu's lap and everyone was shocked

There were tears threatening to leave Billy's eyes and he was so happy that his daughter said her first word.

Billy decided to pick up Y/n and hug her while Randy was next to Billy and asked her

"Y/n can you say Randy?" Hoping that she would say his name

"Bubba!" Y/n saying while hugging Billy

Billy never thought that he couldn't be a good husband and father, after all, Y/n and Stu proved him wrong

thank you for watching and reading :)

#stu macher x billy loomis #billy loomis x child!reader #stu macher x child! reader #billy loomis #stu macher #stu macher x billy loomis x child! reader #sidney prescott x tatum riley #tatum riley #sidney prescott #randy meeks

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belonareyna · 6 months

Text

Pls if you don't agree, don't insult me in the comments. Obviously you can comment why you don't agree but let's be respectful 🥰

Feeling a little bit sorry for Aaron bc:

"You lie lie lie and lie" Yeah, but if is Neil you still like him...

Sooo... LET'S TALK ABOUT THE TWINYARDS DEAL!!!

Ok first of all WTF? Second of all, Aaron is a backliner, so I guess at least he's strong. I genually believe the only woman he couldn't protect himself from, was his mother.

So why did he made a crazy pact with the brother "he hated so much" after he unalived his mother?

Because he wanted to keep close with him. He wanted a relationship with him. But he resented him for his mother, and he genuinely thought he had unalived her because she abandoned him when they were babies, and instead of giving Aaron time to recompose himself, he literally locked him in a bathroom to get him out of dr*gs (abstinence without anything, no meds or literally no psicological help IS NOT PRETTY. You can actually die) and when Aaron was upset because Andrew had unalived her mother, he turned ice stone with him.

And yet Aaron "is the bad guy"?

PEOPLE THERE IS NO GOOD OR BAD GUY IN THE FOXES, they are all full of bullsh*t (Except Matt and Renee, they are angels).

So yeah, he broke an absurd promise, and even though it was stupid I get Andrew getting upset and mad because he broke it.

They really got that bros before hoes to the extreme, and think about it in a normal situation. It doesn't make any sense. It made sense because they are the foxes, they are traumatized, and their normality is not what a person raised in a more loving and supportive way have for.

But yeah, Aaron definitely make the deal to stay close to Andrew, and Andrew have the emotional experience of a snail, like they both have it, but in this case is more relevant Andrew's one.

#twinyards #andrew minyard #aaron minyard #neil josten #kevin day #matt boyd #renee walker #nicky hemmick #dan wilds #aftg #allison reynolds

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ya-like-huey-lewis-and-the-news · 2 years

Text

how the dead poets would prompose…

(pt. 1)

a/n: so my friend promposed to one of my other friends last night and i was like "okay i guess i have to write hc's for this now🙄🙄” so HERE IS THAT I HOPE U ENJOY

also ignore the logistics aspect of this w the private school blah blah blah this is my blog and i make the rules🙈🙈

neil perry:

(yes i used a swing kids gif shut up)

definitely did some sort of surprise musical number

yes, all of the rest of the poets were his backup singers.

and they were all into it too which is surprising

charlie definitely was resistant but enjoyed it the most

regardless of whether this is modern day or canon-time period, he would probably do a rendition of a song by the chordettes or frankie valli and the four seasons, that kind of thing

maybe some billy joel🫣🫣

you can tell how hard they worked on it

it was surprisingly good for a group of unhinged teenagers

mr keating was also there in the corner bc he knew ab it but wanted to see the finished product

neil ends the song on one knee holding his hand out to you like "(y/n)…will you go to prom with me?"

you say yes obvs

he just has the biggest smile on his face

hugs you and picks you up and spins you around<33333

todd anderson:

writes you a poem obviously

tries to keep it a secret, since he doesn’t want any of the other boys accidentally spilling the beans (i love that phrase sm)

most likely only tells neil and has mr keating proofread

even though he does not need proofreading

he puts his entire heart and soul into the poem

like it brings you to tears

this man loves you so much and it’s all on that one piece of paper

he leaves it on ur bed for you to find and once he sees you went into your room he stands in the doorway until you’re done reading

he is very nervous

you turn around and see him standing there

he sees you crying and he feels awful and goes to ask if ur okay

but u just hug him as tight as possible and don’t let go

and that was a mutual agreement that the answer was yes

charlie dalton:

i honestly had a hard time figuring this one out

i feel like he would use some sort of inside joke

like kind of like the teapot in the office

something like that

when he tells the rest of the boys all of them are confused but no one can question charlie's madness

he just knows for certain it will work

mr keating is very proud of his creativity

he’ll probably leave it on your bed waiting for you to find it

…and will also forget he put it there so he is quite confused as to why you are knocking on his dorm room door in the middle of the afternoon

when he opens the door he is simply attacked in a hug and kisses all over his face

he embraces you back and is lowkey giving himself a smirk

you say yes obvs

he is very pleased with how he did!!

you knew charlie was going to ask you, but you could not figure out how

he is quite the wildcard

but as always, regardless of his hamster wheel brain, he was able to show you at least a little bit of how much he loved you :)

thank you so much for reading! i had quite a lot of fun with this lol pls lmk if u want a part two with the rest of them and/or possibly how the actual prom night would go🫣🫣i hope u enjoyed !! have a great day mwah

#dead poets society x reader #dead poets society headcanons #dead poets society #neil perry headcanons #neil perry x reader #neil perry #todd anderson headcanons #todd anderson x reader #todd anderson #charlie dalton headcanons #charlie dalton x reader #charlie dalton

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stabbyfoxandrew · 8 months

Note

guardian angle au pretty pls

WIP Wednesday (8/30) | Guardian Angel Neil AU

“Why do you play exy if you hate it?” Neil says after a moment, changing the subject to Andrew's least favorite.

"Why am I living," Andrew says with a shrug.

Neil makes a face at that. "Because you're important."

"Don't start that. I've heard it all before," Andrew says, rolling his eyes.

"Well, I think you're lucky. I'd give anything to step onto a court again," Neil says, sighing wistfully. Then he mutters something under his breath and looks up to the sky.

Andrew watches his face for a moment then asks, “You play exy?”

“Not for a long time.” Neil says. “I used to play when I was a kid. And I picked it up again in high school. But then…” Neil looks a million miles away suddenly. His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat and he worries at his bottom lip. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter. How was practice?”

Andrew seesaws his hand. “Fine, I suppose. I hit Kevin in the head with a ball.”

“Why?”

“Does one need a reason to hit Kevin Day with a ball?” Andrew asks.

Neil laughs and Andrew’s heart flutters at the sound. Neil finally sighs and shakes his head softly. “Can you light one for me?”

Andrew cocks a brow.

“Yeah, I don’t really smoke.” Neil says. “I just like the smell. It’s nice.”

When Andrew gets a cigarette lit, he takes a drag and holds it out toward the angel. Neil leans in close and inhales deeply.

“Thanks.”

<- previous | first | next->

#andreil #aftg #Guardian Angel Neil AU #WIP Wednesday #🕊️#answered #angry-kid-with-no-money

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wordsinhaled · 1 year

Text

pressed — a Dream-perspective Dreamling playlist

notes: so uh. this is basically... a response to neil's ask about dream & calliope's wedding, in playlist form, because... yeah. so... 12 songs for dream's vulnerability when it comes to falling in love. it's songs from dream to hob. it is... big emotions. the mortifying ordeal of being known. etc. etc. -tracks- ginger and pear - pressed nick mulvey - fever to form the staves - steady rosemary & garlic - i'm here fenne lily - top to toe roo panes - know me well jono mccleary - darkest light wolf larsen - if i be wrong tuvaband - unknown axel flóvent - forest fires liza anne - lost billie marten - heavy weather

- lyrics below the cut -

ginger & pear // pressed

bring me home pick me and press me in the big dictionary you keep on the shelf i belong nestled and swaddled in words, to preserve me for years and when winter arrives, i'll still be here and when spring comes around, i'll still be here pressed in the shape that you found me most beautiful paper thin and petals like laces, i wait until it's time to unveil me maybe now i'll be delicate at least for a season or two and when summer arrives, i'll still be here and when autumn comes blowing, i'll be here pressed and beloved, or forgotten that's all up to you paper thin and veins on display, i wait until i'm transparent and ready maybe now i'll be knowable i can learn not to ache for your hands

nick mulvey // fever to the form

'cause the very thing you're afraid, afraid of it keeps you clean but unclear - clean but unclear is the dirt that you're made, you're made of and that's nothing to fear no, it's nothing, my dear but how do i know what you're thinking? maybe i thought it before maybe that's why i'm at your window hear me at your door singing, "give me some more" oh, fever to the form won't you hear me at your door singing "give me some more"? 'cause you were never empty and we've been here before

the staves // steady

steady, steady, steady you steady touch our love so much, i'm sleepless rabbit in a snare, why you sleeping softly in your bed? when unruly wild blood is pumping, why you running scared? and the line will read that i was never here can you see from where you're standing and the line will read that i was never here can you hear where i'm coming from?

rosemary & garlic // i'm here

here we found a place to stay build a house in the woods you'll find it safe it's small, though the light comes in then you say that it has a fire within then you sketched the trees and a path underneath for those who leave and i am a lover and a friend to you a part of your palette, a shade of blue i am i am here here i am here and i have you grateful by my side you are all my colors and my light

fenne lily // top to toe

tell me i'm a time you'll miss feelings always change like this but you are all the words i need to explain myself, it seems so i'm changing all my days to make your nights won't you take me to your bed? i should have said i need you more

roo panes // know me well

well, you know me with that ancient gaze you strip me down with yesterday's eyes you know me as i was but see me as i will be and i still had a lot of growing when you took me and you shaped me with those hands you know me better than myself, make me better than i am you know me well, you know me well, you know me well when i think upon my past i see i loved you many years before you came in my hopes and my dreams with the wax and the moon wane what can i fear when i know that i walk by your side? you're the fortress within which i've got nothing to hide none can take me; i'm the tower the world couldn't fell 'cause i'm stronger when i know you know me well

jono mccleary // darkest light

you have been strong in my mind today my love is dying to be on your way why am i always drawn to the darkest light? it seems that i believe i can help it shine so let me see the lines upon your face invite me in to dance in your darkest place to dance in your darkest place can we dance in your darkest place?

wolf larsen // if i be wrong

what if i'm wrong, what if i've lied, what if i've dragged you here to my own dark night? and what if i know, what if i see there is a crack run right down the front of me? what if they're right, what if they're wrong, what if i've lured you here with a siren song? but if i be wrong, if i be right let me be here with you tonight ten thousand cars, ten thousand trains there are ten thousand roads to run away and i have been wrong, i have been right i have been both these things all in the same night so if i be wrong, if i be right let me stay here with you tonight

tuvaband // unknown

fear showed me how fragile this is i seem to lean back on my heels and i want to meet you halfway but i cannot yet would you wait for me? until the unknown would you wait for me until the unknown?

axel flóvent // forest fires

i'll be there in the summer 'cause your heart isn't safe you won't go - you're not a runner so you won't run away if you could follow your heart gently there wouldn't be this mess your dreams are incredibly loud tonight you're creating forest fires i can't change your thoughts, my dear i can't change your fears but if you want i'll travel near to make it disappear

liza anne // lost

i'll be lost if i love him lost if i don't oh, it seems i'm my own worst enemy i'm doing it to myself and i can't muster up the courage to say it's best that i leave i can't muster up much of anything when i'm feeling you breathe he's the sweet of a morning kiss but there's a poison it holds sticking thorns into my spine but i won't let go sticking thorns into my sight but i keep my eyes closed i'm doing it with my own heart i won't let it mend i'm doing it to myself

billie marten // heavy weather

when the sun rises heavy, if it rises at all meet me there across the water and we'll start an endless storm rain falls in love together we walk the english winter so caught up in one another because if we're under thundershowers the rain is ours and we are lovers of heavy weather come on, lightning, try to strike us we might be frightened, but we won't run we'd be so happy if we were fearless and in the darkness, we will become rain falls in love we fall in love

#the sandman #dreamling

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mindthewitch · 10 months

Text

said it before ill say it again 'surrender the angle' doesn't seem entirely "quiet, gentle, and romantic" to me

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #surrender the angle #quiet gentle romantic #sure neil #why are u doing this to me #pls neil at least give me that #thats all i want #quiet and gentle and romantic #is that hard neil?#im not actually mad dw but i am currently on my knees begging #please

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jeanmoreaux · 6 months

Note

I am loving your recent flood of AFTG posts, I have never been the same since I read that series and Captive Prince a few years back

Anyways I saw the one compiled with quotes about rage and Andrew and I almost cried

I really really love Nora for being like, fck it and she just wrote the characters she wanted and the story she wanted and nothing comes close to that experience

I really appreciate how Andrew fully is an unhinged and violent person and there’s no ‘redemption arc or forgiveness’ nonsense that most writers (I’m looking at the recent YA sickness and booktok monstrosities) —- would intent to write in or be forced to do so by their editors or whatnot.

He is unapologetically himself and even though in reality I would probably avoid someone like that (I am smol. I have all the rage of the world but I would snap like a twig in 2 seconds if he decided to just end me—-ala Allison and Aaron situation WHICH I HAVE SOME BEEF WITH IF YOU’LL HEAR ME OUT) —-I just appreciate his character so much I can’t explain

Neil is myyyy boyyy though I definitely experienced the series the way he also develops across the books. When he’s shookt I’m shookt, when he’s snarky I’m also feeling snarky, and when he’s driving into a conversation like knives I’m also with him (the scene after the assault in book 2, at the hospital where Neil confronts him about ‘doing nothing’ still sends chills down my spine)

I just love AFTG it’s tattooed into my brain

ahhhhh you have noooo idea how much joy this ask brought me. even after all these years i still get excited when people come talk to me about these books and the characters in it. i am all with you in the opinion that this series is made special by nora just writing what she wanted to write. it’s so unapologetic in that approach as well, which is why the story and the characters and the dynamics work for me. and omg don’t even get me started on andrew or neil, they are my sons. i have soooo many feelings about them it’s awful. i actually appreciate how messed up they both are and how they both don’t really lose that by the end of the story. they do get better in their own ways without fundamentally changing as people and that just feels so right for them (to me at least). for me, this story has always been about the after of trauma. it’s about the coping mechanism to deal with it and the adjustment you have to make to survive it and also that even when you’re never gonna be what society considers “normal” again you can have a life that’s worth living and full of love and accomplishments and success. a life that lets you be okay most of the time. in my opinion, none of the characters needed a redemption anyway. ((but you’re right, popular sensibilities often push editors to demand that from their writers. which is so stupid to me but another discussion entirely lol.)) like, with these characters, it’s all about perspective. you simply cannot meet them on a level that insists on “healthy” notions of ethics and morals because they operate on such other principles. principles that make sense for the characters based on their psychology and circumstances. and that’s where you have to meet them and the point from where you have to judge them, in my opinion. ((that’s also why i think aftg is not for most people because i get not wanting to stray from one’s own set of sensibilities when it comes to the stuff in this series.)) personally, these characters (and especially andrew and neil) are so interesting exactly because their brains are so different from mine. i find that fascinating. and nora characterises them well enough to give it all a coherent internal logic that works out for the story. so YES OMG i appreciate these characters so much as well. they’re truly so different in a way that i eat up. and PLS full-on shit-stirrer, people-dragging, truth-spitting neil is my FAVOURITE!!! love it when he lets lose and verbally attacks people like there is no tomorrow. makes me so proud in the weirdest way.

also. what’s your beef with the allison and aaron situation? 👀 i am so curious and i’ll gladly hear you out

#jo look away.#i cannot tag this with aftg because i do not want it to pop up in the general aftg tag 🙈#((on my way to bed but i’ll be online again tomorrow 🙈))#answer #anon #have a lovely day!! <3 #mish reads aftg #<-i am not currently rereading but this feels like an appropriate tag lol

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lavenderbexlatte · 2 years

Text

shameless ch 2: speechless

stray kids 4.6k words female reader insert Reader x Lee Felix SFW

🖤 warnings: realistic idol!au, questionable power dynamics, idol/fan interactions, unresolved tension, deep/mature themes, the slowest of slow burns, felix is truly whipped and reader is...🖤

Series Masterlist

connect with me! / masterlist

🕷 you 🕷

felix lee: i’m running rlly late :c felix lee: can you pls just come to the dorm felix lee: manager wants me to talk to the dior guy myself i will b so late

You stare down at your phone in your hand.

Really, what could it hurt?

It’s been weeks of casual dating, and Felix is a staple in your life to the point that you sometimes forget that his involves things like conference calls with Dior reps. You wouldn’t have thought it possible to forget what kind of reality you’re in, but the power of routine has really set in.

Today, specifically, Felix is supposed to be en route to the river park, for a walk and some convenience-store ramen for dinner. This phone meeting was supposed to be earlier in the day, but obviously something outside of his control has changed. You’re already on the train, though, on your way across town.

It admittedly wouldn’t take much to get on the other metro line, to zip over to his neighborhood instead.

You’re a little too tired to worry, today. You just want to see Felix, have some excessive sodium and brave the autumn cold for a few hours, and then collapse into bed. You can handle having today be the day that you cross this line.

It’s not a big deal. It won’t be a big deal.

So you change course. You get the address from a very relieved Felix, and you head to the dorm, instead. The tiredness and the monotony of travel dulls your anxiety to a low hum, and you figure that it’ll be just fine.

That all changes when Bang Chan opens the door.

You make it to the dorm. Knock. Wait.

The door opens.

And it’s not Felix. It’s Bang Chan.

He blinks at you, sleepy eyes under the heavy hood of his dark sweatshirt. “Oh.”

He’s looking at you like you’re the thing that he least expected to find on his doorstep. He’s looking at you like he’s not sure if he’s imagining you there or not, like he’s trying to come to terms with the idea of your existence. It’s intimidating in its emptiness.

No, not just intimidating. It’s something else entirely. Your jaw is clenched, your knees locked. If you didn’t know better, you’d say that you’d entered fight, flight, or freeze mode and defaulted to freeze in an instant. You struggle against the urge to look down at your feet, instead of up at his face.

For one heart-stopping instant, you actually wonder if you’re at the wrong house, until your wits come back to you and you remember that, no, this is Felix’s idol group member. His idol group leader. You swallow. It’s not like you can leave. Felix is expecting you.

“Um, is…Felix…?” you ask weakly.

Bang Chan blinks at you again. There’s a silence that stretches far longer than you would like, and then he gives himself a little shake and gives you a little nod.

“Yeah, Felix, yes. He’s here,” he tells you, “You can just – d’you wanna wait inside?”

You try to dismiss it, “Oh, I can just-”

“No, no, come in,” Chan insists.

“Really, I’m okay-”

“Sorry, you kind of startled me,” he apologizes, cutting you off with a sheepish dimpled grin that makes a dull panic rise behind your eyes, because oh my god this is real, isn’t it?

“Me?” you answer, eloquent as ever.

“I just didn’t – yeah. Come in, sit down. Felix is on the phone,” Chan tells you, taking a step deeper into the apartment and beckoning you after him.

You follow him inside.

It’s like stepping into another dimension, for how significant it feels. This is your Neil Armstrong moment, your one giant leap. Or maybe it’s not. Maybe you’re just freaking out over nothing, overreacting to meeting the roommates of a guy you’re dating.

Because that’s what they are. His roommates. Felix’s roommates.

Stray Kids Felix.

Chan turns around again, pushing a hand back through his messy hair as he regards you carefully. “You’re (Y/N), right?”

You absolutely don’t flinch when Bang Chan says your name. “Yeah.”

“I’ve heard about you,” he says. “Nice to put a face to the name.”

“Felix talks about me?” you ask, unsure why this surprises you.

It shouldn’t surprise you. He’s been going out with you for nearly a month, now, and these guys are his friends and coworkers and roommates and literally constant companions. But you still struggle to believe it.

“Sure,” Chan nods.

“That’s…huh,” you say, truly stumped.

Chan gives you another one of those gentle half-smiles. “Lemme go see if Lix is done.”

“Okay.”

As Chan disappears into the house, leaving you standing by the entry to their big square living room, you find yourself equally hoping and dreading that another member will show up.

You wonder how you’d react. If seeing another one of them would make you feel the way Chan is making you feel, would make you want to crawl out of your skin and never return, would drop your heart into your heels and bead nervous sweat across your temples.

Because Chan…well. Chan. You’ve always-

“Hey!”

Felix’s face is bright, makeup-free, and exuberantly excited to see you. It’s not something that should make you jump, but you do, startling visibly so that he laughs and puts an affectionate hand on your shoulder.

“Hey,” he says again, “Sorry, just got off the call. I didn’t scare you, did I?”

He’s beaming. You don’t know what your face is doing, but it’s not that.

“No,” you lie, “I was just thinking.”

“About how messy this place is, I’m sure,” Chan cuts in with a wayward laugh, and oh.

He’s still here, too, isn’t he?

“It’s been worse,” Felix says.

“Doesn’t mean it’s good now,” Chan replies.

Felix lets go of you to go dig a pair of shoes out of an overflowing closet that spills sneakers and boots into the hall, and you don’t move an inch. To your own detriment, because now that he’s out of your line of sight, you’re just staring at Chan.

He doesn’t even give you a second glance, going back to the ridiculous gaming chair that faces a sleek PC setup in the corner by their mismatched dining set. His back is to you, but you find yourself tracing his shoulder line with your eyes in your dull disbelief.

These are idols.

Felix is an idol.

You always knew it. You were overly aware of it, from your first conversation. You’ve been bending yourself around that truth, fitting yourself into it. And now, suddenly, you feel stripped bare by it.

“Ready!” Felix announces, as he finishes off his shoelace with a flourish.

“Yay,” you answer weakly.

“Have fun!” Chan calls over his shoulder.

He still doesn’t look up, and you find a prickle of longing in the back of your mind, wishing that maybe he would. You don’t know why.

That’s a lie.

You know why, and you think about it as Felix leads you into the hall and away. Your body leaves that crowded living room, but your mind lingers, somewhere right behind that gaming chair and the broad shoulders nestled there.

🦋 him 🦋

She’s wearing the hoodie that they bought together all those weeks ago.

It’s a small thing, probably not even that significant to her, but it makes Felix’s heart do a giddy little flip in his chest all the same.

Things are coming up Felix, today. Chan was nice, didn’t even pull any group leader or big brother bullshit. She came over to the dorm, even though she’s obviously been a little nervous about it, taking another step into Felix’s life. And they get to go on a date.

They’re well on the date, actually.

They’ve snagged a table outside the GS25, steaming instant ramen cups in front of each of them and a bottle of juice to pass back and forth. The autumn wind is cold, but it’s comfortable enough.

But she’s worrying her disposable wooden chopsticks between her fingers, and it makes Felix wonder.

“What’s on your mind?” he asks.

She shrugs. “Just stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?” he presses, with a half-smile.

Rather than answering, she fishes out another bite of ramen and feeds it into her mouth. That’s okay. Felix can wait until she’s ready to share.

“I know it’s something,” he says.

She shrugs.

And then finally, she says, “Chan was really nice.”

“Did you expect him not to be?” Felix asks, amused.

“No, I just…” she shrugs again, “He was so nice.”

“It’s easy to be nice to you.”

She grins, even as she rolls her eyes at the compliment. “Still.”

“You’re right, though, he could have given us more grief,” Felix says thoughtfully. “Figured he would have.”

“Are they all that nice?” she asks.

“The members?”

She nods.

“Of course.”

Felix digs back into his own meal, satisfied that he’s gotten some of the truth out of her, even though her face is still pensive.

It’s a nice face. He likes looking at it.

A gust of wind sends leaves skittering under the table and around their feet, and she burrows farther into the plush of her hoodie. She looks so cute, ruffled and chilled through, and Felix can’t help it.

“I can’t believe…” she’s saying, “I mean really, I can’t-”

Felix cuts her off with a kiss. Their first, he realizes with a thrill, and maybe the first he’s had since he was a teenager. He can’t really remember. His career and the constant threat of losing it for the most minor social infraction has kept him away from all potential kisses for a long time. There’s a lovely haze of excitement settling over his consciousness, and when he pulls away, he swears he’s tingling.

She looks at him in surprise. She pulls her tongue over her bottom lip absently. And then she keeps talking, where she left off.

“I can’t believe Chan really dresses like that.”

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

She comes to the dorm two more times that month.

Both times, it’s her asking to come over, rather than spending time out somewhere else. Felix isn’t sure what changed, but he’s more than happy to stay in sweats and order in dinner.

The first time, Felix makes sure that everyone else is out of the house. They don’t need a whole audience of nosy bandmates, watching them watch a movie and making comments to each other like the nuisances they are. Even so, he’s hyperaware of the fact that at least ten other people have access to the dorm and could come back at any moment.

“We could go to my room, if you’re worried it’ll get weird,” Felix offers, “Managers won’t go in there, or anything.”

But she frowns. “You don’t have your own room, though.”

“Nobody’s home, we’ll have full privacy. But yeah, I share with Chan-hyung and ‘Bin-hyung,” Felix says.

Her face freezes.

Immediately, he starts backtracking in his mind, wondering which part of what he said is freaking her out. Oh, God, does she think he’s implying that he wants to have sex tonight? All that emphasis on being alone together? That would be cool, of course, awesome, excellent, but that’s not what he meant-

“We don’t have to,” he says, as soon as he realizes how long the silence has been.

“No, just…let’s stay out here,” she says.

They’re already squished side by side on the living room couch, so it’s easy enough to just stay there.

Felix slings an arm around her shoulders, and she leans into him so that he can smile softly into her hair. “Sounds good to me.”

-----

The second time, they have company.

Felix didn’t even think about the possibility of it, earlier that day, when he invited her over. Why would he? If the dorm is empty for the day, it usually stays that way. Days off mean everyone retreats to their own corners of the world and no one is home before they have to be. But they definitely aren’t alone together this time.

The living room is empty, save for the Switch and its missing joycon that Felix is turning the place upside-down to find. It’s really hard to play multiplayer games with only one controller, after all, and Felix promised her a Smash tournament. But after a thorough search of the room turns up nothing, the next logical place to look is in his room.

“Hold on, I’ll find it,” Felix promises, as he darts toward his bedroom door.

“I can come help,” she offers.

It’s something of a weird offer, considering the last time she was here, she didn’t even want to set foot in his room. She follows him this time, around the sofa and over to the short hallway that connects the living space to the bedrooms.

Felix dismisses her gently. “Nah, it’ll only be a second-”

But the door opens before Felix can even reach for the knob, and there she is. That girl. Chan’s girl, the Cool Girl. She’s dressed to the nines in slacks and mules and a puff-sleeved blouse, and there’s a hickey on her throat the size of a Cadbury egg.

“Hi, Felix,” she offers, perfectly lovely and polite.

She gives him a warm smile that shines with something that Felix can’t quite parse, and then she’s brushing past him on her way out.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were home,” comes Chan’s voice blithely from inside the bedroom.

“We got home like fifteen minutes ago,” Felix answers.

“We?” Chan echoes.

“Yeah, me and…” Felix blanches.

He turns around, and they’re face to face, wary like cats. Smiling at each other, sure, but the energy is wildly uncomfortable.

“This is so cute,” Cool Girl is saying, with a pluck at her sweater sleeve, “Where did you get it?”

If she answers Cool Girl, Felix doesn’t hear it, but it’s not another ten seconds before Cool Girl has clicked her way out of the room and left a horrible silence in her wake.

“I really didn’t know you were home,” Chan says again, wrenching Felix back into the moment, and this time it’s dripping with apology.

“It’s fine,” Felix says, and that’s true.

“I should have texted ahead, bro, really.”

“Do you ever?” asks Felix wryly.

“Maybe I should start,” Chan grins.

It’s then that Felix realizes Chan is completely nude save for the pair of briefs he’s obviously just shoved on, and while that’s not unusual in itself, the context makes Felix want to blush all the way down to his toes. He spots his joycon on the floor by his bed, and he gratefully shoves Chan aside and grabs the stupid blue thing.

“Just came for this, anyway,” Felix says, as he retreats.

“Enjoy,” Chan says, and he raises his voice to call out to her before the door slams, “Good to see you!”

Felix isn’t sure if this really qualifies as seeing each other. Or as anything good. But the pleasantry seems to set her more at ease, and Felix leads her back to the living room in a valiant attempt to pretend nothing happened.

-----

They also go to hers a few times. And those times are the most confusing of all.

When they’re truly alone, at her tiny apartment that makes Felix wonder what his life could be if things had gone differently, she’s just herself.

She’s the person he likes so much, flannel shirts and playlists, beat-up sneakers by the door and an unabashed peek of his friends’ faces from her music collection. She shows him movies and stupid YouTube videos and orders him her favorite takeout that his managers would kill him for eating (his skin! his physique!).

When they’re alone, she talks more. She smiles more, a real smile that wrinkles her nose and sets her eyes alight. She goes barefaced like he does, she’ll put on a skincare mask and give him one and they’ll sit there listening to music and letting the dubiously-effective serums sink in.

She’s something that he has chosen, a rarity in his life that has grown so much in the last few years, bigger and wilder and more wonderful but also far, far out of his control. She’s something he picked for himself.

And Felix likes her. So much.

That makes it all the weirder when she starts to change.

He notices it for the first time on a Saturday morning, when she comes to the dorm to make cookies with him. Maybe she had been changing for a while, in her day-to-day when they’re not together, but Felix is still bowled over when he sees her.

She’s right on time. She’s beaming at him. And her clothes-

That’s not usually what Felix focuses on, because why would he? But it’s impossible to ignore today. He opens the apartment door, and there she is, looking nothing like herself.

“What are you wearing?” he asks.

He immediately curses himself silently; that wasn’t supposed to come out.

She wilts just the slightest bit at his words, and her discomfort makes the outfit look even more out of place.

It’s a look that Felix has definitely seen before, though he couldn’t put a finger on exactly where. A loose, airy blouse over tailored slim-fit pants, practical Mary Jane walkers. Neutral pastel colors that complement each other well, a pale blue and a slate grey.

Pretty, of course. The pieces fit well. But they’re not…right. They’re not right.

“You don’t like it?” she asks.

“No, no,” Felix says quickly, “I’ve just never seen this outfit before.”

“It’s new,” she says.

“I can tell.”

The distinctive smell of new clothes is strong, that perfume that hangs over department stores and boutiques. She must have just bought everything, head to toe. The thing that Felix cannot figure out is why.

"You look great," Felix assures her.

"Thanks."

She looks sheepish, still, though the alarm at Felix's reaction has faded.

"But we're gonna be baking, you know," he says.

She shrugs, "I can be careful."

"I can give you something to put on. I don't think we have aprons but there's gotta be something."

Felix has all the baking things ready. Ingredients ready on the counter, bowls and spoons and whisks on the kitchen table.

He put most of them out last night, actually, too excited at the prospect of doing something so cute and domestic with someone like her. The last person who really sat and baked with him for the process of it was Chan, and that was for a vlog so it wasn't the same at all. It wouldn't have been the same even without the camera, Felix tells himself. So this is an exciting first.

As she toes off those Mary Janes, so new that the treads on the bottom are barely dirty, Felix rummages through the cabinets to see if they have any spare aprons. He thinks the managers took the ones they'd had for washing, and he can't recall if they ever came back.

Doesn't seem like they did.

He glances at her, still by the door, adjusting the tuck of her lovely blouse, and he knows that this won't do.

A quick trip into his room, a glance around the mess, and he has the solution.

"Here."

She looks down at the bundle of fabric nonplussed.

"It's an old t-shirt," Felix explains, as he turns back to the ingredients, eager to begin, "I don't have an apron for you so just, like. Wear that to keep your clothes clean."

She laughs. "Thanks."

Flour, sugar, vanilla extract, salt, eggs and butter from the fridge. Everything seems in order, but as Felix fixes his gaze on her again, obviously that sentiment isn't completely true.

She's just holding up the t-shirt, looking at it as if it's some kind of giant bug or a garbage bag or something. It's clean, Felix tugged it out of one of the dresser drawers stuffed full of old training clothes and smelled it himself, but she's still looking at it with no small amount of trepidation. She's certain not putting it on.

"What's up?"

"This..." she shakes the shirt gently, "This isn't yours."

Felix peers at it more closely, and sees that the sleeves are gone, leaving a ragged hem that suggest they were cropped off at home with a pair of scissors. "Huh. Nah, must be hyung's."

Which hyung, he's not sure, since both guys who share Felix's room are known for homemade muscle tees and their absolute refusal to wear real clothes. But the confirmation does not seem to make her feel any better.

"You want me to wear this?" she asks.

"Unless you wanna get eggs and flour on your new clothes," Felix says, perplexed.

He's not quite sure why she's hesitating. If it's the borrowing-clothes thing, Felix takes their stuff all the time, so that's not an issue. He can wash it after, if it gets dirty. He says as much, and she still just looks at the wrinkled black fabric.

It's one of their old album release shirts, Felix notices. Miroh, he thinks. Damn, that's been kicking around for a while, then.

He almost comments on it, too, but as if she's breaking out of her little trance, she slips the shirt on over her nice clothes, and the moment is over.

She approaches the table where Felix stands, takes in the assortment of ingredients, and she smiles. "Let's do this."

-----

The second batch of cookies, these ones full of M&M's and pretzel pieces at her ingenious suggestion, have just gone into the oven when the members get home.

Not all of them, luckily. Felix doesn't know what he would do if Jisung and Seungmin and Jeongin were around to give him shit about having a girl over on one of their precious days off. They're his friends, but damn if they're not the absolute worst.

It's just Minho and Chan.

"Guys are home," Felix says.

She's watching the cookies through the tiny glass door of the tabletop convection oven, and she simply replies, "They can't have any."

Minho comes in first, levels her with a smile that doesn't quite reach his tired eyes, and goes right to the fridge to retrieve a Monster and a snack. He cracks the can, and as he's looking at her, his gaze slides down to the borrowed t-shirt as she absentmindedly wipes the flour off her hands along the hem of the shirt.

Felix throws him a warning glare, but Minho just looks back toward the foyer and says, casual as anything, "Hey, hyung? Isn't that yours?"

The calm is well and truly shattered then, and she turns around to look at Minho in alarm.

"Felix lent me-"

But Chan makes his way into the kitchen, too, and when he sees the t-shirt, he stops. His expression is unreadable, which is saying a lot since Felix knows him immeasurably well and Chan is also very easy to read regardless. Is he upset about the stains of flour and water? Is it that some girl he's only met a few times is wearing his clothes without his permission? None of those seem like things that would particularly upset Chan, though, so Felix is left staring at his hyung and guessing.

"Yeah, it is," Chan says, finally.

"It was in the drawer, she needed something to borrow," Felix says, hoping to head off any kind of confrontation before it begins.

"Nah, no worries," says Chan, and he looks like he means it.

"You sure?"

"'Course I'm sure," he grins.

Minho, for his part, is watching with far too much interest, sipping from his energy drink and leaning against the middle fridge. He's never really stuck around when she was over before, and his new interest makes Felix more than a little curious.

"Those look good," Chan says, eyeing the cookies lined up on their baking tray, cooling on the kitchen table.

"You wanna try?" she asks him.

Felix snorts. "You just said they couldn't have any."

She looks at him, a little exasperated. "I was kidding."

"Can I?" Chan asks.

At her eager nod, Chan peels one of the half-cooled chocolate chip cookies up and jams the entire thing into his mouth. It's like a weird game of telephone, as she watches Chan, Minho watches her, and Felix watches Minho.

"So good," Chan confirms, muffled by his full mouth.

She fidgets, and Minho peers at her even harder.

"That's all Felix," she says, "He's the master chef. I haven't baked in so long."

"But you helped," Chan grins.

It's her turn to make a face that Felix can't quite parse, but before anything can cross the line from slightly weird to actually firmly weird, Minho slings an arm around Chan's shoulders and begins leading him out of the room.

"Let the lovebirds make their shit," Minho instructs.

"Yeah, yeah," Chan twists in Minho's grip to throw a wave and an even bigger smile at her and Felix. "Have fun!"

Her face falls ever so slightly once Chan and Minho are gone, retreated to their rooms after doing whatever it is they'd gone out to do together. The calm content that had settled over the kitchen as they shaped the cookies, filled the trays, waited for the finished desserts, isn't quite the same as it was.

And as much as Felix doesn't want to think that his friends could be the reason for that, the logic stands: she was fine before seeing them, and now it's weird.

It's weird, right?

Why is it weird?

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

Felix never really gets any answers about that cookie-making date turning odd at the end, but to be fair, he doesn't ask her any questions about it.

He's always been the type to pick his battles. It's a necessary skill in a career like his, to know when to push the issue and when to let go, and this seems like as good a time as any to just take things at face value and move on. It's still a little jarring for her, a fan of the group, to see the members when she's not thinking about it. Felix has to just accept that.

It would be easier to accept if things didn't keep happening.

Felix doesn't get to see her for a few weeks after that day. It's all because of scheduling conflicts on his end, as usual. His job picks up and drops at the most random times, and after a few weeks of free and clear weekends, he's got back-to-back commitments again.

But as soon as he has time, they plan for one of their standard movie night in at her place.

Maybe it'll be better if they're back on her terms, in her space, where things usually make sense.

She looks like herself when she opens the door that night, dressed in casual shorts and a comfortable t-shirt, unready and soft and normal. It lets Felix relax, releases any worry that she was making aesthetic changes for him, for whatever reason.

She's normal, but her apartment is a little different.

The posters are gone.

Or, mostly gone.

All the old ones, pictures of assorted groups that she's talked to him about over the weeks and months, have disappeared. Even her albums have moved, relegated to a high shelf out of view. Felix has to really look to find them, hidden high above.

There is, however, one new poster, front and center, drawing the eye more than anything else in the room.

Felix's own eyes gaze down at him, face glitter-caked and Photoshopped to a smooth approximation of its usual shape, the members posed around his tiny austere image looking much the same.

It's a poster from their latest album. And somehow, their group name that usually fits like his own feels something like a threat, an exposition, emblazoned across the bottom corner of the print. Stray Kids.

Stray Kids' Felix.

Is that how she wants to see him?

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids felix #stray kids felix fanfic #lee felix #lee felix fanfic #kpop fanfic #lee felix x you #lee felix x reader #bang chan fanfic #stray kids bang chan #if you see this change to the tags no you don't

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