#This au? Perfect. The art? Otherworldly

[helpwanted-queerversion]

Band aus have been eating my soul. But I swear this art awakened something inside me.

a pjo band au in 2025? it's more likely than you'd think

[intooned]

MY FAVORITE SHIPS!

This was a LONG time coming! And I want to thank @expensiveeggplant & @coffinbrotherr for putting up with my procrastination while boiling down the who and why of this list!

Adventure Time: Finnceline

My first real ship, the first fanfiction I ever read, and I spent hours watching Finnceline AMV's way back when YouTube didn't have commercials. Finn and Marcy's personalities and experiences play so well off of each other that I'm thoroughly convinced the writers were terrified of their potential. They would be an amazing butt-kicking couple, but that wouldn't leave Finn with as many flaws to develop as a young man coming of age. And it's such a shame because you know they'd always have each other's backs and best interests at heart. And with a fully grown adult Finn I'd bet money they'd have at least turned out as cuddle buddies... who occasionally engage in some very aggressive cuddling courtesy of my good friend Lofty! (Click at your own risk!)

Flame Princess and Huntress Wizard were great and had their cool moments with Finn, but something tells me Marceline would give up her immortal life in a heartbeat to protect Finn. Having seen each other's pasts and memories and going out of their way to help each other with deep-rooted life issues, Finnceline just has more depth to work with than the other ships.

Gravity Falls: Dipper x Pacifica x Mabel

The first episode I ever saw was the one where Pacifica and Mabel play mini-golf. I wasn't fully paying attention and assumed Dipper and Mabel were just best friends dealing with a bully. The car ride home together was cute and solidified my first ever threeway ship. THEN I found out they were siblings...

Then I found out fanfiction didn't care! In fact, here's a [link] to the BEST fanfic I've ever read for this ship, enjoy!

Star Vs. The Forces of Evil: MonStarco

The MonStar AU is where things are relatively the same except for one thing: Star is half or part monster. It makes good sense that Star, being an interdimensional magical princess from an interdimensional magical kingdom would be a little more... interdimensional. It gives some fresh blood to Starco fics, which can be a bit too vanilla most of the time, especially when you get to parts where Star's otherworldly anatomy and quirks cause all sorts of problems and shenanigans!

Sort of like her muberty phase but she's stuck looking that way, and if you remember the show said there's a chance every Mewman actually COULD end up stuck in butterfly form! Super interesting! It reminds me a lot of the episode of Teen Titans(original) where Starfire was going through alien puberty, and how fun of an episode it was to watch. The fact that there's tons of Monster Star AU and Mewberty art out there helps a ton as well!

Steven Universe: Lapiven & Stevinel

Lapiven: These two are the perfect example of "cute sunshine boy X hot goth gf". Plain and simple, Steven's optimism is exactly what Lapis needed to begin working through what happened to her. And no one appreciates a cinnamon roll the way a scarred person does. Also, tell me they don't look like a couple everytime they're onscreen together? I mean really watch them! Blushing, giggling, constant eye contact, twinkling eyes, immediately responsive to each others change in mood, plenty physical contact, elation whenever they call or visit each other.

You can call it platonic for the Shtewball, but Lapis adores Steven in every sense of the word. She warned him and negotiated his safety when she realized Homeworld would get involved. She held Jasper prisoner in her own head just to protect him. She faced her trauma and returned to confront the Diamonds, ready to put hands and feet on an enemy she knew she couldn't beat. And entirely because, to her, Steven's safety was more important than her own life. Weigh out those exact same scenarios, their exact same interactions with each other with just about any other two characters in animation and tell me it doesn't make sense? I swear most of their episodes together are just them going on dates!

Stevinel: Now this is special to me. On the opposite side of the scale Steven and Spinel share the same feelings of abandonment and inadequacy from and by Pink. Of course they aren't the only ones, but Spinel didn't raise Steven as a parent or sibling. There was no one better suited to empathize with Steven's issues, and mitigate his downward spiral into becoming a monster.

What Spinel went through in the movie is too on the nose for what Steven goes through in Future, and I'm flabbergasted that the writers chose to have her be of little to no help when Steven needed to be shown that he didn't have to hold himself together on his own.

But back on topic. The other Gems love Steven, but Spinel is wired to love him, just like Pearl, on top of whatever blooms between them naturally. So when those wires were damaged from Pink's abandonment, it's quite poetic that Steven is the one to mend them. From there It's as easy-peasy pink-heart-squeasy to assume the seeds of affection could sprout from such fertile ground. It also helps that Rebecca Sugar blatantly suggests Steven and Spinel's relationship isn't concretely platonic, at least for Spinel. Even going so far as to give us fan service!

Possibility is all that is needed for shippers and fanfictioneers to run wild with wishful thinking. I also might have a revenge boner for heartbroken characters who find happiness despite the tomfuckery done to them. "Pink abandoned me? Guess I'll be with Steven until the heat death of the universe!

RWBY: Nora's Arc

Although I may grow enamored with other RWBY ships, I always come back to this one. It's just tons of fun! Responsible & Awkward meets Extroverted Hurricane, legally banned from IHOP! Premium family man real estate meets poster girl for found family and there's no one better than Jaune-1-of-8-kids-Arc to get the job done!

I'm also of the mind that Nora's bombastic personality is meant to draw people to her, because she's absolutely terrified of being alone and left behind again. And with family gatherings at the Arc residence, isolation is all but nonexistent.

Wakfu: Yumalia

Dreams do come true! LET'S GOOO! Not much to say; they were set to be together from first sight and it was a rollercoaster from there. A lot like Aang and Katara, Yugo got his feisty princess and Amalia got her dashing hero. It's classic, it's timeless, and you love to see it done well!

The Dragon Prince: Rayllum

Disclaimer: I haven't watched the timeskip, and apparently it's kinda bad? I think I'll keep the rose-tinted glasses on thank you very much.

Obvious cuteness is obviously cute. It's nearly unheard of for the strange but exotic alien girl to be the one intrigued and smitten with the human boy. An action adventure fantasy but the non-human girl is the awkward one hiding her feelings? Sign me up! It's a breath of fresh air!

Sonic The Hedgehog: SilverWolf

The newest addition! Some fresh meat to sink my teeth into as I rekindle my love for the Sonic franchise! I haven't followed anything Sonic since the fever dream that was Sonic 06, but happened to see a few panels of Silver talking to what appeared to be a new character, Whisper the Wolf! Shy, soft spoken, but not from timidity, rather a desire to not scare others away because of her frightening eyes.

Pairing her with the very approachable and reassuring Silver makes for good chemistry in my opinion. I also adore Whisper's color scheme and the combination of silver, gold, and neon lights they have in a lot of comic panels together. They'd make a cute pair that's easy to reduce to a blushing mess with any little bit of teasing, and I'm here for it!

AND THERE YOU HAVE IT!

I have loads more ships but these are the ones that I felt were most worth sharing.

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

Playing for Keeps | Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Chapter 2

 ← Previous Chapter Next Chapter →

Words: ~5,300

Tags: Modern AU, Reader Insert, Seventh Year, Female MC, No Y/N, Slytherin MC, Enemies to Lovers, Trope-y, Slow Burn, Humor, Coming of Age, High School Drama

The faint light of dawn filtered through the emerald curtains of your bed in the Slytherin dormitory, casting muted shadows across the stone walls. You blinked, disoriented for a moment before remembering: Hogwarts. Your first night in Slytherin had been fine—overwhelming, but manageable.

The dormitory was more extravagant than expected, its arched ceilings and serpentine décor exuding an eerie elegance. The soft green glow from the enchanted windows overlooking the Black Lake gave the room an otherworldly atmosphere you were still adjusting to. Thankfully, you already had Imelda, whose blunt humor and confidence were comforting, as well as Grace and Nerida, who’d stood by you earlier when Sebastian had been insufferable.

Of course, there were others.

Violet McDowell introduced herself first, her polished demeanor and neatly tied hair making it clear she came from an old wizarding family. “So, what’s Beauxbatons really like? Is it as uptight as everyone says?” she asked, her tone almost challenging.

Before you could respond, a petite girl with chin-length curls and bright eyes chimed in. “I’ve heard their students dance everywhere instead of walking. Is that true?” Clara Vane, bubbly and chatty, seemed more interested in myths about Beauxbatons than the actual answer.

Ethel Prescott, quieter but no less curious, had glanced up from her spellbook just long enough to add, “Do they really care that much about posture, or is that just Witch Weekly nonsense?”

The questions came in waves: Was perfect penmanship enforced? Could you actually speak French? Croissants or pumpkin pasties?

Later, the common room was no less daunting. More Slytherins introduced themselves, their names and faces blending together in a blur: Marcus Flint, Ava Vaisey, Natalia Gardner, Quincy Lloyd. Each seemed more self-assured than the last.

Still, you were grateful for Imelda and Ominis. Imelda’s sharp wit and unapologetic presence acted as a shield, while Ominis’s smooth interjections subtly steered conversations away from anything too intrusive. Between them, the chaos of your first night felt just a little less overwhelming.

You were thankful they were both already at the table when you entered The Great Hall for breakfast, the hum of conversation mingling with the clatter of silverware. You slid into the seat beside Imelda, who was already halfway through a plate of toast and bacon.

“You look like you didn’t sleep,” she observed, not bothering to pause mid-bite.

“Thanks for the reassurance,” you said dryly, pouring yourself a cup of tea. “I’m fine. Just adjusting.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it,” Imelda said with a shrug. “Or you won’t, and you’ll spend the whole year complaining. Either way, you’ll survive.”

Your lips twitched in reluctant amusement.

Across the table, Ominis glanced up from his copy of The Daily Prophet. “First class is Defense Against the Dark Arts,” he said, his tone polite but matter-of-fact. “It’s with Professor Hecat. She can be... something.”

“Something?” you asked, curious.

“You’ll see,” Ominis replied cryptically before turning back to his paper.

Imelda grinned, clearly enjoying your curiosity. “Hecat’s a hardass,” she said. “But if you’re good, she’ll respect you. If you’re bad, well…” She trailed off with a wicked smirk.

“Sounds promising,” you muttered, taking a sip of tea.

Imelda shrugged, popping a piece of bacon into her mouth. “Hecat doesn’t coddle, that’s for sure. You’ll either love her or hate her by the end of the week. No in-between.”

Ominis lowered his paper slightly, his pale eyes flicking toward you. “She values precision and discipline. If you’ve got those, you’ll manage.”

“Good to know,” you said, feeling a small flicker of relief. If there was one thing Beauxbatons had drilled into its students, it was discipline. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Imelda tilted her head, studying you as if trying to gauge your confidence. “You’ll be fine,” she said finally, nudging your arm. “Just don’t let her catch you daydreaming or slacking off. She’s got eyes like a hawk.”

“Duly noted,” you replied, though your thoughts were already wandering as your gaze drifted across the Great Hall.

The morning sunlight streamed through the enchanted ceiling, casting warm golden hues over the long tables and filling the room with an energy that felt almost tangible. Conversations ebbed and flowed, bursts of laughter punctuating the steady hum of activity. You spotted a few familiar faces at the Slytherin table, but there were dozens more you didn’t recognize, their faces blurring together in a sea of green and silver robes.

Your eyes swept across the other tables, where students from Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff mingled in their own lively clusters. The sheer number of them was overwhelming. After six years at Beauxbatons, where you’d known nearly everyone by name, Hogwarts felt like an endless sea of unfamiliar faces, each with their own stories and alliances. It left you feeling adrift, like a visitor who hadn’t quite found her footing.

And then, across the room, your gaze caught on a familiar shock of red hair.

Garreth Weasley sat at the Gryffindor table, his easy grin lighting up his freckled face as he animatedly recounted a story. The girls beside him—Cressida among them—listened with rapt attention, laughing at his punchlines. He leaned in closer, hands gesturing broadly, clearly basking in the attention.

To his left, Leander Prewett lounged in stark contrast, his chair tipped back at a perfect angle that somehow didn’t upset the impeccable press of his robes. Not a crease marred the fabric, and his hair, combed with meticulous precision, caught the light as if it had been styled moments ago. He sipped casually from his goblet, his gaze flicking toward Garreth now and then, a smirk playing at his lips like he was waiting for just the right moment to interrupt—or outshine—the scene.

When Leander’s eyes landed on you, the smirk shifted, softening into something warmer, more playful. He tilted his goblet in your direction—a subtle gesture of acknowledgment—before turning back to Garreth, leaning closer like the two were conspiring about something.

Imelda, ever observant, caught the exchange and smirked. “Looks like Prewett’s already taken a shine to you.”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks and quickly looked down at your tea. “I doubt it,” you said, trying to sound dismissive. “Bu um… Am I allowed to go over there, or... is there some kind of unwritten rule about Slytherins and Gryffindors fraternizing?”

Imelda chuckled, leaning back in her seat with an air of amusement. “Allowed? It’s not like you’re sneaking into their common room. Unless it’s a formal meal, you can sit wherever you want, Chouette.”

Ominis lowered his paper slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching with a faint smile. “The rivalry is overstated,” he said smoothly. “Mostly about Quidditch and family legacies. It’s not as though there’s a ban friendship and conversation between houses.”

“Conversation, no,” Imelda added with a smirk. “But someone might throw a roll at you if you bring up Quidditch stats. Just don’t start a fight over breakfast.”

“So… you wouldn’t mind if I went to say hi?” you asked cautiously, your fingers fidgeting with the handle of your teacup.

Imelda waved a hand lazily. “Why would we care? Go on. Socialize.”

Ominis tilted his head, the faintest flicker of a smirk tugging at his lips. “But do be careful. If Garreth ropes you into one of his brilliant ideas, you’ll end up spending your first class in the hospital wing.”

Imelda snickered at that, but you ignored her, carefully picking up your tea and rising from your seat. With a small nod of acknowledgment to the pair, you turned toward the Gryffindor table, your heart beating a little faster as you crossed the room.

“Hi,” you said, your voice slightly breathless as you stopped near the edge of the Gryffindor group.

Garreth’s head shot up, his freckled face breaking into an immediate grin. “Chouette! Fancy seeing you over here.”

The girls beside him looked up as well. Cressida smiled warmly, scooting over to make room. “Garreth mentioned you,” she said kindly. “Join us!"

“I’m Natty,” The other girl added, her lilting accent kind. “It’s lovely to meet you. Sit down!”

You hesitated, glancing briefly at Leander sitting across from them. He offered you a polite, easy smile.

“I’m Leander Prewett,” he said, his voice smooth as he extended a hand. “You must be the famous Chouette.”

The nickname coming from a stranger made you falter for a moment, but his expression was open and friendly. You shook his hand briefly. “That’s me,” you said, sliding onto the bench next to Cressida. “Nice to meet you, Leander.”

“Likewise,” he said, leaning back slightly. “Weasley’s been talking about you nonstop since last night.”

“Really?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you turned to Garreth.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Garreth said with a laugh, spreading his hands in mock defense. “After Natty, you're the only other new student we've ever had in our year.”

“It’s true,” Leander chimed in, leaning back slightly with an easy grin. “You’re something of a novelty, Chouette. Fresh blood in a group that’s been together since we were eleven? Naturally, everyone’s curious.”

“Curious, sure,” Natty said with a smirk, her tone teasing as she glanced at Leander. “Some more than others.”

Leander shot her a playful glare, his grin unwavering. “I’m just being friendly.”

“Right,” Cressida said, dragging the word out as she exchanged a knowing look with Natty. “Friendly.”

You felt your cheeks warm as the group’s attention lingered on you, and you quickly looked down at your teacup. “I didn’t realize I was such a big deal.”

“Modest, too,” Garreth said, grinning. “Anyway, don’t worry. Hogwarts has a way of making people feel right at home—sometimes a little too much.”

Cressida nodded, her expression softening. “Give it a few weeks, and it’ll be like you’ve always been here.”

“Hopefully,” you said, smiling faintly. The warmth in their words eased some of the tension in your chest, though the weight of being the new face in a tightly knit group still lingered at the edges of your mind.

“Chouette is such an interesting nickname," Natty said, turning to you with a curious expression. "Where does it come from?”

“Oh,” you you laughed awkwardly. “It’s something Imelda started calling me when we were kids. I wrote an essay about owls when I was in a Muggle primary school because I was fascinated by wizard post... she thought it was hilarious, so the name stuck.”

“That’s adorable,” Cressida said with a laugh. “Better than some of the nicknames people come up with around here.”

“Agreed,” Leander said, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he grinned. “It suits you.”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks again, and you quickly turned to Natty. “Are you all taking Defense Against the Dark Arts this morning?”

Natty nodded. “We are. First period.”

Relief flooded you at the idea of not having to navigate the castle alone. “That’s good to hear.”

“Stick with us,” Leander said, his smile easy. “We’ll make sure you don’t get lost—or end up in detention.”

As you sipped the last of your tea, your thoughts began to wander toward Defense Against the Dark Arts. You, of course, had six years of class under your belt from Beauxbatons, but it had always been carefully structured and precise, with students practicing spells on enchanted dummies or theoretical exercises. Actual dueling had been rare, restricted to the secret dueling association you’d been fortunate enough to join during your later years.

Would Hogwarts’ approach be different? You hoped so. Everything about this place felt rawer, less polished than Beauxbatons, and you hoped that extended to its curriculum.

The trek to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom was brisk, the corridors of Hogwarts teeming with students. You kept close to Garreth, Natty, and Cressida, your eyes darting around as you tried to memorize the layout. The castle was as sprawling and maze-like as you’d expected, every turn revealing another staircase, corridor, or portrait that moved just enough to throw off your sense of direction.

“It’s like a labyrinth,” you muttered under your breath, glancing up at a painting of a knight who waved enthusiastically as you passed. “How does anyone find their way around here?”

“You don’t,” Garreth said with a grin, leading the group confidently down a corridor. “Not at first, anyway. You’ll get lost a few times, end up in a secret passage or two, maybe even a broom cupboard...”

“Reassuring,” you said dryly, though his cheerfulness was infectious.

Natty smiled, walking alongside you. “The trick is to remember key landmarks,” she offered helpfully.

Cressida chimed in, “And never trust Peeves to give you directions.”

You nodded, trying to take mental notes, but the sheer size of the castle was overwhelming. You were grateful to have them guiding you, especially as you climbed a narrow spiral staircase that seemed to stretch endlessly upward. By the time you reached the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, your legs were burning, and you made a mental note to pace yourself better in the future.

The classroom itself was impressive. Rows of desks were arranged in neat lines, and tall windows let in streams of golden light, illuminating shelves filled with spellbooks, artifacts, and jars of peculiar ingredients and specimens. A faint hum of magic seemed to linger in the air, subtle but unmistakable.

Professor Hecat was already at the front of the room, her presence commanding as she surveyed the students with sharp, hawkish eyes. There was an air of expectation about her, the kind that made you straighten in your seat without thinking.

Garreth nudged you lightly as you slid into a spot near the middle of the room. “This is going to be fun,” he whispered, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips.

You raised an eyebrow. “Fun?”

“Trust me,” he said, leaning back in his chair, his voice conspiratorial. “First class with Hecat is always good. You’ll see.”

Natty and Cressida sat nearby, offering encouraging smiles as the last of the students filed in. Before you could settle completely, your gaze was drawn to the back of the room where Sebastian sauntered in just before the door swung shut. His tie hung loose around his neck, and his posture was as relaxed as ever, though his sharp brown eyes flicked across the room like he was sizing everyone up. He slid into a seat near the back with the other Slytherins—Ominis and Imelda among them—and leaned back in his chair as though the classroom belonged to him.

You couldn’t help but notice the brief look exchanged between Sebastian and Leander as the latter slid into the seat behind you. It was subtle but unmistakable—the narrowing of Sebastian’s eyes and the sharp tilt of Leander’s head, his easy grin firmly in place but carrying a faint edge, almost like a challenge. The tension between them hung in the air, unspoken but palpable.

Your thoughts drifted to the carriage ride with Imelda the day before. Sebastian Sallow—Hogwarts’ most persistent heartbreak. Next to Leander Prewett, of course.

The faint smile that tugged at your lips was involuntary. Beauxbatons had its own version of this rivalry—Étienne, the effortlessly charming Quidditch captain, and Hugo, the razor-sharp dueling star. The two had been locked in a constant battle, always trying to outshine one another in accolades and romantic flings. It had been amusing to watch from the sidelines, though exhausting to imagine being caught in the crossfire.

Now, watching Leander and Sebastian, the similarities were uncanny.

Professor Hecat stepped forward, her voice cutting through the room like a whip and breaking you out of your thoughts. “Welcome to Defense Against the Dark Arts,” she said, her tone clipped and no-nonsense. “If you’re expecting an easy year, I suggest you rethink your priorities. This class is not for the faint of heart or the lazy. You will be tested, challenged, and—if you work hard—rewarded.”

The room was silent, every student sitting up a little straighter under her piercing gaze.

“Today,” she continued, pacing slowly, “we will begin with a practical demonstration. Theory has its place, but to kick off the semester, you will learn by doing. Wands out.”

There was a collective rustling as everyone reached for their wands. Your pulse quickened as you gripped yours tightly, the weight familiar and reassuring in your hand. Garreth was right. This would be good; it was the moment you’d been hoping for. Real practice, real dueling, not just theory or practice dummies.

Professor Hecat’s sharp eyes swept the room, her gaze lingering on each student as if she could see straight into their thoughts. When her eyes landed on you, they narrowed slightly, a spark of curiosity flickering in their depths.

“You,” she said sharply, pointing her wand in your direction. “Miss Beauxbatons.”

You blinked, startled at being addressed so directly. “Yes, Professor?”

“I’d like to see what you can do,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Let’s get a sense of where you stand in comparison to the rest of the class.”

The room murmured softly, a ripple of interest running through the students. Garreth shot you an encouraging grin, but you could feel the weight of every eye on you as you stood.

Professor Hecat flicked her wand, and the room transformed in an instant. Desks slid to the edges of the room, creating an open space in the center. The floor shimmered briefly before solidifying into a raised dueling platform.

You climbed onto it, your wand feeling heavier than usual in your hand. The hum of magic in the room seemed louder now, or maybe it was just the pounding of your heart.

“Now,” Hecat said, turning to the back of the room, “we’ll need someone to test her mettle.”

You had a sinking feeling you knew exactly who she was going to call on. Mister Duelling Prodigy himself.

“Mr. Sallow?"

Sebastian, who had been lounging in his chair with all the grace of a cat stretched in the sun, straightened slightly. His expression shifted from mild boredom to faint interest as he stood and strolled toward the platform with a slow, deliberate gait.

The room erupted into whispers, a mix of excitement and curiosity rippling through the class. It was clear this wasn’t the first time Sebastian had been called upon for a demonstration, and judging by the looks on his classmates’ faces, he had a reputation to back up his arrogance.

You shifted slightly, your grip tightening on your wand. The platform suddenly felt much smaller as Sebastian turned his attention to you, his brown eyes sharp and assessing. His smirk widened just enough to set your teeth on edge.

“Try to keep up," he said lightly, his tone almost teasing.

You could feel the weight of the class’s collective attention pressing down on you, their excitement palpable. He was clearly used to this—being the center of attention, being the best.

But you had something to prove.

Professor Hecat stepped between you, her voice cutting through the whispers like a blade. “The goal is to disarm your opponent. No spells beyond fifth-year curriculum, no excessive force. Do I make myself clear?”

“Bien sûr,” you said firmly, your heart pounding with a mix of nerves and determination.

Sebastian gave a lazy nod, his smirk never faltering. “Crystal.”

Hecat stepped back, raising her wand. “Bow.”

You both dipped into formal bows, though Sebastian’s was laced with a mocking flourish that made your jaw tighten. As you straightened, his wand was already at the ready.

“Begin!” Hecat commanded, and the duel was on.

Sebastian struck first, quick and confident, his Expelliarmus streaking toward you like a red arrow. You twisted your wrist, deflecting it with a sharp Protego, the spell rebounding harmlessly into the air.

“Not bad,” he said, moving fluidly into a Flipendo, the knockback jinx aimed squarely at your chest. You sidestepped, countering with a precise Stupefy that forced him to block with his own Protego.

The spells came fast and relentless, the platform crackling with magic as the duel intensified. Sebastian was good—no, he was excellent. His movements were smooth and calculated, each spell flowing seamlessly into the next. He pressed the offensive, forcing you to rely on quick reflexes and defensive spells to hold your ground.

But he wasn’t the only one who’d mastered his spellwork.

You quickly found your rhythm, slipping into the familiar flow of a duel. At Beauxbatons, the secret dueling association had taught you to think two steps ahead, to anticipate your opponent’s moves and exploit their weaknesses. And Sebastian, for all his skill, had one glaring flaw—his arrogance.

He expected you to falter, to stay on the defensive. So you didn’t.

A well-timed Depulso sent him skidding back, his balance momentarily compromised. Seizing the opening, you cast Arresto Momentum, slowing him just enough to fire off a rapid Stupefy. He blocked it with a grunt, his smirk slipping as he realized you weren’t just keeping up—you were pushing him.

The class murmured in astonishment as the duel raged on. You could feel their energy feeding into yours, the thrill of the challenge sharpening your focus. Sebastian’s smirk was gone now, replaced by a look of concentration, his brown eyes narrowing as he adjusted his strategy.

“You’re full of surprises, Chouette” he said, his voice slightly breathless as he dodged a Rictusempra.

“And you’re full of yourself,” you shot back, firing a precise hex that grazed his shoulder.

He retaliated with a powerful Incendio, the flames licking dangerously close, but you countered with a quick Aguamenti, extinguishing them mid-air. The crowd erupted into cheers at the display, their excitement fueling the competitive fire burning in your chest.

Sebastian lunged forward, attempting another Flipendo, but you deflected it, your wand moving like an extension of your arm. With a sharp flick, you cast Expelliarmus again, putting every ounce of precision into the spell.

This time, it hit its mark.

Sebastian’s wand flew from his hand, spiraling through the air with a sharp twirl. Without thinking, you reached out and caught it mid-flight. The room erupted into cheers and gasps, the sound crashing over you like a wave as you stood there, both wands in hand.

Sebastian froze, his expression flickering between disbelief and something far more reluctant. His chest rose and fell with deep breaths, his sharp brown eyes locked onto you. The smirk he so often wore was nowhere to be seen.

For a moment, you simply stared at each other, the hum of victory vibrating in your veins.

"Holy shit," Imelda’s voice cut through the cheers and murmurs, loud enough to carry across the room. “Sebastian just lost a duel.”

The words seemed to ripple through the crowd, and the excited murmuring grew louder. Students leaned toward each other, exchanging wide-eyed whispers, their gazes darting between you and Sebastian.

“Has that ever happened?” someone asked.

“No way,” another voice replied. “Sallow’s supposed to be the best in our year.”

“Well, not anymore,” a Hufflepuff piped up, her tone equal parts amused and impressed.

Sebastian didn’t move for a long moment, his gaze fixed on you as though trying to reconcile what had just happened. Slowly, he extended his hand, his expression shifting to something you couldn’t quite place.

You stepped forward and handed Sebastian his wand, your fingers brushing briefly against his as you leaned in, your voice low but clear. “Try and keep up next time.”

The words hung in the air and Sebastian’s frown deepened. For a moment, you thought he might fire back a retort, but instead, he closed his fingers around his wand, his jaw tight as he stepped off the platform, his shoulders stiff.

The room was still buzzing with chatter as Professor Hecat raised her voice, attempting to restore order. “Enough,” she barked, her sharp tone cutting through the noise. “This is a classroom, not the Quidditch pitch. Pair up and prepare to spar. I expect focus, not theatrics. Otherwise, I'll have to read for the rest of class."

The class scrambled to comply, but the energy in the room was electric, the whispers continuing in hushed tones. You stepped off the platform, the adrenaline still thrumming through your veins, and made your way toward Imelda and Ominis.

Imelda was grinning from ear to ear, her expression equal parts amused and impressed. “Well, look at you,” she said, nudging your arm. “First day, and you’ve already knocked Sallow down a peg. That’s one for the history books.”

Ominis, standing beside her, tilted his head in your direction. “I’ve never seen another student best him in a duel,” he said evenly, though there was a note of disbelief in his tone. “Not once.”

You shrugged, trying to play it off as casually as possible, though your cheeks were still warm from the attention. “He’s good,” you admitted. “Really good. But not good enough.”

Imelda laughed. “Oh, he’s never going to live this down. You’ve officially unseated the king of dueling.”

Before you could respond, several students began approaching, their eagerness evident as they jostled to catch your attention.

“That was incredible,” one Ravenclaw boy said, his blue robes swishing as he stepped forward. “Would you mind partnering with me for practice?”

“Partner with me!” another Hufflepuff chimed in, her cheeks flushed with excitement. “I want to learn how you pulled off that Arresto Momentum combo.”

“I called dibs first,” a Gryffindor interjected, earning a glare from the others.

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden influx of attention as Imelda smirked, crossing her arms. “Looks like you’re in demand, Chouette.”

Ominis inclined his head, his tone dry. “If I were you, I’d choose carefully. Some of these students are less… coordinated than others.”

Professor Hecat clapped her hands again, her gaze sweeping over the crowd. “If you’ve found a partner, take your positions. If not, you’ll be paired randomly.”

You glanced around at the eager faces vying for your attention, but your gaze ultimately landed on Ominis. “Would you like to pair up?” you asked, keeping your tone casual but hopeful.

Imelda let out an exaggerated gasp, her hand flying to her chest in mock offense. “What’s this? You’re skipping over your oldest friend?”

You shot her an amused look. “No offense, Imelda, but you’ve always been better on a broom than in a duel.”

Imelda laughed, clearly not taking it personally. “Fair point,” she said with a grin. “I guess I’ll go find someone who can appreciate my ‘less polished’ technique.”

Ominis quirked an eyebrow in your direction, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Are you sure? I’m certainly not as talented as you and... I'm not exactly flashy.”

“That’s perfect,” you replied, your voice low enough for only him to hear. “I’ve had enough theatrics for one day. Besides, I get the feeling you’re more talented than you let on.”

His smirk widened slightly as he inclined his head. “Well then, I'd be happy to partner up.”

Together, you stepped into the center of the room, finding a spot to practice. Unlike the duel with Sebastian, there was no buzzing anticipation from the class or weighty pressure hanging in the air. This was practice—a chance to focus, to refine.

As you anticipated, Ominis moved with deliberate precision, each spell measured and exact. You quickly fell into a steady rhythm with him, the exchange of spells flowing smoothly. There was no animosity, no urge to win—just the shared goal of improvement, and it was almost relaxing, except for the occasional awareness of being watched.

You could feel Sebastian’s eyes on you.

Though you didn’t look in his direction, the weight of his gaze was impossible to ignore, like a smoldering ember pressing against your back.

You hardly noticed how much time had passed until Professor Hecat called out, her voice sharp and commanding, “That’s enough for today. Well done, everyone. You’re dismissed.”

The room filled with the clatter of students packing their bags and murmuring amongst themselves, the electric energy of the earlier duel still lingering. You lowered your wand, offering Ominis a small smile. “Thanks for pairing up with me,” you said, genuinely appreciative.

“You’re welcome,” he replied, his tone warm but composed. "Perhaps we can do it again next time we have duelling practice."

Imelda sauntered over, slinging her bag over one shoulder. “So, Chouette, are you planning to take over the whole school, or just Defense Against the Dark Arts? Because at this rate, you’re going to have everyone eating out of your hand.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “I’m just trying to survive my first week, Mel.”

The two of you began making your way toward the door, the noise of the dispersing class surrounding you. You were almost at the exit when a voice cut through the chatter.

“Wait.”

You turned to see Sebastian standing a few steps behind you, his hands shoved into his robe pockets, his expression carefully neutral.

Imelda raised an eyebrow, glancing between the two of you. “This should be good,” she muttered under her breath, crossing her arms as she leaned casually against the doorframe.

He ignored her, keeping his attention fixed on you. "Has anyone told you about Crossed Wands yet?”

Your eyebrows lifted slightly. “No.”

“It’s a dueling club,” he said, his smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth just enough to feel like a challenge. “Unofficial, but it’s where the best duelists go to push themselves. If you’re looking for more of what you got today, it’s the place to be.”

You hummed noncommittally, tilting your head as if weighing his words. “And I suppose you’re the reigning champion?”

His smirk deepened, leaning fully into his usual arrogance. “Naturally.”

Imelda scoffed from where she stood beside you, arms crossed. “And yet, someone just knocked you off your throne.”

Sebastian shot her a look, but it lacked his usual bite, as though he couldn’t be bothered to engage. His gaze returned to you, a flicker of challenge in his eyes. “Well, not officially,” he said, his smirk tugging wider. “But I’m always looking for a good challenge. If you’re interested, introduce yourself to Lucan Brattleby in Gryffindor. He runs the club. Just tell him I sent you.”

You raised an eyebrow, studying him carefully. “I’ll think about it."

Sebastian nodded once before turning back toward the remaining students, his usual self-assured air firmly in place. Imelda wasted no time tugging on your arm, leading you out the door with a grin tugging at her lips.

As soon as you were out in the corridor, she let out a low chuckle. “Well, well. It seems Sallow likes you, after all. You've been here a day and the school's most coveted guys are all over you.”

You scoffed, glancing at her like she’d grown a second head. “Come on, Mel. Get real.”

“I'm serious,” she said, her grin widening. "Seb’s definitely interested. Did you see the way he kept looking at you?”

“I don’t care how he was looking at me,” you shot back, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. “Within five minutes of meeting him, he insulted me. I’m not holding my breath for some big redemption arc.”

Imelda raised her hands in mock surrender, though the mischievous glint in her eyes made it clear she wasn’t dropping the topic anytime soon. She opened her mouth to retort, but you cut her off with a shake of your head, your tone firm and exasperated.

“Believe whatever you want,” you said, “but I have zero interest in trying to figure out what’s going on in his head. I’m here to focus on school, not Sebastian Sallow.”

“Alright, whatever you say,” Imelda replied, her grin still firmly in place. “But don’t come crying to me when he’s suddenly dueling other guys for your honor.”

“That’s not happening,” you said flatly, quickening your pace to move ahead of her. “End of story.”

Imelda trailed after you, her smirk firmly in place but, for once, choosing to keep her thoughts to herself. For now. Instead, she focused on guiding you through Hogwarts’ maze-like corridor.

Sebastian Sallow might have everyone else’s attention, but as far as you were concerned, he could keep it. You had far more pressing matters to focus on—like making it through your first day unscathed.

 ← Previous Chapter Next Chapter →

[baiyubai]

weilan university students!au anyone? I almost dumped this on the WIP stage but then @the-marron bribed me into finishing

the bribe is under the cut

Zhao Yunlan is barely awake this morning, which means that his awareness of anything leaves a lot to be desired. The fact that he managed to stumble into the right train with only minimal amounts of bumping into people is already far above Zhao Yunlan’s own expectations for today, so he feels excused that it took him an embarrassingly long while to notice he is being watched.

It's not exactly a new feeling, truth be told - Zhao Yunlan does attract attention, absolutely willingly and with intent, but he is fairly sure that his awake self is much more interesting than the zombie chewing on the lollipop in his mouth that he sees instead of his own reflection in the train’s window.

And yet. Someone is looking.

Subtlety is an art available only after noon in his experience, and so Zhao Yunlan looks around in a way that is as covert as he can make it - with dead stare and absolute lack of any finer thought marring his forehead, when he sees him - the Pretty One.

Zhao Yunlan has been aware of the Pretty One for a while now. He’s noticed him a few weeks ago when he was getting on the train with his eyes glued to a book in his hand. Zhao Yunlan's first thought was ‘oh, a nerd’. The second one was just ‘oh’, because the man raised his eyes to search for some space where he and his book would not be a bother, letting Zhao Yunlan see his face clearly.

And what a face it was.

Classic poets didn't know shit when they described otherworldly beauties because this guy is just perfect.

And now he is staring at Zhao Yunlan.

He is seated a bit away, by the window, staring at Yunlan rather unashamedly. Maybe he truly believes in the zombie impression and doesn't think he’s been noticed.

Maybe he is simply judging Zhao Yunlan's clothes - he is pretty sure he wore the same hoodie yesterday, and since apparently he and the Pretty One share their everyday commute to the university, he had to notice.

Well, it is the only one not stained with coffee, so the Pretty One would have to deal.

Trying to make this a bit less awkward, Zhao Yunlan looks down at the book in the guy's hand and almost jolts. Biology?

Shit. This one is smart.

Pretty, but out of Yunlan's league and most probably an asshole - all the sciency types were either assholes, or insane or both.

Well, better to check than regret, Zhao Yunlan thinks.

Even if he decides that Zhao Yunlan looks like an idiot. 

***

Zhao Yunlan looks as great as usual, Shen Wei decides, feeling heat in his cheeks and his neck.

Of course, he looks his best when he is animated and talking to his friends, surrounded by people who adore him, smiling and sharing his knowledge with a smile and a joke - Shen Wei sees him often on his way back from the tutoring sessions, after Zhao Yunlan leaves his own club. He’s never managed to come closer, intimidated by Zhao Yunlan's usual circle, and besides, in the evenings Shen Wei only shares a two stations-long ride with Zhao Yunlan, because of his job.

That's why Shen Wei prefers the mornings.

The mornings are just for them - they get on the same station and leave at the one closest to the university, parting ways when the crowd of other students swallows them and carries them towards the gates.

But before that, Zhao Yunlan is more often than not just within the reach. Today, he looks tired - there are shadows underneath his eyes and his gaze seems a bit unseeing: it’s stopped on Shen Wei, but there is no light of recognition, no surprise at some random guy watching him like he is the best part of his day, and so Shen Wei allows himself to look some more.

He cannot help but feel a bit worried - is it lack of sleep? Illness? He doesn't know.

He doesn't even know what Zhao Yunlan studies really, he didn't catch that when listening to the conversations for such a short time. All he knows is the other man’s name, his route, and the fact that the mere sight of him makes Shen Wei’s heart do stupid things.

It's plenty enough.

Shen Wei should look back to his book - the discussion will most likely rest on his shoulders again and he should be better prepared for Professor Ouyang’s questions, but his eyes refuse to move.

There is something thrilling in having Zhao Yunlan's attention, as illusory as it is. Shen Wei is not fooling himself here, he knows that Yunlan is looking past him, just letting his unfocused gaze rest on something, but even so, Shen Wei is glad to have this semblance of a contact.

With his coursework loaded as it is, with the tutoring sessions and the part-time job at the museum, Shen Wei doesn't have time to make friends.

All he has is this train ride and Zhao Yunlan's handsome profile.

He wonders what would happen if they talked. He probably wouldn't like Shen Wei much, losing interest after a few sentences, realising that Shen Wei is just as boring as he looks, but maybe he would smile before that? He would offer his name, a handshake maybe?

Something changes in Zhao Yunlan's eyes suddenly, and Shen Wei looks down onto his book immediately, feeling caught.

He feels Zhao Yunlan's gaze on himself for a long time, staring at the words without comprehension, but it's better than seeing accusation or disgust in Zhao Yunlan's eyes.

For the first time in forever, Shen Wei is glad that the train reaches the destination. He packs his book and adjusts his glasses, heading straight towards the door. He will not check if Zhao Yunlan is here.

Once outside, Shen Wei breathes a sigh of relief. He doesn't know where Zhao Yunlan is, but it's fine. He can observe him again in the evening after all, even if for a short while.

“Hello there,” someone behind his back says, making Shen Wei’s heart leap like a rabbit. He knows that voice. “Want to go together?”

When Shen Wei turns, he is faced with Zhao Yunlan's bright, friendly smile, the lollipop stick still in his mouth.

“Go?” He repeats dumbly.

The answer makes Zhao Yunlan chuckle.

“To the uni. I am conducting an experiment!”

Shen Wei blinks. People are milling around them in haste and some small part of his brain insists that they should move too, or they would be late, but that part seems not to be aware that Zhao Yunlan. Is. Talking. To Shen Wei.

“Ah. What is it?” He manages heroically, not stumbling on his words even once.

Zhao Yunlan grins.

“The ‘how many eye contact until date’ experiment.”

Shen Wei’s mind comes to a very violent halt.

[lanternlightss]

OH MY GOODNESS. OH MY GOSH ?????!!??

IM LOVE THIS SO MUCH !!!!???!!!?;!;!3)

What lies in front of him is a myth, a terrific rumor said behind turned backs. What lies in front of him is something that, by all means, by the King’s own unspoken implications, by sailors who share ocean secrets in quiet words, should not exist.

go read the boy and the whirlpool by @lanternlightss <3 I'm normal about it :)

[emistations]

Hi, it's me agian. Saw the Amy Prime art you made and I thank you for making that, I love it. I had another idea in my head that forced me write this to you. It's a Sonic and the black Knight art idea about Amy being brought to Camelot (I think that's what it's called) instead of Sonic completely by accident.

I made this concept before hand and decided to revamp it!

So the gist of this what if:

Merlina, in a moment of deep grief over the loss of her grandfather, cast a spell to bring him back. The spell backfires since you're not supposed to bring back the dead, and it corrupts the sacred swords (minus Caliburn*).

It ends up corrupting their respective knights (Lancelot, Percival and Gawain), as well as King Arthur (who's Sonic in this case). They all chase down Merlina & Caliburn with a killing intent, but they escape. Cornered and in a moment of desperation, Merlina casts a summoning spell. She hopes for an otherworldly hero...

Who happens to be Amy! The poor girl who was waiting for her date to arrive! And so, she's pulled into Camelot to help Merlina & Caliburn purify the kingdom, using the magical "Armlets of the Lake", said to grant control over the Misty Lakes and their magic. If perfected, their wielder is to be referred to as the Lady of the Lake. And so, Merlina takes it upon her to help teach Amy how to use that magic, while Caliburn watches from shadows so that they would not be discovered.

Each Knight Amy purifies is a trial to test her control over the magic of the lake.

Note: * It turns out Caliburn was corrupted the entire time! He waited until Arthur was purified for him to unite with the scabbard, thus becoming a corrupted version of Excalibur. In his mind, Merlina is imperfect because of her mistake. Anyone who makes a mistake is imperfect and a threat to a perfect kingdom. He seeks to wipe out Camelot and rebuild it from scratch, eradicating any imperfections. He & Merlina swap roles in this AU, so he's the main villain. And is eventually taught that everyone is flawed, and that imperfection is a part of life.

[riewritten]

what do you think Erwin considers himself that he sucks at but at the same time he enjoys doing it? suddenly i thought of tiktoks that are like "having a hobby you're bad at is okay". do you have any hobbies you consider yourself not good at too?

tbh i think the "bad" and "good" stuffs are all social constructs, but i'm still struggling with crocheting just bc i think i suck but at the same time i know that's something i do for relax. still sometimes i can't afford to think that way??? do you have the same problem and have you overcome it? i have no idea if this is a prompt or just me asking you stuffs.

do you often project what you're thinking into your writing and visual arts and any other form of art?

oh my god this is getting nowhere 🥲🥲 thank you for reading Rie. have a good day!!!

THE BEST BIRTHDAY

ERWIN SMITH X GEN NEUTRAL!READER

TAGS: fluff, slice of life, kissing, comfort, office romance AU, idiots in love, insecurities, and AAAA HAPPEE BIRTHDAY ERWIN (this also goes with my most recent ask)

WORDS: 2.9k

hi @frenchdyer ❤ i know i took this long bc i've been thinking about this. like the otherworldly self-reflectio i only tend to have once in a year or whenever i'm PMS-ing lol. how's your crocheting? were you able to improve somehow months after you had sent me this msg? my sister gifted me a crochet kit, so i've been planning to learn, too!

on a personal note, the hobby i suck at but enjoy doing nonetheless is drawing! perhaps it's a self-esteem issue, but i've been drawing since i was 5. the passion came to me even before i learned how to write! due to the amount of years i've been trying to master it only to have minimal progress, i can say drawing is smth i can never admit i'm good at. but i came to terms to it now (when i was in highschool i was so insecure about it lol) and bc i did, i draw things to enjoy, not bc i'm utterly pressured to improve!

On the surface, even his closest friends would have a different time answering this question. It's Erwin we're talking about, after all! The literal embodiment of academic perfection and charisma!

Erwin also wants to think of something other than an answer. Although he admits his flaws well when someone points them out, he wants to be good at everything as much as possible. For a perfectionist like him, self-admittance would mean giving up!

It is until you said something that made him recnsider. "Sometimes, I don't see you as a human."

In hindsight, the context of your question was, "What do you want to have for your birthday?" but Erwin seems to be the type to already have the things he'd want and need in life, perhaps if one were to speak materially. Every gift he'd receive would only impact him a little, and you want to change that.

He chuckles at the remark, amused as your features remain serious, "Do I feel like an alien?"

"Dunno," you shrug without turning up at him—only at the papers, hiding a frustrated blush. "And if you're actually a slimy organism underneath? It scares me."

You hear the office chair sliding towards you, and as swift as ever, Erwin's hand is on top of yours. He squeezes it gently, and you try to hold your fluster by glaring at him. Luckily. Only the two of you are in the office; what would the others say if they saw this? You and Erwin made it clear to keep your relationship hidden by acting 'decent' in public places.

He lets you feel its warmth first, although unsure of the reason why, then he guides your hand towards his cheeks. He presses your palm on it. 

"W-what?"

Erwin casually leans his cheek to your palms, albeit with a tranquil expression contrary to you, perhaps amusingly watching your reaction. "Mind repeating what you said earlier?"

"I said underneath. Hypothetically. And I don't mean it literally as well."

"Underneath? Well, that's quite a unique way of asking me to—"

You swatted your hand away and lightly hit his chest as you couldn't hold the fluster. "Stop playing with me. I'm not done yet."

"Well, I'm done."

"Please don't make it my problem."

"I'm actually offering to help."

You perk up in glee. If Erwin's to help, then you might as well consider yourself done. You pulled your chair away from your desk so Erwin could look at it.

However, Erwin asks something completely unrelated amidst the heap of your paperwork. "Why do you not see me as a human?"

"You feel like some sort of god."

"Silly, that's a metaphor that would fit you more."

"Oh, you. Stop flustering me." you huff in sarcasm. "You know about the crocheted scarf I was planning to give you before winter ends?"

"Yeah, and it's summer already. I'm still waiting for it, though."

"I threw it away."

"Huh?" Erwin looks at you in surprise, eyebrows twitched in confusion, perhaps in a whine. He knows you've been trying so hard for it. "Why would you?"

"I'm not good at it."

"But you were enjoying it. You told me so."

"Not because I enjoy it means I'm good at it," you then smile in defeat. "Let's just say I'm not as fast at learning as you are, no matter how much the task interests me. Maybe that's why I sometimes can't deem you human, too. Too good for me, I think."

Erwin could only observe you afterward. You don't try to make it a big issue, none but admittance that unpretentiously comes out of your mouth. As much as it is, perhaps, concerning self-esteem, Erwin is the one hit by it. The way you could admit your flaws a bit too easily and go home without pondering on it is something he couldn't easily do even if he tried. It takes one to help overcome an insecurity and another to admit his own.

"That's not true."

"It is. You really excel at everything, Erwin. That's something I also yearn to have for myself. You don't have flaws. Or, well, let's say you have one, but no normal being can see it so easily."

Well, you were able to lay down his flaws then and there. After all, he's having difficulty coming to terms with his flaws—or perhaps, on saying such admittances out loud. You are right. As much as Erwin demands you to open yourself up to him, some facets stay unsaid because he opts to and wants to remain an ideal image, perhaps one who can only admit his inadequacy if someone points it out. You're the complete opposite, though. You could admit your flaws and still end the day happily. The 'incompatibility', or so you might call it, could be giving him a hard time consoling you.

Oh, and when he recently enjoys consoling you the most. He really appreciates having you open up to him, enjoys the privilege of being able to take care of you as you let him, enjoys listening to your blabbers, and offers resolutions just like the strategic man he is. After all, he's one of the few people who sees that.

Only if he doesn't suck doing it.

"Oh no, did I say something that upset you?" you ask worriedly, sensing his silence.

And he's not the one to be given comfort right now, or so he thinks. It's as if you hit a nail, albeit unaware of how and where it hit him.

Just as if closing the distance is the needed nudge, Erwin pulls your figure towards him, holds both cheeks and surrenders to sweet kisses. Erwin's lips are warm, and the pace is languid. Yet, it's overwhelming enough to deprive you of your senses, let alone the urgent question of why he is suddenly acting the way he is. This might be the first time he got intimate with you inside the workplace. You know this type of kiss from him, too—he does it whenever he's dreary or after working on a significant research paper that got him weary.

The worry reverberates, and thus, you withdraw from the kiss, "Is this because of the scarf? I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have thrown it away. Don't worry, I'll make another one and—hmph!"

He cuts you off for another kiss, harsher this time, perhaps classified as a silent sulk for cutting off the lovely exchange, but no—you're wrong. It's not on you at all. Erwin is frustrated with himself. He holds onto your waist until you're seated on his lap and wraps his hand around your neck to press you further to his chest—hoping it would compensate for the distance you two have due to his inadequacies. To be great in giving you solace is to be vulnerable and imperfect; how could he do that?

He withdraws when both of you need air, albeit begrudgingly, "I'm sorry, Erwin. I know you waited for that scarf."

"No, it's not about that."

"Then what?"

He pretended to ponder for a few seconds, eyes roaming the room to gather his words. He pursed his lips before pointing out, "Don't you think the way you perceive me as a human far beyond you is a flaw I might have? Partners are not supposed to see each other that way."

"I'm merely exaggerating."

"Yes, but still."

"Are you saying you must apologize to me because you're such a perfect being?"

"No, because I'm failing to show you that I'm not."

Oh. 

You finally see where he's coming from. "Are you failing by choice?"

He averts his gaze away, "Yes."

"Then it can really be a flaw," you flash him a sympathetic smile, moving his face so he'd see you in the eyes again, "can you tell me why?"

“I'm not brave enough to show it the way other people do."

"You just did, honey."

"Not because I want to, but because I'm insecure about my inability to console you like a normal partner would. The way you perceive me right now says a lot about our distance. And mind you, doing this isn't even supposed to be this hard."

Both of you stopped. That is by far the most vulnerable thing he had said about himself since you started dating months ago—and it wouldn't even sound vulnerable unless it came out of Erwin's mouth. That's how hard he's been all this time.

He expects you to be annoyed. After all, that might be one of the shallowest reasons he had ever given, too.

But then you smile as if you appreciate him for saying that much—just as if you know it takes a lot for the Erwin Smith to admit something like that, "It's not something you can unlearn overnight. Do not fret."

He lets out a defeated chuckle, "That I know well."

"What's strange is that I'm not your first partner. How come this didn't become a problem with your previous ones?"

"Because people are content to perceive me that way. At some point, I preferred that, too. Honestly—" he leans his head on your shoulder, hands on your waist to keep your balance on his lap, "had it not affected the way I console you, I would prefer things to stay that way."

You pepper him with kisses all over his face, something he accepts as a reward, "Honestly, I would prefer you this way, too. A relationship with a god can be a bit of a struggle, after all."

"Indeed it is. What a struggle I have right now."

You glare at him, "What do you mean by that?"

He shakes his head nothing, hands lurking inside your shirt to feel you more, to shower you with reverence, "Let me finish this now. I miss our bed."

Today is his birthday, and you still need to think of a gift that could be deemed special.

As a last-minute reflection before giving up the gift that has been frustrating you for days, you try to ponder on the previous days since he opened up.

Erwin has become more talkative since then. He's always been chatty towards you since you started the relationship, especially when info dumping. However, this has a stark difference. He's trying too much as if matching an expectation no one but him had set up. Wording it as "forced" would perhaps hurt, but it's not something you could deny, either. Only when afternoon came did you realize how to fix it, with Erwin on a couch and crochet yarns on his lap. He has his phone at the coffee table and the familiar tutor video playing in the background. Eventually he sighs, unties the yarn, and repeats—this time with much precision, and you couldn't help but smile. When Erwin is about to learn something new, he locks himself in his office and spends the whole day studying it alone. Only now did you finally unravel why, and it's apparently part of his mentioned flaw that night.

He might be forcing himself lately, but it's the adjustment that counts.

Erwin perks up in surprise when you sit beside him and hold his hand. You guide his fingers into the correct way of tying the knot. You didn't say anything, and maybe you even tried to act like it's an everyday routine. Erwin pretends to listen and pick up the techniques you're blabbering, but in reality, he's just looking at your face. His lips are flat but twitching as he's trying to hold the urge to steal a kiss. He tries to inhale longer to indulge in the scent of your hair but not too much to call your attention. And as the moment passes, thirty minutes, perhaps because the video's finally done playing in the background, Erwin realizes something.

Just… just what held him back from being like this towards you? This is, in fact, a short step. The bare minimum, even. And even so, it felt genuinely liberating. Indeed, he's been forcing himself to be vulnerable recently, but this is the first time it exuded a positive feeling. 

Your hands gently stop, the instruction's done, and Erwin only realizes when you turn to look him in the eye, "You get it?"

"The what?"

"Huh?"

"Oh," Erwin tries to recall what his blank, sappy head might have digested so far, only to no avail. The only thing coming up in his mind right now is the smell of your shampoo. Perhaps his nerdy brain is trying to guess the unfamiliar flavor mix and earn your praise once his guess is correct. "I—uh—"

"You didn't listen at all."

He smiles, guilty.

You sigh, "I'm quite persistent, you see. We're not eating dinner until we both master this knot."

"Wouldn't this wait? I'm not in the mood anymore."

You shake your head and untie the yarn. But just as you're about to quip at his newfound impatience (and how cute he is trying to get the hang of it like a little kid learning origami), Erwin grasps the tool away from your hands and cups your cheeks.

He first lands a chaste peck on your forehead, then the bridge of your nose, then the tip of it, then the two cheeks, and finally, it deepens when he reaches for your mouth.

And because you are indeed a persistent being, you have no idea how shamelessly grateful Erwin was when you did more than just pull him in. He tried to stop himself, after all, for seconds in case it'd do anything better. Maybe you're not in the mood; perhaps you want to see the side of him not knowing better and learning things together. But when his palm glided on your cheek and your eyes widened in response, the tremor in his nerves overpowered the need to ask. 

Perhaps the tremor was gratitude because here he is, not getting any younger, and yet, this is only his first genuine step to face his vulnerability. 

You kiss him back and wrap your arm around his neck to pull him in, albeit quite sure why he's suddenly kissing you like this.

Unlike the previous one, his kisses are full of gentleness, and not a tinge of frustration can be seen. His hands, although huge and hard, slide inside your shirt so softly to feel your bare skin. You withdraw a bit to ask what might be the matter, but quickly forget the question when you see his face. He's blushing as though it's the first time he has kissed like this. His eyes are pretty lidded, lips a bit open, and you realize that although you had seen this expression before, it was for a very brief moment—not immediately after a chaste kissing session. 

He looks at you, quite disappointed for cutting the kiss short again. He grabs you by the ankle until you're sitting on his lap.

"Did something happen?"

He shakes his head, "Saying it out loud would be sappy."

"If you think I'd forgive you for spacing out while I'm—kyah!"

He starts sucking on your neck, "Shut up and don't ruin the moment."

"The what? Hey, don't mark on it. I'm warning you."

Erwin really wants to explain his thoughts. He's sure you'd be glad if you were to know all of this. Even though he could never perceive this as a significant step beyond, he bet you'd be giggling and jumping once you know.

He looks up and tries to explain but realizes how tired he is holding everything in—it took him decades. Erwin addressed it only after loving someone so ardently that he was willing to give up years-long prideful habits—all to love you more. He is exhausted, and your lips are so soft and so near, offering the sheer comfort he needs. It's parted slightly; if his tongue were to slip inside, it would send him into great bliss. Erwin is exhausted right now; perhaps he’d share his thoughts after this overwhelming, trembling warmth subsides.

For now, he at least tries to give a small context, "This is the best birthday I've ever had."

"Y-you think so?!" What have you done? You've been thinking about it for months! How could it happen without you knowing? "We spent the day indoors. We haven't even done anything special yet."

"You'd get quite full of yourself if you knew."

"You're trying to escape for not listening to my crochet blabbers."

"I don't want to get sappy today. Can't we just continue?"

"Well, uh… I really want to know what I did," you avert your gaze away. "I've been at the edge lately, thinking of ways to make you say you got the best birthday today—with me. Now that you finally say it, however…"

Again, it's as if you hit a nail, albeit unsure where and how you did.

"And there you have it. Your answer."

"Huh?" It took you a while to process that. "Because you're with me?"

He nods, albeit in a teasing manner.

"Eek. The sap shudders me."

"That's why I asked if we could just continue where we left off."

"The crocheting, indeed." you tease, but as you're about to reach the tool again, Erwin carries you up in his arms. He doesn't even need to tell you where he'd bring you. The impatient man would straight up lead you to bed to show what he wants.

Instead of scolding him for cutting the lecture off, you sigh and muffle your head in his neck, "You have to thank god it's your birthday today."

"Oh, yes of course," he kisses the crown of your head. "Thank you, dear."

TAGLIST: sorry for causing inconvenience with your notifs, my dears in taglist TT i wasn't planning to publish this tonight but the birthday request activated my brain neurons and said "what if u unload your WIPS and just publish this thing" so yea. sorry. @frenchdyer @watyousayin @collinnmckinley @aeanya @xiaotopia @cadenza-damour @grimistheangerinmystares @rinamars | STORY SUBSCRIPTION FORM

MORE OF SWEET SUBTLETIES SERIES HERE

[mochiotomedumplings]

just a little brainrot for sunturine month first day that turned into a semi-actual fic 😂 enjoy modern au for the prompt “weakness is love”.

imagine if aventurine - kakavasha, but he goes by aventurine as a work alias - came to an art exhibit organized by his team at the most prestigious museum of the capital. gaining connection in this circle has always been tough for people with only new capital like him, so events like this, while a hassle to set up and not exactly his cup of tea, were necessary to show that he had “substance” and not just a money-grubbing upstart - it’s also good to score points with the press.

he brushed up on the basics regarding the artworks just in case he was asked, and got a few new contacts but nothing exciting - they couldn’t be found discussing “money business” between paintings framed in gold worth millions because it’s frowned upon, and despite how annoying it was he had to play along to break into the circle. it was more fun to read up on the stock market than hearing those people talk about “artistic value” as though it wasn’t just a tool to show off their superiority - at least the former was far more thrilling and unpredictable.

boring talks, boring shows, he couldn’t wait to get it over with… until he caught sight of a silver-haired man looking at one of the exhibits he had bought purely bcs it reminded him of his own culture - he didn’t expect anyone in this place to take interest in a piece with almost no “value”. even without seeing the man’s face, he could tell it was no ordinary person - there was some sort of otherworldly radiance as if the man was a literal angel with a halo, his hair like strands of light and his whole person shone with a sort of grace that was effortlessly eyecatching. those people from the upper echelons acted like they were above everyone else, but it had never been so convincing like the sight before him - he understood this strange desire to come closer and watch the man in admiration, to answer all that is asked just to bask in that light.

or perhaps he was so tired that he was getting dizzy from sunlight… how could he just keel over at first sight for some random stranger ? yet even after rubbing his eyes and changing the angle, he still felt his heart beat looking at the “angelic” man. maybe the illusion would go away once they talk, it’s like that for everyone after all despite the bling and shine.

stepping into the spot next to that seemingly perfect man, he watched with ginger heartbeats as the other noticed and turned to look at him… and felt the breath gut-punched out of him even further. even that face looked carved out of a dream, soft with beautifully defined features, so enthralling that the man could move others with a mere tug of those lips, the slightest curve of soul-stealing golden eyes. it made him want to trace the contour of that face with his own hand, marvelling at such a beautiful canvas - someone with such divine looks yet untainted by the glam and grime of the mortal world, beautiful in a different way from those superstars dressed to the nines… and he had seen plenty of those.

he found himself lost for word for a moment, but unlike the emptiness after a gamble won it was a jittery feeling, wondering what the “angel” thought of him - if only he had put in more effort instead of just throwing on his usual clothes. people say he looks good in green, but also that he looks slimy… a businessman, but the only deal he wants right now is for the man in front of him to not dismiss him at first sight.

“you… are the proprietor of these exhibits ?”

and a smooth, warm voice to boot. it took a few seconds to register that he was, in fact, being spoken to without needing to call attention to himself. and it wasn’t a veiled insult - at least, it didn’t feel that way with how those honey colored eyes were without ripples, patiently waiting for his answer. wanting a conversation with him.

there was only the two of them here, and the man had seemed perfectly content and fine alone, sequestered away like hidden sunlight in a cave, shining over a treasure most precious. he was no gem, but he’ll take his chance to be seen by those eyes any time.

“yes, do you want to know more about the works on display ?” with a wave of the hand, he poised himself to act as a guide, hoping to take the man around. “this piece, ‘Weakness is Love’, was inspired after the artist spent a month living with a tribe in the mountains and experiencing their culture. these tapestries of different materials were woven together - groups and families held together as they lived among nature and embraced its struggles, relying on their bond to cover each other’s weaknesses. the net is firmly woven but its strength hinges on these tiny threads holding the silks and bands together, the ‘weakness’ is the ‘love’ that keep those people together in the tribe.”

it was reminiscent of his own past, but that was neither here nor there. the man was clearly not interested in the “value” of things if he was looking at this piece, and it just happened that aventurine had bought it not because of the price at all. it could have been a boring explanation, but the man was all ears listening with such rapt attention that he didn’t even find himself getting impatient with the exposition, even though such long-winded words would have put him off usually.

like he could just drone on forever and it would still be a delight with those eyes and that face watching him with such gentle interest that it was like being in the sun.

and it wasn’t a sunny day at all, but he felt warmth bubbling in his chest the entire time he was accompanied by the angelic man, following him in slow steps around the exhibition. he could barely perceive other people, occupied with the slightest tilt of head, the most minute glint in those eyes, the barest hint of amusement like melody peppered in that voice as they conversed in bits and pieces between the history and meaning of artworks - things he hadn’t been terribly interested in memorizing, but was glad he did to the letter. the beautiful man could fell a country with his smile, but was not the most expressive kind - aventurine could only tell he wasn’t boring the other because the man had asked about all the details and looked at him like he was the only person in the room. it was such a terrible, giddy feeling to be under that gaze.

but it was already the final exhibit, and he had already taken his time digging out every bit of details he could remember just to have a bit more time with the person next to him. would it be too forward to ask for a phone number or invite him to the next exhibit, one that he was definitely planning to organize all along ?

“thank you for showing me around, this is a charming exhibition.” a smile seemed to linger in those eyes. “but i have yet to know the name of such a wonderful guide.”

“aventurine.” he did not stutter in his mind nor his throat. “of the stonehearts. i have only the owner of this splendid museum to thank for lending me such a beautiful place to display these artworks.”

a melodious sound like honey, he thought was the way laughter wove itself into the man’s voice, lilting and beckoning. “i’m sure it’s the owner’s pleasure to have such beautiful artifacts in his castle. you have a talent for this, mr aventurine, just like your name would suggest.”

did the man sound almost appreciative of this alias, a name often scorned by kakavasha had never sounded so beautiful in his life. he would not be called such if he didn’t take this chance. “and i assume someone with such keen eyes like yourself would have a name just as special ?”

“i’m afraid it’s ‘special’ in another way not quite as flattering.” it had not been a day aventurine expected to find genuine praise for this weird alias of his, even less that he could encounter someone so ‘special’ like the man in front of him. “please, call me sunday.”

it was not a sunny day for a sunday, but that didn’t stop him from beaming (internally) when the man accepted his invitation to the next exhibition he had in the works (it is now). and he would choose getting a phone number over a namecard anytime… this business was a little ‘special’ after all.

and if later he found out that his new ‘friend’ had been the strict, ultra-formal museum director he had to email wrestled with to get his exhibition past a litany of rules and more on top of their cut-throat price negotiations… if he found himself ceding to the demands at the very first stage of their next contract, to the horrified eyes of his colleagues who would then be bamboozled by the special treatment they seemed to receive dealing with the biggest authority of art in the city, Penacony Museum of Dreams… if he was asked why he had thrown away all business acumen and exposed his weakness like that, needing to host that exhibition no matter what…

“if you know it’s like being looked at like that, you’ll understand.” not that he’d give anyone the chance to. “to put it simply, love is weakness after all.”

[chvnnie]

Masterpiece

hwang hyunjin x reader

word count: 5.1k

genre: smut - MINORS DNI

warnings: non idol au, artist hyunjin, mean (like really) dom!hyunjin, sub!reader, pet names: love, baby, beautiful, dirty talk, a dash of degradation, shibari (v poorly detailed - i’m so sorry) so bondage, use of vibrator, slight objectification, multiple orgasms (f receiving), choking, slaps to genitals (2 to be exact), unprotected sex - pls don’t, incorrect use of paint. if i missed anything - PLEASE LET ME KNOW. 

summary: hyunjin has the perfect idea to create a masterpiece

a/n: just want to shout out the ever so lovely @cariadchan, who definitely fueled this idea. you are a gem and a wonderful human, so thankful that you always listen to the filth i spill. also, i hope you all enjoy my first fic after a mini hiatus (the concerts and traveling and moving really took a toll on me). i’m so excited to share this fic with y’all!

this is a work of fiction. this fic in no way represents hwang hyunjin as a person or stray kids as a whole. you are responsible for the media you consume. please read responsibly.

taglist: @lix-ables, @rachalixie, @agustd-essert, @gibbysupremeacyisreal, @katieraven, @miamormi, @woahfruity, @isilentprincess

Dating Hyunjin is nothing less than adventure. You lost count of the amount of times you’ve been woken up by him, whisked away on some sort of last minute trip - typically fueled by passion for his craft and too many cups of coffee. Sometimes it’s down the street (“The stars are brighter in this neighborhood.”), sometimes it’s car rides to different cities to see specific buildings or mountains, and on the rare occasion, it’s red eye planes to different countries because he just can’t shake the idea of the Great Wall.

When you moved in together, the adventures became more domestic. You went from waking up to calls to pack a bag, to waking up to the autumn breeze flowing through the open balcony doors. It was one of his preferred places to paint, feet on the top of the stool and knees pulled to his chest as he painted whatever pulled him out of sleep that evening. Sometimes it was five minutes before he was back in bed with you; sometimes he spent hours out there, the morning sun highlighting his light brown hair in a way that made him look otherworldly.

You never really know what to expect with Hyunjin, and quickly learn not to be surprised by what you’re woken up to. Going with the flow of his inspiration proved to work out in your favor, Hyunjin repaying your support in ways that make you swoon just to think about.

“What would I do without you?” Whispers accompanied by soft brushes of his lips, kisses so gentle they’re almost nonexistent. Whatever you did for him, he made sure to repay tenfold. Not that you ever did so for the praise or reward - supporting Hyunjin was simple when loving him was as easy as breathing. You couldn’t even fathom not standing by his side, watching as his eyes fill with wonder before he grabs your hands and drags you along with him.

Hyunjin was never afraid to push boundaries with his art - using mediums that aren’t typical, supports that aren’t normal. That’s what made his art so unique, so exciting - Hyunjin was unpredictable, more than just paint on a blank canvas or charcoal on paper. It was thrilling to see where his mind would go next.

It was the day a black box arrived at your house that you realized how terrifying the thrills could be.

The box was lightweight, making you question if anything was actually inside it. You carefully flipped it, fingers tracing the edges. It was smooth, not a scratch on it as if it was simply placed at your doorstep instead of being handled by multiple people multiple times. The label was handwritten, slanted Japanese detailing both the return and delivery address. Hyunjin’s name were the only words not in Japanese.

Not thinking anything of the strange, black box, you took it upstairs to his studio. Knocking once, you let yourself in, finding your boyfriend huddled over a flat canvas-like tarp. Brown hair held back by a ponytail and headband, he studied the progress he had made before your arrival.

“Hi.” He said lightly, eyes still bouncing between the strokes on the tarp.

“Hi.” You responded, dropping the box on his work table. It didn’t make a sound when it landed. “You got something.”

“Hm?” He hummed, head turning in your direction while his eyes stayed on his project. “What is it?”

As if he could see you, you shrugged. “Not sure. I think it’s from Japan?”

Finally looking at you, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion. “Japan? What-“ When his eyes landed on the box, they widened, an all too familiar excitement sparkling in them. Hyunjin dropped his paintbrush, long legs helping him move quickly to the table. He wiped his paint stained hands on his white shirt before grabbing the box, flipping it the same way you did earlier. Unlike you, however, Hyunjin spent more time studying the box, more time tracing the smooth edges and reading the Japanese characters. It was almost like he was mesmerized by the box itself, no interest as to what could be inside.

“Well?” You asked, tearing his focus away. “What is it?”

His eyes darkened for half a second, and if you hadn’t had been looking at him, you would’ve missed the look that crossed his face that sent chills down your spine. With a blink, the look was gone, normal Hyunjin returning to you. “Nothing. Well. Something. I have this idea that won’t leave.” He said, removing one hand from the box to tap his forehead. “I’ve had it for weeks. It’s been keeping me up, stealing my focus, and now I can finally do something about it.”

The way Hyunjin spoke about the material inside the box piqued your interest more. He was brilliant, the way his mind creates magic without even trying leaves you in awe of him. “What’s the idea?”

Hyunjin paused, jaw clenching as if he had said too much. He typically wasn’t private about his art, especially with you - the sheer number of adventures he took you on to chase inspiration was proof enough. To say his reaction to your question was odd would be an understatement. “I’m not ready to share yet.”

The look he gave you left no room for argument. Meekly, you nod your head, softly agreeing to drop any questions that were bubbling to the surface.

“Actually, would you mind giving me some time alone with this? I need to…plan.” Breaking eye contact, he turned back to the table and dropped the box. You watched him move across the room, dropping into a squat as he dug through a box of mannequin parts. “Lock the door behind you.”

You backed out of the room, willing your body to move at a normal pace so you didn’t seem so alarmed by his sudden change in demeanor. Once the door was shut and locked did you let yourself feel what had been tugging at you since his eyes darkened.

You had thought you learned not to be surprised by Hyunjin, but the eerie feeling he and the box left you with was something you never saw coming.

Thuds of various volumes came from his studio throughout the rest of the evening, some accompanied by a string of low curses. He had only emerged from the room twice; once to grab an energy drink, the other to dig through the shared dresser in the bedroom. A delighted hum left his lips when he was buried in the dresser, quickly concealing whatever he found before retreating to this studio. He refused dinner, telling you he had enough snacks in there to keep the hunger at bay while he worked.

It wasn’t until around midnight that you began to get concerned. Even on the days he got lost in his work, he always found time to break away before you went to sleep, reassuringly kissing you and promising that he would be in bed soon. Most of the time, the promise was empty, but you didn’t mind, so long as he came to say goodnight.

Considering that you could still hear the thuds, it would be awhile before his attention broke.

Robe clutched around your body, you loudly knocked on the studio door. Something fell, followed by more curses and the sound of footsteps before Hyunjin cracked the door open. Red paint streaked his right cheek, some of it crusting on his hair. His brown eyes were blown out, wide awake while the rest of his face screamed exhaustion. “What?” He asked gently, tone laced with slight irritation.

“Just wanted to say goodnight.” You whined softly, reaching towards him. “And wondering when you’ll be in bed.”

The sight of your grabby hands made Hyunjin’s face soften, stepping out of the room briefly to hug you. As soon as his arms wrapped around you, you immediately relaxed, the lingering eerie feeling from earlier practically nonexistent at his touch. He smelled of sweat and paint, a slight burning scent lingering on his button up. It was a combination far too familiar, immediately comforting you.

“Just need a bit longer, then I’ll be there.” He whispered, peppering kisses across your head.

“Come to me soon, okay?” You ask, bunching his shirt up in your hands to keep him close.

“So soon.” Hands cupping your cheeks, he pulled your face out of his chest. When your eyes met, he smiled sweetly, making his tired eyes light. “Don’t wait up, ‘kay?”

Soft “I love you”s were exchanged in the dim hallway before Hyunjin slipped back into his studio, quickly shutting the door to keep his project hidden. From inside the room, you heard him hum a song, light thuds continuing the music they’ve been making all evening. He was out of reach again, the eerie feeling creeping up your spine again now that his touch was gone. You tried shaking it off, swiftly walking to the bedroom and burying yourself in the covers to try and subdue it.

It didn’t help, the feeling only growing stronger the closer you inched towards sleep.

///

The clock read 3:30 when Hyunjin woke you up.

“Love?” He whispered, long fingers brushing back the hair that covered your waking face. “Come on, wake up for me.”

You mumbled his name, leaning into his gentle touch. Butterflies filled your tummy at the feeling of his cold hands on your face, sleepy moans leaving your lips the more he touched you. “Bed time?”

His chuckle was airy, matching the gentle way he continued to touch you. “Not yet. Wanna see what was in the box?”

You had almost forgotten about the box, about how secretive your boyfriend had been with it since it arrived. Your eyes shot open, looking up at Hyunjin. He’s showered since you last saw him; the paint that was on his face gone, hair still damp and pushed back with a headband. A tight black shirt has replaced his paint-stained button up, short gym shorts riding up his muscular thighs. When your eyes meet his, the sparkle in his burning with excitement and pride, it’s obvious that whatever was in that black box helped him accomplish something big.

That was enough to ease the feeling that’s plagued all evening.

Hyunjin helped you out of bed, fingers lacing with yours as he walks you down to his studio. Every step felt like a mile, anticipation bubbling in your chest the closer you got. When the two of you arrived at the closed door, Hyunjin brought the hand he held to his lips, planting a firm kiss on the back of it.

“I love you.” He whispers, then opens the door.

The studio, once cluttered with various art supplies, had been organized since you last stepped in; paints neatly tucked away on wall shelves, canvases piled in corners. The curtains were drawn, which to a stranger would seem normal, but you know how Hyunjin’s brain works. He can’t focus unless he can see the sky, so the fact that the curtains were closed was enough to make you question just what he had in mind.

All the lights were off except for a single lamp, warm yellow spreading across Hyunjin’s work table in the center of the room. The lamp was high enough to not impose on his work, but also to give him a clear view of what his hands were doing. A white cloth was spread across the table, protecting the wood table from the paint he was bound to drop on it. In the center of the table, atop of the white barrier, sat a bundle of black ropes that, at the right angle, sparkled under the light.

Was that it? Was that the secret Hyunjin kept tucked away all evening?

Your body moved before you could fully process what you were looking at. Ropes? Why was he being so weird about ropes? It wasn’t the first time he’s incorporated them into his art; you were recruited more than once to help him tie pieces of his projects together. What was so important about these ropes?

It wasn’t until you touched them, the lightweight material slipping through your fingers, that everything began to click in your head.

Hyunjin’s hands softly gripped your hips, body pressing against yours from behind. “Pretty, right?”

You swallowed, continuing to rub the soft ropes. “What are they for?” The room suddenly felt very cold, your mouth dry as you asked the obvious question.

“To tie you up.”

The ropes slipped from your hands, landing on the table with a light thud as Hyunjin began to kiss your neck. It wasn’t a surprise - you were never surprised when it came to him - but, nevertheless, it set you on edge. Goosebumps covered your skin, stilling at the idea of those smooth ropes against your body.

“I thought it was for a project.” You stated, voice barely above a whisper.

“It is.” His words followed by a nip on your neck, and you had to bite back the whimper that threatened to release. “You’re the project.”

Before you could ask him to clarify, his large palms pushed up your body, bringing your shirt along with them. Stomach exposed to the cold room, Hyunjin’s kisses became more aggressive. More desperate, more demanding.

“I had a dream about you.” One palm kept your shirt up, while the other returned to your hips, pointer finger twisting around the hem of your lace panties. “Bound for me, letting me explore every inch of you between the knotted ropes. God, you looked so pretty, so helpless at my disposal. The way you whimpered under my touch was heavenly. When I woke up, I tried to paint the scene, writing every detail I could remember. That’s when it hit me - why paint you when I could paint you?”

You blinked, trying to process the last few words. It was impossible to think as it was, Hyunjin’s hand sneaking closer to your core not helping anything. “What? Hyunjin-“

In a flash, he spun you around, cornering you between his body and the table. The look he was giving you was the same one you had caught on his face earlier - dark, twisted with the glint of wonder shining through. It was in that moment that the eerie feeling from before came back, this time bringing along an excitement that had your knees buckling together. You were terrified - the look on his face was enough to make you want to break eye contact and hide. But the thrill of his touch in ways you’ve yet to experience overpowered every last drop of fear.

“Let me tie you up.” His voice was low, raspy with a desire that went straight to your core. “I want you bound and pretty for me, a willing canvas to create a masterpiece.”

And though you weren’t sure if your body was trembling with fear or excitement, you nodded your head, a light “okay” leaving your lips. You would never not support Hyunjin in his passion - especially if it included you.

The most genuine, beautiful smile spread across his face, cheeks dimpling as he leaned in and caught your lips. Hands cradling your face, he tilts your head back, allowing his tongue to slip inside with ease. The acidic taste of coffee and chocolate danced across your tongue, distracting you from the movement of hands down to your underwear. Swiftly, your core was exposed, cold air hitting your wet mound and making you shiver. The chill only lasted a second before Hyunjin’s warm fingers were on your clit, teasingly slow circles matching the pace of his tongue.

With a pinch to your sensitive bud, your lips disconnected, head rolling back and hips arching forward. Fingers found the nape of his neck, pulling at his hair as he rolled your clit between his thumb and forefinger.

“Beautiful, beautiful girl.” He mumbled, eyes raking your shaky form. “I can’t wait to paint you.”

Hyunjin slowly released your clit, hands moving upward and removing your shirt. Body now bare, he reached behind you, gathering his supplies to ready you for him.

///

He took his time tying you up

Every time the rope tightened around a different section of your body, he kissed the area between, worshipping you as he worked. You were laying on his work table, Hyunjin hovering over you with a focused look on his face. Only once your wrists were bound and above your head, feet tied to the ends of the table, did he pause his movements.

He studied you from above, long fingers dancing over the knots he had so diligently tied. Your legs were sectioned off into thirds; thighs squeezed into two sections while your calves were one. Rope wrapped around your hips, creating a barrier between the top thigh knots and your stomach, your core exposed to him. Hyunjin had toyed with the idea of a crotch tie, but didn’t like the idea of not having access to you.

Which didn’t make sense to you - wasn’t the purpose of this to paint you? That’s what you thought, until Hyunjin reached under the table and pulled out your favorite bullet vibrator, or rather, his favorite.

This toy was only really used when he requested it; often when he was away or if he wanted to push boundaries in public with you. It was a fine toy - multiple settings and intensities, long battery life, quiet. Nothing too different than the rest of your collection, but what made it special was the bluetooth setting. The app that let Hyunjin have control, even when he wasn’t close by.

After running the vibrator up and down your folds, and adding a drop of his spit for extra lubrication, he worked the small toy inside on you, pressing the power button to leave it on standby. Nothing would happen until Hyunjin made it happen - and that made this whole experience much more nerve racking than you anticipated.

Double checking every knot, pulling on the ropes to make sure you couldn’t escape, he climbed off the table and began to mix paints on his palette. “No matter what happens, stay still for me.” He lifts a paintbrush, the slick orange paint sparkling in the light. Gently, the tip touches your left nipple, brushing down to where the rope sectioned off that breast. “Don’t mess up my art.”

It was much easier said than done; he had just started and the chill of the paint was already tempting you to arch your back. You bit your bottom lip, hissing as Hyunjin slowly moved the brush around the base of your breast. His brushstrokes were always meticulous; he was precise and patient, each stroke just as important as the last. It was something you had always admired as a watcher; his devotion obvious in the obsessive way he works. But now, as the art, you felt your sanity slipping with each stoke.

Hyunjin pulled back to coat the brush with more paint, giving you time to release the breath you were holding. This was only the beginning - how were you going to stay still as he painted your entire body if just one of your breasts was making you so-

A yelp slipped from your lips as the vibrator activated, mildly humming inside your walls. You barely had time to process the new sensation before Hyunjin’s brush was on you again, painting over the skin he missed earlier. Mind fuzzy, you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to regulate your breathing. The tickling brush of paint on your breast and the speed of the vibrator that was just fast enough set you on edge. This was absolutely evil, and you’re sure if you looked over at your boyfriend, he would have a smug smile on his face. Teasing you was just too easy.

Once your left breast was completely covered, Hyunjin leaned in, blowing cool air over the paint. Gasping, you couldn’t stop your back from arching this time, erect nipple brushing over his chin.

Oh, no.

Clicking his tongue, one hand found your stomach, shoving your hips flush against the table while the other grabbed the paintbrush, fixing the smudge you made. “What did I just say?” Hyunjin said. His tone was soft, but was laced with a warning that he wouldn’t take much more of this. “Don’t. Move.”

Your lips quivered, whimpering as you apologized. “Sorry, Hyunjin.”

Standing up, Hyunjin put the dirty brush on a cloth and grabbed a new one, dipping it in a pale yellow paint. Orange paint glistened on his chin, eyes bouncing from the palette to your right breast. The tip of his tongue stuck out, slowly licking his bottom lip as he leaned across your body to paint the other breast.

You kept your body as still as you could as he worked, nails digging into your palm anytime you felt the urge to move. Though no easy feat, you made it through the second breast painting. When Hyunjin blew on your skin this time, you used every ounce of strength you had to keep still.

“Good job, baby.” He hummed happily, stretching after being hunched over for long. “You’re behaving so well.”

The praise goes right to your core, only adding to the pleasure of the vibrations. You had almost forgotten the toy was there - so focused on the brushstrokes that the vibrations were the last thing on your mind. But you were quickly reminded as Hyunjin picked up his phone, a wicked smile on his face.

“I’m sure you can handle more, right?”

It was a rhetorical question, an answer not required as he switched the setting to a pulse and upped the speed. You squirmed, trying to force your legs together but were, of course, unsuccessful. Hyunjin’s laugh echoed through the room, the depravity of it making you shake.

“What’s wrong? Too much?”

Wide eyed, you looked up at him, helpless eyes scanning his for an ounce of compassion. There was none to be found. “I-it-Hyunjin-“

“Shhh.” Hyunjin shushed you as he leaned in, lips pressing a sweet kiss to the tip of your nose. Wanting more, you nudge your nose up, the tip barely brushing his plump lips before he pulled away. “Good canvases don’t talk.”

With that, he moved on, grabbing a thicker brush and dipping it in maroon paint. You lifted your head up, eyes watering both from his cruel words and the intense sensation between your legs. He was treating you like nothing more than an object, and as much as it broke you, it also sent a wave of arousal through you. You were nothing but a tool for him to work with - and you loved it.

He focused on your right side this time, thick brush tip pressing down on your inner thigh. You gasped as he dragged it up, the bristles dangerously close to your core. His lips quirked up in a smirk, bringing his brush closer to the edge of the barrier. Your chest was rising rapidly, panting as you tried to control yourself. This was getting dangerous - the more Hyunjin’s brush grazed your thigh, the closer your orgasm got. It had been moving by the inch, slowly building up as he worked on you. Now that Hyunjin was focused on your thigh, it was moving by the mile, the speed at which it was building was almost unbelievable.

And if Hyunjin didn’t want you moving, he sure as fuck didn’t want you coming.

The brush flipped in his hand, the handle of it now sweeping over your clit. You tugged at the bindings on your wrists, whimpering as you willed yourself to not cum. You could do it. You could keep it in. You could hold it, if only you could focus-

Then the handle nudged the tip of the vibrator, and you lost all control.

You came with a scream, head hitting the wooden table hard enough to concuss you. Pleasure made your toes curl, tears forming at your waterline as the feeling overwhelmed you. God it was so intense, god it felt so good-

The brush fell from his hand, the sound of paint splattering on the floor making your eyes shoot open. You didn’t have to look down to know what happened - the orgasm ruined his work, paint running down your inner thigh and mixing with your cum as it dripped on the white cloth. Fear coursed through your body as you looked at Hyunjin, shock covering his face as fire began to burn in his eyes.

God, Hyunjin was mad.

The vibrator was ripped out of you, joining the brush on the ground. He was on top of the table in an instant, one hand gripping your throat while the other hit the table beside your head.

“What the fuck-“ his grip tighten, body pressing onto your as he leaned in. “-did I say?”

Whimpering, you shook your head, mouth opening to speak before you snapped it shut, tears breaking free as you stared at him. The last thing you want is to piss him off more.

“I was so patient with you.” Using the grip on your throat to ground himself, his other hand moved to his shorts, shoving them down. “I was so gentle with you. And this? This is how you repay me? By ruining my work?”

You shook your head rapidly, wishing you could explain it to him. It wasn’t your fault; not really. You didn’t ask for the vibrator, that was all his idea. Hyunjin was the one who made you break - you did nothing but lay there and take it like the good canvas you are.

It was only a matter of time before you came, and he should have recognized that.

“I didn’t even get to finish your body. I didn’t even get to use you the way I wanted to. Are you happy? Did it feel good, fucking up my masterpiece?”

When you didn’t answer, his free hand smacked your cunt, a choked cry leaving your throat.

“Fucking answer me.”

“Y-yes.” Your words were barely audible, restricted air supply making it hard to speak. “Yes, it felt good-“

“I hope so, because that’s the last time you get to come for a while.” His hand came down on your core once more, harder than the previous slap, before he rammed his cock deep inside you.

Not a second was spared before Hyunjin pulled out, fucking back into you with an aggression you’ve never felt before. Mad was an understatement - Hyunjin was livid.

He let go of your neck, ripping his shirt off his torso and pressing his chest to yours. Teeth connected with your collarbone as the paint rubbed off onto him, orange and yellow connecting you. It was hard to tell which feeling was more addicting - the slightly painful stretch of your walls as his cock abused you, the burning of the rope around your wrists as you tugged on them, or the texture of the paint mixing with your combined sweat.

This fuck was mindnumbingly good, making you question the intentions of his art. Did he actually want to create a masterpiece?

Regardless of the answer, you were more than happy with this outcome.

He released your collarbone, pushing himself up with a moan as he dove deeper inside of you. The speed at which his hips were snapping was unreal, barely letting you catch your breath before he was hitting your g-spot again. Looking down at where you met, he chuckled when he saw the smeared paint on his chest.

“Not enough.”

How he reached the tubes of paint, you don’t know. One second his hands were caging your bound body in, the next, he was squeezing a tube of pastel pink paint on your chest and stomach. Once that was empty came the second tube - a baby blue - which he coated his hands with. Hyunjin rubbed his hands together, making sure to color every inch of them, before latching onto your throat again and closing the space between your bodies.

The new chill had you reeling all over again, clenching around Hyunjin as he fucked you harder. Chest to chest, his body slid up and down yours, creating a pretty sunset tone on both of you. His hand held your throat gently, squeezing only to hear you gasp every once in a while. It was messy and cold, and every second of it was pure art.

“You look so pretty like this.” Hyunjin whispers the first kind words spoken in hours, hips beginning to slow as his cock twitched inside you. “I knew you’d be the perfect canvas for a masterpiece.”

Before you could respond, his lips collided with yours. His passion was unmatched, kissing you as if this was the last time he would. You cried into the kiss, body submitting to another wave of pleasure as Hyunjin’s hit. Everything was too much - the paint sticking his body to yours, the feeling of his cum filling you up, his sweet moans getting lost in your mouth.

It was too much, and you couldn’t get enough of it.

Hyunjin stilled inside you, crashing against your body as his head rolled into your neck. Stretching up, his blue hands found your bound ones, intertwining and squeezing hard enough to cut off blood supply.

The two of you laid there in the dark studio, you unable to move and him unwilling. Exhaustion washed over you, eyes fluttering shut as you counted his breaths against your neck. You could feel the paint drying, the cracks on your skin bringing you back to reality.

Low grunts left your boyfriend as he pushed himself up, eyes screwed shut as he pulled his softening cock out. He sat up on his knees, head thrown back to gather his breaths. You took the opportunity to study his body - orange, yellow, and pink blending on his god-like chest in the prettiest pattern. Paint highlighted his abs, muscles shining in the light and if you weren’t so tired, you swore you would squirm at the sight.

With a sigh, his eyes opened back up, blinking to adjust to the light. They met yours, the familiar glint of wonder warming your body. A fond smile stretched across his face as he stared at you, no doubt taking in your body just as you did his.

“Well? Is it everything you pictured?” You asked, a playful smiling gracing your lips.

Hyunjin shook his head with a soft laugh, studying the details of his work. “Even better.” A hand found your cheek, smearing blue paint across it. “You really are my masterpiece.”

©: chvnnie 2022

[x-i-l-verify]

{AKMU + daemons}

LEE CHANHYUK + NERI (BACTRIAN CAMEL) Bactrian camels are a social, tolerant, adaptable, tough species of ungulate that is able to survive and thrive both in extremely cold and extremely hot environments. Even though camels have a reputation of being ill-tempered, stupid, stubborn, and mean, this couldn’t be further from the truth. This quote from Robyn Davidson, who studied the animals for years, puts it best: “They are the most intelligent creatures I know except dogs, and I would give them an IQ rating roughly equivalent to eight-year-old children. They are affectionate, cheeky, playful, witty, yes witty, well-possessed, patient, hard-working, and endlessly interesting and charming. They are also very difficult to train, being of an essentially undomestic turn of mind as well as extremely bright and perceptive.”

Neri is Chanhyuk’s stubborn, straightforward, independent side, while he is more adaptable, insightful, and cooperative.

NAME MEANING Neri means “my candle” in Hebrew.

-

LEE SOOHYUN + BARUC (GREAT CORMORANT) Great cormorants are a species of gregarious, hardy, cooperative, communicative species of seabirds, which, during their breeding season, commonly roost in colonies that can reach numbers of up to several thousand birds. When hunting for fish, they regularly dive to depths that would prove fatal to most other birds, and can filter liquid through their salt glands so that they can safely drink seawater without dying from over-salinization. They are generally non-aggressive and accepting of each other, monogamous breeders, and very attentive, nurturing parents. Cormorants are also quite playful, clever birds, having been observed playing and interacting with floating debris in water such as sticks, leaves, and fish, and swallowing pebbles before going hunting to reduce their buoyancy underwater. 

Soohyun is idealistic, whimsical, and confidant, while Baruc is more sensible, diligent, and modest.

NAME MEANING Baruch is the Hebrew word for “blessed.”

SOURCES

http://www.daemonpage.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=24128

http://ryanmurdock.com/2013/03/amazing-camel-facts/

http://animaldiversity.org/accounts/Phalacrocorax_carbo/

http://www.outdooralabama.com/great-cormorant

http://www.scielo.br/scielo.php?script=sci_arttext&pid=S1676-06032008000200025

[terrence-silver]

If you want to could you do a demon!Terry au where he seduces an angel!beloved?

― Terry falsely presenting himself as another angel (which is in a sense, partial truth, seeing as how he was once an angel), or even a curious human who will tenderly keep beloved's otherworldly secret? Or better yet, Terry being entirely upfront that he's a demon, but spinning such tall tales (a great many which are ironically true) and evoking so much pity and sympathy in beloved, that they'll empathize with him and even entirely justify him in spite of knowing what he is and what he's capable of doing. Not all demons are the same, Terry clarifies. Some are simply misguided, tormented, lost souls and after all, isn't it an angel's purpose to embrace such creatures? All creatures? Which beloved will. Terry is unlike any demon they've ever heard of, because he's the very face of warmth and kindness. Towards beloved, anyway.

― Thing is, Terry's out to have beloved loving in him in spite of their morals, worldviews, preconceived notions and ethics, slowly betraying everything they ever stood for once he employs his cunning and charms on them, effortlessly luring them in. He doesn't want them to change and fall. Not really. Not just yet. There's a time and place for everything. Not as much as he wants them in the light and still not being help themselves with him. They're unlikely friends. Confidantes. This demon is handsome, charismatic and oddly gentle. Furthermore, this demon makes an awful lot of sense concerning a great many topics. Terry and beloved talk for hours, on some astral plane overlooking LA, neither here nor there. They part ways and beloved's on some cloud somewhere, watching Terry shed his leathery black wings and turn human.

― Terry Silver lives a double life. One of material flesh and decadence, as a human Billionaire and business tycoon, and one of otherworldly, hellish power nobody sees and his attachment and interest in this angel isn't for free. His endgame is corrupting and keeping them all for himself. Building a colossal silver cage in the bowels of his mansion, where he can have beloved like a pet. His own bird of paradise. Perhaps, steal their wings if they act up. Nail them to a wall somewhere, like a trophy, which, for any unfortunately nosey human asking, is just avant garde art piece he possessively shows nobody and the price for seeing and snooping is always grand. Thing is, Terry would go to such extremes and more, but he'd much rather beloved come and stay with him of their own accord. Come to him because they're bewitched.

― Bewitched they will be, once his friendliness and stimulation of beloved's mind goes from the metaphysical into the physical and he introduces them to the pleasures of the flesh and how good it feels to touch and be touched; a strictly demonic, animalistic and human pursuit, Terry utilizes his sculpted body to draw beloved in. This demon is incredibly tall. Muscular. Blue eyed. Strong. His wings as pitch black as his hair, or perhaps, if the devil is old, as silver as his tresses. Once Terry's seduction of beloved's soul is done, he utilizes sex and carnal coupling to do the rest, and if the fruits of heaven are sweet, they aren't as sweet as they are when savoured from Terry's mouth and one little death at a time, he has them joining him in the human realm, corrupting his angel.

― Except, once falling and making that leap, beloved cannot go back (which Terry knew; of course he knew), and in effect, they're trapped with Terry Silver in the human world, in on Los Angeles (highly ironic), in his manor, at his mercy, belonging to him, perhaps, entirely ill-equipped to navigate a confusing, scary, baffling, chaotic human world, which works perfectly in Terry's benefit because now, his control of them is perfect and he can gaslight them however he pleases. He caresses and preens their feathered wings for them as they sob in their shared bed while he coos them, comforting them, their ankle fastened to the bed's frame. Maybe the divine laws of the universe are the unfair ones if falling for passion is considered a fall? Or maybe Terry took advantage of someone naive and lacking context.

― Beloved's feathers fall off one by one and in his devotion, Terry preserves each and every one as some sort of precious, priceless thing. Maybe as a trophy, signifying his victory and conquest. Maybe he plucks or cuts off a great many himself if beloved acts up, taking pleasure in their sweet pain. Angels suffer particularly beautifully. He commissions someone to recreate the semblance of beloved's now bare wings as a piece of machinery built and decorated with their own feathers he gifts them with it; a present Icarus himself would be envious of. No different that gifting a student with a black Cobra Kai Gi. There's a subtle sadness to the act, because beloved can never fly away with artificial wings and Terry knows that too. And is that so wrong? Is it so wrong that he is pleased? He doesn't think it is.

[binniesthighs]

❀on a summer’s eve | reader x hyunjin | ❀

or, a sequel to on a winter’s day 

Pairing: self insert, female reader x hwang hyunjin 

Genre: the fluffiest smut 

Tags: confident!reader, shy!hyunjin, dancer au, college au, softnsubby!hyunjin, dom!reader,  fluffy established relationship, comfort fic, slow-ish burn, popsicle/temperature play, face sitting, orgasm denial, oral (m & f receiving), choking, nipple play, dressin’ up hj like the pretty boy he is, praising, unprotected sex (be safe loves!), cockwarming

Word count: 5k 

There are many things about Hyunjin that seem like they must be too good to be true. Often, you’d find a chuckle slipping past your lips thinking about how you must’ve done something world saving in your past life to deserve someone as unbelievable as him. 

Gone were the days when you would plead for him to stay just a little while longer so you could savor just a couple more moments with him. Now, he was all yours. The nuisances of your feelings for him had dissipated like the little snowflakes that would melt into his skin. 

“I want to stay with you like this forever.” 

Hyunjin would draw little pictures into your skin when you would hold him in your arms. It was otherworldly how his bare body felt against yours as your limbs would be woven into the thin sheets of your bed. The two of you would wonder at the glow stars on your ceiling as if they were real constellations, and he would tell you every little thing about his day, or the songs that he wanted you to listen to. 

During the cold months, he promised you that he would take you to see the real stars, not just the inkling of them that you could barely see due to the city’s glow. Hyunjin would actually make dozens of promises to you, so many, that you had lost track: 

I promise to never miss you dance 

I promise to share everything with you 

I promise to hold you as tight as I can 

I promise to keep you company when you are sad 

I promise to hold your hand when it’s cold, and when it’s warm 

I promise to take you to the sea 

I promise to take you to the stars 

✦✧✦✧

Hyunjin’s silvery blonde hair whipped at the slide of his face, getting little strands stuck in his mouth. Every once and a while you would hear him make little pah pah pah sounds to get it unstuck from his lips. It was partly his fault: he was the one that wanted the car window open. To your right, the great expanse of the sea stretched for as far as your eyes could fathom, and the foamy waves bubbled at the shore. It had been years since you had consumed the ocean’s aquamarine color. 

The summer warmth kissed your skin as you outstretched your hand out from the window to wave your hand in the airstream. The outline of our hand traced the shimmering waves, pretending that you had become one with them. 

You rested your chin on the windowsill, feeling Hyunjin’s hand reach out to you and squeeze your thigh. From the corner of your eye, you knew that he must have been smiling. His long fingers interlaced with yours and he pulled your hand to dote a tiny kiss on it. 

“This has to be my favorite place!!” Hyunjin raised his voice over the wind. “Do you like it?” 

“I love it!!!” you rang both of your hands in the air, motioning to the gorgeous scenery in front of you: it was the perfect little sea-town hugging the coast, built a little to hills which were adorned with blooming wildflowers and the greenest trees. 

“I can’t wait to share it all with you.” His adorable little smile shone back rivaling  warmth of the setting sun. 

✦✧✦✧

The waves were loudest in your ears once you had reached the beach with gravel crackling under the tires. Seeing as it was nearly dinner time, the beach had cleared out slightly, leaving only a few beach-goers with their rainbow umbrellas and neon colored folding chairs. In front of you was the most breathtaking sunset that you had likely seen in all of your life: it appeared to be so impossibly real that you surmised that your brain tricked you into thinking you had dreamt it into reality. 

“wow.” you gasped. 

For being one that loved hearing the sound of your voice, there were often times when you were left speechless, and when you were, you would never forget. 

Your fingers reached out to the glass of the windshield, following the way that the sky faded from sapphire blue, to azure, to burnt orange and red, then to pure white and yellow. A stripe of the sunset reflected upon the horizon that sparkled. 

“Are you ready?” Hyunjin tucked a rogue strand of your hair behind your ear. 

“Mmhm.” 

ding-ding-ding went the opened car doors. 

Hyunjin slicked his sweating roots under a cap, then grabbed out his camera. The humidity that rolled of the ocean flooded your pores and made your whole body swell with warmth. Your boyfriend fiddled with his camera settings with the sunset behind him, and you thought to yourself for the millionth time: he really was pure art. 

His sleeveless shirt flapped at his sides where he held your hand and the heat from both of your bodies intertwined as you padded though the burning sand. You couldn’t remember the last time that you had felt the sand between your toes. 

“Is it okay if I can take pictures of you?” Hyunjin shyly asked, squeezing your hand. 

“Of course you can.” you allowed. “But! You have to let me take pictures of you as well! That’s my condition.” 

Hyunjin groaned a little in retaliation. “You know that I don’t like--” 

“--Jinnie, trust me, if you were in my head, you’d know how much I’m loosing my mind over how gorgeous you look here.” 

“Nooo...I don’t think so--” 

“I mean it!! Would you please let me show you?” 

Hyunjin worriedly crossed his brows. 

If only he knew what a fool for him you were.  

With little warning, you launched yourself into his arms, nearly tackling the both of you to the ground. 

“Hwang Hyunjin you are the prettiest boy that ever lived!! And I love youuuuuu!!” 

Your boyfriend’s flushed face wrinkled into a smile and the little smile lines around his nose made your favorite appearance. 

He laughed out, “And I love you tooooo!!!” then gave a peck to your forehead. “Fine, you can take pictures of me...but can we just keep them to ourselves?” 

“Oookay then, if that’s what you would like.”

Tenderly, he cradled your face in his hands, holding your eyes with his own, then pressed his forehead to yours. 

“Thank you for being my safe place.” 

His whispers faded into the sound of the ebbing waves. 

The setting sun warms your whole body when he leans in to kiss you with lips parted slightly. You must have kissed him hundreds of times, but it never changed. Each kiss with him was like the first: as if he cared for nothing else in the world, only you. When the two of you became one like this, you felt whole; bathed in the sense of utter peace that he would give to you. He found himself in you, pouring his love in every one of his fluttering kisses, and you would give it back, telling him wordlessly that he made up your world. 

Hyunjin’s tongue slowly tested your bottom lip, eliciting a tiny squeak from your mouth, barely audible. 

“Shouldn’t we save that for later?” You giggled into him. 

He returned with an embarrassed little smirk to you. “I just...wanted to kiss you somewhere beautiful.” 

You snuck your hand between the two of you, stealthily grasping the camera strap that hung loosely around his neck. 

“I wanna go first!! 

✦✧✦✧

Hyunjin tugged you out to the ocean, closer and closer until your feet sunk into the sand underneath you. By now, the red sun was nearly fully set into the horizon, and the two of you stood soaking up the last bits of its essence. 

You slung  your arm around Hyunjin’s waist, gripping hard. “Well, we’re getting in aren’t we??” 

“We’re what?!” 

“I hope you don’t mind getting wet!!” 

The blonde boy stumbled after feeling your hand grasp around his wrist to pull him into the water. 

“Wait wait wait!!!” He yelped with wide eyes. “My-my clothes?!” 

You stomped into the white crests, splattering droplets all over your jean shorts. “There’s towels in the car!” 

The deeper you got, the more shocked Hyunjin became, and only held tighter to your hand. 

“Come on,” you hushed, “I promise I won’t let go ‘Jinnie.” 

Your boyfriend adorably gulped, following your steps until the water adhered the fabric of his clothes to his body. Of course, you pretended not to notice how they hugged him, but this was no easy task. 

“It’s not as cold as I thought it would be.” Hyunjin nervously laughed out. 

The two of you walked on, at least until you were able to stand with the water draping over your shoulders. For a couple moments, you simply stood, letting the waves pass by you and the current suspend your bodies. He had wrapped his arms around you, holding on tight light you might float away. 

“Thank you for bringing me here.” Your pruned fingers ran up and down his arms. 

He sighed out with a tiny smile, “I had to keep my promise.” 

“Can we...kiss again? I think it’s--ya know--really beautiful here too.” 

Hyunjin answered you by pulling you into his body and angling the back of your neck up to meet his lips. It was a little hypnotic even, feeling so lightheaded from his affectionate kisses and the water bobbing your bodies up and down lightly. Something about it all gave you goosebumps. Hyunjin’s lips tasted very faintly of the sea salt while he pressed smiling gifts upon yours. 

Distantly, you thought that you had heard the shriek of a seagull, but it turned out to be something much different: 

“Ewwww MOM they’re kissing!!!” 

✦✧✦✧

Hyunjin would go on to fulfill another promise to you that evening when he suggested that the two of you eat dinner outside: out in the little garden that looked as if it hadn’t been tended to in years, but still held some kind of whimsical magic to it. In many ways, how the weeds and mosses would cover the stone pathways and underbrush made it appear forest-like. 

The garden wasn’t the largest, and held no more than a couple flowering bushes, some lanterns and a well-loved hammock. As he grilled the vegetables for you both, he told you to sit back and just...look up. 

Dawn had faded into night, and blanket of darkness consumed the sky. However, it wasn’t desolate in the slightest, but rather was splashed with the most magnificent array of twinkling white stars. In the opaque city sky, you hadn’t ever seen them as brilliant. 

Hyunjin rocked you back and forth on the hammock, arm wrapped around your shoulder while you admired them together. 

“Miss the glow stars?” He breathed out a teasing chuckle. 

“-Nah, this puts them to shame.” 

“I wish we could always see them like this.” 

A contented silence filled between you, and your eyes traced the shapes in the sky trying to make out the constellations that you knew. 

“I think you’re making this my favorite place, Hyunjin.” 

He giggled, “I haven’t even shown you my favorite part.” 

✦✧✦✧  

“I actually...you’re the first one who I’ve ever shown this.” Hyunjin fiddled with the door handle at the end of the hallway, poking a key into the lock which was tied around a red string. 

“Huh, this feels a little familiar right? You hiding some kind of colossal mess in there like when I showed you my apartment for the first time?” 

He tittered sweetly, “No, it’s not like that.” 

“Ahhh come on, I’m dying to know!!” 

At last, he swung the door open with a creak, revealing the pitch black room. He flung the light switch on.

“When we would come visit here over the summers, this room was all for me.” 

Hyunjin’s voice echoed and bounced off the walls of the nearly entirely empty room. It was furniture-less, save for one corner which stored a velvety and cushy looking chair on a circular rug. A little basket next to the chair held a couple children’s books. There was yellow sticky-tack that had bled into the paper of the crayon-pictures that dressed the walls nearby the chair. 

“Did you...draw these?” 

“Mm-yeah, a long, long time ago...I know, I know, they’re super cringey.” 

“No, I think that they’re super cute.” 

“...thanks.” He blushed. 

“So was this like your playroom or something?” 

“Yeah, kinda like that.” 

“How come it’s so...empty?” 

Hyunjin looked out past you, to the windows on the opposite wall. The giant glass panels ran from floor to ceiling, and you could see nearly the whole sea-town from where his summer home was situated on a hill. The yellow glow of lights form other homes flowed down the hillside like a collection of fireflies. Further out, the crescent moon illuminated the ocean. 

From the light of the room contrasting with the evening’s darkness, the windows appeared mirror-like. 

Then, you knew. 

“Is this...where you would dance?” 

He nodded solemnly. 

“I think I figured out that I wanted to be a dancer here. I would look out there at night, and there was something deep down inside me that just knew. Before I even knew how to dance, I would sorta just, move around in here, listen to music. It’s kind of...embarrassing--” 

“--No! No, it’s not! I think, I think that it’s beautiful. Don’t feel embarrassed.” 

Hyunjin tangled his fingers among yours, “Can I dance for you?” 

“Yes. Of course.” You smoothed down a couple silvery strands. 

“Okay.” 

First, he tore off his cotton tee. 

“Woah there!!!” In your surprise, your eyes greedily ate him up as you stifled your laughter. “I thought you were dancing, not stripping.” 

Your boyfriend impatiently rolled his eyes at you. “It’s part of the dance.”  

“Ahhhhh.” 

“You’ll see.” 

He set to work finding the song on his phone, and you pretended to be heavily invested in your strawberry popsicle you had brought along. It was your own fault that you stung your teeth trying to take a bite, realizing that Hyunjin’s bare chest was just a little too distracting. 

He kicked off his slippers, saying, “This is the one I’ve been telling you about, the one that I’ve been choreographing for a while.” 

“M’kay!” You huddled down into the chair to fold up your body, now getting hotter by the second. Two more strawberry licks and you hoped to cool down. 

“It isn’t finished yet...so...” 

“Go ahead! I’m sure that it’ll be amazing.”

Hyunjin let out a determined little huff before inhaling deeply and flaring up every muscle on his sculpted chest. The music began to play, then his expression dropped to dead serious, just as it would every time he would start his movements. There was nothing but pristine focus in his brown eyes. 

It was nothing new to you, but every time that Hyunjin would dance for you, it was like you were seeing him do it for the first time. After all, his dancing was one of the things that made you fall in love with him in the first place. 

He had a way of turning himself into the music. It was like he was no longer human, but fluid water, leaves in the wind, snowflakes wafting in streetlights. The inhuman way that he would tense every muscle in his body to lift himself from the ground almost like a sparrow was utterly breathtaking. 

Hyunjin’s bare feet hit the floor with a thud as he spun himself around, and his sharp inhales met each beat. The song didn’t have any lyrics, but it was as if his body was filling the room with words; telling a story with his body. 

Two drips from your nearly uneaten popsicle waterfalled down your hand. Conversely, two drips of sweat fell down Hyunjin’s body where he finished his dance curled into a ball against the floor. The room was filled with silence and his shallow breaths. 

“Hyunjin...oh my god, that was...” 

“I know, it’s really rough, I’m still working out the middle part--” 

“--I-its unbelievable! I-I mean, you’re unbelievable!” 

“Really?” 

“Yes! Really.” You rose to attack his sweating body with the biggest hug you could manage with one hand holding your cold treat. “You always take my breath away when you do that.” 

“You liked it that much?”  

“Would I lie? God, I don’t have a clue how you do it.” 

“I just...practice.” 

You lead him over to the velvety chair. “Tell me about it. What does it mean?” 

“Well, I was thinking it’s about breaking through what makes you vulnerable and insecure, and trying to find yourself when you aren’t sure who you are. Did you...get that?” 

Truthfully, he had lost you a little bit. What was more preoccupying was how enraptured he looked reflecting on something so personal to him. 

“That’s so beautiful ‘Jin.” Your fingers framed his face with a subtle brush.

“Hm-thank you.” He nuzzled into your hand. 

The urge to be as close to him as possible to him was suffocating, so you let your body lead your actions before your mind did: straddling him where he sat to circle your arms around him tight. He let out a little surprised “oh!” but held you back just as tight. You needed nothing more than for him to hold you like that for just a little while. 

Two more red, syrupy drips, fell down your wrist. 

“Y/n?” 

“Hm?” 

“Can I please have you tonight? You can do whatever you want to me, I just...want you.” 

“Oh, Jinnie...” 

He knew all he had to do was say please. 

“I wanna be...close.” 

You granted him the taste of strawberry on your lips, filling his wanton mouth with your answer. Your thumb rubbed into his cheek, where you felt one of his tears wet your skin. 

“Why are you crying my love?” 

He sniffled, “Because I’m so happy.” he giggled quietly, “I never thought that I would share this place with someone that I care for so much.” 

You blinked back tears of your own. “I promise to take care of you always Hyunjin, and to always make you happy, ’kay?” 

His needy fingertips dug into our hips, and you involuntarily found yourself grinding into his lap. You both sniffled a little more, but found comfort back by the corners of each other’s mouths. 

“You-you can use me...however you want.” Hyunjin moaned prettily into your mouth. 

The heat from your clit became overwhelming as you rubbed into his growing hard-on. 

“Okay my love. I’ll do that.” 

The cold of your popsicle in your hand fed miraculous little ideas into your head. 

“Let’s take these pants off, alright?” Hyunjin nodded, hastily unbuttoning his linen pants. 

You took two fat licks up the red length of your freezing popsicle, not breaking contact with his eyes. Just to make him whine, you flicked your tongue over the tip of the sweet treat, just like you would do to him. You used your free hand to palm at his bulge, sucking in as deep as you could down your popsicle. 

“You want my mouth, pretty boy?” 

“Y-yes.” 

“Yes what?” 

“Yes please.” 

You let your hand trace down his gorgeously thick inner thigh to take your position between his legs, kneeling on the carpet. The tips of your fingers hooked under his waistband, tearing off his briefs. Nearly as pink as your stained tongue, his marvelously long dick twitched in his anticipation then shaky breaths quaked in his chest. With one hand, you tugged at his length rubbing his own pre-cum over his tip. 

“Fuck, you’re so cute.” 

Hyunjin’s biceps flared as he searched for something to grab onto to steady himself, settling one in your hair, and the other digging little crescents into the skin of his pearly thigh. You switched to give more attention to the popsicle, licking at it agonizingly slow all for him to watch. 

“You’d like it like this, wouldn’t you?” 

“Mmhm.” He whined with a little shake of his hips. “Please.” 

“Okay, you deserve it.” 

Streams of strawberry juice fell down your hand as you lent your mouth to his neglected cock, then you traced your freezing tongue up and down the skin. Hyunjin gasped in sharply, wincing a little from the sensation. A broken little “oh” reverberated in his chest. 

“Too cold?” 

“--No!” He interjected, “No, I-I love it, don’t...don’t stop.” 

At last you took in his full length, mixing the sweet taste of freezing fruit with the burning hot warmth of his veiny cock. Today, you’d let him hear you gag a little. As shy as he was, you still knew that his ego swelled by the hundreds hearing you choke on his dick. 

Your sugary drool fell down the side of his length as you let go, moving to return back to your mess of a popsicle in your hand. The loss of contact made Hyunjin whimper out helplessly. 

“Look at me,” You commanded, sucking in the popsicle several more times. By now, his eyes had entirely glazed over with his lust for you. It was that same look that he would get in his eyes when he danced. He was enthralled. 

“M-more?” He begged to you. 

You prowled over his hips, kissing the side of his dick as you let those red drops drip onto him, lapping at them after a few seconds. 

His entire body shivered viciously while he pitifully groaned into the room. 

Your devilish little laughs kissed into his inner thighs, where you bit into the skin. 

Your popsicle was then gone in seconds, then you ridded your hand from the sticky juice by providing them to your boyfriend who sucked at them greedily. After you felt as if your mouth had warmed enough for it to be tolerable, you kissed his tip, then resumed your work, bobbing up and down, just as you knew he liked it. 

“I’m gonna--mm--if you keep doing that.” Hyunjin threw his head back in his euphoria. 

“Let’s move this somewhere else then shouldn’t we?” 

✦✧✦✧   

There was nothing prettier than the way that your love bites would fade into Hyunjin’s skin after a while, fading from violet to lavender as they healed. You could still see a couple of them tracing his collarbones while your fingers tweaked at his angrily hard nipples. 

Little mewls from his mouth spilled into your dripping pussy riding his tongue. One pinch, two more pinches...and his hips buckled. He’d take one of his long arms to travel up your body and pinch at your own nipples and kneed your pretty breast in his hand. 

“fuck yes, fuck--your mouth feels so good baby.” 

His tongue flicked at your swollen clit, causing your whole body to jerk with each touch. He lent tender kisses into your folds, then would switch to fucking into your leaking entrance with his pointed tongue. 

“Go slower, slower...” 

You pleaded out your instructions, and he was always one to obey. With the combination of his tantalizing licks and the slow grind of your hips, he coaxed out your orgasm so naturally; he left your thighs shaking on both sides of his head. While you came down, Hyunjin would press careful little kisses into your twitching bud, just as you had taught him. 

“Your turn.” You huff out, then carefully shift to move off your boyfriend. 

“Please...I want you to touch me so bad, ‘hurts a little...” 

“Aw does it?” 

You kiss his lips wet with your slick. 

“I have a present for you though, before I get to that.” 

You can see how needy he is in his eyes, but he still puts on a thankful little smile for you. 

“Oh really? I’m sorry, I didn’t get you anything...” 

“It’s okay! I wanted to surprise you anyway. Besides, you’re a gift enough for me.” 

He snickers, “That was kinda cheesy.” 

“I thought that you liked when I was cheesy!?” 

“I do, I do.” 

You dip into your duffle to pull out the tiny cardboard box. 

“What’s this?” He sits up to take it from your hands. 

Inside he finds the dainty white lace choker, woven to have little flower-like shapes on the top edge, and tiny fake pearls beaded into the bottom edge like little dewdrops. 

“Oh my god.” 

“Do you like it? I thought that it would look really pretty on yo--” 

“--I love it. Thank you so much.” He plays with the clasp. “Do you...want me to wear it right now?” 

“I thought that you could--” 

“--Can you help me?” He beamed at you coyly, providing you with the clasps. 

“Um-sure.” You find yourself getting flustered over your fantasy of seeing him in that choker for weeks finally becoming a reality. 

Before you sweep it around his neck, you press one kiss into his neck. 

“There. You look gorgeous.” 

Hyunjin’s cheeks turn rosy at your compliment. 

“Hyunjin, you’re absolutely mesmerizing. I promise to never stop reminding you.” 

His lithe fingers tangle up in your messy hair, and you kiss him all over his chest, renewing some of the hickies that had faded away. The sensation tickles him, and his beautiful giggles are like music to your ears. Slowly, your fingers trickle down to his hips where you take up his half-hard cock back in your hand. He hums a little “mm” once you do so. 

“I’m going to make you all mine baby boy, wouldn’t you like me to fuck you until you don’t know anything else?” 

“Yes!!” 

Harder you jerk at his cock while you take in the sight of his fluttering eyelids and the way that the veins on his neck pulsate under the pretty white lace. 

“Use your words my love, what is you want?” 

“-Want you to fuck me, fuck me so good, please, take care of me...” 

Hyunjin’s hips thrash this way and that from your teasing provided by your thumb on his slit. 

“Close! I-I’m close--” He chokes out the words. 

“Already? You’re that pent up for me hmm?” 

“Wanna cum...” 

You coolly remove your hand. “Not yet darling.” 

His whining moan is just a little too bratty for you--it’s not like your Hyunjin to be like that for you. You decide to try another method. 

“Wait just a little longer for me okay my love. Let’s not get impatient.” 

“Bu-but--” 

“No buts.” 

Your hand snakes around his neck to press into his airway, and his eyes roll back sinfully as you do so. In your palm, you can feel the pearls press into his skin. With your other free hand you take back to flicking his nipples in your knuckles. He must not have been lying: the head of his cock is angrily flared. Your grip loosens at his neck, and he gasps out with his moans getting tangled in his inhales. 

“ M’sorry, I’ll be a good boy for you.” 

Hearing him reassure you makes your head spin, and you feel your clit ache out horribly for stimulation. You want him just as bad he wants you, and you’re almost ready for him to know it. 

“Come ‘ere, sit on the edge of the bed.” 

He follows you, and those pretty pearls shine in the dim glow of his bedroom. 

You fall down to permit him a couple wet stripes to his cock and he’s already a mess once more. Mutterings of words muddle his lips, but you can see that he’s holding them back for you, trying not to pressure you or whine any more. 

“You are being a very good boy Jinnie, let’s give you what you want how hmm?” 

His eyes blow out with his realization then he eagerly watches as you mount his lap facing him, lowering your entrance over his dick, falling down bit...by bit. Your knees are planted on both sides of his legs, supported by the bed and his arms holding you nearer. 

There’s nothing that Hyunjin loves more than feeling how tight you are around his cock, it nearly turns his whole body into jelly with the first contact. For a couple moments, you simply exist connected in this way, letting the sense of intimacy consume your entire beings. 

“I love you Hyunjin.” You start to bounce, and it takes all of his will to say the words back to you. 

His arms fall back to prop himself up, and Hyunjin lets you bounce up and down on him as hard or as fast or slow as you like, taking his dick to pleasure yourself in any way that you see fit. It’s when you graze your g-spot the deepest that both of your bodies fold together, trying to maintain your upright position. Hyunjin’s arms start to shake and you push his chest back, and his body bounces a little on the mattress from your force. You pay no mind, spreading out your hands flat on his chest to ride him with every bit of energy that you have left. 

“oh god, oh god, shit-” He tries his best to hide his curses from you. 

You can’t help but obsess over his angelic form under you, topped with the beautiful choker that makes him look nearly fairy-like. The sense of possession that you soak up from his moans all for you drives your orgasm right up through your body, tearing through every nerve you think you must have. 

Hyunjin clenches his teeth, hissing air through with his eyebrows crossed tightly. 

“Cum for me baby, you can cum for me now my love.” 

Hyunjin’s neck flares against his choker with his spewing of nonsense words and erotic moans while he cums inside you, both of you throbbing against the other. 

He laughs a little, chest rosy and rising and falling for vital breaths to calm himself. 

“Are you okay?” 

He nods with that adorable little smile you love, “Mmhm.” 

“You want to say like this for a second?” 

“...Please?” 

“Okay. I need to catch my breath too.” 

You press your body flush against Hyunjin’s chest letting him hold your sweating bodies together. Every few seconds or so, one of you would shake with little aftershocks from your orgasms. 

“Did I do okay?” Hyunjin asks you after some time. 

“Of course. You don’t even have to ask, sweetheart” You give one last kiss on his forehead messy with stringy silver tufts. 

“Okay...

...I promise to always be good for you.” 

[aftgficrec]

Dragon/Magical/mythical AU pretty please 🥺

There are just so many aus with magic, mythical creatures and fantasy out there! We’ve put a small collection together here, and you can find more in our previous recs as well as under our fantasy tag (see below). The fantasy tag is under AUs. - S

Also see...

supernatural compilation here (see top of post for further recs)

fantasy aus (with dragons!) here

HTTYD/Dragon!Andrew aus here

new/fave fantasy fics here

fave fantasy fics here

Neil as a fantasy creature here

andreil shapeshifters/soulmates/omegaverse here

long fae/magic aus here

magic/urban fantasy aus here

Neil with wings and lots of magic here

werewolf!Andrew here

fairy tale aus here

staff recs may 21 - mermay here

Greek mythology aus here

‘Spun Like Gold’ here

‘On Dragon's Wings (Under the Blue)’ here

‘Imp’ here

Of Smoke & Bone by wishbonetea [Rated M, 23905 words, incomplete, last updated Sept 21]

In general, Neil Josten managed to keep his two lives in balance. On the one hand, he was a nineteen year old art student in Prague with a part-time job in a mostly-normal coffee shop. On the other, he, Allison, and Renee worked for an inhuman creature, running errands in exchange for wishes. For the most part, these two lives rarely intersect. But it's fair to say that the Foxes bring their own brand of trouble, and Neil's two lives soon start to collide.

tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: recreational drug use

little ghost by redskiesandsailboats [Rated G, 5224 words, complete, 2021]

Everything comes with a price.

He should have known.

All of them should have.

But that’s the thing about hope.

Sometimes, if you let it grow past a spark, it’s so bright that it’s blinding.

Or: the one in which there is a quest with dubious guidelines, a ghost with an aversion to names, and a hero who never asked for any of this, but he keeps his promises anyways.

tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: implied/referenced murder

Our Liminal Souls by glowingbee [Rated E, 27352 words, incomplete, last updated July 21]

Neil Josten doesn't believe in Gods, ghosts, nor destiny. If there is anything he has come to believe from years of out running certain death is that, firstly, not even a perfect utopia can protect everyone and second that everyone dies alone. A born wizard with a need for adrenaline, Neil knows he can only protect himself by learning combat, languages, and magic by participating in academic tournaments that are intense physical, magical, and psychological tests that honor their lineages of magic and otherworldly-given powers.

A lapse in Neil's plans securing his passage to his next hideaway has him dumped onto the world-stage of collegiate magic tournaments after being contracted to a high-profile A1 tournament court shadowed by recent suspicious deaths and a secretive court. Neil runs the risk of his secrets finding him before he can even begin to make sense of his invisible ties to his new teammates' own pasts and deciphering strange dreams that haunt him of mother's last moments.

tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: blood

From The Ashes by tigerrlilyy [Not Rated, 4482 words, incomplete, last updated May 21]

After spending his entire life on the run, the death of Neil's mother throws him into a world where he's being hunted by dragons and a lot of people are wanting to see his blood spilled.

That is until he's whisked away to a special school for people just like him where he meets the beautiful asshole Andrew Minyard who seems to have a burning hatred for his existence the minute he steps foot in the school.

To top it all off? Andrew's a dragon. A dragon who wants him dead.

tw: violence, tw: minor character death, tw: blood, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced child abuse

Fang and Stake by darkbluebox [Rated T, 2658 words, complete, 2020]

For most hunters, it would have been a wet dream: his quarry beaten, bleeding, trapped and prone before him. He might as well have been holding a stake on a silver platter. If it had been any other vampire in the world, Andrew wouldn’t have hesitated to drive the splintering chunk of wood through his chest and be done with it.

Unfortunately, Neil wasn’t any other vampire.

tw: blood, tw: implied/referenced abuse

you hit me like a vision by paleromantic [Rated G, 2181 words, complete, 2019]

Andrew opened his mouth, closed it again. “Uh, who the fuck are you?”

The man blinked, and underneath him in the water Andrew swore that he saw something moving, a quick swish under the water every once in a while. He had auburn hair like red that had cooled in the pale spring sunshine to a duller brown, and when the sun caught it it turned to copper. “You can call me Neil if you’d like, I live around here.”

BITE by poetatertot [Rated M, 23338 words, incomplete, last updated Sept. 2019]

Nathaniel was terrified. A hulking mass, all bristling fur and slavering jaws, stood and stared back at him. It was greater than any man—greater than any raven-shifter he’d ever seen. It was massive.

“Fox,” he breathed.

tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced abuse

A Midsummer Night's Fib by NachtGraves [Rated G, 3620 words, complete, Andreil Week 2018]

Neil doesn’t know why he did it but Nicky wasn’t going to quit and Allison had her phone out with that plotting gleam in her eyes and Dan and Matt were looking at him in certain ways and he just blurt it out: “I’m going with Andrew.”

Ouroboros by ANEMONEXVI [Rated M, 34420 words, incomplete, last updated Nov 2018]

“I don’t have any desire to be part of a group of rebels who aid townspeople and give warmongering nations the metaphorical finger,” Neil stoked his words with distain, hoping to discourage the group into the short version of the conversation he knew they were trying to have.

...

With no time to grieve the violent death of his mother, Neil finds himself alone in an unforgiving land with a heavy target on his back. In his aimlessness he encounters a group of roguish crusaders, The Foxes. A team of misfits who attempt to work together to bring peace to nations or peoples in crisis. And they want to recruit Neil for his rumored illusory magic.

But Neil's magical lineage doesn't speak of subtlety and he can't afford to catch any unwanted attention.

A roughshod fantasy/magic/government intrigue/familial drama/torture/mental and physical healing/aliens/ saga

tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: cannibalism, tw: blood/gore

what light tastes like by knoxxed (badmatch) [Rated T, 6516 words, complete, Aftg Exchange 2017]

Los Angeles is Jeremy Knox’s frown of concern whenever Jean pushes himself to the point of strain, the delighted grin when Jean surprises him. It’s cat fur being one more reason to stop wearing black.

Los Angeles is Jean never once being asked to confirm or deny who or what he is.

Los Angeles takes some getting used to.

(urban fantasy AU)

A Natural History of Dragons JereJean AU by @rhododendronbeware [tumblr, 2020]

- Jean Moreau only ever wanted to study dragons but instead he gets married off to Riko Moriyama to pay off his family’s debt.

Art

Demon Neil by EstaVS on deviantart

winged neil by @mistykaru [tumblr, 2021]

demon andrew by @mistykaru [tumblr, 2021]

[dulce-pjm]

cheek to cheek

request for taehyung from @kidcoredreamz (thanks bae!!) 

listen to “cheek to cheek” by ella fitzgerald and louis armstrong and “i get along without you very well” by chet baker for maximum effect

make your own request here using these prompts!

cheek to cheek

word count: 3.1k

genre: fluff, arrangedmarriage!au

summary: it’s night like these that you wish things were different

Taehyung is guaranteed, always has been. 

From the minute your tiny fingers could interlock with his, you were dragging each other around the mansions and garden parties, sneaking off to corners with desserts and chocolate milk and getting sugar rushes together. Time with Taehyung comes easy and passes quickly, the hours with him condensing into minutes and the few minutes without him stretching into lonesome years. 

You’ve seen him through thick and thin. Through acne flare ups and awkward conversations and never-ending games of tag. You’ve seen him pick his nose, cry over spilled milk (or, in his case, a broken remote-control race car), get caught sneaking out. You’ve comforted him while he felt broken, laughed until your sides were aching. You know his ins and outs, his rough edges and corners, his soft spots he tries to hide. 

Marrying him should be a blessing. 

To spend the rest of your life with the person who’s stuck by your side throughout everything is a future some can only dream about. To have someone understand you so perfectly, to understand them like no one else will. It should be a blessing. 

It should be. 

The digital clock reads 11:57 when he knocks on the window. 

You’ve always had a weird thing about having a room on the ground floor, when possible. It’s closest to the front door, in case of an emergency. And there’s no risk of tripping downstairs when you’re sleepily moving around in the night. And, most importantly, it’s easy to sneak out when you need to. 

While you’re a little startled, you’re nothing close to afraid. You know exactly what face to expect as you throw open the sheer curtains, silken pajama sleeves hanging over your fingers and eyes swollen from sleep. 

The moonlight makes his silvery hair seem otherworldly, a soft glow coming off of his locks. A few months ago, you’d been more than opposed to his sudden need to dye his hair, but you really shouldn’t have been surprised. The odd color just makes him more ethereal. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” you hiss, opening the bay window and letting the frigid air slam you in the face. Your eyes comb over the rest of his figure, your brows furrowing at his dark hoodie and sweats, a black hoodie crumpled in one of his hands. Anyone else would have assumed he was an intruder. 

“Visiting my fiancée?” he tries, flashing a lopsided grin. “Thought we could sneak out again. For old times’ sake.” 

“We’re not kids anymore, Tae,” you huff. 

“That doesn’t mean we have to be boring.” 

You cross your arms as a chill runs down your spine from the cool breeze. “It’s midnight. I’m in my pajamas.”

“Well, then you better change.” You stare at him indignantly for a moment, wondering just how much of a doormat he thinks you are. 

“Please?” he adds, batting his lashes teasingly. “I have a surprise. You’ll like it, promise.”

“But will I like it more than I’d like crawling back into bed? Can’t it wait until morning?”

“No. Let’s be a little spontaneous, like we used to be.”

You won’t lie. The soft duvet, still warm, is calling to you strongly. You know that as soon as your head hit the pillow again, you’d be out. Sleeping like a baby. 

But it’s Taehyung’s half-assed pout and an unfortunately strong curiosity that compels you to slip on the nearest t-shirt and sweats for the designated “not-dirty-enough-for-the-basket-yet” chair and climb out the window with a sigh. 

-- 

“It’s Dad’s latest passion project. It was my suggestion, but I think he’s enjoying it more than me.”

You’re enjoying yourself more than you’d like to admit, too. You aren’t sure what urged Taehyung or his wealthy, CEO father to pour their time and effort into a run down museum, but you sure are glad they did. It’s like walking through a ghost town, dust coating the walls and old exhibits. Only some of the lights work and there’s renovation supplies littering the floors. You and Taehyung stick to each other’s sides in the poorly lit areas to avoid tripping and meeting a sorry end via paint roller. 

This certainly isn’t the first time you’ve been out late with Taehyung. When you were in high school and determined to rebel against your parents’ constricting ways, the two of you often found yourselves roaming the city and laughing much too loudly during a time when you should have been catching up on sleep or homework. 

Being with Taehyung was never too much of a risk. His parents always fell victim to your innocent smiles and mumbled apologies, while yours believed Taehyung could do no wrong. After they yelled and scolded and nearly tore their hair out, soon they were only shaking their heads and smiling at each other knowingly. It was hard to be mad for long when things were really working even better than planned. 

“What do you think it means?” Taehyung asks as the two of you stare at the large mural. It’s filled with wide strokes of color, abstract shapes littering the foreground with seemingly no pattern or reason. You really can’t even see the whole thing, when Taehyung turned on the lights for this room, only two or three managed to flicker on. 

You tap your chin, deep in thought. “Well, the red is clearly...” You tilt your head. “It’s clearly having a battle with the yellow. They represent good and evil. And the purple in the back is hope.” Taehyung tilts his head in the same direction as yours, brows knit in concentration. 

“You really got all that from... that?” You snort. 

“Nah, I just bullshitted it. I have no idea what it means.” Taehyung giggles, shoving you in the side. You stumble, yelping dramatically and nearly crashing into a probably very expensive bust of some historical figure you wouldn’t recognize. 

“I was being serious, Y/N.” You laugh at his pouty expression, resisting the urge to poke him in the side in revenge. You don’t want to start a fight you know you can’t win. 

After trying to make sense of the abstract mural for a few moments, you move out of the art exhibits on to the historical section, looking at the old skeletons and fossils and relics from years and years ago. 

It’s fun trying to guess the names of the different dinosaur skeletons, cackling obnoxiously at all the ridiculous things you can combine with “—asaurus.” You take turns reading the puns scattered on the colorful signs throughout the exhibit, groaning at the bad ones and acknowledging the okay ones with a tiny chuckle. You laugh the hardest when Taehyung spots the fake alligators and climbs onto the display, insisting you take his picture so he can look cool. 

“Tae, you can clearly tell you’re inside!” He scoffs. 

“Just take the picture!” he insists. “Don’t I look like Steve Irwin?”

The photos all come out insanely blurry, your arms shaking too much as you try to hold in your giggles. 

When you were first told of the arrangement at age sixteen, you cried. You sobbed and you wailed and you screamed and you locked yourself in your room in protest for an entire day. Your parents couldn’t understand it. You loved Taehyung. More than your own family. More than anything else. They loved him too. He was the son of a close friend and a union would benefit business, certainly. 

When you eventually came out of your bedroom, you refused to talk about it. You only mumbled that you were sorry and your parents knew better than to ask questions and so, that was the end of it. 

“Taehyung!” you shout, grabbing his wrist and dragging him across the antiques exhibit. You’d both already tried (and failed) at using the dusty typewriter and moved on to playfully arguing about who should pose with the guillotine when your eyes locked onto an item across the room. 

“What is it?” he laughed, stumbling after you, all smiles. 

“It’s a phonograph,” you explain. It appears in near-perfect condition despite the circumstances, the brass horn shiny and golden like it’d been made yesterday. “You can play records on it.” 

He nods in understanding. “We should try it.” The idea is tempting, but your hopes for it working are fairly low. “There’s already a record on it, just try to get it to play.”

You lean forward, fingers mentally crossed as you fiddling with the needle and try winding the crank. The gears squeak terribly inside the main compartment, making you cringe. But you keep winding it, stepping back and squeezing your eyes tight in anticipation. 

When you’re met with silence instead of music, you sigh in defeat. “Well, I guess that’s alright, it’s pretty old anyway, let’s—”

Suddenly, the machine fizzles to life, record slowly turning on the turntable and a jazzy tune carries through the air. Taehyung cheers, clapping on the shoulder. 

“You did it!” Your smile quickly stretches into your cheeks, exhaustion long forgotten as you relax in the nice sound, soft piano and pleasant singing filling your ears. 

You begin subconsciously swaying to song, fingers drumming to the beat absentmindedly on your thighs. Taehyung seems to know the song, quietly singing a few lyrics every one and a while. 

“Let’s dance,” he says suddenly. Your stomach tightens. 

“Let’s not,” you reply quickly, arms hugging your sides. You stare ahead, trying to focus on the song rather than the person beside you. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him lean slightly closer, lolling his head to the side. 

“Why not?” 

You sigh. You don’t really have an answer. 

Your hand finds his, fingers interlocking as you let Taehyung guide you out into a relatively clearly spot, tennis-shoe clad feet shuffling lightly to the music. You’ve danced with him in other settings, with many more eyes watching. You’re normally dressed perfectly, not a hair out of place and a thick layer of makeup coating your eyes and cheeks. 

“Remember that time your mom made us take dance lessons when we were twelve?” Taehyung asks, a glint in his eye. 

You scoff. “I remember the part where you gave me laxatives right before the first lesson, yeah.” Taehyung can barely keep his grip on you, moving his other hand to your waist in an attempt to steady himself as his shoulders shake with laughter. 

“I really thought it was regular tea, I promise.”

“Sure you did.”

“I did! I thought we were being all fancy like our parents and drinking fancy tea like fancy rich people.”

“Then why didn’t you drink the laxative tea, huh?”

“I don’t like tea. I just put milk in my teacup and hoped you wouldn’t notice.” You snort, hands settled all to comfortably on his shoulders as the smooth voice croons and echoes off of the walls. 

It’s intimate. There’s nowhere else to look but his eyes as he places a hand on your waist, pulling you closer with a soft smile. The room feels warmer, his breath barely skimming across your face at the close proximity. 

It forces you to think about the things you’d much rather keep inside. 

This should be nice. It should be normal and romantic and sweet, to be slow-dancing with your fiancée. Your smile should be light and endeared and love-struck, not forced and fake. 

There’s a heavy pang in your heart as you remember. Remember how much love him. How much you care. How much you want to hold him close, press your lips on his without a single bit of hesitance. 

But you can’t do those things, knowing the things you do. To Taehyung, this marriage is a convenience. It’s a way to please his parents and strengthen his business connections and do it all with his best friend. He’s always been perfectly content with the arrangement, perfectly content to marry for everything but love. 

And how are you supposed to feel, wanting to marry him for the very thing he doesn’t feel for you?

He’s all you’ve ever wanted. You would have left this life a long time ago, but it would mean sacrificing him. You’re too selfish to do that. You want him all to yourself, every part that you can get. 

You’ve seen every side of him, the weird and the sad and sweet. You want it all. But you’ll never have it. 

You wish it were real. That this were a romantic night away, that you’d wake up in the morning all tangled in his arms. It’s this intimacy that you crave but can never enjoy, not when you know it’s all fake.

And he knows you too. Knows something is up when that little knot between your brows forms and your eyes grow just a little glassy.

“What’s wrong?” You quickly straighten your spine, blinking away any tears pricking at your eyes. 

“Nothing, I’m fine.” But Taehyung knows. He leans forward slightly, dark eyes piercing through your very soul. You gulp as you feel his body heat on your own skin, releasing your hands from his shoulders in your panic. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No,” you breathe. Your gaze falls as you step back, the music tapering off as the phonograph finally gives out and the moment is fully broken.

But instead of letting you slip away, his grip tightens, look growing desperate.

“Wait! Just a second.” You can see him itch to run his hand through his hair, but his arms don’t leave you. “You’ve been acting so weird lately. Is it me? Did I do something wrong?” You furiously shake your head. 

“No, that’s not it. I just—” You stop yourself before too many words spill out and you say something you can’t take back.

When you don’t elaborate, Taehyung’s face falls further. “Seriously, what is it? Am I really making you that upset?”

“No, I—”

“Is it because I dragged you out so late? I’m sorry, it’d just been so long since I saw you and I missed you—”

“Just shut up!” you cry, shoving him off of you for good. A few tears wet your cheeks and your face heats with embarrassment. “It’s because you pull this kind of stupid, romantic shit that makes me love you even more than I already do but I know you don’t see us that way.”

Taehyung’s eyes go wide, but you suppose since it’s all on the table, you’ll keep going. “I know this is all just fun and games and easy to you but it fucking hurts, Taehyung. You can’t lead people on like this. You can’t do this shit and expect me not to feel something for you.”

The phonograph crackles in the corner of the room, unable to play pretty tunes or sweet songs anymore. It sounds restless and broken and unpleasant to hear. 

“Maybe I wanted you to feel something for me.” You whip your head up, cheeks still hot from mortification and anger. 

“What?”

“You heard me. I wanted you to love me. Because I love you.” 

When you kiss him, it’s like a breath of fresh air. It’s hungry and rushed as your fingers gently tug on his hair and his palm is splayed on the small of your back, pulling you as close to him as humanly possible. 

At some point, you end up pressed against the wall, euphoric as he trails pecks down your jaw and neck incessantly, like he’s trying to make up for every time he wished he’d kissed you. You whine when he parts his lips, tugging on his hair as he fastens your body against him. He tastes like the peppermint chapstick he always keeps in his pocket. The habit had ruined a pair of his dress pants before when it melted all in the pocket, but he’s always been too stubborn about chapped lips to learn his lesson and carry it elsewhere. You can smell his shampoo and the faint scent of his cologne. Everything that fills your senses is him and only him. 

You feel a few tears sting at the corner of your eyes but you ignore them, gasping for breath between long kisses, a few giggles escaping you when you see you’re not the only one lightheaded. 

After what feels both like hours and seconds, Taehyung pulls away, his lips swollen and pink, but stretched into that adorable grin that hasn’t changed since you were kids. 

“Sorry I didn’t say something earlier,” he murmurs. “I never could find the right words to say it and I knew it’d make everything awkward if you didn’t feel the same way.” You laugh mirthlessly, cupping his face gently with your hands. 

“Same here.” You sigh. “Guess we’re both idiots.”

“Guess so.” 

It's a little frightening to stare at him like this. You’ve always held your guard tightly whenever you felt even close to your feelings being compromised, but that weight you’d carried for so long as suddenly detached itself from your shoulders, leaving you free floating. Yes, it’s like floating untethered through the air or being caught in the ocean with your life jacket. It’s scary and daunting and unknown. But it’s nice to know that you’ll have Taehyung’s hand tightly holding yours the whole way. 

“Since I confessed first, I think you should pose for a picture with the guillotine.” Taehyung’s intent stare breaks, his face crinkling in disgust. 

“But I kissed you first.”

“Only because I said I loved you.”

“If you really loved me, you’d pose with the guillotine and I could pose like I’m the executioner.” Now it’s your turn to be disgusted. 

“That’s so fucking morbid, Kim Taehyung.” You smack his arm, but he keeps you against the wall, thigh between your legs as he leans in again. 

“Only for you,” he murmurs, planting his lips on yours again. 

The scoff about to leave your mouth is caught in your throat as you’re enveloped in his embrace, kissing each other dizzy until you’re certain the sun must be rising soon. 

You wouldn’t mind too much if it did, though. 

As Taehyung keeps trying to convince you to take stupid photos and explain abstract art to him, you aren’t sure how much a blessing he is. All you really know is that he’s your guarantee, your anchor in this unforgiving world. You aren’t sure where he’ll take you next, what random time he’ll decide is the best for your future adventures. You can’t know what the rest of your life holds, only that he’ll be next to you as long as he can. 

And that’s enough for now.

[sankyeom]

+.*☆ the boyz masterlist ☆*.+

special series

➪ an au a day (2k celebration au series) [ongoing]     ⤷ the boyz x reader  summary: a collection of 11 AUs, one for each active member of the boyz, to celebrate reaching 2k followers!! ➞ 2k celebration masterlist

multiple members

juyeon / changmin

➪ idolised (social media au) [completed]     ⤷ idol!reader x idol!juyeon/idol!changmin (idol au, love triangle) summary: in which you collaborate with the boyz in an effort to stop your company from disbanding your group ➞ series masterlist

sangyeon

➪ [07:22pm] (635 words)     ⤷ i missed you (exes to lovers, idol!sangyeon)

➪ tattle-tale (5.9k words)     ⤷ teacher au summary: in which teacher!sangyeon has a crush on teacher!you and anonymously leaves little gifts for you on your desk, only to one day be caught by your entire class ➞ from my 2k followers celebration ‘an au a day’ series

jacob

➪ letters (3.9k words)     ⤷ college au summary: in which jacob accidentally gives you a love letter meant for someone else

➪ lullaby (5.4k words)   ⤷ neighbour au summary: in which your new neighbour sings you to sleep every night since the walls in your building are so thin, and you fall in love with his voice ➞ from my 2k followers celebration ‘an au a day’ series

➪ and they were roommates! (social media au) [completed]     ⤷ introvert!jacob bae x female extrovert!reader (roommates to lovers, college au) summary: in which you desperately need a new roommate to cover your rent and your best friend kevin takes matters into his own hands, offering your place to his childhood friend jacob when he moves to town ➞ series masterlist

➪ [10:03pm] (361 words)    ⤷ you’re cute (strangers to lovers, college au)

younghoon

➪ [03:48pm] (186 words)     ⤷ coffee runs (established relationship, barista au)

➪ the c in ceo stands for cute (7.2k words)     ⤷ ceo au summary: in which your handsome boss is often mistaken as cold due to his good looks and forward personality, but is actually the sweetest introvert you’ve ever met ➞ from my 2k followers celebration ‘an au a day’ series

➪ crazy rich evasions (social media au) [completed]     ⤷ rich kid!kim younghoon x female rich kid!reader (enemies to lovers, rich kids au, arranged marriage au) summary: in which your family arranges an engagement between you and your childhood nemesis kim younghoon, and the two of you swear to make the other break it off, no matter how many crazy schemes it takes. ➞ series masterlist

hyunjae

➪ [04:42pm] (264 words)    ⤷ cute wallpaper (online classes, college au)

➪ let’s play pretend (6.6k words)    ⤷ fake dating au summary: in which your sister’s wedding is right around the corner, and you don’t want to spend the day telling your relatives that your boyfriend cheated on you, so you ask hyunjae to accompany you ➞ from my 2k followers celebration ‘an au a day’ series

juyeon

➪ [11:14pm] (528 words)     ⤷ i spy with my little eye (spy au)

➪ i spy with my little eye (8.3k words)     ⤷ spy au summary: in which the company you work for is the main rival of juyeon’s company, and you’re known for always being one step ahead of him; even when it comes to realising his feelings for you (based on this timestamp by the same name) ➞ from my 2k followers celebration ‘an au a day’ series

➪ splash! (5.1k words)     ⤷ lifeguard au, summer love summary: in which you fall in love with the lifeguard at the hotel pool during your summer vacation and don’t want to have to say goodbye

kevin

➪ [02:42am] (266 words)     ⤷ phone call confessions (best friends to lovers)

➪ picture perfect (8.5k words)     ⤷ art student au summary: in which you find a sketchbook filled with drawings of you, and go on a mission to find the owner ➞ from my 2k followers celebration ‘an au a day’ series

new

➪ [08:02pm] (267 words)    ⤷ a date with destiny (blind date with a twist)

q

➪ [11:33pm] (458 words)     ⤷ horror-fying (established relationship, you hate horror films but you’re dating ji changmin so you deal lol)

➪ fortunes and misfortunes teaser (883 word teaser!)    ⤷ the boyz royal au series summary: in which you are required to find a royal suitor to finally be crowned queen of your kingdom, but find yourself falling in love with a nobleman – who may be titled, but is no royal – instead ➞ from my royal tbz series coming soon!

ju haknyeon

➪ [11:59pm] (349 words)     ⤷ my type (best friends to lovers)

sunwoo

➪ break your rules (social media au) [completed]     ⤷ brother’s best friend!sunwoo x reader (enemies to lovers, college au) summary: in which nobody knows why you don’t get along with your brother’s best friend sunwoo. or, alternately: you and sunwoo spend the night together and have to hide it from your brother eric. ➞ series masterlist

➪ [03:09pm] (382 words)   ⤷ completely clueless (best friends, sunwoo is a fool)

➪ pose (3.6k words)    ⤷ model au, enemies to lovers summary: in which you are forced to work with sunwoo, your attractive sworn enemy who never fails to get on your nerves, in order to shoot your dream magazine cover

eric

➪ [05:58pm] (606 words)     ⤷ first date (first date au lol that’s obvious by the title)

➪ batter up! (6.1k words)     ⤷ baseball player!eric sohn x reader summary: in which you are assigned to interview the unapproachable baseball team ace eric sohn, and things end up going sideways.

➪ make or break (social media au) [completed]    ⤷ [sequel to break your rules, can be read alone]    ⤷ ex boyfriend!eric x ex girlfriend!reader summary: in which you transfer to your ex boyfriend’s university and you find it hard not to fall for him all over again. (loosely based on the song make or break by the boyz) ➞ series masterlist

➪ do you believe in angels? (8.1k words)     ⤷ part of the otherworldly collab     ⤷ guardian angel!eric sohn x reader summary: in which your guardian angel eric accidentally reveals himself to you, and you get to know heaven’s secrets while teaching him about humans.

➪ kiss me if you can (4.8k words)    ⤷ eric sohn x female reader summary: in which you’ve given most of your friends a tipsy kiss except for eric, who has a massive crush on you that you’ve never noticed. when he points out this injustice, you’re happy to offer him a kiss too.

[sweetsubharry]

hey ! sorry to bother you but could you reccomend me some fics of footballer louis?? thank you !! love your acc

Hiya!!  💖you can never bother me!! ^-^ ohmgosh I’m so glad you like my blog! I love footballer louis djskasdhjag tysm(sorry it took soooo long!)

please make sure you read the tags and stay safe everyone!💖

Also these are not in any particular order, however I will say the first two are probably my favourites ;) I have to read them again right after this!

freeze this moment in a frame and stay like this by rosesau

Harry (not so) secretly crushes on the cute footie player and fills pages with sketches of him.

Don't Stop Thinking About Tomorrow by 1Diamondinthesun

Harry spends most of his time in an empty house or a lonely darkroom, dreaming of leaving his small town for art school. He's invisible to most people. And then Louis Tomlinson sees him. Life will never be the same.

Or, the American high school AU loosely inspired by She's All That.

Definition of Beauty by zanni_scaramouche

“Your book is upside down.” Harry nods at Louis’ book, his history text now that he sees it too.

“I’d rather study you.”

They both blink, startled by the slip.

“With you. Study with you,” Louis rushes to say. “Liam says I’m shite at history, can you help?”

Louis’ caught off guard by an omega he nearly takes out with an errant footie ball. It’s not that Louis’ never seen Harry before, it’s that he can’t stop looking, and he’s desperate to figure him out.

Coffee Cups and Football Boots by kimtaedumb

Harry’s stood behind the counter again, but this time he’s painting his nails. Louis strolls up to the counter and, thanks to his no brain-to-mouth filter, blurts out, “Isn’t that a little girlish, Haz?” leaning closer to inspect.

Harry lets out a little huff as his hand slips, “Oh, damn, now I’ve messed it up,” he pouts and turns to Louis, “Why should making myself feel pretty be girly?”

Louis holds up his hands in surrender, “’M not judging, jus’ curious is all.”

(The entirely cheesy and cliché Christmas AU, in which Harry doesn’t give a damn what people think about him – mostly – and Louis may be a little bit in love.

Alternatively, the one in which Harry owns a café that’s barely scraping by and Louis is a footballer and he takes Harry away for Christmas.

Featuring Zayn as a cocky little shit that most definitely needs to be put back in his place, Niall as the loveable Irish dude who drinks too much and flirts with Zayn more than the average girl, and Liam who loves everyone but hates them all at the same time.)

Way in the World by flowsque

When Louis Tomlinson enters the waiting room, Harry can distinctly feel his heart sinking to his stomach. The man's hair is ruffled and dishevelled and his red jersey, damp with sweat from training, clings to his perfect and chiseled body. He stands there, almost unreal, against the glass door, peering inside the office. Harry knew this would’ve happened, sooner or later. That he would have bumped into him. They play for the same club after all, even if they’re in different leagues. It’s not weird. It is not. Except it totally is. - Or, the one where Harry has a knee injury and an embarrassing crush on Manchester United's pretty number ten.

I Long For You by AnotherAnonymousWriter

Thirty minutes later, he's sat on a bench in Hyde Park with a book in his lap and a travel mug with hot tea in his hand. Not far from where he's sat, a group of boys are playing football and a bunch of children are chasing each other. Life is good.

Or at least, life is good until he hears a familiar “LOOK OUT!” and sees a football flying in the direction of his face.

And then everything is black.

(Harry gets hit in the head by various objects and falls for a boy with blue eyes.)

ease the quiet and talk me down by cabinbythesea

Harry's a model and Louis' a footie player.

(Louis teaches Harry some football and Harry is insanely good at giving a lapdance).

Baby, It's You by Bearandleonardwrite

"Oh, yeah. Um..” Harry lets his hands fall to his sides. His brows furrow, face full of concern, and he asks, “You’re not, like, stalking me, are you?”

Louis can’t help the loud cackle that escapes his lips and immediately slaps one of his hands over his mouth to muffle the sound. “Oh my god, Harry, no!” Louis tells him, a little breathlessly, giggles still bubbling out of his chest. “Lottie’s one of the makeup artists here today and she somehow got me to agree to come. I had no idea you modeled for, uh.. this brand until I saw you walk.”

“Oh,” Harry says dumbly, eyebrows still pinched. He lets what Louis just said sink in before a bright grin takes over his face and he goes back to doing up the buttons on his shirt. “Well, that’s alright, then. I’m glad you could make it.

(Basically, Louis' a footie player for Man U and Harry's a YSL model. They meet at a masquerade.)

Touch by kotabear24

Harry's shy and virginal with a past, new on the football team; Louis' the (experienced) popular star of the team and Harry's new mentor.

Come In and Change My Life by lightswoodmagic (sarah_writes)

He’d had the same neighbours since he’d moved into the building, a lovely, wealthy couple in their late sixties who had always invited him around for tea on Sundays. Martha had dropped off homemade biscuits the day he’d moved in, so Harry figured he may as well repeat the sentiment. He could hear someone getting closer to the door just as a flush ran through his body; oh fuck. His heat was close, too close to be knocking on a potentially unknown alpha’s door, but it was too late. The door swung open, and Harry’s mouth dropped. He’d never been overly interested in football, couldn’t find the fascination in watching men run around after a ball for hours aside from their uniforms, but he knew who this was. Louis Tomlinson, alpha, captain of Manchester United, star in a number of Harry’s heat addled fantasies, was his new next-door neighbour.

Or, Harry and Louis become friends when Harry looks after Louis' cat during away games, until one night at a party changes everything between them. It's just a shame Louis' going to be away for the FIFA World Cup for three months.

see the truth (it's me for you) by orphan_account

If you asked Louis the first day of his French Literature class what he’d be doing on the last, he’d probably never have guessed it would involve helping a poorly Harry Styles study for the final exam. Good thing he’s not a betting man.

(Or the one where Louis and Harry spend an entire semester ignoring each other after a one-night stand, only to come face to face when Harry manages to catch the stomach flu during finals week. Sometimes fate is funny like that.)

Use Your Words by zedi

based off this prompt: collage au where jock!harry always serenades flowercrown!louis with love songs in their music class. what nobody knows is that harry actually kinda means the words he sings.

But instead it's Louis as the jock and Harry as the flowerchild because I do what I want.

Stop The World (I Wanna Get Off With You) by ilikepianos

"You like this, don't you?", he asks breathlessly.

What? Sucking cock? Being dominated? Yes, all of that. A big fat yes.

Harry nods, lips still wrapped around Louis' throbbing dick.

Louis' lips curl into a smirk. "Keep going then. You're doing amazing, love."

OR: The uni-football AU where Harry may or may not have a minor crush on the captain of the team and suddenly discovers that the feeling is very much mutual.

Picture Perfect by LittleBubbleStyles

an AU where Louis Tomlinson is a misunderstood football player, and Harry Styles is a misunderstood photographer. Somehow, they're understood together.

I just think about my baby; I'm so full of love I could barely eat by mercutionotromeo

Harry and Louis are six hundred miles apart, but they have the same solutions to the same problem.

Or: a masturbation drabble featuring pillow humping, locker rooms, and copious amounts of dirty talk.

into another (another) serotonin overflow by mercutionotromeo

Harry wants this year to be different - wants it to be the year that he finally gets over this stupid crush. He’s going to uni, he needs to decide what he wants to do with his life.

Instead, he’s deciding what he wants to do to Louis Tomlinson.

Or: Sweet first time sex wherein Harry's adorably awkward, Louis is achingly cool, and Harry rides Louis wearing his jersey.

note: it says it in the tag but this is the edited version written in 2019, rather than the 2017 original- so there’s two put I put the link for the newest one :)

need a little sweetness in my life by mercutionotromeo

Harry's always liked feeling desperate and small when Louis touches him, but when he sucks Harry off...it’s fucking otherworldly. Desperate’s not really the word at that point - it’s helpless. Like… like the fucking world could stop spinning and Harry wouldn’t be able to do anything about it until Louis finished him off with his lips and his tongue.

Or, Harry and Louis go to university together. Harry really likes it when Louis sucks him off, and Louis really likes it when Harry calls him Daddy.

(Sequel to "into another serotonin overflow")

I made a map of your stars by brightbluelou

Harry does not have a crush on Louis Tomlinson. Yes, Louis is very pretty and funny, and Harry may have had more than a few inappropriate thoughts about him, but he certainly doesn’t like him. (Except for the fact that he totally does.) or, Harry is the shy boy in the back of the class that no one really notices. Louis is the loud, outgoing football player that everybody likes.

We Made These Memories for Ourselves by supernope

Breath held, Harry squints his eyes open and focuses on the first stick. A blue line. Harry breathes out an unsteady breath. He’s pretty sure he read that one blue line is a negative, but he fishes the box from the bottom of the pile just to make sure.

“Negative,” he confirms, voice echoing around the small room. “Next.”

Now that he’s feeling a little less shaky, he scans the rest of the tests at once, is met with a headache-inducing mixture of pink plus signs and blue double lines. His heart rate picks up until it’s pounding triple-time in the base of his throat and the pit of his stomach, thundering in his ears and throbbing in his temples. He flips over the rest of the boxes slowly, but he knows what they’re going to say before he even looks.

[or, Louis is a footballer, Harry owns a bakery, and they're having a baby.]

Kiss Me on the Mouth and Set Me Free by ls2k14   

Louis has his head thrown back in a laugh, his wet fringe hanging in front of his eyes, and a beautiful flush to his cheeks. From this angle, the sun hits his face just right to where the beams of light are shining in between the spaces of each individual clump of watered down eyelashes. His chest is showing through the soaked material of his white jersey and it seems that his biceps are attempting to break free from the sleeves that are clinging to his skin.

And Harry can do nothing except take it all in. He doesn’t even think he’s breathing at this point. He is literally stuck in place, admiring the true beauty of Louis Tomlinson, while being surrounded by fit footballers and generally attractive people. He doesn’t think he’s ever been in love before, but if Louis let him, he’s pretty damn sure he could change that in the matter of a few nanoseconds.