sonputaiquan2us-blog

[mariemariemaria]

can't lie g/omens fans are starting to piss me off

[crescenthistory]

You and I, We’ve Grown Comfortable Here

Pairing: Lee x Reader

Summary: Two outcasts with nowhere to go decides to go nowhere together. In each other they find shelter, acceptance, intrigue and a bond neither expected to go as deep as it does.

Words: 13.6k

Warnings: not proofread, basically five fics in one (a year of their relationship developing), assault, hints at sexual assault, implied attempted rape, death, murder, cannibalism (bones&all hello), make-out sessions, blood, implied smut(?), panic attacks, implied abusive parents, kicked out of home, living in a car, crying, angst, slow burn, cannibals in love, hurt/much comfort, happy ending, lee's truck being a character in and of itself

A/N: i am so unwell, i wrote this whole thing in the span of ONE day. this man makes me unwell. anyway, if i ever write any other fics or drabbles for lee, unless otherwise specified, presume it is based on this background because i am obsessed with these two.

***

When you saw the headlights, your heart caught in your throat just a little. It was late, too late to be out walking down a relatively abandoned countryroad, too late to even be awake. With only the stars for company, you were dragging your feet as you were walking in the hopes of hitting a camping site soon. You had heard good rumours of one not far away from the town you are putting in your rearview mirror. Metaphorically of course, with no driving liscense or car, all you had to get from one place to another were your shoes and your bravery.

It had been a couple of months since you left home. Whenever you had the opportunity to sleep, you could still hear the shouting and the slamming of doors when your father finally threw you out for good. The home in question had never felt safe for you anyway, you had never fit into the small town cookie cutter they tried to press you into, even when it drew blood.

After all that, you might be best off alone you concluded, and have stuck to that as you made your way through the US. There was nowhere in particular you wanted to go, you just did not want to be tied down anywhere. You wanted to see, explore and feel.

You had been dabbling in hitchhiking over the months, always sending a silent prayer to gods you did not believe in before getting into the strange cars. With a knife always in the pocket of your hoodie, you felt relatively secure that you could defend yourself if worse comes to worse. Yet you knew you can never truly know. You tried to keep your head on you still.

There had not been any cars on the road you were currently occupying for the past two hours. It had, for a glorious moment, felt like yours. Just you and the pavement and the night. So, when the headlights lit you up for behind, you grew a bit weary. Part of you wanted to jump in it, unsure of how long you had left until the campsite, tired to the bone, but you knew you shouldn’t at this hour.

But you were also so incredibly tired.

The rumble of the engine neared closer and the driver dimmed the headlights. On your left, the car drove into view, an old beat up truck, and it was slowing down to stop beside you. Leaning over the passenger seat, a young man peered out through the rolled down window, a messy head of freshly dyed hair shining like a beacon in the dark. He watched you with a face torn between curios and cautious.

“You good?” he called out, trying to be heard over the noise of his car.

You didn’t answer right away. Instinct told you to keep walking, to keep your head down and stay invisible like you’d been doing all night. But something about him made you stop.

You squinted through the light. “What do you think?”

He let out a breathy laugh, the kind that was more habit than humor. "Yeah, didn’t think so." His voice was rough, not unfriendly, but sharp around the edges. He glanced down the empty road and then back at you. "Need a ride or something?"

Every ride so far had been a risk, a quiet leap of faith, and it wasn’t like you had a good track record with trusting people. Your parents had made sure of that, kicking you out like it was nothing, like you were the problem for being too loud, too you.

Still, you couldn’t keep walking forever. And there was something intriguing about this boy, out here alone in the night, just like you.

“I guess that’s where we’re at tonight,” was your response, and he nodded immediately with a halfsmile.

“Fair enough. Where you headed?”

“Anywhere but here.”

“Same,” he said, and for a moment, the two of you just stared at each other across the empty road. Something about him felt different — like he wasn’t just another passerby. You weren’t scared. Maybe that should’ve worried you.

He threw the passenger side door open. “You coming, or what?”

"Depends," you said, raising an eyebrow. "You a serial killer or something?"

He smirked, but there was a hint of something darker in his eyes, something guarded. "Not tonight."

"Comforting," you deadpanned, but you found yourself stepping closer to the truck anyway.

He watched you climb in with a kind of steady calm, like he was waiting for you to make the call. There wasn’t an ounce of threat in him, no leering or weird comments, just quiet, detached curiosity.

The truck smelled faintly of gasoline and something else, something metallic that made the back of your throat tighten, but you ignored it. There was a quiet ease to him, though, like he wasn’t thinking of you as prey – like he wasn’t thinking of you at all, really. He just… was. And it felt like enough.

The silence stretched between you as the truck rumbled down the road. Finally, you turned to him, curiosity itching at your thoughts.

“So, you pick up girls off the side of the road often, or am I just lucky?”

He gave you a side glance, something like amusement tugging at the corners of his lips. “Lucky’s a word for it.”

There was something raw in his eyes when he said it, a guarded edge you recognized. You didn’t push it. 

“I heard there is a campsite in the town over, I was thinking of maybe staying the night there,” you said, not wanting him to feel stuck with you in the car forever.

“The Meadows Site? Yeah, I was actually thinking of parking there for the night myself,” he said, giving you a curious glance before looking back to the road. “But it is a few more hours off.”

“Wow, I really am lucky you picked me up then.”

He snorted at that, a sound you somehow hadn’t expected to escape from him, but was amused to hear. You didn’t feel a need to chat further at the moment, and didn’t get the impression he did either. It was not uncomfortable though, the opposite actually. The atmosphere in his truck was comforting, to the point where you would almost fall asleep, though you really should not. Still, there was one thing left to ask.

“What’s your name, kind stranger?” you quipped, teasing tone evident in your voice. He smiled fully then, relaxing more into his seat.

“Lee. And yours, lucky girl?”

You told him your name and settled back into your seat yourself, watching the stars blur into the dark as the truck carried you further and further from everything you’d ever known.

***

It turned out you both had nowhere to go. No one waiting for you at the end of the line. No real reason for him to drive off without you the morning after your night spent in Meadows Site. He had borrowed you a blanket to lay on, thicker than the one you had been surviving on for a while now. After eating breakfast at a shop nearby that he showed you, clearly more familiar in the area than you, it just made sense to get back into the truck with him. That’s how you both rationalised it, as your eyes sparked with interest and entertainment whenever they met. Just made sense.

From that day, Lee’s truck became the closest you had had to a home in months. Maybe even years.

The miles between you and the world grew, but so did the distance between you and the versions of yourselves you left behind. You had nothing to offer each other apart from company, and nothing to lose from spending your days with one another. 

It became easy, almost too easy. Long stretches of road, music humming through the truck's radio, filling the space between the two of you. Conversations about nothing that meant everything — favorite songs, old memories that still hurt, silly stories from childhood, tragedies that were so massive it became intrinsically hilarious to you both, Stories you told in the dead of night when the world felt softer, more forgiving. 

Lee felt true in a way no other had. His company was comfortable, natural. A genuine friend that you could tease, maybe even flirt with a little when the mood struck. Nothing serious you would say. All in good fun, teenagers cruising through the Midwestern countryside.

It felt like forever, though it had only been a few weeks. The truck was a much better bed than the thin blanket you had relied on since you left the house you grew up in. You’d sleep in the backseat, sometimes curled up in the trunk with blankets piled up like a nest. On rare occasions, when exhaustion weighed you both down, you’d spring for a cheap motel, a temporary reprieve from the road.

The more you got to know Lee, the more that sense you had gotten about him on the night you met grew. Something was different about him, something you could taste on your tongue, a kind of unspoken understanding that simmered beneath the surface. You couldn’t explain it, not exactly, but there was something in Lee that reminded you of someone else. It wasn’t just the way he moved or the sharp look in his eyes – it was the way he held himself, the way he watched people, sizing them up like he knew more about them than they’d ever want to know.

You had known someone like that before.

Your uncle.

Your family never talked about him, not after he disappeared, but you remembered the day it happened like a movie in your mind. The last time you saw him. He had come to visit, just passing through, or so he said. You were young, but not young enough to forget the blood that stained his clothes, how his face was drawn, pale, like he was barely holding it together. How his teeth were off-white in a way you had never seen before. He had brushed it off when you asked him, saying he had gotten into a fight, nothing serious, but the way he smelled… it stuck with you.

The metallic tang of blood, the way it clung to him even after he cleaned up, how his eyes seemed wild and unfocused in the dim light of the kitchen. You could never explain it to someone without sounding insane. But yet somehow, you knew what he was. You knew.

Your parents didn’t say much about it then. They just watched him with wary eyes, their faces tight with something close to fear, though they never admitted it. When he left, they didn’t even look at that, and once he was gone they removed all photographs. They never mention him again, not even when you asked. It was like he had never existed. Like he had never even been part of the family.

You never met someone like him again, someone you could feel deep in your bones.

Until Lee. The Lee you looked at as he drove nonchalantly down roads, almost too relaxed to be sitting in a driver’s seat. He made all those pieces you had tucked away begin to slot together, forming a picture that put words to your instincts. The way your uncle had looked that night, the way your own body sometimes seemed to hum with something restless, it was all there, just waiting for you to acknowledge it.

You did not bring it up to him, it never seemed natural. And honestly, you didn’t feel the need to. For some reason, the idea of it all didn’t bother you. Lee was just Lee still, your road companion.

One night, you and Lee had parked the truck somewhere far off the main road, the stars stretched out like a tapestry above you. It was late, the kind of late where the world felt quieter, where the darkness seemed deeper, more honest. You were lying on a blanket in the bed of the truck, side by side, the silence between you comfortable but heavy, like something was waiting to be said.

The two of you had shared a lot already, more than you thought you had in you to share. He was still technically a strange man to you, it had not yet been a month. Still, you felt a bond with him you could not explain. His presence brought you peace in a world too large for you to grasp.

You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, the way his fingers twitched restlessly by his side, like he was working through something in his head. Lee had been quieter than usual lately, more thoughtful, more distant. You didn’t push him – he was always like that, a little withdrawn when he was trying to sort through whatever was going on in his head. But tonight, it felt different. More pointed.

Finally, he broke the silence.

"Do you… know?"

The question caught you off guard. It was so vague, so quiet, that for a second, you weren’t sure if you had heard him right. You turned your head to look at him, but his eyes were still fixed on the stars above, his expression unreadable in the dim light. There was something in his tone, though. Cautious, like he wasn’t sure how you would answer. Like he was afraid to hear it.

You swallowed, your heart picking up speed. "Know what?"

His jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tightening as he shifted slightly, still not looking at you. It seemed like he had hoped you would not ask. He was always careful, always measured with his words, but this time, you could tell he was holding something back. He exhaled slowly, and then, without turning his head, he said it again, this time more direct.

"About me. About what I am."

There was no uncertainty in you about what he was referring to. There it was, the thing you had been skirting around, the thing neither of you had spoken aloud. You knew, deep down, that this conversation had been coming for a while, with all the time you spent together, but now that it was here, the weight of it felt like a stone settling in your chest.

Your mind raced, memories of your uncle flashing through your thoughts, the blood on his hands, the way your parents had never spoken about him again. The way it all lingered in you like electricity. 

You nodded slowly, your voice quiet. "Yeah. I know."

Lee didn’t move, didn’t say anything for a moment, but you could feel the tension radiating off him, the way his body seemed to coil like a spring, ready to snap. His fingers drummed lightly against the truck bed, a habit he had when he was nervous, though he’d never admit it. 

You wondered how he knew to ask you, if he had seen it in your eyes. You guessed you could ask him. But this moment hung in the air between you with such fragility. It felt like something had shifted irreversibly between you, and you were not yet certain if it was a good thing or not.

When he finally spoke, his voice was rough, strained. "And you… don’t care? Or what? You don’t wanna leave?"

You turned to him fully, propping yourself up on your elbow to get a better look at his face. The starlight cast shadows over his sharp features, but his eyes—his eyes were clear, burning with something raw, something vulnerable he never let anyone else see. They were straining to remain trained on the sky.

"I’m not scared of you, Lee," you said softly, your voice steady but firm. "Or of it. I know who you are. And I know you’re a good person."

Lee’s breath hitched, just for a moment, barely noticeable, but you caught it. His eyes finally flickered toward you, the walls he kept up so carefully starting to crack. He looked like he wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t come. He just stared at you, a thousand thoughts racing behind his eyes, none of them quite making it out.

He swallowed hard, his voice dropping even lower when he finally spoke. "You don’t even know what I’ve done."

"I don’t need to," you said, your gaze locked on his. "I know you. I’ve been with you this long, and I think I have known all along. And I’m still here."

He stared at you for a long moment, his brow furrowed like he couldn’t believe what you were saying, like he was waiting for you to change your mind. But when you didn’t, when you just kept looking at him like none of it scared you, like you weren’t about to run, something in him seemed to shift. The tension in his shoulders eased, just a little, and he let out a slow, shaky breath.

"Why are you not afraid?" he asked, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

You shook your head, almost wanting to laugh. “You’re just Lee to me.”

Lee looked away again, his eyes tracing the stars, but his mind was far from the night sky. The silence stretched between you once more, but this time, it wasn’t heavy with tension. It felt lighter. Like a weight had been lifted, even if he wasn’t ready to say it yet.

You settled back in beside him, arm grazing his. Comfortable. 

For the first time in a long while, Lee let himself relax. He was always aloof, physically all over the place, but his mind remained alert. Now, he let it fall onto the pillow your words provided. He realized then, though he didn’t say it out loud, that the tightness in his chest, the thing he had been fighting for weeks, it wasn’t just nothing. He didn’t want to think the word, let alone say it. It had crept in slowly, so quietly that he hadn’t noticed it until it was staring him in the face. 

Love didn’t feel safe to him. Love was complicated, messy. Dangerous, even. And yet, here you were, sitting beside him, telling him you weren’t afraid, telling him you knew who he was and that it didn’t matter. That you’d stay.

It was a feeling he didn’t know how to name. Not yet.

He turned back to you, his eyes softer now, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You’re really not gonna leave, huh?"

You laughed a little at how he shared it like a revelation, shaking your head. "Nope. You’re stuck with me."

Lee let out a breathy laugh, a sound that seemed to ease the last bit of tension between you. He looked at you, really looked at you, and for the first time since he met you, he felt something close to hope. He didn’t say it, but in that moment, he knew he’d do whatever it took to keep you by his side.

"I could get used to that," he murmured, his voice quiet but sincere.

And as the two of you sat there, side by side under the stars, the unspoken understanding between you deepened, solidified. You weren’t leaving. You weren’t afraid. And for Lee, that was enough.

You fell asleep side by side, just you and the stars.

***

Nights passed like that, over weeks and months, with you and him slowly gravitating closer. 

Whether it be in the seats of the truck or the trunk, you always slept near each other. Originally you slept on either side of the trunk, or in each your seat, but as you spent most of your nights talking until either one of you passed out, it just felt natural to be close by.

Waking up with your limbs accidentally having gotten entangled, faces closer than you ever would be when conscious became a norm. The first time it happened, Lee woke first, but did not move until you woke, revelling in the touch of your body against his. Eyes studying your calm face, fully convinced this would be his only opportunity to be this close to you. When you came to, he pretended your movements woke him.

Neither of you spoke of it. There was no need to. Some things didn’t need words.

The more you got used to waking up entangled, the more intimate it became. You would find yourself laying on top of Lee’s chest, or his face would be tucked into the crook of your neck. Once this started happening, you both happened to begin to prefer sleeping in the trunk.

Despite your increasing comfort with each other, the nights were never completely peaceful. Sometimes you would wake up to find him gone, wandering somewhere. It was usually in the aftermath of a nightmare, but you also knew that he sometimes had other reasons for being gone.

You woke up in the middle of the night, the truck’s trunk feeling too empty, too cold. Instinctively, your hand reached over the space where Lee usually lay beside you, but all you felt was the crumpled fabric of his jacket. He wasn’t there. For a few seconds, you blinked in the darkness, groggy, your mind slow to catch up with the situation. The air felt wrong, too still, too quiet. That was when you noticed the faint sounds of movement just beyond the trees, down near the creek.

When possible, you two tried to park near a body of water, so you had the opportunity to wash up. You had also mentioned to Lee how relaxing you found lakes, and he started planning his routes around it after that.

You could hear heavy breathing and splashing by the water. Without thinking, you slipped out of the trunk, pulling on one of Lee’s hoodies he had discarded beside your blankets, and you quietly padded down toward the sounds. The moon hung low over the horizon, casting long shadows across the water, and that was when you saw him.

Lee was crouched near the edge of the creek, his shoulders tense, his hands dipped in the water. The pale light from the moon caught on his skin, but more than that, it illuminated the dark smudges smeared across his neck and arms. Blood.

He had not heard you yet, too focused on what he was doing – trying to scrub the blood away with frantic, almost desperate movements. He was shaking, his body too tense, like he was on the verge of unraveling. His shirt was torn at the shoulder, the material soaked in water and blood. His hair, usually a mess of carefully maintained chaos, stuck to his forehead in sweat-soaked strands.

For a moment, you didn’t move. You just watched him, heart aching at how broken he looked. It wasn’t like the Lee you were used to. This wasn’t the confident, quippy guy who could brush off anything with a smirk. No, this was the other side of him, the side he didn’t let you see. The one that carried all the weight of what he did, of who he was. The one that bled in more ways than just physically.

“Lee?” Your voice was soft, careful. You didn’t want to startle him, but you couldn’t just stand there, watching him like this.

He froze for a moment, his hands stilling in the water. He didn’t look up at you right away, just stared down at his own reflection rippling in the creek. “Go back to the truck,” he said, his voice rough, a little shaky. “I’m fine.”

But you could hear it. He wasn’t fine. Not even close.

A closer look at where he was sitting, you could see that he wasn’t fine physically either, his torn shirt revealing scratches across his upper body, bruises already forming along his arms in the moonlight. Whoever encountered your Lee tonight had put up a fight.

You ignored him, stepping closer, your bare feet sinking into the wet grass near the water’s edge. “You’re hurt.”

He let out a harsh breath, finally looking up at you. His face was pale, a little gaunt under the moonlight. His eyes, usually so sharp and full of something unreadable, were glassy. “It’s nothing,” he muttered, turning back to the water. “I’m just cleaning up.”

But you could see the way his hands trembled, how his movements were too rough, too quick, like he was trying to scrub the guilt away more than the blood. You stepped closer until you were beside him, crouching down at his level.

“Lee, look at me.”

He didn’t. His jaw tightened, and he kept scrubbing, the water turning pink as it mixed with the blood on his skin. 

"Lee," you said again, firmer this time, reaching out to gently touch his arm. 

He finally stopped, his hands hovering just above the surface of the water, but still wouldn’t look at you. “You weren’t supposed to see this,” he muttered, voice raw. “You weren’t supposed to—” He cut himself off, his shoulders hunching forward like he was folding into himself. “Shit.”

"What is wrong with me seeing this?" you asked quietly, your fingers tracing the outline of a bruise forming along his arm. "Why do you have to fix it yourself?"

He swallowed hard, still staring at the water. "Because you don’t need to deal with this. With me. You didn’t sign up for… any of this." His voice wavered at the edges, frustration mixing with exhaustion.

You shook your head, biting back the sting in your own chest. "You think I care about blood? About this? I knew what I was getting into, I told you so. If you’re hurt, I want to help."

He finally looked at you then, his expression flickering with something like disbelief. “You shouldn’t have to… see me like this. Like some… fuckin’ monster. No, no.”

“You’re not a monster,” you said firmly, and you didn’t waver. You tightened your grip on his forearm. You could see the bruises, the blood streaking down his neck in shapes that looked like somebody had scratched at him, put up a fight. You saw the way he clenched his jaw like he was holding everything in, trying not to crack open. You saw the way his eyes flickered with guilt, shame, like he couldn’t stand himself in that moment. The same boy that laughed with you in the car, who played jokes on strangers. Who usually tried to seem totally content with this lifestyle of his.

"Yes, I am," he whispered, his voice breaking. "You don’t… understand what it’s like. To have to do this, to –"

"I don’t have to understand everything," you cut him off, your hand sliding up to his neck, gently brushing through his damp hair. "But I know you. And I know you don’t have to do this alone. That is my choice, and I choose to be here for you."

He let out a shaky breath, his eyes closing for a brief moment like he was trying to pull himself together. But when he opened them again, you saw the vulnerability in them, the rawness that he tried so hard to keep hidden. He was struggling, fighting to keep himself together, to not fall apart in front of you.

You sat down beside him fully now, your knees brushing his, your hand still resting at the back of his neck. “Let me help.”

He hesitated, his pride fighting against the offer, but he was too tired to resist for long. Slowly, he nodded, his body slumping in defeat as he let you take over.

You helped him take of his torn t-shirt, leaving him bare to reflect the moonlight, and dipped it into the creek. The cold water soaking through the fabric as you carefully brought it back up to his skin, gently wiping away the dried blood from his face, his arms. He winced slightly when you dabbed at a few deeper cuts near his ribs, but he didn’t pull away.

"You don’t have to pretend with me," you said quietly, your eyes focused on cleaning him up. "You don’t have to be strong all the time."

Lee didn’t respond right away. He just watched you, his eyes following the way you moved, the way your touch was soft, careful. He let out a low breath, something like relief mixing with the exhaustion in his voice. “I hate that you’re seeing me like this.”

“Why?” You glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Because you’re hurt? Or because you’re human?”

He laughed roughly at that, shaking his head slightly. “I haven’t felt human in a long time.”

You paused, your hand stilling for a moment before you continued cleaning the blood from his neck. “You feel human to me.”

He went quiet again, his eyes studying you, the way you didn’t flinch, didn’t shy away from the mess of him. For a long time, neither of you spoke. The only sound was the gentle ripple of the creek as you worked, the soft splash of water as you wrung out the bloody fabric.

“He-” Lee began but his voice broke. You were patient, continuing to tend to him as he seemed to wrestle with whether to continue the sentence. Eventually: “He was a bad guy. I always try to make sure they are.”

It broke your heart to hear the pleading undertone of what he was saying. What he was trying to convey to you.

You weren’t entirely sure what the best response was, but you settled on telling him you believed him.

When you were done, you leaned back slightly, your hands resting on your thighs as you looked him over. He still had some bruises that would take time to heal, but most of the blood was gone, his skin clean again under the moonlight. None of his scratches were in need of any serious medical intervention, but you made a mental note to stop by a pharmacy in the morning regardless.

“There,” you said softly, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “Better.”

Lee stared at you for a moment longer, his eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite place. Then, without warning, he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. His voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke. “You shouldn’t have to take care of me like this.”

You closed your eyes, your hands resting lightly on his shoulders. “I want to.”

For a long moment, he didn’t move, just stayed there, eyes closed and his forehead resting against yours. His breath slowly steadying as he let himself lean on you, just for a little while.

“Thank you,” he murmured, so soft you almost didn’t hear it.

You smiled slightly, your hand moving to the back of his neck again, gently threading your fingers through his hair. “I told you. You’re not alone.”

“Not alone,” he mumbled and wiggled his forehead against yours briefly before pulling back and getting up.

He stretched a hand out to you, ready to pull you back with him to the truck.

***

A few states had ended up in your rearview mirror since you turned that creek pink and your hearts slightly softer. The atmosphere between you had shifted yet again, growing deeper and deeper each time. There was no acknowledgement of it, but there didn’t need to be. In the unspokeness, you could grow bolder. The touches, the glances, they took up more and more space in your increasingly small truck. You would yet again wake up in each other’s arms, and it no longer felt accidental.

It was the small things, too. The way his hand would brush yours when you walked side by side, or how he let his fingers linger a moment longer when you passed him something. The way your legs would press together in the truck when you shared the cramped front seat, neither of you moving away. Sometimes, when the truck was pulled off the road and you were both leaning against it, talking under the stars, his knee would bump against yours, and instead of pulling back, he let it stay there.

It felt like you were both waiting for something. The tension was not sharp, it was warm, almost inviting. You both knew what was next, but neither of you had made the move to cross that last, thin line.

You and Lee had spent the evening like you always did—driving, talking, letting the hours slip away into easy silences and the occasional laugh. Planning where to head to next. You had decided to drive to see the silliest places you could find, asking random strangers was the weirdest tourist attraction they have heard of is. On the list is Ben and Jerry’s Flavor Graveyard, the world largest ball of paint and a nuclear waste adventure trail. The night had come over you, and you ended up parked on the outskirts of a town, the lights from them illuminating you even in the dark. The two of you sat on the hood of the truck, your legs dangling off the edge, shoulders brushing.

He was quieter tonight. You could sense it in the way his gaze kept drifting over to you, then back to the stars. His hand rested on the metal beside you, his fingers tapping a slow rhythm, like he was thinking through something he had not decided on yet. But it wasn’t the usual restlessness that seemed to rule Lee’s entire existence. This was something different. Something quieter.

You nudged him gently with your shoulder. “You’re awfully quiet for a guy who never shuts up.”

He huffed a laugh, his head tilting toward you, that familiar smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

“Ironic, isn’t it?”

You smiled, your eyes catching the faint light of the stars reflecting in his. It was moments like this that you felt the pull most strongly – the way his face softened when he wasn’t trying to keep his guard up, the way he let you see parts of him he didn’t show anyone else. There was something magnetic about Lee when he wasn’t hiding. It made you want to keep his doors open, to take them off their hinges.

His hand shifted, almost imperceptibly, his fingers brushing against yours on the deck of the trunk. It was barely a touch, just the faintest hint of skin against skin, but you felt it like a jolt, a reminder of how close you both were. You didn’t pull away, and neither did he. 

The silence stretched between you again, thick with something unspoken. It struck you how much serenity you felt in your soul in the silences with him, even when there was something brewing in it. You could feel him beside you, the warmth of him, the way his breath had slowed, his body still as if he was waiting for something.

Your fingers twitched, brushing against his again, and this time, you didn’t hesitate. You turned your hand over, palm up, an invitation as much as it was a question. Lee glanced down at your hand, and for a moment, you thought he might pull away, like he had so many times before. But instead, his fingers curled slowly around yours, his grip gentle but sure, and your breath caught in your throat.

Neither of you spoke. The understanding that had hung between you for weeks was right there, all you had to do was lean into it.

“Lee,” you whispered, not even sure what you were asking. You liked having his name in your mouth. 

He turned his body towards you at his name, shifting closer, eyes locked on yours. You could see the hesitation there, the way his brow furrowed slightly, like he was still fighting something inside himself, still holding back.

But you weren’t. Not anymore.

You leaned in, closing the space between you before you could second-guess yourself, your lips brushing his softly, testing. Just once, enough to give him an out, enough to say I’m here, if you are.

For a moment, nothing happened. Lee stayed perfectly still against you, his breath caught, his fingers tightening around yours. Then, slowly, almost tentatively, he leaned in further, his lips pressing back against yours, soft and warm. Open mouthed, lovingly.

It wasn’t rushed or desperate like you might have imagined. It was careful, deliberate, like he was letting himself feel it for the first time, like he wanted to make sure it was real. His free hand came up, brushing lightly against your jaw, his fingers tracing the edge of your face, almost as if he was afraid you might disappear if he didn’t hold on.

You deepened the kiss further, savouring his touches, the feeling of his tongue against yours. Your hand glided up to his chest, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. Slow but steady, the tension between you finally breaking in the gentlest way possible. It was like everything that had been building between you – every touch, every glance, every unspoken word – was spilling into that moment, into the way his lips moved against yours, into the way he held you like you were the only thing to hold.

When you finally pulled back, your foreheads rested against each other, your breaths mingling in the cool night air. Lee’s eyes were still closed, his thumb brushing over your cheek as if grounding himself in the moment, his lips parted, trying to catch his breath.

You stayed like that for a while, it didn’t matter how long. Few things mattered, you had found. Lee did. 

When he finally opened his eyes, they were unguarded in a way you hadn’t seen before. He didn’t smile, but the look in his eyes said enough. He was here, with you, in whatever this was.

He whispered your name, a late response.

You hummed with a smile, your fingers still tangled in his shirt. No words were needed. There were none that could be said, not now, not yet. 

Lee chuckled softly, a sound that felt more like relief than anything else. He slid down from leaning against the truck, to laying on the deck, still not letting go of your hand. You followed suit, for the first time purposefully laying your body half on top of his, head resting on his chest. 

No more waiting.

There was a whole civilisation right before you, just out of reach, but for the first time in a long time, you weren’t thinking about the next destination. You were here, together, and that was all that mattered.

***

Once that barrier was breached, you and Lee found yourself stealing kisses of varying intensity more often than not. There was no label on the two of you, with your pasts you both were guarded from being the first to admit the intensity behind your actions. Yet, the need to be close was not dissipating as the days passed, if anything it only grew the more of a taste you got for each other.

One night, you found yourselves at a dive bar on the edge of some no-name town. The music thumped through the walls, too loud and too fast, but it matched the energy buzzing between you and Lee. The dim lights made everything look a little hazy, like the whole world was moving in slow motion. Lee leaned against the bar, his back to the crowd, his eyes fixed on you as you stood close to him, sipping on a cheap cider that barely tasted like anything. He hadn’t drank much tonight, which made the way he was looking at you feel even more intense.

There was something magnetic about him, the way he carried himself, the way his arm seemed to naturally find its way around your shoulders when in public, protective and possessive without being overbearing. You could feel the heat of his skin through your clothes, and you leaned into it, enjoying the comfort of his touch. 

It was late, and the air between you was only magnifying your need for him, his fingers barely touching yours on the bartop like he was daring you to pull him closer. He only moved them to order another round from the bartender, shooting you a wicked grin.

“Thoughts?” he asked you as he handed you your new drink.

“This place isn’t too bad. The guy at the bar isn’t either.” The smile you flashed him was teasing and he all but rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, I guess we’re both alright.”

You were about to make some quip about his soft spot for dive bars when a figure caught your eye, and you tensed. A guy had sidled up to the bar a few feet away, his eyes fixed on you, too interested, too familiar. You glanced at Lee, but he was already clocking the guy, his body going still beside you, though his expression didn’t change.

The guy stumbled closer, his drink sloshing in his hand. “You two look like you’re having a good time,” he slurred, his gaze flicking between you and Lee with a smirk that made your skin crawl.

Lee’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t look away from the guy. His look could draw blood, but his voice stayed calm, almost flat. “We were.”

The guy either didn’t notice your discomfort and Lee’s adverse stance, or he just didn’t care. He leaned in a little closer, still grinning like this was all a joke. “Come on, man. Just trying to talk to her.”

You didn’t have time to respond before Lee shifted, his arm moving in one fluid motion to slide around your waist, pulling you against him in a way that felt natural, like he was drawing a line in the sand. “She’s not interested,” he said, voice low and steady, but you could feel the warning beneath the surface.

The guy blinked, clearly caught off guard by Lee’s calm intensity, and he let out a nervous laugh. “Hey, man, no need to get all protective. Just having fun.”

Lee kept staring him down, his grip on you tight, steadying you as much as he was putting space between you and the guy. “Well, you’re done,” he said, still in that same measured tone, like he wasn’t giving the guy a choice in the matter. “Go back to your drink.”

He raised his hands in mock surrender, backing off with a muttered, “Alright, alright. Chill.” Slunking back into the crowd, he cast a few annoyed glances over his shoulder, but lacked the bravery to follow up on his annoyance.

Lee’s body was still taut with that lingering tension, eyes scanning the room again before he finally let out a breath. He didn’t pull away from you though, his hand resting on your hip as if he needed the contact to remind himself that you were alright.

"You okay?" he asked quietly, his voice softer now as he finally looked down at you, concern flickering behind his eyes.

“Yeah,” you whispered, trying to take in what just happened and how swiftly Lee handled it. Never before have you gotten away from a situation with a creepy man so fast. 

“Are you?” you eventually asked, looking up to see his jaw still slightly clenched.

He nodded, his expression softening slightly as he glanced down to meet your eyes. "Yeah. Just don’t like guys like that."

You smiled a little, leaning into him, your hand resting lightly on his chest. "I noticed."

His lips quirked into a small grin, and it felt easy again, back to just the two of you, even in this crowded bar. "You ready to get out of here?" he asked, his voice low, his breath warm against your skin now that you stood so close.

“Think so.” You finished your drink and without another word, he took your hand, leading you out into the cool night air. 

The bar’s noise faded into the background as the two of you walked back to the truck, your fingers still intertwined with his. There was something about the way he was holding your hand that made your heart race. It was tighter than normal, his thumb brushing over your skin.

You stopped by the passenger side door and Lee immediatley closed the gap between you, pressing you gently against the side of the truck. His hands rested on your hips, it was as if he had realised he could place them there now. When his gaze met yours, his eyes flickered with something dangerous, something raw.

"You know," he murmured, his voice rough, "I will always protect you. In any situation.”

You almost didn’t know what to say. It was so simple, yet he poured so much emotion into those words, and you felt them entirely.

“I do know,” you whispered. “I have never felt safety like this before.” The last part felt like a confession more than an answer. 

Lee’s breath hitched and he laid his forehead against yours, leaning more of his body against yours, so you were flush between him and the metal of the car.

“I’ve been trying not to kiss you all night. You’ve made it difficult.” Lee looked into your eyes as he said it, searching your face for a reaction. His pupils were wide, gaze intense.

You felt a shiver run through you at his words, the heat between you burning brighter. "Then stop trying."

He didn’t need any more encouragement. His lips crashed into yours with a force that knocked the breath out of you, one hand sliding up to grip your face while the other remained held your hips tighter, closer. His kisses were always languid, open-mouthed and passionate. You wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers threading through his hair and pulling at it as you kissed him back with equal intensity, your body arching against his. His mouth was warm and demanding, and when he kissed you, it felt like everything else in the world fell away.

The kiss deepened quickly, his hands moving up under your shirt, the cool air mixing with the heat of his touch. His mouth trailed down to your jaw, your neck, each kiss igniting sparks along your skin. You gasped softly, tilting your head to give him better access, your fingers travelling to dig into the skin of his back

"God," he murmured against your skin, his voice rough and breathless, like he could barely control himself.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, merging under the stars, the truck a silent witness to the way your bodies moved together, the way you couldn’t seem to get close enough. You lost track of time, lost track of everything except the feeling of his lips on yours, his hands on your skin. He was beginning to become your Lee.

***

Living with Lee changed you in many ways, but the most important was that for the first time in your life, you felt free. Whether it was the boy’s attitude or his attentiveness to you, or the roads that stretched for miles like ink on paper, you settled into your own body and existence. You owned yourself and your destiny in a way you didn’t think possible.

As you shared more of yourselves with each other, you realised just how repressed you had been, just how much of you had been shut off. In your newfound safety in Lee, you could open up.

Things long locked away were stirring within you. Some painful, some exciting. And some, you didn’t have the words to describe yet.

For the time being, you were on a quest to a museum of the history of cheese that an old lady at a café had been raving to you about. It was another state over, but this sweet woman insisted it was worth it, and as you were the ones who asked her about a recommendation, you felt it only right to trust her word.

On the way there, you were stopping in a typical shittown, the kind where nothing really happens but somehow everyone knows everyone else’s business. Craving excitement after a long day in the car with your feet in Lee’s lap, you asked him to go looking through town for something to do. There was a bonfire party that night, something thrown together by a group of locals, and you figured that would do.

 The fire crackled in the center of the gathering in the middle of the forest, the air heavy with smoke and alcohol. Lee’s arm was slung loosely around your shoulders as you walked through, scouting the place.

"You wanna stay long?" he asked, voice low in your ear.

You shook your head, leaning into him a little. "Nah. Let’s just see how it goes."

He nodded, but you could feel the tension in him, like he was always keeping one eye on the crowd. That protective streak ran deep in him, and you couldn’t help but wonder where it came from.

The two of you settled down on a log by the fire, chatting with some locals and getting your kick out of listening to them drawl away about town drama. A man had been circling where you were sat, both you and Lee noticed, but he never approached.

Needing to get some water from the truck, you squeezed Lee’s leg and told him you’d be right back.

He let his arm fall from around you to let you up, but looked at you with concern. “Don’t be long.” You just smiled. He watched you go, his eyes lingering on you longer than you realized.

You were walking back with water in hand, still on the outskirts of the bonfire and shielded from view when you saw the man coming up towards you. He looked the exact same as every man who had been a bother to you since you began life on your own and your stomach soured.

"Hey," the guy’s voice was a slurred mix of alcohol and bravado, his grin too wide, too familiar. "Why’d you leave your pretty boy toy behind? Done with him and ready for me?"

Your skin prickled with unease, but you forced yourself to stay calm. “I’m good. You should head back.”

He ignored you, stepping closer. "Come on, don’t be like that. We’re vibing, right?"

He reached for you, his hand brushing your arm, and you jerked back instinctively. “Don’t touch me.”

The grin on his face faltered, replaced with something darker. “You’re just playing hard to get,” he muttered, his voice low and threatening now. "Girls like you always do."

“Back off!” you tried, but he took quick steps toward you.

Your heart raced, and before you could step away, his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist with bruising force. You twisted, trying to wrench yourself free, but he was stronger than he looked. His other hand moved to his pocket, and when he pulled out the glint of a blade, panic surged through you.

"Stop –"

"You’re not going anywhere –"

What happened next was a blur—a clash of instincts, fear driving your body into overdrive. He lifted the knife towards your throat, likely to threathen and not harm in the moment, but you could not wait to see how that would turn out. Your body moved before your mind could catch up, your hands lashed out, grabbing his wrist with one and prying the knife away with another. Suddenly the blade was in your hand, and when he threw himself on top of you, you shoved him off with one hand and used the knife with the other. 

It found its home in his neck.

You scrambled away, not yet realising what had just happened. At your hands. You stared at him in shock where he laid in front of you, the sounds sickening, wet gurgle as his throat opened up. Blood poured out in a thick stream, hot and fast, soaking his shirt.

In shock and desperation, you grabbed at the wound as if to counteract what you had just done, but he took that opportunity to grab you by the hair and neck, attempting to choke you. Fear surged through you once more, but his once-hard grip was already weakening and you could wrestle free.

By the time you recovered and looked up, the life had drained from his eyes. All you could hear was your breathing and the pulse in your head.

You could smell the blood. On your hands, on his clothes, still oozing from his wound. It was dizzying, the world becoming distant as you were trapped inside this bubble that consisted of the two of you. You and the corpse.

You realised you had never seen a corpse before, not in person. Smelling fresh blood was different from smelling it once it had harkened on Lee’s skin. Not even the thought of Lee could drag you out of the state you were slowly being pulled into.

Without fully acknowledging your movements, you moved back towards the man, the one who had wished you dead and died by his own knife. Your eyes were fixated on his wound, something building inside of you at a rapid speed. A coil built in your stomach, one you had known was there for essentially forever, without the ability to give it a name.

It snapped. And as it did, you leaned down and sunk your teeth into his neck.

Everything felt right, not the kind of comfortable right you had developed with Lee, it felt like your body was finally getting air after a long period of suffocation, it felt like water after a long run. It felt like a meal after having been starving.

Your face was buried further and further in the flesh, your mind completely void of all thoughts. Just your fingers and teeth, blood and bone. Feral, instinctive, lost in the hunger that just kept building, like it was never enough. 

"Shit."

A switch went off, and you were snapped back to reality. The smell of forest pine and moss, bonfire and smoke crept back in. As you slowly lifted your gaze, you saw him standing at the edge of the clearing, eyes wide, his face pale in the moonlight. His gaze was locked on you, and for the first time since you met him, you saw real shock on his face. Not fear exactly, but something close. Something you didn’t expect.

Horror.

“Lee…” Your voice broke, barely a whisper. The reality of what you’d just done hit you all at once, crashing into you like a wave. “Oh, God.”

Your eyes flashed back down and suddenly it was as if you realised you had a corpse at your feet. You scrambled backwards, breathing quickening, horrified and lost. You stared at your hands as tears were beginning to blur your vision, only worsened by how you couldn’t even see your skin’s colour through all the blood. Small curses kept spilling out past your lips as your eyes darted between the man, your hands and Lee.

“I– I didn’t mean to, I–” Your voice broke.

Lee took a step forward, his face still a mask of shock. For a moment, he just stood there, frozen in place, staring at the blood smeared across your skin. He’d always sensed something in you, always felt that you and him were the same in some way, but this… this was different. He hadn’t smelled it on you before. He had no idea.

“I didn’t– I don’t know what happened, I just–” You couldn’t make sense of it. Of anything. Your world was turned upside down.

“Hey.” Lee had made his way over to you, sitting on his knees in front of you. His voice snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts, low and firm but not harsh. He closed the distance between you grabbing your arm, pulling you up from the ground. His grip was steady, but there was urgency in it now. “We gotta go.”

You blinked at him, still in shock, the reality of what you’d done slowly settling in. “But –”

“I know, I know, okay?” He pulled on a piece of hair plastered to your skin by blood, tucking it behind your hair. “I get it. But we gotta go. Now.” His voice cut through your haze of confusion and guilt. He didn’t wait for you to respond, didn’t give you the chance to argue. He grabbed you by the waist, practically lifting you off your feet as he dragged you away from the body and into the trees.

The world around you blurred as he pulled you through the forest, his grip firm, unyielding. The pounding in your head drowned out everything else– the sound of the party, the crackle of the bonfire, the smell of blood still clinging to you. All you could think about was what you had just done. What it meant. What you were.

By the time you reached the truck, you were shaking, your breath coming in short, panicked gasps. Lee shoved you into the passenger seat, his hand still gripping your arm like he was afraid you might bolt. He climbed in beside you, slamming the door shut, his face hard and unreadable as he started the engine.

For a while, there was nothing but the hum of the road, the world outside the truck a blur of dark trees and empty stretches of highway. Lee didn’t say anything, his eyes locked on the road ahead, his grip tight on the wheel. Mind racing almost as fast as the car, as he sped down the highway, determined to get as far away from the scene as possible. You sat beside him, leaning your head on the dashboard in front of you as you tried to gather yourself. Your hands still trembling, blood still drying on your skin. 

You could barely breathe, the walls of the truck closing in around you. The reality of what you had done hit you again, harder this time. You had killed someone. Eaten someone.

You choked on a sob, tears already streaking the blood on your face. Your chest was tightening, your vision blurring. “Lee, I–”

There was no way for you to finish the sentence.

With your eyes clenched shut, hidden away, making yourself as small as possible in your seat, you couldn’t see the pained look he gave you. He needed to protect you by putting distance between you and the crime. But all he wanted was to pull you close.

“It’s okay. I will stop as soon as I can. It’s okay.” 

Eventually he caught eye of a discreet sideroad and veered the truck down it as fast as possible. He slammed on the brakes, parking the car on a plot of grass by a river. The engine cut off, leaving the night in a sudden, heavy silence. In the blink of an eye, Lee was out of the truck, opening your door to pull you out as well. You were too out of it, not processing anything that was happening. He ended up scooping you into his arms and carrying you bridal style down to the riverside. 

One bloody bride that is.

He sat you down by the water, his hands still firm on your arms, not giving you room to break down yet. "Sit here." His voice was softer now, but still edged with urgency. He knelt beside you, shrugging off his jacket and dipping it into the water. The cold night air hit your skin, but you barely felt it, still lost in the haze of panic.

You sat there, frozen, as he started to clean the blood off your hands, your arms, your face, as carefully as he could when hurrying. His touch was careful, deliberate, the way it had been when you first found him at the creek, battered and trying to clean himself up. But there was something different this time, something softer, more protective, like he wasn’t just cleaning the blood away, but trying to take some of the weight of it with him. Like he was saying, You don’t have to carry this alone. His jaw was clenched, eyes focused entirely on you, like he was trying to fix you, trying to put you back together piece by piece.

“Lee,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. “Am I–?” You couldn’t finish the sentence.

He paused, his hands stilling for just a second before he looked up at you. His expression softened, something breaking in his eyes. He reached up with a wet hand, brushing over your cheek and simultaneously cleaning some blood off. "You don’t have to be scared of it," he murmured, his voice low, steady. "Or of me."

You blinked, tears welling in your eyes. "I don’t understand."

“I’m here.” His fingers remained on your face, wiping away the tears before they could fall too far. “I’m not going anywhere. You hear me?”

You gave a faint nod. 

For a long moment, neither of you said anything, the weight of what had just happened hanging between you. He kept trying to get as much blood as possible off you, making you presentable again both in case someone saw you and to help you feel normal again. He didn’t try to explain it, didn’t try to rationalize it. 

“I didn’t mean to,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “He attacked me, I protected myself and then, then–”

“I know,” he said quietly, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “I know.”

Lee made sure your face and hands were free from blood, and then he helped you out of your stained sweater, leaving you in just your top underneath. He discarded it quick and turned back to you, grabbing your shaking hands.

“We need to move again, sweetheart” he said, voice low but certain. “We can’t stay too close.”

He stood up, reaching out to pull you up with him. His movements were quiet, purposeful. He didn’t rush you, but there was a tension in the air now, like he was calculating the next move. You could tell his mind was already working ahead, mapping out the quickest way to get you both far from the scene, far from the mess you left behind.

Your legs wobbled as you stood, your body still weak from the adrenaline crashing out of your system, but Lee’s grip on you was firm, guiding you back toward the truck. He opened the passenger door, helping you in before sliding into the driver’s seat. He tentatively took your hand with the one that wasn’t on the steering wheel, rubbing circles on it with his thumb as a silent comfort. The truck rumbled to life beneath you, and for a moment, all you could hear was the sound of the engine, drowning out the thoughts you didn’t want to face.

"I didn’t know it would feel like this," you whispered once you were back on the road, your voice shaking. "I never… I didn’t think I’d ever be like this."

Lee was quiet for a moment, his eyes trained on the road, like he was thinking carefully about what to say next. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and steady, though there was something distant in it, like he was pulling from his own memories. "First time I fed… I couldn’t stop shaking afterward. Not ‘cause of the blood. It was the way it felt. Right and wrong all at once. Like it was something I was supposed to be ashamed of, but my body just didn’t care."

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words hitting you in a way that made your chest tighten. It was exactly how you felt – the rush of power, the satisfaction of feeding, mixed with the horror of what you had done. You had never wanted this, but it was like your body had decided for you.

"I didn’t want to stop," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I didn’t even think about it. I just… gave in."

Lee turned to you, his eyes soft but serious, and for a moment, you could see the weight of his own guilt mirrored in his expression. "That’s what it does. That’s what the hunger is." He paused, his jaw clenching briefly before he continued. "It takes over. And once it does… it’s like you don’t have a choice anymore. You just need."

You shivered, wrapping an arm around your stomach, trying to shake off the phantom feeling of the blood on your skin, the taste of it still faint on your lips. "I’m going to need it now,” you said, the realisation setting in. “How do I handle that?”

He exhaled slowly, and you saw the streetlights reflected in his eyes as they grew somewhat glossy. "You learn. Little by little. You get to know the hunger, learn how to control it instead of letting it control you. I will help you with it. You won’t do it alone.”

The tears you’d been holding back started to spill over, and you turned away, trying to hide your face. "I don’t really know what to do with myself now.”

He remained quiet, just held your hand tighter. 

For a long while, you just sat there, letting the silence and the weight of his words wash over you. The night felt vast around you, you realised now that Lee had rolled down the windows for you. Likely to help you breathe better. You should have known Lee would understand, because of course he would. Yet, there had been fear that he would be angry, disgusted. He wasn’t, not even a little bit. If anything, he was calm. Steady. Like this wasn’t something that could break you.

He built a little bit of confidence you, even as you felt your insides caving in.

The road stretched out ahead of you in silence, the dark trees a blur outside the windows. Lee was counting the miles until it would be safe to stop for the night, just a little bit longer. The truck was filled by spiraling thoughts from you both.

Lee had to stop himself from going down a rabbithole of blaming himself. Thinking that he influenced you, that maybe, if you hadn’t met him you never would have discovered this part of you. He wanted to hate himself, he wanted to break down, but with every glance over at you he knew he couldn’t. Your feelings were what mattered tonight. He knew he needed to keep it together to guide you through it. 

You had been crying on and off for the past hour, struggling with too many emotions at once. To process the assault and the intense fear you felt. Guilt consumed you, but not necessarily for killing the man, as you knew you had to, but then you felt guilty about your lack of guilt, and it was a never ending spiral. You felt horrible about feeding on him, about the discovery that you were an eater. When it was Lee it didn’t bother you, because, as you had come to realise, you just loved him. You know he is good. But you? That one was harder.

Then, your mind went to more practical matters. You had killed someone, feasted upon their body and then abandoned it. There were so many layers of illegal in those actions, and a new kind of fear and panic grabbed you.

Lee had seen these emotions develop in his peripheral, subconsciously speeding a bit faster, looking for somewhere safe to stop.

Your chest began to tighten, the panic from earlier threatening to bubble up. “Lee…” Your voice cracked, barely holding itself together. “What if someone finds out?”

He glanced at you briefly, his face unreadable. “They won’t.”

“But–”

“We’re not going back. Not to that town, not anywhere near it.” His voice was firm, cutting through your panic with the same intensity he had used earlier. “By the time they realize anything, we’ll be long gone. We’re already long gone.”

His words were meant to be comforting, but they didn’t settle the storm in your chest. You squeezed your hands together, spotting some leftover blood around your cuticle. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, like the air in the truck was too thick, too stifling. The man’s corpse was laying on top of your lungs and you were suffocating.

“Lee… I…” You gasped, scratching at your skin, your vision starting to blur. You couldn’t catch your breath, couldn’t think past the overwhelming guilt, the horror of what you’d done.

He called your name, but you couldn’t register anything anymore.

The truck swerved again as Lee pulled off the road, gravel crunching under the tires as he pulled up to a small clearing, hidden behind a stretch of trees. An answered prayer. 

He immediatley turned to you, his brow furrowed with concern, his voice steady but laced with urgency. "Hey. Hey, breathe. Sweetheart, I think you’re having a panic attack."

You tried to speak, but your words got caught and you were doubling over in the space that felt more and more confining.

In a swift motion, Lee had pulled you over the console and into his lap, opening the door beside him to let in as much air as possible. He held you securely, tight grip meant to ground you as he tried to talk you down.

With a hand on your cheek, he made you meet his eyes. "Look at me. You gotta breathe, okay? In through your nose, out through your mouth. Focus on me."

You tried, but the panic had taken hold, your mind spiraling out of control. "I killed him. I killed him, and–"

"I know," Lee cut you off, his voice soft but firm. "You did. But it’s fine. It is fine, you are fine. I know. But you’re gonna be okay. You’re not in danger. Just breathe. Please breathe."

His words didn’t allow for you to argue, quelling your disagreements before you could make them. He cupped your face, stroking his thumb along your jaw, and exaggerated his breathing so you could follow it. In and out. He was so close, his eyes locked on yours, and for a moment, all you could focus on was him. He was pulling you back from the edge.

"Breathe," he repeated, his voice a low murmur. "That’s all you need to do right now."

You closed your eyes, following his lead, trying to pull air into your lungs the way he told you. In through your nose. Out through your mouth. Slowly, painfully, the tightness in your heart began to ease, your breath coming in shaky but more controlled gasps.

When you opened your eyes again, Lee was still watching you, his hand still gently cupping your face, his thumb brushing away the tears you hadn’t noticed falling. "There you go." His voice barely above a whisper. "Just like that."

You let out a shaky breath, leaning into his touch, your body still trembling but no longer on the verge of breaking. "I’m sorry," you whispered, your voice fragile and raw.

Lee shook his head, his gaze softening as he looked at you. "Don’t be. You didn’t do anything wrong."

You wanted to argue, to tell him that you had done something wrong, something unforgivable, but the way he was looking at you – like you weren’t broken, like you weren’t some monster, made the words die in your throat.

"I’ve got you," he whispered, his forehead resting against yours. "I always got you. You’re good."

The weight of his words, the certainty in them, settled deep in your chest, pushing back the panic, the fear. You weren’t alone in this. You had Lee. You always had Lee.

You stayed like that for a while, just sitting in his lap in the truck, your breath finally steadying as the night stretched out around you. You didn’t notice how hard you were holding onto Lee, clutching his shirt and even some skin, but he didn’t say anything either. He just stayed beside you, his hands never leaving you, grounding you, pulling you back from the edge every time the panic threatened to take over again.

You breathed together. Through it all.

After what felt like hours, he finally spoke, his voice quiet but sure. "Let’s get settled down, okay?”

You nodded, too tired to argue, too drained to do anything but follow his lead. Lee helped you out of the seat, his arm steady around your waist as he guided you down. He went around the truck, gathering the blankets from the backseat, more than he would usually grab, and set up your usual makeshift bed in the trunk as quickly as possible.

Together, you climbed into the softness he had created just for you. It felt odd to do something so familiar when it felt like everything had changed. Lee had not, still watching you, as he leaned back against the cab of the truck. You pulled on one of his sweaters, settling in beside him. He tangled your feet together and grabbed your hand, but didn’t initiate more than that, expectantly waiting for you to process your thoughts out loud with him.

Your eyes were slightly glossy again when you whispered, "Thank you."

He shook his head, immediately softening. "You don’t have to thank me."

"I do," you whispered, your voice catching. "You didn’t have to do any of this. And you did."

Lee’s hand tightened slightly on your knee, his thumb brushing over the fabric of your pants. "Of course," he said, his voice low but firm. "You’re stuck with me, remember?"

A small, broken laugh escaped you, something warm flickering in your chest. You looked up at him, tears blurring your vision, but there was a kind of quiet relief there, too. Lee’s gaze was steady, unwavering, like no matter what had happened, no matter how far you had fallen, he was there to pull you back.

"Lee…" you started, but the words caught in your throat, too many emotions swirling inside you to put into words.

He seemed to understand anyway. Without saying anything, he angled himself more towards you, his forehead resting against yours. The closeness, the way his body pressed gently into yours everywhere, was enough to calm the last of your racing thoughts. You let out a shaky breath, your hands reaching up to gently hold his face, your fingers brushing through his hair.

For a moment, you just stayed like that, your breaths mingling, the world narrowing down to just the two of you.

"I’ve got you," he whispered, his voice so soft it was almost lost to the night air. "You’re safe."

Something in his voice, the way he said it, made your heart clench. He had never said it out loud, but you knew. He tipped your chin up, meeting your lips with a searing kiss, one that felt like promise. 

It felt like forever before he pulled away, far enough to be able to see your eyes, searching your face for more hurt to quench. You could see his bottom lip quivering slightly before he said it.

"I love you.” 

Life stilled in the small clearing, and the weight of the past year came tumbling down on you. All you had done, all that had changed. How painful it had all been. How worth it it all was, to be sitting here in this boy’s arms now.

You took him in, your breath shaky. His words hung in the air between you, raw and real in a way that made your pulse race. 

He smiled, understanding your reaction. His forehead went back to yours, his hands cradling your face gently, his thumbs tracing slow, soothing circles against your skin. There was nothing aloof about him now. He was all here, in this moment, focused on you like nothing else mattered. "I'm serious," he murmured, his voice soft, the vulnerability in it something you'd never heard before. "I love you."

Your throat tightened, grappling with the weight of it all. "Still?" you whispered, your voice trembling. 

His grip tightened slightly, pulling you closer, his breath warm against your lips. "You think this scares me? You think any of this changes how I feel about you?" His gaze was intense, a burning passion that steadied you, even as your heart threatened to tear itself apart. "You’re still you. This doesn’t make you someone else. So, yeah. Still. Always."

Your heart soared, a flood of emotions you hadn’t expected surging to the surface. You kissed him again, slowly, just lips pressed against lips as you tried to calm yourself.  "I don’t know what life looks like for us now.”

"Then we’ll figure it out," he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Like there had never been another option. “Part of the fun, right?”

He pulled away just to kiss your forehead and temples, lingering there for almost a beat too long before pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. "You're not alone in this. I’m not letting you go through it alone. Got it?"

You blinked back the hot, stinging tears that threatened to spill over. The calm in his voice, the unwavering certainty in his eyes grounded you like no else. It felt impossible, but here he was, telling you that you weren’t lost, that he wasn’t leaving, no matter what happened.

"I need you, you know," he whispered against your cheek, kissing it once more. "I don’t think you get that."

You let out a shaky breath, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you pulled him closer. You clung to him. "I do," you said, your voice soft but firm. "I need you, Lee. Desperately."

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Then don’t overthink it." 

And before you could respond, his lips were on yours again, kissing you like it was the only thing keeping him alive. There was a quiet desperation in the way he kissed you, like every ounce of the feelings he couldn’t quite say were being poured into that moment. His hands cupped your face, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss as though he was trying to erase the space between you.

You kissed him back with the same intensity, your fingers tangling in his hair, your body pressing into his, craving the closeness, the connection. Everything else faded into the background, drowned out by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the warmth of his hands on your skin.

His lips left yours for just a moment, brushing against your jaw, then trailing down your neck, each kiss soft but deliberate, making your breath hitch. "I’m not going anywhere," he murmured again, the words muffled against your skin. "You’ve got me. No matter what."

You couldn’t find the words, so you kissed him again, your hands tightening in his hair, pulling him closer. He responded instantly, his arms wrapping around you, holding you tight against him as though he was afraid to let go, as though you might disappear if he loosened his grip.

For a long moment, the world was just the two of you. Nothing else mattered. It was just you and him, and the quiet understanding that you were in this together. 

When you finally pulled back, breathless, your forehead pressed to his, you let out a laugh, more from the relief of having him here than anything else. It made him give you a curios smile, just happy to see you regain some of your usual behavior.

 "So," you whispered, your lips brushing his as you spoke, "are you gonna say it again, or what?"

He let out a low chuckle, his arms still wrapped around you, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek. "I love you," he said, his voice warm, no hesitation this time. "I love you. I’m not scared to say it, even if you make me say it a thousand more times."

"Good," you murmured, leaning in to kiss him again, softer this time, but no less meaningful. "Because I love you too. And I’m not letting you go."

A faint smile tugged at his lips, and he kissed you back, slow and lingering, like he wanted to memorize the feel of you against him. When you finally pulled apart, you were both breathless, his forehead resting against yours.

"We’ll figure this out," he promised softly, his fingers tracing idle patterns along your arm. "Whatever happens, we will be fine. Together."

You nodded, your heart finally settling, a sense of calm washing over you. "Yeah. We will."

And with that, the two of you sank down into the blankets, the night quiet at last. Lee’s arm stayed wrapped around you, his lips pressing soft kisses to whatever exposed skin he could find, as if he couldn’t quite believe that you were real, that this moment was real. 

As you lay there, tangled together, the world felt a little less terrifying. You had each other, and somehow, that was enough.

[teyvat-imagines]

Hello! I read your last post about Diluc, Childe, and Kaeya cheating on their pregnant S/o and I was wondering if I can request the three of them meeting their child years after the whole event?

To make it a bit more angsty, the child explains to them that their S/o died after giving birth?

Hey there! Sorry this took such a long time to answer! D: I hope you still enjoy this! (If enjoy is the right word when it comes to angst at least? XD)

Original Post

TW: Cheating, Reader was cheated on, Character death

Part 2: Meeting Their Child

Diluc:

○ For Diluc, the memories of that day stayed with him. His choices haunted him for a long time, even more so when you chose to move away from Mondstadt as a result. You were heartbroken and it was entirely his fault.

○ The day you left, he watched you go. He had no right to try and stop you, not after what he had done. Diluc had made his choices and now he had to live with them. By some small miracle, you never told a soul what he had done to you, so no one ever blamed him for your leaving.

○ He tried to live a well-adjusted life. Donna moved in with him shortly after you left, which caused rumours to swirl of course, but nothing ever solid. Just idle gossip. Still, it stung, nonetheless. And they were right. His tryst with Donna had been the reason you left. He had cheated on you and no longer deserved to be part of your life.

○ Many years passed since that fateful day. Diluc carried on as best as he could. Donna eventually lost interest and the two went their separate ways. He never coupled with anyone else, constantly looking for you in the shadows of the city, praying to catch a glimpse of you.

○ One day it finally happed, he spotted you walking away from Good Hunters. Finally! A chance to apologise for that horrible mistake! He ran after you as fast as his legs could carry him, reaching out to grab your shoulder and-

"Who the hell are you!?"

○ Disappointment. A young adult glared back at him, shrugging off his grip. They looked almost exactly like you. A near perfect copy of you bar one feature. The eyes... They were exactly like his. Then this must be...

"Are you (Y/N)'s child...?"

○ Diluc was almost afraid to ask, but he had to know. There was confusion on the youth's face, until they finally realised who he was. Then, nothing but pure hatred and anger.

"You're Diluc I presume. Yeah, I am (Y/N)'s kid. Not that you care. You didn't give a shit about us then, why should you give a shit about me now. Or do you want redemption? Is that it? Well, it's too late. Far too late. So, leave me alone."

"Please, what do you mean by that?"

○ Clinging to desperate hope, Diluc grabbed onto his child once more. There was an ache in his chest, a fear waiting in the back of his mind. But, surely he was over thinking this... Surely he was wrong... Please let him be wrong.

"(Y/N)'s dead."

○ And just like that, Diluc's world shattered once more. He let his child walk away after that, too hurt and far too ashamed to pursue them anymore. He never thought this could happen. Never realised just how badly he had messed up all those years ago. Diluc lost you once that day, and now he's lost you again.

Childe:

○ Sometimes, Childe thought about you. When he was in the middle of a fight, when he woke up in the cold mornings and especially when he was with other lovers. He couldn't shake the image of you from his mind.

○ Does he regret what he did to you? Does he pity you? He's not really sure what this feeling is. But no matter how many years pass, you still come to his mind from time to time.

○ There were days when he considered trying to find you. It wouldn't take him long, not with the funds the Fatui offered him. Even without them, he was a dedicated warrior. With his senses there was no doubt he could track you down.

○ So why didn't he? Guilt? Fear? Who’s to say. Childe didn't really want to put too much thought into it if he could help it. So, he didn't. He ignored your presence; let you live out your life while he lived his. There was no need to make things messy now. What happened had happened.

○ Childe spent so long thinking he was free from his consequences he hadn't expected them to come back and hit him in the face. Quite literally at that.

○ Taking a stroll around Liyue Harbour, he'd had to vague feeling someone had been watching him. But he'd decided there wasn't much of a threatening presence to them so best to just ignore it and continue his day.

○ Just as he was leaving the city, that's when he was struck. A surprise attack, hitting him square in the face and knocking him off balance. He looked up at his attacker with an excited grin. It'd been a while since he'd had a good fight after all and-

"(Y/N)...?"

○ It couldn't be... It was you? You were coming for revenge after all these years? Really. He hadn't figured you for the petty type. Not that you ever had a hope of beating him. Still... Despite this, he made no efforts to raise his hands in retaliation. Childe just sat there, stunned. Even more so when his opponent spoke.

"Shut up. You don't get to say that name! Not after you left us! You Fatui scum! You're the reason this all happened..."

○ That voice wasn't yours, it wasn't anywhere close... So, this must be his kid. Despite the circumstances, Childe felt pride bloom in his chest. He had always hoped his kid would be a fine young warrior just as he was. But one thing was bothering him...

"What do you mean...? All of what happened?"

"(Y/N)'s dead. No thanks to you. I grew up alone. No family to help me and the only surviving parent was a deadbeat father who cheated on the only person who loved his stupid ass!"

○ Childe felt his world go cold. All that time he spent thinking of you and you were... You were gone... He... Had he really caused it...? There was no fight left in the Harbinger. Certainly not as his own flesh and blood drew their weapon, revenge burning in their eyes. Regardless of what happened here, whether he would live or die, Childe couldn't bring himself to care anymore. Not without you.

Kaeya:

○ Not long after you left him, Kaeya withdrew from the Knights of Favonius. He cited health problems as the reason, but it didn't take a trained eye to spot he was completely fine. Despite his nonchalant attitude when you walked away, there was a pain deep inside him that seemed to grow with each day.

○ Besides, this was surely the better option for you too! Surely you didn't want to see his ugly mug every day, right? So, with his mind made up and a soft farewell to his friends.

○ It stung a little to realise you weren't coming to see him off. But honestly, he couldn't blame you. He had hurt you after all, and quite badly at that. No, all he could do was move on and carry on with his life.

○ So that's exactly what Kaeya did. He travelled Teyvat. Running from his problems. From his mistakes. Kaeya lost track of how many years he stayed away from Mondstadt, but eventually he felt the need to return. Whether out of obligation or the assumption that it had been so long his crimes would be forgotten, either way Kaeya finally returned to Mondstadt.

○ He greeted many old friends upon his return, but there was one face he hadn't been able to find. Yours. No matter where he looked, you were nowhere to be seen. Had you left Mondstadt as well? Were you avoiding him somehow? Were you... Ill...?

○ Kaeya shook the last thought from his head, turning instead to the drink in front of him. Now was the time to celebrate, not get caught up in silly thoughts, right? Right! With that, he downed his mug and turned back to the barkeep, bumping into someone in the process.

"Watch it-! Wait... It's you... Kaeya..."

"Do I know you?"

○ Kaeya stared at the stranger and pondered. Their face was familiar sure, but he couldn't quite place it. Had it really been that long or was it the booze having an impact his memories... Either way, there was a feeling deep in his chest that told him he needed to remember who this was. It was important... The stranger scoffed, venom lacing their tone.

"Of course, you don't recognise me. Why would you. I bet we didn't cross your mind once when you left. Maybe you remember (Y/N). The person you cheated on. I'm your kid in case you were wondering."

○ Kaeya felt shock hit him like a mitachurl's axe. This was... So then, where were you? Why weren't you here? Could he get to see you finally? What would he even say? Could he even say anything at this point? So many thoughts raced and swirled in his mind, that the next words from his child's mouth froze him in place.

"(Y/N)'s dead by the way. Not that you'd care. You never did."

○ Anger boiled over in his kid and they lashed out, striking him square in the face. The dull ache in his cheek was nothing compared to the pain in his chest. You were dead... He would never get to see you again... The last memory he had of you was of the pain in your eyes as he betrayed your trust and love. And nothing was ever going to take this pain away.

[havenoffandoms]

Hey congrats on 900 followers! Would I be able to request the touch starved prompt from your list with the pairing Aiden/Lambert please? Love all your writing!

Hello!! Thanks for requesting this prompt and this pairing! I’ve been on a right Lambden kick recently, so I felt inspired. I hope you like it! 

Prompt 13: Touch-Starved

Pairing: Aiden x Lambert

Warnings: None

Prompt List

Lambert was apprehensive about many things concerning Aiden when the two started travelling together. Being stabbed to death in his sleep comes to mind, or having Aiden go all batshit crazy if Lambert dared to beat him at Gwent. Lambert has heard many rumours about Cat witchers in his long life. Cats are batshit crazy. Cats are emotionally volatile. Cats are backstabbing sons of bitches… literally and metaphorically. Cats are bad. Cats are evil, etc, etc. All these rumours circulated in Kaer Morhen long before Lambert even set foot in that ramshackle castle. He was too young to have witnessed the Tournament, but he heard the older witchers talk. Later in his life, when only a handful of wolf witchers were left after the sacking, Eskel gave Lambert a more detailed account of the Tournament.

“The Cats betrayed us, went on a rampage. Killed many wolf witchers in the process. Geralt and I lost many friends that day,” Eskel told him one evening, when the oldest surviving wolf was too far in his cup to notice that he was oversharing. “Radowit’s court mage Astrogarus promised the Cats monopoly on killing monsters within Kaedwen in exchange for attacking the Wolves during the tournament. Turns out Radowit was a backstabbing motherfucker himself. He ordered his soldiers to shoot all of the remaining witchers of both schools in the arena.”

“Lemme guess,” Lambert spoke, his own speech slightly slurred, “pretty boy saved the day?” 

Eskel shook his head. “Fled. Mousesack helped him escape the massacre. Poor bastard never forgave himself for abandonin’ our brothers, but what choice did he have?”

Don’t get Lambert wrong. He’s not saying that Aiden is harmless, far from it. The guy’s lethal with his swords, deadly with a pair of daggers, not to mention a stealthy and clever thief. Aiden is mercurial, hot-tempered and a bit feral when he wants to be, and his morals are at best dubious. Whereas wolf witchers had their emotions beaten out of them at a young age, cat witchers feel too much, too strongly. Lambert’s witnessed Aiden flip tables when peasants beat him at Gwent, but he’s also witnessed the Cat shed a tear after bringing the news to a mother that her son did not survive the ghoul attack two villages down the road. 

Lambert was apprehensive about many things concerning Aiden when the two started travelling together, but the Cat had never ceased to surprise him. The most unexpected trait Aiden has displayed to date is his insatiable need for physical contact. It’s not like Lambert hates being touched - he’s only human, albeit a mutated one, but still human. He enjoys a hug as much as the next person, especially when said hug comes from one of his brothers (or, dare he say, Vesemir) at the end of a long and difficult year on the Path. Lambert has also never begrudged a bed partner a post-coital cuddle session. Aiden’s need for physical contact is… on a whole different level. 

The first time it happened, Lambert almost shoved the Cat off him and sent him packing, until he realised that Aiden was not only hugging him, but clinging onto him. His sharp nails were digging in the soft material of Lambert’s shirt, the fabric creaking in protest under the firm grip. When Lambert looked down, he noticed the pinched eyebrows and tears trailing down Aiden’s face. It wasn’t until a broken sob pushed past the Cat’s lips that Lambert reluctantly returned the embrace, arms wound tightly around Aiden’s trembling body. Aiden eventually settled in the safety of Lambert’s arms, his features softening as he sank back into a peaceful slumber. 

Neither mentioned the previous evening’s impromptu cuddling session, but from that moment one, it was like someone had flicked a switch. Aiden came up with every possible fucking excuse to touch Lambert. Their hands would always accidentally graze each other when they packed up camp, or tacked up the horses. Aiden would bump shoulders with him when they were travelling on foot. If they sat next to one another in a tavern, Aiden would press his leg against Lambert’s, and if they were facing each other, a tentative foot would gently nudge Lambert’s shin and linger there. It’s not like Aiden was trying to hide his intentions, either. They rarely paid for two rooms anymore, because even if they did, Aiden would always end up in Lambert’s bed anyway, arms wound around Lambert’s body like a koala clinging to its mother.

Lambert doesn’t hate Aiden’s need for physical proximity, he’s just… confused by it. Aiden rarely takes any lovers to bed, even though he clearly craves physical intimacy. Lambert is more than happy to cuddle with Aiden, especially when they are forced to sleep under the stars and the early autumn frosts begin to settle over the region. It saves them from lighting a campfire, which may attract the wrong kind of attention to them. That’s all that’s ever transpired between the two, though… cuddling. Lambert enjoys the cuddling as much as Aiden does, but for Aiden it seems to be about more than mere enjoyment. The Cat simply refuses to go without physical intimacy which at times can be… alright, it can feel overbearing, but Lambert’s not about to complain, not when most humans turn away from him in disgust and contempt when he tries to chat them up. 

Over the course of the next few weeks, Aiden almost develops a form of separation anxiety. He refuses to let Lambert out of his sight, going so far as to follow the man everywhere, and that’s the moment when Lambert snaps. 

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” he asks, his tone hiding none of the irritation he feels at being tailed by this overgrown tomcat. Aiden stops dead in his tracks, his eyes growing wide at Lambert’s words. 

“Huh?” 

“You’ve been following me since this morning… I have errands to run and it’s hard to do that when you’re breathing down my neck!”

Lambert instantly regrets his words the minute they leave his mouth. Aiden’s shoulders visibly sag at Lambert’s comment, his content expression melting into something sadder and the sight tugs at the wolf’s heartstrings in all the wrong ways. Aiden averts Lambert’s eyes shyly, the tip of his ears turning a pretty shade of pink as embarrassment washes over him. Lambert heaves a sigh. Way to act like a fucking dick. 

“Sorry, Aiden. I… I didn’t mean to sound like an ass, but-”

“It’s alright, I… I knew this moment would come eventually.”

“What are you talking about?” Lambert asks, a confused frown etched on his face. Aiden doesn’t look at him when he replies in a voice far too small to belong to the lethal, cocky witcher Lambert has come to know over the past few months. 

“You’re gonna ask me to leave for good. I get it. I… I’ll go back to the room and pack my things.” 

As Aiden turns around to leave, Lambert’s hand shoots out and grabs a hold of Aiden’s wrist. Before Lambert’s brain has a chance to catch up, he finds himself pulling Aiden into a nearby alley, away from prying eyes of judgemental humans meandering the stalls of the midweek market. Aiden looks so unsure now, so vulnerable like this, and it makes Lambert want to wrap the Cat up in warm blankets and cuddle him and forget the world for a while. Instead, he settles on pressing Aiden’s back against the wall and draping himself around the Cat witcher as much as he can. 

“That’s not what I meant,” Lambert breathes in the air pocket between them as he locks eyes with Aiden, “you’ve just been… especially clingy recently. Are you sure you’re alright?”

Aiden averts his eyes once again, but Lambert is quick to grip the other man’s chin and force Aiden to meet his gaze. Even that simple touch pulls a small hiss from Aiden, whose eyes flutter shut as he relishes in the feeling of Lambert touching him anywhere. Lambert purses his lips, eager for an answer. 

“Aiden-”

“Winter is around the corner,” Aiden whispers, his tongue darting out to lick his suddenly dry lips. Lambert’s frown deepens. 

“And?”

His question is met with a pointed eye roll from Aiden. 

“And… wolves return to their dens for winter, don’t they? I was just… enjoying the last few weeks in your company before you leave and never come back.”

As the final piece of the puzzle slots into place, understanding dawns on Lambert. He pulls away from Aiden and the small whimper the loss of contact triggers does not go unnoticed. Something old and fragile aches in Lambert’s chest as the meaning of Aiden’s words sink in. Aiden isn’t just worried about being separated from Lambert for a few months, but he’s worried that Lambert will never come back.The wolf links his fingers with his Cat’s, squeezing softly as he leans into Aiden’s space and rubs his bearded cheek against Aiden’s jawline. The latter quickly melts under the soft ministrations, the soft content rumble deepening into a continuous purr as Lambert nuzzles the crook of Aiden’s neck. 

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” 

“Yeah, right,” Aiden snorts in response, “cause you’re so good with feelings and shit.”

“Not everyone’s a sappy sentimental bitch like you are,” Lambert teases gently, earning himself a half-hearted slap up the back of the head. “I don’t have to go back to Kaer Morhen this winter.”

Aiden tenses, his soft purring stopping abruptly as he takes in Lambert’s words. Lambert continues to rub his cheek against Aiden’s jaw, his neck, his cheek… wherever he can reach, the action meant to soothe the brewing storm in Aiden’s mind.

“It’s your home,” Aiden offers weakly, “I don’t want… I… it’s your home.” 

“I can send a letter to the old man. Let him know I’m alive. We could find a den somewhere else… an attic somewhere, or an abandoned castle.” Lambert nuzzles the spot right behind Aiden’s ear, earning a pleased hum from the Cat. “Or you could come with me.”

“Sure. Cause that’s gonna end well…” 

“That’s settled then. I’m spending winter with you.”

Aiden pushes Lambert away, their eyes meeting once again but this time, Aiden searches for any trace of a lie in Lambert’s amber gaze. He finds none, because Lambert is one hundred percent honest in his offer. He would ditch Vesemir, Geralt and Eskel for a year to spend it with Aiden… and the thought should scare him more than it does, truthfully. He’s only known the Cat for a few months, and yet… well, maybe Lambert was dreading the winter as well. How about that? It’s not like he felt equally anxious about leaving Aiden, it’s just… fuck off. 

“You mean that?” 

“Mhm. Fair warning… I hate the cold. If I’m spending the winter with you, you’ll have to find a way to keep me warm or I will bite your head off.” 

In Aiden’s defence, he does keep Lambert warm all winter long. Their cuddling finally turns into something more, and from the moment Lambert and Aiden cross that fateful line there is no going back. Aiden becomes insatiable, always seeking Lambert’s body in some shape or form, never letting the wolf out of his sight again.  Lambert may have been apprehensive about many things concerning Aiden when the two started travelling together, but it turns out that all his worries were for nothing. Turns out Cat witchers are still crazy, and feral, and mercurial… a tad possessive as well, something Lambert doesn’t hate... but they’re also the cuddliest sons of bitches on the Continent. 

Lambert can live with that, he thinks. 

Request a prompt.

[army-author]

(fic alert) all this stigma

➝ COMING 26/03/2021 18:00 GMT

➝ summary: your relationship with taehyung was supposed to stay strictly casual. yet, when you find yourself pregnant with his child, the walls you built up come crashing down around you. kim taehyung’s affluent family are strict and traditional, willing to do anything to cover up the indiscretions of their son, even if it means forcing him into marriage...

➝ pairing: heir taehyung x female reader

➝ genre: heavy angst, arranged marriage au

➝ warnings: profanity; lots of talk about losing virginity

[PREVIEW BELOW]

[Six years ago]

Your eyes are caught on Taehyung.

In Anise’s dorm room, with the scent of alcohol heavy in the air, all you can focus on is the man standing across from you. Anise had invited him over in the hopes of introducing you to some more people. As she said - “You need to put yourself out there more!”

You knew she was right. You’d spent the first term crammed in your dorm, studying, barely talking with anyone. In the middle of a corridor of dormitories, surrounded by hundreds of other students, you had felt inexplicably lonely. Part of your reasoning for becoming a hermit in your dorm room were the warnings you had received before you left for university. Your school had been very religious, shoving morals down your throat as you got ready to venture out into the real world. The world will try to corrupt you. They’ll try to entice you. Do not let yourself fall into temptation.

You were certainly slipping into temptation now as you looked at Taehyung. A unique curiosity pierced your heart as you watched him from across the room. Perhaps it was the spark in his black eyes that intrigued you. Perhaps it was the cut of his jaw. Perhaps it was the defined collar bone that suggested itself just above the white of his t-shirt. Whatever it was – it had clutched at your stomach with iron teeth as soon as he walked into the room.

Your mother had also warned you of the dangers of the world when you left home. “Some boys will try to entice you,” she had said. She was keen on the idea of remaining virtuous and pure – repeating all the ideas you had heard regurgitated at school assembly each week.

Perhaps that was why, after all this time, you were so desperate to go against her guidance.

Anise had decided that it was her mission to help you lose your virginity, and had taken it upon herself to introduce you to all her male friends.

You are all too happy to let her guide you through the murky uncertainty of hook-ups. Being so inexperienced yourself, you need all the help you can get.

But now, faced with the prospect of Taehyung, stood a couple of feet away from you, the idea of going over and striking up a conversation with him terrifies you. Everything about him radiates a confident sensuality. On top of that, you had heard rumours that his family was extremely wealthy – a far cry from your rural upbringing.

Gripping the ice cold beer bottle that Anise pushed into your hand earlier, you take a swig, hoping for a boost of confidence. With a deep breath, you walk over to Taehyung. “Hi,” you say by way of introduction. Not the most unique start to a conversation.

He turns his gaze to you, and up close, you are struck by how devastating his stare can be – dark eyes swirling with a galaxy of golden speckles, radiating light as he offers you a smile. “Hello. You’re Anise’s friend, right?”

You nod, “Yep. That’s me.”

His smile widens. With that smile, you begin to loosen up, slightly less intimidated at the prospect of speaking with such a beautiful man. “It’s nice to meet you,” he says, “I’m Taehyung.”

“I know,” you say, “Anise speaks about you a lot.” As soon as these words leave your lips, your cheeks heat with a desperate blush.

“Oh yeah?” Taehyung raises his eyebrows. There’s a smile in his voice, “What does she speak about?”

You swallow. You’ve backed yourself into a corner now. Despite all the advice Anise had tried to give, you were still your own awkward self, completely innocent to the secret art of flirting. Taking another sip of beer to soften the blow of your next words, you resign yourself to the truth. “Anise has decided that she needs to help me loose my virginity, so… she’s introducing me to all her male friends.” You can feel that your cheeks are hot with a flush, eyes stinging with embarrassment, “I… don’t know why I told you that...”

Taehyung simply laughs, “So that’s her deal, huh? I’m just some meat for you to hop on?” He quirks you a smile with raised brows; his heated gaze is enough to melt you down to a puddle.

“No, I didn’t mean...” you stammer.

“Relax,” he gives you a light tap on the arm, “I’m kidding.”

“Oh,” you swallow, the aftertaste of beer suddenly turning bitter. You get the sense you’ve fucked up any chance you had of establishing a relationship with Taehyung. Humiliated, you take another swig from your beer bottle.

“So,” Taehyung says, “You actually planning on losing your virginity tonight?”

You almost choke. Gasping for air, you wipe beer from your lips, “Excuse me?”

He laughs, “God, your face is hilarious!”

You stammer, as your cheeks only get hotter, “I wasn’t expecting you to… I mean… I didn’t think...”

His dark eyes watch carefully. The spark in those swimming irises still intrigues you, yanking you back against your better judgement.

“Did Anise decide that you needed to loose your virginity, or was that your decision?” Taehyung asks.

You shrug, “I think it’s a bit of both. I mean... I wouldn’t mind losing it. I hate the label sticking to me. I’m not a prude or anything. I guess a part of me feels like I’m missing out on something. I see all those sex scenes in TV and movies, and it feels as plausible as a scene about magic or aliens. It’s just so far removed from anything I’ve experienced.” You laugh at yourself, “I’m just rambling now. God, I’m so embarrassing!”

Taehyung takes another sip of his beer, “No, it’s not embarrassing. I felt the same way before I lost my virginity. Before, I just couldn’t stop thinking about sex, and when I finally did it, it was like: “Oh. So that’s it, huh?” And then I just got on with my life without it ruling over me. I mean, don’t get me wrong. It felt really nice. But experiencing it for myself I realised that it’s not as big a deal as people would have you think.”

You nod, silent. You can barely believe you’re even having this conversation. Held in Taehyung’s gaze, the whole encounter feels like it’s happening in a dream. Maybe it’s just the alcohol getting to your head.

Your thoughts are interrupted when Anise comes back, phone in hand, saying, “We should take a photo!” You’re jostled around, sandwiched between friends. You loose track of Taehyung, as Yoongi, another of Anise’s friends, ends up squished next to you, with Anise on your other side. Smiling at the camera, which is held by a boy you don’t recognise, there’s a flash. The memory is preserved forever.

[wincore]

sweet tooth | dong sicheng

pairing: vampire!sicheng x reader

words: 2.8k

summary: out of all the inconveniences a vampire boyfriend could pose, there’s about two tonight: a) him losing it at the next person who compliments his fangs, or b) you losing it at sicheng’s 100% blood alcohol content

genre: vampire!au, boyfriend!au, college!au, (tooth-rotting) fluff, comfort, humour

warning(s): mentions of blood, alcohol consumption, college halloween parties

song rec(s): candy - baekhyun // wish you were sober - conan gray

a/n: let’s pretend it’s halloween pls <3 also im sorry it’s so short and more drabble-ish but i wanted to write something gentle and comforting so!!! yeah ^^ also there is no plot. eep.

It’s two in the morning.

Or rather, it feels like two in the morning. 

A frat party is a horrible substitute for an actual Halloween party. The alcohol content is through the roof and the number of pairs making out is enough to make you feel queasy. You never knew horror themes had the innate ability to make people so flagrantly horny—you’re half glad you’re not, god forbid, single. Most of your friends were too busy, however, to organize the close-knit party you usually have each year—so here you are, with an invitation from a friend of a friend (of a friend). Your boyfriend might be the only one feeling more out of place than you are.

You glance at Sicheng from the pool table, the cup frozen against his lips while his eyes scan the room from corner to corner. You don’t do crowds and neither does he; though he does have the unwitting ability to charm any crowd he’s in. You’re not quite sure if he’s still unaware of that.

You watch as a girl you can easily recognize from your campus approach him, all smiles and giggles. She says something and you scoff, almost completely certain about what it is she said.

Sicheng might be unaware of it—but you are, and painfully so.

She looks at him starry-eyed and the scent of rum wafting around her. A part of her jacket is off her shoulder, a faint blush covering her cheeks that you can spot even under the dim lights. She’s definitely flirting—you know that because rumours go around faster than assignments in this university. Choi Joohee has a very public, very open crush on your boyfriend.

It’s not like it bothers you. Not at all.

Just a little bit.

Jealousy has never been your thing and you’re half certain what you’re feeling isn’t even jealousy—just a taste of alcohol and the proximity of a Halloween house party.

Speaking of which, the only thing harrowing about this place is the amount of alcohol everyone seems to be consuming—including your boyfriend. Ten dragged Yukhei home a while ago and a part of you is still not confident enough to handle a boyfriend with very pointy fangs and midnight cravings for blood (or juice, as Ten disgustingly phrases it). 

Sicheng nods along to something Joohee asks, an eyebrow raised quizzically on her and you assume he’s been zoning out the whole time. The urge to laugh surfaces and you swallow it whole. He’s so cute, even in this state. The lights dance across his face; candy blue, rich purple, saccharine red. The colours don’t help him stand any straighter, or slur his words any less.

You think it’s time to help your boyfriend out. However, the moment you walk through the swarms over to them, Joohee’s face sours. Of course, as the only competition (is it a competition if you’ve already won?) to the object of her affections, you don’t rank too high in her books. It made you a little upset at first, but you got used to it. (“She’ll get over it,” Sicheng had reassured several times. “Don’t worry.”)

People grow, and with that thought, you let it be.

“I’ll talk to you later,” Joohee tells Sicheng and walks away, like he’s supposed to follow her.

You roll your eyes and turn to Sicheng, who’s had a very delayed response to Joohee’s departure. His head is tilted to the side, eyes half-lidded and you’re almost afraid he’s going to drop to the floor right there and then. This is bad. The thing about vampires is that they absolutely should not, under any circumstance, have alcohol. Calling your boyfriend a lightweight is beyond an understatement.

“Sicheng,” you call softly. 

He turns to you, taking a moment to process, before pulling his lips into a wide smile. His fangs poke out even when he presses his lips back together, a contemplatory look over him.

“I thought you left me here.” He forces a sardonic smile.

Drunk off his ass and Sicheng still manages to be annoyingly sarcastic.

You open your mouth and close it again. It’s not like you can chide him without letting your fondness show. The Adonis features that grace his face don’t help. Flushed all the way to the neck, a drunk Dong Sicheng is very rare. The last time this happened must have been at least two years ago (and though you weren’t there then, the way Ten and Kun freeze up at the slightest mention, you decided to not ask).

“Why did you drink?” you ask, huffing. “You can’t even smell alcohol.”

There’s a short pause.

“Because you were ignoring me,” he replies, leaning in.

Heat washes into your cheeks. You forgot how unrestrained he gets with alcohol in his system.

Sicheng seems to have enough consciousness left in him to feel somewhat embarrassed, standing up straight and fiddling with his thumbs. You slip your hand into his without delay and pull, trying your best to navigate through the crowd. Is an ordinary Halloween party too much to ask for? Just when you can finally spot the front door, Sicheng stops abruptly, making you stumble backwards into his chest. He smells like the old deodorant he’s been using for a year underneath the smell of beer and… is that blood?

“Where are we going?” he asks sharply.

“Home, Sicheng,” you whine. “You can stay in my bed.”

He stays rooted in place stubbornly, and you wonder what it is now. This is the time you have to wonder if you’re dating a (potentially) immortal creature or a recently birthed baby.

“We should enjoy more. You’ve hardly smiled the past few weeks,” he mutters.

Your heartbeat spikes for a moment, when he brushes the hair from your face. All this time and he hasn’t changed the words he offers to you in private, the care on his lips and fingertips. A room full of people who aren’t listening is the best place to talk.

The first time you saw Sicheng was in the middle of the night, in the dark hallway of your shared apartment building, blood staining his jaw from a bag he’d acquired from med student Wong Kunhang. (You’re very sure that’s illegal.)

Needless to say, you’d fainted immediately after. When you came to, you were met with a man with pretty eyes and fangs poking out his mouth and in a bed that wasn’t yours. There was no blood this time but you screamed anyway, cut off by the man’s hand over your mouth.

“Calm down,” he said, voice surprisingly deep. “It’s not like I’m going to kill you.”

“You were planning to kill me?” you asked, panicking.

“I just said I wouldn’t,” he replied quietly, eyes wide and almost as stressed as you are.

Sicheng heaves a sigh, massaging his forehead. You shake yourself off the memories, tugging at his shirt so you can sit somewhere at least. The alcohol must have numbed his ears too. The low R&B tunes make no sense on Halloween night; even less when they’re played a few bars above the acceptable volume. If you’re not out of here soon, you might lose your hearing altogether.

The couch is slightly less stinky than you would have expected. (You grimace as you think to the last time you were at a frat party and in particular, the vomit.) Beside you, Sicheng mumbles about something you’re not quite sure of, a quiet rant with one-track emotions. It makes you giggle and for a moment, you forget the predicament of being stuck with a drunk vampire boyfriend who has just finished teething.

“Hey, guys.”

You look up to see Jihoon, the very friend of a friend (of a friend) who had invited you to this mess. It’s not like you harbour ill feelings towards him; but the guy has approximately zero ability to read the room. It’s mostly funny.

Sicheng makes a vague gesture that you assume means ‘hello’, sitting up straight so he doesn't look noticeably tipsy. You make light conversation with Jihoon, Sicheng’s arm around your waist tightening reflexively. You don’t plan on party-hopping, no matter how much Jihoon urges the two of you—seriously, does he not see the look on Sicheng’s face? He looks more zombie than vampire.

“You know, you don’t actually have to wear costumes for this, right? We didn’t set a theme,” Jihoon remarks, tilting his head to face your boyfriend. “The fangs are really cool, though. Holy shit. Dude, they look so real.”

Sicheng’s lips twitch but he forces them into a smile, trying to move as far away from Jihoon as possible. The fangs are usually not out and about in the open, slightly retracted during the day. The night, however, keeps him on edge. Sicheng hates the spotlight that only ever shows up for the wrong reasons, and he’d much rather graduate without having to deal with horny vampire-lovers. (It’s not that sexy; and you know from experience.) 

The way Sicheng looks makes you wonder how many people have pointed out the fangs tonight. You purse your lips to keep yourself from laughing.

“Thanks,” he responds, voice his usual deep baritone. 

Jihoon leaves after being unable to draw any more conversation out of Sicheng, some peace gracing you despite everything.

If you ever write a book on how to deal with vampire boyfriends, the first rule would be to never kiss him at night. The fangs are not as withdrawn then and they hurt. (The second is, of course, to never let them get a whiff of alcohol.)

When Sicheng first kissed you, it was midnight and you were at the convenience store to buy a few lunchboxes and instant coffee mix. You’d yelped when his fang had pricked your lower lip, alarming the worker and around fifteen minutes of (dishonest) explanation later, the two of you had left without buying what you came for.

After fretting for a while, Sicheng had kissed you once more with careful consideration—till the damn fangs got in the way again. It was sweet for a moment—like candy—though, the metallic taste of blood had invaded it afterwards. No matter how awkward or painful it was, your elation outweighed the rest. 

Kisses weren’t the only thing interrupted by fangs.

The turtlenecks and scarves certainly raised an eyebrow in your circle of friends. There was concern at first, then teasing and then a whole lot of inside jokes which made you want to smack each and every one of them. (“They’re hickeys, I swear, not vampire bites,” you had informed Ten. “Ew. I did not need to know that.” “Shut up.”)

Even so, Sicheng is warm—always has been, and not on the skin.  

You feel pressure on your shoulder, his hair tickling your neck and you adjust yourself so it’s more comfortable. 

“Tired?” you ask.

“Not at all.”

You shake your head at his lie. Gently pushing his head away, you get up from your seat and pull him up with all of your strength. Linking your arm through his, you smile at him when he raises an eyebrow. It’s time to get home, you’ve decided and these are times when one vote is enough. 

When you reach the front door, stumbling out with your suddenly talkative boyfriend, the autumn breeze hits you. Under the moonlight, the rosy hue over his cheeks is clearer and even more so when he smiles.

“It’s like our first date,” he says. 

You smile back at him.

“You were so embarrassing,” he adds.

Your smile drops and you smack his arm, eliciting a soft complaint from him.

Your first date was the only normal thing in this relationship—a date at the amusement park on Halloween, a bunch of kids mistaking your now boyfriend for Count Dracula and caramel popcorn smeared over your fingers. 

Sicheng sighs, lowering his head to rest his forehead against your shoulder. The two of you stay like that for a moment or two, the party music finally fading and Sicheng’s warmth seeping into you. You fix the lapels of his jacket absentmindedly, fingers tracing over the material. His hands rest lightly against your back yet still secure. 

A kitten lick at your neck jolts you back to reality. You gently push him by the shoulders, finding his fangs bared already. He stays unmoving for a few seconds before closing his mouth and going back to leaning against you, breath falling in waves against your neck.

“I’m not your juicebox, Sicheng,” you snap, frown deepening.

“But you have so much blood,” he mumbles, his forehead hot against your shoulder.

“Sicheng.”

He sobers up a little, pulling back with a stream of pouting apologies. You bite your lip to keep yourself from smiling. Despite everything, your boyfriend is such a child sometimes. There’s a short pause.

“But wait, don’t go biting someone else’s neck,” you quickly add, flustered.

Sicheng suppresses a smile.  

“So I can have a little—”

“No.”

Sicheng pouts but agrees enough to follow you, the two of you moving soundlessly over the sidewalk. Being alone with him has always been easing; you don’t need a crowd for comfort. 

With fingers interlaced, you walk alone with him as the orange street lights cast shadows on the buildings lined up. A few more blocks and you’ll reach your apartment, get to push Sicheng into bed and pray he doesn’t throw up at your front door—and yet still, you walk as slow as you can as if the autumn wind will be gone as quick as it arrived.

The number of people shrink the further you get from the party, and you heave a sigh of relief, glad to be away from, what you and your friends call, the rich neighbourhood. The familiar path to your apartment, no matter the pricing, has much better air to breathe in. It’s past midnight and yet, you can see the city lights in the distance, the ones that never sleep—for the living or the dead.

Something runs into your legs and you jump onto Sicheng, who in turn flinches away with a strangled yelp. 

You look down to see a giant golden retriever in a white blanket which you assume is meant to be a ghost outfit. It wags its tail, sniffing around your boyfriend’s legs, making him giggle as he crouches down to pet the creature.

“I’m so sorry!” 

You look up to find a young girl holding a pumpkin almost as large as her head, an apologetic look over her head. Some part of you is happy to see a costume, considering you were robbed of yours. (Sometimes you dream of matching costumes but again, the damn fangs.)

“Piri loves people, I’m so sorry if he bothered—oh hey dude, cool fangs.”

Sicheng offers the fakest smile ever, accompanied with a thumbs up gesture. You sigh, apologizing to the girl before parting ways. 

“That’s the eighth time tonight,” Sicheng says, scowling almost. “I counted.”

You laugh, squeezing his hand. Calm, relaxed Dong Sicheng tends to lose it at repetitive comments with only three sips of beer.

When you reach the apartment building, clouds cover the moon and you draw your jacket closer to yourself. You think for a moment about the inevitability of time and whether you’re even allowed to fall in love this way. You push the thoughts aside almost inevitably. When the time comes, you will have a decision to make—and after everything, it is love which turns people. 

For now, you can enjoy this Halloween night with your (literally) one-of-a-kind boyfriend.

You fumble around with the keys, Sicheng looking at you with sleepy eyes as he leans against the wall. He must be worn out from the alcohol by now.

“Hey,” he calls, the words more muffled than usual. 

You raise an eyebrow, tugging him inside all the while maintaining your balance.

“You know my favourite blood type?” he continues.

You shake your head. “If you’re thinking of feeding, I’ll get some blood bags from Kunhang.”

Sicheng pouts. “You ruined the line.”

“Huh?”

“Yours. Yours is my favourite blood type.”

Despite the terrible execution of his so-called pick-up line, you find yourself shaking with laughter. You’re not sure if it’s the late night or the October air—the two of you share the silliest of laughter at the doorway to your apartment.

Within the moment itself, Sicheng leans in to kiss you and your hands move to run through his hair out of habit. The taste of beer and the prick of his fangs makes you pull away. You look at each other for a moment before you give in anyway and kiss him against the doorframe.

October ends with memories—your first date, Sicheng’s cooking disaster, and now this. It’s blissful for the few moments the two of you let it be. That is, until Sicheng opens his mouth.

“Oh, by the way, can you apologize to Ten for me? I think I bit him thinking it was you.”

“Sicheng, what the fuck?”

October ends with proximity, sweet as candy and warm as toast—stumbling into bed with all that and more.

[kitty0boy]

I’m baaaack. I saw the is idea for this on Tiktok where basically Marinette saves Chat Noir she’s on top like when Chat saves Ladybug and he can’t function, so she smirks and flicks his bell. It’s a little spicier than the stuff I usually write so be warned! As always they are aged up so Marinette is 17, Adrien is 18. And much like some of my other fics, Chat can use multiple Cataclysms while Ladybug has to run off and recharge. Again, the content is kinda spicy so I’m going to say 14+ for this one. So enjoy!

———————————

You’ll never guess who was akumatized again. That’s right, Lila, why? Because she was caught lying this time.

Marinette was exhausted, being the new guardian and all. She slept through half of first period, dozed off in Ms. Mendeleev’s class twice, and nearly face-planted on the staircase outside the school. Needless to say, everyone was worried about her, especially Adrien. He felt he was partly responsible after all. His late night visits with her seemed to have taken their toll. Maybe he should stick to UMS tournaments on the weekend and Fridays.

Not everyone was worried though (somehow), one of those people being Lila. Over the years she’d become more and more set on gaining the attention of everyone in a 2 mile radius. While she usually only bragged about her “charity work”, the opportunity to slander Marinette wouldn’t go unused.

“I’m so worried about our poor Marinette.” She cooed, “Ever since she downloaded that app, oh it’s only gotten worse.” The class stared at her puzzled. In mock surprise, she covered her mouth, “Whoops! Oh I’m such a blabber mouth.” Adrien couldn’t see her lips, but he was sure they were curled into a nasty smirk. “Wait what? What app?” Alya piped up. “Oh she didn’t tell you? She’s a sugar baby. She’s been on Tinder getting money from older men. How do you think she pays for her supplies.”

He’d had enough, “Seriously Lila, if you’re going to spread rumours about people at least make sure they’re true. You don’t even hang out with Marinette, how would you know that before me or Alya?” She pulled out her best sad smile. “Oh Adrien, she confided in me because she was too scared of what you would think.” Alya cut her off, “No Adrien’s right, Marinette doesn’t like you Lila. I’m sorry but it’s true. There’s no way she’d tell you something like that.” Adrien put his hands in his pockets in triumph, but not before Lila got her phone out and held it up, showing Marinette’s supposed profile on Tinder. There was a picture of her face right on the profile. “I managed to hack into her account last night. Just look at all these creepy old men she’s matched with.” She scrolled through the list of men, most of them looked to be in their late 40s. Anger bubbled inside him.

“Seriously Lila! She’s still underage, don’t make a fake profile of her on Tinder. Now all of these old men know what she looks like. What would happen if they tracked her down. I swear to god if she’s ever hurt because right this I’ll-” He was ready to strike when a hand touched his back and a head fell against his shoulder. “What’s going on?” Marinette asked, she rubbed her eyes. “Girl let me see your phone.” Alya demanded. Marinette slumped over to her before placing her phone in the bestie’s hand. She walked behind Alya and wrapped her arms around her shoulders from behind.

Adrien, or rather, Chat Noir was no stranger to Marinette’s sleepy cuddling tendencies. He remembered many nights that involved her wrapping around him while blinking back sleep. Whether it was watching movies, playing video games, or even sketching. She somehow always found a way to cuddle up to him. Not that he was complaining, it was the best way to get her to sleep after all. She’d lean on him and he’d wrap around her, start purring, and play with her hair while she drifted off. He of course was adapted to running on less than 5 hours of sleep anyways, besides, hearing the sleepy sounds she’d make were always worth it. So seeing her cuddle up to Alya did make him a little jealous yes, was he going to say anything, probably not. He’d probably suggest a movie marathon that night to get his fair share in.

He watched while Alya scrolled though Marinette’s phone. Marinette subconsciously nuzzling into the crook of her friend’s neck. “Take a look everyone. Do you see the app for Tinder anywhere on my girl’s phone?” The class stared at it. “I don’t see it.” Rose squeaked. “Well obviously not, Marinette picks up shifts at the bakery sometimes to pay for all that stuff.” Alix shouted while walking towards them. She wasn’t there when Lila was talking about it. Adrien looked at her confused. “How did you know what she-?” She cut him off, “Nathaniel told me.” He looked at him and Nathaniel’s face turned as red as his hair. “He wanted to say something but he’s still really shy.” Alix whispered to Adrien. Adrien turned back to see his friends crowding around the bench where Lila sat, all of them were scowling at her. One by one they started voicing their disapproval. “Don’t spread rumours about our friend.” “Seriously Lila, not cool.” Lila got up from the bench and calmly walked towards the exit with her belongings in hand. It was the end of the day anyways.

He saw Marinette stumbling towards the locker room to pick up her backpack, Alya guiding her with an arm wrapped around her shoulder. “Maybe your purrincess could use a lift home.” Plagg suggested from his pocket. “Hey you’re right, maybe then Lila wouldn’t be able to start more rumours about her. Everyone would know why she’s been up late.” He considered the idea. “But what about Hawkmoth? I don’t want him to target her.” Plagg tried to fly up to his eye level but Adrien quickly slapped the kwami back into his jacket. “Ow hey what was that for?” Plagg yelled, “I’m in the middle of the school foyer, I’m already getting weird looks for slapping myself so don’t make it any worse.” That earned a little pinch from his friend “A little pay back, now if you don’t transform and pick up your sleeping beauty I’ll carry her back home myself. I don’t trust that girl to walk across the street by herself.” Adrien smiled, “Aww does the cheese monster have a soft spot for my purrincess, I thought there was only room for camembert in your heart.” Plagg rolled his eyes, “Yeah well if I can make room for you, then I can make room for pigtails. Now go and transform before you miss your chance.” He flew back into Adrien’s pocket. Touched by his kwami’s speech, Adrien walked towards the exit and sprinted around the corner. Luckily he had fencing practice today so his bodyguard wouldn’t be waiting for him.

He ducked into an alleyway and transformed after making sure he wasn’t followed, Chat Noir emerging from where Adrien was seconds ago. He ran back towards François DuPont to meet his little mouse at the front. As she emerged covering a yawn, Alya spotted him. Immediately she whipped out her phone and ran towards him, leaving Marinette behind. “Chat Noir! What are you doing here? Out for an afternoon patrol?” She held up her camera to record him. “Actually I’m here to pick up a certain little lady. I’ve been keeping her up at night and word has it she’s dead tired.” Alya blinked before turning towards her friend and looking back at him with wide eyes. He nodded and looked back up only to see Marinette trip over her feet. He rushed over and caught her around the waist in a hug before she could smash her face into the pavement. “Well hello there Mari, fancy seeing you here.” She looked up at him and smiled before stretching her arms up and wrapping them around his neck. “Hey kitty.” She murmured before resting her face on his chest. He sighed and bent down a little to sweep her up, he gently repositioned her into a hip carry with his other hand wrapping under one of her thighs. She immediately snuggled into him, her head resting on his shoulder. Alya stood there, her mouth agape. “Hey uh, would you mind grabbing her bag for me miss Ladyblogger?” He asked, nodding at it. She snapped out of it and picked it up off the steps where it had fallen. She passed it to Chat who slung it over his free shoulder and started heading towards Tom and Sabine’s bakery, with a certain fox tailing him.

The three, well the two of them walked while Marinette was peacefully carried by Chat Noir. Alya chuckled “Are you, purring?” He blushed a little before giggling back, “Yeah I am, I usually do it when she’s really tired, it puts her to sleep really quickly.” She smirked at him, “So this is a regular occurrence?” He stammered “I well uh yes for a while, not every night but umm.” He blushed and looked down at her. “If only I knew Marinette was sleeping with one of Paris’ superheroes.” She said slyly, she was definitely fit for the fox miraculous. He turned away from the journalist, he didn’t want to see him blush. His cheek bumped into Marinette’s forehead before resting against it. “It’s not in the way you’re thinking, we usually play video games or watch movies, most of the time she gets really tired and ends up falling asleep on me so I put her to bed.” He looked back at her and she was not convinced. “You mean she gets tired so you cuddle her and purr while she falls asleep then you sneak out the window.” He pouted, “You make me sound like a creepy, and it’s actually the trapdoor to the balcony, I can’t climb through the window without diving through it.” She grinned at him and he rolled his eyes. “Not much better is.. hey what’s that?” He turned to see a figure glaring at them from on top of the school, he didn’t get to look at them for very long before something fast and sharp came barreling towards them.

He didn’t even have time to grab Alya, he only had time to shove her out of the way with his foot before jumping backwards with Marinette pulled tight to him. He stumbled a little, crashing to the ground with a very much awake Marinette landing safely on top of him. She propped herself onto her hands just enough to separate her face from his. “Chat? What’s going on?” A loud cackle was heard behind them and she leapt to her feet, he followed suit and pulled Marinette behind him, making sure she was as separated from the akuma as possible. “My name is Seamstress, with my needle and thread I’ll make sure none of you can ever speak against me.” Seamstress turned to Alya, she pinched her fingers together and make a jabbing motion towards her. Alya’s mouth shut and she covered it with her hand. It looked like she was in pain, then Seamstress pulled her hand back and Alya cried out, but her scream was muffled. She pulled back her hand to reveal that her lips were sewn shut. Marinette tried to run towards her friend but Chat wrapped his arms around her before she could go anywhere. “Alya No!” She screamed, her face full of tears. “I’m really sorry Marinette.” He said before grabbing his baton and vaulting them away from the akuma and Alya.

Marinette held tight to Chat’s neck, despite the sobs that shook her violently. He needed to get her away but he wanted her to breathe. He looked behind him, Seamstress was nowhere in sight, so he jumped into an alleyway and sat down, Marinette sitting in his lap. He sat crisscross so that she could sit more comfortably, she still wasn’t breathing right.

“Marinette I need you to breathe for me ok? I know it’s going to be hard but I have to get you somewhere safe, and I can’t do that if you can’t breathe. Here.” He reached behind him and pulled one of her hands off him and placed it on his chest. “Ok can you feel me breathing?” She nodded against his shoulder. “Ok good, now try to match my breathing ok?” He felt her panting against him as she tried to fix her breathing. It took a few minutes but soon enough her sobs turned into little whimpers of sadness. “Feel better?” He asked and she nodded. She was always quiet like this when she was upset, seeing her friends hurt wouldn’t be something she got over easily. She pulled back to look at him before another tear slipped down her cheek. He quickly reached up and brushed it away, “Ok now we’ve got to-“ An explosion rang out in the street near them, he gently pushed her off of him. “Stay here ok, I’ll come and get you after.”

He ran out from the alley only to come face to face with Seamstress. “Hello kitty, where have you hidden miss goody two-shoes hmm?” She asked, she looked like she’d gone insane, her face twisted into something between and grin and fury. Her face darted from left to right, looking for his princess. Luckily, the dumpster they landed beside blocked Marinette from view. “Like hell I’d tell you.” He turned his baton and extended it towards her, putting as much distance between him and the akuma as he could. “Well if I can’t get you to talk, maybe I should just shut you up!” Her hand thrusted towards him and he saw a needle, he dodged it and her hand snapped open, a drop of blood running down her finger. So if she misses a stitch she’ll prick herself. Good to know.

He dodged needle after needle until he got distracted and stumbled. He fell to the ground and braced for the pain to come to his lips, but it never did. Instead something small crashed into him and they rolled across the road, hitting the curb. He looked up to see Marinette on her hands and knees above him. Her lips were still swollen from crying but in that moment, he couldn’t help but notice how beautiful he was. ‘Geez Adrien great timing.’ He could almost hear Plagg cackling in his head. He just stared at her, mouth agape, then she did something he would never recover from. She smirked, and oh god did he want to kiss her. “What cat got your tongue?” She said before flicking his bell. She stood and pulled him up. He quickly snapped out of it and scooped her up before dashing down the street, the akuma not far behind, he drifted around a corner and silently sprinted down an alley before extending his baton and racing across the rooftops in the opposite direction, successfully leading the akuma in the wrong direction. He brought her to the first place he could think of, the Louvre. He leapt off one of the buildings to the side, summoned a cataclysm to break a glass panel, and landed on the floor inside with Marinette clutched safely in his arms.

“Wasn’t there an easier way to get in here?” She said, a teasing tone to her voice. He wish he wanted to laugh but he didn’t. He was mad, furious even. He told her to stay hidden, out of sight. He told her to wait in the alley for him but she didn’t. “Didn’t I tell you to stay put?” He asked angrily. Hundreds of emotions swam through him, part of him wanted to lecture her for hours, part of him wanted to hug her and make sure she was ok, part of him wanted to kiss her stupid because mon dieu she was beautiful with her hair down like that. He settled for a simple “Stay here this time, I’ll come get you.” Before turning and vaulting towards the akuma.

Ladybug was a little late to the fight but they got it over with fairly quickly. He destroyed the bracelet the akuma was in and Ladybug captured it and fixed everything. “Would you mind taking her back this time? I’ve gotta run.” Ladybug asked and he nodded. Some of his anger had faded but he wasn’t exactly in a good mood right now. She waved goodbye before hurrying off. “So,” he started turning to Lila, “I hope you won’t be spreading anymore false rumours about people now, especially Marinette.” He growled a little and miss liar shrank under his gaze. She nodded before standing and walking away.

He needed to calm down, Marinette was probably scared and hurt and confused, he didn’t exactly leave her on the best note. By the time he arrived at the Louvre it was closed for cleaning. He slipped inside to grab her but noticed that she was standing by the door. “They umm, kicked me out when it closed.” She said shyly. His brows furrowed.

She looked at him confused before he opened his mouth to speak. “I told you to stay hidden and you didn’t listen. Why?” She frowned, “Don’t you mean ‘thank you Marinette’?” She folded her arms in front of her chest. “Uh no I mean why did you run out from your hiding place, I’m the superhero remember, you can’t go running into the middle of an akuma battle. You don’t have superpowers or a magic suit to protect you.” She walked up to him and pushed her finger into his chest, “You were more important when it came to defeating Seamstress, who cares if my mouth is sewn shut because yours will still work. You needed to be safe more than I did so I saved you.” He clenched his fists, “My job is to protect you“ she cut him off “No your job is to help Ladybug save the akumatized person.” He started speaking, “No, my job is to make sure no one gets hurt, I have to keep everyone safe.” She crossed her arms again, “Once Ladybug’s cure fixed everything I would have been fine.” He stood straight, “Well I wouldn’t be, I wouldn’t be able to function knowing you got hurt because I couldn’t protect you.” She grabbed his shoulders, “And how do you think I feel huh? Seeing you die over and over again! So fuck me if I wanted to save you one time! I can’t keep watching you sacrifice yourself over and over again.” Her voice broke, “And what? You think I would be able to keep fighting if I knew you weren’t safe, I don’t think I could live with myself if Anything happened to you.” He wasn’t yelling anymore but he was still angry with her. She was close to crying again she was so angry.

“For heaven sakes you stupid cat!” She blurted before grabbing his bell and pulling him down to her. He saw her eyes close before their lips met. He closed his eyes and kissed her back, it wasn’t a slow gentle kiss either, it was a desperate, passion filled kiss that made him feel like he was struck by lightning. Her hands tangled in his hair and his arms wrapped around her waist. He couldn’t tell if this was heaven or hell, he felt like he was dancing on cloud nine while her lips burned against his neck. She pulled down his bell zipper slightly and he groaned as she left marks on his collar bone. He grabbed her face and pulled her back up to him, gently biting her bottom lip when she smirked.

He heard a whistling noise somewhere behind Marinette but it barely registered and he lifted her up to get her closer to him. She pulled back and he started leaving marks on her identical to the ones she left on him. “Um Chat.” She whimpered and he wanted to hear her say his name again. “Chat.” She said a little louder, “Hey!” She squeaked and he stopped, looking up at her. Her face was bright red and her eyes were wide. “What?” He asked, lowering her to the ground. He quirked an eyebrow at her before looking above her head. It was Alya and Alix, standing there, watching him make out with their best friend. “Uh, hi.” He said awkwardly, rubbing his neck. “Well hi there.” Alix chuckled. Oh no, he was about to die right? “We’ll leave you two to your, umm, whatever that was but make sure you have her home by 9 young man, you understand me?” Geez she sounded like Mr. Dupain. “Yes ma’am.” He chuckled, wishing he could curl up into a ball and hide. The pair walked off, laughing and whispering together.

He felt something heavy crash into his chest, “Oh, mon dieu I’m a goner.” Marinette groaned. He laughed nervously before hugging her and ruffling her hair. She looked up at him, “You’re still an idiot you know.” He laughed for real this time, “And you’re still beautiful.” Her face turned pink and she put her head against his chest again. He sighed and started purring. “I’m sorry I yelled at you, I was just so worried. Like I said, I don’t think I could function if I found out something happened to you.” She wrapped her arms around him and raised herself up to rest her head in the crook of his neck. “I’m sorry too, I’ll try to stay out of trouble.” He smiled, “You’d better, or I’ll go full Weredad and lock you away.” She giggled, “I think you mean Werecat.” He joined her and they laughed together, wrapped in each other’s embrace. “So, how about a movie night tonight?” He asked. “Why don’t we just cuddle until I fall asleep, that’s basically what we do anyways.” He wagged his tail excitedly, “Do you still have the pillow fort set up from last time?” She giggled again, “Yes I do, now let’s go home kitty, it’s cold out here.” Oh right, she didn’t have a jacket on. He quickly scooped her up and they headed off.

That night he got more than his fair share of cuddles, he even stayed for a sleepover. Thank goodness it was Friday.

————————————

Thank you for reading. It’s a bit spicier than the stuff I usually write but I think I did ok.

[excelsi-or]

your type (pt. 5)

Hello friends! It's been a while. Personally, so much has been going on, but I'm back with a new part of this story. This one is a bit longer.

I hope you're all well and staying safe and wearing your masks.

w.c. 2.2k

pairing: jihoon x OC/reader

pt. 1; pt. 2; pt. 3; pt. 4

The day Jihoon gets her number is unexpected. Jihoon has accepted that she won’t give it to him, so with every goodbye, he arranges new plans to see her. She seems surprised each time, but she agrees. However, with the semester coming to an end, she’s become more elusive.

“I have to be in lab all this week. We have final presentations coming up,” she tells him on their last date.

Jihoon has been at it for two months and the boys are surprised at how slow it’s going. He’s told them multiple times that she’s forcing him to go slow. She refuses to let herself even like him a little more than she already did. Every time he makes a move, she ducks around it. He’s stopped trying to kiss her, mostly because every time she gets away from him hurts his ego a little.

This text surprises him.

Jihyo (17:34)

0XX-XXXX-XXXX

Can you just make sure she eats? She’s not answering any of my messages to come home.

Jihoon (17:34)

Why me?

Jihyo (17:34)

I think she might listen to you.

Jihoon hesitates for a moment before calling. It rings, once, twice, three times.

“Hello?”

“Hey.”

He can hear the confusion in her voice. “Who is this?”

“Jihoon.”

“Annnnnnd I’m hanging up now.”

The line goes dead. Jihoon stares at his phone in disbelief.

Jihoon (17:37)

Jihyo sent me your number.

Apparently you’re not responding to her.

What do you want to eat? I’ll bring it to you.

He doesn’t get any response. So, he tucks his hair under his hat and leaves the studio. There isn’t much food choice on campus, but he heads to the cafeteria to pick up something for both of them. Takeout bag in hand, he heads towards the science buildings. It’s a lot bigger than his building, and as soon as he’s in it, the white walls are intimidating.

Seulgi, a girl he’d slept with once, tilts her head when she sees him. “What are you doing here?”

Jihoon ignores the accusatory tone. “Do you know where the chemistry research lab is?”

Her brow furrows. “Third floor. Room 380 or something.”

“Thanks.”

Jihoon ducks into the stairwell and climbs up to the third floor. When he steps out, he recognizes Kihyun from a few parties walking by. “Do you know where the chemistry research lab is?”

Kihyun looks over at him and recognition crosses his features. “Yeah.” He points down the hallway. “It’s right before the skywalk that connects to the biology building.”

“Biology has whole building?” Jihoon asks in disbelief.

Kihyun laughs. “Yeah, man. Every science department does. Do you need me to walk you there?”

“It’d be helpful.”

Kihyun turns around from wherever he was originally going. He glances at the bag of food. “You got a new girlfriend?”

“Let’s say I’m trying.”

“Who?”

Jihoon offers her name.

Kihyun’s brow furrows. “Sejeong’s friend?”

“That’s her.”

“You better be careful with her,” Kihyun warns. “Those girls are protective of her. Haven’t you heard about Jo Byunggyu?”

Jihoon shakes his head. “Who’s that?”

“Her boyfriend after Jungkook.”

Jihoon assumes that that’s the guy she refuses to talk about. He’s brought it up a few more times, but she won’t even tell him the guy’s name. Apparently, it’s news.

“There are so many rumours about what her friends did to him. Castrated, murdered, hit and run, trashed his apartment, threatened him. Whatever they actually did to him,” Kihyun shakes his head in dismay, “he stopped going here.”

Jihoon frowns. “What?”

“So, tread carefully. Those girls can make you disappear.” They slow in front of two doors. Music drifts out of one of them. “Here you go.” He points to his right. “Inorganic chemistry research.” And to the door across the way. “Analytical chem.” He motions further down towards a few more doors. “All of those are the organic chemistry research labs.”

Jihoon has no idea which one she’s in. “Thanks.”

Kihyun backs away the way they’d come. “See you at Chanyeol’s tomorrow night?”

Jihoon nods. “Yeah. Should be there.”

“Man’s finally graduating and he’s throwing the biggest party ever,” Kihyun sings.

Jihoon peers through the glass window of the lab closest to him. He remembers her saying something about hydrogen when he’d asked about her research. And there was something about catalysts.

He manages to catch the attention of someone in the lab; a girl he recognizes but can’t place.

The girl opens the door. “Yeah?”

He explains why he’s there.

“Oh.” The girl gives him a once over. “Yeah, I’ll get her.”

“Hey, Lee Jihoon is standing outside asking about you,” Chaeyoung says.

She stops what she’s doing for only a second. “Okay, thanks.” She finishes swirling the vial in front of her eyes, only growing more frustrated when the stuff still doesn’t dissolve. She nudges her glasses a bit higher on her face and then glances over at Chaeyoung who hasn’t moved. “Something else?”

“Are you dating Jihoon?”

“Dating?” She shakes her head. “Jihyo’s been seeing Seungcheol, so we’ve been hanging out more.” She’s about to get back to work but pauses. “Why?”

“Just…” Chaeyoung seems like she’s going to stop herself and decides against it. “I’d just be careful around him.”

“Jihoon?” She scoffs. “I’m well aware.

Chaeyoung continues. “He’s good at being nice, but he’ll 180 you just as quickly. He really embodies that saying ‘Treat them mean, keep them keen’.”

She puts the vial down and leans her hip against her workbench. “When did you date him?”

Chaeyoung sighs. “Last year. We met at a party and dated for a few months. Then he suddenly ghosted me.” She looks up to the ceiling as if asking for strength. “He didn’t even ghost me. I went up to him one day to ask him something and he said, ‘I’m ignoring you now. Please go away.’”

That surprises her. She’d heard about Jihoon’s tsundere vibe, but never to what extent. “Wow. Thanks for the warning.”

Chaeyoung nods. “I just… I know we didn’t date for that long, but that last encounter really stung. I don’t want to see someone else getting hurt because of him.”

“Seriously. Thank you.”

Chaeyoung pats the bench twice before walking off.

She thinks a moment before taking her gloves off and checking her phone. She sees the messages from Jihoon and Jihyo. She also notices the time and realizes she’s been in the lab for 8 hours. After cleaning up her station, she heads to the door and slips out of her lab coat.

Jihoon is standing in the hallway on his phone with a bag of food in his hand.

“Hey.” She pulls her hair out of its bun. “So… food?”

Jihoon holds the paper bag up and finishes whatever he’s doing on his phone. He pockets it. “You got time to eat?”

“Give me a second?”

Jihoon nods. “Sure. Not like the food’s getting cold or anything.”

She knows he’s joking, but after what Chaeyoung said, it hurts a little. She heads into the student office and collects her things. She also changes back into the dress she’d worn to school, shrugging her cardigan on as she steps back out.

Jihoon gives her a once over. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a dress before.”

She hums. “Too easy to flip at a party.” She eyes his hands. “You better keep your hands away from me.”

Jihoon holds his free hand up. “I wouldn’t dare.”

They wander down the hallway towards the skywalk. There are a few couches that look out on the green rather than the parking lot on the other side. She sits first, setting her backpack on the side table, and tucks one leg underneath her so she can turn towards him. Jihoon distributes the food, handing her a burger and putting the fries between them. There’s a Coke bottle inside the bag, which he puts on the floor near their feet.

“You okay?” he asks as he opens the box of his burger.

“Okay?” She’s already taken a bite.

“You had a look on your face.”

“Ah.” She shakes her head. “Spent 8 hours trying to dissolve my compound in every solvent in the lab. Still won’t dissolve.” She tries a smile. “Guess I’m just frustrated.” It’s only half a lie.

Jihoon thinks he understands what she’s saying. “So… now what?”

She picks up a fry. “There’s one solvent I’ve been avoiding because it makes me want to gag, but it might work. I’ll have to try it tomorrow.”

“When’s your presentation?”

“Next week, so I’m hoping that I can finish up as much as I can this week.”

“Do you just forget to eat when you’re in lab?”

She chuckles. “Normally, no. But with a deadline, I guess time just got away from me. When the music’s playing and I can’t really see any windows from my bench,” she shrugs, “it’s easy to lose track of time.”

“Sounds like me in the studio.”

“Were you in the studio? I hope you didn’t come all the way from your place to bring me food.”

Jihoon snorts. “I would not have brought you cafeteria food if I had come from home. I have a final project to finish before the end of exam week.”

She hasn’t asked to visit him in the studio. One of the things girls seem to find appealing is his ability to make music. Most of them ask if they can listen or visit him. If they’re really brazen, they ask if he’s written songs about them.

Jihoon can’t help but wonder what she thinks.

“Do you want to see it?”

“See what?” She digs around for a ketchup packet in the bag.

“The studio.”

She glances up at him before going back to her task. “To see what exactly?” A smile breaks out when she comes up with three ketchup packs. She breaks open two of them and squeezes them into the lid of her burger box.

“I don’t know.”

She chuckles. “Is that one of your moves? Bring a girl to the studio? Have sex in the studio?”

Jihoon throws his head back with a laugh. “I can’t say I’ve ever had sex in there.” He tips his head and chews thoughtfully. “If the doors locked, I would. The soundproof walls would be perfect.” He catches her eye. “But no, it’s not one of my moves. Girls just seem to like to visit me there. Or want to hear the music or something.”

She dips a fry in the ketchup. “That makes it sound as if you don’t invite them there.”

“They usually ask.”

“Should I have asked?”

“I get this vibe that you only ask questions you want to know the answers to. So I’m assuming that applies to asking if you can visit me in the studio.”

This makes her laugh. “What do you even have to show me? It’s not as if you’d show me works in progress.”

Jihoon’s head snaps in her direction at that. “How do you know?”

Her eyebrows rise in surprise at his reaction. “Well… when I paint, I don’t want people to see things until they’re finished. Then I can gauge if it’s good enough to show.” She pops a fry into her mouth. “I’d assume that you’re the same, right?”

Jihoon lightly pushes her and then points. “Exactly!”

Grinning, she continues, “So, I would’ve been surprised if you even wanted me in your studio.”

Jihoon throws his free hand up in the air. “Wow. Yes. I rescind my invite.”

She nudges him with her arm. “Totally fine. Means I can go home early.”

“I’ll walk you home.”

She waves her hand over him. “You don’t have your bag or your coat.”

“You can come to the studio with me and then I’ll walk you home.”

She shakes her head. “Completely unnecessary. The sun’s only just started setting. It’ll be up until I get home.”

Jihoon looks her directly in the eye and takes a bite of his burger. She rolls her eyes. “Right, you don’t take no for an answer.”

“I’m glad you’re learning.”

There’s a pause in the conversation. In that time, three professors walk by and greet her. Someone who must be her supervisor stops to ask her about research. They talk chemicals and compounds that Jihoon only vaguely understands. There’s something about electrons and withdrawing. Nitro groups?

Jihoon stops listening after a while. He doesn’t say anything until her supervisor walks away.

“People know you in the science department.”

She picks up the napkin that she’d been folding in her lap and drops it into the bag. “I’m a fourth year. Don’t a lot of professors know their students by fourth year?”

“Mine do, but the science department is a lot bigger than my tiny music department.”

She rolls her eyes. “The chemistry department here is pretty small. The ecology professors know who I am.” She gauges his expression and shakes her head. “Boring science stuff.”

Jihoon used to agree. “How long have you liked science?”

There’s a pause before she admits, “I can’t say I really like it that much anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

She hums as she sips on the Coke he offers. “I didn’t really know what I wanted to do, but decided on science because ‘that’s where the money is’.” She rolls her eyes. She’s quoting someone; he wonders who. “Now, it’s just kinda too late to switch degrees.”

“What would you rather be doing?”

“Well… if we’re being honest, just not in school. But here we are.”

“Here we are,” he echoes. He can’t imagine being in school for something he didn’t love to do. If he weren’t into music, he probably wouldn’t have done university at all.

“But ecology is interesting. Plants and fungi are great. I’d love to do something in conservation.”

“Yet you do chemistry research?”

“Chemistry is just more for fun,” she laughs. She licks her bottom lip. “What about you? Why music?”

“I’m bad at expressing myself like this,” he waves his hand back and forth between them, “but I can put everything I want to say in song. And hide meanings in the lyrics.”

She studies him. “You know I’m going to ask.”

Jihoon juts his chin in her direction to encourage her to continue.

“Have you written a song about any girls you’ve dated?”

Jihoon snorts. “No. I haven’t.”

“Women you’ve slept with?”

He laughs harder. “Maybe not any of them specifically, but definitely the experiences.”

“So… how many women have you slept with?”

“Why… would you want to know that?”

“I’m under the assumption that you’re seeing other girls besides me,” she explains. “So, what are your numbers like?”

Jihoon does typically see multiple girls at a time, but the amount of effort he’s had to put in with her means he hasn’t had time to meet anyone else. “Well… I can’t count how many girls it is, but at the moment, you’re the only one I’m seeing.”

She tips her head. “You’ve been with so many girls that you can’t even count them?”

“Last year, I was seeing 5-6 different girls a month, 12 months a year…”

“60 minimum last year,” she answers. “And how many this year?”

“Well, January, and then we met halfway through February.” Jihoon shrugs. “4.”

“Me included?”

“Including you is 5.” He reads her expression, the question of why she’s the only one all over her face. “We’re being honest, right?”

“Yes…”

“I’ve had to put a lot of time into you.” He sucks some of the sauce off his thumb. “Maybe I’m intrigued by what your idea of love is.”

She chuckles and motions between them as she bends over to drop her burger box into the paper bag. “This is not what I think it should feel like.”

“So, what should it feel like then?”

“If you’ve never loved someone, Jihoon, I really can’t explain.”

“What about your relationship with Jungkook was so good that you guys can still be friends?”

She snorts. “Oh god. Jungkookie and I couldn’t be friends for a year after we broke up. But,” she shrugs, “his existence was just good for me. Complimented the life I was living, didn’t make it difficult to know what he was thinking. We were honest with our feelings, honest right until the end about where we stood in the relationship.”

Jihoon wonders if all relationships feel like that. “And your relationship after him?”

She rolls her eyes and turns away from him. She digs around for her water bottle and takes a swig. “Yeah, right. You won’t get that out of me.”

“I heard that your friends castrated him.”

Her laugh is hard and sharp, nothing like the other laughs he’s gotten out of her before. “I don’t know what happened to him, honestly. The girls never told me. I heard everything through the grapevine.”

“So… he’s not… dead?”

She shrugs.

Jihoon’s stomach clenches.

“If you’re insistent on walking me home, should we grab your stuff?” she asks, changing the subject entirely.

Jihoon packs up his garbage and picks up the Coke. He opens the cap, hears the fizz, and then takes a few sips. “Why do you not like to talk about him? You won’t even tell me his name.”

“He was important to me, but I… underestimated him. Let’s leave it at that.” Her back is to him, as she bends over to grab her bag. “Please stop asking about him.”

Now that he knows that other people know about Byunggyu, he doesn’t have to pry as much. Someone else must know what actually happened to the man. So, Jihoon agrees not to ask anymore.

[stayarmytinyzenmoa-l]

Honestly, I’ve ready through quite a few other asks we’re people are going on about how Seonghwa spoke badly about her and covering his own ass but my honest opinion…

It makes complete sense he’d actually act that way because:

1. If you’re in such a toxic industry like the Kpop industry where people can be as two faced as they can get, being cautious when someone you don’t personally know approaches you to on a date who has a hella bad track record with rumours makes sense

2. Of course he’d want to cover his ass when it came to all those videos because HELLO THE LAST THING HE NEEDS IS FOR THE SITUATION TO WORSEN AND FOR Y/N TO MISUNDERSTAND THE VIDEOS WHEN HE OBVIOUSLY LOVES HER AND DIDNT WANT TO BREAK UP!!!

Like I don’t know if anyone else is thinking from this narrative with me but clearly he’s not going to have a romantic relationship with the filthy rat bag that is Juliet, for obvious reasons, and he is going to have to confront y/n eventually and explain otherwise…you know… it’s not a Seonghwa x reader 🥴

So yeah, while I get the whole Seonghwa is an asshole vibes that people are throwing out, I also kind of agree with the way he handled it?? Because at the end of the day he doesn’t want to hurt and destroy her career and he mentioned in an earlier chapter-he doesn’t know just how much Juliet is watching him and listening in which makes him paranoid and stops him reaching out too

-🍪

I agree. The whole thing is a lot deeper than just "Seonghwa's an asshole for not being honest with (Y/N) about it" because you're right. I forgot where I mentioned it, but I specified that as soon as ANiMA debuted, (Y/N)'s entire life got exposed and that mixed with rumors complicated a lot of things. One thing about YNSH is that despite those rumors, Seonghwa still asked her out and after a good year plus of dating this man was ready to commit to the relationship 100% with the promise ring. The videos were from a year ago, he probably just remembered them when Juliet played them too.

And he does specify that he doesn't want to make the situation worse. But in doing so, he instead ruins the relationship he did it for. It all boils down to the fact that he elected to hide it from her entirely and to keep her in the dark about what's going on with Juliet. But yeah, he's in (excuse the pun) uncharted waters right now.

But, I'm sure with how (Y/N) is characterized, she would've been more than willing to explore that with him than being shut out.

I can't wait for season 2 now, I'll keep you all on your toes, hehe

[amethystpath-writes]

There is a legend of an enchanting princess who lives inside a giant tower, far away from civilization and deep in the forested mountains. They say that the birds bring her food and water, and every dawn and dusk she looks out her window for any wandering travelers. Every knight that has gone in search of her never returned.

But she is not a damsel trapped inside her prison. She is the guardian of its treasure, and will show no mercy to whoever dares attempt to take it.

(This is very random lol. Have fun!)

“It’s said the princess has hair of gold. Weighs like a normal head of hair, but anything but. And she’s alone- in the forest, surrounded by mountains. Do you know how many carriages have wrecked in the mountains? How many of them have fallen off into the seas?”

Gargon shook his head and tipped it back with a tankard held against his lips. Just a drop of ale left. With a sigh, he smacked it back down on the table and waved at the barkeep. He said to his friend while he waited, “Just myths. What princess gets left alone in a tower for years? Before you answer, I’ll tell you myself; none.”

The barkeep returned with a pitcher of ale and poured it into Gargon’s tankard.

Jemis, Gargon’s buddy, shrugged. “You might not think so, but I fancy the idea. And anyway, I misspoke a bit. The girl isn’t entirely alone. The birds- sparrows, robins, and hawks alike- bring her food. Either way, she stays on the lookout for travellers to find her.”

“Yeah?” Gargon took a swig of his drink. “What about dairy? Do the birds give her milk, too?”

“I don’t know, Gargon, but don’t you find it all even the slightest bit intriguing? Don’t you want to know for yourself?”

Laughing heartily, Gargon knocked his friend’s shoulder with his own. “You have a crush on the legend lady, don’t you?”

Jemis flustered, shoulders bouncing with uncertainty of what to say. His ears were becoming red; he could feel them heating up. “Of course not. I don’t know her, but I’d at least like to know she exists.” He smiled a bit. “And there’s treasure. Did I mention that part?”

“I’ll tell you what. You buy me half of the drinks I had tonight, and we’ll go out to find this forest-mountain princess with gold hair and bird friends. Maybe I can ask her where her dairy comes from.”

“Maybe use a different wording for that question when we get there.”

“Assuming she’s real. Are you paying?”

Jemis dug a pouch out from his belt, peeked inside, shrugged, and tossed it on the counter. “Paid. All of it. Can we go?”

Gargon held a finger up before closing his eyes and sludged his tankard back again, chugging the contents. Jemis shook his head; he was never one for drinking like his best friend was.

Slamming the tankard on the bar, Gargon stood, reaching behind himself and clapping Jemis on the back. “You ready, Sir Lancelot?”

You’d have thought the non-drinking friend was drunk by the way he practically fell from his stool. He followed after Gargon: one, because that was his adventure buddy, and two, because he was afraid Gargon would fall without assistance.

**

It wasn’t a long journey, but it was a dangerous one. Gargon nearly got swept away in a strong stream because his drunk brain stole his balance and common sense.

Jemis near regretted even mentioning the legend princess. But as the trip continued, he began thinking of the little joys; one such being that his friend was thankfully wearing his armour. Otherwise, Jemis listened to the birds chirping, and he imagined they were gathering berries for the rumoured girl in a tower. Why he was so fascinated, he had no idea. Fantasies were fun, and wouldn’t it be amazing to find that one of them was real? And if it was so nearby, why not chase it? What was the harm?

“You see that?”

“Hm?” Jemis stopped in his tracks and turned to look at his friend. Gargon was pointing, and though looking at a finger didn’t tell him where exactly to look, as Jemis looked in the general direction, he saw it. Stone. In just the near distance, maybe a hundred yards away.

“Probably some ruin.”

“I’ll tell you what ruin is, and it’s you ruining the moment, you arse. It’s the princess’ tower. The legend is true.”

Gargon grumbled something along the lines of, “You mad, scrawny lad.” He acted like a fifty-year-old man, but in all reality, both men were barely above the age of twenty.

“Come on, we should keep going.”

“Or we could make a shelter. It’s getting dark, Jemis.”

Looking up at the darkening sky, Jemis almost agreed. But they were so close, so close to that stone tower, so close to meeting the princess with gold hair. “We’re almost there. Surely, she will let us stay in the tower. You know there are wolves and the like out at night. It’s better to be in an already occupied tower than to lay in a tiny shelter made of twigs and leaves.”

Even drunken, Gargon shook his head with a huff. “I’m starting to regret making a deal with you.”

“Oh, come on,” Jemis began walking again, watching the ground, and stepping over rocks and twigs, and all else that the forest floor liked to use to trip people. “It isn’t a far walk. We’ll be there before the moon is up.”

“I can see the moon, it’s behind our heads.”

Jemis looked back and bit his lip. “Torches, from the- from the tavern we just left.”

“Right. Well, we are losing your so-called ‘daylight’ and gaining more ‘torchlight’ so keep walking before it’s gone altogether.”

And so, they walked.

**

The tower was…not very impressive, believe it or not. It was a sad, short thing in comparison to the stories- though still tall enough to see over the tress- with moss growing over it and with holes here and there. Still, Jemis fully believed a princess was hidden away inside.

“Well?” Gargon prompted as his friend just stood there in front of him, staring up at an empty window. “Are we going in or standing out as wolf bait?”

“We go in, of course.”

“Right. Sorry I had to ask. It wasn’t as if we were just standing and gazing at it. What was I thinking?” He huffed. “You know, this whole adventure has managed to make me sober and I’m not happy about it.”

Jemis shushed his friend as he walked towards an old and rotting wooden door. It heaved open and Jemis- in all his glorious skin and bone, fell to the ground, earning a bumble of laughter from Gargon. “Shut up,” he muttered, standing, and dusting himself off.

They took a look at the square room they were in. It was nicer than the outside, more cleaned up, even if there were… bundles of straw? Why was there straw? Jemis dismissed it shortly, figuring maybe it was just the birds. In any case, it was all only pressed up against one wall and it was hardly noticeable if you weren’t deliberately looking for interesting finds.

It was dark, the only light coming from the various holes of the building and slits between stones, which both Jemis and Gargon supposed were meant to be windows.

There were stairs in the back left corner. Jemis took the first step.

“I don’t know about this,” Gargon said with a hand clenched around his buddy’s arm. “We can’t see up there. Whoever- if there is someone- they have the advantage against us.”

Jemis scoffed, pulling his arm away. “It’s fine. I told you the myths. The only thing that is up these stairs is-”

“Hello?”

The men went still as their gaze shifted up the stairwell.

“Is there someone down there?”

Smiling, Jemis looked at Gargon, mouthing, ‘What’d I tell you?’

“Princess? I am Sir Jemis, and my friend behind me-”

“Sir Gargon.” Oh, now he wanted to speak up.

A chirp sounded above the men and a bird came flying down, swooshing above their heads and making them both duck before it retreated upstairs again. Jemis couldn’t help the smile taking over his lips. The legend was real. It was proving itself further, and further, and further.

“May we enter what room you are in, Princess?”

Silence followed for a moment, but then there was another chirp and the princess answered. “The man at the bottom of the stairwell, leave your sword.”

Gargon looked to his hip and squinted before glancing up at the staircase again. He placed a hand on his weapon but didn’t remove it from its scabbard. “It stays with me at all times.” Gargon slept with his sword. He wouldn’t give it to a dirty floor of an old tower when, especially when demand by some random girl who shouldn’t have even known he had a sword.

“Then leave my home.”

Jemis pressed Gargon with a glare. “Just put it down. It’ll be there when we return.”

He shook his head. Absolutely not.

The feminine voice said, “If you do not lay it down- or otherwise leave- I will assume you are just another one of them.”

“One of who, Your Highness?”

The bird came flapping down again, this time flying to the wall where Jemis and Gargon noticed the various piles of clumped straw. It took a bundle in its beak and began slamming it rather viciously against the stone floor. The bundle wasn’t soft as it hit the ground. No. It made a hollow- but also solid- sound.

Gargon’s eyes widened. “Are those…”

“Bones,” the girl upstairs finished. “I am no damsel in distress, but I do like company. Some men took that to their advantage when they saw me- with me being what I am and all.”

“Jemis, we’re leaving. Come on, I feel better about wolves than I do about being here.” He casted a nervous glance at the bird, still beating a bone against the ground. Gargon grabbed his friend’s shoulder. “Let’s g-”

“Hold on,” Jemis whispered, and he stepped forward, head tilting like he saw something he fancied or was curious about.

As Gargon looked up, he saw it, too. Gold. The most glorious gold he’d ever seen. He was never one for the precious metals; he liked jewels, mostly, but this…he didn’t even know his mouth was open until he caught a cool breeze with it and snapped his lips shut.

“Drop. Your. Weapon.” The princess stepped fully into view, right at the top of the stairwell. Her skin was golden, and her hair, as well. Not only this, but her eyes were golden, too. She was…she was beautiful. She was magnificent. She was unimaginable.

Gargon nodded, wrapping his fingers around the grip of his sword, and pulling it away before dropping it on the ground. “Yes, Your Highness. I apologize if I made you feel threatened.” He bowed, and Jemis followed suit in a rather dazed way.

“You are forgiven. Now, come upstairs and tell me some stories. I do not have the pleasure of hearing them often.”

Jemis nodded, but all he could think about was how true and yet how wrong the rumours were. The princess was real, and she did live in this tower, and she did have some odd relationship with birds, but the treasure…The stories were told as if there were piles of gold. No one said the princess was the treasure herself.

Gods, her eyes were so enchanting as she watched the two men climb the stairs. They were golden, yes, but not in a solid metal kind of way. They swirled as if the stars also pooled in her eyes and were being stirred in with the gleaming yellow and orange. The men were entranced.

The room they walked into wasn’t special. It was just like the downstairs minus the….the human bones…and there was furniture in here, which was nice. They all sat in individual chairs made of creaking wood.

“It isn’t often I have two knights come to save the day.”

“Oh, I- I wasn’t- I didn’t think-”

“He was unsure if you were real or not,” Gargon filled in. “No saving intended.”

Jemis nodded rapidly. “I mean, if you needed help then we could- but you are handling yourself, so I- so we don’t…um…I apologize.”

The princess hummed sweetly. “What about you, swordsman? Did you believe in my existence?”

“N-no. I did not.”

“You have a scar on your eye,” Jemis muttered, and he hadn’t meant to be heard, but he was.

Touching her brow, where the scar was most noticeable, she sighed, looking to Gargon. “You understand why I demanded you put your sword down, yes?”

“Of course.” Gargon looked away from the princess’ beautiful eyes, looking instead at his lap, then his buddy, and his lap again when he noticed Jemis simply ogling the girl. “I am sincerely sorry. I had no idea that you…I am sorry.”

She laughed, and both men felt themselves smiling at the sound. Like caramel or something sweet, Jemis thought.

“You two are the most apologetic I have ever met. Tell me, do either of you have precious loves at home?”

“We don’t! Do not. Uh. We do not, Princess.”

Her smile fell into something mischievous. She stood from her seat, walking over to Jemis, then walking behind him, allowing her fingers to trail around his neck as she stepped. “Do you desire a strong love in your life?”

“Do I? I-I think every-everyone does.” He couldn’t think with her golden skin touching his own rather bland skin. “Gargon! You- aha- you talked about settling down when we were in the tavern, didn’t you?”

No. He didn’t. He and Jemis never even came close to discussing relationships because neither of them wanted it. They were knights- soldiers. Love had no place for them even if they wanted it. Sure, romance was glorified in the stories, but it wasn’t real, not when you could be sent off to war at any moment. Love was a fairytale, and even with the stunning princess in the room, he still didn’t believe love was one of them. Jemis suddenly did, though. And it wasn’t right because this was the first time he ever fancied it.

The princess made her way to Gargon, doing to him what she did to Jemis, dragging her beautiful skin against his. “Your colour contrasts greatly against mine,” she whispered, her hand stopping at the base of his neck as she bent down to his ear. “I dare say you are as beautiful as I am.”

“Flattering, Your Highness, but unlike my friend, I have duties to fulfil.”

“Am I not allowed to flirt with a knight?” Her lips turned against his ear and he took a shaky breath. “And anyways, who said I had deeper intentions? At least with you.” The princess pulled away from Gargon and began a leisurely stroll towards the open-mouthed Jemis once again.

Gargon stood with a dry mouth. “Jemis, we need to return home. Thank you for allowing us to stay, Your Highness, but I-”

She brought a finger to her lips. “He cannot hear you now.” The princess giggled, and this time it sounded closer to poison than sugared treats. “Your mind is very strong, Sir Gargon. I might like to keep you for a little while longer. Sir Jemis, however…”

Her Highness sighed and did the same finger-around-the-neck that she did before. Gargon watched as his friend’s eyes snapped shut. His own eyes widened and without another thought, he ran down the stairs in search of his sword, but it wasn’t there where he dropped it before.

He turned, watching the top of the staircase, and wondering what the hell he should do. Gargon wouldn’t leave his friend- he could never, but without his sword…He turned back to the floor as he thought. Gargon could hit the princess, knock her out, but that…that wasn’t right. Why was the idea of shoving her through with a sword easier than manhandling her? It didn’t matter. Where was his damn sword?

“You have been the most fun knight, Sir Gargon. You came here for treasure, did you not? I could see it in your head, that little conversation you had at the tavern with your friend upstairs. You only agreed to come when you knew you would gain something. That changed, didn’t it?”

Gargon spun on his heel, backed up step by step until his back hit the wall. It was too dark to see the bones anymore, or even the bloody door. He was trapped.

Except, the princess glowed. Bright and beautiful, her golden skin shone like an ingot in the sunlight, only her glow was confined to her skin, it didn’t stretch- didn’t light the room. It was through the glow, however, that he saw the red covering her mouth.

Tears pricked his eyes. “Please- please tell me he- tell me he is alive.”

“Would it give you hope?” Gargon didn’t answer. “I think it would, so I will say it. Your friend is alive, but I am not quite sure for how long.” She tapped her chin as she stalked towards the terrified knight. “Humans bleed out very fast.”

“What…are you?” His voice was breathy, almost unwilling to come out at all.

“Treasure.”

His mind wasn’t so hard to break this time. She broke him down with the blood on her face from her meal upstairs- which she very much enjoyed. But, the treasure-seekers were always so much more delicious, and Gargon certainly was.

( @whatwhumpcomments )

[httpsfelicity]

“In a black dress, she's such an actress” - Harry Styles × Model Reader AU

Summary - Harry meets a model downtown and falls for her quickly, leading the public to think that it’s a pr stunt. Unsure of what to think, the reader plays along, not knowing that Harry is unaware of the rumours. 

For @cruizmanadu! Xx

A/N - Okay, this is my first official request type thing so please tell me if it’s good or not! Ignore any mistakes, thought I think I looked over it pretty well. Also, if you’d like a part 2 / have suggestions / ect, just send a DM or ask! Here you go babes, hope you like it x

“If I don’t get coffee right now, I’m going to pass out on this sidewalk, I swear,” moaned Ella. 

“We’re almost there, calm down,” you responded as you adjusted the shopping bags in your hands quickly. You and your best friend Ella had decided to go out in NYC for the day, which of course meant loads of shopping. Hell, half of the bags you were carrying weren’t even yours - Ella had a shoot the next day, and insisted that she couldn’t carry her bags out of fear that she’d mark up her hands. So you were carrying enough bags to “Mark up your hands”, according to Ella. Which, to be fair, was quite unfair, because that girl shops a lot.

“Hey, can you take some of these, just until we get there? I’m getting kinda-”

“Oh. My. Gosh.” She lowered her voice and leaned in towards you. “Don’t look yet, keep walking, but some guy is totally checking you out.”

You sighed. “How could the paps have found us? I thought we covered our tracks nicel-”

She cut you off once again. “No, no, not a pap. This guy, he’s, well - okay, look to your left riiiight... now.”

You quickly glanced over to see a guy in his 20′s wearing a multicoloured knit sweater with messy brown hair, looking in your general direction. He quickly looked away when he saw you. You looked away, which was unfortunate, because you would’ve seen him gathering up the courage to walk over to you two.

"He's pretty fit," you whispered back quickly. "Do you think he recognizes me?" It sounds very stuck up, but often times people tried to hit on you solely because you model for the big brands, so you had to be careful. Being in the industry had a lot of pros, but a lot of cons as well. Not knowing who your real friends are were one of the cons.

"I'm not sure," Ella replied.

Just then, you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned around and saw that you were face to face with the boy.

"Hello," he started nervously. He had a charming British accent, you noticed right away.

"Hi!" You replied, waiting for him to say something totally obnoxious or fan-like.

"This probably sounds weird, but I couldn't help but notice you."

"Oh, why thank you!" You laughed. "He doesn't seem too creepy or weird or stalker-ish," you thought to yourself.

"Yeah, so, um... This is weird as well, I'm sorry, but could I get your number?" He smiled weakly.

"No, absolutely not," said Ella, grabbing you by the arm and starting to drag you away. "C'mon."

She only walked a few feet until you broke away and went back over to him. "I'm sorry about that - of course you can."

His nervous expression eased away the tiniest bit. "Oh, that's great."

He handed you his phone, and you typed in you number."

***-****-****

"I'm Harry, by the way. Harry Styles."

"Oh! I'm y/n."

"Why does that sound familiar?"

"I work in the modeling industry. You might have heard of me from that?"

"I should've known you were a model - you've definitely got the looks. And I'm sure the personality as well."

You grinned.

"I'm a singer," he continued. "I used to be in a band - now I'm solo. So that's one thing we have in common, I guess. Well, not really. You know what I mean."

"You're right!" You laughed. "He's pretty easy to talk to," you thought. Even though you didn't want to, you could feel Ella staring at the back of your neck impatiently, so you decided to wrap up the conversation. "Well, I've got to go, but you'll message me later, yeah?"

"Of course," he nodded. "Well, goodbye for now, y/n."

"Goodbye, Harry Styles."

"What was that?!" Ella asked once he was out of earshot.

"What? He's polite and cute. Of course I have him my number!"

"He could be a creepy obsessive fan! Or a perv! Or a crackhead! He's just some random guy on the streets, for all we know!"

"Would you calm down? He's so nice - I just know he wouldn't do that. Plus, that sweater is awfully expensive. Almost 2k."

Ella rolled her eyes. "Okay, sure."

"Oh, and he's a singer."

Ella snapped her head to look at you, clearly very shocked by this statement. "He's what?"

"A singer, apparently."

"What's his name?"

"Harry Styles."

"Oh. My. God. My friend had a shoot with him once! He's popular, y/n. Really popular."

"God, you sound like a middle-schooler."

"I'm just sayin'! But now that I know this information, I've changed my opinion on him. GO FOR IT."

"I was already planning on it," you laugh, walking past a group of starstruck thirteen year olds quickly. "Although I'm not so sure. I didn't get his number - it's up to him to message me."

"He'd better," Ella replied as the two of you walked into a local café. You nodded in agreement, and you both walked up the the register to order.

The rest of the day was a blur - you went to a few more stores, and then eventually hailed a cab and went back to your apartment. You were so exhausted that you kicked off your shoes and flopped into your couch, too tired to even eat. As you lie there, you felt your phone vibrate in you pocket. Reluctantly, you pulled it out slowly, and clicked it on.

***-****-**** - Hello.

Your first though was, "It's Harry!" Your second thought was, "That's a very ominous introduction." Nonetheless, you typed up a response.

Y/n <3 - Who's this?

***-****-**** - Harry, from earlier hahah x

You let out a sigh of relief - he had messaged you back, and it hadn't been some rando. Things were working out nicely.

Y/n <3 - Well, hello!

While you were waiting for a response, you set his contact name up. You hadn't gotten a photo of him yet, so you decided one from Google would do. You typed up "Harry Styles", and the search results shocked you. Ella was right - he was popular. And cute (But you already knew that.) You got a notification from him, so you screenshotted the first photo to come up (Him in a very nice pink top), set it as his photo, and then went back onto messages.

Harry Styles - Hi! I'm sorry if the whole encounter earlier was creepy. Your friend seemed quite worked up over it.

Y/n <3 - She's had bad experiences like this in the past.

Harry Styles - I've had quite a few myself, honestly. Don't blame her. Anyways, how are you?

Y/n <3 - Exhausted. All that walking must've worn me out, hahaha

Harry Styles - Hahah, that's New York for ya.

Harry Styles - Would you happen to be free tomorrow?

Harry Styles - I'd love to get to know you.

You grinned at your phone screen. This could not be happening.

Y/n <3 - Nope! Free all day. I'd love to get to know you too!

Harry Styles - Does 1pm at the Beachwood Café work? :)

He sent a location along with it. It was the same café you and Ella had gone to earlier.

Y/n <3 - Sure!

Harry Styles - Alright, talk then?

Y/n <3 - Yes!

Harry Styles - Goodnight.

Y/n <3 - Goodnight!

Seen - 11:34pm.

The next day you woke up at 10 so you would have time to get ready. You got a quick shower, did you hair, makeup... By 12:30 you were dressed and ready to go. Casual, but not too casual was what you were going for. You were pretty sure you had the look down pat. You grabbed your stuff and made your way downtown, sunglasses on.

You arrived early, 12:48pm, but luckily Harry was already there, waiting at a table near the back with two menus. He waved once he saw you, and jumped up to pull out your chair.

"Hello," you smiled.

"Hi!"

"I adore your outfit," you said as you sat down. He was now wearing a white and blue striped shirt and tan jeans. Somehow he made it work.

"I love yours as well! The skirt brings out your eyes."

You tried hard not to blush. "Thank you!"

"So, I guess we should start getting to know eachother, then?" He grinned.

You nodded. "20 questions?"

"Sure. Full name?"

"Y/n."

"Harry Edward Styles."

"I like that middle name. Very sophisticated." He laughed at this. "Age?"

"26."

"23."

"Favourite movie?"

"Clueless."

"Back To The Future."

You continued asking questions until the waiter came over to your table.

"I'll have the chicken sub," he said politely.

"I'll have a medium lemonade."

"Is that it?" Harry asked.

You sighed. "And a blueberry muffin, I guess."

The waiter wrote it down and walked off.

"I'm on a diet," you explained.

"Still," Harry shrugged. "So, tell me about yourself."

"Well, I started modeling at about age 8, for this clothing bran-"

"No no no, I meant about you."

You gave him a confused look.

"Not about your job, you!"

"Okay, well, let's see... Uh..."

"I'm 26, but you already knew that. I live in New York, obviously. I used to work in a bakery, even though I just told you not to talk about your job. I like playing football, I write, and I enjoy baking bread. See? Easy."

You laughed. Why did he have to be so... Charming?

"I'm 23, but you already knew that. I've lived in New York my whole life. I read a lot, and I mean a lot. I have a ton of plants in my apartment, since I can't really have a garden here. I like Taylor Swift's music."

Harry nodded. "See? That wasn't so bad."

You laughed. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

Just then the waiter placed the food on the table, and you took a sip of your lemonade while Harry dug into his sub.

"I dated Taylor for a pr stunt once."

"Really?"

"Yeah. She got a few songs, I got a new story to tell during interviews."

"Oh. Did you like her?"

"Nah."

You laughed again. "Oh, my."

"Yeah. I haven't had many actual relationships. 3."

"I haven't had any."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Not many guys are interested. Or, well, interested in me, you know?"

"I find that hard to believe."

You tried not to blush once again as you took a sip of your lemonade.

"Well, it's true."

"Personally, I think you're great."

"You are too!"

The two of you continue eating. After two minutes, Harry speaks up.

"Want to go back to my apartment and watch a movie? In a non weird way, of course."

"Okay, that sounds good. Which movie?"

"Clueless?" He winked.

You grinned. "Of course."

You get up and walk out into the streets of New York, leaving your blueberry muffin on the table.

The walk to Harry's is very short. You two talk the whole way there, mainly small talk, but it isn’t awkward at all. You feel like you can be yourself around him - whatever that means. To put it into words, you feel comfortable around him. Which is weird, because you just met him a day ago, but it feels right for some reason.

Eventually you arrived at the door to his apartment. While he was busy digging his key out of his pocket, you took a glance up and down the hallway. This place was much fancier than you had expected. It made your apartment complex look cheap. Everything seemed so... posh. Harry pushed open the door, and you stepped inside. His apartment was decorated with art; albums of artists you’ve never even heard of were hung on the walls, and potted plants were everywhere. It was messy, but in an organized way.

“I just need to run to the washroom, make yourself at home,” he said as he kicked off his shoes. 

“Alright,” you replied. You put your coat on a coat rack (Obviously) and walked over to the couch. Unsure of what to do, you decided to check twitter. After a few seconds of contemplating if checking your phone right now was rude or not, you decided to turn on your data and do it, since he was in the bathroom and you were bored. You looked over you shoulder, then hit the trending page. Politics, Ariana Grande - she must be releasing a new album - #TGIF, and... Harry Styles? Without thinking twice, you click on it. Immediately, photos of you and him pop up from when you were walking back to his place. That was only a few minutes ago... how did these photos get out so soon?

“You ready?” Harry asked as he entered the room, holding up a DVD case with an excited look on his face.

“Yep,” you said, putting down your phone. A second later, you picked it back up. “Did you see twitter?”

“No, I don’t go on social media much,” he replied as he popped the disc into his bluray player.

“You’re trending.”

“Cool.”

“No, I mean... we got papped on the way back here. Look.” You turned the phone so he could see it. 

He took a glance at the screen, then grabbed a remote and flopped onto the couch next to you. “It doesn’t really bother me. Happens far too often. I mean, unless you have a problem with it. I can get them taken down, if you’d like.” Suddenly, his usual relaxed self has replaced with a worried one.

You shook your head. “No, no, I... just letting you know. I don’t care. Besides, I didn’t see many people talking about it, just sharing the photos.”

“Oh, well, if you change your mind, just let me know,” he concluded as he turned on the TV.

You nodded, and then focused on Cher Horowitz on the screen. You didn’t watch much of the movie, because you and Harry kept on cracking jokes and telling stories, but you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

Eventually, it was time for you to leave, since it was nearly 5pm. 

“Do you want me to walk you back? Or, I could call you a cab,” Harry asked as you slipped on your shoes.

“Oh, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

“No, no, I’ll walk you back,” he insisted as he grabbed his coat.

You weren’t about to argue with him, because, let’s face it, you secretly wanted him to walk you home. So you followed him out the door and to the elevator.

You talked the whole way there, but you were distracted just a tiny bit - you wanted to keep an eye out for paps. Eventually you decided that it was difficult and pointless, so you fully engaged yourself in Harry’s conversation on how to make a mean loaf of bread.

A few minutes later, you arrived at your place.

“Well, this is it,” you grinned sadly.

Harry nodded. “I’ll message you later?”

“Of course. We have to do this again, you know.”

Harry smiled wide. “Sure. I’d love that.”

“Well... goodbye, Harry.”

He leaned in and gave you a quick kiss on the cheek. “Goodbye, y/n.” 

You stared back at him, starstruck, but he turned and started walking down the hall before you could say anything. “Love ya!” You called out quickly before you shut the door behind you, unsure if he even heard you. Oh, well. He’d message you later, anyways.

You were quite hungry by this point, so you decided to order Chinese food off of Postmates. Once that call was made, you sat down and opened Twitter again. You noticed that you had way more notifications than usual, but you decided that could wait until after you checked the trending topics once more. “Harry Styles” was still trending, but even more surprisingly, “Y/n” was right underneath it. You decided to hit Harry’s topic first - MORE pap photos came up, this time from when you were walking home. Wow. 

“We do look like a proper couple.” You thought, though you quickly shook it. You’d just met - although you know what they say, “Love at first sight” and all that crap.But no. 

You decided to scroll down even further, past all of the photos and to the actual tweets.

@Harryscherry77: Is @ yn Harry’s new girlfriend? If so, she’s soooooo lucky.

@Y/nsclouds: Why is y/n being papped with Harry Styles? She can do much better. His music isn’t even that good.

@Lightsuplouisx: I ship it, tbh {Insert photo here}

@TaylorxxxTea: Oh cute, another pr stunt :/ #HarryStyles IsOverParty

@GalacticY/N26: Ugh, Harry? Really? I’m seriously gonna unstan Y/n, I’ve been considering it but this is just the last straw for me.

@HarryIsUpAllNight: Did you guys know the girl Harry was papped with is a model? She’s absolutely gorgeous, I wouldn’t doubt it.

@Stylesfangirl49: Y/n is honestly so ugly. #RunHarryRun 

@SummertimeNewsOfficial: Has Harry Styles been spotted with yet another woman, months after his breakup with Camille? {Insert Link Here}

@Larry2020xxx: Another beard LMAOOO c’mon. PR STUNTTTT.

@Lola33smith: They haven’t even been confirmed dating yet, calm downnnnn.

“Wow,” you thought as you continued scrolling. “This is not what I was expecting.”

It seemed like the whole internet had something to say about a few lousy pictures of you and H. There was good and bad, though it felt like the bad outweighed the good. An alarming amount of people seemed to think it was a pr stunt. Wow. Your notifications weren’t much better - loads of people had followed you, dm’ed you, called you worthless, called you amazing. It was a lot to handle. Just then the doorbell rang - your Postmates. How long had you been looking through all of that? It didn’t matter now. You went to get your food, then sat back down and began to text Harry. Suddenly, you stopped. If he got so worried about the first set of photos, not to mention you walking home by yourself, how would he react to this? He had said he doesn’t go on social media much, so you figured that as long as you didn’t tell him, it would all blow over quick enough and he wouldn’t have to worry about it. You didn’t want to stress him out. Instead, to take your mind off of this chaotic day you turned on The Office and tried to regain a sense of normalcy. 

Although the more you thought about it, the less and less you wanted Harry to message you. 

“PR stunt.”

EDIT: CHAPTER TWO IS NOW OUT! CLICK HERE

[emilx311]

Hello, I am alive. Things got crazy, because of 2020 craziness and because of non-2020 related things with the hotel I work at means I've been overworked, stressed, tired, and barely functional for the past few months (I will be posting a more detailed update soon for those who are curious).

Rumour credits to Anons, TotallyARealPerson, ThePrincessDragon, and NatyNatNes (some ideas were altered to better fit the narrative flow). As always please feel free to suggest ideas for chapters and more rumours.

Read under the break or on AO3

The Uchiha realized very quickly that what had started out as a campaign of joking misinformation had quickly grown out of hand-and not just within the village. Oh no, now Uchiha on missions reported back with new rumoured sightings of the former Senju albino that they had had no hand in creating. They loved it.  The clan as a whole found it hilarious and were fanning the flames shamelessly, though they would admit that it made judging the bet a bit harder than anticipated.

“According to the villages near the border with Sand,” an Uchiha just back from a mission told their clan head; “the Kazekage clan picked him up. It seems,” here they had to pause to muffle their laughter before continuing. “It seems that he has the sand release, but could never use it because there is no sand in Fire country!” Tobirama, sitting beside his snickering partner, wonders if he could actually find some way to control sand (mix it in with a bit of water perhaps….). Sand which they do, most definitely, have in Fire!

“He became a pot maker on the border between Earth and Water country. I’ve heard tell that his pots hardly leak at all!” One civilian tells another, neither paying any attention to the tall but otherwise generic Uchiha passing them. Tobirama is uncertain if he should be insulted or not. On one hand, making pots is beyond his skills, but on the other, he would never sell someone something so faulty as to leak!

“Soooo,” Izuna starts at dinner one day, looking far too amused for Madara’s or Tobirama’s sanity. “How come you never told us we were housing a God?” He prods Tobirama.

“What?” The albino asks, honestly confused.

“Weeeeell, I heard that you dropped off the map and started hiding out because a fifth village conferred Godhood upon you and you just couldn’t take the pressure!” The Uchiha heir cackles as Tobirama’s brow twitched.

“It was one village and they considered me an incarnate, not their actual God, fully powered and immortal” he grumbled, still annoyed about the incident in question and how the Uzumaki had attempted to force him to move into their shrine so he could protect them from the waves and waters (as that God was said to do) in exchange for worship and luxury. He tracks down the source of that particular rumour the next day with Izuna’s help in the hopes of stopping it in its tracks before it could spread too far (he shuddered to think of what the Uzumaki might do if reminded of their original beliefs and desires about him, especially when combined with the knowledge he no longer had the backing on the Senju). He manages to do this by providing the original teller with an even more outrageous explanation for his disappearance.

“He’s not in hiding from mortals” he ‘whispers’ loudly to the intoxicated civilian who had started the rumour Izuna had overheard, “while not a God he is part spirit-it’s obvious when you look at his skill with suiton, why do you think they thought him a God in the first place? No, no mere mortal he, and no longer part of the mortal world anymore for the spirits have taken their brother home to their side of the veil to dwell among them for all time!” The man gasps with wide eyes, completely taken in by the tale and soon his original story has been forgotten in favour of this one.

Overall Tobirama is well pleased, even if he does have to put up with Madara and Izuna teasing him about his “divine” nature. Well, he does until they do so outside and he reminds them that, while he might not be a God or spirit, his control over water is very real by taking a page out of Madara’s book and dumping a good portion of the koi pond on them. He wishes it were as easy to douse some of the more ridiculous ideas people soon start spreading around.

“Half-spirit? Nah, he’s totally mortal himself, he’s just with the Bijuu! They took a liking to him and hid him away somewhere ancient and forgotten that no other humans have seen since the time of the Sage!”

“Yeah! I’ve heard the Sanbi was so impressed with his jutsu that they offered to teach him water techniques forgotten by humans aeons ago.”

“No way, not the Sanbi! He’s actually there with the Nibi who has adopted him as her long-lost kit!”

“The Bijuu? Come on, he’s obviously been taken as a bride by the Shinigami! The death God has been waiting over a thousand years for the soul foretold to match his to be born.”

“What does the Shinigami want with a spouse? No, no he once saved a selkie on a mission by the sea and she fell in love with him, so, upon hearing of his plight she stole him away to live with her people in their islands which are hidden well beyond Uzushio where even the Uzumaki fear to roam.”

“There’s nothing supernatural about it! He’s settled down near the capital and has gotten rich writing porn under a nom de plume. Now, if only I could remember what the name was…”

Tobirama was so glad that he happened to be in the market place when his brother heard that one for the first time. The illustrious Senju clan head, Hokage of Konoha turned red, then green, then red again, before blanching chalk white and swaying on his feet. Yes, that had truly been a treat. It was almost enough to make him reconsider his career path simply to scandalize his brother…almost (he could always look into it as a side gig later he figured).

[annikasafternoonread]

An Absolutely Remarkable Thing (by Hank Green) -- Part 2

Hello! Welcome to part 2 of the intro post for An Absolutely Remarkable Thing: Annika-has-feelings-about-Hank-Green-and-celebrity-culture edition. This post is less focused on the book itself and more just exploring general themes and ideas; you can find the post that looks more at the book specifically here. 

So. An Absolutely Remarkable Thing is one of the coolest and most detailed explorations of celebrity that I’ve ever had the pleasure to experience. And it really is a pleasure. Not always fun, but so so good. It makes sense that Hank Green would have insights into that sphere of things, as someone who, well, started out as a normal (if comfortably wealthy) guy and then suddenly found himself accidentally skyrocketed into fame from making some fun videos. He was lucky, in that he was able to harness that attention and power and become stable and successful in his newfound role as an internet creator. But he was also lucky in that he had the right mindset or support systems or such to realize what he had, and the possibilities and drawbacks and responsibilities it came with.

Hank very much has a unique view into this, for several reasons. First of all, he was quite early to online fame -- VlogBrothers was started in 2007, and took off later that same year. For reference, YouTube itself was only two years old at that point; it started in 2005. So in the almost 15 years since, Hank has had the opportunity to see a lot of different stories play out among creators -- to see them explode in popularity and then fuck up spectacularly, or see them grow steadily and then burn out painfully, or see them take their fans for granted or even take advantage of them. Occasionally everything goes right, but it’s hard, and honestly it’s kind of rare. It’s hard to handle that kind of attention and numbers and power, hard to remain kind and humble and open, hard to listen to criticism without letting it break you and to not step too far out of line before you know better.

But another advantage he had was -- he was old. Not old-old, of course, but he was 27 when VlogBrothers exploded. When so many celebrities popping up these days (especially through social media) are teenagers, or early twenties at the oldest, 27 feels ancient. It meant that he had already lived in the world, already knew who he was and who he wanted to be, already had a strong self-image and strong values. And he had a strong support system around him through his family and friends -- including, of course, his co-VlogBrother, John Green. Having the responsibility and power of their work shared between them likely made a huge difference, as everything they did wasn’t just about one of them but about their shared brand, and they realized that and respected it and each other.

They recognized the power they wielded. They knew how easy it could be to misuse. They were very conscious of their status as role models. They cared about their community and their relationship with it. And there have been times where things were messy, where they made mistakes or said things they shouldn’t have or were mixed up in someone else’s mess. But they’ve always listened and apologized and learned and changed when they needed to. They’ve always encouraged kindness and compassion and hope and education, trying to provide it and nurture it in others around them. Hank has also talked about how he often reaches out to creators who he has heard rumours about or has concerns that they may be on the edge of abusing their power, to try to explain to them what that could mean and who they could hurt -- and hopefully to make them aware and cautious of those potential harms before things go too far.

Fame can be dangerous. That might or might not seem profound, but it’s very true, and it’s not talked about a lot. When I see famous people -- especially young people -- acting selfish or foolish or hubristic or uncaringly, yeah it makes me angry sometimes, but it also makes me sad. Because, think about it -- if you were 13 years old, and suddenly the world was laid in front of you... if you had more money than you could ever imagine, access to anything or anyone you wanted, if no one ever told you no and you had no one to keep you grounded... you’d probably get lost too. Think of how many child stars have flamed out, have lost themselves in subtances or had mental health crises or turned cruel and uncaring to the people around them or even their fans. It’s still a problem, to be sure, but the path from point A to point B is pretty clear. And I feel bad for those kids, who lost their way, who weren’t protected.

Social media has also had a huge impact on this stuff, of course. It’s so much easier for things to happen so much faster -- someone is nobody one day, and then the next day the world knows their name. It also means celebrities feel more accessible to their fans, and we often know a lot more about their personal or day-to-day lives. But sometimes fans can feel entitled to this information, or to the attention of the people they follow. It’s also easier for someone to say something offhand, without really thinking about it, and for that error to spread around the world in seconds. And you know as well as I do that internet culture is Not Great at accepting apologies or giving second chances. This also comes into play with how social media is almost a repository for all the dumb shit we said before we knew any better, and the internet loves digging up five year old mistakes that don’t represent someone now. I’m not excusing saying those kinds of things, and I don’t really have the patience to tease out the nuance of how “cancel culture” as a concept has been corrupted and twisted and used for a wild variety of things, but suffice to say there’s a lot of range between concepts like “I’m no longer buying work from an author because they turned out to be a ranging transphobe” and “anyone who likes this person’s music is terrible because the artist used a word they shouldn’t have five years ago when they were fourteen” and “this person got fired for discriminating against queer people” and “I’m not going to family Thanksgiving because none of my relatives are vaccinated and I have a heart condition.” 

I’m starting to lose track of what I’m saying, so I’m going to wrap it up here. TL;DR is that Hank Green is super smart and has really unique insights into and experience with internet and celebrity culture, and I love seeing his takes on those concepts through this book. It’s a fantastic book, with complex and important ideas and themes but also a truly captivating story, and the story and the themes feed and nourish and grow each other so well. It’s just great. 

I can’t wait to get started... but probably on Monday. I hope. Maybe Tuesday. 

[heywardsarchive]

a beautiful dream

Remus Lupin x reader                                                                                Remus is my absolute favourite marauder and he doesn’t get enough love. So in his honour, enjoy this oneshot.

warning: fluff to angst, remus being pessimistic and a few swear words

gif not mine credits to the owner

this is for Ria’s 2k writing challenge. @im-a-writer-right​

word count 4k words

lets begin~

Magic had made many things possible. It made many things easier as well. But there were some stupid things that in my opinion were stupid. One of those things was the idea of soulmates. Who gave the ministry of magic the right to decide who i was meant for? Well, if i’m being honest at first the thought of having a soulmate fascinated  me. I was so happy to know i had someone out there for me. Well, that was until i developed a crush on none other than Remus Lupin.

We met on the hogwarts express before first year started. I was sitting in a carriage with my oldest and most annoying best friend- James Potter. James was like a brother to me, a very annoying possessive brother. He made sure to sit with me on the carriage and make me part of his group. Basically what was his was mine as well. Anyway I became the fifth marauder. The  mom of the group. It was upon me to look after them (mostly James and Sirius because they were both big babies who needed loads of attention.) and make sure they didn’t do anything too stupid (I obviously failed most of the time and they always ended up in detention) Some people even called me their mom. 

I’m getting off track. Where was i? Ah, yes. The whole soulmate thing. Basically on your 16th birthday you develop a connection with your soulmate and can hear their thoughts and feel their emotions. Isn’t that like an invasion of privacy?My friends say that I’m just being difficult because i have a crush on someone else and cannot accept the prospect of him dating another person. I hate to admit it but they are right. 

my 16th birthday was in a few weeks and James decided that i needed a huge birthday party and there was no way he was taking  no for an answer. After a lot of protest from me and a lot of bribing from James and the occasional puppy dog eyes from Sirius I gave in. They started giving out duties to everyone. I while on my prefect rounds had to help Sirius sneak out to Hogsmeade where he would buy drinks. I made him promise not to get any alcohol but was he going to listen to me? No. The days flew by very quickly and i was not happy. I made my unhappiness very vocal among my friends. They were surprised because i was one of the few who hated the soulmate system. To get to the bottom of the whole situation, the night before my birthday, they surrounded me asked  no demanded I tell them why i suddenly hated the whole soulmate thing. After beating around the bush for i long time i sighed and said,” I have a crush on Remus okay? I can’t bare the thought of someone else being his soulmate.” “Aw honey, don’t be sad. What if Remus is your soulmate?” Lily said, trying to lift my spirits. It was a good effort but i was still dejected. They saw my sad state and dropped the subject. I was grateful for that.

We chatted a bit more after that but i was tired so i went to bed. I could have slept in but no, at 8am Lily, Alice and Marlene blew a party horn so loudly near my ear that i thought there was fire and woke up frantically. My face must have been a sight to see because they burst out laughing. Meanies. To make my morning even more eventful, the boys were waiting at the foot of the staircase waiting for me to arrive just so they could wish me so loudly that the entire gryffindor tower woke up. “That was unnecessary.” I scolded them. “Yes mummy.” said Sirius and i shot him a glare. “So y/n any plans of finding your soulmate today?” James asked throwing an arm around me. I had totally forgotten that from today onward i could another person’s thoughts. Ugh. 

“Well?” Said James looking hopefully at me. “I don’t like the whole idea of soulmates anymore, you know that James.” I said looking at him. For some odd reason, i felt a wave of sadness wash over me. Weird. I ignored it and threw my arm around the Sirius’ shoulder. “So Pads what do you have planned for yours truly today.” He put his arm around my waist and head on my shoulder. Jealousy washed over me. Why was my soulmate feeling all negative emotions? It wasn't wierd to me because sirius was like the brother I never had. "Well love, we have planned something extra special for you." "Tell me what it is." I have him puppy dog eyes. "You'll get to know soon enough." I gave him one more pout before giving up. "Ok that's enough." Came a voice. Remus. "Let's go eat breakfast." I nodded and followed him and the marauders to the Great Hall. Lily, Alice and Marlene had already been seated there and saved me place. I sat down across Remus who was picking at his food. The full moon was close so he probably was unhappy. "Remus are you alright?" I asked. "Yeah, just peachy." I decided not to press further and let it go.

I chatted with the girls for a while before telling them I'm going for a walk. They seemed happy to see me leave probably because I knew they had a surprise planned for me before my party. Anyway, I sat under a tree near the Black lake and thought that I might as well contact my soulmate since we're stuck together anyway. I closed my eyes. "Hello?" No reply. I tried again. "Hello? Soulmate, you there?" Maybe they weren't 16 yet. (Remus' birthday is in march so if your birthday is before March 10 just pretend it's not)But wait, that's not possible. I could feel their emotions just a few hours back. Was my soulmate ignoring me? Uh, rude. "Ok mr soulmate if you don't want to talk to me that's fine. I'm as unhappy about this soulmate rubbish as you are since you're clearly ignoring me." Guilt. Aha caught him.

"I wasn't ignoring you. I was busy." Oh so now he replies. "Well that was rude." "I'm sorry." Atleast he apologized. "So what year are you in?" Wait that was a dumb question. He's probably in his sixth or seventh year like me. "I'm in my sixth year." "Oh! Me too! Which house are you in? Im a gryffindor." "Yeah, I'm a gryffindor too." Okay. So a gryffindor sixth year. I probably know him. "Do I know you?" "Probably. What's your name?" "Y/n." I felt shock wash over me. After that there was no reply just a series of shit shit shit. The cursing stopped abruptly when he probably realised I could hear him. He started singing dance like a hippogriff to cover up his thoughts, I think. I guess my soulmate likes someone else too. I decided to return back to my dorm until the girls decided to take me to my surprise.

When I walked into the dorm I expected it to be empty and not filled to the brim with balloons? Why were there a million balloons in my dorm. "It's for your surprise. Crap." Ah so he is one of the marauders. Oh dear god please not James. I can't see him in that way. This is bad. Then again maybe it isn't the marauders. They could have told the other boys what they were doing. You never know with those boys. They covered my eyes with a cloth and then sirius picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. Dear god what is happening? I was carried a long distance before I was set down on the grass. "Can I take off the cloth now?" "Not yet, not untill Lily and the others arrive." I waited for about five minutes I think when the cloth was removed. "Happy Birthday!" They all cheered. They had brought to me to my favourite spot on the courtyard near the Black Lake. Lily had brought a birthday cake that was frosted with (f/c) frosting. "Aw guys that's so sweet of you! You didn't need to do all this for me!" "Come off it (y/n/n)! You do this for us every year! You deserve it!" I smiled at them. How did I get so lucky?

"you deserve the world" Thank you soulmate I appreciate that. But that comment made my suspicion that my soulmate was one of the marauders stronger. I was determined to find out who it was.

Remus' pov

After we gave y/n her cake and gifts the girls dragged her to their dorm for some girl time and to get ready for her birthday party. When we returned to our dorm, I shut the door and sausy. "Guys. I have a problem." "What's up dear moony? " Sirius said. "I found my soulmate." I told them. "Finally! I guess they turned 16 recently. But why is it a problem." "It's y/n." Sirius smirked and James snickered. "So our darling star (your nickname cuz of your animagus being a wolf.) Is your soulmate. And that is a problem why?" "I can't date her. Im a monster what if she hates me?" James sighed. "Remus, if she hated you she wouldn't have become an animagus for you, she wouldn't hang out with us and she's have stopped talking to us a long time ago." "He's right you know, and besides y/n has a crush on you." Peter piped in. She likes me? Y/n likes me? I thought.

"woah there soulmate I don't even know you. You mustn't always listen to rumours." Oops I forgot she could hear my thoughts. Dang it. "Also soulmate please stop feeling 5 emotions at the same time because it's very confusing." Yep it was our sassy y/n alright. "Sorry." No reply. I started to get ready for the party. I dressed up in a simple shirt and pant. I read a book while waiting for the boys to get dressed. "Nice book. Whatcha reading?" Came her voice. "Little women. It's a great book." "I must read it one day then. Or maybe I can just hear you read it." I smiled at her. She was so sweet. "Yes I know I'm sweet." She commented sarcastically. I laughed and shook my head. "So soulmate when will I know who you are?" "You won't like me if you know me." "Don't be so pessimistic, you're just like my friend... REMUS? IS THIS YOU?" Shit shit shit "no it's not Remus." "I don't believe it. Remus, what are you so scared of?" "Look I'm not Remus and i dont have time for this right now. Goodbye."  How could i be so stupid? Before i could think anything else, the boys had gotten dressed and were ready to head downstairs. 

y/n was waiting in her gryffindor robes for Sirius at the portrait hole so he could go and get the required supplies while y/n did her prefect rounds. Luckily for me i didn’t have rounds today. I would have to deal with the consequences later. She saw me and looked like she wanted to say something but Sirius dragged her out saying that if it got too late they would get caught. She sighed and reluctantly followed him out. “Okay, what’s going on between you two?” “She figured out i was her soulmate and i got frantic and told her i wasn’t.” “Why would you do that?” “I don’t know, i got scared.” James just shook his head and patted my back before returning to charming the room to be soundproof and putting the decoration up. Not long after, the party had started. Sirius and y/n had returned. she went up to get dressed. She returned wearing the most beautiful (f/c) sundress and I think my heart just stopped.

"take a picture it will last longer" "what? I wasn't staring at you. I don't even know where you are." "Don't lie Remus we both know it's you." I didn't reply. The party started and it was loads of fun. Everyone was dancing and having a gala time, but I couldn't take my eyes off y/n. She danced with her friends and laughed with others. The party went on untill midnight when everyone retired to their respective dorms. I knew I was going to have to face y/n in the morning and I was scared. But I put my thoughts aside annd went to bed. I couldn't sleep much that night. I ended up waking up at 6 and decided to read in the common room. I sat by the fire side and started reading.

'I want to do something splendid...something heroic or wonderful that won't be forgotten after I'm dead.'

"I don't know what, but I'm on the watch for it and mean to astonish you all someday." Said a voice. One I know very well. Y/n. "I read the book you know, after you said that I was good. I finished it in a day." I avoided her eyes feeling embarassed. I felt betrayal wash over me. She was definitely hurt. "Why did you lie Remus? I thought we were friends?" "I'm sorry. I couldn't bring myself to believe that someone like you is my soulmate." "What do you mean?" The hurt in her eyes was replaced by concern. "You know what I am y/n. I can hurt you in so many ways. You deserve someone who will be able to take care of you. Someone who doesn't need to go running every full moon." "And yet we're soulmates. Remus, if we were not good for each other we wouldn't be soulmates." "You were the one who didn't like the soulmate system." "That was because my heart belonged to someone else, you. I had a crush on you since 4th year. I couldn't accept that maybe we were just destined to be friends." "I liked you since third year too." "Then why won't you just let me love you? I accept you Rem. If I didn't I wouldn't have become an animagus for you. I wouldn't be friends with you. I love you and I care for you. Accept that." She smiled at me and held my hand. I could feel all the adoration she had for me. "If you're sure." I told her and closed the gap between us. I could feel fireworks and my heart felt complete. All I felt was her lips moving against mine and how happy I felt. I pulled away and smiled at her. "I love you too."

Just as the words escaped my lips I heard wolf whistles and cheering in the background. "Our moony has finally grown up." Said James wiping a fame tear and sirius laughed. I looked at y/n and she hugged me. "Im still pissed at you for earlier but I can't stay mad at you for long can I?" I laughed and pecked her lips. I was finally happy.

*****

We were sitting in the common room a few moths later when James and Sirius ran inside yelling at each other. Lily sighing as she walked behind them. "Y/n your children are fighting again." Y/n glared at Lily and I snickered. She elbowed me hard. "Firstly I am not their mother during the school term. Secondly why are you two bickering again?" "You clearly act like it." Marlene muttered and y/n just ignored her. "James hexed snivellus and blamed it on me and now Minnie is behind my life!" "James! That was wrong. When will you ever act your age?" "See?" Marlene yelled. Once again she was ignored. Sirius and James kept bickering when all of a sudden sirius looked at me all seriously. "If y/n is our mother does that mean you are our father?" Marlene and James burst out laughing and y/n looked like she wanted to strangle Sirius. "SIRIUS BLACK FOR THE LAST TIME I AM NOT YOUR MOTHER IN SCHOOL!" The whole room fell silent for a few seconds before laughter filled it again. This time y/n joined in too. I love her. "I love you too you know." She turned around and winked and I felt my cheeks heat up.

Seventh year came and went by quickly. We were on our way home for the last time on the Hogwarts express. Everyone was discussing their future plans. I stayed silent. Who would employ a werewolf? Y/n literally sensing my discomfort came closer to me and held my hand. She shot me a small smile and I instantly felt better. I studied her profile and realised how much she meant to me. The train came to half. We walked out slowly taking in the feeling of the train. We stepped out of the carriage and hugged each other goodbye. "We must meet up often." Said James who had an arm wrapped around Lily's waist. (They were soulmates. Big shocker am I right?) Everyone nodded in agreement. Everyone started to walk away in their respective directions. I held y/n's hand and told her to wait a bit. She looked at me questioningly. "I've been thinking-" "uh oh." She snickered a bit. "The last time you were thinking you thought I would not want to be with you." I glared at her a bit and she suppressed her laughter. "Marry me." "What?" "You heard me. Let's get married. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you." I felt various emotions wash over me. Shock , fear, love and finally pity. "Remus I love you too but aren't we tok young? We just finished Hogwarts. I would love to marry you. Just, not yet." "Alright thats fine." She could tell I was hurt but made no comment.

A few days passed we barely spoke to each other. Suddenly out of the blue she aparated into my apartment. "Ok, let's do it. Let's get married." "Wait. Seriously?" "Yes." She pulled me in for a kiss. "I thought about it and I want to spend the rest of my life with you too." I was ecstatic! Over the moon! She laughed at my reaction and I fumbled to pull out my mother's ring. "This was mum's before she died. And I want you to have it." "Rem, this is so beautiful. Thankyou." "Let's go tell the others and your parents and my dad." She nodded. We told everyone and they were all happy for us. We got married a few months later in a small ceremony. We moved in together in a cosy apartment which we bought together. A few months after that Lily and James got married. Life was looking better for us. Lily was pregnant. Soon after that a dark lord called voldemort was on the rise. He was killing muggles and wizards alike. Everyone was terrified. On July 31 1980 Harry Potter was born. He was the ray of light in our dark lives.

All of us spent our time together savouring every minute. Then came the prophecy of the chosen one. The child born on the end of July who could kill the dark lord. He had decided that it was Harry and was out for his blood. Lily and James had to go into hiding. A fidelius charm was placed on both sirius and y/n. Only Sirius' name was disclosed. Then Peter was put under the charm as well. Then the dreaded happened. Voldemort had come to know about the Potter's hiding spot and killed them. Baby Harry was alive but lily and James were dead. Sirius was put in azkaban without trial although it was the rat Peter who gave out their location.

Y/n who had been studying to become a lawyer in the wizengamot fought for custody of Harry after he was placed under the care of his horrid aunt. After all, she had the right to do so as she was his godmother and the Potter's will stated that Harry was to be under her or Sirius' care. I saw her come home in tears after our best friends had died. She promised herself to avenge their death. It killed me to see her blaming herself so much. After a long year of her hard work, Harry's custody was finally passed onto us. I was so proud of my wife. The next thing y/n had to do was prove Sirius' innocence which was an easier task. She declared herself as the second secret keeper and after being put under verataseruim Sirius was declared an innocent man and Peter was being searched for. Things started to look up again. Y/n started to laugh again. She spent most of her time with Sirius (who temporarily moved in with us) Harry and me.

"Remus, do you want children?" She asked me one day out of the blue. "Ofcourse I do. But what if they inherit my lycanthropy?" "Then we'll love them as I love you." I hugged her tight. A few months later we got the news that y/n was expecting. I felt immense joy. I had never been happier. Harry was already 7 by then. He lived a happy life surrounded by people who love him. When he started Hogwarts he had a little god sister to look after. We named her Hope after my mother. She loved Harry and Harry loved her. She didn't inherit my lycanthropy which was a relief to me.

Everything seemed fine for many years until voldemort was on the rise again. We fought a battle once, we could do it again. With that thought in mind, y/n and I stood together, holding hands as the death eaters attacked the beautiful castle that I once called home. We stayed together the whole time. When I was duelling a death Eater another one came from behind me. He muttered a curse. "No!" Y/n called jumping in front of me taking the hit of the curse. She fell down on the ground with a deep gash on her chest. She started breathing heavily. "Remus.." "No no you can't die." I sobbed. "Im not worth dying for." "Oh darling, you are worth everything. Don't cry Rem, think of the good times. " "No" I sobbed. "Kiss me one last time, hug me one last time, tell me you love me one last time and tell Hope that she's my world." I sobbed but obliged. I hugged her and kissed her hard. Pouring out all my sadness into it. "I love you y/n. Always." "I love you too my love, always and forever..."

3rd person POV

Just as the words died in her lips, his world had ended. He felt a numbing silence wash over him as the reality of her death hit him. Everything felt around him felt like a blur because all that was left of his beloved was a beautiful dream.

[blucmoon]

━  ☾ ⊹  ( bang chan, cis male , he/him ) say hello to HWA YOHAN / CHANCE HWA, the TWENTY FOUR YEAR OLD that seems to have a lot in his hands with HIS job as a STREAMER AND CONTENT CREATOR! beyond that, they seemed RELIABLE AND PASSIONATE upon first glance. i heard someone say they’re sort of SELF-CONSCIOUS AND CAUTIOUS though. HE seems to live in a 2 BEDROOM APARTMENT in SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA. anything else to add? oh, yeah! he also USED TO BE A PROFESSIONAL GAMER PART OF SEOUL DYNASTY (OWL) UNTIL HE GOT KICKED OUT.

basic information

― full name: hwa yohan / chance hwa ― nicknames: yohwa ― age: twenty four ― date of birth: october 3rd, 1996 ― birthplace: cheonan, south korea. ―hometown: sydney, australia ― current location: seoul, south korea ― living arrangements: 2 bedroom apartment ― ethnicity: korean ― nationality: dual, korean (natural born) and australian (naturalized) ― gender: cis male ― pronouns: he / him ― orientation: demiromantic, heterosexual. ― religion: atheist ― occupation: streamer ― language(s) spoken: korean (fluent), english (fluent) ―accent: heavy australian accent

physical appearance

― faceclaim: bang chan / christopher bang of stray kids. ― hair: naturally brown, though he often dyes to a variety of colors, mostly black and blue. right now, it’s a purple color that’s already fading. ― eye colour: coffee brown ― height: 171cm ― weight: 56kg ― tattoos: none at the moment. ― piercings: lobe and upper lobe on both ears. anti-tragus, orbital and rook on the left one. double helix on the right one. ― clothing style: regularly techwear when he goes out and athleisure at home.

personality

― label: the cynical ― positive traits: attentive, dependable, reliable, passionate, brave, energetic, honest, humorous, clever, versatile, truthful, affectionate, sociable ― negative traits: self-conscious, cautious, opinionated, arrogant, detached, critical, tactless, stubborn, loud, quick-tempered, harsh, unfiltered, cynical, restless, ambitious, ― hobbies: baking, collecting enamel pins and funkos, jigsaw puzzles, skateboarding, reading, listening to music, curating playlists when he has time, learning origami. ― habits: obsessively organising, borrowing books and rarely ever returning them (he forgets who they belong to ok), really bad road rage, awful at keeping track of time, people watching, always wears a black ring on his left index finger, always hugs something when sleeping, gets easily impressed by things, quotes movies and shows in regular conversations, knuckle cracking, snacking between meals, eye rolling without noticing, squinting when concentrated, crossing his arms over his chest, running hands through his hair, slouching, rolling his shoulders. ― zodiac sign: sun libra, moon gemini, ascendant libra. ― mbti: infp-t “the mediator” ― enneagram: 8w7 “the nonconformist”. ― temperament: melancholic ― hogwarts house: ravenclaw ― moral alignment: chaotic neutral ― primary vice: greed ― primary virtue: diligence ― element: air

trivia:

― he’s played all kind of games and his twitch channel was created 9 years ago (whew) and it currently has over 5 million subscribers. currently, he streams mostly genshin impact, valorant, league of legends, overwatch, spider-man: miles morales, cyberpunk 2077 and the witcher iii. every now and then he makes charity streams. he also makes special lives with other gamers and figures where they play games like among us, minecraft, fortnite (though he absolutely hates it), party animals, fall guys and other party games.

― despite the rumours around him and his parents, he’s never talked about them to the media. it’s not like chance hides the information, after all it’s online, but he swerves questions about them and pretty much decides to not say anything about them just to avoid controversy. his parents didn’t mind until last year the company they worked at offered him a sponsorship and yohan turned it down. it’s safe to say they were pretty hurt over this and they haven’t talked much recently.

― yohan is, in his words, the biggest fan of spiderman (not really) but he’s his favorite heroe of all times and he collects everything and anything that has him in it. his biggest collection is funko pops with over 30+ figurines. he collects funkos of various other interests of him as well as enamel pins.

― lowkey a weeb. he likes watching anime in his spare time and if he likes it too much, he’d buy the manga and read it as well. his latest obsessions are kimetsu no yaiba, boku no hero academia, haikyu and jujutsu kaisen.

― won’t ever admit this out loud, but almost every ghibli movie makes him cry his eyes out, even when he’s watched the same one over and over again. he prefers to watch these on his own. his favorite one is grave of the fireflies.

― it took him a while to get used to korean culture, a part of him is still trying to. luckily, his family would speak in korean in their household most of the time and this helped him not struggle as much when it came to the language. his streams are most of the time in english to cater to a bigger audience, but recently he’s got himself a small team of an editor and a translator that’s helped him add subtitles to the videos he uploads in youtube.

― his current setup is completely sponsored except for a few extra things he’s bought himself and he has minimal experience when it comes to builds, though he’s really interested in learning and has recently researched more about the whole topic, hoping to get his first custom build by the end of the year.

― has terrible road rage and this is the reason why he doesn’t own a car or a driving license, even being in the backseat makes him anxious and would much rather prefer to use the bus, a bike or his skateboard to commute between places. taxis and other rides are his last option, if he’s quite honest.

― as a neighbour, he’s polite and tries to be mindful just to avoid needless problems. the first thing he did was soundproof his office in order to not disrupt others, but sometimes this doesn’t work as well due to how loud he can be. chance will try to greet every neighbour he encounters either with a wave or a simple nod.

― loves dogs but doesn’t feel he’s responsible enough to take care of one yet, though he will certainly volunteer to pet-sit his friends’ dogs.

background:

born in cheonan, south korea to two very affectionate parents and an older sister, yohan was the name given to the first boy of the hwa’s; a small loving family who moved to australia two years after his birth.

the reason for this is that his mom was promoted to become the director of a renowned gaming company that was opening its new headquarters in sydney. his father is a software engineer specialised in videogames development who works under the same company.

his sister is a graphic designer and she, too, is currently working with them in the multimedia and design area. she’s almost 7 years older than him and ever since they were kids, she took a protective role over yohan.

it was easy for yohan to get really invested in videogames from a young age, after all, his parents would often bring home their newest releases as well as games from other various companies (his father liked to play a lot as well and he himself was a fan of many games, mostly the nintendo classics).

fast forward to his teenage years; he was actually good at school, not the best, but definitely did good enough to not worry his parents with his grades. sports always piqued his interest. he was part of the basketball team and would use his skateboard often to get to school (which would earn him earfuls from the teachers saying how dangerous it was.) other than that, he was an active member in the gaming club (shocking, i know).

at 14 he got his first close up at what esports were like after participating in a tournament of counter strike, junior division. his team (which was made up by members from the gaming club) won and he got to watch matches from other divisions, only growing more and more fascinated about the whole thing. the idea of becoming a professional gamer didn’t seem so far fetched then.

around late 2011, the same year twitch started as what it is, yohan found the platform and immediately grew curious about it. it was fascinating to watch other people play, thus it didn’t take him long to start his own channel under the username “chance” right after he turned 15. it took him a while to find his own pace there, not quite sure of what to say or how to act. eventually, he saw that the less reserved and cautious he was, the more people watched and liked his stream, so from then on, he stopped worrying about what ifs and what people would think about him.

this is a double edged sword: as his popularity grows, he becomes more and more brutally honest and less mindful of the consequences his words and actions could have. whereas he quickly became one of the public’s favorites, he was also viewed as someone potentially problematic that could bring a bad reputation to the community, though this only seemed to be a prejudice from other gamers and public figures.

he doesn’t care, however, and chance was pretty dead set on keep doing his thing. he was also really active in tournaments, either small or big, and other teams would often reach out for him to fill in. he rarely ever turned down an opportunity and even though they didn’t always win, participating was more than enough for him to gain the favor of the audience.

when he was 18, a formal contract to be part of the chiefs esports club (a recently founded professional club with teams competing in counter-strike: global offensive and league of legends based in australia) was presented to him and of course he signed.

between his streams, which had become a tri-weekly kind of deal, and the “training” with his teammates the rest of the days, it was clear that yohan wasn’t in the slightest interested to pursue a higher education, and honestly his parents didn’t complain about it as he was already doing well on his own. nonetheless, his sister was concerned and pushed him to at least take a couple of online classes (which he did, but mostly to learn how to edit videos and understand audio aspects to improve the quality of his streams.)

around this time, nasty rumours about his parents buying his way into the club were spread which earned him the dislike of some of his teammates. it was the first time yohan ever encountered a situation like that but thanks to the management, he was able to move past that. the oceanic pro league was founded in 2015, a professional league of legends competition, and the chiefs esports club participated and won. this helped the rumours around him disperse for he proved his skills were what put him into the team. sadly, he left the club a year later.

for the next couple of years, he focused on his stream and growing his community. yohan was invited to different events, tournaments and other collaborations during this time and he was always excited for them. he even decided to create a youtube channel to upload highlights and vlogs.

then, the overwatch league was announced (chance quickly became addicted to this game and even reached top 500 in competitive) and he was contacted by the seoul team (seoul dynasty) to become part of their team for the inaugural season. like that, at 21, yohan packed his bags and moved to south korea.

between 2017 and 2019, he was part of the team as dps. he had to change his schedule yet again to stream only on the weekends and with some restrictions his contract established (like not talking about the team or the league live). some of his fans voiced their dislike for this new attitude of his, which yohan brushed with a roll of the eyes and a joke.

however, before the 2020 season started and the team was on break, chance was one day streaming and offhandedly said a comment about another player in the league which he had a match with. this caused a really big commotion online and several pro-gamers were rubbed the wrong way about his words (to this day, he still doesn’t know what was so wrong about calling out someone t-bagging him in a pro game) and his reputation was admittedly tarnished. the seoul dynasty’s management team decided that it was better to let him go.

that’s how last year, chance moved into his current apartment after looking online for a new place to live.

in the present, he streams 5 days a week a variety of games and his schedule varies, some days he goes live in the mornings and other days really late at night. he has a steady income from various sponsorships as well as the monetization of his youtube channel, which he updates twice a week.

[january-summers]

NotThatBad Continuation of the #notthatbad prompt fill by @swpromptsandasks Summary: Obi-Wan can take care of himself just fine, he's been doing it for years, during the Clone Wars, a rumour starts up that he doesn't eat or sleep. Obi-Wan and those close to him, begin to realise the rumour has a down side.

-

“Obi-Wan!” Quinlan Vos's voice carried down the Temple hallway, and Obi-Wan had to resist rolling his eyes, he could practically hear the grin in Quinlan's voice.

“Hello Vos,” Obi-Wan said drily as he slowed and turned to the other Jedi. He was right, Quinlan was grinning. The man caught up with Obi-Wan, one hand tucked suspiciously behind his back.

Quinlan's grin eased into a smirk, “is that any way to great someone who brought you a present?”

“Is it legal?” Obi-Wan shot back, having known Quinlan long enough to know better.

“That hurts Obi, cuts me real deep,” the hurt in his voice was fake, betrayed by the grin Quinlan couldn't quite hide. “Not sure you deserve your gift now.”

Obi-Wan's eyes narrowed, his suspicion growing, but the mischief in Quinlan's eyes was friendly, a hint of a familiar doting he hadn't seen in so long he'd almost forgotten what it looked like. So Obi-Wan gave a faint pout, and shifted so he could give Quinlan a coy look through his lashes.

“But I'm small and tired and deserve nice things,” Obi-Wan said, a line that was once a frequent occurrence in his vocabulary. One he hadn't said in years, not since Naboo, not since Anakin, not since he and Quinlan had agreed...

Quinlan snorted, his eyes darting over Obi-Wan's form at the memories, but his eyes fixed on Obi's face when he brought out the box he'd been hiding.

Curiosity, recognition, delight.

Who ever said Obi had a perfect sabacc face didn't know him very well.

“Sugared plums?” Obi-Wan took the box carefully, opening the lid to enjoy the sweet aroma of the preserved fruit. “Thank you Quinlan.”

“Nah, was in the neighbourhood, saw them and thought of you,” Quinlan snorted, “of course, with that rumour floating around, a lot of people are thinking of you, and not in the best way.”

Obi-Wan sighed, “I was afraid of that.” Obi-Wan closed the box, his brow furrowing, and he missed Quinlan's heavy frown as Obi-Wan put off eating one of his favourite treats.

“I mean, not that I mind an excuse to dote on you again,” Quinlan said with a shrug, “but I don't like what this rumour is doing for your image.”

Obi-Wan seemed to do a second take, tilting his head as he stared at Quinlan with a contemplative look.

“What?” Quinlan asked, and the air around them took on a weight of seriousness.

“Am I to take it then,” Obi-Wan asked slowly, “that you are not the one to start the rumour?”

Quinlan shook his head, “no, I'm not.”

The air pressed heavier for a moment, like the force was trying to call out in a muffled voice.

“But I'll look into it for you,” Quinlan promised, and the air eased.

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan said. He opened his mouth to say something else, the first syllable on his lips, when his comm. went of. “Yes?”

“General,” the voice of a clone responded, “the hover car is ready in hangar 3.”

“Thank you Cody, I'll be down shortly, I was... mildly delayed.”

“Yes sir,” the comm. chirped as Commander Cody, turned off his side of the link.

Quinlan felt a twinge of jealousy, and released it quickly into the force. But not fast enough apparently, Obi-Wan caught the frown on his face.

“I thought you liked Cody?”

Quinlan shrugged, “he's alright, for a clone. Very... competent.”

Obi-Wan frowned, then sighed, “I have a meeting at the rotunda, excuse me.”

“Yeah,” Quinlan watched Obi-Wan walk away, the box of sugar plums still closed in his hands. He let the force sink into him, ease the burn of jealousy that threatened to bloom. It wasn't entirely unfounded, Jango Fett had been a very attractive man, and Cody was a very competent commander.

And Obi-Wan liked competent men who could lift him with one arm.

But they'd agreed years ago...

Quinlan growled to himself and shook his head. He had the source of a rumour to track down.

-

Cody didn't particularly like the rotunda, the people changed their appearance so often, and they almost never looked at his brothers like they were people. There were a few who did, who spoke with his vode and tried to remember their names, to varying degrees of success.

Still, there was always a looming feeling that they weren't really welcome there, a sense of discomfort that Cody couldn't quite put his finger on.

The more he got to know his jetii, the more he could see the man felt uncomfortable here too. As they had walked together towards senator Organa's chambers, Kenobi had let out a small hum, the one Cody had come to learn meant 'I've noticed something and I don't like it, but it's not a problem just yet.'

Then Cody had caught the snatches of conversation, the senators and their aides in the halls, whispering and looking at his jetii.

'Don't you think he looks tired?'

It wasn't concern for Kenobi in their voices, it was judgement.

As the pair had approached the door to senator Organa's office, Cody had excused himself, confident in his jetii's ability to defend himself, and confident in the crimson marked vode who patrolled the halls.

“Is everything alright?” Kenobi had asked.

“Yes sir, I just need to check in with some brothers, nothing for you to worry over sir.”

Kenobi gave him a dubious look, but said "alright, I'll comm. you if you aren't back when I'm ready to leave."

“Understood, have fun with your meeting,” beneath his helmet Cody felt heat in his cheeks, but Kenobi had given him a wry grin, pleased by his boldness rather than annoyed. As they'd parted Cody had let himself smile in the safety of his buy-ce.

Kenobi had always welcomed their boldness, their reach for individuality. He hadn't even minded their presumption to feed him, had merely accepted their care, unneeded though it was. Sometimes Cody though his jetii might even understand what his acceptance of their care meant to them.

For them to not only have a jetii, but to have one who understood them...

Cody wasn't going to let a rumour turned foul damage his jetii's reputation, and while Cody didn't have the time to track the source down himself, he knew a vod who could do the job for him.

The door to the security room opened just before he reached it and he marched through, removing his helmet as his vode greeted him. He let a grin flicker across his face as Jun gave Beck a glare.

Beck gestured to the monitors which showed the hallway just outside the room, but Jun scowled.

“Just because you know who's at the door doesn't mean you open it,” Jun huffed before turning to Cody, “sir, what can we do for you?”

“I was looking for Tutti,” Cody said, and the vod in question looked over from his console, a cluster of small star tattoos marking a line under his left eye.

“Sir?”

“Tutti,” Cody's gaze fixed on him, “top scores in splicing and our psychological war fare unit,” Tutti nodded, not sure where the commander was going with this. “I need you to look into something for me.”

-

Palpatine sat back in his chair and watched as the senators before him squabbled. The topic of conversation was the same one that was making its way not only through the rotunda, but the general public: Obi-Wan Kenobi.

“We can't trust a man like that with our troops!”

“Yes we can!”

“If he can't even take care of himself-”

“It was a mistake to give so much military power to the Jedi, they can't handle it!”

Palpatine hid a grin behind his steepled fingers, enjoying the negative emotions that littered the air, and taking pleasure from the lost faith that was growing steadily throughout the republic.

He'd never liked Kenobi, or the man's ability to banish the darkness Sheev was trying to cultivate in young Skywalker.

This really had been his most brilliant plan yet, and yet it had been so simple. A word here, a word there, a few leaked pictures of Kenobi at his worst and now the republic he'd fought so hard to hold together would tear him apart.

If he'd been alone, Palpatine would have cackled.

“-Kenobi must be removed from power before he makes a mistake!”

Perhaps it was time for another 'secretarial mistake', another influx of incorrectly assigned paperwork finding its way to Kenobi would be the icing on today's cake.

-

Obi-Wan adjusted his robe as he let Bail's door close behind him, he used the motion to disguise another as he rolled his shoulders to release tension from the muscles. With the war, diplomacy often found itself being thrown out the window in favour of more aggressive tactics, so it was nice to use his training to help Bail with a small negotiation in which the biggest risk was stiff muscles from sitting too long.

“Sir,” Obi-Wan turned to the familiar voice to find Cody marching down the hallway.

“Excellent timing commander, I was just about to comm.” Cody dipped his head in acknowledgement. “Have you finish your business with your brother?”

“Yes sir, all taken care of,” there was a mild tension in Cody's shoulders that told Obi-Wan a different story.

“Good, shall we then?” Obi-Wan gestured down the hall and Cody nodded, falling into step with Obi-Wan as they returned to the car. Their driver for the day – a clone whose name was Blink if Obi-Wan was remembering correctly – was drumming a beat on the dashboard when the arrived.

“Not to bored I hope?” Obi-Wan said, startling the young clone.

“Sirs!” He scrambled out of the vehicle and opened the rear door.

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan said as he slid into the back seat, moving far enough over for Cody to join him. Cody followed, but only after looking at their driver for a long few seconds. Obi-Wan got the feeling Blink was being scolded, and from the blush on his uncovered face, Blink seemed to feel that way too.

“It's not a short trip back if you want to catch a nap, sir,” Cody said, his voice filtered through his helmet.

“Hm, not a bad idea,” Obi-Wan replied with a small smile, lifting his hood up and over his head, he settled into a more comfortable position. Cody was close to him, his armour hard against Obi-Wan's side, but the man himself was warm, his presence within the force was soothing to Obi-Wan's senses.

'Cody would speak up if he minded,' Obi-Wan thought as he let his head rest on the commander's shoulder.

-

Cody stayed as still as possible, signing for Blink to drive a little slower than necessary on his way back to the Temple.

Blink nodded, and not only drove a little slower, but a little more cautiously, making sure to rock the vehicle as little as possible.

Cody spent the trip resisting the urge to remove his bucket and lay his head against his jetii's. Kenobi was his commanding officer, and his jetii on top of that, he wouldn't appreciate it. Cody would just have to be content with this.

His gaze caught on their reflection in the vehicle's rear view mirror.

'I wish they could see him like this, like we do, they wouldn't doubt him then.' An idea occurred to Cody then, and he used his helmet to capture the image in the mirror.

'Perhaps they can see him as we do.' Moving carefully so that he didn't wake his jetii, Cody tapped out a message for the other commanders. He would speak to the 212th himself, if he could get them on board, that would be half the work done.