#....wait is this the secret lover he has on his boarding school days or is that just a random guy- | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tensmutdepot · 2 years ago

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Dedication (part 3)

Pairing: Ten Lee x fem/afab!reader

Genre: idol au, slow-ish burn, acquaintances to friends to lovers, major fluff, eventual and abundant smut (it'll be worth it, just stay with me)

Tags: incredibly self-indulgent; artistic liberty has been taken; some suspension of disbelief required; Ten drives; Ten has a secret island; Y/N has a tragic backstory because I don’t know how to write things that aren’t at least a little sad; cheesy metaphors; they’re in LOVE your honor

TW // mentions of suicide (if you want to skip over it, skip over the section of red text, and don’t worry, the story should still make sense to you)

Summary: Ten never misses an opportunity to see Y/N. And the more time he spends, the more he learns. The more he learns, the more he wants to learn. What will he do when he learns about Y/N's greatest trauma?

Word Count: 6.2k

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4

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

Ten became a somewhat permanent fixture in your life after that night.

He had texted you the following morning, the steady buzzing of your phone pulling you from sleep.

[Unknown number]: Hey you :)

[Unknown number]: Karina gave me your number

[Unknown number]: Do you have plans today?

[Unknown number]: Aside from school work

[Unknown number]: Cuz I wanna come over and bother you some more

[Unknown number]: If you’ll have me

[Unknown number]: But like no pressure

You smiled to yourself as you read the messages, the smile turning devious as you formulated your reply.

Me: Who is this?

You fought a laugh as you watched the three dots appear and disappear several times before he finally answered.

Ten: Mean

Ten: Very mean

You couldn’t fight the laugh then, sitting up in your bed, your mind now fully awake.

Me: I’m gonna be home all day today

Me: You can come over whenever

Me: But like no pressure :)

Ten: You’re so annoying

Ten: See you soon

He started coming over regularly, at least three or four times a week. He told you there was a lull in his current activities as an idol, something about his subunit being on somewhat of a hiatus, so he had more free time than usual. Sometimes he would text you beforehand, but other times he would just show up unannounced. Some days he’d drive himself, other days he’d get dropped off and picked up, but he was there as often as he could be.

The two of you would watch movies and binge TV shows and play board games. You’d eat dinner together and talk about the time you spent without each other, though those instances grew fewer and farther between.

You were about to graduate with a Bachelor’s degree in Creative Writing. Your focus was poetry, and you wanted to have your first chapbook completed and ready to be published as soon as possible, so you would sit in comfortable silence with Ten and work on writing while he played around with Procreate on his iPad.

You would play music for each other, and every once in a while, Ten would sing along or even show you choreography he’d come up with for a song he particularly liked. Those days were the hardest, convincing yourself you could be satisfied with appreciating him from afar and never experiencing his passion firsthand.

Ten never pushed you for more, though, seemingly content with the way things were between you. And he was. He was content just to hear you laugh, see you smile. He was content just to be near you. But there were moments. Moments where he’d catch you staring just a little too long, where your eyes would shine with something that made his blood flare with heat, the promise of what you might do if you weren’t so scared of the consequences. That promise made him patient.

A couple of months into your friendship with Ten, you were done with finals. The day you received your diploma, yours and Karina’s parents having taken you out for food after the ceremony to celebrate and now headed back to their own homes, you and your best friend gasped as you discovered a gorgeous and elaborate flower bouquet waiting for you outside your front door.

You picked it up and carried it inside as Karina unlocked and opened the door for you. Setting the ornate ceramic vase on your kitchen counter, you examined the fragrant cluster of blooms. There were yellow pansies, apple blossoms, honeysuckle, red tulips, and daisies. Amongst them, you found a note:

Y/N, Karina,

Congratulations!

We know you’re going to take this world by storm and can’t wait to support you every step of the way.

Sincerely, Ten & Yuno

P.S.

Y/N, flip the card over.

So you did.

Y/N,

Doubt thou the stars are fire Doubt that the sun doth move Doubt truth to be a liar But never doubt I am proud of you

Yours truly, Ten

You melted a little, your heart swelling in your chest at the sweet gesture. He’d referenced one of your favorite lines from Hamlet. It was disgustingly romantic of him, and you were seriously glad he hadn’t delivered the flowers in person because, at that moment, you don’t know what you might have been capable of.

Karina was still in awe of the flowers, so you caught her attention and showed her the front side of the note. She smiled and leaned against you, taking your hand. “I’m sorry Ten couldn’t be there today. I know you were missing him.”

You shrugged noncommittally, an attempt at acting casual, embarrassed of how important Ten already was to you in spite of the short time that you’d known him. Karina wasn’t fooled, but she let it go, conscious of your sensitivity on the matter. “I’m sorry Jaehyun couldn’t be there either. It would’ve been cool if the guy you graduated elementary school with could’ve been there to see you graduate from university.”

“Yeah, I’m just happy we’ve reconnected at all honestly.”

“I’m sure he’s happy about that, too,” you asserted. “I’m actually surprised Jaehyun doesn’t come over more often, Kay. But maybe his schedule’s just a lot busier than Ten’s.”

Karina looked at you like she couldn’t believe the words that had just come out of your mouth. “Y/N, Jaehyun is a really busy guy, but that’s not why he doesn’t come see me regularly. He doesn’t come see me regularly because he’s not allowed to.”

“What? What do you mean?” Your brow was creased with confusion.

She sighed, frustrated that she was the one having to explain this to you. “If they’re caught coming and going from the same place too often, they can get in serious trouble. Jaehyun and the others had to lie to their managers to even come to the party we threw. They’re not supposed to be here because, if the media somehow found out, it’d probably turn into a huge scandal and cause problems for the group. You know, male idols in their 20’s spending a bunch of time at the home of two female college students? Sadly, that’d cause quite a stir.”

Your stomach dropped. If that were true, then it meant Ten was at risk every time he was with you. You were furious that he hadn’t been transparent with you about this. The next time you saw him, you would need to confront him about it.

You and Karina moved on from the topic and spent the rest of that night celebrating, popping open a bottle of champagne you’d saved for the occasion and drinking to all the hard work you’d put in over the past few years.

The next day, Ten showed up to celebrate with you in his own way. You were sitting on your bed in your room, leaned up against your headboard, watching Netflix together and sharing snacks, when you decided to broach the subject.

“Ten, are you… allowed to be here right now?” you asked.

He froze like he’d been caught with his hand in a cookie jar. His reaction told you that your ignorance on the matter had been a concerted effort on his part, that he’d hoped this conversation would never have to happen. But now it was. “Not necessarily,” he answered quietly, not quite meeting your eyes.

You held in your anger, genuinely wanting to understand what he was thinking. “Then why are you?”

This answer came much more quickly. “I like spending time with you.”

You gaped at him, your frustration boiling to the surface. “Are you kidding? Ten, if your managers found out you were spending all this time with me, you could face real consequences.”

“Okay, I really like spending time with you,” he shot back with mirth.

“This isn’t funny, Ten.”

“No, no, I know it’s not—”

“Do you know how terrible I would feel? If something bad happened to you because of me? I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.” You were breathing too quickly, anxiety building, and it destroyed Ten. This was exactly what he’d wanted to avoid. He reached out and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“Hey, listen to me. If I got caught and something happened, that would be my fault, okay? I’m a grown man. I make my own choices, and you are not responsible for them. I know what I’m risking by being here.”

But that wasn’t good enough for you. “And what about the others? Your members? They have a stake in this, too, Ten.”

He huffed, a little disappointed that you thought he hadn’t considered that. “I’m aware of that, Y/N. I’m not doing this behind their backs. They all know about it. We’ve talked about it, and they trust me. They understand why it’s so important to me.”

“Well, I don’t understand, Ten!”

“You don’t have to!” he fumed.

This was the first time you and Ten had truly argued, had even slightly raised your voices at each other. The silence that followed was agonizing as you stared into each other’s eyes, chests heaving. You weren’t certain how long the two of you sat there like that, but eventually, Ten closed his eyes and leaned his head back, exhausted.

“Look, Y/N, you can kick me out of here if you want. This is your home, and I can’t force you to let me stay.” He lifted his head and gazed at you again, desperation gleaming in his eyes. “But if you make me leave, then it needs to be because you want me to, not because you’re worried about something that isn’t your responsibility. You’ve always treated me like a normal person. Please, don’t stop now. Just let me be an adult who’s allowed to have his own priorities and make his own decisions about how he spends his time.”

You let his words sink in. All of them. Was he right? Did it matter if you couldn’t understand why he was willing to risk his career just to spend time with you? Maybe you didn’t need to. Maybe some things didn’t have to make sense. Maybe all that really mattered was that being with Ten felt good. Maybe it wasn’t your job to decide what was best for him. “Fine,” you breathed.

He whipped his head toward you in shock. “Wait, really? You’ll let me stay?”

You rolled your eyes affectionately. “Yes, Ten, you can stay.”

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

The next couple of weeks following your confrontation with Ten were perfect. You were the happiest you’d been in a remarkably long time. But it didn’t keep the rest of your life from catching up with you.

Ten hadn’t heard from you all day. He wasn’t worried, per se, but it was out of the ordinary for him to go this long without hearing from you. His gut told him he needed to check in on you. But rather than blowing up your phone in hopes you might eventually respond, he decided to pay you a visit.

He knocked on your door and waited for you to open it, but he was greeted by Karina instead.

“Hey, Ten.”

When he saw the look in Karina��s eyes, his face fell. Something was wrong. “What’s going on, Kay?”

She worried her lip between her teeth, obviously considering whether or not she wanted to tell him. After a moment, she sighed wearily and said, “Today’s not a good day. I know you’re here for Y/N, but she’s… dealing with something.”

As if on cue, Ten heard the faint sound of you crying coming from upstairs. His chest tightened with anxiety, and he felt himself start to panic. “Please, let me see her.”

“Ten, you really don’t understand, she—”

“If she doesn’t want me here, she can send me away,” he implored. “I just want to help.”

Karina scrubbed her hand over her face, exhausted. Then she opened the door so that he could come inside. “Try to give her the time and space to come to you, okay? If anyone can make her feel better, I’m sure it’s you, but she’s hurting right now.”

He nodded in understanding and started up the stairs, moving quickly but quietly. The sounds of you sobbing grew louder the closer he got, and it gutted him. When he got to your bedroom door, he carefully pushed it open, just enough for him to slip through. You were lying on your bed, curled into a ball, clutching and crying into your pillow.

Ten’s heart stopped. You were wearing his sweatshirt again.

His voice trembled as he softly said your name, doing his best not to startle you. You jumped, sitting up straight and hugging your pillow to your chest, as if it would protect you from whoever or whatever had entered your room uninvited.

When you realized who it was, though, you weren’t sure what to feel. Part of you was filled with dread because you never wanted him to see you like this. But another part of you, a much larger part, was relieved. Relieved because, for some insane reason, he was the one person you wanted to see.

He gave you a small smile and cautiously walked toward your bedside, like he was afraid you might run off if he made any sudden movements. “Hey, sweetheart.” His voice was fresh air, cool water on a hot day. It soothed you.

“What are y-you doing h-here?” You hiccuped every few seconds, your lungs recovering from hyperventilation.

It was hard for Ten to see you like this. Tears streaked your cheeks, your eyes were puffy and swollen, you couldn’t stop sniffling, your bottom lip and chin were still wobbling, and your hands were shaking. He hated that he knew you were in pain and had no idea how to fix it. He would spare you any pain if he were able. “I was just coming by to see you like usual, and Karina tried to turn me away. But… but I heard you crying, and I couldn’t leave without checking on you, so I convinced her to let me in. You don’t have to explain anything to me or talk to me at all if you don’t want to, and if you tell me to leave, I will. But I don’t think you should be alone right now.”

His heart was the most beautiful you’d ever known. He was a fountain of kindness and compassion. He somehow managed to consider your pain and acknowledge your independence all at once. He offered you comfort, and whether or not you accepted it was entirely up to you. He didn’t put any pressure on you, didn’t expect anything from you. He just wanted you to know that he was there if you needed him. You were too drained to overthink it, too broken down to lie to him or yourself. So you looked him in the eye and said, “I d-don’t want you to leave.”

“Then I won’t,” he vowed, and it felt more significant than either of you were ready to acknowledge.

You sat there in quiet as your breathing calmed. After some time, you started to feel uncomfortable, unsure how to proceed. You didn’t want to start crying again, but despair was already creeping back in, saturating your heart and clouding your mind.

Ten sat down next to you, sensing your distress, and took one of your hands in both of his. “Can I take you somewhere?” he asked, kneading the muscles in your palm, relaxing you.

“Take me somewhere? Do you see me right now?”

He rolled his eyes and dropped your hand. Immediately, you missed his touch. “You look beautiful. You always look beautiful. But it doesn’t matter anyway because where I’m taking you is a secret place that only I know about. It’ll just be you and I. No one else.”

Your heart leapt at the prospect. You definitely didn’t have the energy to deal with people right now, but you thought you could handle some time out with Ten. Maybe the distraction would do you some good, get your mind off things. Standing up, you stretched your arms out above you and popped your knuckles. Then you bent over and gathered your hair on top of your head, wrapping it up with the hair tie on your wrist. “Okay,” you told him, popping back up. “Let’s go.”

He actually giggled at you, tickled by your inelegance. Only you could make gracelessness so charming. He stood up to lead you out, but before he did, he walked up to you and brought his hands to your face, swiping his thumbs under your eyes to wipe away any leftover tears. It was unbearably tender.

You dropped your gaze to the floor. “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” he replied. “Now, come on.”

The two of you walked down the stairs together, and when you reached the bottom, Karina came around the banister to meet you. “Where are you going?”

You turned to her. “Ten said there’s somewhere he wants to take me, so I’m entertaining him.”

Karina smiled at you, but her brow was creased with concern. “Are you sure, bug? You don’t have to go if you don’t feel up to it.” The use of your childhood nickname made your heart clench.

Ten wasn’t offended by Karina’s apprehension. He appreciated that she loved you enough to stand up for you, that she wasn’t afraid of challenging other people if it meant caring for you. He would do the same in her place. If you’d suddenly admitted to her that you didn’t want to go with him, he would’ve been fine with that. But you didn’t. You just smiled at your best friend and said, “I’m sure, ducky. I’ll text you when we get there and let you know when I’m on my way home, okay?”

“Okay.” She wrapped you in a hug and kissed your cheek. “I love you.”

You almost lost it then, the thread holding you together worn so thin.

Ten noticed. He could see it in the set of your shoulders, the tension in your jaw. He could tell that you weren’t being open about your emotional or mental state, not with him or with Karina. And he knew it was because you wanted to spare their feelings. You didn’t want to burden them. He wanted you to understand that he was happy to share your burdens, to shoulder the weight when you weren’t strong enough.

You held Karina tight and returned her kiss. “I love you, too. So, so much.”

Parting, you made your way to the door with Ten, but before you closed the door she called out to him, “Take care of her!”

He leaned back inside. “Always.” And then he took your hand and walked you to his car.

Neither of you spoke as Ten drove. You just stared out the window, watching the scenery, sometimes seeing a flock of birds and wishing you could fly away with them, become something new. He could feel the despondence radiating off of you in waves. He held the steering wheel a little tighter.

“We’re here.” Pulling off onto a patch of gravel, he parked. He got out of the car and opened the door for you. You weren’t sure how long you’d been in the car, but you didn’t recognize this place, wherever it was. You could see the river, though, feel its breeze kissing the skin of your neck, refreshing on this summer day.

Ten started walking toward a path that led off the road and into the woods. The path was faint, hard to find if you didn’t know where to look. Luckily, he did. You followed after him, neither one of you saying a word, until you reached a clearing that led to a small dock on the riverside.

There was a motorboat tied to the dock, and Ten walked straight to it. He reached for the two life vests inside and wordlessly slipped one over your head, fastening the sides and tightening the straps to fit you properly. After putting his own life vest on, he stepped onto the boat, then offered his hand to help you do the same.

You sat and observed as he yanked on the pull cord of the motor, trying your best not to notice the way his arm and shoulder muscles flexed under the fabric of his shirt. You failed. The motor whirred to life, and Ten gripped the handle, steering it out onto the river and in the direction of whatever destination he had in mind for you.

Next thing you knew, you were coming up on what was probably the smallest island you’d ever seen, only a short ways off the river’s edge. You gasped in delight. Ten smiled at the sweet sound.

After docking the boat, Ten helped you onto land. You both took off your life vests and tossed them back into the boat. He walked backwards, his arms stretched wide. “Welcome to Isle Ten,” he said brightly. You could see how excited he was to share this with you. It warmed your heart.

The islet was maybe a few hundred square feet, soft sand surrounding a large patch of grass in the center of it all. “What is this place?” you asked, the awe apparent in your voice.

“It used to belong to one of my neighbors, an older man, who used to bring his wife here when they were younger. After she passed away, he decided he didn’t want it anymore. I happened to visit him a few days after his wife’s passing, just to see how he was doing, see if he needed anything. He sat me down and started telling me stories about his wife. He told me all about this place, about the trips he used to take with her. I made a comment about how amazing it sounded, and he said, ‘If you think so, why don’t you just take it off my hands?’ It took some convincing on his part, but eventually, I agreed, and he signed the deed over to me. I rent the dock and come here whenever I want to be alone.”

“Wow.” You walked to the patch of grass and looked around, taking in the view of the river surrounding you, the huge, open sky above you. You took in the quiet, nothing but the sounds of the flowing water and the wind passing through the blades of grass. “I love it,” you whispered, more to yourself than anything, but Ten heard you.

“Well, now it’s yours, too,” he said.

Before you could protest, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you to the middle of the grass. He laid down on his back and patted the ground next to him. You huffed and laid down at his side. The two of you sat there in silence for a short while, until you grew antsy and couldn’t take it anymore. “So, is this what you usually do when you come here? Just lay around?”

He shrugged. “Sometimes. But other times I’ll bring my sketch pad and draw, or I’ll bring my guitar and my notepad, try to write some music. It’s just easier to clear my mind here. I can pretend the rest of the world doesn’t exist and just be.”

You sighed wistfully. “That sounds nice.”

“I was thinking you could come here when you need some solitude to work on your chapbook.”

It was the most thoughtful gift anyone had ever given you, and you had no idea how to thank him, to tell him just how much it meant to you. At the very least, you could tell him the truth about why this day is so hard for you. Sitting up and balancing your forearms on your knees, you cleared your throat.

Ten didn’t move from his spot, but you knew he was listening, knew that you had his attention.

“I had a brother,” you began. He took note of the past tense in your statement and prepared himself for how this story may end. “He was a few years younger than me, almost exactly. Our birthdays were only a couple of days apart. We even used to have combined birthday parties growing up. Most siblings would probably hate that, would hate having to share their special day with someone else, but he and I loved it. We loved it because we loved each other, you know? We were best friends.

“But as we grew older and made new friends, we also grew apart, started to develop very different interests. I met Karina, and we were nearly attached at the hip. When my brother started high school, I was a senior. I should’ve looked out for him. It was my responsibility as his sister, but I only cared about myself, only cared about having the best senior year ever and spending as much time as possible with my friends before we all graduated.

“He fell in with the wrong crowd, got into drinking and drugs. But he was only trying to numb his pain. He had always struggled with depression. There would be days where he just couldn’t get out of bed, other days where he would fly off the handle for what seemed like no reason. The signs were there. I just didn’t pay enough attention.

“He got lost in himself. Between the substance abuse and the mental illness, his mind became a dark, dangerous place. When I did happen to see him at home or at school, I didn’t even recognize him. And still I did nothing. He was suffering, anyone could see that if they really looked at him, but no one did. Not even me. The person who knew him best. The person who was supposed to take care of him.

“I was at a party, a couple months after the school year ended, celebrating graduation, proud that I’d been accepted into the university I wanted, happy to be done with high school. My phone rang, and I almost didn’t answer it. But my parents were out of town, and my brother had the house to himself, so when I saw his number pop up, I wanted to make sure he hadn’t burned the house down or something. I didn’t expect…”

Your hands started to shake as you ran them over the back of your neck. You took deep breaths to keep yourself from crying. It had been years since you told anyone about this. It was so hard to say it out loud. But you needed to.

“I’ll never forget the way his voice sounded when I picked up the phone. He didn’t say hello, didn’t say my name. He just asked me, ‘Am I supposed to be here?’ He sounded wasted, high, but more than anything, he sounded tired. So tired. I didn’t know what his question meant, I assumed he was having a bad trip and had forgotten where he was, something like that, but…

“I told him I didn’t understand, so he went on. He said, ‘Here, you know, alive. Am I supposed to be alive? It feels like I’m not. I’m not any good at it, being alive.’ I can still hear him so clearly, remember it so vividly. I immediately started to panic and told my friends at the party to call the police and send them to my house.

“I tried to just keep him on the line, keep him talking. I talked about anything, everything. I asked him to tell me about the video game he’d started playing recently. I asked him if he could remember the lyrics to his favorite song. But it was like he couldn’t even hear me. He knew he was talking to me, though, because he kept apologizing.

“He kept telling me he was sorry for always being in the way, always causing problems. I tried to tell him that I… that even when I was upset with him or something he did, I still loved him. I said it over and over, how much I loved him. And he told me he believed me. But he said that he knew he wasn’t easy to love, that if he wasn’t around, no one would have to worry about loving him anymore, and everyone would be better off, happier.”

Your head fell against your arms as you started to sob, but you kept going.

“One of my friends told me the police were on their way. I told my brother that people were coming to help him. I shouldn’t have. I was so stupid. He started to freak out. I could hear him moving around our house, and I begged him to just sit down and talk to me. I said everything would be fine if he just waited a bit longer, but he told me he couldn’t wait anymore, he was sick of waiting. He said he’d been waiting to feel happy for so long that he didn’t know what happy even was anymore.

“He was fifteen. How could he think something like that? How could I have been so blind to what he was going through? I didn’t know what to say to him. I promised I would help him learn to be happy again. I told him we would figure it out together. And for a moment, I thought I’d gotten through to him because he started to agree with me. He kept saying, ‘Yeah, that sounds good.’ But then I heard him rummaging around inside something. And I heard the sound of something heavy and metal hitting the floor. And I heard the sound of a box being opened, its contents clattering on the floor.

“And I knew. I knew that I was going to lose him. He put me on speaker while he loaded the shells into our dad’s shotgun. By this point, I was on the ground, sobbing into the phone while my friends watched on helplessly. I said I loved him so many times. I asked him not to leave me. It was all wrong, I did everything wrong. I did everything you’re not supposed to do in that situation.

“I wailed and wailed until I heard him call out to me. I kept myself quiet as best I could so that I could hear him. It was silent for a bit, just him breathing. And I never realized until that moment just how much I’d taken that for granted, you know? Him breathing. But then he said, ‘It’ll be okay.’ And the gun went off.

“Everything’s… sort of a blur after that. I didn’t leave my room for weeks. I wouldn’t talk to anyone. Not my mom, not my dad, not even Karina. I didn’t want to go on with my life because that meant accepting that he was gone. Then one day, my mom came into my room with a box. She told me she'd found it in my brother’s room. It was labeled, ‘Important Stuff.’ She said I should take a look inside and walked out.

“At first, I wanted to chuck it against the wall. But something stopped me. I ignored it for a while, just letting it sit there at the foot of my bed, but eventually I sat up and pulled it into my lap. And when I opened it, everything inside was just… him and I. The shitty friendship bracelets we made when I was eight. Mixed CD’s we’d put together and decorated with sharpies when I was in junior high. A bunch of stuff like that.

“I figured it was an old box, something he’d thrown this stuff in and shoved inside his closet, never to be thought of again. But then I noticed there was something recent in the box. It was the graded copy of a short story I’d written in my English class that year. It was written from the perspective of a caterpillar as it turned into a butterfly, but as the story goes on, you slowly realize that the caterpillar is actually a human growing into an adult. My teacher had asked us to write something about the inevitability of change.

“It was the cheesiest thing, but my brother was so proud of it. So proud of me. When I brought it home, a big red 100% written on the top of the first page, he asked me if he could keep it. I said yes, not thinking anything of it, and he absolutely beamed at me. It was one of the only good days we had together that year. In the box, he’d attached a sticky note to the front that said, ‘Y/N, For when you’re a famous writer and feel like giving up: Remember where you started. Remember why you started.’

“Amazing, right? He’d given me the best advice for moving on after his death without even meaning to. He reminded me that change is inevitable. A caterpillar will go through metamorphosis. It doesn’t get to choose. My brother died. It changed who I was, changed who I could become, changed the whole trajectory of my future. I couldn’t go back to the person I was before I’d lost him anymore than I could stop the sun from setting, stop the seasons from changing, stop the world from turning.

“I needed to lean into that change, otherwise I would end up just like my brother, so numb that it made more sense to not feel at all. Those few weeks holed up in my room ended up being my time in the cocoon. The day my mom brought me the box, I cleaned myself up and went online to declare myself as a Creative Writing major at my dream university. I hadn’t really known what I wanted to do before that. And now here I am.

“I still have bad days. This day is hard every year because I can’t help but relive those last moments with him. But there are other days, too. Days where I blame myself. Days where I’m angry at him. Days where I’m angry at my parents. Days where everything seems pointless. Until I remember what he taught me. I’m a butterfly. I pick up pollen as I go through different experiences, some good, some bad, some that seem completely inconsequential. But as I go about my life, I transfer that pollen through my interactions with other people. I transfer it through my writing. And as I do, I encourage others, the flowers of this world, to blossom, to reach their full potential. It’s not easy. Life isn’t easy. But it’s worth it if I leave this world a little more colorful, a little more beautiful than it was before.”

You weren’t sure when you’d stopped crying, but you had. You felt better, lighter. This was the first time you’d ever talked to anyone about this who didn’t already know, who wasn’t a part of your life when it happened. This was the first time you’d ever really talked through it from start to finish.

Ten had been silent the entire time. About halfway through, when you were at the worst of it, he’d sat up, his hand reaching out to comfort you but stopping. He wanted you to let it all out. Any attempts to comfort you might disrupt that. He could tell he’d made the right choice as he watched you breathe freely for the first time since he’d walked into your room that day.

“Y/N,” he said, lightly tapping your elbow. You turned to look at him, your cheek leaning against your arm. “Thank you for telling me.”

You smiled at him fondly. “Thank you for listening.”

The two of you ended up staying on the island for a while after that, challenging each other to thumb wars, playing rock paper scissors and twenty questions, even swapping ghost stories. It was late by the time you got back, Karina long since gone to bed, although you had texted her to let her know you were safe and not to wait up. You stood in the doorway gazing at Ten, knowing that something had shifted between you but unwilling to address it.

“Get some rest, Y/N. I’ll see you soon.”

“You promise?”

He smirked and lifted his pinky in the air. “I pinky promise.”

You giggled and hooked your pinky onto his. “Good night, Ten.”

He turned and started to leave. As you watched his retreating form, you realized that something had been missing. You caught up to him and grabbed his arm, twisting him back towards you, then wrapped your arms tight around his waist and buried your face in his chest.

Ten froze for a moment until he figured out what was happening. You were hugging him. He instantly put his arms around your shoulders, one of his hands coming up to cradle the back of your head. You stood there and held him for a long time, just breathing him in. When you finally decided to let go, you avoided his eyes, too afraid that you might do something even more stupid this time, like trying to kiss him.

“Drive safe,” you whispered. Then you turned and practically ran into the house, closing the door behind you.

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

A/N: Whew, sorry for bringing the mood down for a minute there, but if you made it this far, I hope you're excited for the next part! The next part is when the tension finally breaks and the smut begins, so I'll try to get it posted sooner rather than later! As always, my inbox is open, so feel free to share your thoughts with me :)

152 notes · View notes

missnxthingg · 3 months ago

Text

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄, 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃 - 𝑇𝑊𝑂

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 - Lando Norris x Single Mom!Reader (Best friends to lovers) 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 - Lando and Y/N have always been the best of friends, always there for each other through thick and thin. After years of sharing the paddock and building their own silly little family, both of them just can't hold their feelings inside anymore, even though they're are both afraid it would ruin their friendship. So who'll take the first step? 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 - 5.9 K | 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 - A few swearing and mentions of sex 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 - All chapters come with a social media version. Click bellow and find more about this story!

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“Have you gone completely mad?”, Y/N asked Lando, who had been annoyingly wiggling his feet as he sat on her table at the MTC. They had been working together all afternoon, doing interviews and content for social media, and were just now having a break as she organized their schedule for the week.

“Why? Because I want you to take a break and have a nice time with me in Australia?”

“Lando, I’m a mother. I can’t leave Ollie for one week and a half”, she said matter-of-factly to him. “She has school and I have to be here for her. I’m just going for the race and that’s it”.

“You should bring her as well”, he suggested. “Max is coming, and we can all explore the city together until we have to work again. I already made sure they extended my stay at the hotel and booked an extra room. Max can stay with me, and you can stay in another room with Ollie”.

“I can’t do that to her. She has school, you know?”

“She’s three years old. It’s not a big deal if she misses a few days of school”, he tried, earning a death glare from Y/N. “Come on, pretty please! She really wants to come to a race, and I know you’ve been stressed with work and family lately. I just wanted us to have a good time together”.

“I have to think about it”, she replied. “Also, talking about you pampering us, have you been stealing our bills and paying for them in secret?”

Lando widened his eyes and he quickly left the tabled with a blush on his cheeks. “Maybe”, he shrugged, making Y/N laugh with his exit.

“I told you not to do that!”, she scolded. “I can pay for my own bills. I have a job, Lando, with a good pay cheque. Thanks to you”.

“Well, but I can pay for them, and I want to help you out”, he explained. “You’re my best friend, and I’m rich. I want you to take your money and just care about yourself and my goddaughter”.

“People are going to think I’m only friends with you for the money”, she crossed her arms, making Lando smirk.

“Well, I know the truth. And nobody needs to know about this”, he poked her nose before pulling her for a hug. “Let me pay for your bills and take my girls out for a family holiday”.

“You’re insufferable”, she complained, but felt her heart warm with him caring so much about them. “Maybe I will accept the trip and drain the money from your account”.

“If that’s what it takes…”

Y/N ended up accepting his offer, and when Olivia found they were going for a family holiday and attending a race, she was beyond thrilled. That would be her first time outside the country, and most importantly, her first time at a Formula 1 race. The little girl has been begging to go to one with her mother and uncle, but only got to join them after a lot of whining. She was so happy that Lando even made sure to get her a McLaren shirt to cheer for him at the grand prix.

At the morning they were supposed to fly, she woke Y/N up before her alarm, holding her pretty pink suitcase, ready to go. Then she would stop blabbering about the trip as they drove together in Lando’s car to the airport, where they were meeting their friend, Max Fewtrell, before boarding.

“Uncle Max!”, Olivia cheered to see her other favourite uncle approach them at the airport. Max arrived a few minutes earlier and was waiting for everyone at the lobby. He picked little Ollie from the floor and twirled her around, making her giggle.

“Hey there, Ollie. How are you? Excited to see your first race?”

“Yes! Very excited”, she smiled at him. “Uncle Lando even got me a McLaren shirt with his name!”

“Really? That’s so cool!”, Max cheered, glancing at his friends, who were watching their little interaction from the side.

“By the way, the jet is waiting for us”, Lando said, making Y/N frown. “Didn’t I tell you? I booked us a private jet. Someone owned me a favour”.

“I can’t believe it!”, Y/N laughed. “You bastard. You always do this! Always go over the top with your ‘little treats’, uhm?”

“Shut up and just enjoy it”, he nudged her away before taking his bags along with Ollie’s.

Max carried the little girl to the car that would drive them to the private jet, and Y/N followed the trio with her own bags, enjoying the help from her friends with the parenting part. Even though she was a single mom, she knew she was never alone while taking care of her child.

Lando had booked a classic, yet fancy, jet to fly to Australia. He buckled little Ollie’s belt for the take-off, but she grew uncomfortable and unquiet once they were stable in the air. So he took her from his seat and pulled her to his lap, where they played in his iPad together. Y/N took that time to sit back, sip on some champagne, sometimes catching up with Max, who she hadn’t seen since the beginning of February. But soon her friend was asleep too, so the only thing left for her to do was observe her daughter and her uncle together.

Olivia was yawning in Lando’s lap, battling to keep her eyes opened as they watched some cartoon together. She soon gave up and cuddled into Norris’ chest to nap, snoring softly in the safeness of her favourite uncle’s hold. And he was very well enjoying that moment himself, closing his eyes and pressing kisses to the top of her head as his fingers ran softly through her hair.

Y/N thought back to the first time Lando held Olivia in his arms. The baby girl had just got dressed for the first time by the nurses, who offered him to hold the baby, thinking he was her father. Norris hesitated, thinking that would be stepping too further into their lives, but she encouraged him to meet her daughter. After all, he had been there through her entire pregnancy, always showing his excitement for when Olivia arrived.

“I know you’re dying to meet her too”, she mumbled, making him nod, even though he was scared of holding the baby. But he was brave enough to do it.

Lando carefully took Olivia from the nurse’s hold and gasped when he felt his skin touching the little baby’s one. Then he brought her close to his chest and leaned back into his seat, admiring her calm face so close to him. His eyes welled up with tears, feeling the electricity course through his veins. Norris had a strong connection with his goddaughter the first time he held her.

“Hello, baby”, he whispered. “I’m your uncle Lando. It’s so nice to finally meet you. I’ve been dying to get to know you. We’re gonna have the best time together”.

And silently, as he pressed a kiss to her forehead, he vowed that he would always be there for anything she wanted. He fell in love with Ollie as if she was his own daughter.

Y/N knew that because she knew him better than anyone. She knows he loves her daughter because she can see it in his eyes, his actions, in everything he does for her. Yes, he could just live on with his life and not give a fuck about someone else’s daughter, but Lando chose to always make sure he’s present in her life as if he was her father. He’s done more than her actual father ever did.

“C’mere”, Lando called, taking Y/N out of her own thoughts while keeping his voice low to not wake anyone up. Y/N unbuckled her seat belt to sit in the booth next to him, then she rested her head on his shoulder, getting closer to the two people she loved the most in the world. “Are you happy?”

“Very”, she assured, making him smile widely.

“Then I’m happy too”, he carefully placed a kiss on top of her head. “I have my family here with me. I couldn’t be happier”.

“You know she loves you like a father, don’t you?”, Y/N asked, knowing that sometimes Lando also needs words of reassurance since he always second doubts himself. And that definitely was everything he needed to hear at that moment.

For the past few days, he found himself going back to the thought of raising a family with Y/N, wanting to have kids with her someday, when he finally had the courage to confess his feelings for her. But then he realized that he already had a family with her, knowing that he saw Olivia as his own daughter. He just wasn’t sure if that family bond was mutual. Now he has the assurance.

“I love her like a daughter too”, he affirmed. “I know I’m not always here all the time, but if you or her ever need me for anything, I’ll be here in a heartbeat”.

Lando has been living in Monaco for a few years now, but he finds himself coming back more to London than to Monte Carlo, just because he felt like he had a compromise with the L/N family. If he took too long to come see them, he would blame himself for being a bad friend and a bad uncle. The remorse was almost torture to him.

“We’ll be here for you too”, she replied, knowing that this thing doesn’t need to be one-sided. They would take care of him as well, because they loved him.

Lando needed some family time to power up for the weekend. The first two races of the year have been great for McLaren, but he still wasn’t so confident about his performance. Being with his family, in the safest environment, made Lando less anxious with his work.

“I’m glad you’re here”, Lando said. “And I bet she’s going to love Australia. They have so many cool things to see”.

“She’ll love being spoiled by her favourite uncles and getting all the treats she wants”, Y/N giggled. “Max is going to have a sore back from carrying her everywhere”.

“As he should”, Lando laughed. “And I was thinking that maybe we could use him for one night, go on a dinner just you and me. I think you deserve a break from the motherhood too”.

“Lando Norris, are you asking me on a date?”, she frowned, making him blush.

“If you want it to be a date”, he shrugged. “I think you very much need one. When was the last time you’ve been on a date?”

“How old is Ollie again?”, she asked, making his eyes widen. “Oh, please. You’re just shocked because you’re not a dad. But when you have a kid, dating doesn’t seem as important”.

“But I thought that engineer from Ferrari had asked you out that one time. You never actually went on that date with him?”, Lando frowned, and Y/N shook her head. “Or that one guy from the club on my birthday. I thought you had gone home with him”.

“I panicked and left”, she admitted. “Nothing happened between us”.

“So, you haven't had… you know, s-e-x, since you got pregnant?”, he spelled, hoping for the girl not to listen to their conversation. Shyly, Y/N nodded in agreement. “Fuck our date, we’re downloading Tinder for you”.

“Stop it, I can handle myself”, she crossed her arms. “Look, no Tinder or anything like that. It’s just going to be the two of us having dinner together, as we have all the time, okay?”

“Okay, if that’s what you want”.

But Lando didn’t let go off that thought so quickly, always having it lingering in the back of his mind. He normally tries to shut out his feelings for Y/N in order to keep their friendship in peace, but he can’t stop thinking about the fact that she hasn’t been with anyone else for years now. Or the way that she said that she can ‘handle herself’; that was driving him insane. Was she traumatized with dating? Didn’t she want to go out there and start dating again? What was she waiting for?

“Look mate, if she hasn’t been with anyone, it surely is because of Ollie”, Max opined as they were at the karting track, shooting a Quadrant video. Y/N went out for a mother and daughter day at the beach, which meant that they were alone at that time. “I mean, I get her. She’s scared of putting someone new into her daughter’s life”.

“Well, I’m right here if she doesn’t want somebody new”, Lando joked, knowing that his other best friend very much knew his feelings for Y/N.

“She can’t possibly know that if you’re being too much of a dickhead to tell her”, Max sneered, making Lando sigh.

“You know damn well that I’m not losing Olivia or Y/N just because I have feelings for her”, he explained. “They are everything to me, Max. So I don’t care if I have to die knowing I never confessed to the love of my life”.

“I think you should tell her, though”, Max shrugged. “Because I’m sure she feels the same way. I mean, pay attention to the way that she looks at you next time you’re together. Y/N loves you so much, just like you love her. So please, stop with this shit and fucking fuck already”.

But no matter how much Max insisted, Lando still wouldn’t confess his feelings for Y/N. Although, it was getting hard to be around her and not be with her; not kiss her when she does something cute; not to engulf her with all his love whenever she took care of him. He wanted it all with her.

Through the whole weekend, he thought he might just confess it eventually. He had to fight the urge to do so as they were bouncing Olivia back and forth through your walk around the city, and once again when you looked absolutely beautiful for the pictures in his camera. And although he wasn’t going to confess it, Lando still found a way to show his love for her.

“Wow, you look so beautiful tonight”, he complimented once she opened the door to the hotel room she was staying with Ollie. Y/N was wearing a long-sleeved white dress, with black tights and heels, combined with a bow on her head, for the dinner they had arranged on their flight. Lando was enchanted with how pretty she looked.

“Thank you so much!”, she blushed, letting him into the room. Max appeared behind his friend shortly after, ready to take his babysitter position for the night, letting his best friends free for their little date

“Hey, babygirl”, Lando greeted Ollie, who was sitting in bed, freshly bathed in her pyjamas, watching some cartoon on TV. She extended her little arms at him, silently asking for a hug, which he gladly gave to her. “You smell so good. Did mummy shower you?”

“Yes, she did”, the girl replied, not very interested in her uncle, being too busy with her cartoon to care.

“Ollie is already very tired, Max. So I’m pretty sure she’ll fall asleep soon. And don’t worry, I already fed her, so she’s alright for the night”, Y/N instructed. “Just make sure she’s safe and get yourself comfortable”.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of her”, he assured, taking a spot next to Olivia, assuming his babysitter position. “Hey, Ollie, ready to spend the night with uncle Max?”

“Yes!”, she replied with a smile. “Where is mummy going with uncle Lando?”

“I’m taking mummy on a date”, Lando said, making Y/N almost choke on nothing with his words.

“What’s a date?”, she asked, and her mother was about to faint in embarrassment.

“A date is when two people who really like each other go out to do something fun together, like dinner”, Norris explained, making his goddaughter nod in agreement.

“So we can go on a date soon, uncle Lan?”, Ollie asked, making everyone in the room giggle.

“Of course, baby”, he pressed a kiss to her forehead before standing up from bed. “But now it’s mummy’s turn, okay?”

“Okay”, she smiled at then, being dragged back to her cartoon seconds later.

“You two, go, now!”, Max demanded, almost expelling them from that hotel room. Y/N quickly found her purse, and soon they were out the door.

There was an awkward silence between them until they reached the lift, ready to take off for dinner. And Y/N decided to break it with the question that was making the situation heavy. “Why did you tell Ollie that we’re going on a date?”, she asked.

“Because we are going on a date”, he replied with a shrug.

“Lando…”, Y/N started, but once again, she was cut short by her best friend.

“Look, I get that you don’t want to go out and meet new people. But that doesn’t mean I can’t still treat you with a nice date when you surely deserve one”, he said. “So yes, I’m taking you on a date. We’re going to have a fancy dinner, with the candles and everything”.

Y/N tried to contain her smile with his response, but it was too hard. And she knew that Lando wasn’t going to give up on that idea any time soon, so she simply caved into his charms, slipping her hand into his, lacing their fingers together.

“So you better date me right, Norris”, she provoked, making him giggle.

“Okay, miss L/N. Let me give you the best date of your life”.

Lando had called a taxi minutes before they came down, so the car was waiting for them. He found a nice and private restaurant in Melbourne, that he knew that he wouldn’t be bothered with nosy fans and their annoying cameras. Everyone knew about their friendship, but tonight was entirely planned to be a date. He didn’t want the public to get the wrong idea and force a non-existent relationship and ruin what he has with Y/N

Also, the restaurant was a recommendation from his teammate, Oscar Piastri, who was born in Melbourne and said it was the perfect place for a private and nice date. Lando was surprised with their hospitality, especially when they responded to his request, putting candles and a bouquet of flowers on the table before they arrived. Y/N was very happy to see that gesture.

“Oh, this is so nice”, she cheered. “Nobody ever got me flowers on a date”.

“Really?”, Lando arched his brows. “That’s a shame. You deserve all the flowers in the world”.

“Cute”, Y/N pinched one of his cheeks before taking a spot on the table.

Even if he wouldn’t admit it, Lando was nervous about this date. In his head, maybe this whole thing would go into a different direction and actually be the start of something special for them. But it took one look at Y/N for him to relax. It was her, after all. Everything would be fine.

“This is perfect, Lan”, she reached for his hand over the table and rubbed circles with her thumb on the back of it. He sometimes thinks she can read his mind, knowing exactly when he needs some comfort as well. “I really needed this, you know? Some time away from the madness, someone treating me like a princess, putting on heels”, she joked, making him laugh.

“I knew you needed it. I see how much you give everything to take care of Ollie, and then my career along with yours. It’s only fair that someone steps in and take care of you sometimes”, he said. “Also, no pretty girl like you should go on four years without a date. Dating is literally good for the health. If you really are not very thrilled with the idea of getting out there to meet someone new, I can take you on a date every month”.

“You'd do that?”, she frowned. “What about your many girlfriends?”

Y/N knew that Lando was a party guy. Away from the whole homey environment they created, Norris likes to enjoy his single life travelling around the world with his DJ friends, partying like there was no tomorrow and, eventually, getting with beautiful women that were taken straight off a magazine photoshoot. She always had a laugh with the stories he tells her, enjoying that at least one of them was going through their youth as they should.

Ever since Olivia was born, she hasn’t been able to be young and stupid as someone her age should be. Sometimes Lando drags her to parties with him, but those occasions were very rare. She didn’t feel like she belonged to those places any more now that she’s a mother.

Whenever he was with Y/N, Norris didn’t think about that second part of his life; and he most definitely didn’t think about being with other women. He wanted to shout to her best friend that he wanted her to be the only woman he ever takes on dates for the rest of his life. But instead, he just flirted a little and hid his true feelings.

“They will survive one night without me. My main girlfriend can get aaaaall my attention”, he answered, making his friend laugh.

“Okay, if you say so”, she took the glass of wine to her lips to hid her embarrassment.

“Also, you know your life isn’t over just because you’re a mother, right?”, Lando asked. “If you want to go out, meet somebody to share your life with, or just have fun, you can do it. Olivia will be alright”.

“I think I’m just scared of putting myself out there again”, she confessed. “I mean, Ollie’s father… I thought we were forever, you know? He was my first real boyfriend and we used to get along really well. When he left, and didn’t really care about our daughter, it broke my heart”.

“He’s a dickhead”, Lando commented. “Don’t let him ruin this for you, not again”

“It’s not just him. I can’t think about a relationship without including Olivia in the equation. I’ve tried to do it, flirt around a little bit, but most men run away the second I say I’m a single mother. Also, if she gets attached to one of my boyfriends, and they end up leaving too… I can’t do this to her”.

Lando stood quiet for a few seconds, until he reached for her hands again. He knew he wanted to say that he would love to be that person for Y/N, but he just couldn’t say anything. Instead, he decided to comfort her and say something from the bottom of his heart.

“Someday, you’ll find someone who will love you with their whole heart. And he’ll take care of you, and he’ll love Ollie as much as you do. I know you will”, he assured, looking at her in the eyes. “You deserve love and happiness, and she does too. And that time will come for you”.

Just like Lando, Y/N knew she wanted that someone to be him, but she didn’t want to ruin what they had. If they gave this a try, and ended up not working out, it would affect Olivia more than anything. He was the closest thing to a father she ever had in his life, and she wasn’t going to ruin that for her daughter.

“I know I will. And you will find your girl as well”.

After the heart-to-heart conversation, The entire night turned lightweight, with them not getting too deep into serious conversations, sticking to jokes, casual talks about motorsports, or what they were currently listening to. Oh, and of course, some funny stories about their lives while they were away from each other. And when they were done, they walked hand in hand through the streets of Melbourne for a while, just enjoying each other's presence before heading back to the hotel. After all, the city looked really nice at night.

“Stand over there, let me take a picture of you”, Lando had dragged his camera out with him, so he positioned her in front of a mural and took some gorgeous pictures of her. After all, she looked almost angelic in that dress. “Cute”.

“Now one of us”, she ran up to him and leaned over his shoulder. With a smile, he turned the camera to them and took a photo of them. Then she pressed a kiss to his cheek, making him feel all bubbly inside. He pressed the button again, just before she turned away. Their sights met for a second, and they were caged at that moment for a few seconds, until Y/N turned away.

“I think we should head back to the hotel”.

Once they were back in the hotel, Lando carried her heels and purse as they arrived, trying not to be loud and disturb anyone’s sleep. Back in her room, they found little Ollie asleep against Max’s leg, which were spread across the bed as he watched some film on TV. Y/N smiled at the sight and leaned against the wall to watch the cute scene. Lando quickly appeared behind and hugged her from the back, peeking through her shoulder to see what was going on.

“I haven’t moved in the past hour”, Max chuckled. “Can’t wake this cuteness up”.

“I’ll help you”, Lando prompted, carefully taking Olivia’s tiny body from Max’s leg. Still, the movement woke her up for just a second. She opened a tired smile to her uncle.

“Uncle Lan, you’re back”, she mumbled.

“Yes, baby”, he smiled, pulling the covers from the bed and tucking her under them. “Now go back to sleep, okay? Mummy is going to be here with you soon”.

“Will you stay too?”, Ollie asked, and he had to look back to Y/N, looking for her approval to stay in their room, to which she nodded in agreement. Lando definitely wanted to stay more than anything in the world.

“Of course, my love. We can all cuddle together tonight”, he kissed her forehead. “I’ll just get my pyjamas from my room, but I’ll be back in the blink of an eye”.

“Okay, I’ll wait for you”.

Y/N stayed behind to get changed while Lando went to his room to get his things, with Max right behind him, curious about why his best friend was glowing after his “date”.

“How was it, mate?”, Max asked. “Because you have that stupid in-love grin on your face”.

“Oh, it was perfect, as always”, Lando shrugged, with the smile still stamped on his face.

“But did something special happen? Maybe a kiss, a confession…”

“Nothing new, just… It’s Y/N. I love spending time with her, and having a proper date with her was good”, Lando admitted. “And now I get to end the day with my girls. I couldn’t be happier”.

“Yeah, mate. Go enjoy some time with your little family”.

By the time he got back, his best friend was ready to go to bed, and Olivia was somewhere between awake and asleep, not wanting to fall into deep sleep until he was back. Silently, they both hopped into bed with the little girl between them. Ollie quickly found a comfortable spot in Norris’ chest and Y/N came to hug her from behind, making sure her leg was draped over Lando’s, along with one of her hands, that rested just under his ribcage.

“I love you, my girls”, he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of Olivia’s head, and leaning over to give another one on Y/N’s forehead. “I couldn’t think of a better way to end my day”.

“I love you too, uncle Lan. And I love you, mummy”, Ollie whispered back, making both him and her mother smile.

“I love you both”, Y/N’s confessed before falling comfortably into sleep next to her two favourite people in the world. In the end, she didn’t need the parties, the hookups, living her youth at its fullest. She had everything she needed right there, and that was enough to make her happy.

(...)

The morning after, Olivia woke up before any alarm clock set on any of their phones. She begged her mother to get out of bed, just so she could put on her McLaren shirt and finally go to the race. Lando opened his eyes in a good mood just by seeing her goddaughter so excited about the seeing him do his job.

“My favourite papaya girl”, he twirled her around, lifting the little girl on top of his head, making her giggle with the movements in the air. “Are you happy to be here and see uncle Lando and mummy work?”

“Yes!”, Ollie cheered. “You’re gonna win, right?”

“I’ll try my best”, he said, not wanting to crush Olivia’s heart by telling her that he probably wouldn’t win. But he would give everything to, at least, step on the podium just to make her happy.

Y/N did some very cute pigtails on her hair and added two orange ribbons, that matched perfectly to her McLaren shirt. Then, Olivia also asked her mother to paint her nails with neon yellow nail polish, because it is “uncle Lando’s favourite colour”. Truly his biggest fan.

The fans loved to see Norris into his godfather duties. And as much as Y/N tried to not expose her daughter to the public eye, sometimes it was impossible, just like when Olivia didn’t want to let go off Lando’s hands to walk across the paddock. It had been like this all weekend, and now that it was finally Sunday, she was more excited than the previous days. Every photographer captured the moment and she could already see the pictures blowing out on the internet, as they did all weekend.

“You go do your job, and we’ll take care of her”, Lando said, pointing to Max in the back, once they were inside the McLaren motorhome. Y/N had been working non-stop through the whole weekend and, gladly, the boys were looking after Ollie while she couldn’t be there for her. After all, it was part of the agreement for bringing her along.

“Alright, thank you so much”.

Y/N helped the entire communications team coordinate everything going on social media this Sunday. And then, she organized a few things from Lando’s schedule as everyone was getting ready for the race. Then, when it got close to its starting, she finally got to take a break from work to watch it from the garage.

Olivia was sitting on top of an engineering table, having a lot of fun, while everyone at McLaren was doing their job. Lando and Max were standing next to her, just as the first was getting everything ready to go into the car. He closed his suit and picked his gloves, extending it to his goddaughter, whose face lit up to be given a function at the race.

“Can you help me put on my gloves?”, Lando asked, and little Ollie helped him put them on, closing the velcro with her tiny hand and pressing a kiss on each of them once she was done. His heart warmed up with the gesture, and he just retributed this love giving by pressing a few kisses on her head. Then he noticed Y/N standing right behind them and walked up to her.

“You have the cutest daughter”, he commented, making her bite back a grin. “I hope she has a lot of fun today. I’m glad she’s here”.

“She’s very happy to be here. Thanks to you”, Y/N extended his balaclava to him, but instead, he used his hands to pull her into a hug. “You better do great and impress your niece”.

“I surely will. She’s my lucky charm”, he winked at his best friend and walked away to the grid, ready to hop into the car.

Y/N had that gut feeling that he definitely would be doing great today, but she never tells him before the race, afraid of jinxing it. So she simply stood next to her daughter, who now had her own headphone to keep her ears from harming, and was proudly cheering for Lando before the race even started.

“Come on, darling. Let’s go upstairs to the hospitality so we can properly watch the race”.

The Australian Grand Prix was very special to everyone. Olivia spent most of her time cheering and shouting for Lando, only stopping from time to time to ask questions about the race, to which Max gladly took his time to explain. Y/N mostly enjoyed her time at the race, only stopping to help the social media team from time to time.

At the end of the day, they were all glad that was the race Olivia got to see live. Max Verstappen had problems with his car, forcing him to retire from the competition. Lando took advantage of the mayhem among the grid and pushed harder, getting to finish P3 and stand on the podium.

Max and Y/N took Olivia to the parc fermé, where she could see her favourite uncle proceed with all his post race routine. Lando complimented his engineers, not to forget Carlos Sainz, the winner and one of his best friends, before he had time to come to his family and friends. Ollie practically jumped into his arms once he was close.

"You're sweaty", she complained, making him laugh.

“I'm sweaty?”, Lando asked. “Sorry, baby. Did you enjoy the race?”

“Yes!”

“She shouted for you the whole time. I have videos”, Max commented.

“Your biggest fan. I taught her very well”, Y/N nudged him away, bringing his attention to her. Lando then hugged his best friend, feeling good with the touch of her skin against his. It was always his favourite hug after a good race finish.

“You surely did”.

Lando went to the podium ceremony and Y/N took her daughter to watch this very special moment. Her godfather was the first one called to the podium, and Ollie shouted his name as loud as she could, earning a wave from him at the top of the stage. She was very impatient, wanting nothing more to be back with her uncle once again, even though he was busy with post race interviews and debriefs.

“Mummy, I want to see uncle Lando! It’s not fair that only you get to be with him”, she whined as they walked by her on the paddock. She had been very irritated with the wait.

“Just a second, my love. We’ll be here in a second”.

After all the wait - and the whining - Olivia got to leave the paddock on her favourite uncle’s arm. He gave her a piggyback ride as they walked along with Y/N, who was carrying all their belongings to the car.

“This weekend was very special. Ollie will remember it for the rest of her life”, Y/N commented, earning a big smile from Lando. “Thank you for everything. You’re always the best”.

“No, thank YOU for everything. This one was special to me as well because you were here”, he said. “I guess you're my lucky charm”.

“And you're ours”.

⋘ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 // 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ⋙

𝒔𝒐𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒍 𝒎𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒂 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 . 𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 - @celestialams @kapsylia @igotnorrrizz @hiireadstuff @bishhhitsaurion @mrsmaybank13 @bborra @sltwins @riccdannyf1 @67-angelofthelordme-67 @ctrlyomomma @lan4cha16 @alltoomaples @ellen3101 @hellyesjaehyun @tastebaldwin @sweate-r-weathe-r @carmenita122 @m0cha-bunny @lqvesoph @itscrzy @fangirlvibez @poppyflower-22 @livelovesports @logischeroktopus @happy-jj @saturnbloom77 @formulaal @secretgal66 @taisferrari-blog @sunsshinesunny @eclipsedcherry @tems13 @readingbringsjoy @timmispeach @kenzeyeballs @alilcloudy @rchitect-2015 @tillyt04 @eringaitskill @Honeyhatty12 @dreamercrowd @demig0d0fapollo @mxmtewnz @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @beyond-the-ashes @ijustgomessitupx @floraav @laiba26mindflay3r @marialovesf1 @sltwins @lizaschronicles @katieschry1 @loveofmylife12 @diaa-20 @urfavsgf @likedbygaslyy @notturlover @c-losur3 @brizzy-xo @gorgrussell @ellasaddiction2 @morketheduck @kravitzwhore @darkacademicvibes @jenna123456789 @crispymcniall @arsyao @phantomxoxo @noobmaster6931 @ohlahlaa @c0rpsecore @rafegirly @darleneslane @annalisenelson @nataliambc @amorydsmt @slytherinholland @hstylesmermaid @harrysdimples05 @xxbaby-dollxx @neilakavak @xxx-betty @cheyennep3107 @maketheshadowsfearyou @kittylolly4 @rain-against-the-glass @swechchhaj @kpoplover-2013 @landososcar @plotpal @hellowgoodbye @ace1997 @shynerdwhispers @larastark3107 @idkiwantchocolate @formula1-sophia

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fic #lando norris fanfic #lando norris series #lando norris fluf #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfiction #ln4 #ln4 x you #ln4 x y/n #ln4 x reader

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phanfictioncatalogue · 1 year ago

Text

Fanfiction.net (3) Masterlist

part one, part two

A Bite Of Ecstasy - gracezodiac

Summary: Phil manages to kill the slayer, and her blood has an interesting side effect…

Addicted To Love - qafbritin

Summary: Phil is in love with Dan, but is too afraid of rejection. He doesn't want to ruin the best friendship he's ever had. What will happen when Dan finally finds out Phil is in love with him, and how he will go about it?

Behind Brown Eyes - livvylovesyou

Summary: "This was so wrong, didn't Dan see it? They weren't supposed to be acting like this. This was supposed to be their time to be close, to be best friends. Not tense and silent. Not keeping secrets." or, Dan and Phil need some help in sorting out their feelings.

Boulevard of Broken Dreams - PokemonTrainerSara

Summary: A Phanfiction based off the song “Boulevard of Broken Dreams” by Green Day. Phil has been alone all his life, but one day he is finally found by someone, everything changes.

Breakfast In Bed - FromUnderTheLemonTree

Summary: Phil is bored of waiting for Dan to get up and decides to make him breakfast in bed as an excuse to wake him so they can watch their morning anime together. Phan.

Damaged Skin And Evil Sins - flamboyant-lester

Summary: Dan and Phil have been best friends forever, and when they start to drift apart, they both end up coping differently.

Fire Dances in the Hall - flamboyant-lester

Summary: Dan and Phil live in an orphanage. Phil almost loses Dan to Death when a fire outbreaks in the night.

High School Reunion - AmLu

Summary: Everyone knew that Dan and Phil hated one another but what they didn’t know, is that in the future a few things might’ve changed.

Hush - pink-satin-ribbons

Summary: Dan is in love with Phil and self-harms because of it. He can’t stand feeling weak and he believes that Phil will never love him back. So he turns to the one thing that makes him feel strong. His lighter.

It Happened - junecat

Summary: (TW) Dan only hit Phil once. Phil forgave him, but sometimes he wished Phil hadn’t.

Never Be Royal - mrs.cookieeater

Summary: Dan could never be royal. He was just an Omega peasant.

No Hablo Español - BluStrawberri

Summary: Phil and Dan are in Spanish class, and Dan asks him to translate something that isn’t in the book. Phil finally learns the meaning of his words when they’re home, and it takes him by surprise. But what will the ebony-haired boy do about it?

Nonexistent - TheAmazingInternetFangirl

Summary: After saying some completely harsh words in a live show, Dan ends it and finds that Phil is no where to be found, and, mysteriously, not one single person knows that Phil exists.

Ouija Board - NeverlandNat

Summary: Dan brings home a Ouija Board and makes Phil try it with him. Phil gets scared, but Dan keeps provoking the spirit he's messing with.

Petals On The Wind - ThatOneSmoshyPhanGirl

Summary: When his family moves on 'business', Phil Lester is left feeling homesick and wants nothing to do with anything. All changes when he falls in love with a boy whom he is forbade to be with. Follow these star-crossed lovers through an adventure of uncertainty and risks.

Pillows And Cat Whiskers - Abbeon

Summary: During the filming of the first philisnotonfire video, Phil jumped on top of Dan two times. The first time was innocent, and resulted in them confessing their hidden feelings for each other and loads of cuddles. The second time… a lot less innocent.

Precious Snowflake - tardisaur

Summary: The story begins a few days before Phil's birthday when Dan finds a new, very amusing, nickname for his best friend Phil. He also finds that his affections towards Phil are taking on a different direction. Phil struggles with feelings of insecurity but finds one thing that makes him feel better.

The Wardrobe - PHANGIRLFOREVER

Summary: What would happen if Dan Howell suddenly finds that Phil Lester has disappeared, and that he’s the only one to remember him?

Youtubers In Love - TragicwithacapitalT1

Summary: As Phil and Dan discover there love for eachother how will there friends react? And how will Dan cope with these new feelings?

You Will Be Covered In Gold - Lonewritersclub

Summary: They became famous and loved. But fame is pain sometimes and Dan never was a masochist. Phil can’t help but worry, when their vocalist turns to drugs to find an answer. // Band AU.

#phanfictioncatalogue #phanfiction #phanfic #phan #masterlists #ffnet #ffnet masterlist

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sweetshoko · 3 years ago

Text

WEBS – PART 1

DISCLAIMER; the banner is NOT made the represent the reader in any way, shape, or form. it is purely what is is for aesthetic purposes.

SYNOPSIS; in which armin has trouble keeping a big secret OR your class rival isn't the person he seems to be.

NOTE(S); spiderman!armin, nerd!eren, vigilante!mikasa, roommate!pieck, friendly rivals to lovers, college!au (send an ask to be tagged)

PAIRING(S); armin arlert x f!reader, mikasa ackermann x eren yeager, pieck finger x porco galliard

WARNING(S); action scenes, injury, mentions of blood, weapons (includes guns, odm gear, etc.), eventual smut (chapter will be indicated for avoidance), suggestive jokes, cussing, marijuana use, alcohol

Armin Arlert is a huge nerd.

He earns one of the best grades in your class, knows his way around the materials and tech provided by the school, and has a seemingly neat schedule. Armin Arlert doesn’t go to a party every night and when he does, he’s always sticking by Mikasa or Eren’s side. At first glance, he’s boring and to some, maybe a bit tacky, but at least he’s fairly kind when someone approaches for help. That’s what you’ve observed, at least.

Blonde hair that falls over pretty blue eyes, the soft curve of his nose, supple lips—it’s almost infuriating to you because you know those eyes look at you with a hint of cockiness despite the innocent vibe others may get from him. The truth about Armin Arlert is that he knows that you’re trying so so so hard on your quiz out of spite and he’s putting his all into making sure that he gets that top grade in your class.

It’s hard to not notice him—there’s only twenty people in this room as opposed to the three hundred that usually show up in the lecture hall, but that’s just how your lab class was. Two days a week of excruciating, long work for two hours. And never once did he say anything to degrade you, never once did he rub a score in your face, but you still felt that pressure.

Despite the fact the scores on the board didn’t have names, only student numbers, you were still able to pick out which one was his. You could tell by the sly smile whenever he saw himself at the top and you were sure he could tell which one was yours based on the way you would glance at him whenever you were at the top.

“Good job.”

“What do you mean, Armin?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Good job on what?”

“The exam,” he grumbles, “You really topped me this time.”

And that’s as far the exchange would go, the two of you quickly returning back to your desks after checking the scores pinned to the wall. The rest of the class would go by fast, the rest of it being notes, lab preparation, and other small things you didn’t really have to think hard about. Right after it would end, Eren and Mikasa would be waiting for him outside the classroom to do God-knows-what while you would usually go back to your dorm to rest up.

This time when you unlock the door, you’re greeted by the familiar sight of black hair splayed across the arm of the couch and the sound of a dating show on the TV. It was rare for Pieck to be home around this time–she was usually at Porco’s around this time–but you weren’t displeased by her presence. In fact, it made you feel a little less lonely in your apartment.

“Morning,” she yawns, stretching her arms above her head, “How was class?”

“You’re here today?”

“I live here. How was class?’

“Aren’t you usually at–”

“Yes. Now, how was class? Did you have any fun?”

“Class was class. Nothing special, Pieck,” you sigh, setting your backup on the ground near the front door, “We’re starting this big lab on Thursday, though. That’s about it.”

“Is it like an individual thing or do you have partners? Groups, maybe?”

“You’re acting weird again, Pieck.”

She groans, standing from the couch and walking towards the kitchen. You follow after her, trying to figure out what your roommate is pissed about this time. “You’re making this way harder than it needs to be. I just want to know how you’re doing!”

“I’m sorry! You usually don’t ask so many questions. When you’re back, I’m just used to your little snacks and dating shows. And I’m tired. You know how long that class is.”

“Fine. We can watch my dumb little dating show and you can eat my dumb little strawberries.”

She huffs and you ignore it, opting to do exactly as she says out of spite. Pieck never be mad at you. It’s something you learned after two years of friendship. When she comes back home late at night looking all beat up from whatever party she attended, you’re always there to help her unwind. If you were sleeping, you’d wake up to the sound of her pained groans as she walked past your room.

“Why do you want to know about my lab class anyways?”

“I literally memorized your schedule. That’s the class you just came from.”

“Ah, so you’re being polite, now?”

“I’m the sweetest person you’ve ever met. Don’t you already know?”

You roll your eyes, throwing a strawberry stem that she catches between her teeth. She sticks her tongue out at you as she throws it away. “I’ll be out again tonight.”

“And I will be studying. But if you need help with anything, just let me know.”

“I know and I love ya tons!”

“Love you, too, Pieck.”

“Eren, you’re going to have to be more specific than that.”

“Do you need Mikasa to help you?”

“No, I can do it fine on my own! Plus, what if something happens to her.”

“I would be just as worried about you, but you know she can hold her own.”

Armin jumps from building to building with the help of the webs shooting from his wrist. After a few more seconds, he spots the robber from above. Ready to tangle him in the sticky substance, he aims with precision, but he figures he’s already too late because he can feel the figure behind him right before it passes–there’s a grappling hook shooting towards the enemy and it lands right near the wall he runs next to. A girl with familiar black hair speeds past him, landing feet first right on the man they had been chasing.

He’s down, struggling to get up under Mikasa’s step and Armin sighs. “You really didn’t have to do that.”

“Well, it made the job easier for you, didn’t it?”

He smiles at her as Eren cheers in the microphone, the sound flooding their earpieces. “I’m doordashing sandwiches right now! You guys better be back soon!”

“We will. I’m fucking starving.”

Armin makes sure to tangle the man in his webs, leaving the bag of stolen items right next to him. Despite the fact the robber had been physically exhausted, he still manages to curse at them as they walk away. The small apartment they live in isn’t far, in fact it’s the perfect walking distance, but Mikasa still glides into the air using the ODM gear that had been designed for her while Armin follows along with the mechanical webs he had made himself.

From afar, a woman in a black suit watches, a mask covering the top half of her face. The wind blows in her hair as she stays hidden on a rooftop. After she’s out of their general sight, she skillfully makes her way down the building to where their victim is.

“Now, what the fuck do you want from me?”

“Hush,” she responds in a sweet voice, “I’m definitely not letting you out. I’m just here to observe.”

She kicks the man on his back, touching the white substance covering his body with gloved hands. “Interesting. It’s very sticky.”

“Well, no fucking shit.”

With the knife in her hands, she cuts a small piece without undoing the whole wrap around his body. From afar, she can hear police sirens, signaling that it's time for her to escape the premises. “Looks like I’ll be going home just fine tonight. Thanks for letting me look.”

The man continues shouting obscenities at her as she scales the building, finding her way back home.

“Are you going on Saturday?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Come on… You have to. You’ve been studying for weeks and you do have to let loose once in a while you know.”

“What if you kept doing your pre lab work instead of convincing me to go to a party?”

“What if you just said yes so that I can stop bothering you about it?”

“What if you drove me home because I definitely will not be sober if I go?”

“What if Annie drove you home because she’s driving me home?”

“Deal.”

“Thanks, Hitch,” you smile discreetly, still staring at your laptop screen as you enter in your predicted calculations for your next assignment. Even though you technically didn’t start it until next week, it was supposed to be a heavy one and having fun before you went dark for the next few weeks after didn’t sound like a bad idea.

“Maybe you and Armin will finally get that tension off your hands there.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m not blind, you know. You’ve been looking in his direction like every five minutes. You just type on your silly little laptop to make yourself look busy, don’t you?”

“You’re a bitch,” you sigh, looking up at her smirking face.

She wiggles her finger in front of yours, satisfied at the fact she pushed the right buttons, “And what’s with those competitive little comments you guys make? It’s like passive aggressive, but not.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“That little ‘Good job, Armin’ or the little ‘Looks like you did real good this time.’ or the ‘So close yet so far. Better luck next time.’ What the hell is that all about?”

“It’s a playful competition. You know how I am about this stuff,” you explain, “It motivates me to do better in this class.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. When are you guys gonna have sex?”

“Hitch! Can you at least keep it down? He’s looking here.”

“You’re being paranoid.”

“Because you’re embarrassing me.”

“No. It’s because you have a little crush and you care about what he thinks.”

“I’ll never live this down, will I?”

“It’s okay. If I was in your place and Armin was Spiderman himself, I’d love the sexual tension,” she dreamily sighs, “The things I would do.”

“You mean the guy with the red suit who catches criminals? That could literally be anyone. It could be Connie for all we know.”

“I’d just tell him to keep the suit on.”

“You’re sick.”

From across the room, Armin smiles to himself and thanks the spider that enhanced his ability to hear. Not only does he take note of your actual conversation, but also the way your heartbeat becomes faster with the suggestion of you two together. And Hitch? He’s flattered, but he’ll have to decline the offer and he’s mostly sure that she would understand.

“You look weird.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your smile… it’s just so goofy.”

“Eren!”

“What?”

“Let him be. He’s probably just thinking of someone right now.”

“Someone?” Eren raises his eyebrows while Armin sweats under his gaze, feeling the heat of his stare. “I have a good guess.”

“Don’t be a bitch, Eren.”

“Woah, woah, woah. I love you, but we’re really going to let this slide.”

Mikasa rolls her eyes before giving her blonde friend a pat on the back as a silent sign of support. Eren only puts on his signature smirk while Armin furiously types on his computer, pretending that he’s focused on the calculation table and the calculation table only. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Come on, Armin. Having a crush is normal.”

“I know that.”

“And you two have been eye fucking ever since this class started. I can feel it from here when you guys check the grade board.”

“Am I not allowed to appreciate someone’s intelligence and dedication?”

“I think it goes way past that, buddy,” he claps his hand on Armin’s back as their professor sends him a death glare, almost like he knows they’re up to no good already, “You want to go on a date so bad. You want to kiss her, get to know her, maybe–”

“Let’s not finish that sentence, yeah?”

“The point is,” he continues, wrapping his arm around Mikasa’s shoulder, “You should ask her out. At least before this class ends because who knows when you’ll get another class with her.”

“I’m in biochem and she’s in chem. I think we’re bound to get at least one other class together.”

“But are you really going to wait and take that chance? She’s obviously into you. And you’re into her. Do I have to convince you that she–”

“I know she likes me, Eren.”

“Then what’s the problem? You mention her at least twice a day. Even if it’s just a little stupid thing you heard her say or what she wore that day. Don’t come here and tell me you’ve been doing those observations for nothing.”

“She just…”

“What?”

“What if something happened to her? And it was my fault? I don’t think I would be able to deal with that.”

“If she finds out, she always has a choice to leave, but if she doesn’t,” he pauses, pulling Mikasa’s chair closer to his before doing a stupid pose with a stupid grin while the girl is wide eyed, interrupted from her work by his sudden affection, “She can be like us.”

“I’m not worried about you two because both of you can hold your own.”

“Thanks. But we would help her is also what I’m trying to get at. Anyone who is important to you is important to us.”

“Thank you.”

“So are you gonna ask her out?”

“No.”

“Fuck you.”

There’s nothing like dimmed lights, booze, and the faint scent of weed coming from the room you just walked out of. It’s safe to say that this place stinks. It’s hot, crowded, and your mind is awfully foggy. Everything seems to blur, but you don’t panic. Instead, you lean into the feeling of relaxation. It’s easier to talk, easier to be expressive and Niccolo is sure to watch your cup as Sasha mingles with other people.

“I’m really glad you two found each other,” you hug his side and he welcomes it, one hand coming across his chest to pat your head, “Sasha was already a happy girl. I didn’t think that it could ever be topped until you came into the picture.”

“You really think so?”

“Of course I do. If I hated you, I would have told you by now.”

He sighs in relief, “It just means a lot to hear you say that. Especially how it was in the beginning with Jean and Connie.”

“It’s okay, Nic. You know how they are. They’re overprotective and had unresolved issues with Reiner. Now look at them,” you point to the four men playing beer pong, Jean teamed up with Colt and Reiner teamed up with Connie, “They’re besties.”

“You’re right,” he looks around with furrowed eyebrows before his attention is back on your, “Where the hell is Hitch?”

“Getting rid of me so soon?”

“No, I enjoy your company. I’m just asking since you two usually hang around each other at parties.”

“Fuck, if I know. She wanted me to come so that I could talk to some guy in our lab class. I doubt he’ll be here, though. He comes to a party like once in a blue moon.”

Armin can hear your voice from the entrance of the house. And he can pinpoint where you are just from the sound. After he had told Eren about the conversation he overheard, he had been forced to go and before he could refuse, Eren had already texted Jean and Connie. It wasn’t that hard–all he had to say was that he wanted some alone time with Mikasa–but little did they know she would be fighting literal criminals during that time. There’s more than one vigilante in the big city, Eren had told him. Armin refused because what if all of them weren’t working that night? That was when Mikasa casually mentioned she didn’t mind doing the job that night.

After following the sound of your laughing, he sees the cup pong game where he decides to great the players who make it a priority to mix him a drink (something they probably cannot do). He scans the room and that’s when he finds you, hanging from Porco’s arm and grabbing Sasha with your free hand to bring them together. He’s never seen you this… comfortable–you always looked studious during your class together. While your stolen glances were caught (and reciprocated), he’s only ever seen you in school mode.

And the sight makes his heart swell. To him, you were already pretty beforehand whether you were furiously typing on your laptop or making a snarky comment about how you scored a point higher on a test. But seeing you in your element, with your friends and full, genuine smile, he melts on the spot. Oh god, is he even going to be able to talk to you.

He doesn’t have time to ponder that because right when you spot him, you’re waving at him, stumbling your way to his side. Reiner notices you and decides to not comment, handing Armin a bottle of soju instead of actually making a drink. The blonde twists the cap open while you lean on the wall next to him. His palms are starting to feel sweaty and oh no, he’s about to combust.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks cooly, no stuttering. Just a clear, established question because it’s a valid concern. Your smile is so bright, it’s almost blinding him. He downs half of the drink while he waits for your response. Your cute little thinking face is on, the same expression you have when you’re doing your work in class, and he’s slowly relaxing the longer you’re with him.

“Because you look really pretty.”

Holy shit.

Armin is sure he’s going to combust, but you just laugh at him. “Why’d you get all red, Min?”

“My face turns red when I drink.”

“Okay, liar.”

“What if I told you that you were pretty? You would be blushing, too, wouldn’t you?”

“Probably, but I wouldn’t be as flustered as you.”

“Oh, really? What if I kissed you? Would I win, then?”

“Tch. Tch. Not everything is about competition, Min,” you give him a sly smile, lips kissing the shell of his ear before you whisper, “But if this was, I think I’d win, yeah?”

It sends shivers down his spine and Armin feels like he’s in high school again. You basically confessed that you liked him and he heard it, isn’t he supposed to have to upper hand?

Yet you’re standing there with your stupid little grin, giggling while he turns a bright red. All he can do is sip on his soju until the bottle is empty. “I don’t hate you, Armin.”

“I know that.”

“Just wanted to make sure you knew.”

Weren’t you just this close to kissing him a few seconds ago?

But it hits him that the only conversations that were shared were short exchanges pertaining to whatever rivalry you guys had during class. You didn’t know much about him except for his test scores and how it compared to yours. You knew who he hung around (it almost hard not to since you were with Sasha a lot) and who he was, but to you, he was probably just a minor crush.

And Armin realizes he’s downright infatuated with you. He realizes that a lot of the things he learns about you comes from what he can hear. He has superhearing after all, but you don’t know that meaning that he has to walk around eggshells when talking to you. If he slips up, he’ll sound a little too creepy even though that’s just how superhearing works. He can technically hear everyone in that room, but he chooses to pay attention to you.

“Seeing you outside of class is weird… but it’s nice.”

“Why’s that?”

“It feels like you work a lot. I don’t go to parties a lot, but you’re usually never here even though I see Eren and Mikasa from time to time. And you three are attached at the hip. Plus you’re friends with Sasha, Connie, and Jean. So I really don’t understand why you would go unless parties aren’t really your thing?” You semi ask out of curiosity because you just made the same realization—you don’t know that much about Armin.

“They aren’t. I like coming to talk to my friends, but I don’t get crazy drunk or anything.”

“I see. That’s pretty expected on you, to be honest.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You don’t seem like you’d be too crazy outside of your school life.”

Oh, if only you knew.

“I guess it can seem that way.”

That night, Armin comes home satisfied from mindless conversation. While he might know about what drama was going on with your friend group and how you feel about it, what irrational fears you had, and more based on your conversations with Hitch during class, at least you knew a few more things about him. But they’re little things like his major, what living with Mikasa and Eren was like, and the shows that he’s been keeping up with.

Nevertheless, you know him just a little bit better and that’s better than nothing.

#armin arlert x reader #armin arlert x you #armin arlert x y/n #armin arlert fluff #armin arlet fanfic #armin arlert fanfic #armin arlert fanfiction #aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan x you #attack on titan fanfiction #armin arlet x you #armin arlet x y/n

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 3 years ago

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Night Drive (Kim Hongjoong and Park Seonghwa) Rated

Pairing: Dilf!/College Professor! Kim Hongjoong × Younger College Student! Reader (Female) × Dilf/College Professor! Park Seonghwa

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Dilf AU.

Summary: Being picked up by her boyfriend for a date, Y/N has no idea about Hongjoong's plans nor about the surprise guest joining them in their little night drive.

Word Count: 6K+

Warnings: Aged up/Older Ateez (but age differences are still within legal boundaries), exhibitionism, voyeurism, breast play, fingering, tiny allusion to infidelity (which I do not condone nor justify), breeding/pregnancy kink, slight creampie kink, katoptronophilia (mirror kink basically), daddy word, degradation, manhandling, unprotected penetrative sex (always use protection), Dom! SeongJoong, Sub! Reader

Taglist: @seacottons @little-precious-baby @yunhofingers @multidreams-and-desires @brie02 @deja-vux @daniblogs164 @couchpotatoaniki @a-soft-hornytiny @yunsangoveryonder @minhyukmyluv @mingismoon @nanamarkie @ateezbabysitters @rainteez02

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Rolling down the darkly tinted window of his midnight black Buick Regal, Hongjoong greeted the young and beautiful student that was standing by the curbside of the entrance to his college dormitories, her face lighting up instantly when she saw him. Wasting no second, she quickly opened the door and fitted her frame inside the passenger seat of the car.

"I was supposed to get the door for you." His lips curled up slightly into a pout.

"I know, but..... I just couldn't wait to see you." Leaning over, she boldly pressed her lips against that of the older male's, a soft and content hum being breathed out by him, soon turning into an annoyed whine when she pulled back too soon for his liking.

"Professor." Her tone changed slightly, a suggestive giggle escaping her lips as she leaned back in, this time the kiss turning more heated with her tongue attempting to slide inside his mouth, which he would have allowed had he not had on the back of his mind the other plans he had for the night.

"Naughty naughty girl, wanting to get frisky not even a minute into our date." He snorted softly as one of his hands came up to lightly pat her cheek with his palm in a chastising manner.

Switching the gear shift to drive, Hongjoong pulled out of the entrance and onto the main road to take both of them to the place he had chosen for their nightly getaway. The girl beside him was clearly anxious and he didn't blame her. It had been a grueling time the past weeks due to the semester being over and everyone, students and teachers were stressing over final exams. Hongjoong's hand still ached somewhat from grading too many papers and reports, his head pulsing endlessly with a killer migraine. But at last, that was all over and he was finally able to take his younger lover out properly, spend time with her after missing her voice, touch, body, and all of her in general. He had the entire evening planned out, unlike anything she would have expected. It was hard for him to suppress the smirk creeping into his features as he thought about how the night would end if his plans succeeded how he wanted them to.

He often took a small glance to see her pretty face looking out the window, tediously watching all the shops and cars they passed on the drive to whatever destination he was taking to her, which he adamantly refused to say, keeping his lips sealed. Every once in a while, he'd notice the way she squirmed in her seat, her fingers occasionally playing around with the hem of the white skirt she decided to wear or her palm straight on rubbing the side of her thigh.

"Oh so you are indeed horny my little kitten. Absolutely perfect." Hongjoong thought to himself. It was exactly how he wanted her: wet, horny and desperate by the time they made their first stop.

"Honey, I hope you don't mind, but I have to stop here for a second."

The girl didn't protest, simply nodded and didn't think too much about him pulling up and parking in front a luxurious building. Parking the car, Hongjoong waited patiently until a familiar figure finally came out and made their way over to his car, waving a hand in his direction. Not knowing there already was an occupant in the front seat, the stranger hastily opened the door, taking a step back when he saw who was sitting next to Hongjoong.

"Y/N?" He questioned in shock.

"Professor Park?" She exclaimed just as he, her head whipping over to demand an explanation from Hongjoong as to why one of the other professors from the university was currently there, especially when their relationship was to remain a secret from the school. Hongjoong however kept his grin plastered on, as if nothing was the matter.

"Sorry Hwa, looks like someone already took your seat."

Pointing over at the backseat, his friend let out a soft huff as he began closing the door.

"Wait! Seonghwa, don't close that door yet."

Reaching his hand over, Hongjoong unbuckled Y/N's seatbelt before telling her:

"Honey, go ride in the back with him."

Her eyes bulged out, her mouth muttering softly to him if he was insane, yet Hongjoong was still calm as he reached a hand up and caressed her cheek.

"Trust me baby." He whispered before placing a soft peck on her lips.

Reddening significantly, Y/N got out of the car, thanking the other male when he was kind enough to open the door for her to let her inside first before he himself took his place right next to her. Both of them looked over at each awkwardly, wondering what on earth was Hongjoong thinking. Y/N averted her gaze and stared at the floor mat, desperately hoping that afterwards, the witness to hers and Hongjoong's relationship wouldn't go directly to the school board and cause problems for them. Seonghwa on the other hand had so many questions spiraling in his head, mainly his friend's relationship with the student next to him, and more importantly, why he had kept that secret from him. The car ride now felt even more long and brooding with the tension in the air, the music playing from the stereo not helping at all and just making the environment more unpleasant.

Looking back at them through the rearview mirror, Hongjoong let out a small chuckle.

"I'm sure you're both wondering why I brought you here without telling you the reasons."

Seonghwa and Y/N glanced briefly at one another, the older male shrugging softly, just as lost as she was. Sighing softly, Hongjoong continued.

"Well to start off, I think it's very clear that all those rumors about a teacher and student sleeping together are indeed true my friend."

Seonghwa widened his eyes at Hongjoong, his lips parting as he let out an astonished scoff. Although more than once he heard a few whispers every now and then about his colleague getting too friendly with one of his students, he always believed them to be lies, knowing Hongjoong to be a sensible and well respected professor that would never risk his career over something like that. As if reading his friend's thoughts, Hongjoong piped up once more.

"What can I say? I couldn't resist myself when I saw her, especially when you see what's underneath those clothes of hers."

Peeking his head over, Hongjoong sweetly smiled at the quiet girl.

"Baby, do me a favor and unbutton your blouse for me. Let Seonghwa see those pretty tits of yours."

Y/N was taken aback by his sudden order, her voice getting caught in her throat and stammering out a bit of gibberish as she tried to remind herself to form proper words.

"Hong- Hongjoong!" She whisper yelled at him, embarrassed about being asked to do such a dirty request in front of another teacher. Seonghwa himself shifted uncomfortably in his seat, still saying absolutely nothing as he tried to look somewhere else.

"Oh come on kitten, don't be shy. You have the cutest set of tits a man could see. Besides...." Y/N could clearly see the smug grin on he was donning through the rearview mirror, his eyes also looking at her direction.

"I know very well you want Seonghwa to touch you. I heard you the other day talking with your friends, and if I remember correctly, you said you wouldn't mind having him play with your body and be his little toy."

Y/N lowered her head in shame. She didn't believe Hongjoong would have heard her when she said that. She didn't even dare lift her eyes to the man next to her, afraid of seeing whatever expression he had in his face. She did however, hear him chuckle amusedly, his voice finally being heard.

"Oh my. Hongjoong, is she really that much of a whore that she's fantasizing about fucking other men even when she has you?"

Taking off his seatbelt, Seonghwa scooted over towards her, his face coming so dangerously close she could feel his breath against her ear.

"What darling? Does he not fuck you enough? Is he not treating you properly? Or do you perhaps just want a more......endowed cock?"

Y/N couldn't help but shudder when his hand lifted up to cup her chin, turning her face so he could look her directly in the eye. Seonghwa couldn't deny that her startled look turned him on extremely.

"Now I'm extremely curious to find out just how cute you really are without those clothes on. Is Hongjoong just talking you up or am I really going to have to restrain myself from eating you up if I tear those clothes off one by one?" He hummed softly as he brushed his lips against hers, causing Y/N's breath to hitch slightly.

"Kitten, I believe I gave you an order a few minutes ago and you know I hate repeating myself. Undo your shirt so Seonghwa can look at your chest."

Y/N bit her lip as her hands reached up and began to pop each of the buttons of her grey cardigan. The pair of eyes on her right were burning a hole right through her and it only served to deepen the intense wanting she was feeling in between her legs. After undoing enough buttons to expose her black bra, Y/N pulled the material down enough so her breasts could pop out of them. The soft groan her teacher emitted helped fuel her pride, especially after looking up and seeing him nearly drool at the sight, tongue coming out to moisten his luscious and pink lips.

"Fuck Joong....you weren't kidding when you said she has a pretty rack." His hand clenched and unclenched itself in an effort to meet from reaching out to cup one of her tits in his palm.

Knowing exactly the lustful thoughts running through his friend's mind, Hongjoong was more than willing to grant them without any grudges.

"Now kitten, I want you to be a good girl and let Seonghwa play with you as he wants. Tonight, you're going to be his personal toy and you have to do everything he tells you to do. Am I making myself clear?"

Y/N quickly nodded, too aroused and turned on that she wouldn't have cared if it was Seonghwa touching her and Hongjoong watching or Hongjoong touching her and Seonghwa watching. She just wanted someone to help the emptiness she was feeling.

"You're serious about this Joong? I can really use her as my personal sex toy?" He questioned with a wicked grin, hand coming up to clasp around Y/N's jaw.

"She's all yours Hwa. We have a couple minutes before we reach the hotel that I booked a room in. Think you can get her wet enough by the time we get there?"

Seonghwa let out a hearty laugh at Hongjoong's challenge.

"I'll get her drenched without making her cum, don't worry about it."

Tilting her face towards him, Seonghwa winked at her before crashing his lips onto hers. Just as she suspected, Seonghwa's lips were soft and plump, and they seemed to be avid fans of nibbling playfully against her own lips. The hand that was on her chin swooped itself down and pressed itself against her sternum, fingers delicately caressing the skin around it. Sweeping his hand with feather light strokes, Seonghwa moved his fingers across the top of her breasts and then to the sides, caressing each and every inch of her skin, being careful not to directly touch her nipples. He wanted to tease her, rile her up, have her writhe and whine about the lack of contact on the parts of her body where she most needed him. He was enjoying himself, enjoying as he silently tortured the girl by merely touching the outer parts of her soft mounds. It didn't take long for her to notice this cruel pattern of his, the frustrated groan she poured out as his tongue devoured her mouth being a tell tale sign.

"Such an impatient one." Seonghwa chuckled, dragging his tongue down the side of her neck.

He then surprised her by cupping one of her breasts into his large hand, tenderly massaging the spongy like flesh while his thumb worked to harden the nipple even more. Y/N threw her head back, giving Seonghwa more access to press tiny love bites across her neck and collarbone. His other hand, being bored with nothing to do, came up and proceeded to give the same treatment its twin was receiving, groping it and fondling it until she was releasing the cutest noises to bless his ears.

"If you're already like this with me just touching your breasts, how will you be when I play with that pussy of yours?"

Y/N couldn't help but let an embarrassingly loud moan escape when she heard him say that, her walls tightening and clenching around nothing as she thought about having Park Seonghwa sliding his hand in between her folds. Even Hongjoong was surprised by the effect his friend was having on her, making him slightly jealous and yet not so as he was enjoying glancing over every now and then to watch his beloved girl be used in such a way by another man. He couldn't quite explain why, but offering up his prized possession as nothing more than an object of pleasure to someone else, his closest friend nonetheless, made him get unbelievably hard. If he could, he would have whipped himself out and would have started to beat his meat, but unfortunately he had to pay attention to the road in front of him, going slightly above the speed limit in an effort to reach the hotel as fast as possible, all while occasionally sparing a glance or two through the mirror to look at Y/N's lust filled state of mind.

"Spread your legs for me young lady. Let me see just how wet you are."

Obeying without hesitation, Y/N made sure to pull up her skirt, revealing the skimpy choice of lace underwear she had chosen for the evening. Seonghwa sucked in a deep breath when he saw it.

"Did you come here knowing you were gonna get fucked?"

"More like hoping she would get fucked." Hongjoong spoke up with a lighthearted teasing tone.

Hooking his fingers on the top of her panties, Seonghwa practically ripped the material off her body, sliding it down her legs before bringing it up to his face and inhaling deeply.

"Oh god you smell so delicious." He grunted as his nostrils basked in the scent of her arousal.

"Why don't you keep them as a memoir? Cause after tonight, I'm not letting you touch her again."

Hongjoong's statement made Seonghwa remember that he still had a task at hand. Making sure to tuck her panties inside his pant pocket, Seonghwa turned his attention back to her glistening folds. They were practically inviting him to shove his hand as far as it could possibly reach inside, he was very tempted to even fist her tiny hole right then and there. But he would much rather prefer to work her up even further, tease her until she was begging him to fuck her. When she saw his hands come down, Y/N instinctively parted her knees even further, adjusting herself on the seat so he could reach every part of her exposed womanhood.

"You've trained the slut well Hongjoong." Both the trainer and his trainee lit up at the praise from their guest.

"Yes, my girl is the best." Hongjoong proudly added, as he reached a hand back to squeeze one of Y/N's legs in a loving manner.

Seonghwa's thumbs slid themselves right up to her groin, massaging the tendons at either side of her pussy, only briefly allowing them to brush against her lips. Y/N couldn't help but gasp as he pulled the flesh at either side, stretching out her wet entrance slightly, the cool air from the air conditioning hitting right at her slopping mound. Seonghwa continued this pattern of pressing her swelling lips apart and then rubbing his fingers down the sides, frustrating the recipient as he didn't actually touch the parts where she needed him most. He was toying around with her again, no doubt trying to get her to beg.

"Please daddy-" Being so frustrated by the slow, shallow movements of the fingers that refused to budge and stimulate her clit, Y/N called out for the person in front.

"Babygirl, you're asking the wrong person. I told you that for now you're Seonghwa's little plaything. So if you think I'm going to intervene, you're absolutely wrong." One corner of Hongjoong's lips curled up when they heard her pleading whines, yet he still did nothing.

"Why don't you ask him yourself what you want? No.... beg him. I know for a fact he likes girls who beg."

When she looked up at him with a pout, Seonghwa let out an amused chortle.

"What is it you want darling? Hmm? Tell me." He encouraged her as his fingertips faintly brushed against her clit, causing her legs to tremble and her hole to secrete more juices out her body.

"That... please...touch me there." She groaned as she tried to take hold of Seonghwa's hand and place it right on top of her heat, but he kept it firmly away, lightly laughing at the state she was in.

"Where darling? You're going to have to be specific."

He was making her feel more and more frustrated to the point of losing all timidity and decorum.

"Park Seonghwa fucking pound my pussy with your fingers!"

Hongjoong widened his eyes in amazement at her use of his colleague's name, but he wasn't mad. On the contrary, he wanted to see how her tiny show of disrespect for the older male, who was also her professor, would play out. Seonghwa stayed still momentarily, making Y/N believe that she might have gone too far. Just as she was about to apologize, a half strangled yelp was pulled out of her body when two fingers dove inside her drenched hole with no warning, aggressively starting a pace of deep strokes, burying themselves as far as they could reach. While his 2 longest fingers were busy working her open, his thumb decided to occupy itself by rubbing against her clit, its rhythm matching that of the other members.

"This what you wanted?" Seonghwa asked, lips attaching themselves onto her neck once more.

"Oh God yes! Yes! Fuck! You're gonna make me cum..you're going to.."

Y/N panted loudly, hips practically humping themselves against Seonghwa's hand, trying to reach that peak that was just within her reach. Just as she felt herself about to spill over, Seonghwa stopped all movements inside her pussy and against her clit, hindering her desire to cum.

"No! Please!" She cried out, eyes scrunching with tears as her head dropped back on the head rest of the car. When her own hand tried to reach down to her groin, Seonghwa was quick to catch it, nearly crushing it in his own.

"No darling, we're having none of that. I told you I was going to get you wet without letting you cum. We could have taken this the easy way but you chose to disrespect me and therefore I had to punish you. Now..."

Releasing her hand, he dropped his fingers and stuffed them back inside her pussy, her walls pulsing against them, screaming to be allowed to release into his palms.

"Let's try this again."

Y/N's eyes fluttered closed as she felt the delicious sensation of Seonghwa slipping his fingers in and out of her, this time setting a more slow and sensual pace. Being edged by him for what seemed like hours and having been dangerously close to her high just minutes ago, it didn't take long for Y/N to start producing those endearing moans of hers again, her high building up once again rather fast. She melted into his touch, hips once again grinding up as if they had a mind of their own. Just as her walls clenched up once again, Hongjoong made his presence known.

"We're here."

Letting out a disappointed sigh at being denied her orgasm again, Y/N began to quickly fasten the buttons of her top while Seonghwa helped out by adjusting her skirt and pulling it down to cover up her lower half. Helping her out of the car, Hongjoong gestured for them to follow him as he led them through the reception desk and towards the elevators. As if it was fate, the elevator they got in was completed alone, leaving the three of them inside as it climbed up towards the respective floor they were assigned to. Looking over and seeing was currently distracted by watching the numbers on the screen change, Seonghwa took the opportunity to continue his fun, fingers snaking under her skirt to cup her ass. Being startled by the sudden touch, Y/N let out a soft whimper that was heard by Hongjoong. Looking over, his eyes immediately spotted what was the cause of her reaction.

"Seriously, couldn't even wait til we were behind closed doors?" Hongjoong let out a disappointed click of his tongue.

"Hey, you did say I was free to play with her as I liked. Besides, wanna make sure she stays as wet as possible cause as soon as the door is locked, I'm stuffing her full of cock."

Y/N's thighs squeezed themselves together after hearing him say that, the action not going unnoticed by both men at her sides.

"Just wait a little longer doll and I'll make sure you cum like you want to."

It seemed like forever until the doors finally opened to let them onto their floor. Knowing just how antsy the other two were about fucking each other, Hongjoong went up ahead of them and quickly slid the key in. Opening the door, he let them both inside first, a suspicious smile still on his face that confused his friend.

"You're enjoying this a little too much aren't you?" Seonghwa quirked an eyebrow up at him, his hands making a quick work of his shirt.

"Oh trust me when I say I'll enjoy it even more by the end of it." Hongjoong answered as he took a seat on one of the beds.

"I don't want you complaining later though if your little slut prefers my cock over yours." Seonghwa's little taunt had absolutely no effect on Hongjoong, he knew very well where his sweet heart's love resided with.

Turning around, Seonghwa was surprised yet also not surprised to see Y/N already naked on the bed, her legs spread out and inviting him to take advantage of her. Her facial expression seemed restless, eyes begging him to come over and end her torture already. Coming over to the front and seeing her more clearly, Seonghwa felt his cock twitch when he saw her full nude body, the light in the room letting him fully see all the details he couldn't quite clearly make out back in the car.

"Oh lord, she is absolute stunning Joong." Seonghwa complimented as he finished undressing himself, his cock already leaking at the tip.

"I did tell you once that younger babes were extremely hot and better. Well now you get to fuck my babe." Hongjoong's face proudly donned a satisfied expression at someone else appreciating his girlfriend.

Looking over at the dresser that had complementary goodies left for them, Seonghwa went and grabbed the pack of condoms since he hadn't planned on getting lucky that night.

"Ummm actually Seonghwa, I want you to fuck her raw, and be sure to spill your cum inside her."

His friend wasn't the only one who looked at him as if he was insane, Y/N was shocked by his request.

"N-no Daddy......" Her voice called out.

"Hmm? Why not princess?" Hongjoong smoked at her.

"My birth control ran out 2 weeks ago. If he cums inside me, I could....." She didn't even dare finish that sentence, but she knew they understand what she meant. Hongjoong however continued to look unfazed, in fact, his smile grew wider, almost to the point of being mischievous, which slightly worried her.

"Even better if I ask me princess, you see..... I want you to be bred." His confession both scared and aroused both of the other two participants.

"You've really lost your mind."

Giggling at his friend's words, Hongjoong looked at him with an assuring gaze.

"No I haven't. But trust me Seonghwa, I won't say anything, no one will know. Just do me this favor and fill my baby's pussy up with your cum."

When Seonghwa still hesitated, Hongjoong decided to persuade him even further.

"Look at her and tell me you don't want to stuff her young cunt full of your cum. And if you do knock her up, think of how cute she'll look with a swollen belly, carrying your child."

Unable to resist looking over after Hongjoong painted that image in his head, Seonghwa's gaze dropped towards Y/N's stomach. He unconsciously bit his lip as he thought about how fertile she probably was, and the thought of impregnating her with a baby of his own was driving him wild. Tearing down anymore hesitations he had, Seonghwa went back over to where she was. Y/N gasped when he pulled her towards the edge of the bed, hands keeping her legs open as he rubbed the tip of his cock against her folds.

"You ready to get knocked up with one of my babies?" He chaffed at her, smirking when a loud moan was drawled out by her as she pressed herself against his shaft even more.

"Cause I know I can't wait."

Letting out a piercing grunt when the cock of her professor penetrated deep inside her, Y/N's hands clutched at the sheets underneath her, whimpers already being poured out as Seonghwa's hips snapped roughly against hers. She shut her eyes as she sunk deeper and deeper into a blissful, euphoric haze, feeling nothing but how deep the cock inside her was being driven in, the head brushing against her cervix. That thought alone had her inner flesh pulsing and squeezing against the girthy shady tearing her apart, making her dizzy and blind with nothing but lust. She couldn't even register or hear all the sounds coming out of her own mouth.

"Such a nice and tight pussy. Keep clenching around me like that and it won't take long for me to fill you up with my seed." Seonghwa hissed, a hand dropping to rest on top of her stomach.

Y/N's back arched upwards, mouth fully agape as the most earth shattering wails were produced even heard by the rooms next to theirs.

"You enjoying this darling? Don't worry. You're certainly not the only one."

Clasping his fingers around her jaw, Seonghwa tilted Y/N's face so she could look over at the bed next to where they were. She spasmed violently when she took in the image of Hongjoong, sitting there shirtless, pants and briefs pulled down enough so he'd be able to pump his cock in his hand. When he had undressed, she didn't know, but she couldn't take her eyes off him, watching as he jerked himself off to the scene of his friend fucking her into the bed, the pace of his hand matching the pace set by Seonghwa's thrusts.

"Oh trust me she's enjoying this just fine. She's absolutely loving being treated as nothing more than a fuck toy, being lent to another man as her owner gets off on the sight of her being bred." Hongjoong's words were not helping as she started to tense up, feeling ready to explode and cum all over the thick cock inside of her.

"Please, please Mr. Park..." She muttered out, face turning towards him once again.

"Please what toy? Speak up." He commanded her as he started grinding his hips harder into her, the movements of his pelvis rubbing against her engorged clit and heightening her pleasure.

"Please let me cum. Wanna cum." She begged him, whine after whine being forced out of her each time Seonghwa pushed back into her body.

Feeling merciful, especially after edging her so much in the car, and more so because he felt himself about to shoot his load in her as well, Seonghwa moved his hand that was on her stomach so it could come down and rub aggressively at her clit.

"Go on baby. Cum for me so I can breed you like the little bitch you are."

Y/N toppled over the edge after hearing those dirty words, strangled cries and unintelligible words slipping out of her throat. She couldn't stop shaking underneath the older man that was fucking her, body out of control as it twisted and writhed from the sensuous oblivion she fell into. Desperate gasps scrambled for air as liquid gushed out of her to coat the dick that was still being driven in her.

"Oh fuck fuck! I'm going to cum inside your little hole now."

She barely registered the grunts being said by the person in front of her, her body only feeling and paying attention to the hot fluids being impelled to her womb. Knowing she was full of cum and it was extremely probable she'd be pregnant thrilled and excited her, while simultaneously making her anxious and nervous.

After finally catching his breath, Seonghwa pulled out of her, the cum that was leaking out of her threatening to make him hard again and fuck her once more just to see it all over again.

"Don't get any ideas." The warning voice of his friend brought him back to the reality that the young woman on the bed was only borrowed for the moment, and mostly due to the sick amusement of said friend.

Dressing himself up in his clothes, Seonghwa went over where Hongjoong was.

"Satisfied?"

Hongjoong snorted as he looked down at the tiny splatter of cum that had dripped into the carpet.

"Very much so."

Rolling his eyes, Seonghwa finished putting on the last of his clothes before picking up his phone. Seeing the time, he apologized and told Hongjoong he needed to get home right away.

"I'll take a cab. I'm sure you probably want some more time with her."

Hongjoong blushed a little at his friend's insinuation. Before Seonghwa could walk out the door, Hongjoong called out to him.

"Hey....say hi to your wife and kids for me."

Seonghwa couldn't help the laugh that bursted out his lips.

"I will. See you soon."

Closing the door, Hongjoong was finally left alone with his girl, who was currently sitting up, staring at him intently. Getting up from his seat, he came over to where she was and helped her stand up. Smoothing out some of her disheveled hair, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her lips, his free hand tilting her face up as he pressed his body closer to hers. Pulling away to soon for her liking, Y/N pouted at him as she wrapped her hands around his waist.

"Come on. We gotta get you cleaned up."

Taking her hand, he guided her inside the bathroom, where he sat her against the vanity counter. Noticing that she was still looking at him funny, Hongjoong tilted his head to the side and cupped her cheeks.

"What's wrong babygirl?" He mimicked her tiny pout, a feat he often did that tended to annoy her, making her feel as if she was a little child.

"Funny how you care so much about getting me pregnant, yet you get someone else to do the job for you."

Huffing loudly, she brushed past him to be able to get inside the shower, but she was quickly pulled back by one of his hands that slammed her back against the counter. Looking up, she was expecting to see an angry expression, but instead Hongjoong had a smirk that told her he was up to no good.

"Is that what's bothering you princess? The fact it wasn't me the one breeding you? Oh baby.."

Turning her around abruptly, Y/N gasped when he pried her legs open and pressed her chest against the cold marble counter. When she felt his dick come to live and poke at her ass, she immediately pressed her lower half out towards him, the action making Hongjoong get a smug expression.

"You really are the best girl kitten, offering yourself to me like the little slut you are."

Y/N felt her body getting hot once again when on of Hongjoong's hands caressed in between her thighs, running up dangerously close to her heat until he reached her entrance.

"Ok then kitten. Let's fill you up with my cum now, since you want it so much."

Being stuffed with a cock once more, Y/N clung onto the counter underneath her as Hongjoong was showing no mercy as he rammed into her from behind. He always did enjoy brutally fucking her until she was left sore and limping, something no one would have ever guessed given his stature being more on the shorter side. But he definitely made up for it with his experience in making a woman numb to everything except the feeling of his dick being pounded into their pussies, precisely the feeling Y/N was going through at the moment. Her head rested itself against the counter, unable to bear the overwhelming pleasure the man behind her was putting her through.

"Oh no no kitten. I'm having none of that."

Wrapping his hand around her hair and twisting it to a makeshift ponytail, Hongjoong forced her to look up into the mirror in front of her. The ravenous and almost beast like way his eyes stared at her made her weak, pussy contracting around his length as her legs started to wobble.

"Look at you, I want you to watch as I fuck you full of my cum. Look at how I'm going to knock you up with my kids."

Strangled panting was the only audible sounds Y/N could make out, through the mirror she could see that Hongjoong was falling into the same haze she was in. Releasing her hair, he wrapped his hand around so it could rest on the top of her belly button, gently caressing the soft skin there.

"You're such a good girl for letting me do this. You know I'll take care of you right?" His loving reassurance, followed by the light presses his lips made on the nape of her neck were making her go insane. Her mind was running wild with thoughts of Hongjoong getting her pregnant, such a risky and dangerous situation but she was ready for it.

"Hongjoong fill me up! Fuck a baby into me! I want it, I want your cum!"

Her desperate pleas had an immediate effect as Hongjoong pistoned his cock deeper in her, a few last powerful jolt of hips and he was filling her to the brim, her tight pussy making sure to milk him out of every last drop of cum he had in him. Feeling him spill inside her and seeing him throw his head back in pleasure through the mirror, Y/N followed not long afterwards, shockwaves rippling through her body in another intense orgasm. It was a miracle Hongjoong still had his hands around her hips to keep her from falling down to the ground due to the violent shake of her legs. Even after they had both calmed down, Hongjoong still stayed nestled inside of her, nose brushing against the back of her head, inhaling her scent passionately. He let out a tired hum as he buried his face into her neck.

"I love you so much." He admitted, which made Y/N smile.

"I love you too." She responded, turning her head to press a kiss on his temple.

"And I can't wait to carry your baby."

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chimchimsauce · 4 years ago

Text

Fairest

Is beauty a blessing or a curse? All of her life, princess YN was told that her beauty was the greatest gift her late mother ever gave her. But when her looks attract a man cruel and bloodthirsty, YN begins to think that her greatest asset is the beginning of her demise.

“Checkmate.”

YN cannot help the grin that spreads across her face as she utters the word, watching as her older brother groans with disdain.

“You always win!” he complains, acting very much like a child.

“That’s because you always get too caught up in the current move, dear brother. The future decisions are the most important ones.”

YN’s older brother, first in line to the throne of their small country Ameris, huffs and crosses his arms over his chest.

“Chess is like war. You get too focused on winning battles that cause you to lose the war. I certainly hope that won’t be the case for our kingdom . . .”

YN is only jesting. Her elder brother is an excellent leader and will make a wonderful king. He’s just really impatient with games.

“I’m sure I can beat you next round!” her brother says playfully.

They both know it’s unlikely, but YN clears the board and begins to set up another game. As she’s placing the last pawn, a knock comes at the door. One of her handmaidens opens it, revealing one of their father’s special guards.

YN’s breath catches ever so slightly before she schools her expression back into one of unbothered royalty. It’s always so hard to ignore her secret lover when other people are around, but she knows she must. A relationship between her and her father’s most trusted guard would cause a scandal that would undoubtedly get Wonho’s position revoked. He’s worked his entire life to get good enough for a spot on the King’s royal guard and there’s no way YN would do anything to sabotage that.

“His majesty has requested your presence,” Wonho says, not even looking YN in the eyes.

He’s much better at keeping his emotions in check.

YN’s brother stands, tapping his finger on the chessboard.

“Lucky thing I’m being summoned, or else I would have absolutely destroyed you in this game.”

YN laughs, maybe a little more politely than she would if Wonho wasn’t standing at the door.

“I’m sure of it,” she says, “Feel free to come back anytime to play again.”

YN’s brother nods and leaves her quarters, following after Wonho. Being the heir to the throne means that YN rarely gets to see her brother. He’ll be gone for weeks, sometimes months at a time as he tours the neighboring countries to learn everything he possibly can, as well as maintain a positive relationship with their allies. Ameris may be a small country, but it is located in the perfect spot for transcontinental trade and filled to the brim with valuable resources. One could dig in a mine for just a few moments and emerge with a diamond the size of a robin’s egg.

Thankfully, Ameris has not had any problems with its neighboring countries in hundreds of years. The last war was ended by YN’s great great great grandfather and peace has blanketed the region since then.

Well, for the most part. In the last several years, the Eastern kingdom of Moonbyss has been steadily expanding and taking over small, unclaimed villages. They have not breached any borders or broken any treaties, however, so there is no cause to worry quite yet.

YN sighs as her thoughts shift back to Wonho. Their secret love affair has been going on since they were teenagers. At first, Wonho was just an attractive boy who was willing to indulge her wanton fantasies, but soon enough an affection bloomed between them. It’s so hard to pretend not to be in love with him, especially when he grows more handsome by the day.

“Thinking about him, my lady?” YN’s lady in waiting, Irene, asks her.

Irene is YN’s closest confidant and friend. She knows almost everything about the princess. Ever since she arrived in the castle from abroad two years ago, they have been inseparable.

“Of course,” YN says, standing and walking over to the window that overlooks her private gardens.

She opens the glass door and steps outside, her skin warmed by the sunshine. It’s an absolutely beautiful day, cloudless and blue. Birds chirp sweetly and the scent of flowers wafts on the breeze. The princess stops at the fountain in the middle of the garden, sitting on the bench and looking into the bubbling water. YN often made wishes in this fountain when she was younger, tossing in coins that reflected the sunlight back at her. More recently, though, she’s only wished for one thing - to be with Wonho. Her father, although he loves her, would never allow a union between them. Her older brother, however, has promised to allow YN to marry whoever she desires once he takes the throne on his thirtieth birthday.

He does not know that someone already has her affections, but no matter. YN is not worried about being married off. While her brother is the only prince in the kingdom, the king was blessed with twelve daughters and YN is the youngest. Every available man of power in the kingdom and the surrounding countries have already been wedded.

YN has Irene bring her a book to read and she settles in, getting comfortable in her garden. The hours pass by quickly as she is sucked into the tale, but soon enough a shadow blocks her reading light.

The princess looks up and is shocked to see Wonho standing in front of her. Alarm flares up inside of her. The two of them have agreed to never be seen together in daylight.

“Won-”

“Your Majesty,” Wonho says stiffly, “The King requests an audience. I have been asked to escort you to the throne room.”

YN hesitates a moment. She can tell that something is wrong by the strain in his voice. Something must really be bothering him for the guard to allow it to leak into his words. She wants to ask him what’s wrong, but she never knows who is watching so she simply stands, handing her book off to Irene who stands beside her.

“Very well,” YN says, trailing after him and back into the castle.

He walks three paces in front of her, leaving her to stare at his back. So much about him has changed in the last few years. He’s gained an immense amount of muscle, something that YN has really grown to appreciate during their midnight endeavors. It’s a shame that everything is covered up by his uniform, but she must admit he looks dashing in it.

As they walk, YN notices that Wonho isn’t the only one acting strangely. The various maids and butlers who usually flit around and chatter pleasantly amongst themselves are dead silent, walking with perfectly straight backs and zipped mouths. The princess notices a few pitying looks tossed her way and something cold settles in her stomach.

What’s going on?

Wonho knocks on the throne room’s closed doors. They are ever so carefully opened a few moments later and Wonho leads YN into the grand room.

Her father sits on the throne, a smaller one empty next to him. It always makes YN sad to see her father by himself. The Queen passed away only a year ago and was her father’s closest friend. The late Queen was kind to everyone, even YN’s mother - a poor girl her father discovered in one of his hunting trips. Apparently, YN’s father was so taken with her mother that he simply had to add her to his harem and rarely visited any of his other concubines afterward. But it didn’t last long - YN’s mother died shortly after her birth. Everyone says that she left YN her ethereal beauty, a fact that led YN to being hidden away in the castle for the majority of her life.

“You’re the most valuable diamond in all of Ameris,” her father told her once, “It’s important that few people know of your existence.”

It had saddened YN when she was younger that she could not attend the lavish parties and balls like her elder sisters and brother, but she came not to mind once Wonho came into her life. It mattered not if other people thought she was beautiful - as long as Wonho desired her, that was more than enough.

Standing to her father’s side is YN’s brother. The jolly air that had surrounded him mere hours ago is gone completely now. He looks furious, an expression YN has rarely seen on his face. He’s looking at a man who stands before the throne, a crown placed perfectly on his head.

Visiting nobility?

The man turns as the click of YN’s heels sounds out against the marble flooring. YN’s step falters as a large, nearly terrifying grin spreads across his face. He is incredibly handsome, but the smile on his face does nothing but creepy the princess out.

“There she is,” he says, quickly extending his hand towards her.

YN, uncertain, looks at her father who gives her a stiff nod. Hesitantly, YN places her hand in the stranger’s grasp, making sure to school her expression as he places a cold kiss that lingers too long against her gloved hand. The princess has never been more glad to be wearing gloves.

“And who do I have the pleasure of meeting?” YN asks, careful to watch her throne.

“King Seokjin Moonbyss, your highness. I must say, the rumors of your beauty do you no justice. You’re much more radiant in person.”

YN’s blood freezes in her veins. This cannot mean anything good.

“Thank you,” YN says, a slight tremble in her voice.

The man has still not released her hand.

“YN,” her father says, giving her an excuse to look away from this man - no, this monster - beside her, “King Seokjin has asked for your hand.”

YN barely squashes the shout of protest that so desperately wants to escape her throat. There’s no way this can be happening! No way! Her eldest brother is just three years shy of taking the throne, three years more of having to tiptoe around with Wonho. No way she can get married, especially to someone from so far away.

“Excuse me,” Wonho says, speaking up from his place behind YN, “I thought King Seokjin was already married.”

Relief flows through YN. If Seokjin is already married, then surely this is an error.

“She failed to provide me with a male heir, so I had her disposed of,” King Seokjin says simply, glaring at Wonho, “Do not question me again.”

There is not a trace of remorse in his voice at all, nothing but anger.

YN begins to tremble.

“Father -” she begins.

“King Seokjin has made us an offer I cannot refuse,” he says, cutting her off, “And besides, YN, you’ll be able to be Queen. You never would have had that opportunity here.”

YN’s father would normally never make this sort of decision, especially not for the daughter he tried so hard to keep hidden.

“Of course, sweet YN,” King Seokjin says, “You are free to reject my offer if you so desire. I would, however, be forced to declare war on Ameris. After all, this country is the most resource rich of all the lands. It’s a shame. It would have been so much nicer to make a positive connection with this beautiful country. I wonder how much of its splendor will be left once my troops march through it.”

The threat is crystal clear. YN has to marry this King or her country will suffer for it. YN glances at her father and brother, seeing the fear that’s in their eyes. Ameris is much too small to fight Moonbyss and win, especially since the eastern country has been gaining a lot of territory very rapidly. YN swallows. In a matter of hours, her perfect daydream has been shattered.

“I would be honored to marry you, King Seokjin,” YN says, trying her hardest not to cry.

She can release her tears once she’s in the safety of her own chambers. She cannot show any weakness in front of this man.

“Beautiful and smart,” King Seokjin says, “It will be my honor to have you as my bride. After all, the most handsome man in all the world deserves the most beautiful bride of them all.”

YN never really thought much of her beauty. She’s always heard it was a blessing, the only one her mother ever left her, but right now it feels like a curse.

“I pray that you’ll join me for dinner this evening, my betrothed,” King Seokjin says.

“I would love to,” YN says even though the thought of having to spend even a single moment more in this man’s presence makes her want to hurl.

“You best retire to your quarters, my love. Your father and I have much to discuss before this evening. I’ll send someone for you when I’m ready.”

The dismissal is clear. YN turns swiftly and leaves the room, Wonho following closely behind her. She walks much too fast to be considered ladylike, but she does not give a damn, wanting to be as far away from the throne room as possible.

“YN, wait!” Wonho calls out to her.

He grasps her wrist, uncaring of who will see, and pulls her to his chest. As soon as the warmth of him touches her, YN loses all composure, breaking down and sobbing into his pristine uniform.

“Wonho,” she cries out, grasping him as close as she can, her fingers creasing the silk he wears, “I don’t want to be Queen! I want to marry you!”

YN feels something wet fall against her head. Based on the way his shoulders shake, Wonho is also crying. She hasn’t seen him shed a tear since one of his best friends was murdered on a mission.

“What are we going to do?” YN asks into his chest, her voice muffled, “I don’t think I can bear being apart from you, especially with someone as cruel as the King!”

“We’ll figure something out, YN, I promise,” Wonho says, pulling away just enough to give YN a salty kiss.

“At least once more,” YN says once their lips part, “I must have you at least once more.”

“Your wish is my command, princess,” Wonho says, pulling her along to her chambers.

The two fall into the sheets, both knowing that this is the last time despite desperately wanting to spend eternity together.

On the other side of the castle, Irene makes her way through the hallways, stopping at a grand door and knocking three times. No one answers, so she swings it open, prepared to wait for as long as it takes.

Maybe half an hour later, King Seokjin opens the door, looking quite pleased with himself. He doesn’t greet Irene, instead instantly walking over to her and pinning her against the wall, his lips meeting hers passionately. Irene barely has any time to catch her breath, but she doesn’t mind at all, too enamored with this man she knows is only using her.

When he was only a prince, Seokjin was infamous for being a womanizer. All too often, he lured servants and noble girls alike into his chambers, whispering promises and pressing kisses against their skin only to leave them abandoned like trash when he grew bored of them. Irene was one of those servant girls, but Seokjin has kept her around for longer than most. A part of Irene is convinced it’s because she’s special to him, but she knows it’s really not true.

Seokjin has been obsessed with YN, the secret twelfth princess of Ameris for five years now. Ever since he spotted her while visiting Ameris with his late father, he wanted her - needed her. After all, she’s the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, trying as he might to find another. His late wife was incredibly beautiful as well, but she didn’t compare to YN. No one else was worthy of her but him. It was YN that drove him to murder his own father and take the throne before he was supposed to. After all, Seokjin has never been a patient man.

Seokjin pulls away from Irene, looking unbothered as ever.

“No good,” he says, “Simply imagining that you’re YN does nothing. I’m tired of waiting.”

His words sting Irene’s heart. She tries not to be bitter, but jealousy is a powerful emotion, one that overshadows the genuine affection she feels for princess YN.

“Well,” the King asks her, “Who is it? The one YN claims to be in love with.”

The King rolls his eyes, gripping his fists tightly. How dare YN love another when he’s already claimed her.

“It’s Wonho,” Irene says, pushing down her feelings, “the guard that accompanied her today.”

“A guard huh? How dare he think he deserves someone as beautiful as YN!” he says, furious.

Seokjin is terrifying when he’s angry. Irene tenses, preparing for the worst. Instead of gripping her hair and tossing her to the floor like he usually does, Seokjin grabs a decorative vase and tosses it against the ground, watching as it shatters into a million pieces.

“You didn’t strike me,” Irene says, shocked.

“I have been practicing,” the King says, “After all, it would be a shame to make a single mark on YN’s perfect body.”

Much too soon, Irene is knocking on YN’s private chamber door.

“Your majesty,” she calls out softly, “Your betrothed has requested your presence.”

YN rolls over to Wonho, tears in her eyes. He blinks them away, wanting to remember this moment clearly.

“One moment,” YN calls out, listening as Irene walks away.

“Run away with me,” YN pleads, her voice desperate.

“You know we can’t,” Wonho says, his eyes sad.

“Yes we can!” YN insists, “You know this country better than anyone. We can get up right now and flee and -”

“YN,” Wonho says, “What about the country? You know we’ll be forced to go to war if you disappear.”

YN sniffles.

“I don’t think I can live without you,” YN confessed, “And if I can, I don’t want to find out.”

Wonho is silent for a moment before he sits up, an idea in his mind.

“What? What is it?” YN asks him.

“What if you didn’t?”

“What?”

“What if you didn’t have to live without me? I’ve heard rumors amongst the staff of a poison you can take that will put you in a deep slumber for a fortnight. If some was mixed into your dinner tonight, it can seem that you’ve been poisoned and passed away. Then when you awake, you and I can disappear together.”

YN brightens. Even though being unconscious for a fortnight doesn’t sound pleasant, anything will be better than having to marry KIng Seokjin. Besides, she trusts Wonho with her life.

“Okay,” YN says, agreeing right away.

“Are you sure, YN?” Wonho asks her, “You will end up getting rather sick for a few days before the slumber.”

YN nods eagerly.

“Yes, anything,” she says.

“Very well.”

Wonho hops out of bed, pulling on his clothes as quickly as he possibly can.

“I’ll get everything ready. YN, go to dinner with the king, alright? I won’t be able to see you after this so as not to arouse suspicion. I love you, princess.”

He leans down to kiss her.

“I love you more,” YN says, watching as Wonho slips out of a glass door and into the gardens.

Unbeknownst to the lovers, King Seokjin is outside the door, his ear pressed against it to hear everything. He had come to escort his beloved like a sweet fiance would, only to hear his to be wife scheming to get away from him.

He’s never been so angry, but he suppressed it, not wanting to let YN know that he’s been here. He grabs Irene by the arm roughly and leads her out into the hallway, bending over to whisper in her ear.

“Make sure to add enough of the poison to YN’s food to keep her under for longer than a fortnight. Put as much of it in as you can without bringing her to the brink of death.”

“Are you sure your -”

Irene’s question is cut off when he backhands her, one of his elegant rings drawing blood.

“Do NOT question me!” he says, “Do as I order!”

Irene rushes off to do as the King says, tears brimming in her eyes. She’s never regretted being Seokjin’s spy until now, too blinded by love. She should have warned YN, should have helped her disappear with Wonho - someone Irene knows truly loves the princess. King Seokjin is just obsessed with her beauty and determined to own her like she’s some sort of object to be bought and sold.

Peeking around the corner, Irene sees Wonho pouring a liquid into the soup bowl meant for the princess. When he leaves and when the coast is clear, Irene snatches the vial from the counter and empties the rest of it into other dishes reserved for the princess before refilling the vial with water and placing it back where Wonho left it.

“YN, I’m so sorry,” she whispers to herself before fleeing into the night, never to be heard from again.

At dinner, YN pretends not to notice the odd taste in her food. It’s obviously been tampered with, but YN doesn’t let it show at all, eating properly and conversing with King Seokjin as much as she can bear. YN misses the look of glee in his eye as he drinks from his goblet, still believing that everything is going to plan.

YN starts feeling ill once the final course comes around. She quickly asks to be excused and King Seokjin offers to walk her back to her room. YN accepts, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to make it on her own with the way the room begins to spin.

For the next three days and nights, YN is in and out of consciousness, the world swirling around her in a nauseating mix of bright colors and fuzzy shapes. When she closes her eyes at midnight of the third day, her thoughts are on Wonho and the fact that the next time she opens them, she’ll be free to be with him.

But YN does not wake up. Not for a fortnight, not ever. Seokjin, furious, intends to find Irene and hang her for murdering his beloved before realizing that she’s nowhere to be found. It’s easy enough to frame Wonho for her murder and a matter of hours after YN dies, Wonho follows her from the gallows.

At his request, YN is preserved and dressed in a wonderful white wedding gown, still looking very much alive. He marries her anyway and has her crowned, determined to have her even in death. She’s too beautiful to be buried underground, so he commissions a glass coffin to display her in, putting her corpse in his bedroom where no one else can see her. King Seokjin finds that he does not mind YN being dead. She’s much less bothersome in passing, much easier to fall to his will.

King Seokjin stands before her, placing his hand flat against the cool glass of her coffin. Even in death, YN is the fairest of them all.

#yandere bts #yandere x reader #kim seokjin x reader #wonho x reader #bts angst #bts oneshot #kim seokjin #seokjin ff

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tsukishumai · 4 years ago

Text

pairing: miya osamu x gn!reader genre: fluff, strangers to lovers, slow burn word count: 3.2k summary: In which Osamu finds that the stranger lurking outside his store window has a connection to his restaurant that he could have never expected.

Osamu remembers every single face that has walked through the doors of Onigiri Miya since the day they’ve opened. He has yet to hire another worker, manning all stations of his business himself. The rush hours always provided him with a bit of a heavy work load, but Osamu has learned a lot about diligence and patience. Business had been good enough; traffic was steady throughout the day, and he had his fair share of regulars whose orders he had already memorized.

The stuffy, salt-and-pepper haired man in the pressed three-piece suit always ordered two umeboshi onigiri and a medium iced green tea. The kind old woman that ran the shop across the street would come in for his salted salmon, and if he had extra, Osamu would throw in an extra tuna mayo. She’d always smile and give him a pat on the shoulder, her eyes crinkling in a way that reminded Osamu of his grandmother.

It was when the shopkeeper had slowly walked out of his establishment and back to her own that Osamu noticed you standing a few feet away from his storefront. You had been wearing a face mask, but Osamu could see that you were staring at his sign. Your eyes squinted at the block letters that looked down at you, before they trailed down to land directly on Osamu. You seemed a little startled at the fact that his eyes were already staring at you, but you were standing outside his restaurant, weren’t you?

Before he could lift a hand to wave you in, you quickly turned and walked away.

Every few days, either during the dinner or lunch rush, Osamu would catch a glimpse of you outside of his restaurant. You’d stare at his sign for a few seconds; maybe glance at the menu board that stood a few feet away from his entrance, or look at the pictures of his full menu taped to the restaurant window. he would see the way you studied each item, yet you always walked the opposite direction.

It bothered Osamu. Why didn’t you want to come in? Did his menu look boring? Was his sign uninviting? Is his decoration too traditional? Should he have made it look a little more modern? He grumbled to himself about it each time you peeked in, and walked away. Why do you bother coming so often if you didn’t want to try his food? Osamu huffed.

It wasn’t until four weeks later, when Osamu had posted three brand new flavors on his menu board that you finally deemed his restaurant worthy enough to step in.

You had stopped by a little bit later than usual today, the dinner rush had come and gone, and the only ones left in the restaurant were you and Osamu. He stood patiently waiting behind his counter, desperately trying to look busy and as if he hasn’t been waiting for this moment for weeks.

He waited until you were close enough to his counter to say his greetings. You nodded at him in acknowledgment, taking a seat at the bar in front of him. He handed you a menu, and your eyes roved over the words as if they hadn’t done so dozens of times prior.

“Can I get ya anything to drink?” He asked, and you took off the baseball cap you had been wearing, setting it down on the counter beside you. Your finger hooks along the ear loop of your face mask and Osamu realizes he’s seeing your face for the first time. You place the piece of cloth in your pocket, and Osamu fights the heat across his cheeks.

“Just water,” you said, and Osamu was quick to set a fresh glass down in front of you.

“What’ll it be?” He asked after a few moments, adjusting the bill of his hat and settling his hand on his hip.

You hum a little, tapping your finger against your lips before you reply. “I’ll have the combo #2 with the gyoza.”

Osamu nodded, “What two flavors onigiri would you like?”

“For the first one, I’ll have your most popular flavor,” you say, before closing the menu and handing it back to him, “I’ll let you choose the second one.”

Osamu raised an eyebrow at your odd request, but nods anyway, putting the menu away and walking back to give his hands a quick wash.

He begins to gather his ingredients when he noticed you take out a notepad and a pen from your bag, placing it on the counter in front of your water.

“So,” he says, starting the process of making his number one seller (salted salmon), “What was it?”

“Excuse me?” You asked, pausing the drink that was half way to your lips. “What was what?”

“Well, ya stood outside for weeks, so I gotta know,” Osamu said, placing the delicate filling into the ball of rice he was kneading in his palm, “What made ya decide to finally come in?”

You tightened your lips, awkwardly setting the cup back down on the counter and placing a palm on your forehead.

“I was that obvious?”

“Were ya trying not to be?” He laughed, looking at you expectantly.

“It was the flavors on your board,” you finally replied, leaning back in your seat, “There was one that my grandfather used to make.”

Osamu smiled to himself, wrapping his first finished onigiri in the seaweed he had roasted earlier that day, placing it gently on a serving platter and moving over to make the next rice ball.

“That’s a coincidence,” Osamu said, “Your grandfather must have had great taste.”

“He used to own a restaurant,” you blurted out, and Osamu hummed.

“You’re kidding,” he said, “Whereabouts?”

You nibbled on your bottom lip, shifting your eyes side to side as if debating on whether you wanted to divulge him in your greatest secret. Eventually, you leaned forward, resting your elbow on the counter and placing your chin in your palm. “Actually, it was this one.”

Osamu’s fingers froze. “Ya don’t mean—?”

You nodded excitedly. Osamu lets out a scoff. “Now you’re just messin’ with me.”

“No, I swear!” A bright smile erupted across your cheeks as you jumped a little in your seat, “My grandparents used to own this restaurant.”

“I thought this was a boutique before I bought it?” Osamu questioned, putting his final touches on the second rice ball.

“It was,” you agreed, taking a sip from your water, “They owned this place until I was in high school, and sold it before they retired somewhere in the mountains. It’s been a few different stores since, but this is the first time it’s become a restaurant again. I was pretty surprised when I first saw it.”

Osamu felt an odd sensation of pride began to brew in his chest, shown in the way he sprinkled his sesame seeds a little extra forcefully.

“Well,” he said, placing the plate of two perfect onigiri right on the counter in front of you, “I hope I do this place some justice.”

You smiled, and Osamu found himself smiling with you. He pointed out the shake on the left, and the surprise flavor on the right. You nodded, intrigued, picking up the onigiri lying on the left side.

Osamu makes the gyoza while you take your first bite, nearly pumping his fist in victory when he sees you close your eyes in satisfaction, the tension he didn’t even know you carried slowly melting from your shoulders. He sees you quickly jot down comments on the notepad next to you, and Osamu tries to peek at what you wrote when he gives you the gyoza.

“Ya jottin’ down comments about my food?” He joked, and you jumped a little at his voice, “Got any suggestions, then?”

You smile sheepishly, “It’s just a little hobby of mine.”

He nods, grabbing a towel and wiping down the counter that he had just used. “Well, ya let me know if ya need anything else.”

“It’s just you working tonight?” You ask, grabbing your chopsticks and picking up a piece of gyoza.

“It’s just me every night,” he chuckled.

Your eyes widened as you chewed on your food, swallowing with a loud gulp.

“Doesn’t that get exhausting?” You ask, quickly jotting down your notes before diverting your attention back to him.

Osamu just shrugged. “I poured my everything into something I didn’t love half as much as cooking. This is just how I know how to do things.”

You tilted your head to the side, “What did you do before this?”

Osamu takes a deep breath as he lifts his hat up a little bit to ruffle his fingers through his hair. He flips the cap around and puts it on backwards, his vision no longer half covered by the bill of his hat and he can now look at you fully. He almost wants to laugh because no one has ever asked him that version of this question before. It was always, ‘What are you going to be doing after volleyball?’

He hated the fact that any answer other than ‘I’m going to play professionally’ was deemed a shame, or a waste. For Osamu, he didn’t want to waste another second not pursuing his passion.

So it was refreshing to tell you about volleyball as if it was just a footnote in his food journey; something that he had done prior to finally recognizing his actual potential.

You gawked at him in disbelief, “Volleyball? Were you even any good?”

Osamu actually recoiled in offense, “I’ll have ya know I was on a team that went to nationals three years in a row.”

You raised your eyebrows appreciatively, and Osamu straightened a little.

“So why food?” You question him again, and Osamu wonders if you’re always this inquisitive. He’s answered this question hundreds of times, swore up and down that he would shoot the next person that even dared to say ‘Why food?’ in front of him. Yet for some reason, he felt more than happy to divulge you.

“Because food is more than just something ya eat when you’re hungry. It’s coming back from a long trip, and it’s the warmth that spreads through your body when ya eat your mom’s cooking for the first time. That taste of victory that spreads across your tongue when ya go out for a meal with your pals after a game. The sensation of closing your eyes in satisfaction when ya take a bite out of a fresh onigiri after a long day,” you pause your scribbles at that moment, looking up to shoot him a playful glare. Osamu chuckled and continued, “It’s laughter shared around the table, and memories made over a plate that makes food more than just nourishment for our body, but also for our soul.”

Osamu feels his cheeks heat up as he finishes his speech, embarrassment beginning to sink in at the end of his long tangent. You looked at him with a soft look on your face as you finished the last bite of your first onigiri, and dusted your fingers from any stray grains of rice.

“Words to live by,” you commented, lifting your glass of water up in agreement before tilting it back for a drink.

He let out a breath of relief that lasted only a second when he saw you reach over to pick up the onigiri with toppings he picked out for you. He held his breath as you took a bite, not expecting to see your eyes widen so fast, snapping your head down to the innocent rice ball that now sported a bite mark.

“Shio kombu cheese?” you say hurriedly, holding the onigiri closer to your face.

Osamu steps forward, “Do ya like it?”

You take another bite, chewing slowly, savoring the flavors as they melded in your mouth, and your eyes nearly begin to water.

“I never thought someone other than my grandfather would be weird enough to come up with this,” you laughed, scarfing down the rice ball in less than two seconds. “Yet here it is.”

“It’s not weird,” he defended, “It’s refined.”

You laugh as you dive into a story from your childhood spent sitting in this exact restaurant. Osamu listens intently as you recount how many different failed recipes your grandfather had forced you to ty and review, helping him decide what to put on the menu, or which combinations would bring in the businessmen that always seemed to just walk passed the restaurant.

He tells you of the tantrum his brother threw when he told him he was quitting volleyball, but still, Atsumu was his first sale. You pester him about his secret ingredient, and give him an incredulous look when he says it’s the rice. (“My old volleyball captain is a rice farmer.” “… what an interesting volleyball team.”)

The furniture was different, and the lay out was unfamiliar, but the atmosphere around Osamu’s counter had brought you right back into your childhood, reminding you of all the reasons why you loved what you did in the first place.

Long after your plates had been emptied, and the hour hand on the clock had extended way passed closing time, you finally paid for your meal, stood up from your seat and prepared to take your leave.

“Thank you for the meal, and the conversation,” you lean forward to read his name tag, “Miya-san.”

“Osamu,” he corrects, and raises an eyebrow at you.

You tell him your name, and Osamu repeats it in his mind over and over again.

“Come back soon,” he calls out his usual greeting as you walked out the door, but it felt different when he said it to you.

“I will,” you smile, waving a hand before stepping into the night, leaving Osamu with a dizzy head and fluttering stomach.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

In the following weeks since his late night encounter with you, Onigiri Miya had ceased to be a simple stop along someone’s route to work, or an afterthought on the way home.

One could imagine Osamu’s surprise when he arrived an hour and half before he was due to open, and already a line began to form down the sidewalk. He thought, perhaps it was a fluke, or maybe there was some sort of business convention in town nearby – something to explain the sudden spike in popularity.

Yet day after day, the crowds of people came to him by the dozens, climbing over each other to get a taste of his cooking. He couldn’t stop to wonder how long this was going to last, barely having the time to stop and give himself a break.

He finally realizes it’s not merely coincidence when the lines get longer, yet the faces he sees stay the same. Osamu remembers every single face that walks through the doors of Onigiri Miya, and it’s the ones that he sees over and over that truly give his restaurant its meaning.

The last customer of the dinner rush left thirty minutes ago when Osamu’s phone rang.

“‘llo,” he greets, sandwiching the phone between his ear and shoulder as he sweeps the floor, thinking about how he needed to start looking for someone to hire.

“Hey, asshole,” the voice of his twin comes through loud and clear, “When were ya gonna tell me ya invited that food blogger to your restaurant? And how the hell did ya get them to like your garbage cooking?”

Osamu stops in confusion, grabbing the phone and holding it up himself. “Did ya finally get hit in the head a little too hard at practice? What the hell are ya talking about?”

Atsumu curses at Osamu, telling him to hold on a second as he sends him the link.

Osamu pulls the phone away from his ear for a second, quickly pressing on the blue url that popped up from Atsumu’s chat bubble.

It took a second for it to load, but when it did, Osamu’s jaw dropped

ONIGIRI MIYA IS AN ONIGIRI MUST HAVE by L/N Y/N

Beneath the obnoxious title was a photo of his sign, shining brightly against the wooden panels of his building, looking very much like a beacon for those searching for the perfect plate.

“Your shop is all over the internet and I had to find out about it on my news feed?! What the hell kinda brother are ya...”

Atsumu’s voice faded into the background as Osamu read the flattering words you had written about his restaurant. You complimented the decoration he had been insecure about, and he chuckled at the way you had described the fluffiness of his rice. He was captivated by your use of prose, painting the perfect picture of exactly everything he wanted his food to convey.

It wasn’t until he got to the last paragraph when he felt his breath hitch in his throat.

Though the years have passed, and the season have changed, the sentimentality of this particular shop had never lost its meaning for me. For the first time in years, I felt the soul of my grandfather, the curator of my inspiration and passion, all around the atmosphere of what is now Onigiri Miya. I have every faith that the new owner has already done him justice.

“Excuse me, are you still open?”

Osamu tore his eyes away from the screen, the very author of the only review that will ever matter to him stood a mere few feet away from his counter.

“Call you later, Tsumu,” he said hurriedly.

“Hey, wh—“

Osamu slips his phone back into his pocket, turning his attention back to you. You had a cheeky smile on your face as you waited patiently.

“Welcome to Onigiri Miya,” he says dryly, and you laugh at his tone.

“Should you be on your phone while you’re on the clock?” You joke as you settle in the same seat you occupied the last time you paid him a visit.

“I don’t know,” Osamu crosses his arms, “Should ya be writing articles about people without telling em?”

You winced a little at his words, holding your hands up in surrender. “You saw it then?”

Osamu nodded.

You looked to the side, rubbing the side of your arm. “Did you like what I wrote?”

Osamu smiled, uncrossing his arms and walking to the back to wash his hands. You watch him curiously as he walked back to you, and pointed to a spot on the wall directly to your right.

“That’s where I’m gonna put it,” he said, “when I print it out and frame it.”

You laughed at the seriousness of his face, and he smirked in satisfaction.

You ordered the combo #2 with a side of gyoza, letting Osamu pick the two flavors. You mentioned how you tried to visit a couple of times, but the line was always so far out the door. He realizes that he has you to thank for that, and you blush deeply when he sincerely tells you so.

“So,” you say as you munch on the honey garlic pork onigiri he prepared, “Aren’t you glad you did this instead of boring, old volleyball?”

Osamu nearly chokes at the insult. “Volleyball is not boring.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says, clearing his throat, “Let me take you to a game some time. We can eat something other than rice balls.”

You look up from the half eaten onigiri at the chef who made it so carefully, looking so bashful and nervous you couldn’t help but smile.

“Yeah. I would love that.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

thank you for reading! reblogs are highly appreciated <33

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theramenbandit · 4 years ago

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20 and 59 for the mashup au prompts. Any pairing that strikes your fancy :)

From this post here

Describe how I’ll combine them: Co-teachers to lovers via secret admirer shenanigans.

“And don’t forget, project drafts are due next Thursday.”

So far, so good, Lena thinks as she gathers up her belongings and heads out the door of her first class of the day. She likes it here in Midvale. It’s a lot slower, a lot quieter, a lot--

Force, mass, velocity, something bumps into her hard.

“Oh shoot! I am so sorry. Here…”

The woman who apparently was the thing that bumped into her bends down and picks her things up off the floor.

Lena is, of course, properly miffed and halfway to a firm scolding until the woman straightens up again and Lena forgets how talking works for a moment.

Her hair is flowing in golden locks and the bluest eyes she had ever seen are looking at her from behind dark-rimmed glasses.

“Wait, you’re the new girl, right? Lena from Metropolis?”

“Yes,” Lena clears her throat. “Yes, that’s me.”

“Sorry about that,” the woman says nervously. “Let me make it up to you. Lunch in the hall at lunchtime?”

Lena should say no. She’s not here to make friends. But the blonde is cute and her shoulders are...nice. So…

“Okay.”

The blonde gives her a thumbs up and turns to leave, but quickly turns around and jogs back to where Lena is standing mutely.

“It’s Kara, by the way.” She extends a hand towards Lena in introduction. “Kara Danvers. I teach English.”

Ao3

Kara Danvers takes it upon herself to be Lena from Metropolis’ first ever official work friend.

Lena loses a fight with the coffee maker. She’d been having a bad day already, see. Her mother had called this morning, so naturally, by the time the damn machine stopped working, she was on the brink of tears.

“Hey there, is everything alright?” Kara asks cautiously as she walks into the break area.

“Everything is fucking dandy, thanks.” Lena growls, angrily swiping a hand at her eyes.

“Whoa, okay… You know, Noonan’s is right over there and your next class isn’t til 3, we could--”

“How did you know that?”

Kara casually points to the schedule on the board behind her.

Lena only growls again.

“Okay, you’re really wound up. Come on, a walk could do you some good.”

Kara learns that Lena is here as a middle school science teacher because she wants to prove something to her mother. And the pressure is getting to her.

“Sometimes you don't have to do amazing, just have to do your best.” Kara says reasonably. “Look, you're great and your students love you. So don't worry about what your mother says. Judge your work by the proper standard or... something.”

Lena chuckles at that. Kara was probably right.

"Thank you. I… I really needed that."

Kara nods sagely and continues to sip at her iced coffee. "What are friends for?"

The note is simple and plain and handwritten and she has absolutely no idea what it means. Or who it’s from, for that matter.

It’s, well... It’s notes. The note contains notes. That much she can suppose from the five lines and the G-clef and the black dots staring back at her. She looks around for anyone who might have left it there by accident, but she’s alone in the faculty room. What’s more, the note is wedged between the pages of her lesson plan for today, the only thing currently lying on her desk. Frowning, she looks back down at the small piece of paper and shoves it into one of her drawers. She’ll decide what to do with it later.

The note notes are piling up now and she thinks this might be something worth investigating. She'd gotten three more over the last week, each with the same handwriting and the same paper, but the notes on the staff (she does know some things) seemed to be different every time. She lines them up in order of the dates she got them and squints intensely at them, daring the offending dots to tell her what the hell is going on.

Kara's eyes widen in horror when she walks into the faculty room and sees Lena glaring at the notes.

Her notes.

She quickly makes to get out again but Lena's already seen her.

"Kara, hey!"

Shit.

"Hi, what's up?" the blonde responds, her voice suddenly pitchy.

"Can you help me figure this out?" She scoots over as Kara leans into her space and over her desk.

"Oh, they're notes," Kara tries nonchalantly.

"I can see that," Lena deadpans. "Notes to what?"

"Ehm, well this is a G, and this is a D… That's an E minor… It's a song."

Lena fights the urge to dramatically roll her eyes. "Do you know what song it is?"

Dammit, this is wonderful.

"It could be any song, Lena."

She's still trying to dodge it but Lena is adamant. And Kara doesn't want to lie, but she doesn't want to be found out, either.

"Uh... I could play it and maybe we can figure it out?"

"Okay, let's try that."

The music room is empty, much to Kara's eternal chagrin, so she and Lena walk up to the piano and she starts to play the notes that Lena holds up in front of her.

"It's Elvis," Kara says simply.

Lena soon recognizes the tune and starts to hum along with the keys. Just then, Kara slowly looks up from her seat and is mesmerized by the sight: the light is hitting Lena's face just so, illuminating the lines of her jaw, the curve of her lips, the dark red of her hair. She wishes she could stay in this moment forever. And if Lena were paying attention, she would notice that Kara wasn't even looking at the notes anymore. She was playing by heart.

"Oh, that's sweet," Lena whispers when the tune is done. "And you never told me you could play."

"My dad taught me the basics. The rest I figured out myself," Kara says quietly.

"Aren't you full of surprises?"

"It might be Mike, you know, that guy from the marching band? He is objectively good looking."

"He chews with his mouth open."

"Ooh, could it be Jack from phys ed?" He walks around with a guitar most Fridays."

"Lena, Jack is so gay for the bar owner and you know it."

"Well, who could it be?"

Me, Kara wants to say. But she doesn't. She doesn't want to make things weird.

They're sitting on the bleachers during the afternoon break, Lena leaning into her side munching on the donuts Kara had gotten for them. It wasn't hard for them to fall into this sort of easy companionship. Kara was open and friendly, and Lena, once her walls had gone down, was sharp and fascinating. And Kara fears that the feelings she's developed might ruin whatever this was that they had. So instead of being honest with herself, she just shrugs and bites sullenly into her own donut.

"It could be anyone."

People are starting to notice how often they are together, start talking about how cute they look next to each other. And so people waste no time in throwing them into each other's paths, especially since prom is three days away.

“Come ON, Lena!” Kara yells as she grabs Lena’s hand and drags her to the dance floor. Lena tries her best until she isn’t so much trying as she is struggling to keep up with Kara, who seems to have only got more hyper as the night wore on. But the joy on her face is infectious, and honestly, if she got to see this every day, Lena wouldn’t mind.

The song ends and the band’s vocalist approaches the mic.

"Hey, hey, everybody, y’all having a good time?”

The crowd whoops in affirmation.

“Alright! Well I think it’s about the proper hour, so we’re gonna slow things down a bit starting with a classic.”

The opening strains of a piano-driven ballad fill the air, and Kara politely extends a hand towards Lena.

Lena accepts.

Wise men say only fools rush in / But I can’t help falling in love with you

The world around them dissolves as they sway together, Kara’s hand gentle against the small of Lena’s back, Lena’s arm reaching up behind Kara’s shoulder.

“It’s Elvis,” Kara whispers against her hair.

“It was you,” Lena chuckles in response.

“You knew?” Kara says as she draws back to look at her.

“No. But I was kinda hoping.” She smiles warmly and Kara has never seen anything more beautiful in her life.

“You’re not mad?”

“Darling, why would I be mad?” Lena lifts her hand to brush it across Kara’s cheek. “You had me at Oh Shoot."

Kara laughs as she ducks her head in embarrassment and Lena cannot help but join her.

"I'd really like to kiss you right now."

"Please do."

#Full disclosure i have zero experience with teacher AUs #Like i was legit scared when this landed in my inbox #But i had fun doing this and it was a good brain stretch #so thank you spicycheeser for the challenge and i hope this was to your liking #i went with sc bcs why not #20 teacher au #59 interrupted declaration of love #RBmicrofics #writing tag #word count #1476 #supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #supergirl

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beepboop358 · 3 years ago

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A Prom in S4 Theory & Music Coding Predictions

Some leaked set pics indicate that there MAY BE a junior/senior prom at Hawkins High, which they are calling the "Lover's Ball". It's unclear if this prom will be included on screen, or if it will just be mentioned as an event coming up at Hawkins High because this flyer could just extra set decor. Regardless if the prom happens on screen or not, there will probably be some tension about 'who's asking who' to the prom that we will see in s4. Given that this picture was just leaked a few weeks ago, it probably falls closer to the end of the season sequentially.

Having a big school dance in s4 is suspiciously close to how they had the Snowball scene in s2. This would certainly follow the even/odd season patterns, (and actually add to the list of the patterns), which kind of makes me think we will see this prom on screen, or at the very least it will be mentioned in the course of the season.

The Duffer Brothers love Steven King and reference his work and especially 'IT' a lot in the show, but they haven't done anything with Carrie yet so maybe we will get a Carrie moment this season at the prom...

Carrie was on the video store fridays movie inspiration board for ST4.

At the "Lover's Ball", there will be definitely be some music coding relating to Byler. Since music coding is kind of a key thing in the show, I've been rifling through 80's songs to try and find some that may fit with s4's themes/character storylines (and I may do a seperate post about that later), but for this post I'm just gonna focus on what they might use at the prom for relating to Byler.

Since the season is most likely going to take place in 1986, I only selected songs that had a compatible release year so it would be historically accurate. (these songs would also be great for a byler playlist!)

Some strong contenders for the songs that might play at the prom to reference Mike and Will's relationship could be:

"True Colors" by Cyndi Lauper (1986)

This song is honestly too good of an option for them not to use. I'm reallllyyy crossing my fingers for this one.

It's hard to take courage In a world full of people You can lose sight of it all And the darkness inside you Can make you feel so small

"And I see your true colors Shining through I see your true colors And that's why I love you So don't be afraid (don't be afraid) To let them show your true colors True colors are beautiful (you're beautiful, oh) Like a rainbow Oh oh oh oh oh like a rainbow"

If this world makes you crazy And you've taken all you can bear You call me up Because you know I'll be there

"Heaven" by Bryan Adams (1984)

This first verse is literally just the story of Byler... 😭 The rest of the song applies but that verse verse is just sooooo accurate. (I'm crossing my fingers for this one too)

"Oh thinkin' about all our younger years There was only you and me We were young and wild and free Now nothing can take you away from me We've been down that road before But that's over now You keep me comin' back for more

Baby you're all that I want When you're lyin' here in my arms I'm findin' it hard to believe We're in heaven And love is all that I need And I found it there in your heart Isn't too hard to see We're in heaven

Oh once in your life you find someone Who will turn your world around Bring you up when you're feelin' down Yeah nothin' can change what you mean to me Oh there's lots that I could say But just hold me now 'Cause our love will light the way"

"Take My Breath Away" by Berlin (1986)

This song is on Will's Spotify playlist, and I thought it could also be used at the prom since it's a romantic song. I see it as an 'entrance to the prom' moment song, almost like a 'first look' - like the Mike and El moment at the snowball when she first walks in, but with Mike and Will this time. I think the lyrics clearly hint to this kind of 'first look' moment as well.

"Watchin' every motion in my foolish lover's game On this endless ocean, finally lovers know no shame Turning and returning to some secret place inside Watchin' in slow motion as you turn around and say...take my breath away"

Watchin' every motion in this foolish lover's game Haunted by the notion, somewhere there's a love in flames Turning and returning to some secret place inside Watchin' in slow motion as you turn my way and say...take my breath away"

"In The Air Tonight" by Phil Collins (1981)

This song was originally meant to be included in the snowball scene from s2, but it ultimately was not used and "Every Breath You Take" was used for this scene instead. Since it was intended to be a part of the s2 dance, that's why I think it may be used at the prom this season. (you can read the scripts on 8flix)

——— I forgot to include this explanation originally BUT, I think this song might be used to show some anger/resentment between the two, and to show a decent amount of tension, depending on their development this season. Like maybe Mike is kind of leading Will on in private by continuing to initiate intimate scenes between them, but in public Mike is still trying to put on his “straight boy act” and kind of being a jackass about it, and this song could be used to show the tension between them that has caused.

"And I've been waiting for this moment, for all my life, (Oh lord)

Well, I was there and I saw what you did I saw it with my own two eyes So you can wipe off that grin, I know where you've been It's all been a pack of lies.

Well I remember, I remember don't worry How could I ever forget It's the first time, the last time we ever met But I know the reason why you keep this silence up

No you don't fool me The hurt doesn't show, but the pain still grows It's no stranger to you and me"

"In Your Eyes" by Peter Gabriel (1986)

Some of the lyrics in this song just SCREAMS byler, just look at the 1st, 2nd and 4th paragraphs. I would be suprised if they didn't use this song in either s4/s5.

Love, I get so lost sometimes Days pass and this emptiness fills my heart When I want to run away I drive off in my car But whichever way I go I come back to the place you are

All my instincts, they return The grand facade, so soon will burn Without a noise, without my pride I reach out from the inside

In your eyes The light, the heat (in your eyes) I am complete (in your eyes) I see the doorway (in your eyes) To a thousand churches (in your eyes) The resolution (in your eyes) Of all the fruitless searches (in your eyes)

Love, I don't like to see so much pain So much wasted and this moment keeps slipping away I get so tired working so hard for our survival I look to the time with you to keep me awake and alive

"Heroes" by David Bowie (1975)

David Bowie was bisexual. A cover of his song “Heroes” is used in the show twice already, sung by Peter Gabriel. The song plays when they pull Will's fake body out of the water in season one and Mike cries in his Mom's arms, with some very queer-coded lyrics in the background, and after Hopper's letter in s3 (which is very Byler-centric)

"I will be king. And you, you will be queen 'Cause we're lovers, and that is a fact. Yes, we're lovers, and that is that. Though nothing will keep us together. We could steal time just for one day We can be heroes forever and ever. What d'you say? I, I wish I could swim, like dolphins, like dolphins could swim I, I can remember (I remember) Standing by the wall (By the wall) And the guns shot above our heads (Over our heads) And we kissed as though nothing could fall (Nothing could fall) And the shame was on the other side. Oh, we can beat them forever and ever. Then we could be heroes just for one day We're nothing, and nothing will help us Maybe we're lying, then you better not stay But we could be safer just for one day"

I just thought the above songs might be some highly likely possibilities given that they fit the year of the s4 and also make references to not only love, but the idea of hiding, pain, shame, longing, etc., and can make some (partially stretching here) references to other things in the show such as:

RAINBOWS and TRUE COLORS, SHINING THROUGH (rainbows imagery is always associated with Mike & Will in the show and a is symbol of lgbtq+ pride, True Colors shining through = who you really are on the inside finally coming out)

IF THIS WORLD MAKES YOU CRAZY ("crazy together", "only love makes you that crazy" and references the "world" motif in the show)

YOUNGER YEARS, ONLY YOU AND ME, YOUNG, WILD AND FREE (references "not wanting things to change" and wanting "to make things go how they were" part in Hopper's letter, and the "But we're not kids anymore" comment during the Byler fight)

ENDLESS OCEAN and SWIM, LIKE DOLPHINS (references water's significance in the show)

FLAMES (Will in front of the burning car in s4 teaser?)

LIES and LYING (Mike lying to El about how he feels)

INSTINCTS RETURNING, FACADES BURNING, WITHOUT MY PRIDE, I REACH OUT FROM THE INSIDE (Mike's feelings for Will are his instincts, the facade is the act he put on in s3 to seem straight, burning could reference Will & fire, and I think the last 2 lines of that 2nd verse reference vulnerability- perhaps in an apology/confession)

I GET SO LOST (confusion about his sexuality, feeling lost without the other) and SO MUCH WASTED TIME (known each other since kindergarten but were unaware the other felt the same way/was dealing with same things, they could have been even closer)

KINGS and QUEENS (the d&d game mike wrote where he has king Tristan give him a medal in s1)

STEALING TIME (references "turning back the clock, to make things go how they were" part in Hopper's letter and the time theme in s4 and time is central to the s4 plot)

AND WE KISS - AND THE SHAME (references the shame they both feel about being gay since it was so stigmatized in the 80's)

Byler @ Prom Possibilities:

If Mike and Will did dance together at the prom, they will probably get bullied because they live in a small conservative town. They will probably either run out, upset, or Eleven will step in to protect them which could lead to the Carrie moment.

Or Mike and Will will not dance together in the actual dance room, but instead sneak off to somewhere else in the school and have a private Byler dance moment where they can't be teased and it's just them together.

OR Mike and Will are still acting weird at this point in the season because neither of them is communicating what needs to be said out of fear, or one of them has confessed or done something to indicate how they feel, but the other hasn’t so everything is weird between them. There would be lots of tension from this and we would get lots of longing looks and adoring moments between the two of them from the sidelines. (I think this one is the most likely)

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swcetnight · 3 years ago

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It’s Definitely You || kth (m.) 1

synopsis:

Working as a barista in NYC has its perks, but when your ultimate dream of being on the Broadway stage tends to come crumbling down, the only thing that raises your spirits is the comfort of a complete stranger… who seems to have known you for far longer than you thought.

masterlist here

→ pairing: taehyung x barista!reader (also musical theatre performer cause I had to)

→ genre: fluff, angst, future smut | strangers(ish) to lovers… i won’t give the truth away... gonna have to read and find out for yourself ;))

-> warnings: self doubt, adorable plant names... there's really not many warnings for this chapter!

→ word count: 7,973

authors note:

alrighty everyone... here we go! (i’m so nervous) this is the first chapter of this series (which it took me 50 years to figure out whether I wanted this to be a series or a two shot... lets just say that it's gonna be a long one, so I think that a series is the best way to go)! this story is really near and dear to my heart, so 1. I really hope you enjoy it and 2. I hope all of you know how hard it was to write this into words... my goodness. now, make sure you look for clues throughout this series... there's a secret in here that won't be revealed for a while ;)) but if any of you have ideas, please be sure to send an ask while we wait to find out together! anyways, I hope you enjoy !!

authors thanks:

a HUGE thank you to @hantaev and @monvante for beta-reading and being so so supportive of me and this little (but not so little) story... y'all truly have no idea how helpful you've been and how thankful I am to be friends with both of you! forreal, y'all are the greatest and I'm sending you all my love!!

also, if you are enjoying this story, please don’t hesitate to send me an ask (on or off anon) and let me know your thoughts, feelings, theories, etc!! i would love to hear from all of you 🤍

If time-travel existed, you would be on the first time machine and head back to 2 years ago. A time when you had a free schedule and were able to go out on Friday nights. A time when you felt confident in yourself and were raring to pursue theatre. A time when you didn't have this job (cause apparently, theatre is impossible to get into) that forces you awake at 4 in the morning for the opening shift.

You can't say you don't love your Barista job because you do. Still, when your alarm wakes you from the beautiful dream of performing on the big stage, you have to use everything within yourself to crawl out of your sheet cocoon… and that is unacceptable.

What's even more unacceptable is the fact that your co-worker, Jimin, hasn't arrived at the Academia Cafe yet. You have about 30 minutes to prepare for the morning peak; brew coffees, set up the bakery items, clear the boards "coffee of the day," etc. The problem is, it takes up all of the 30 allotted minutes— and you can't start prepping early because Jimin has the keys to the cafe.

You’ve worked at the Academia Cafe for about a year now, taking a break from your endless theatre audition schedule— since that was getting you absolutely nowhere. No matter how badly you want it, nothing seems to work. No matter how many times you practice, it never seems to be good enough. Let’s just say, you took this job at the cafe because you were over the repetitive let downs.

… But here you are, with a “Jimin being late” let down.

[To: Jimin ☕️] hey, you almost here? times ticking, keys!

You stuff your phone into your winter coat pocket, the brown material catching snowflakes as they fall gently from the cloudy sky. You love this weather; it's always been your favorite. When you were little, you used to pretend to be a dragon; running all over your front yard and releasing heavy breaths that chilled in the air and spread like smoke. You don't enjoy the cold, but the entire feel of winter has you cozying up in a blanket with hot cocoa and a good book… nothing could beat that.

A buzz in your pocket catches your attention.

[From: Jimin ☕️] Hey! Look up.

Your eyes immediately lift to see Jimin smiling a few feet away, shuffling through the snow as he drags the keys out of his pocket. He's sporting a heavy blue coat that reaches down to his knees — making his short stature appear even smaller — topped with a matching blue beanie. Despite his tardiness today, you’ve always been fond of Jimin. He's like a ray of sunshine, beaming through the skyscrapers of the city and making everyone around him happy just by flashing a single smile. Honestly, you wish you could sneak some of that happiness from him and lock it somewhere safe... so you can save it for a time when you need it most.

"Your timing is impeccable." He laughs, gently placing the keys into the front door lock. "You texted me right as I was rounding the corner."

"I'm telling you, Jimin; we're always on the same wavelength." Smirking, you make your way through the doors of the cafe, greeted by the warmth that surrounds you like your sheet cocoon did this morning, but accompanied by the smell of fresh coffee. "Except for the fact that you, my friend, are late, so now we only have twenty-eight minutes until opening."

Old, rustic book pages litter the cafe's dark walls, executing the dark academia theme flawlessly. You have to give the interior designers a hand, what with the black stools and high dark wood counters etched with different story pages. You wonder if anyone took the time to read the stories that covered the cafe; maybe the stories moved them in a personal way. Maybe there was a reason why they read them, a part of the butterfly effect of their life.

With a quick survey of the main room, you shuffle into the back to put your belongings away. "You would think it would be less busy on the streets because of the snow," Jimin calls, already working on the first batch of light roast coffee. "But unfortunately for me, that was not the case, and I nearly lost my life multiple times on the way here because of how slick it is."

A laugh emits from your lips, echoing in the backroom as you throw your apron over your head.

You begin with date labeling all of the pastry items, placing them accordingly onto the pastry cart; croissants, muffins, scones, etc. Then, you move onto organizing syrups and setting toppings along the bar where drinks are made. Bar is your personal favorite position-- since you're able to make the drinks… Plus, you're so busy that your shift goes by way faster. The sooner you're done, the sooner you get to go home and sleep.

“All set?” Jimin questions when you finish setting the steaming pitchers next to the espresso machine, tossing the rag he used to wipe down tables into the sanitizer bin. You give him a nod, taking a quick once over of the bar. “Alright,” he claps, “let's do this.”

This morning runs like every Friday morning, busy and fast. The sounds of coffee glasses clinking and the calling of customer names at the hand-off station echoes through the air.

Ahhhh, the scenery in coffee shops; the quiet hush over the room as soft jazz plays over the speakers. It’s soothing, all encompassing, and extremely helpful for motivation… You used to go to a local cafe for homework when you were still in school.

You take a breath, relaxing against the back counter as you overhear a conversation a group of regulars are having. It’s the usual small talk: the weather, families, sharing pictures of recent events. Coming up with questions of the day for customers becomes easier after knowing their stories, so you subconsciously listen in often.

Because of this, you almost don't notice the man waiting at the register, wholly delved into the neighboring conversation— only looking over when you hear your name called.

"Y/n?"

You turn your head, catching eyes with the stranger behind the counter who holds his credit card ready. The first thing you notice is that he's young, probably around your age, wearing a brown turtleneck and white slacks. His eyes are dark, standing above his perfectly sculpted nose and lips. His hair is dark as well, forehead drowning within the wavy bangs that fall over his eyebrows as he takes you in. To be completely honest, he's probably the most handsome man you've had the pleasure of seeing… is that weird? You don’t know him… maybe that is weird.

The second thing you notice is that he looks completely anxious, hands grasping the edge of the counter like there's a thousand-foot drop below him. Why is he looking straight at you while doing that? Maybe you should call Jimin to take ove-

“Is it really you?” He questions, taking you aback.

"I-" You clear your throat, walking forward to meet him at the register, "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

With an intake of breath, he releases the counter as he studies you. Was he… crying? You swear his eyes were not this bloodshot three seconds ago.

"You-" He pauses, taking another sharp breath and running a hand through his hair. If you thought he couldn't get more attractive, you were wrong. "Do you know me?"

Attractive? Yes. Psycho?...possibly.

You shake your head slightly, “I… I’m sorry. I don't-"

Wait… is he a regular? You swear you haven't seen him come into the cafe before. Shoot.. What if he is? The number one thing your boss has made perfectly clear: remember the regulars, so they come back and feel at home; recognized. Customer connection was the most important thing at the Academia Cafe… He's probably a regular.

“I’m so sorry, there're so many people that come to visit us and sometimes I forget the regulars!” You apologize. “That’s my fault… remind me of your name again?”

He's staring at you. Full-on staring, jaw slacked. Shifting uncomfortably in your keds, you eye beside you to see Jimin working away at a macchiato. You consider changing places, nearly walking over to him before the customer speaks again.

"It's- It's Taehyung."

You force a smile, nodding while he continues to stare at you. He seems a bit more hesitant, his eyes looking in different directions but ultimately falling back onto your own. Even if he tried, he couldn't hide the rosy color that spreads onto his cheeks. What was this guy's problem?

"Taehyung! Awesome, well, what can I get for you today?" You chirp, attempting to brighten up your increasing discomfort. He might have mistook you for someone else, you decide, jumping back into your customer service personality: kind and quick to the point.

Taehyung doesn't move, training his eyes on you. You've never had a man's undivided attention before, since boyfriends were never an option. When you were a teenager, you stayed home most of the time in your hometown, and the boys there were all just in it to take your pants off. You avoided them and never really caught their attention, so you can't help the uncomfortable blush that grows on your cheeks. It’s short lived though, your nerves dissolving as soon as you notice a single tear fall onto the front of his shirt.

Oh. Okay, he’s definitely crying.

"Sir..." You begin, leaning in closer to avoid drawing attention. "Is everything alright?"

"I…" The shake in his voice is evident as he puts his credit card back into his wallet, still refusing to break eye contact. “Excuse me." Without another word, he turns on his heel and rushes towards the exit, clocking a customer in the shoulder in his rush. He apologizes quickly, bowing to them before glancing behind to make eye contact with you once more.

You wish you could read minds, wondering what the hell is going through his brain… but you notice the tiniest gleam of a hopeful smile that hides on his lips.

And then he’s gone.

“I swear it was the strangest thing, Jimin.” You speak nervously, tugging at the strings of your apron and lifting it over your head. It had been busy all day, despite a quick thirty minute break when everyone had left and the cafe was suddenly a deserted island. You appreciated the busyness, it made your shift go by faster. Right now, all you wanted to do was go home, eat a fat bowl of icecream and distract yourself from the events of today with a movie. Thank God your shift was over.

“Maybe he thought you were someone else?” Jimin insists, taking a bite into the extra Blueberry Muffin you’d accidentally heated when you were distracted by the events that occurred earlier.

“Yeah? Well, I must be the spitting image because he was totally freaked out.”

“You never know, y/n. Or, maybe he just used that as an excuse to talk to you.” You could hear the smirk in his voice, throwing your rolled up apron at him harshly before you grab your belongings.

“Ha, ha, you’re hilarious. This guy looked like he had seen his ex… He was crying. I don’t think he was into me.”

“Maybe his eyes were watering from the cold wind?” He offers.

“Enough to cry actual tears?” You scoffed, “C’mon Jimin.”

He shrugs defensively, picking up his things so the two of you can head out a few minutes earlier than usual. Whenever the baristas have a chance to leave early, they take it. “If he comes back, then ask him: hey, dude, what’s your deal?”Jimin works his way through the cafe, throwing an excess chair upside down onto the table with the rest of them.

You hold your hand above your heart, which is still beating at a faster pace due to this discussion. Can hearts even beat this fast? This can’t be healthy… “Oh wow, you have such a way with words. That definitely won’t make him feel uncomfortable!”

Yes. Sarcasm coping mechanism.

“Y/n.” Jimin meets you at the door and puts his hands on your shoulders, making extra sure he has your attention. “Go home. Don’t think too much into it… He was probably high or something and mistook you for his ex that dumped him and now he’s moping through the city and getting into all sorts of trouble and he’ll forget that he even came here tomorrow morning. Okay?”

You nod slowly, exiting the cafe with Jimin on your tail. "Don't worry, y/n." Jimin adds, "He probably won't even come back." He locks the door and gives you one last thumbs up before heading in the opposite direction, calling out at the last second. “See you tomorrow!”

The forced smile on your face appears again (looks like this was a regular occurrence today), waving him goodbye.

Yeah… tomorrow.

Jimin was right. The handsome crying stranger was probably never coming back.

It has been a few weeks since you met him for the first time. Now, it feels like a distant memory. He hadn’t shown up to the cafe the day after the encounter, or the day after that, or the day after that, and eventually you’d come to the conclusion that he was probably never going to show his face again out of pure embarrassment. You can’t say you blame him. You’d be embarrassed too if you stared at and cried over a random stranger.

Still, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment... You'd kind of hoped you could figure out what his problem was, maybe ease his mind a little if you really did look like a past lover. You would make sure he knew that it wasn't you. What if he was avoiding the cafe because he literally thought you were someone else? Great… now you just feel bad.

"Y/n? Are you listening?" Jimin beckons over the phone.

"Huh? What?" You bounce back to reality, the soft comforter of your bed lying beneath you as you stare out the window. Thanks to your wonderful apartment search, you have a beautiful view of the city. Jimin had helped you find a place when you first moved here. The two of you had met when you visited to check out the first apartment options; he even took you out for a drink afterward to celebrate the first days' completion. Jimin had immediately clicked with you, as he does with everyone-- he was the kind of person to make friends insanely quickly. He must've been super popular in high school... unlike you.

"Y/n Y/l/n. I am giving you a chance to meet more people, and you're not even listening to me!" He cries, a light smack coming from the other end (probably from him slamming his hand on the table).

"Okay, okay-- I'm sorry. I'm listening now; what's up?"

With a deep sigh, he speaks again. "Party. My house. Tonight. It's not gonna be wild, don't worry... it's just a get-together with some of my friends, and you can have a few drinks if you would like to."

Gnawing at your bottom lip, you look over towards the clock on your nightstand. 5:00. "I don't know..." You begin, the bed shifting as you raise into a seated position. "I have to work tomorrow morn-"

"Already got your shift covered." He deadpans.

"What??"

"I already got your shift covered, so you have no excuse."

This sly guy.

"Who covered it?" You question, setting the audio to speaker-phone as you rummage through old text messages you haven't gone through (to prep for your "thank you for covering my shift" text message).

“Jin.” Noted.

“So…” Jimin continues, “are you coming?”

You can't even remember the last time you met new people, let alone gone to a party. Parties weren't necessarily your thing, especially with your busy schedule of workdays and auditions-- you just never had the time. You should be excited, right?

Well, you aren't.

"Jimin, I don't know… I'm not really a huge fan of parties." You mumble over the phone, picking at the lone string that popped out of its stitch on your comforter.

"Y/n, it's a small get-together, and it's not gonna be that kind of party. Believe me; it'll be really chill. It's just me, you, a few other coworkers, and some friends from my journalism class."

You chew at your bottom lip, looking over at your closet to see a single green cocktail dress that you hadn't worn in years. The memory of the dress was a good one… you had just finished up curtain call for The Addams Family and wore that dress to the after-party. It's a short sleeve, layered green dress that flows just over your knees, the same color sash tying the waist in a floppy bow. You blush at the memory of winning best dressed.

A pause, “Okay.” You conclude. “I’ll go.”

Jimin was honest about how chill it would be; soft music plays in the background as the group sits around the table playing cards. A basketball game is playing on the TV, desperate for attention as a player scores a 3-pointer, but no one is watching. Shuffling of cards is the only sound heard in the room as the game continues.

The atmosphere is calm… quiet…

“BULLSHIT.”

The immediate crumble of everyone’s mood causes the loud “HELL YEAH” that makes you jump in your seat.

"And that is how it's done, Ladies and Gentlemen." Jungkook (your fellow coworker) claps, his smile brighter than the sunset that seeps through the curtains on the opposite side of the room.

"And that's on cheating!" Jimin picks up the cards in the center of the table, gathering them clumsily back into a pile.

"It's called having skill," Jungkook replies, holding his hands up as he smirks at his opponents.

"No, it's called luck." Yoongi finalizes as he puts his hand of cards down on the table with a roll of his eyes. You haven’t met Yoongi before until tonight. He’s one of Jimin's friends from Journalism Class.

When you arrived, you decided to sit out of this round and learn to play before joining the game-- knowing you; you would've been crushed within the first minutes of playing. Card games weren’t exactly a skill of yours— board games on the other hand were where it’s at! That, and charades. For the sake of the party, a card game didn’t sound too bad this time around— so you poke at Jimin to give you the hand as he serves cards for everyone else.

“Wait, wait, wait—“ Jimin pauses, his hand disappearing beneath the table to grab his phone. “Hello?”

“I’m not Irish, so does luck really count?” Jungkook questions in a hushed whisper, nudging Yoongi in the side.

“Oh hey...yeah... it’s apartment 205.” Jimin continues.

“You’re so funny, Jk. Maybe you’ll actually become successful if you choose stand-up comedy rather than becoming a musician.” Yoongi replies nonchalantly, his cat-like eyes staring at the abandoned pile of cards before he seems to come to the decision to shuffle them himself. He gives you a small smile when you hold your hand out to signal that you’re joining in this round.

“Mhm, you can just walk on in! Doors unlocked… okay.. alright, see ya in a minute.” When Jimin's phone is down, Yoongi passes a hand of cards to him.

“Think you can beat me, Y/n?” Jungkook asks,”Since apparently these four can’t?” He motions to Yoongi and Jimin, glancing at the other two players of the game: Hoseok (Jimins other classmate) and his girlfriend, Faith.

“I think I can.” You say, smirking at the determined expression on Jungkooks face. Even if you weren’t very fond of card games, there was one thing you were even less fond of: losing.

“Mmm, might want to rethink that, but okay.” Jungkook replies. The two of you are death staring when the sound of the front door creaking open catches the attention of everyone else at the table. Jimin shoots out of his chair.

“Taehyung!”

You freeze.

"You-" He pauses, taking another sharp breath and running a hand through his hair. If you thought he couldn't get more attractive, you were wrong. "Do you know me?"

Attractive? Yes. Psycho?... possibly.

“I’m so sorry, there're so many people that come to visit us and sometimes I forget the regulars!” You apologize. “That’s my fault… remind me of your name again?”

"It's- It's-."

“Taehyung, you just missed me creaming everyone in bullshit.” Jungkook boasts. Your eyes are glued to the side of Jungkook's head, not daring to make eye contact with the source of your nerves the past few weeks.

“Oh did I?” The familiar, deep voice utters.

Okay.. you can’t help but look…

Holy—it’s actually him.

Immediate regret sinks into your soul when you see him. God, he’s even handsomer than you remember. A white woolen sweater hangs over a pair of his black pants, matched with white sneakers and accenting the head of dark wavy hair you’d been thinking about since you last saw him.

“Yep!” Jungkook continues. “And now Y/n’s about to get shitfaced too.”

The moment his eyes swiftly glance your way is the moment you crumble and turn your head back to Jungkook. You had hoped to make a sly remark, something along the lines of “in your dreams,” but you’re caught breathless from the tension in the room. The tension only the two of you are aware of. He must be tense too, right?

“I wouldn’t underestimate her.” You hear out of Taehyung's mouth, stealing a look at his face once more. He’s smirking at Jungkook, hanging his coat on the hook beside yours, oblivious of the way you’re basically dissecting his every move.

“Have you met Y/n?” Jimin questions, provoking Taehyung's eyes to fall back onto yours. This time, you don’t look away.

He doesn’t answer right away, making you more nervous than you should be— the silence deafening as you make to explain, “We-“

“No.” He states plainly, cutting you off. An innocent smile plays on his lips as he looks at Jimin and places his messenger bag beside the door.

No? Uhhh, was he not the guy who pretended to know who you were and cried in front of you without even explaining why? Nope, it’s definitely him.

“I’m Taehyung.” He calls in your direction, offering you a boxy smile and a small nod, “Don’t let Jungkook fool you. A girl pinched him when we were in grade school. He barely lasted five seconds before running away screaming.” Taehyung moved to the table, sitting beside the man he just brutally embarrassed.

“That girl was terrifying. She was way taller than all the other sixth graders. It was an unfair situation.” Jungkook protested, sinking in his chair as he shuffled the cards he held in his hand.

You couldn’t help but stare dumbly at Taehyung. Was he embarrassed of his outburst at the cafe that he just hopes you forgot about him? You guess you didn’t exactly meet each other, other than a few words exchanged before he disappeared out the door. He probably doesn’t want his friends to know about what happened. Or did he not recognize you and completely forgot about the whole ordeal?

Okay, it’s fine… totally fine.

“I’ll have to keep that in mind,” you laugh, “no more coming in late, Jk. Or I’ll have to pinch you.”

Jungkook merely rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his beer. You see the crinkle in Taehyung's eyes as he laughs, the boxy smile taking root on his face again… a smile you’ve begun to enjoy the look of.

Hey. Snap out of it. This guy is so confusing. That’s a red card.

You straighten up in your seat, catching Jimin's attention when you move towards the kitchen, motioning with your hand to signal that you’re getting another drink. You have a feeling you’re gonna need some more alcohol to get through the evening.

Jimins place is clean, every knick knack placed neatly where it belongs; accompanied by the smell of potted plants that he keeps by his windows. Little name tags are attached to the plant stems: Flo, Sprout, Bob. He names his plants. Sweet.

He, like you, has a great view of the city too, a mid-size window perched above his breakfast nook where a small potted plant (quotabley named “bean”) grows. The city is bustling below as you reach for a beer, shrugging off the fact that you hate beer, but at least the taste will distract you from Tae-

“Hey.” You hear a soft voice call from the kitchen archway. When you turn you nearly drop the bottle out of your hand. Taehyung gives you a soft smile.

“Hey! Uh.. did you want a beer, or are you a wine guy?” You question, cringing at how much higher your voice sounds at his close proximity.

“I— Sorry, neither.” He starts, shoving his hands into his pockets as he makes his way around the island. “I uh- I just wanted to talk to you about something.”

You nod slightly, “Yeah of course… what’s up?”

“Um,” he’s nervous, you notice. “I just wanted to apologize about the whole thing at the cafe a few weeks ago.. I was— not in the right state of mind.” He meets your eyes hesitantly, “you just look like someone I know from a long time ago and it kind of.. took me by surprise, I guess.”

Jimin was right. You offer him a smile, shaking your head in disbelief, “You know what, I truly thought that was the reason… It’s totally fine. I’m not who you think I am, by the way.”

A flicker of something crosses his features at your comment, something you can’t quite pick up, but he changes it quickly to a smirk. “Obviously.” He laughs, “I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable.. I’m not weird, I swear.”

“Mmm, that’s what they all say.” You tease.

He laughs, a soft sound that you want to hear over and over again. “You’ve got me there.” He takes a pause, placing his hands on the island countertop. “Let’s start over? If that’s okay? I didn’t want to mention it when I came in because I wanted us to have a fresh start.”

You push down the questioning thought of who this woman he mistook you for was, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. “That’s totally okay.. clean slate?”

“Clean slate.” He finalizes.

“Straightforward,” You add, “I like it.”

He gives you a warm smile, the same edge in the way he looks at you dances in his eyes before he breaks it off, sliding the bottle of beer out of your own hand. “Actually, I think I will have a beer. You don’t seem like a beer drinker, anyway.” He turns quickly, smirking at you before striding out of the room. “Thanks, Y/n!”

Protestations die on your lips as he disappears from the room, your beer along with him. How rude. You can’t help the smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you turn back to the cupboard, skipping the beer and pouring yourself a second glass of wine. You weren’t a beer drinker, after all.

Although you weren’t one for parties, you couldn’t help but admit the fact that you were having a good time. No, a great time. All of you are seated in Jimins living room; a plate of chips sits on the coffee table, which was the hot spot of the night (considering there’s hardly any remaining). Others in the group still have a glass of alcohol in their hands, the tipsiness evident by the slurring of their words. You had stopped yourself after half of your second glass, playing it safe since you still have to walk home after the party. You weren’t much of a drinker anyway-- your family history being the root of this decision.

It isn’t the games that made the night this enjoyable, or the food, or the movie that is currently playing over Jimin's television (which, by the way, is Moulin Rouge, because half of the room enjoys musicals, and the other half enjoys regular movies. So, you decided to settle on a movie musical). None of that matters, except the fact that you’ve never felt this carefree in a long time.

For one night, you can put aside your cafe job, auditions, and never-ending to-do lists and just have fun. Real fun. Even in the audition rooms, it has never been fun for you. It’s been nerve-wracking to a fault and always ends with a “thank you for taking the time, but we’ve decided not to accept you this time around,” or a callback, which ultimately concludes with the same grueling fate.

But this is different.

This is a group of people who genuinely want to spend time with you and get to know you… with no “not this time’s” or open-ended questions.

Especially with Taehyung. You’re surprised at how quickly the two of you seemed to hit it off, despite the awkward introduction. Now, it feels like he’s known you for years… in the best way. You’re comfortable talking to him, chatting together during the movie about the plot points or songs you find specifically endearing. You had initially planned to sit next to Jimin… but ended up next to Taehyung on the couch.

It just happened.

He enjoys musicals as well, you learn. Maybe not as much as you do, but at least he doesn’t despise them. He’s one of Jimin’s friends from their shared art class. He loves the color brown. His favorite food is watermelon. He does illustrations for Jimins journalism projects (which, in your opinion, are exceptional from the photos he showed you during the movie while the others were engulfed in the film). He wishes to pursue traveling journalism, where he draws what he sees rather than taking pictures. His whole aura is warm… like a heated blanket that envelopes you whole when you feel him shift beside you on the sofa. A small reminder that he’s still there.

Okay, you’re liking his presence way too much.

He finds romance movies corny but a guilty pleasure nonetheless. This, the reason why he agreed to watch Moulin Rouge despite the cheesiness in the beginning. In the end, it was anything but cheesy.

"Well, that was stupid." Jungkook scoffs, slamming the remote onto the neighboring loveseats' armrest. The once loud room filled with music is now quiet from the after-effects of the movie.

“I told you it was sad!” Jimin exclaims. The two of you had seen this movie before in theatres… and this was nothing compared to how the ending hit the first time. “Y/N was nearly choking. She was crying so hard when we saw it.”

An immediate blush rises onto your cheeks as you shake your head in defiance, trying to hide the tears that had been stinging your eyes for the last thirty minutes. “Who wouldn’t cry at that??”

“Taehyung probably didn’t. He never cries.” Hoseok deadpans. Ha. You can’t help but remember the tear that ran down his face in the cafe… He never cries?

With a quick look over your shoulder, you find that Taehyung is no longer seated on the couch. When did he get up? You attempt to shrug off your curiosity, pivoting back towards the chip table where only sad little crumbs remain. You were worrying way too much over a man you quite literally just met tonight… even if it felt like you’ve known him for much longer.

Taehyung eventually reappeared, stating that he had to use the bathroom— you ignored the fact that it took him a solid 30 minutes to get back to the party. It wasn’t your place to ask any questions, especially since he lifted a smile onto his face the second he reentered the room. See, y/n… nothing to worry about.

It wasn’t long before you insisted you head home, knowing that you’d curse yourself in the morning if you stayed out past the sunrise. If you did, you’d sleep through tomorrow, and that would be awful. You’ve done this a few times… and every time, you felt like you had wasted an entire year of your life.

You move to grab your purse and jacket, which are hanging comfortably on the hook beside the front door. With a small smile, you bid everyone goodnight— smiling as they resume a card game around the table at one o’clock in the morning. It’s nice to know that the group of you hit it off… now; you can look forward to plenty of get-togethers in the future.

Your mind is bustling with all kinds of ideas: picnics in central park, late-night broadway shows, hangouts at the caf-

“Y/n!” The soft calling of Taehyung's voice causes you to halt near the exit, turning on your heel to see him jogging towards you. He had haphazardly thrown his jacket over him since it’s still being tugged onto his body as he runs. His hair becomes even more chaotic in his haste… Why do you want to run your hands through it?

“Hey!” You squeak, interrupting your thoughts before they trudged down a guilty road. “What are you doing? Weren’t you going to play another round?”

He gives you a smirk, catching his breath as he holds out your house keys. “You forgot these! You were really moving fast… sick of us already?”

“Wh— oh my god, thank you!” With a quick swipe of your hand, you’re stuffing your keys into your pocket with a grateful smile. “Also, hardly.”

You admire the way his eyes light up at your confession. “Well.. since you don’t want to leave us so quickly.. how about I walk you home?” He seems almost hesitant asking, but you can’t help but applaud him for actually taking the initiative to inquire.

You shake your head, pulling the strap of your purse farther up your shoulder. “You don’t have t-“

“I want to!” He cuts you off quickly, catching you by surprise as he moves past you to open the door. He glances back, taking in your reluctant expression, “It’s not safe this time of night Y/n… You shouldn’t be alone.“

You know he didn't mean anything by that statement… But the idea of someone genuinely caring and not wanting you to be alone makes your heart swell. Jimin cares about your safety of course, but this feels… Different.

This is the reason why you allow him to walk you home.

The snow crunches beneath your feet, like a symphony that beckons you home. You’ve been feeling exhaustion seeping into your bones for the last ten minutes, but Taehyung's occasional brush of his arm as he walks beside you keeps you wide awake. He doesn’t think to apologize for accidentally touching you, but you blame it on the time of night. Delusion.

“How long have you lived in New York?” You question, wrapping your coat tighter around you to kick out the nipping air.

“About a year now,” He responds, shuffling his feet, “though it feels like way longer. You?”

“Three years.”

Taehyung turns his head towards you, eyes wide. “Wow, way to one up me.” With a teasing smile he continues, “You must know this city like the back of your hand.”

The truth is… you don’t. You came here for the sole purpose of making it on Broadway... you never really took the time to focus on anything else. Part of you wishes you had learned more, craved more, wanted more with your life—then you wouldn’t be so miserable when the one thing you do want doesn’t work out. “Yeah… kind of.”

If he hears the somber tone of your voice, he ignores it, turning against the wind as he walks backwards down the sidewalk. “It’s overrated in my opinion.”

You raise your head at this, “Why is that?”

“Everyone here has dreams… and those dreams get crushed more often than not.” He shrugs, “No one cares if you want to succeed, only if you already have.”

You stare at him for a moment, awestruck by the weight of his words. “But,” he adds, turning back towards the wind, “the ones who never give up and continue to chase that dream can become successful. Despite all of the no’s they might face, they always hold on till they hear a yes. That sounds like true success to me.”

Turning your head, you stare at the side of his face— admiring the way his hair tosses back a bit against the harsh winter winds. His words hit you way deeper than he probably realized, sinking into your chest with an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. You’ve been contemplating recently on whether or not to give up on your dream… that maybe it just wasn’t going to work out for you. You have been trying for so long, and have repeatedly been let down. There was no way Taehyung could have known, which is why his words hit you as hard as they did. Despite the hardships, you’ve been here for three years and you’ve never given up or stopped trying to chase your dream.

That was an achievement, right?

“To be honest… I've heard a lot of no’s in my three years of being here.” You speak softly, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind your ear. “Sometimes it feels like there will never be a yes… but here I am. At least I'm still working— at a coffee shop, not on the stage.”

“It’s admirable that you keep going.” Taehyung glances at you over his shoulder. “It makes you different from a lot of people who have left the city when they faced failure. It’s something to be proud of. Plus, coffee shop or big stage, you’re in New York City and pursuing your gift. It’s special.”

When your eyes meet, you smile at him, feeling a sense of victory the longer you hold his gaze.

“Don’t give up, Y/n. No matter what.” He speaks genuinely, leaning towards you to nudge you gently on your shoulder. You can’t help but laugh at his playfulness, giving him a nudge in return before your eyes downcast to your winter boots. The snow on the ground is fresh, powdery and sticking to the toes of your shoes. “Plus,” He adds, sucking in the chilly air, “you've got what others don’t have…”

This time when you meet his eye he has a serious expression, making sure he has your full attention as you round the corner towards your apartment building. His gaze is genuine, captivating… and a part of you hopes that the close proximity of your apartment wouldn’t cut this moment short. Finally, he speaks.

“You have passion.”

Taehyung's words weigh on you for the rest of your night. It started off as something simple, looking up audition songs for an upcoming off-broadway show your agent was telling you about. Then, you went to learning it. After that, putting on makeup. And finally, completely forgetting about your sleep schedule and filming an entire audition tape in your room at 2 in the morning (and you were belting… your poor neighbors). It wasn’t until four that you finally turned in for the night, not bothering to take off your makeup or get changed-- simply falling onto your pillow and blacking out the moment you hit it. You were definitely sleeping the next day away… but at that moment, you didn’t mind. Having a day off from your busy schedule wouldn’t be so bad.

“I sent in an audition tape two nights ago.” You speak confidently, wiping down the back counter that’s littered with coffee grounds. They stick to the rag like glue, tiny dots scattered along its white surface. If it weren’t for your apron,

and your expertly rolled up white turtleneck sweater, you would look alot like this rag right now.

“Did you?” Jimin questions from the bar, sleeving the cup before placing it on the handoff counter.

“Christopher! Medium cappuccino!” He calls, multitasking while he cranes his neck to still hear you.

“I did. I feel really good about this one..” You add, meeting him beside the bar as he lifts the pitcher up and down to create the latte-art of a flower in the center of the mug. You have tried sooooo many times to make latte art… and every time it ended up looking like a glob. A big, distorted snowball. Jimin was the master of latte art, always finishing it off beautifully with a whip of his wrist. The foam atop telling a story. “It was so late-- I was totally out of it… and yet I actually enjoyed myself while filming it. I just imagined being there.. In center stage.”

“I’m happy for you, Y/n!” He smiles, turning to place the hot mug next to the cappuccino.

“Caleb! Medium caramel latte!”

He was only half listening to you. The cafe was bustling, so it truly wasn’t Jimin's fault that he was sidetracked— but nothing could hold back the small smile that played at the edge of your lips. You had actually enjoyed singing for the first time in a while.. all because of Taehyung's Academy Award winning pep talk. Who knew that all you needed was for someone to tell you like it is. With a minuscule smile, you turn back towards the counter and lift the latte you’d whipped up this morning to your lips. Your distorted snowball is fully on display at the top.

Despite the busyness, the front register is deserted, giving you time to think for a moment about the pep talk... or rather, the person who gave you it.

“I think Taehyung likes you.” Jimin deadpans.

Uhhh… You nearly spit out your snowball at that— clearing your throat as you set it down slowly onto the wooden countertop. He speaks as if this is a natural conversation starter… it’s not.

“I’m sorry?” You croak.

“Taehyung.” He repeats, turning his head in your direction with a knowing smirk. “I think he likes you.”

You give him a scoff of disbelief, watching as yet another group of regulars enter through the door. “That’s not true, he just doesn’t know me… so he made an effort to talk to me.” If you weren’t studying the group, you would've seen Jimin giving you a scrutinized look.

So, now you have his attention.

“Y/n. It’s so obvious… He spent the entire night talking to you, he left moments after you did to give you your keys and he never came back. If that isn’t someone who’s interested, I don’t know what is.” Jimin is an expert at multitasking, finishing off two drinks at the same time and calling them out.

“Well, Jimin, when people don’t know each other, they get to know each other. It’s this thing called talking and becoming friends.” The sentence hangs in the air as the doorbell chimes, signaling that yet another customer has entered the cafe and into the swarm of regulars, but the two of you disregard the sound and continue on through your bickering.

“I’m just saying, Taehyung doesn’t usually talk to girls.” Jimin adds, wiping his hands off on the white rag seated beneath his espresso machine. “Even if they wanted his attention, he didn’t give it to them. I mean— he’s nice to girls, don’t get me wrong.. but he’s never talked to them like he did with you on game night. I don’t think he’s dated anyone since he got here.”

“He’s career driven.” You say quickly.

If you thought his smirk couldn’t get any wider, you were wrong. “Yeah, girls don’t know that about him— meaning he told you, and not other girls.” Jimin deadpans.

You stare blankly at him. There’s no way. No way that a guy as attractive as Taehyung would even think about looking at you like that. There’s just no way. You’ve never had a boyfriend... or even a guy friend, until Jimin. Eventually, you’d accepted the fact that maybe you just weren’t that interesting. Maybe you weren’t pretty enough. Maybe you couldn’t flirt…. okay, you definitely couldn’t flirt— but that’s besides the point.

“He’s not interested in me.” You conclude.

“He is.” Jimin counters.

“He’s not.”

“He so is.”

“He’s so not.”

“Y/n. I swear to you. He’s interested and you need to shoot your shot.” He whisper-screams, throwing the rag in his hand onto the bar.

“Taehyung is not-“

A clearing of someone’s throat from beyond the register cuts your argument short, nearly making you lose your balance when you see who the source was.

You’re fairly certain you’ve turned pale.

Taehyung stands in front of you, eyeing between the two of you with an awkward expression. God, how long has he been standing there? “I figured I should step in before the two of you start fist fighting.”

“Hey!” The shrill of your voice causes you to wince.

“Hey.” He says with a smile, folding his arms in front of him and raising his eyes to the menu above your head. You can’t help the glare you send towards Jimin, who's notably holding back his laughter as he moves to the blender, the station farthest from the register. Ridiculous.

“What can we get for you?” You ask routinely, trying not to make it obvious that you were just talking about him… and praying that he wasn’t there to hear what the two of you were talking about.

“Hmm…” He looks especially good today, wearing a brown, long coat and a brown plaid scarf around his neck. He wasn’t kidding when he said his favorite color was brown, that’s for sure. It suits him. His hair is wavy, flowing to a point just under his eyebrows with a split off center, giving you the tiniest glimpse of his forehead. “How about an americano with hazelnut, and some cream?”

“We can do that for ya!” You have to force yourself to stop looking at him, pressing the buttons to ring up his order before you forget. You nearly overlook ringing up the hazelnut syrup. Why were you so dazed? He’s already placed his credit card into the chip reader, but your foggy brain asks anyway. “Anything else?”

“Yes, actually.” He speaks as you move towards the bar beside the register. Grabbing an empty pitcher, you pour the milk inside and reach for the steamer. He drops a dollar into the tip jar, not giving you enough time to thank him for the unnecessary effort before he speaks again. “Are you free later?”

NEXT CHAPTER

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voidstilesplease · 3 years ago

Text

Written for @steodiscord's Steo Secret Santa (2021). This one's for @stilesshipper. Hi Em, sorry the Tumblr post is late. I knew I would pass out after I posted the fic on AO3. It took forever to post because I did everything on mobile 🥴. I'm still drunk on caffeine, I think. LOL. But as promised, here's the amazing aesthetic for the fic created by a dearest friend, @sunel0. Sonya, thank you SO MUCH!!! It was fun designing the mood board with you (and by that, I mean: I'm relieved to finally attach a structured one to my work at last 😂).

title: can't believe his luck

ship: Stiles/Theo | word count: 11.5k | rating: T | tags: AU, A/B/O dynamics, friends to lovers, fluff, getting together, werefoxes & werewolves, Stiles and Theo are neighbors and childhood best friends, their parents are best friends as well, Claudia is alive, Theo's parents are very much alive, Stiles & Theo & Scott are best friends, Jackson's an asshole

summary: Stiles, Theo, a treehouse, two gold rings, and three hundred sixty-five volumes of Stiles's favorite manga.

i. take me back when our world was one block wide

Stiles can't believe his luck.

He springs from his desk over to his open window at the sound of the car horn, eyes glinting in excitement as he eyes the family stepping out of a silver car next door and the giant U-Haul truck tailing them. Their new neighbors have arrived. Oh, how long has Stiles waited.

He flips his storybook close - a tale of adventure and friendship between a young fox, much like Stiles himself, and a young wolf. He enjoys those stories the most.

Stiles loves wolves; his best friend Scott is one. His dad is, too.

He gawks at the group, watching each one like a hawk. There's a couple, about the age of Stiles's parents, and two children. Definitely wolves, Stiles confirms to himself with his nose hunched up the air. While the new neighbors' daughter looks too old to want to hang out with Stiles, their son is definitely young enough to be Stiles' wolf buddy!

When Stiles's parents invite the new family for a welcome dinner, Stiles practically leaps down the stairs in his hurry. And when he comes face to face with his prospective new friend, he grins at him through a missing front tooth.

The boy, Theo, frowns and sticks his eyes down to his plate the entire meal. But Stiles isn't deterred by his rather lackadaisical response. It's understandable to be shy at first, after all. His sister, though, Tara, is more amiable. They quickly find something in common: werefox manga. They chatter about it all night and discover that they have the same favorite: The Fox Prince!

At school, Theo enrolls in Stiles's first-grade class. He immediately becomes friends with Jackson, though, and Stiles deflates. Stiles hardly likes that boy. He's mean and a bully. He picks on Stiles because he's smaller than the average bunch and teases him 'omega' like it's an insult. Stiles isn't an omega. He won't know until he's sixteen - no one knows until they're sixteen. And if he was, it wasn't anything to be ashamed of - his parents always make him repeat that. There are also infographics put up all over the school; even educational tapes during orientation and first day in homeroom are available. Pro-omega rights are all over in different media, but some choose to be ignorant.

Their bedrooms, he realizes, are across from each other, overlooking through the side windows. Every night, Stiles shouts his good night to Theo. Even though he never says it back or closes his window pointedly at his face.

Stiles helps his mom bake cookies every Saturday, and he saves some to bring over next door to see Theo. The boy is always upstairs playing when he comes over, and Tessa, Theo's mom, smiles apologetically before inviting him in for a homemade milkshake. Theo comes down only when Stiles is bidding his thanks and is already by the door to leave.

Siles figures - after a few weeks of this pattern - that Theo dislikes him. But why, is the question? Is it for the same reason that Jackson doesn't like Stiles? Because he's small and clumsy, and his mouth spits rapid fire? He really wants them to be friends.

It's kind of rotten, really, because Theo has no problem befriending Scott. They meet when Melissa drops off Scott for an overnight stay, which coincidentally is on one of the nights when Stiles's parents host dinner with the Raekens. Yes, it's how close their families are now. They have a calendar of alternating schedules for dinner. And Saturday park dates. And even Sunday barbecues.

They hit it off pretty fast, and it... stings. Scott is smaller than some of their classmates, too. He's asthmatic and needs his inhaler most of the time. Though, his lungs are starting to get better as Scott grows older, according to his labs - his wolf-healing doing its job at last. He's not mouthy like Stiles, but he's gullible - even for his age. He likes everyone. Which, Stiles admits, is pretty naive but also admirable. All those, and Theo likes him. Enough to compare canines with him whenever Scott comes over while not sparing Stiles a single glance. So, is it because Stiles is a fox that Theo dislikes him?

In his books, the fox and the wolf become friends even when they start off suspicious of each other. Maybe Stiles will have to wait a bit more for Theo to warm up to him? Yes, he'll do that.

But three months after Theo moves into Beacon Hills, Stiles stops waiting.

In the first grade classroom at lunch, he's flailing his hands, explaining to Scott why the new volume of The Fox Prince is the best one so far.

In the middle of it, he hears Jackson fake-whisper to a friend, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Yeah, because he dreams of becoming the Fox Prince and finding a Wolf Knight to build him a palace, like in the comics," Jackson's friend snickers, spraying food all over their shared desk. Jackson grimaces but waves it off to continue, seeing as he has an audience now. "He's too weak to lift a hammer, you see. So limb-y and small. And he's not even pretty. He's too mole-y." Then he turns to Theo, "Theo, you better start running. We all know he's got the most pitiful crush on you."

Stiles tears up even as the teacher reprimands Jackson and tells his classmates to stop laughing. He looks at Theo, hoping that he, at least, looks the slightest bit chagrined on Stiles's behalf.

But Theo smirks at Stiles and says, "Foxes are naturally faster than Wolves. I think I'll just beat him up."

Stiles speeds out of the room, wiping angry and humiliated tears off his face, with Scott following close behind.

It's not because of Stiles that Theo doesn't like him. This, Stiles is finally sure of. Theo is really only - pardon the language, mom and dad - a natural jerkface.

***

ii. take me back to the house in the backyard tree

Stiles can't believe his luck. That is to say: he can't believe how much the universe hates him.

Five years have gone by, and his parents still insist on shoving Stiles and Theo on each other. It's like they never listen. Stiles tells them, over and over, that his and Theo's friendship is never going to happen. But they only roll their eyes at him.

"You were obsessed with him when you were seven," his mom says, placating like Stiles is just being petulant about this. "Of course, it's going to happen. Just be a little less snotty to him."

Be a little less snotty. Right. As if Stiles is the reason for their nonexistent friendship.

Today's Sunday. Therefore, Stiles finds himself in the Raekens' backyard, sulking on the picnic bench with a smug Theo sitting across from him.

"You're gonna climb up to my treehouse, whether you like it or not," he tells Stiles confidently after Stiles shots him down harshly. "Your mom will make you."

Stiles scoffs.

But Theo's right.

Theo and Stiles's dads man the barbecue, talking about the recent werewolf rugby preliminaries, while their moms are sipping red wine and laughing pleasantly at each other's account of embarrassing baby stories of Stiles and Theo. After all these years, they still have more to tell.

Stiles is huffing and puffing, sipping grape juice while kicking aggressively at Theo's feet under the table.

"Really, Theo built that by himself?" Stiles's dad, the Sheriff, exclaims in surprise.

Theo's dad, Richard, laughs delightfully. "Well, I assisted some."

The two of them look over to their table, grinning proudly at Theo. Theo straightens in his seat, preening at the attention of two elder alphas. Stiles scowls.

"He's going to present as an alpha. I tell you, Rick."

Their moms hum in agreement.

As if strength is all that makes an alpha.

"Unlikely," Stiles mutters under his breath, full of petty disdain. "Omegas create the den."

Theo hears him, but he only smirks.

"It's beautiful, Theo!" Claudia, Stiles's mom, gushes loudly, and Stiles groans into his hands. He knows what she will say next. "Why don't you show it to Stiles, honey? I'm sure he would be ecstatic."

Stiles is not ecstatic.

Especially when Theo's dad jokes to Stiles's dad after he grudgingly stomps behind Theo in the direction of the treehouse, proclaiming, "They look good together, wouldn't you say, Noah?"

"I definitely wouldn't mind having Theo as a son-in-law, Rick."

Their moms coo and Stiles briskly walks away, flushing in embarrassment and avoiding Theo's eyes.

The ladder up to the treehouse is rickety, there's a nail protruding by the door that almost brains Stiles, and there are gaps between some of the wood planks on the floor - obviously, that half is Theo's work because it screams amateur. It's spacious but dusty inside. The window is only the size of Stiles's head enough to poke out, and the sill is rough. And Stiles is sure it shakes just a bit as Theo climbs in after him.

"So, what do you think?"

Stiles looks around some more. A blue paint would be nice, he thinks. There's also a skylight as he looks up. The branches are trimmed mindfully so that the sky is visible from where Stiles is standing. He thinks it's amazing.

"It's all right," he offers, at last.

Theo snorts. After a pause, he says casually, "You can come by whenever."

Stiles turns to Theo, drawing his brows. "Why would I?"

"So they'd stop pestering us to talk to each other."

"So we come here instead," Stiles gestures at the general vicinity. "To do what?"

Theo shrugs. "Anything but talk."

Stiles narrows his eyes suspiciously, but Theo's expression betrays no hints of nefarious plans to smother Stiles when his back is turned.

Stiles huffs. His new mini bookshelf will look nice in that one corner, he admits. It doesn't mean he hates Theo any less, though.

Stiles tells Scott about the treehouse at lunch the next day.

"Theo built a treehouse for you?" Scott blurts out dramatically, attracting the attention of a few lunch-goers.

"Theo built a treehouse," Stiles corrects him, gritting his teeth. His cheeks heat up consciously at the passing glances. "Period." Actually, his dad did while he butchered his part of the share.

Scott looks confused. "You said he told you that you could come."

Stiles rolls his eyes, wiping cafeteria pizza grease on his school pants. "That doesn't mean he built it for me."

"Well, did he ask anybody else to come up to his treehouse?"

"No," replies Stiles, dragging the syllable like explaining to a child. "Not that I know of."

"Then he built it for you," Scott concludes, grinning triumphantly into his soggy burger. He adds thoughtfully a bit later, "Maybe it's his odd way of saying sorry."

Stiles sighs. Scott can be stubborn sometimes; it's really no use arguing with him. It doesn't matter anyway. Theo didn't build it, and definitely not for Stiles. Especially not to apologize for a cruel comment he made when he was seven.

But-

"Why did you even build this treehouse?" Stiles asks during the succeeding Sunday afternoon barbecue at the Raekens.

Last weekend, when Stiles's family hosted the afternoon affair, Theo helped Stiles set up his foldable mini bookshelf in the treehouse. And Stiles, in turn, helped Theo arrange pillows and blankets once they polished the floor together. It was wide enough to give them berth, keep them in their half of the space. It was the most agreeable they'd been together in… ever. Theo didn't act obnoxious, and Stiles didn't act snotty. It was actually quite pleasant. But he refused to make any of it. Theo doesn't add to Jackson's mockery anymore, but he still laughs at Stiles's expense. He's not any less a jerk than he was five years ago.

Theo looks up from his portable gamepad, frowning. He's been moody today. "I told you."

"Why didn't you invite Tara, then? She wanted to see." Stiles challenges. He wants to prove to Scott that Theo did invite someone other than him to his treehouse. He doesn't know why it's so important, but it is.

Tara is sixteen, and she recently presented as an alpha. She's living with her grandparents in their old home city. She's here to visit after her presentation to give the news to her parents.

Theo's chest makes a gurgling sound, and he looks appalled by the idea, "I don't want her to see."

"Why not? You let me see."

Theo growls low in a warning.

Stiles continues hotly, "You let me put my bookshelves and books in. You let me lay in your blankets. You let me stay. My scent is all over the place. But you hate me."

Theo gnashes his teeth, "I don't hate you."

"Right," snorts Stiles. He finds himself so worked up over this. "You just enjoy making fun of me."

Theo's face turns a giant blotch of red. The atmosphere inside the treehouse is dense with the scent of his anger. "I don't enjoy making fun of you. I thought I should, to fit in."

"Oh, yes!" Stiles cries out. "You're doing a spectacular job fitting in with the assholes."

Theo's fists are clenched tightly around the gamepad, and he looks ready to burst. "That's why I asked dad to help me build this treehouse, okay?" snarls Theo. "Because I'm-"

Theo cuts off sharply. Huh. What do you know? So, Scott's right, and Theo's buttering him up for an overdue apology. But he can't even say it. He's gnawing his lips hard, chest heaving, as if it's so difficult to push the words out.

Just say it, Stiles thinks. Just say it, and you have it. I won't even make it hard.

After all these years - underneath his grudge - Stiles still wants them to be friends. Wants to open his side window again and yell good night to the boy across his room. Wants to bake cookies and share them with Theo. Wave at him in the school hallways and get a response.

Stiles scoffs, shaking his head. "You probably can't even say it, even if I dare you to."

Theo straightens at that, lifting his chin in a challenging stance. "I'm not scared of anything," he hisses defensively. "I can do whatever you would dare me to do."

Egotistical jerk.

Stiles rises to the game. "Whatever, huh?"

"Whatever," Theo agrees.

"Anything at all? I'm not so sure about that."

"Stiles,"

He doesn't know what makes him blurt it out. Probably his growing amusement at the strange situation they've fallen in. But whatever it is, Stiles says:

"Then kiss me, I dare you."

He's so sure Theo would blink, balk in disgust, and finally beat him up, as he said many years ago. But, at least, Stiles has made his point, right? So, Stiles is not prepared when Theo stands - his head almost brushing the roof - and stalks forward, crossing the invisible barrier they set to separate the space.

Stiles's smile instantly drops, "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to kiss you," Theo replies decisively. "I can't do it from the other side of the room, can I?"

Stiles meeps, eyes quickly darting to the exit. "I- but- what," He's only twelve! Not that having his first kiss hasn't crossed his mind or that he's against sharing it with Theo, but neither is the point.

A lone fox in a fight or flight situation. Of course, Stiles bolts out.

Theo's laughing when he pokes his head out of the window. He shouts down at Stiles, "I thought you were a fox, not a chicken!"

He glares and makes rude gestures at Theo before running back to where their parents are busy with the food prep, unaware that Stiles's fast-beating heart is not because he's been running at all. Stiles is still blushing hard when he settles on the picnic bench with his traitorous brain unhelpfully chanting what if.

He still has the most pathetic crush on Theo, apparently.

***

iii. take me back to the creek beds we turned up

Stiles can't believe his luck.

Being friends with Theo is not, at all, how Stiles imagined it would be. Especially when Theo presents as an alpha shortly after turning sixteen.

Scott has also presented as an alpha. Which, frankly, surprised everyone, even Scott himself. For the longest time, they assumed Scott would be a beta. He's just too easy going to be one of the temperamental knotheads. He knocked everyone's breath away when he came to school smelling like kneel before me. He never exploited that, though. Scott would never. He's still the same Scott who's loyal to Stiles and finds the good in everyone.

Stiles has yet to present, although he's a good few months older than both Theo and Scott. But now, he has two alpha best friends. He's basically untouchable at this point. But Theo's protectiveness is noticeably different from Scott's. Enough to catch the attention of Lydia Martin, an alpha werewolf, top of the class, who never once spoke to Stiles even though they shared plenty of classes in middle school, freshman, and sophomore years.

She sits next to him in AP English. "You're Stiles, right?"

Taken aback, Stiles can only nod.

Lydia hums, her kohl-rimmed eyes giving him a deliberate once over. It's really intimidating. Because it's, well, Lydia. When her eyes settle back on his, she says, "Your boyfriend broke my boyfriend's arm during lacrosse practice yesterday."

His eyes widen. None of what she said computes.

"Jackson," she thankfully clarifies after pursing her lips, noticing his utter confusion. "Theo broke Jackson's arm."

Stiles's eyes widen some more. He didn't know about it. Stiles skipped track practice yesterday, and Theo didn't mention it last night when they played Uno on Stiles's roof until midnight. Everything felt normal, but he does remember Theo saying that his mom's miffed at him. He passed it off as nothing serious because it's a fairly regular occurrence. Then, his forehead creases, processing the rest of Lydia's words.

"Theo's not my boyfriend," he adds hastily.

Lydia scoffs, smiling sharply, "He sure acts like it."

Stiles corners Scott by his locker going to the third period.

"What happened at lacrosse practice yesterday?" he demands without preamble.

Scott blinks at him. "Theo didn't tell you?"

Stiles huffs impatiently, "I wouldn't be pestering you if he did." He can't find Theo anywhere, too. Now of all days.

Scott closes his locker door, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, I don't know the entirety of it," Scott starts cautiously. "They were already pretty tense when they came out of the locker room. Then, they just started baring their fangs out and pouncing on each other."

"You've no idea what they could be fighting about?"

Scott looks uncertain for a moment before he sighs resignedly. "Jackson made inappropriate comments about you," he confesses. "I told him to shut up. But Theo totally... snapped."

Stiles pinches the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes with a deep inhale. He opens them again after a second, "Jackson called me omega again, didn't he?"

Scott nods, flattening his lips wryly. "And more."

It's Stiles's turn to sigh. Ever since Theo started hanging out with Stiles, he hung out less and less with Jackson and his lackeys. It's only one more reason for Jackson to hate Stiles and for him to start growing bitter feelings against Theo. They still talk, being in the lacrosse team and all. But Theo openly shuts off anyone who badmouths Stiles and threatens them with bodily harm - and makes good of his promise, see: Jackson - when push comes to shove.

"Theo got suspended for a week," Scott adds after a moment. "He'll also be benched in the next game."

Considering what he did, it's a pretty light punishment. But the new alpha aggression is easy to blame. It's an acceptable excuse. Still.

"Stiles?" Scott places a gentle hand on his shoulder. Stiles looks up, lips wobbling just the slightest. He hates to cause his friends trouble. God knows how many times Scott set aside his amicable nature to warn people off of Stiles's business. Scott's fingers squeeze consolingly, "It's not your fault, okay? He just wants to protect you."

Stiles is not entirely convinced, but he nods.

Later, after school, Theo pulls his truck up deep into the Preserve, to that one spot they both think is the best-hidden treasure within the woods of Beacon Hills: the creek.

They'd discovered it together during a Saturday run after they called a truce and went back there during family date runs, sometimes with Scott. They visit more frequently after Stiles inherited her mom's Jeep and Theo's dad bought him a truck, usually without Scott. He's got a girlfriend now, Allison, who's such a nice girl, a sweet beta. He's trying to win over Allison's family, so he spends a lot of time with her. It's not a problem. Courting is a serious matter, and the Argents are a clan of old conservatives. Stiles and Theo are perfectly capable of enjoying themselves.

It's… nice. Sitting practically flushed together on the tailgate of Theo's truck, their pinky fingers linked innocently in between them. The streaming water, soft snaps of wood in the distance, and their own heartbeats close to each other are the only sounds they can hear. Theo's scent is basically the same as Stiles's own, and it feels like comfort to him.

They're playing sideward footsie with shoes on, and Stiles hates to be the one to break their companionable silence.

"You got suspended," he starts. There's no point posing it as a question. By now, Theo must have figured out that Stiles already knows about it.

Theo nods, hopping off the tailgate.

Stiles tracks his movements. From taking off his shoes and socks, rolling up his pant hems, jumping down a shallow slope to the creek bed, and dipping ankle-deep into the cold water. He picks up a handful of pebbles and starts casting them onto the deeper parts of the creek.

He speaks after a moment, "It's nothing."

Stiles frowns at his dismissive tone. "It's not nothing. You broke Jackson's arm and got suspended."

Theo shrugs. Another throw. "He'll heal."

Stiles sputters in disbelief, "I know he'll heal. But that doesn't mean you had to hurt him."

"I was supposed to do nothing?" Theo snaps, turning bodily to look at Stiles. "He disrespected you."

"It's not like I was there to hear it to get affected," he reasons, though he knows it's a weak argument.

Theo's eyes flash, jabbing at his chest. "Well, I was there to hear it and wanted none of it. Scott and I already warned Jackson, but it's like he's testing me. He thinks my threats are all bluff. They're seriously fucking not."

"Language," Stiles admonishes reflexively.

Theo ignores it, dropping the pebbles mindlessly, as he walks out of the water, up the slope, into Stiles's space. His knees make contact with Theo's abdomen, and they're close enough for Stiles to feel the heat of his body.

Theo's hands settle around his lower thighs, and Stiles's breath catches. "He's not gonna call you a 'hot piece of ass for alphas to bend over', and get away with it unscathed, the sexist bastard."

Stiles inwardly grits his teeth at Jackson's disdainful words. But his indignation is dulled by the fluttering in his stomach. Theo moves just another inch closer. Their position and proximity, Theo's warm hands on him, are distracting. "So, you broke his arm."

"I would have gone for the balls," replies Theo flatly. "If it wouldn't have sent me straight to juvie in two seconds. Procreation is still an alpha's greatest pride, and it's against the law to sabotage it."

Stiles's mouth twitch. Then he remembers, "Lydia called you my boyfriend because of what you did."

Theo pauses, processing the information. Then his face breaks into a grin, "Nah. I'm worse than any boyfriend or girlfriend you will ever have. I'm a permanent fixture."

Stiles throws his head back in laughter because there's no doubt about that. "I'm counting on that."

***

iv. take me back to the time we had our very first fight

Stiles can't believe his luck.

When Stiles's heat finally comes, it comes unexpectedly, as it's wont to do. Stiles in the treehouse with Theo, snuggling under Theo's bedcovers and telling him about the final volume of his favorite manga, The Fox Prince. All day they've been extra tactile. Like it's physically impossible not to reach out and touch each other. The amount of times Stiles stared and nuzzled absently against Theo's neck is embarrassing. And the smell they make together should have been a dead giveaway. But no, they have to suffer the first-hand ramifications of alpha and omega pheromones clouding one's judgment.

"So, they lived happily ever after," Theo comments drily after Stiles's long and detailed regaling, playing with the short strands of his hair.

Stiles twists his head on Theo's chest to send him a narrow-eyed glare. "And what's wrong with that?"

"It's plenty predictable."

Stiles rises on one elbow to properly have a look at Theo's face. "Of course, it's going to end happily. All of the fans knew from the beginning," Stiles says matter-of-factly. "But the ending's hardly the reason why fans stick to their favorite book, or movie, or TV show. It's the in-between that matters the most. How they got their happy end."

Theo arches a brow, and the corners of his lips pull up to a soft smile. His big hands settle around Stiles's hips. "All right. If you say so, Fox Prince."

Stiles's cheeks heat up, glancing at Theo's mouth and looking away quickly. He's been doing a lot of that today. He mutters, "I'm not calling you Wolf Knight."

Unlike Stiles, Theo shamelessly stares at his mouth. Theo's been doing a lot of that today, too. It's a rather jarring development, but he refuses to overthink his way out of this. His body's telling him it's right. Who's he to oppose? Theo's voice lowers imperceptibly, thumbing under Stiles's shirt and tracing circles around his soft skin. "Why not?"

The heat spreads in Stiles's body at once; strong, and all-consuming, making his toes and fingertips tingle and his core burn. He splays his fingers on Theo's chest, pressing himself against his best friend, and slowly rubbing their scents together. His brain turns hazy with the smell of alpha.

He peppers open mouth kisses on Theo's collarbone as the hands around him grasp tighter, running up to his spine. He arches into the touch, kissing the underside of Theo's jaw. Stiles whispers, "Do you want me to?" but he almost forgets what they're talking about, too busy putting his hands under Theo's shirt to clutch mindlessly on his defined torso without the fabric barrier.

Theo moans, maneuvering Stiles so their bodies align. Him underneath and Stiles above him. He slips a knee in between Stiles's legs, taking the back of his head with one hand and gripping meaningfully at his hair.

Stiles obediently bares his neck.

Theo growls, biting the proffered skin with his blunt teeth before nuzzling his nose along the line of Stiles's shoulder. "You smell so good. Why do you smell so good?" He mutters absently.

Somewhere in his brain, Stiles hears a warning that they're moving too fast, close to crossing a line. But most of his senses are clouded with want, a yearning he's never known before.

"You're so hot," Theo whispers.

Stiles kisses the shell of his ear, instinctively grinding against Theo, chasing the satisfaction he instinctively knows he will find in Theo's body. What was it they were talking about earlier? He can't even remember. His mind is filled to the brink of thoughts of alpha, need, and please.

Suddenly, Theo's body goes rigid, and his hands pause. "Stiles," he says, tone sharp. "You're hot."

Stiles's lips journey down to his chin. "You too," he murmurs.

"No," he shakes his head, and suddenly Theo is yanking on Stiles's shoulders to pull them apart. Stiles looks down at him with hooded eyes. "You're burning."

Stiles is confused. But now that Theo mentions it, yes, he does feel unusually… warm. And he can't think straight. He knows he prefers there to be less distance between Theo and him though. He wants to roll around in their den, clinging to the scent of safety, of home, of unbridled want.

When he moves to close their distance again, Theo immediately sits upright, knocking Stiles off of him like it's a do or die to physically separate them. There's panic in Theo's eyes, and Stiles feels the sting of shame and rejection in his bones. His whimpers, feeling small and inadequate.

"Stiles," Theo scrambles to stand, untangling the sheets from around him. His pupils are lust-blown, but the look of abject horror overpowers it. "Oh crap. You're in heat."

He doesn't remember much of what happens after Theo hurries down the treehouse, but he knows it's a torment without his alpha. He whimpers and whines, smelling his own agony overtaking the atmosphere. Then his parents come, the same look of panic he saw on Theo in his dad's eyes before he, too, scurries to the exit. Theo's mother, Tessa, takes his dad's place, and she and Stiles's mother help Stiles down the treehouse and into Stiles's room.

Then eternity of hollow emptiness after that.

But it's actually only a week. After the seventh day, his heat breaks. And all Stiles is, is a mess.

His mother pokes her head into the room, seeing Stiles lying on the bed staring at the ceiling, reeling from the aftermath of his presentation.

So, Jackson is right after all. He's an omega.

Claudia sits on the edge, reaching to pet his head. She smiles, "How are you, honey?"

Stiles manages to croak out, "Like Hell swallowed me and spat me back out."

Claudia chuckles. Then she sobers up and tells him, "You were lucky you were with Theo when you presented."

Anywhere else would have been dangerous, Stiles knows that much. There's always the risk of some alpha taking advantage. Although, it's more uncommon at present, ever since the emergence of more specified omega laws and pro-omega support groups. It's still a terrifying possibility.

Stiles nods, "I was."

Melissa calls him, asks about his well-being, congratulates Stiles, and tells him he will have Scott bring over omega pamphlets from the hospital. Scott rings him next, sounding like he's a mix of ecstatic that Stiles finally presented nine months after he turned 16, and worried about his orientation.

"Are you all right?" Stiles translates it as: are you all right with being an omega?

"I am," replies Stiles honestly. "I think I kinda knew all along." He's only been reluctant to embrace it because of Jackson and a few other sexist dickheads at school.

But this is him now. And like his parents have always implanted in his brain, like the signboards all around the school say, like the theme of the media he consumes: being an omega is nothing different than being an alpha or a beta. It's only biology, and like everything in the ecosystem, has a purpose no less important than the other species.

"I'm glad Stiles," he can hear the sincerity in Scott's voice. "Remember you have me and Theo."

The next time he sees Theo is when it's his family's turn to host dinner. Their eyes meet, and his face goes up in flame. Stiles can't look his best friend in the eyes without the memories of the treehouse flooding to the forefront of his mind.

God, the way he rubbed himself wantonly against Theo. Definitely not the proper thoughts to be having at the dinner table.

He doesn't know the extent of their parents' knowledge on what took place before Theo sobered up and ran out of the treehouse, but Stiles's mom and dad look at Theo like he had saved the world from an extinction-level event.

Noah claps Theo's back and places a hand on Theo's shoulder. He grins, "Son if you ever need it, you have my blessing."

Stiles's mouth drops. He hisses from his seat, aghast, "Dad!" Because now's the time to joke about them getting together, why not. Stiles fights the urge to burrow underneath the table.

Theo's parents only laugh, but their eyes twinkle, too.

"Uh, thank you, sir." stammers Theo. His is bright red, looking to the world like he wants to be anywhere else but there at the moment. At least, that makes two of them.

Claudia rolls her eyes, playfully smacking the Sheriff's arm. "Stop teasing the boy, Noah." she chides with a smile. Then she leans over the back of Theo's chair and pecks his cheek affectionately, "But for what it's worth, you have mine, too."

Stiles groans and sinks lower in his seat. What do they say about grounds opening and swallowing a person whole? Where's one of those when you need it?

After dinner, one spent sending furtive glances at one another across the table, Theo excuses them, asking Stiles's parents for permission to take Stiles driving around for a little bit.

They try to do it surreptitiously, but Stiles catches the knowing looks that both his and Theo's parents exchange as they make their way out the door.

They take Stiles's Jeep. Theo drives - Stiles trusts only two people to drive his Jeep: Theo and Scott - and Stiles fiddles with the pebble he keeps in his Jeep's compartment, doing his best to reign in his thundering heart. This is the first time they're alone together after… that. He doesn't do a very good job at it, he thinks. He can smell his own nerves.

"I didn't know you kept that," Theo says, breaking the silence.

It takes Stiles a moment to understand what he means, "Oh, this?" He raises the pebble, about half the size of Stiles's palm, smooth and distinctly shaped like a deformed heart, but a heart nonetheless. "Yeah," he says, looking at the object fondly. "It's pretty. I've grown attached since the first time you showed it to me."

"Say the word, and I'll scour the entire creek bed for more."

Stiles blushes but laughs, forgetting his previous anxiety. "I don't think the local environment office will appreciate you rearranging the creek bed, but thanks. The one's enough, though."

"If you say so," replies Theo with a grin.

Their eyes meet briefly, and Stiles uses the easing of tension to finally say it. "Thank you, Theo."

Theo's brow arches in amusement, "For giving you a pebble?"

"For the treehouse," Theo glances at him in surprise. Stiles licks his lips, forcing himself to continue speaking before he loses the gall again. "For being more in control and calling for help. For-" the image of them necking and feeling up each other plague his brain, and he feels himself flushing crimson from the neck up again. He also recalls Theo's panic and pushing Stiles away before running. Stiles doesn't want to think about what else he would've done, what he would've let Theo do if Theo's senses got completely fogged by his omega pheromones. "For saving me from complete and utter humiliation."

Theo doesn't say anything for a while, but Stiles can smell the trepidation on him.

"You don't have to thank me," starts Theo. "I-" he cuts himself off and heaves a deep breath, swallows, tries again. "If anything, I should apologize. I'd noticed the change in your scent before we came up, just thought it was because of that manga you were so excited about. I should've known immediately."

"I should've known immediately," Stiles counters. "I couldn't stop thinking about your neck."

Theo snorts, but there's a remaining scent of guilt lingering in the air.

Stiles reaches out a hand to rest over Theo's on the gearshift. It's such a small gesture, one that he's done countless times throughout the years, but Stiles feels the weight of their touch much more now. Theo glances at their joined hands, then at Stiles. Stiles smiles at him in assurance, "I'm glad it was you."

Theo smiles back, his unease settling at Stiles's words. He twines their pinky fingers, something they've also done countless times before but somehow means differently now. Stiles sighs in contentment, and so does Theo.

When he comes back to school, all eyes are on him. All noses, too, it seems. Stiles expects no less. There aren't many omegas in Beacon Hills and much less in BHHS. In fact, there's only one other currently enrolled. She happens to be in Stiles's year and a werefox like him. And they also have homeroom together.

When Kira enters the room, her eyes immediately find Stiles, and she beams, making her way to him. Everyone's eyes track the progress of her steps, shameless in their gossiping and obvious in their sniffing. Apparently, Stiles and Kira are the hottest topics at school now.

"Hi, Stiles!" She gestures at the seat beside Stiles. "May I sit here?"

Stiles nods eagerly. It's not unsurprising that they instantly fall into a comfortable companionship. Stiles had been Kira's first friend when she first came to BHHS freshman year, helping her figure out her schedule and pointing her in the right directions.

At lunch, Stiles waves at Kira to sit with them. Them being: him, Theo, Scott, and Allison. She comes over smiling, bringing a friend in tow.

"Hey," she greets everyone, high-spirited. She points at the boy behind her. "This is my friend, Isaac. Is it okay if we sit with you, guys?"

Stiles readily scoots to make space, and the two set their trays down. Isaac nods at Theo and Scott. They're teammates in lacrosse, so they're familiar. But while Scott moves to start a friendly conversation, Theo swoops in for his neck.

"So," he starts, unmindful of the pleading expression on Scott's face. "How's Jackson's arm these days?"

Isaac stops short, then shrugs. "We don't hang out much lately."

"Really?" The sarcasm drips from Theo's tone, and Stiles sends him a warning glance. "Weren't you one of his most loyal puppies?"

"Theo," Scott sighs tiredly. It's like they've had the same conversation before.

"Well," Isaac straightens, leveling him with the same look. "Weren't you, too?"

Theo scowls, but before he can retort, Stiles grabs his hand. Theo takes one look at his face, then turns away with a roll in his eyes. He picks up curly fries from Stiles's plate, with Stiles forcing himself not to swat his hand, and opens his phone instead. He keeps Stiles's hand curled against his own and doesn't speak to Isaac the whole lunch period.

Later in the afternoon, Stiles finds Isaac loitering by his Jeep in the parking area, in his lacrosse uniform, clearly waiting for Stiles. The boy lifts his head, likely smelling Stiles, and offers a bashful smile.

"Hey," he says when he's near enough. "What are you doing here?" Stiles asks a little dubiously.

It's not that he doesn't trust Isaac. He's friends with Kira, and Kira is the sweetest girl Stiles knows next to Allison. She wouldn't be comfortable with him if he's still an asshole. But the fact remains that everyone else is in practice, and he's here seeking Stiles out. He can't help but be a little conscious of their privacy. Isaac, after all, used to be one of Jackson's closest friends. He used to laugh along at Jackson's gibes against Stiles. He only distanced himself after Theo left.

Isaac shifts on his feet, not quite meeting Stiles's eyes. "I just- wanna say sorry."

Stiles pauses. "What for?"

He shrugs. "For, you know, teasing you before."

He doesn't expect it, but it feels nice all the same. Stiles nods, smiling. "Yeah, dude. It's all good."

"It's just - I was never a popular kid or anything," he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck with his gaze averted over Stiles's shoulder. "So when Jackson wanted to hang out with me, I thought I had to do everything to keep him around."

Stiles eyes him softly. He's never been this up close to Isaac before, always afraid that he might say something awful. Stiles prefers not to hear what they think about him. But here today, he only looks vulnerable and honest. It's probably the omega in him that wants to console people in distress, even ones that used to cause him anxiety, but he moves forward, a display of trust to Isaac.

He rests a hand on one of his shoulders, drawing Isaac's attention to the touch. "You don't have to explain."

Isaac exhales in relief. "If I could take back all the nasty things I did, I would."

Stiles smiles, "As I said, it's all good. Just don't be a stranger."

Isaac and Stiles end up exchanging phone numbers. He gives Kira's to Stiles, too. They sit together every lunch, and Theo gradually starts talking to Isaac, albeit passive-aggressively. Kira and Stiles grow a sort of bond, being the only omegas in a school full of alphas and betas, and it's all nice, adding two more in Stiles's little group of friends.

Junior year passes. Theo gets into another fight with Jackson, but thankfully, nothing gets broken this time. Scott says Allison's father asked him to go on a hunt with him, which is stellar news for the courting couple because it means they're trusting Scott implicitly to provide for the pack. Kira reveals that she's secretly crushing on Isaac, and Isaac enlists Stiles's help on finally asking Kira out.

"I don't know, Stiles," he says nervously over the phone the evening before the first day of Senior year. "I don't think Mrs. Yukimura likes me that much."

"How can you say so?"

"She gives me the stink eye whenever I come over, and I haven't even hinted at my intention to court Kira."

Stiles snorts, "The stink eye. What are you, twelve?"

Isaac huffs, a little annoyed. "Not everyone's parents play matchmaker like yours and Theo's, you know."

Blushing, Stiles ignores the comment. "Look, stop overthinking. Just do it."

It takes a moment for Isaac to form his reply. When he does, his voice is quiet, "I have nothing to boast. I'm an alpha with no self-confidence. An antithesis to my kind." It's like he doesn't mean to say it out loud when he adds, "My father made sure to beat it all out of me."

Stiles closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. It's a subject they don't talk about. Everyone knows that Isaac's father is in prison for domestic abuse of his son - a result of losing his wife untimely, turning to alcohol to quell his grief, and taking out his anger on their only son. It was a whole commotion in their middle school, just a few months short of Isaac leaving Jackson's group. People gossiped. But since Isaac already established a reputation for being an asshole, nobody dared talk about it. At least, to his face. Isaac moved into his aunt's ever since, who doted on him, but instead of growing out of his shell, he burrowed deeper into it. He maintained the asshole persona, joined the lacrosse team, and pretended nothing could shake him.

He met Kira through her dad in their freshman year. Mr. Yukimura teaches history, and during freshman year, Isaac was the first to receive a detention from him. Isaac sorted through a century's worth of archived international print media, and Kira eagerly jumped in assistance when she came in after her class. Mr. Yukimura invited Isaac to dinner the same night, and it had only been the first of many. He became an almost permanent fixture at the Yukimura's, with Kira's dad taking him as his unofficial student assistant. It gave him so much time to know Kira, grow fond of her, and eventually fall for her.

Even though Isaac doesn't talk about his past abuse, it left a dent in his self-esteem, and it shows. He refers to himself as a dysfunctional alpha because of certain societal stereotypes and unworthy of Kira's attention.

"I'm not good enough for her," Isaac says after a long time of silence.

Stiles replies, "Let her decide for herself. You're a good person, Isaac. Kira knows that. Give it a chance to blossom before you try to kill it."

"Theo's a lucky guy," says Isaac after a second of silence. Before Stiles can ask him what he even means by that, he's already saying his goodbye. "Thank you, Stiles. See you tomorrow."

Stiles spends another minute staring at the ceiling of his room, contemplating Isaac and Kira's mutual feelings for each other and the sure chance that, should things go to plan as they likely will, his friends will officially begin courting. The thought brings a smile to his face.

He's settling into his blanket when he hears it: a soft tapping pattern on his window. He gets up, already knowing who he's going to see on the other side. Theo has knocked on his bedroom window - the one facing the front of the house, not the one overlooking Theo's own bedroom - so many times now that Stiles is in tune with the pattern.

He slides the window open, smiling at the beaming face of his best friend. "I thought you guys were doing a family thing?"

Tara is home from college. After tonight's dinner at the Raekens, one which Stiles spent talking to Tara about the ending of The Fox Prince even though they'd already freaked out to each other on Skype the week of the release, Theo understandably cancels their evening stroll in the creek. They are taking Tara out because she's only staying for a few days.

"We just got back," Theo helps Stiles climb out the window and onto the terrace roof.

When they are seated, facing the full moon, Theo says, "I gotta give you something," and takes out a small velvet box from his pocket.

Stiles looks at the box, stunned. The logo at the top makes his mouth drop open, gasping, "It's The Fox Prince limited edition collectible ring set!" Stiles takes the box from Theo with the utmost gentleness, as if the wrong brush of his finger will dissolve it into a mist. "Oh my god!" he exclaims, turning to Theo with shining eyes. "Did Tara give this to you?"

Theo pauses, but Stiles is too busy admiring the box to notice. Instead of answering, Theo nudges Stiles's shoulder, "Open it."

Stiles looks at him again, astonished, and nods. Carefully, he opens the ring box and squeals in excitement at the sight of two gold bands, genuine 18 karat gold bands, that he only ever fantasized about while reading the manga. Now he's holding the impression marriage rings of his most favorite fictional couple.

Theo takes the band with the symbol Ω and takes Stiles's left hand. Stiles watches in awe as Theo smoothly slides the ring to his pale finger, the exact size for it, and drops a featherlight kiss on his knuckles.

Stiles admires the ring as it glows under the moonlight. "It's so beautiful." After a few more seconds, Stiles moves to take it off, but Theo stops him, confused.

"What are you doing?"

"Taking it off," replies Stiles, also confused.

Theo frowns, "I thought you liked it."

"I do!" Stiles hastily affirms. "But if it's Tara's-"

"It's yours," Theo cuts him off, rolling his eyes. "I put it on your finger."

"But-"

Theo abruptly interrupts his protest. "Stiles," he intones his name a little exasperatedly. "Remove it only if you don't want it."

Stiles hesitates, stares at the perfectly-sized ring around his finger, and chooses to indulge. He's wearing the promise of commitment of the Wolf Knight to the Fox Prince. It only took them years to arrive at that moment.

Picking up the box from his lap, he plucks the second gold band, one marked with Α, and smirks playfully at his best friend. "So I take it you want to be my Wolf Knight," he jokes. "You didn't have to beat me up after all."

"I want to be," Theo replies seriously. "If you will allow me."

Stiles shivers slightly from the night air, mostly from the look in Theo's eyes.

He swallows, reaching for Theo's hand. He slides the ring into his finger, and it fits. Stiles can't believe their luck. The rings fit exactly like they're made for them. They fit perfectly like Stiles sometimes thinks he fits perfectly with Theo.

This childhood crush is going to be the death of him.

Or maybe his obliviousness will. And Theo's temper.

It crashes a month into Senior year. Isaac ended up not confessing his intentions of courting Kira the night before Senior year, and both he and Kira are getting frustrated, and by extension, Stiles. The scent is all he can smell from them whenever Stiles is around one or both of them. He takes to spending more time talking Isaac out of his nerves - at school, during track practice together (because Isaac also does track on top of lacrosse), over the phone, even during the weekend. And Kira, too, to listen to her wax poetry about Isaac's blue eyes and blond curls. And how she's sure he feels the same, but he looks away when she thinks they're gaining progress, and she's back to square one.

Ultimately, Stiles has Isaac writing his confession if talking isn't cutting it. Isaac cocks his head thoughtfully, then nods and writes a whole freaking narrative poetry or something. It's so well constructed, all of his thoughts flowing smoothly like the water in the Preserve creek, and Stiles is dumbstruck. They should've done this a long time ago.

He keeps the draft of Isaac's letter, thinking about framing it for his friends' first wedding anniversary in the future, and of course, Theo finds it.

And he absolutely flips.

Stiles can't believe his luck.

"We're you ever going to tell me?" Theo growls in anger, knuckles white on the steering wheel, eyes red as he drives home.

Stiles can't help but whimper. The scent of Theo's fury is sharp against his nostrils, and it hurts. He wants to reach out and appease the alpha, but he's also upset for being yelled at for no reason. His eyes sting with tears threatening to spill any second. He holds onto his own keys, his Jeep abandoned in the school parking lot, and snaps back.

"Tell you what?"

Theo growls again, pressing the car horn hard, the opposing cars veering away in alarm, and bares his fangs at the road. The veins in his arm and neck stick out prominent, and Stiles really sees the physical difference between an alpha and omega. Stiles has always been taller than Theo. His long, lithe, agile legs are the most remarkable features, the apotheosis of a werefox. But while he's always been lean in structure from the omega gene, Theo is broad, strong, and imposing. He loves it about Theo. So Stiles hates that it's scaring him now.

"That you were courting with someone else!"

"I'm not!"

Theo's eyes flash, "I saw Isaac's confession, Stiles. Don't lie to me!" He doesn't give Stiles a chance to speak, to correct his assumption, because he continues, still as livid, but the hurt is also bleeding in his voice. "How are you still wearing my ring if you're breaking intentions with me?"

Stiles is gobsmacked, "Breaking intentions- what?"

"His scent is all over you, fuck!" He swears, turning to their block with a hard turn. He grits his teeth, jaw clenching tight. "How could I be so stupid?"

When Theo screeches to a stop in Stiles's gate, Stiles hurries to get off his truck. The atmosphere inside is suffocating. "Yes!" He cries indignantly. "The confession was for Kira if you cared to read the entire letter before going feral on me. So, yes, how could you be so stupid?"

Stiles slams the door of Theo's truck, the gate, the front door, and the door to his room. He slams his windows shut, both of it, rolls the blinds down because Theo will try to reach out, and Stiles just doesn't have it in him to deal with him right now.

He refuses to go down to dinner, telling his mother to absolutely not let Theo in no matter what he says. Scott drives his Jeep home with the spare key but doesn't ask to talk to him. Scott shoots Stiles a message instead, telling him to call whenever he can. His dad knocks on his door, asking if he needs to snap someone's neck off.

"It's just a misunderstanding, dad," he says weakly.

"You're not eating dinner or going out of your room because of a misunderstanding?"

Stiles sighs, deep-set. "It's a really crap misunderstanding."

His dad also sighs behind the door, "All right. Tell us if you need anything, okay?" He walks away, leaving Stiles to his thoughts.

He's staring at his ring, replaying the conversation in the car again and again, when he hears the faint rhythm of Theo's rapping on his window. He sighs.

"You don't have to let me in, or say anything, or even listen to me," Theo says to begin, sobered up and apologetic. The scent of remorse pouring out of Theo is evident even with the wall barricading them. Stiles hears rustling and the sound of Theo's back thudding against his windowpane. "I just- want you to know I'm sorry."

His heart has always been soft for Theo. He could never resist him when they were boys, and he doesn't know how to start doing it now. Stiles seeks him out, missing him when they're apart for an indefinite amount of time. It's not because he's an alpha or Stiles's best friend. He has two of those. But his affection for Theo is for a different reason.

Theo heaves a deep breath, "I acted terribly out of line."

Stiles throws his blanket aside and gets to his feet. Theo momentarily falters, startled by the sound of Stiles's movement. Stiles imagines him straining his ear, trying to determine whether Stiles is moving closer or away. As Stiles takes his steps toward the window, Theo's heartbeat steadily grows louder and faster, matching Stiles's own. They'd always been perfectly synchronized, now that Stiles thinks about it.

He stops, right by where Theo's sitting. Stiles waits until Theo speaks again.

"I was jealous," Theo admits, voice tinged with embarrassment. "It's not an excuse, but it's the truth. I knew you were friendly with Isaac, and that's fine. But I started catching his scent on you even when he's not around. It drove me insane. The letter was the last straw."

"It wasn't for me," says Stiles quietly.

Theo sighs, swallowing. His head thuds softly against the pane. "I know that now. I was hasty to think of the worst. I just- I was scared."

Stiles takes one more step, putting him right against the window. He places a hand over the blinds and imagines touching Theo's back without the barrier between them. He looks at his ringed finger and says, "You don't have to be. Scared, I mean."

Theo holds his breath in reply.

Stiles rolls up the blinds, revealing Theo, who shifts to face him immediately. Their eyes meet; Theo hopeful and Stiles in wonder.

He lifts his window and leans over the sill. They stare at each other for a few more, Theo not moving further before Stiles finally asks the question he's been longing to ask. "Do you really want to be my Wolf Knight? Like, for real?"

Theo answers without missing a beat. "Since we were twelve."

Stiles is stunned. He gestures at their ringed fingers, "So- the rings-"

"Aren't Tara's," Theo finishes for him. "I've been saving to buy an actual ring since we were fifteen. It's by chance that your favorite book sells an actual pair of gold promise bands. I asked Tara to buy them in Los Angeles before she came home."

Stiles can't believe his ears right now. All this time?

Faintly, he asks. "The treehouse?"

Theo nods, "Is for you. It's an experimental project for when I give you the real thing."

It's taking everything in Stiles not to tear up right now. It's so… romantic, damn it. He wishes he could bottle up this moment to visit it, over and over again. He only ever felt this while reading The Fox Prince.

Stiles moves first, reaching out to curl a hand at the back of Theo's neck. Theo follows his beckoning, crouching low and drawing near until their foreheads are touching and their breaths mingling.

"You have me at day one," Stiles confesses. Theo cups his neck as well, tracing patterns against the moles of Stiles's skin, his own ring glinting in the night light. Stiles grins, "So, all right," Theo's face breaks into a blinding smile of his own. "I'll be your Fox Prince. For real."

Theo closes their distance, and they kiss, the first of many they will share. And it's gentle, no more than a pressing of the lips, but it's a vow. And, god, will they make good of it.

***

v. take me back to the time when we walked down the aisle

Stiles can't believe his luck.

After that first kiss on the window of Stiles's room, Theo officially asks Stiles's parents for their blessing to court him. Their dads shake each other's hands, joking for old time's sake.

"I always said they looked good together, Noah."

"And I always said I would love to have Theo as my son-in-law, Rick."

Their mothers are absolutely delighted with the news, smacking kisses all over their faces.

"My baby," Theo's mom coos, "Not a baby anymore."

Theo groans but doesn't pull away from her.

Claudia cups Stiles's face and whispers so no one else hears. "I'm glad it's Theo."

"Me too, mom." Stiles laughs. "God, me too."

The news quickly spread around the school. After all, the only two omegas in attendance are both exclusively courting almost at the same time. Isaac's letter worked. And though he almost shit himself while revealing his intentions to Mrs. Yukimura, she accepted. With no ounce of doubt that her only daughter is in good hands.

Jackson walks up to Stiles in the cafeteria. Theo moves to intercept him, but Stiles stops him with a hand to his chest. Jackson looks reluctant, but he forces himself to smirk.

"Congratulations, Stilinski," he says. "Although, I think you could do better than Raeken."

Theo growls in warning, and Scott sighs exasperatedly like they've had this conversation before. "Jackson,"

Jackson pays him no mind, slipping his gaze to Theo. He casually shrugs, "You couldn't have run fast enough, anyway. He was always going to catch you."

He backs away, nodding one last time at Stiles. "Have a good life, Stilinski." Then he walks back to his own table and kisses Lydia in the mouth. Their eyes briefly meet over Jackson's shoulder, and she, too, smirks before giving her full attention and brightest smile to Jackson.

It's the closest thing to an apology Stiles could get from Jackson. It's good enough.

Senior year passes by in a blur. Lacrosse finals find BHHS winning against Devenford Prep for the first time in many years. Stiles says goodbye to the track team and grimaces his way through Coach Finstock's speech about how the losers left on the team better start watching werefox documentaries to learn how to match up to the speed of one. Prom comes and goes. A whirlwind of college acceptance letters, and then graduation.

Stiles and Theo work through a long-distance relationship. With Theo attending UCLA - where Tara is taking her graduate studies - to study architecture and Stiles attending a pre-FBI program in Quantico while gearing up for criminology. It's both a surprise and not. Stiles has always admired the work of his father, appreciates law enforcement. And though he never particularly voiced his desire to follow the same steps, his parents support his decision. And so does Theo.

They communicate a lot, but it unavoidably almost fractures their relationship the first year apart. The end of the second year finds them agreeing to take a break from the courting without fully being uncommitted. Stiles struggles the first half of the third year, missing Theo so much and worrying about him finding someone else in his absence. When they come home for Christmas break during the fourth year, Theo drives Stiles up to the Preserve creek.

They sit on the tailgate of Theo's old truck, flushed against each other, their pinky fingers twining in between them. Stiles can feel Theo's Wolf Knight band against his finger and smiles to himself. After they broke up, they never talked about returning or removing the rings. It was to stay true to the plan to pick up their relationship when time allows them a better chance.

Theo hops off the truck, Stiles tracking his movements like he always does. Theo rolls his pant hems up and steps into the flowing water, picking a handful of pebbles and throwing them one by one back a little further.

"You'll be staying in Virginia after graduation, right?" Theo asks suddenly.

Stiles's mouth opens in surprise, hesitates, closes again. Then he clears his throat, "Yeah," he replies tentatively. "How did you know?"

"Your dad told me," Theo admits without breaking his pace.

Stiles sighs. He says weakly, "I was going to tell you."

No answer.

"It's only for a couple of years," he adds abruptly. "Scott's dad, he's an agent, put in a recommendation, and his seniors are recruiting me into the Bureau after my final exams. And they'll be assigning me specifically to the Omega Special Task Force. I just- think I'll do a really great job specializing the omega cases." he finishes, voice getting quieter in the last few words.

Theo stops, turns to Stiles, smiling faintly. "I'm sure you'll be one of the best."

"Are you- " Stiles pauses, dreading the answer to his next question. It's only been companionable thus far, but this crucial discussion about their relationship is always going to come. "Are you upset? Do you want to... terminate our commitment? For real?"

Theo gets off the water, drops all the remaining pebbles with a splash save for one, and walks into Stiles's space without hesitation. He pushes the pebble into Stiles's palm - another heart-shaped one would you look at that - and takes Stiles's face in between his hands. Their gazes lock, and he says, "My love is not fragile, Stiles. It can wait."

Stiles's breath catches. They have never used the word love in their relationship before. But after all this time, he knows what they have is that. He closes his hand tightly around the pebble.

"I love you, too," Stiles whispers.

Theo smiles wide, "Just think of this like that time the Fox Prince and his Wolf Knight had to part to work on making themselves ready, their warring clans consumed by old vendetta ready, for when they fall back together."

They drive back home more faithful of their bond that by the time Christmas and New Year are over, Theo drives Stiles to the airport without the anxiety of separation but the anticipation of seeing each other again.

Two years fly by quickly. They see each other twice in that period: once when Theo and Stiles's parents visit him together. And the other when Theo visits him alone.

They talk through Skype and Facetime and the old school phone call, sometimes with their other friends, too. About what they've been up to, their work, their plans. Theo's been busy; overseeing a project for the past year now, but he says it's almost through. He tells Stiles that he can show it when he comes home for Christmas - two years from the first Christmas when they said their first 'I love you'.

Theo picks him up at the airport, and Stiles launches straight into his arms. He nuzzles Theo's neck, practically inhaling the scent he's yearned for so much, mumbling how much he misses him and pulls him into a passionate kiss right there in the crowded arrival area.

Stiles's parents host the Christmas dinner with the assistance of Theo's parents. Tara comes home, a beta boyfriend named Jordan in tow, who's, coincidentally, Sheriff Stilinski's newest deputy. Melissa comes over with Scott and Allison. Isaac and Kira, too, who's four months pregnant with their first child. When it's time for the presents, Theo leans into Stiles and whispers in his ear that his gift is outside.

Everyone shuffles to the backyard, and Stiles gasps when he sees it: a bed of the first edition copies of The Fox Prince - all 365 of them - lying on the grass in the shape of a heart, surrounded by candles and a smattering of rose petals. Theo moves forward, handing one to Stiles, open to a specific page. Stiles can suddenly hear his heart thundering in his ears because he thinks he knows what he will see when he looks down.

"Spend the rest of your life with me, my Fox Prince."

"My afterlife is yours as well, my Wolf Knight."

Stiles's mother starts to weep behind him, his dad consoling her. Kira is crying, too, full-on sobbing in Isaac's chest. Pregnancy hormones, she will say later. Scott looks like he's close to losing it, too. After all, they're his best friends. And this is a long time coming.

Theo takes Stiles's hand in his, caressing the ring on his finger, the one he slipped into Stiles many years ago.

"Spend the rest of your life with me, my Fox Prince," he says.

Stiles's throat closes up, his eyes welling up in tears. "My afterlife is yours as well," he replies in kind, voice hitching. "My Wolf Knight."

***

vi. take me home where we met so many years before

"Almost there," Theo says, guiding a blindfolded Stiles to the backyard of his childhood home.

Stiles chuckles, holding onto Theo's hand. "Where are you taking me?"

Theo snorts, "Yeah, it's not like you don't have these directions memorized by now."

"Right, okay," concedes Stiles. "So we're going to the treehouse," Stiles laughs, stumbling a little and Theo catching him immediately. "But why?"

"I told you, my wedding gift to you is in there."

"I'm really starting to feel insufficient," Stiles mutters in a half-assed complaint. "First, you give me a real-life 18 karat omega gold ring from my favorite manga's limited collectible items - when you were seventeen. Then you buy me the entire first edition collection of said manga, which, by the way, I'm still not convinced that you got on e-Bay." Stiles practically hears Theo's eyes rolling. "And now, you have this mysterious wedding gift that took you a while, and probably a lot of money, to acquire. But then there's me. Aside from my lifelong devotion and virginity, I gave you nothing on par with what you've given to me."

They stop, Theo taking off his blindfold. Stiles blinks, mouth falling open at the sight of pictures and hanging lights adorning the outside of the treehouse, like a waterfall of stars and memories.

Stiles climbs the same rickety ladder, almost brains himself from the same protruding nail by the door, they have to crouch low to fit inside, the wood planks are old and creaky, and the window is slightly smaller than Stiles's head now. The space is clear save for Stiles's old mini bookshelf full of werewolf and werefox tales, the blue paint is faded, but the branches are still mindfully trimmed for the stars to be visible through the same skylight of their childhood. Stiles thinks it's even more amazing now with the years of memories it holds.

In the center, where the pictures and hanging lights cascade more densely, is a velvet box.

Stiles laughs from inexplicable joy. "I'm already married to you. Why are you still gifting me more rings?"

Theo nudges him forward, "Open it."

Stiles kneels, takes the box, and opens it.

"A key?" He turns to Theo, curious. "A key to what?"

Theo smiles his little lopsided one that always makes Stiles's heart tumble. "To the palace that the Wolf Knight built for his Fox Prince."

Stiles stops short, eyes widening. The project that Theo's been working on for close to two years now, that he's very secretive about. It makes sense now. Stiles almost investigated but reckons Theo will tell him in time. And finally, the key to that pet project is in Stiles's hands.

"Someone told me before that omegas create the den," Theo adds, kneeling in after Stiles. He wipes the wayward tear that escapes Stiles's eye. "And you're wrong, you know. You give me everything I need. I can't wait for you to turn our house into a home."

Stiles sniffles, shaking his head. "I don't deserve you."

"You deserve the world," corrects Theo.

And, oh, Stiles can't believe his luck.

***

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kcrabb88 · 3 years ago

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Queer Movies/Books/TV Shows for Pride Month!

Happy Pride everyone!! For your viewing/reading pleasure I have made a (non-exhaustive) list of queer media that I have enjoyed!

Movies/Documentaries

Pride (2014): An old tried and true favorite, which meets at the intersection of queer and workers’ rights. A group of queer activists support the 1985 miners’ strike in Wales (complete with a sing-through of Bread and Roses + Power in a Union)

Portrait of a Lady on Fire: On an isolated island in Brittany at the end of the eighteenth century, a female painter is obliged to paint a wedding portrait of a young woman (or, two young lesbians fall in love by the sea, and you cry)

God’s Own Country: Young farmer Johnny Saxby numbs his daily frustrations with binge drinking and casual sex, until the arrival of a Romanian migrant worker for lambing season ignites an intense relationship that sets Johnny on a new path (Seriously this movie is GREAT and doesn’t get enough love, watch it! It’s rough but ends happily)

The Half of It: When smart but cash-strapped teen Ellie Chu agrees to write a love letter for a jock, she doesn't expect to become his friend - or fall for his crush (as in she falls for his crush who is another girl. This movie was so good, and really friendship focused!)

Saving Face: A Chinese-American lesbian and her traditionalist mother are reluctant to go public with secret loves that clash against cultural expectations (this is an oldie and a goodie, with a happy ending!)

Moonlight: A young African-American man grapples with his identity and sexuality while experiencing the everyday struggles of childhood, adolescence, and burgeoning adulthood (featuring gay men of color!)

Carol: An aspiring photographer develops an intimate relationship with an older woman in 1950s New York (everyone’s seen this I think, but I couldn’t not have it here)

Milk: The story of Harvey Milk and his struggles as an American gay activist who fought for gay rights and became California's first openly gay elected official (the speech at the end of this made me cry. Warning, of course, for death, if you don’t know about Harvey Milk)

Pride (Hulu Documentary): A six-part documentary series chronicling the fight for LGBTQ civil rights in America (they go by decade from the 50s-2000s, and there is a lot of great trans inclusion in this)

Paris is Burning (Documentary): A 1990s documentary about the African American and Latinx ballroom scene. Available on Youtube!

A New York Christmas Wedding: As her Christmas Eve wedding draws near, Jennifer is visited by an angel and shown what could have been if she hadn't denied her true feelings for her childhood best friend (this movie is SO CUTE. It’s really only nominally a Christmas movie and easily watched anytime. Features an interracial sapphic couple!)

TV Shows

Love, Victor: Victor is a new student at Creekwood High School on his own journey of self-discovery, facing challenges at home, adjusting to a new city, and struggling with his sexual orientation (this is a spin-off of Love, Simon, and it’s very sweet and well done! Featuring a young gay man of color)

Sex Education: A teenage boy with a sex therapist mother teams up with a high school classmate to set up an underground sex therapy clinic at school (this has multiple queer characters, including a featured young Black gay man and also in season 2 there is a side ace character!)

Black Sails: I mean, do I even need to put a summary here? If you follow me you know that Black Sails is full of queer pirates, just queers everywhere.

Gentleman Jack: A dramatization of the life of LGBTQ+ trailblazer, voracious learner and cryptic diarist Anne Lister, who returns to Halifax, West Yorkshire in 1832, determined to transform the fate of her faded ancestral home Shibden Hall (Period drama lesbians!!! A title sequence that will make you gay just by watching!)

Tales of the City (2019): A middle-aged Mary Ann returns to San Francisco and reunites with the eccentric friends she left behind. "Tales of the City" focuses primarily on the people who live in a boardinghouse turned apartment complex owned by Anna Madrigal at 28 Barbary Lane, all of whom quickly become part of what Maupin coined a "logical family". It's no longer a secret that Mrs. Madrigal is transgender. Instead, she is haunted by something from her past that has long been too painful to share (this is based on a book series and it’s got lots of great inter-generational queer relationships!)

The Haunting of Bly Manor: After an au pair’s tragic death, Henry hires a young American nanny to care for his orphaned niece and nephew who reside at Bly Manor with the chef Owen, groundskeeper Jamie and housekeeper, Mrs. Grose (sweet, tender, wonderful lesbians. A bittersweet ending but this show is so so wonderful)

Sense8: A group of people around the world are suddenly linked mentally, and must find a way to survive being hunted by those who see them as a threat to the world's order (queers just EVERYWHERE in this show, of all kinds)

Books

Loveless by Alice Oseman: Georgia has never been in love, never kissed anyone, never even had a crush – but as a fanfic-obsessed romantic she’s sure she’ll find her person one day. This wise, warm and witty story of identity and self-acceptance sees Alice Oseman on towering form as Georgia and her friends discover that true love isn’t limited to romance (don’t be turned off by this title, it’s tongue-in-cheek. This is a book about an aroace college girl discovering herself and centers the importance and power of platonic relationships! I have it on my TBR and have heard great things)

Detransition, Baby by Torrey Peters: Reese almost had it all: a loving relationship with Amy, an apartment in New York City, a job she didn't hate. She had scraped together what previous generations of trans women could only dream of: a life of mundane, bourgeois comforts. The only thing missing was a child. But then her girlfriend, Amy, detransitioned and became Ames, and everything fell apart. Now Reese is caught in a self-destructive pattern: avoiding her loneliness by sleeping with married men.Ames isn't happy either. He thought detransitioning to live as a man would make life easier, but that decision cost him his relationship with Reese—and losing her meant losing his only family. Even though their romance is over, he longs to find a way back to her. When Ames's boss and lover, Katrina, reveals that she's pregnant with his baby—and that she's not sure whether she wants to keep it—Ames wonders if this is the chance he's been waiting for. Could the three of them form some kind of unconventional family—and raise the baby together?This provocative debut is about what happens at the emotional, messy, vulnerable corners of womanhood that platitudes and good intentions can't reach. Torrey Peters brilliantly and fearlessly navigates the most dangerous taboos around gender, sex, and relationships, gifting us a thrillingly original, witty, and deeply moving novel (again, don’t be thrown off by the title, it too, is tongue-in-cheek. This book was GREAT, and written by a trans women with a queer-and especially trans--audience in mind)

A Tip for the Hangman by Allison Epstein: A gay Christopher Marlowe, at Cambridge and trying to become England’s best new playwright, finds himself wrapped up in royal espionage schemes while also falling in love (this book is by a Twitter friend of mine, and it is a wonderful historical thriller with a gay man at the center).

Creatures of Will and Temper by Molly Tanzer: a very very queer remix of The Picture of Dorian Gray (which was already quite queer), featuring amazing female characters, a gay Basil, and a much happier ending than the original.

Red, White, and Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston: The gay prince of England and the bisexual, biracial first son of the president fall in love (think an AU of 2016 where a woman becomes president). Featuring a fantastic discovery of bisexuality, ruminations on grief, and just a truly astonishing book. One of my favorites!

One Last Stop by Casey McQuiston: For cynical twenty-three-year-old August, moving to New York City is supposed to prove her right: that things like magic and cinematic love stories don’t exist, and the only smart way to go through life is alone. She can’t imagine how waiting tables at a 24-hour pancake diner and moving in with too many weird roommates could possibly change that. And there’s certainly no chance of her subway commute being anything more than a daily trudge through boredom and electrical failures. But then, there’s this gorgeous girl on the train (This is Casey McQuiston’s brand new novel featuring time-travel, queer women, and I absolutely cannot WAIT to read it)

The Heiress by Molly Greely: Set in the Pride and Prejudice universe, this takes on Anne de Bourg (Lady Catherine’s daughter), and makes her queer!

Tipping the Velvet by Sarah Waters: Nan King, an oyster girl, is captivated by the music hall phenomenon Kitty Butler, a male impersonator extraordinaire treading the boards in Canterbury. Through a friend at the box office, Nan manages to visit all her shows and finally meet her heroine. Soon after, she becomes Kitty's dresser and the two head for the bright lights of Leicester Square where they begin a glittering career as music-hall stars in an all-singing and dancing double act. At the same time, behind closed doors, they admit their attraction to each other and their affair begins (Sarah Waters is the queen of historical lesbians. All of her books are good, and they’re all gay! The Paying Guests is another great one)

(On a side note re: queer books, there are MANY, these are just ones I’ve read more recently. Also there are a lot of indie/self-published writers doing great work writing queer books, so definitely support your local indie authors!)

#I am inevitably forgetting things!!!#These are just ones that came to mind #Long post #Pride

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fluffi · 4 years ago

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SARCOLINE SUNSET I: WELCOME HOME, OUTSIDER :: SOOBIN

pairing: soobin x gn!reader, platonic!ot5 x gn!reader genre: fluff, some subjective angst, bits of humor, enemies-to-lovers, childhood friends word count: 4002 event: #summerscape for @kpopscape credit: @enha-woodzies for making the gfx for this series! show her some love <3 author’s note: i accidentally deleted this post so here is a rushed reupload. it might not be as good as the original because it isnt proof read as well but i still hope the algorithm picks it up, maybe this’ll be good for the post. Also, the second part will be coming out in 15 days. warnings: people disappearing, mentions of burning and fire (further warnings will be released in the next parts as the story gets darker)

THIS STORY IS PURELY A WORK OF FICTION AND DOES NOT DICTATE JAY OR NI-KI’S PERSONAL LIVES AND/OR FAMILY.

part two ->

The blonde stared up at an intricately designed structure in awe, walking forward to touch the sides of it and running his calloused hands up and down its rusted carved wedges. It seemed oddly cliche and unrealistic, but he could feel its story. Every touch of the ceramic pillar provided him with emotion that he couldn’t bring himself to explain.

The sun hadn’t set yet, but he could make out the faint reflection of it settling in the background. The huge pine trees around him were making conversation with each other; their faint whispers and rustles providing peace to his veins.

So entranced in the scenery of such a mystical place, he forgot to watch out for his younger peer. Kicking back into his senses, he nervously called out, “Riki! You there?” His voice, usually strong and boisterous, laced fear today.

“Don’t worry about me Jay, I’m right behind you. Just climbing this fence..and..there!” Riki let out a grunt as he jumped onto the soft grass, looking at his older friend with an innocent grin.

At the sight of his buddy, Jay visibly loosened. It was clear that he didn’t feel safe in this environment, yet felt entranced to it in some way. Riki caught up to him in a quick jog before standing next to Jay, in awe at the magnificent view that they were spectating for the first and possibly last time.

“Is this…the place you were talking about?” Riki was out of breath from running after his peer. He pats the grassy patch below him before slumping onto it, crossing his legs afterward.

Jay took a seat next to him, setting his canvas satchel and leather jacket next to him. “According to the maps and books, this is the right spot. I just want to see if the myth is true.”

Riki clapped his hands in excitement and turned to face Jay. “We’re staying till the sun sets right? I want to see what the carousel looks like at night! This structure is so fascinating. It must be beautiful out here at night.”

“No, we’re walking back as soon as the sun goes down. I do not want to risk being out here at night. People have disappeared from staying too long and I wouldn’t want to worry your mother.”

Riki visibly slumped and turned back in time to see the last drop of orange dip. It was quiet for a while. The singing birds stopped humming their soulful tunes, yet the whispering trees grew louder, their inaudible gossip echoing in the ears of the two boys.

At nine at night, Riki’s mother would call Jay, heeding no response. She would do the same for his parents and his friends. The only piece of information they could provide was that Jay had brought Riki, in his words, to “a magical place”. With no other vital details they could draw from their son’s peers, Jay and Riki’s family agree to call the local police, reporting two missing people: two minors, one last seen in a brown leather jacket, and a taller one tailing alongside him. Both their hairs were dyed in a striking shade of blonde.

Summer’s heat-blasted onto your skin as soon as you stepped out of your sleek white Toyota. It was good to be back, you supposed. Although it was something that not many people would fawn over, you were ecstatic to be home in town.

Leaving at the mere age of sixteen wasn’t easy. After your parents decided that you were too good for a mediocre high school where people cared more about their body count than grade count, they immediately sent you off to a prestigious boarding school in the big city. You were given three days to pack and say goodbye to your friends, the rest of your family, your world. As excited as you were to study in the evolutionary epicenter of technology, you didn’t like how you had almost no say in this decision.

You didn’t return home from high school even after four years of studying at that mentally draining institution. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to come back, you were just so accustomed to life in the big city that it seemed pointless to return to square one. With the rest of the world finally in your grip (or so you thought), you enrolled in a highly expensive university and received a full-ride scholarship.

Perhaps that was your breaking point. Piles of work that could never be cleared must’ve got to your head. No one out there seemed to care about your mental health and well-being. The only reason you were allowed to take a break from the university and return was because of your constant breakdowns that your lecturers called “distracting” and “unethical”. You were hoping that this drop-by in town would give you a physical and mental cleanse.

There was no place as hot as home, from where you had been. The blazing sun scorched onto the road. Carrying baggage by itself was already hard enough, but this heat was immensely torturing. You struggled to carry your belongings while trying to close the car boot at the same time. Oh, a pity. You had just returned home and you were slowly turning into a bundle of disorganization, unlike your previous methodical attitude.

“Need a hand?” A familiar suede voice behind your shoulder sounded like music to your ears as you dropped all of your luggage and turned back to see…

“Taehyun!” Child best friend number one. You were looking at a once-innocent boy with doe eyes who had matured into a fine young man. His hair was dyed platinum blonde and, although younger than you, possessed a flair that was completely unlike his past self. His facial features were more prominent than ever and you wondered if all of your friends had developed as well as he had.

You locked your arms around his neck and embraced him as he took your baggage from you.

“You’re so tall now!” You gasped in awe and looked him up and down.

“Of course I am! A boy has to grow, doesn’t he?”

Speak of the devil(s), four people tagged behind Taehyun, waiting for you to notice their presence. All of them were just as tall (if not taller) than your blonde friend and stood out like a sore thumb. It wasn’t just the height, their hair was also in very...exciting colors.

“Can’t believe you forgot about us just for Taehyun.” Ah, that nasal voice was so recognizable. Choi Yeonjun, second-best friend. You cherished him like he was your secret weapon, a power waiting to be unleashed into your industrial world. Although older than Taehyun, they seemed to be the same height now. You couldn’t tell because his new neon pink hair was waxed slick and puffy which made him look a teensy bit taller than his younger friend. You had seen him around on social media and he was a hair-changing chameleon.

Alongside Yeonjun was Hueningkai, better known as Kai in the friend group. He was the youngest one, constantly babied and spoiled, you could say. He was probably influenced by the rest of his friends too, his hair now in a mossy shade of blonde.

Poor Yeonjun, you completely disregarded his existence and dashed over to Kai instead, eagerly standing next to him to compare heights. The kid had grown so much, you couldn’t tell if you were contented that he was now taller than you or dejected that you had missed so much when you weren’t around.

“Hey, wait up!” Someone from behind called. With Hueningkai and Yeonjun blocking your view you couldn’t see who that one person walking next to Choi Beomgyu was.

Beomgyu, the last friend who joined the friend group. He was always a comedian and never failed to make your day. Although, he didn’t seem so smiley anymore. You figured that it was school stress and adulting getting the best of him. We all had those days; you regrettably knew them like you knew the back of your hand . Unlike the rest of his friends, Beomgyu’s hair was kept in a natural shade of ivory brown. He had never been swayed by the rest of the crowd.

There were so many things to do, so many people to see. You had missed out on most of your growing: having fun with friends, staying up late at night just to watch the stars, dancing on your balcony. You had missed the people too. The town felt different from when you had left it.

“Soobin! Don’t just stand behind, meet our friend! They just returned from the city, right?” Beomgyu ran over to you before giving you a little squeeze.

Who’s Soobin?

“Hey, I’m Choi Soobin. Twenty-one this year. I moved here a few years ago. You must have left before I showed up.” A simple and concise introduction from the blue-haired man. Maybe he was the root of this hair-dyeing trend in town (pun very much intended), as well as the height trend since he was just as tall, if not taller than the rest of the boys.

You briefly introduced yourself but that was about it. You didn’t know how to create small talk, nonetheless with someone completely unfamiliar to you.

Later that day, you wondered if he had replaced you, become another guardian in the friend group. As one of the oldest, you and Yeonjun were always known as the parents of your three “kids”, but Soobin seemed to take care of them equally well. Throughout the day, you watched his every action, how he helped Beomgyu with homework, how he styled Kai’s hair, how he treated Taehyun to his favorite meal, exactly like what you did when you were still around. For once, you felt like the outsider.

Marshmallow Night had always been a tradition here. It was a five-of-you kind of thing, well, the six-of-you now. It had always been the go-to celebration whenever one of you hit a milestone, or was just held for fun. The days of joy where the only thing you had to worry about was whether your smores were burnt.

It had changed a lot over the years, you guys would add some new events to it and remove the ones you guys outgrew, like hopscotch.

You had missed most of its evolution.

Instead of being the main catalyst for today’s event, you resorted to sitting at the side as Soobin took the lead, carrying tables back and forth as well as setting up the fire in a method that the five of you had never used.

Oh, how much you loathed him. You hated his innocent-looking face that spurred out words of authority and boastfulness. You couldn’t stand how he looked so obnoxious with his bright blue hair, his dark brown eyes that held an impeccable gleam. He looked so cheeky, so mean, and worst of all, he had made all of your friends convert to mini spawns of him. Even Yeonjun, the oldest member, no longer felt like the Choi Yeonjun you once knew.

If you could, you would throw him out of your hometown, except that you seemed to be the outsider here. Anyone who walked past would see five people sitting on a huge log, helping each other light marshmallows and biscuits. They would barely notice the one person hunched over on the other side, sitting on the ground, eyes dazed and uninterested.

Occasionally one of the boys would call out to you, either hand you a s’more or ask if you were alright, to which you responded, “I’m alright! Don’t worry about me, I’m having fun.”

Anyone could also see that you weren’t in the zone, but you didn’t want to ruin the moment and be a party pooper. You ended up spending most of the time scrolling on your phone, checking school emails, and such. It didn’t feel like you were back home, it felt like you were on a vacation, on your own.

The commotion had died down, for the most part. Everyone else was either discussing school gossip in hushed voices or making the most of use of their electronic device. You were tempted to join the little heated conversation that Soobin and Beomgyu were having, but you didn’t know who this ‘Chaeyeon’ girl was and either way, you wouldn’t want to voluntarily speak to Choi Soobin.

It wasn’t long before both of them went to do something else, the only sound prevalent being the wood crackling from the bonfire and the occasional chirp of evening birds.

It was a loud, sucked-in breath that drew the attention of everyone, eyes pinned onto the instigator.

Choi Soobin, once again disrupting the peace of this curated environment. He ducked his head in apology and you were about to return to your world when Kai’s curiosity got the best of him.

“Why did you just do that?” His booming voice resounded over everyone else.

You weren’t going to lie, you were curious too. It wasn’t every day you heard a gasp like that.

Soobin looked back up, eyes wide and awake. He was excited about something but seemed to be masking it for the sake of..suspense?

“Okay. You guys know Yongsam Park right?” He put his phone down and tapped his hands on his thighs in a state of urgency.

Now that statement got everyone’s attention. “It’s the flower place outside our town, everyone passes it when they enter. Of course we would know where the place is. Why are you so adamant about it?” Taehyun inquired.

“Well, have any of you gone inside the park? Or near the landmark in general?”

“No. Why would we? There’s nothing to do there than to take pictures of boring flower statues.” You stated.

“See. You guys don’t know anything about the place.” He smirked tilting his head upwards and proudly crossing his arms.

“Could you cut to the chase and tell us what it is already?” Thank Yeonjun for his smart, impatient mouth.

Soobin didn’t answer and merely flipped his phone so you could see whatever was on it. The only words you could make out were “Yongsam...missing...carnival” and something related to the park before he turned it back, away from your view.

“You can’t just say that we don’t know anything about this place then proceed to give us nothing about it.” You rolled your eyes, disinterested in the conversation once again.

“Fine. I’ll send it to you.” Soobin rolled his eyes back as four of the other boys snickered. They loved seeing the two of you bicker.

In courtesy of Beomgyu who gave Soobin your number (without your consent), you received a news article and skimmed through it with eager eyes:

[WHAT’S THE HYBE?]

YONGSAM PARK CURRENTLY UNDER INVESTIGATION, AUTHORITIES SAY 3 days ago

What’s the deal with Yongsam Park? Insiders say that, although bland and boring, Yongsam Park is currently under high-level investigation for the disappearance of a few citizens. The flower-decorated park is the perfect place to take Instagram-worthy pictures and is quite harmless in itself, so visitors were shocked to arrive at the park only to find it surrounded by heaps of yellow tape.

Yongsam Park was developed by Kim Yongsam, director of My Flowers, a multi-million florist franchise that has now spread to Japan and Taiwan. In a 2015 Interview with the millionaire, he mentioned that he had created the park in the inspiration of the rising ootd picture trend, also known as the outfit-of-the-day trend, which he had initially discovered from his teen daughter.

“I wanted to create a welcoming park for people of all ages, but I couldn’t find a suitable place to do it without the budget being drastically high. In the end, my team and I found an abandoned site and decided to build a simple structure with lower costs up there. Props to my team for the discovery of this landmark. The scenery there, especially in the evening, is stunning .” He stated in the 2015 interview with Soup Magazine.

What’s the abandoned site? With the evidence that is still standing, Yongsam Park is rumored to have previously been a carnival. Said evidence is a worn-down carousel in the back of the park, along with piles of other burnt carnival decoration and equipment. With research, Yongsam Park’s site may have once been an abandoned carnival that perished from an unknown wildfire. This may have been the primary cause of the drought that ensued in the 80s, leaving only a carousel and ashes behind. When questioned, Mr. Kim said that he had decided to leave the carousel standing behind the park due because he felt ‘drawn by its alluring glow’, as quoted.

Investigators and the local police have only enclosed the flower section of Yongsam Park because that was where the victims were spotted. They believe that disappearances took place there and are currently trying to find evidence to back up their stance. Most of this new information is not known to the public, however, Kim and his team are trying to keep it that way. The current disappearance count is seven people, the most recent case being two high-schoolers.

The carousel is still open and does not require a visitor ticket, but visitors are advised to take precautions and leave before the sun sets.

TWO MORE BOYS HAVE DISAPPEARED AT THE NOW INFAMOUS YONGSAM PARK 5 days ago

FAMILY OF TOURISTS DISAPPEAR AT YONGSAM PARK, INSIDERS SAY THIS IS THE SECOND CASE OF DISAPPEARANCE HERE 2 weeks ago

JAPANESE COUPLE DISAPPEAR AT FLOWER PARK, NETIZENS CALL THE NEWS A POLITICAL DISTRACTION 3 weeks ago

“Are you seriously...telling us...that we should visit a place where people have been kidnapped?” Yeonjun gawked. “Dude, that’s so stupid. What if we die or something?”

“Don’t say that! I was just curious if you guys wanted to go since it’s so near and since your old friend is back home.”

“It’s a dumb move. I’m not risking my life just so I can celebrate the return of my friend. Not worth it.” Beomgyu huffed.

“Hey! You’re worth it, right?” Soobin glanced at you, waiting for a response.

He was...defending you? His ulterior motives were questionable and you weren’t sure if he was protecting you because he cared about you (cue the puking) or solely because he wanted to go to Yongsam Park that bad.

You didn’t reply and chose to drown out the wailing and chaos that ensued with your friends. You clicked on a related article below, curious to learn more about this lesser-known part of the park.

[WHAT’S THE HYBE?]

TWO MORE BOYS HAVE DISAPPEARED AT THE NOW INFAMOUS YONGSAM PARK 5 days ago

Park Jongseong (20) and Nishimura Riki (15) mentioned to their friends that they would be heading to ‘a magical place’, before disappearing for around a week. They were last spotted walking through Yongsam Park, according to anonymous witnesses. This is the third case of disappearances at the park and both teens are the sixth and seventh people to go missing.

Both families reported their children missing just two days after their disappearance. With this case being the last straw, local authorities forcibly shut down Yongsam Park despite protests from staff and management.

Parents of the two minors refused to respond when called for an interview and HYBE reporters resorted to interviewing the victims’ friends instead.

“Jay’s never been a bad kid. Yeah, he might be late here and there, but he wouldn’t skip class or fly across the country for vacation during school. I just don’t understand why he’s not here with us. He wouldn’t voluntarily disappear.” Park Sunghoon (19), a friend and classmate of Jongseong (who is better known as Jay among his friends) said.

“Although I’m not close with Jay, I know Riki personally and I know for a fact that both of them wouldn’t run away like that. Why, Riki was gearing up for a dance competition that he’s been excited about all year, and now he’s just gone? Like that? Riki has always been like my little brother, and he’ll always be. I just want him back at my side.” A teary-eyed Lee Heeseung (20) says.

Netizens have been complaining about the lack of coverage on this issue.

“Maybe Mr. Kim spent all his money on covering this story up from the mainstream public. That’s why he had to build the stupid park on an abandoned sketchy site.” An anonymous netizen commented.

Regardless, we’ll be keeping our prayers for Jongseong and Riki, as well as the five other victims, to return home soon.

“...you guys are such wimps.” That was the first thing you heard Soobin say when you tuned in to the conversation again.

How dare he say that? How dare he have the courage to call you, someone who moved out on your own at 16 to live in the big, scary world, a..wimp?

“Look, Choi Soobin. I may be a lot of things, but I’m not a wimp. I didn’t say that I wasn’t interested on this trip.” You stand up and blurt out without thinking twice.

The rest of the boys are gawking at you, their mouths open wide in awe and shock. Yes, you weren’t a wimp, that was for sure, but they had known you all their life as someone who could not stand going out into the wilderness. Maybe the big city had really changed you.

“At least someone wants to go! Perfect. We can leave tomorrow at noon, bring your camping stuff!” Soobin grabbed his things and began walking away.

“Camping?” The five of you exclaimed in unison.

Taehyun, the rational member, gasped. “I, personally, wouldn’t mind going to the carousel thing..or whatever it is, but I am not staying the night. Dude, are you nuts?” The rest of you nodded your heads in agreement.

“It says in the article that we are advised to leave before the sun sets.” You point out, trying to keep your voice as steady as possible in fear of breaking this mask of false confidence, when in reality, you were terrified of this place.

Soobin turned back and eyed you down disinterestedly. “Conclusion is that we’ll bring a small backpack, or whatever you guys want to pack, and we’ll stay there until eight. Deal?”

“Seven.” Hueningkai timidly said.

“Whatever you guys want.”

You hadn’t been able to sleep last night. It wasn’t due to fear of the place you were going, rather, you weren’t too excited about having to spend half of your day around Soobin.

What were you going to say to him? You were definitely overthinking at this point.

You know, they always say that the person one hates the most is the one that they also love most. And when Soobin flipped his blue hair back or cheekily smiled, showing his endearing dimples, you couldn’t help but…

No! You loathe Choi Soobin. You couldn’t stand his smile, or his hair, or his height. That evil moonwitch.

“Hey, you ready to go?” Speak of the devil (or moonwitch), you spotted a fluff of blue hair in your peripheral vision.

You couldn’t even muster up the courage to look back at him, merely nodding your head while staring at the white wall.

“Why aren’t you looking at me? Are you...scared?” You could see him wiggle his eyebrows as he made that statement.

That was it. You turned back at him. “Yes I am. I’m absolute terrified. I can’t stand the fact that I have to forcibly spend my precious time around you. It’s like I’m about to voluntarily live a nightmare.”

Woah there, calm down. You had smoke spurting out of your ears at this point.

Soobin’s once excited face fell into one of disappointment. “Yeah, it’s a nightmare having to be around you too. Gosh, the immaturity.” He left the room in haste as your eyes shot lasers through his well-toned back.

Maybe you had gone too far with the insult. He hadn’t been mean to you at all, really.

Then again, he had been mean. He took your place when you weren’t around. Suddenly, you were determined to get it back.

“Hop on the magic school bus!”

“Shut up, Yeonjun.” You deadpanned before leaning your head on his shoulder. The two of you were finally falling back into routine and you couldn’t help but bask in this nostalgia.

You also couldn’t help but notice how Soobin kept on looking through the rearview mirror at the both of you, pupils darting away once you locked eyes with him.

Man, this was going to be a long ride.

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