#and how i want him and tee to end up in non lives aus

[vegaseatsass]

I want to do a full rewatch of the DFF finale and deep discuss a lot of the hallucinations but for now, does anyone wish to conversate about Tee/Non with me, because

[aliidarling]

i literally love how you write danny so if that’s okay i want to ask you if you could do Danny x Fem reader cuddling please🙏

thank youuuu😭🙏🙏

DANNY JOHNSON x fem!reader

— sfw content

summary; just cuddling with your psycho boyfriend!! :3

warnings; danny himself is a warning, blood, stalking, fluff, cuddling, pervert danny, non-dbd au, no beta read we die like danny’s victims

you and danny’s relationship was close to normal. you were aware of his antics and how he snuck out at night to end the lives of other, but who were you to judge? you were the one in love with him knowing he had ruined several lives.

there would be quiet nights where you laid in bed waiting for him to return home from one his stalkings. anxiety would pool at your feet, taunting you. your head yelled at you and told he he probably got himself arrested or he broke into the wrong house.

but each time the sound of the front door slowly creaking open always seemed to comfort you. you’re quick to sit up and rush out of your bedroom, peeking into the living room. he’s still in his ghostface get up, the bloody robe and mask telling you he had succeeded once again. a grin tugged at your lips and you ran into his arms, giggling lowly.

“how did it go? are you alright? did they fight back—“ you bombard him with questions that had been lingering in your mind for the last two hours. your hands grab at him to hold him tighter to you, eager to feel the warmth of his body.

he chuckles at your needy attitude and pulls off his mask, his dark eyes staring you down. he was as pretty as the day he met you.

“it went well, sweetheart. lil’ brat fought back but as you can tell,” he snickers, motioning to himself, “i won.” the cocky tone doesn’t go unnoticed. whenever he comes home from a successful kill he’s always in a good mood.

“good job, baby.” you coo happily, pressing kisses all over his face, from his jaw to his forehead. he hums and picks you up. you wrap your legs around his waist as he holds you close, carrying you to your bedroom.

“she managed to land a few blows on me, though.” he grumbles into your ear, subtly feeling you up through your pajamas. he loved these little flimsy things you wore to bed each night, a cami with cotton shorts, they were always so soft and comfortable to cuddle with.

“awwww, are you okay?” you frown, looking over his bloody robe. “s’all her blood, right?” you bat your lashes.

he snorts.

“yes, baby, all her blood. but the sore ribcage is from her bitch ass landing a few blows on me.” he spits out the last few words, feeling quite frustrated that the young girl he went after managed to hold quite a fight. he had stalked her for weeks, memorized every single thing about her, but he didn’t know she would pack quite a punch. she was barely 130 pounds for gosh sake.

“poor baby.” you coo as he sets you down onto the bed. he strips down from his robe, throwing it into the hamper with no hesitation. underneath is his usual black jeans with black tee shirt, completed with black gloves. he turns to the closet and starts to rummage through for some pajamas as you sit on the bed, fiddling with your fingers, waiting for him.

he glances at you out of the corner of his eye, a scowl tugging at his lips. there was a small scar at the corner of his mouth that reminded you how dangerous his career was, but it also definitely enhanced his beauty no matter what anyone else told you.

“why you still awake, huh?” he asks as he grabs a pair of grey sweatpants and a black crewneck. he pulls down his pants and throws his shirt into the hamper with no care, and then quickly changes into the comfortable pajamas.

“was waiting for you.” you pout, watching intently. you weren’t a pervert, no, you just loved to watch your boyfriend in his glory.

“of course you were.” he sighs with a subtle hint of mirth. he fixes up his messy hair and crawls into the bed right next to you, shoves away some of your stuffed animals even after you yell at him not to, and pulls you close to his chest. you sigh happily and snuggle into his chest, his firm arms wrapping around you. he had a cold heart but he’d never say no to cuddles.

“gimme a back massage tomorrow, okay?” he whispers, hugging you. he rolls over so he’s on top of you, happily sighing at the new position. it’s more comfortable for him and slightly suffocating for you, but he doesn’t care. he just likes the feeling of having you in his arms underneath him with your boobs in his face.

“so squishy….” he mumbles, burying his face into your breasts, hands squeezing your waist.

“goodnight danny.” you yawn and press kisses to his head. he hums back, his voice muffled by your body, eyes already closed and zoned out. he’s always exhausted after one of his killings. it’s quite a work out for him. “night, brat.” he purrs.

[cryinginmyroomsposts]

New Year's Day - Kim Mingyu

tags: fluff, friends to lovers, slight angst, lil' bit jealous, college boyfriend Mingyu, non-idol!au

masterlist

Not proofread!

"Tell me why we thought hosting a New Year's party at our apartment would be a good idea!" Your roommate's voice comes booming from the kitchen as you struggle to organise the lights on the wall above the sofa in your shared apartment living room.

"It definitely was not my idea." You bite back, regretting the idea the more by the minute as you clean and plan for the party.

"Haw! The audacity... you invited 15 people." Sam glares at you from the doorway, one hand on her hip and the other holding a ladle in a menacing way.

"I didn't know we would end up having to invite all of them." You admit. Sam sighs and walks towards you. "It's okay babe, I know you only wanted to invite Mingyu. It's not your fault he wanted to bring all 12 of his friends. And that two of them would want to bring their significant others."

"I really am sorry for all the trouble you go through for me Sam. I really appreciate it. Thanks." You both know you mean it. Sam had agreed immediately to the idea of the party seeing as how excited she was to see you and Mingyu get together.

Mingyu had been one of your closest friends in the last two years of university and you have been in love with him since the first semester you had met him. After two very lonely and self-destructive semesters of breaking your own heart, watching him date other girls and staying away from the one person you wanted to be close to, this last fall semester Mingyu had finally shown signs of reciprocating your feelings. Or so Sam felt.

At this point, you were so in your head about the whole thing that you could not differentiate reality from the illusions in your head. Breaking your heart had become a child's play for you and now it took constant encouragement and reiteration from Sam to even try to make moves on Mingyu.

He had been single for a whole semester and his behaviour toward you recently had been way different than before. The whole idea of a New Year's Eve party had been Sam and your idea to get Mingyu to finally realise his emotions (if he had any other than that of friendship for you). While the details had not exactly been worked out, you figured you would at least get to spend time with him in a closed setting.

The initial plan was to invite three of each of your friends and keep it as intimate as possible so that you and Mingyu could spend most of the time together. But when Mingyu had excitedly asked if he could bring along some friends, you had given in thinking it would be two or three but it ended up being thirteen instead. Not your fault that he looked like an absolute puppy when he wanted something.

The party was in an hour and now the two of you were running around trying to set right the drinks, decorations and food. Mingyu had promised to show up earlier and help with the food and setup but he was yet to arrive.

The sound of the doorbell breaks your train of thought and you go to open the door.

Speak of the devil.

"Ya! Why are you so late?" You question before he could greet you. As always Mingyu towers your entire doorway while looking gorgeous. He's wearing a simple black tee and joggers but manages to look like a million bucks.

He giggles and pulls you into one of his famous bear hugs and before he can reply another voice echoes from the stairs leading to your doorway.

"Mingyu ya, help me here please." The voice is soft and high-pitched. Before you can question it, Mingyu turns around and runs downstairs. When he returns, there is a girl in front of him, she is dressed in a modest pink dress, with bouncy curls lining her shoulders and a smile that lightens up her whole face. She is very pretty.

"Oh hi. You must be Y/N, Mingyu talks about you a lot. I'm Maya." She says extending her hand out to you. Her voice is soft and she looks very friendly and you shake her hand with a smile on your face.

"Hi, Maya. Welcome! I hope he has only told good things." You joke lightly and she laughs nodding.

"Yes, yes! I hope it is not a problem for me to join." She says as you lead her in, Mingyu towers over both of you as he walks behind her holding a box full of you're not sure what.

"Absolutely not an issue Maya! Please go have fun."

Once they are in, you close the door and walk straight to the closest restroom. When the locks are secured you open the tap and let out a breath that you didn't know you were holding in. It is not logical for you to jump to conclusions, but the fear still creeps in.

"Y/N, stop being stupid! She's a friend, seems sweet and is probably an amazing friend." You tell yourself through the mirror. But the problem is not her, you wouldn't hate or behave differently with her for a second. the problem is you and your fear that Mingyu has again chosen someone else over you. The problem is he doesn't see you, again, and you get left behind to be the best friend only, again.

The feelings are all too familiar to you after all this time. You are very close to breaking your own heart, hurting yet another piece of you to show up as Mingyu's good friend and support him. You are almost entirely convinced and right as you are about to break down the knock on the bathroom door interrupts you.

"Ya Y/N, you okay?" Mingyu's soft "Y/N-voice" (as Sam calls it) booms through the bathroom doors and stabs your heart like a glass shard. This is why it is so much harder to break your own heart. Because this man is so good and caring and everything you could ever want and yet he would never be yours.

"Y/n?" He calls out again. You wash your face and clear your throat as fast as possible. "Yeah, I'll be out in 5. Go mingle with people." He doesn't reply and you are too preoccupied trying to look party-presentable. This is why you jump when you find him staring right at you when you open the bathroom door.

"Jesus! Why did you scare me like that?" You ask trying to calm your heart rate. Instead of replying to you, he locks the closed room door and faces you while holding your shoulders. "What happened? Who should I hurt?" You chuckle and the worry on his face eases a little bit. His care for you only makes it so much harder to distance yourself and try to move on. This man makes it so hard not to love him.

"I'm fine Mingyu. I just had to use the restroom." You try your best to sound convincing but judging from the look of judgment on his face you can say he didn't buy it. Before he can begin his usual "Let people care about you" rant, Sam calls your name from the other end of the house and you excuse yourself to return to the chaos of the party. The rest of the three hours go by in absolute chaos of 13 grown men and 6 girls trying their best to socialize, vibe, and party in your apartment. You keep your distance from Mingyu and Maya, and find yourself clinging to Seokmin- Mingyu's friend. Seokmin is a very hot guy who is determined to be the party clown and you can't help but laugh every other minute at his antics. Everyone seems to be enjoying it, and several games are played.

"Everyone gather round and settle down. Ten minutes to midnight guys!" The sudden excitement in the air is infectious. You see that Seungcheol and Jihoon have settled on the couch with their girlfriends, Vernon is trying to be subtle about sitting next to Sam's classmate who he has been talking to since the evening began.

Right as you can figure out what to do about your Midnight seat, Sam pulls you into the kitchen.

"Where do u think you are going ?" She has the usual no-bs Sam stance, arms crossed across her chest and sharp eyes that can pierce through you.

"I- I am going to sit before Midnight strikes." You know where this conversation is headed.

"Y/N, why were you going to sit on the stool, alone. At midnight." If Sam's eyes were daggers, you would have bled to death in those few seconds of eye contact. The living room is buzzing with energy and you realize there are only 5 minutes left.

"Sam..." you exhale. She shakes her head in disappointment and walks away. You face the kitchen wall away from the living room and breathe.

Inhale... Exhale... Inhale... Exhale... In- "Hey..."

Mingyu's soft voice breaks your flow and you whip your head to see him standing right next to you. His palm is placed on the kitchen counter next to you and he is practically shielding you from the outside world.

"All okay?" He says, his voice is soft and slow. His eyebrows are furrowed in concern and he is leaning down to your height, face inches apart. His face is dripping with concern and it breaks yet another piece of your heart.

It would've been much simpler if you had only considered him a good friend like he does with you.

Mingyu lifts his eyebrows emphasising his question when you don't reply. You clear your throat and nod in affirmation.

"I'm good Gyu." "You sure?" You let a small smile at his concern, god he was so sweet. "Yes, Gyu. Don't worry. Just needed a small break from all the crowd before the new year."

He nods because he understands that sometimes crowds can overwhelm you.

"Why are you here?" You ask him, turning slightly to face him better. This immediately turns out to be a mistake as you are now trapped in between the kitchen counter and Mingyu's big frame. As the noise outside gets louder he leans further down toward your face and you repeat your question closer to his ear.

Can he hear how fast your heart is beating? Will he ever know how much you like him?

"I came to check on you because you were missing." He states matter-of-factly and you roll your eyes.

"There are only two more minutes for midnight Gyu. You should be out there, having fun."

"Yeah, you too." He sounds serious and you sigh.

"I will come out but you should go there. Maya will be waiting for you." Your voice croaks the last sentence and the knife in your heart sinks in further.

Mingyu looks confused at your words. "Why would she be waiting for me?"

"30 seconds to the New Year guys!" Someone shouts from the living room and you take another deep breath. Mingyu's eyes haven't left you and you are too nervous to see him for more than a second at a time.

"See less than a minute. Go out there before you miss your midnight kiss." You say in the brightest tone you can muster, hoping he understands you are referring to Maya and his midnight kiss.

"I don't need to be out there for that." He says the words slowly as his face is inches away from yours.

Huh?

Judging by the smirk on Mingyu's face you probably look like a deer caught in headlights at the moment. You're not sure how long you stay frozen like that until someone yells 15 seconds from the living room.

"Wha- what do you mean?" You gulp.

Mingyu moves his face closer, and he lifts one hand from the counter next to you to hold your chin. He angles your face and analyses it.

"Y/N?" Mingyu's voice comes out in a question, one you seem to be understanding.

Your heart is screaming in joy - "HE WANTS YOU TO BE HIS NEW YEAR'S KISS".

Your head is screaming in fear - "HE IS TOYING WITH YOU. RUN."

You gulp again. Mingyu has the softest smile on his face.

"Mingyu, don't play with my heart." Your voice is barely audible but you know Mingyu heard you. The smile on his face illuminates his eyes.

"Would never dream of it." He says in a deep and soft tone.

"5 SECONDS", a voice travels from the living room.

"Is this real, Gyu?" Your heart is beating in your eyes and you are staring deep into his.

He is now holding your face in both of his palms and your back is pressed on the kitchen counter.

"3 SECONDS!"

"As real our beating hearts, Y/N."

You believe him. Your heart believes him. Your brain has shut the fuck up for once.

"2 SECONDS GUYS!"

"So... can I kiss you ?" Mingyu's expression is now clouded with worry and you smile from your heart.

"1 SECOND!"

You nod quickly and right as everyone from the living room is yelling Mingyu's lips come crashing on yours.

It is everything you imagined, and so much more. His lips move against yours slowly. Both of you are smiling into the kiss. Neither of you is in a hurry at that moment, He is savouring you and you are melting into him.

After what feels like an eternity, both of you break apart for the practical purposes of breathing( who invented that huh?!).

Mingyu's face is still close to yours, lips lightly brushing against each other's.

The living room is bursting with energy and all your friends are there but you couldn't care less about anything at this moment.

"Happy New Year." Mingyu sounds content, his eyes are shining with happiness and his smile is incandescent.

"Happy New Year Gyu."

"I'm never starting a new year any other way after this," Mingyu says and you laugh. "Or any day for that matter." He states as he wraps his arms around your waist now.

God, you could get used to this!

"Oh wow, loverboy! Slow down... we still need to talk about things." You remind him because you have always been the one to bring all the anxiety and sense into this relationship.

"Hmm yeah, but a kiss first?" He asks in his signature puppy-Mingyu face. As you're about to lean in you see Sam enter the kitchen from the corner of your vision. She is startled at first and then breaks into the biggest smile as she leaves the two of you alone.

Your smile widens as Mingyu captures your lips once again.

It's been 5 minutes but this is already turning out to be your favourite year ever!

[lokisprettygirl]

Close Ties (Daemon Targaryen x Female Reader) (Modern AU) (Non canon) (18+)

Chapter 1

Summary: A decade after he disappeared so suddenly from your life, you reunite with the man who you used to address as Uncle..lovingly.

Warning: 18+, dad's best friend trope, canon (we don't know her), familial uncle niece sort of relationship but he's not really her uncle, there will be smut later, significant age gap but reader is in her mid twenties, mention of infidelity, divorce

"Honey you remember your uncle Daemon right?"

Your eyes perked up as you heard your mother's voice.

"Ofcourse, what happened?" You asked her as you turned around to look at her, you were getting ready for your parents 25th anniversary party when your mom thought this would be the right time to mention his name. Ofcourse you remembered him, you'd never forget him.

"Oh nothing, your daddy was able to convince him to come, we are going to see him at the party, isn't that exciting? It's been ages.. hopefully those two will make it up finally" she said cheerfully and for a moment you felt dizzy. You never thought you'd ever hear about him again let alone see him..

"Oh my gosh, is this uncle daemon the same uncle daemon? The hot guy in your old family pictures?" Your best friend Cassandra whispered in your ear so you looked at her, she was a beautiful blond and bit of a slut which you didn't mind, you both had been friends since college even though at times you felt envious of her, it was only natural, she was everything you were not.

"Yuppp…that Daemon" you sighed deeply as you began to feel jittery. You hadn't heard from him, of him or seen him for over a decade, something happened between him and your father, you just didn't know the truth, you didn't know why their friendship had ended so suddenly that not only Daemon had cut ties with your family but also moved to the states with his wife Stella.

"Ohhh he just got divorced so don't mention it" your mum said to you.

Oh well, shit happens right?

After fidgeting in the room you collected yourself and made your way downstairs to join the celebration.

Your eyes immediately met with Daemon as you stepped down the stairs, for a moment there was a look of unfamiliarity in his eyes, you felt as if he was checking you out or maybe that was just wishful thinking on your part. He looked good, so good, as good as you remembered and definitely good for his age, if you didn't know he was almost 43 now you wouldn't have been able to tell really.

He had a maroon jacket on with loose tee underneath, a cross chain on his neck, his hair was a fluffy mop of blonde loose soft curls on his head just like you remembered, his shoes shined so bright you wondered if one could see their face on them and damn you wanted to see your face on them.

You didn't want to act as if you were ignoring him so you made your way to Daemon, he had retreated towards the bar and had his back turned towards you while he sipped on a neat whiskey.

"Uncle Daemon" he turned around his head to look at you and a smile graced his features,

"Y/n?" voice as rugged as you remembered,

"That's me"

He put his glass down and wrapped his one arm around your waist to give you a quick hug. He smelled divine.

"You grew up didn't ya?"

"Well it took ten years but I guess I did" he chuckled as you said that.

As you now stood near him you could see the signs of aging on his face, his skin still looked soft and blemish free but those lines on his forehead had gotten more intense with time, none of it stopped him from looking sexy as fuck though. How was this possible? You were just a kid back then with a stupid crush, a crush that you knew has possibly ended as he had disappeared from your lives then how come you felt so awestruck as you stood so close to him after so long?

"How have you been?" You asked him as you sat down next to him, his mouth curved into a smile

"Fine..how are you?"

"I'm okay..So you're here just for the party?" You asked him so he shrugged in response.

"Not really, I'm joining that anniversary trip thingy unless you want me to leave of course" he joked

You were surprised to hear that, you hadn't heard from him in ten years and now your dad had him join the family trip, what had even transpired between them?

"Mmmm you can come" he chuckled as you said that,

"How old are you now if you don't mind me asking?" He turned to you as he questioned,

"Do you not remember how old I was when you ummm vanished?" he chuckled again but this one was more from nervousness rather than amusement.

"Twelve?" He asked you, making you shake your head in response.

"Fifteen"

"I'm just messing with you, of course I remember"

"Mmmm.. I'm really Sorry about your divorce"

You weren't really sorry though.

The smile on his face faded as you mentioned it but he composed himself almost immediately.

"Good riddance, should have ended it a long fucking time ago..Christ i can swear in front of you now right?" You chuckled as he said that,

"Absofuckinglutely"

"Hey there now!! You're still not allowed to say those bad words missy" you rolled your eyes playfully at the comment "What's going on in your life anyways?"

"Not much uncle, just got my heart broken so I'm gonna spend the night nursing it" he winced as you said that.

"Tch tch who's the unlucky fella "

"Dylan, we were in college together "

"What did he do?"

"Just the good old infidelity you know"

Well it wasn't just that but you weren't ready to dump all your problems on him just yet or ever really.

"Did you love him?" He asked you,

"I liked him enough to be with him"

"Well..here then" he passed you his drink so you took a sip from it.

Bold of him to assume the gesture wouldn't make you giggle like a schoolgirl.

"For the broken ones" he cheered to youz making you smile in response

"You two met already I see" your father approached you two so you stepped down from the stool and hugged him, you hadn't seen him all day. He was a very busy man.

"You do remember him right sweetheart?"

"Of course, how could I ever forget?"

Daemon's brows raised as you said that. You have turned into a fine young woman, he couldn't deny that, perhaps if he was a mere stranger to you he'd have accepted the fact that he found you attractive but he wasn't, he had known you since you were just a kid and he wasn't going to cross that line. However he wasn't entirely sure about your intentions at the moment, the way you looked at him didn't seem so innocent or maybe he was overthinking.

You stepped away from him to not come across as desperate or give yourself away, you really thought you just had a stupid crush on an older man when you were just a teen but seeing him after so long had made you feel something again and you had no idea how to feel about it.

If he was just another man maybe you could have entertained this but he wasn't, he was the man who was more of a uncle to you then your own uncle had ever been and he was almost two decades older than you which almost seemed blasphemous.

"Damnn he's still hot huhh" Cassandra said to you, making you snap out of your thoughts.

"Shut Up he's old enough to be your dad, Cassie" she chuckled as you said that.

"He's just eighteen years older than us..besides what eighteen years olds have babies..ohhh wait your parents did" She joked so you gave her a tight lipped smile.

That's right, your parents were barely adults when they had conceived you, they were your typical high school sweethearts and got carried away one night but both of them loved each other so deeply that they knew they wanted to be with each other no matter what. They got married before your birth, however your father couldn't get his college degree until he had turned twenty five, and that's where he had met Daemon, even though your father was just a tiny bit older than Daemon there was an instant connection between them and that friendship had only bloomed with time.

You were just twelve when you had returned from the boarding school and that's when you had met him officially for the first time. His curly hair and a certain boyish charm made you see him differently, you never had a crush on a boy your age or anyone really before you saw him, maybe you just really liked how old and mature he was than you.

"Relax, it's not like I'm planning to marry him..I just want a one night stand, maybe two, please tell me he's coming with us to Bali" you sighed as she said that. You didn't want your best friend to get involved with him but did you really have a say in it?

"He is"

Your eyes met with Daemon so you looked away, after the party you went into your room and changed into a night dress, as you stepped downstairs in pretense of going into the kitchen to grab a water bottle you saw Daemon and your dad having a drink and smoke in the living room as they caught up with each other, he looked your way as he noticed your presence and gave you a small smile which immediately made you feel giddy again.

He was staying in the guest room so later that night you knocked on his door, you honestly didn't know why you were there but you just wanted to talk to him, as he opened the door he was a bit surprised but he smiled and invited you in,

"Umm I just wanted to ask if you're enjoying your stay"

You questioned him, he had his luggage opened on the bed,

"It's fine i guess.. how come you're still awake?"

"I sleep late"

"Mhmmm well i brought something for you, but for some reason I was still thinking of you as that fifteen year old girl"

He mumbled as he walked towards you to close the distance between and gave you a plushie.

"You thought I'd forever stay fifteen?" a giggle escaped your throat as you grabbed the plushie, ignoring the way his fingers brushed against yours and the spark you felt from the mere touch.

"Yeahh i wasn't expecting you to look like this now"

He crossed his arms as he spoke to you, did he just look at you from head to toe. God you hoped so. Wait no you didn't hope so. You can't do this.

You clutched onto the plushie and gave it a whiff, it smelled like him, that wasn't good, definitely not at all good for your health..

"It's okay I still accept plushies as gifts" you chuckled and it made him smile. There was a moment of silence between you two where you just stared at each other, he tried to not gawk at your bare legs and you tried to deny to yourself that you didn't have a crush on that tall, handsome, alluring man in front of you

"Well I'll see you tomorrow then ..uncle Daemon" you mumbled softly so he nodded.

"See you dearest Pixie"

He remembered. Oh god he remembered such a stupid thing.

The next morning, much to your dismay, Cassandra purposefully exchanged her seats on the flight to sit next to him, he looked even better today as he was in a loose fancy tracksuit and had sunglasses on, everytime you turned your head around to look at them, you saw her whispering something in his ears. Okay so you weren't the only one into older men it seems.

You would have taken your chance too if you were her, after all it's not her dad's best friend that she needed to worry about. For you however he was a forbidden fruit. A very juicy and delicious forbidden fruit.

As you all reached Bali there was a yacht waiting to take the group to the resort your dad had booked for the vacation, to you it seemed a bit frugal even though you had grown up in his riches.

You were the last one to board the yacht and much to your surprise Daemon was waiting there for you like the gentleman he had always been.

"Come princess" he mumbled as he put out his hand, the pet name though was uttered as a joke but it still made you feel flushed.

"Thank you good sir"

"Have you been here before? Bali i mean" He asked you

"Noo...you?" He sighed as you reverted his question.

"Once"

"Mmmm rich people am I right?"

"Says the one whose daddy owns the most luxurious hotels in all of UK"

"Well ..It's not really mine you know..i didn't make it or earned it..I'm barely a nine to five gal" he chuckled as you said that before he turned towards you and raised his glasses up to his head.

"You're his only daughter, when he dies, who do you think will inherit all of this?"

Okay, you had completely forgotten how cheeky he used to be.

"Stahp that's mean" you faked a gasp and it made him smile.

"It's just life Pixie" you nodded as you stared at his features. Gods he was pretty in a way that felt extraterrestrial sometimes.

"It's good to have you back..when you left I thought I'd never get to see you again" his brows raised as you mumbled that.

"Why did you want to see me again?" He enquired as he looked you right in the eyes and you froze, you didn't know what to say in response, your body trembled and his intense gaze made you feel flushed again.

Luckily for you, Cassandra intervened and took him away from you which for once you felt grateful for.

After that humiliating freezing incident you spent all day chilling in your room as you tried to not think of him. In the evening you built up the confidence again and put on a sexy summer dress to go to the beach party. Perhaps that will make him see you differently. You kept having these delusional wishes.

Daemon wasn't a man born yesterday so when your friend started to flirt with him excessively he knew she wanted him, your father approached Daemon as he noticed that as well and made a joke about how he was okay with it as long as it wasn't his own daughter. The joke didn't go well with Daemon considering their history together.

He wasn't just there to reconcile with his estranged best friend, he wanted to move back to London and he needed his help to do so and there was one other reason that he didn't want to think of. No, he hadn't forgotten their history but he came back with an open heart, he wasn't there to seek revenge, he really was keen on accepting your dad's effort for reconciliation.

All of those things were immediately shifted to the back of his mind when he saw you dancing with Cassandra, that was one thing he didn't see coming, not the dancing, you always danced, but the attraction he was starting to feel towards a girl he had been around since she was a kid, whenever he thought about your 12 year old self he felt disgusted with himself but that woman moving so sensually on the dance floor wasn't a child no more and he knew he needed to get a grip on this silly sexual attraction before things would turn messy again.

Besides he was still not over the divorce or his ex wife Stella, as much as liked to pretend he hated her now once he had loved her with all his heart, that's why he had stayed for ten years in that marriage. He stayed until his heart gave out on him..

He heard a click in front of his face and was snapped out of his thoughts, it was you. Ofcourse. Lord he hoped he wasn't staring right at you like a creep.

"Are you alright?" You asked him, your voice was tender, eyes seemed as if they held more than just mere curiosity. Maybe a bit of care.

"Yeahhh just..bored out of my mind, would rather stay home on a couch" You chuckled as he said that.

"Well i prefer that too"

Shouldn't have said that

You knew you shouldn't have said that as soon as you said it.

"That friend of yours..she's single?" He asked you and you felt your stomach drop almost instantly.

"Why? You won't fuck her if she's not?"

Okay maybe you have had a few drinks already. A smirk graced his features but when he spoke next he made sure to keep his voice firm as if he was speaking to a petulant child.

"Do not talk to me like that Pixie, swearing doesn't suit you"

"I'm sorry uncle" you mumbled meekly so he hummed in response before he turned away.

After that you watched him flirt back and forth with Cassandra and it only bothered you more and more with every drink you ingested. She was your best friend but you had never really told her how you actually felt about your sweet uncle, of course you didn't, it was a secret you wanted to take to your grave, so it wasn't not as if she was doing it on purpose, she just met a sexy middle aged man and wanted to jump his bones but what if it escalates? What if he'd fall in love again? Your own thoughts made you cringe viscerally.

You saw your mom and dad dancing arm in arm and it only made you feel even more lonely, you'd have brought Dylan with you if he wasn't such an asshole, that feeling coupled with whatever was going on with Daemon and Cassandra had already begun to make you feel sick.

"I'm going back to my room..have fun..but not too much" you chuckled to appear as if you didn't care at all so Cassandra gave you a look.

"Babe do you need me to come?" She asked you but her eyes were pleading you to say no.

"Noooo have fun..I'm alright i swear"

As you stumbled away from them, Daemon kept his eyes on you until you disappeared then he turned to Cassandra.

"She just got her heart broken..you should go be with her" he said to her so she smiled sweetly

"Awnnn you're really sweet, trust me I know her, when she wants to be alone she just wants to be alone"

He hummed as she said that but he knew you didn't like being alone, definitely not in moments like these.

"I'll be right back darling..don't go anywhere" he winked at her before he leaned into her to kiss her cheek. Then he made his way back to the resort, he knew he shouldn't have followed you, you weren't a kid anymore, you could take care of yourself, until yesterday he didn't even know whether you were alive or not so he shouldn't have cared this much for his once best friend's daughter but he did. For some reason he had always cared about you.

He caught up with you outside the elevator so he stood next to you,

"Are you going back to your room too?" You chuckled nervously after you questioned him. Why did he have to be so nice?

"Noo I'm just making sure you are okay..it's my job as your uhh friend isn't it? Always made sure you were okay"

Friend. He said friend. Not uncle. Friend.

You remembered his wedding day clearly as a day. He had found you crying your eyes out but you were just thirteen, a child, he just thought you had your usual teen troubles so he comforted you and didn't go to the altar until he had you all smiling. He really didn't have to, but he did. It was his wedding day , the best day of his life as he had so proudly announced at the reception so yeah he really didn't have to look for you but he did.

"Yeahhh you did..until you abandoned us all and moved to USA"

He registered the snark in your voice but he ignored it, he didn't really think it still bothered you. As you reached the room you immediately beelined to the bathroom because you could feel it coming.

"Don't follow me please"

You said to him so he smiled and followed you instead, as you hurled your guts out he held your hair back and even in your drunken mess state you felt aroused by the way his other hand was running on your back. Just great you thought, the man you always had a crush on had returned after years and he was witnessing you at your worst already.

Once you were done he helped you get up and made you stand against the sink as he turned the tap on,

"Wash your mouth" he told you so you rolled you eyes but followed his command. He ran a washcloth under the warm water and began to wipe your face gently, you couldn't help but look up, there was a soft expression on his face that you hadn't seen in years, his brows were scrunched and lips pursed as he concentrated on wiping your face to remove the makeup..

"Very thoughtful of you to do this" he smiled as you said that.

"No worries..used to do it for ..never mind"

You couldn't help but wonder how sweet and loving he must have been with his wife, you saw it in his eyes, he loved her, truly, deeply, completely then why weren't they together anymore?

Before your thoughts could spiral or you can do something even worse than just harboring a harmless crush on your dad's best friend he dragged you to the bedroom and made you sit down on the bed,

"Drink this" he shoved a glass of water in your hands before he grabbed the trash can and placed it right next to your bed in case you'd need it in the middle of the night

"Thanks" you mumbled before you laid down on the bed so he hummed in response.

"Don't go anywhere alright, stay in bed and get to sleep.. goodnight" he said to you and he was hoping for a response but he only heard you grumbling. However as he was about to step out he heard your voice again so he turned around to look at you

"Family"

"What?" He asked you so you turned your head towards him,

"I wanted to see you again, wanted you to come back because you always said we were family..then why did you leave me..us like that?"

His eyes teared up too as he heard your voice sounding so sad, he would never tell you why he had to leave or why he couldn't stay here. He couldn't. For your own good he would never tell you the truth.

"Y/n .. I --"

You cut him off before he could say anything. You knew you should have shut your mouth right there, you knew that but you didn't, the state you were in at the moment aided you in making the worst mistake of your life.

"You had always been more than just family to me..more than just an uncle"

Now what the heck did you even mean?

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

Note: here we go

If you want to be tagged let me know.

[seijorhi]

Cry-Baby

A commissioned continuation of this soulmate AU by the lovely @pokemonfreak666 - thanks for your patience, bby!!

Bakugou Katsuki x Female Reader, Kirishima Eijiro x Female Reader

TW non-con, nsfw, double penetration, rough fucking, minor mentions of blood, kidnapping

The water’s not hot enough. 

It should be; it should burn. The knob’s twisted all the way up, steam rising in billowing clouds, fogging up the bathroom mirror, but it’s not hot enough. You can still feel them on you. Everything else – the blood, saliva, their cum, you’d watched it swirl down the drain, sitting on the shower floor, arms curled tightly around yourself as if that was the only thing keeping you from falling apart and shattering entirely.

But the water’s scalding, and you can still feel your soulmates’ hands crawling over you…  their mouths… their cocks tearing you apart from the inside out. Why won’t it wash away? You’ve scrubbed and scrubbed, your skin’s red and raw but the filthy feeling won’t go.

And they’re just outside. Sitting in your bedroom, or maybe wandering around your living room, sprawled across your couch flipping through channels on the TV. Maybe they’re out there looking at the pictures that line your walls, you and your family, your friends. Fuck, maybe they’re in your kitchen, rifling through your fridge for a late night snack after fucking their soulmate six ways from Sunday.

You can’t go back out there. You don’t want to see them.

Is it awful to hope for some kind of horrifying villain attack or massive accident to force them to go and leave you in peace?

… Would they? 

You can’t imagine Pro Heroes not running off to do their duty, but before a few hours ago, you couldn’t imagine them holding somebody down and raping them either, and clearly they had no qualms about doing that, so maybe your Heroes aren’t all they’re cracked up to be. 

Then again, what difference would leaving make? They know where you live, probably where you work. There’s no anonymity anymore, it’s not like you can just slip away and hide from them. 

You’ve been in the bathroom too long already, you know that – you can almost feel their anxious energy seeping through the crack in the door. Too much longer and they’ll surely come bursting in. 

Patience clearly wasn’t their strong point, and it’s nothing short of a miracle they let you come in and shower alone. Kirishima at least had been more than eager to come join you, grinning widely and tugging you by the arm towards the bathroom– it’d been Bakugou, watching you pale and flinch through red, unreadable eyes who’d reined him back in. 

Maybe he saw how scared you were, how fragile the thread that was holding you together was. Maybe he thought that gifting you these precious minutes alone after what they did would in any way come close to starting to mend the damage they’d just wrought. 

Maybe he just hadn’t cared enough beyond getting his dick wet. 

You’d grown up thinking your soulmates would make you happy, love you in a way that nobody else ever could. The possibility of ever deliberately hurting them seemed like such a foreign and uncomfortable concept to you. But obviously they didn’t care enough about your feelings or your lack of consent to stop them from forcing themselves onto you, maybe you were nothing but an object to them. Something to take and fuck, because naturally you were made for them.

What did it matter if you didn’t want it? 

Your eyes drift down to the timers on your wrists, run down to zero. A quaking sob rips from your throat and you bite down harshly on your bottom lip to stifle it. 

“Why am I even here? In less than an hour you’re gonna meet them, and what am I supposed to do then, hmm?” your friend had asked with a laugh. “Be the world’s most awkward fourth wheel?”

You’d laughed with her, knocking your shoulders against hers with a fond little smile, “Well if they’re gonna be in my life for the long haul, don't you think it’s important that they meet the person who matters to me the most right off the bat?”

You’re terrified of going back out there and facing them, but what other option do you have? The only window in the bathroom is too high and too small to squeeze through, and even if you could, getting an apartment on the seventh floor had seemed like a great idea at the time, but it doesn’t exactly lend itself to an easy getaway. 

The flimsy lock on the bathroom door is all that’s keeping them out – with their strength it’s hardly much of a barrier at all, but it’s all you have.

Here in your bathroom, under the scalding water, you’re safe. They can’t hurt you.

You’d like to think that now they’ve gotten what they wanted, now that they know that you can’t run and their reputations can’t be tarnished, they’ll go. And there’s a little voice inside your head that tells you it’s a stupid, foolish hope. You know that the moment you set foot outside that door, things’ll never be the same again.

A few years back, you read an article on some tabloid website about an up and coming Hero who’d disappeared out of the blue after joining Hawks’ agency as an intern. Supposedly, they were soulmates, and once the Pro realised it, he’d swooped her up and taken her to some secret safe house to hide her away from the rest of the world, supposedly ‘for her own protection’. It was all rumours, of course. No way for them to actually prove the theory – and no one actually cared about some missing, low level Hero at the end of the day. It was news for a week and then everybody moved on.

Are they gonna do the same thing to you?

Spirit you away to some hideout where they can keep you all to themselves – so they can fuck you whenever they want without having to worry about you running off? You’ll never see your family again, or your friends… they’ll be your entire world, and just like that intern, everybody else will forget you ever existed.

Or maybe they’ll be satisfied enough just forcing themselves into your life, letting you go back to your job, your boring, mundane nine to five, never knowing when they’re going to pop up and take what they want. They’ll come over and play house, acting as if this is a normal relationship, waiting for you to come around and accept them. 

Love them. 

The thoughts makes bile rise in your throat. Your entire body aches from inside out. There’s bitemarks and bruises littering your skin, marks that won’t fade for days… you can’t let them do this to you again.

As if they can hear your panicked thoughts, a knock sounds on the bathroom door, and your heart clenches.

“Hey, babe?” Kirishima calls out, “You okay? You’ve kinda been in there a while…” 

That same voice, chanting breathlessly above you, “I love you, I love you– f-fuck– I love you!”

Panic, cloying and sharp tears at you. You try to answer, tell him to leave you alone, that you need more time, but the words catch in your throat and all that comes out is a pitiful squeak and he knocks again, louder, more insistent and it’s too much.

They're gonna break down the door and hurt you again. Hot tears well up and spill down your cheeks with an audible sob, and you clutch at yourself tighter, willing them away–

“Babe? Talk to us, sweetheart, you’re making us worried.”

The door handle jiggles insistently, and you bury your face between your knees breathing rapidly, they’re gonna break it down, they’re gonna break it down, they’re gonna–

“Move, Kiri,” Bakugou snaps.

You don’t register the snap of the lock breaking or the frantic footsteps that approach, the harsh sound of your heaving gasps drowning out all else. Then suddenly there’s strong, muscular arms pulling you out from the water with a muffled curse.

It’s Kirishima who’s holding you, you realise as a flash of blond darts back behind you to turn the shower off. And it’s suffocating, the way he clutches at you, big hands running along your back, pulling you closer, holding you tighter, words of comfort you can’t hear over the pounding of your own heart spilling from his lips. 

And then Bakugou’s face is filling your vision, the scowl on his face growing more pronounced as he studies you – shaking, teary, eyes wide and swimming with fear– 

Something inside of you just gives and you don’t fight it when the darkness swallows you whole.

—

When you come to, you’re lying on something soft – a bed, you realise, but not your own. There’s an arm slung over your waist; corded with muscles, tan, covered in fine, golden hair and faint white scars; Bakugou’s.

Which means that the warm breath gently tickling at your neck must belong to him as well. 

You’re not naked at least; a quick glance down at your body revealing they’d dressed you in one of your old tees and a pair of panties. You’re not sure whether that observation is supposed to calm or unnerve you; you’d rather be clothed than not, but the thought of your soulmates rifling through your things, dressing you while you were unconscious… is not a pleasant one. 

“You’re awake.” It’s an observation, not a question.  His voice is gruff, an edge of sleepiness clinging to the words, but it lacks the heat you’ve come to expect from the explosive Hero. He sounds comfortable almost – at least that’s the sense you get as his face presses up against the nape of your neck, his arm drawing you closer with a low groan.

Still, you haven’t uttered a sound. 

It feels surreal, lying there in your captor’s arms – and he is your captor, soulmate or no, there’s no denying that fact anymore. There’s a part of you that realises that you should be panicking, kicking scratching and clawing because you don’t know where you are, but it’s certainly not your apartment and you definitely don’t want him touching you after what he’s already put you through. 

But rather than the sheer, unrelenting panic that had gripped you before, it’s just… nothing. Dormant, lying simmering just below the surface, and you’re almost scared to draw breath, to shatter the sweet, tender facade between the two of you.

There’s no point in asking where you are, no point in demanding he let you go. They’ve shown you that what you want doesn’t matter here, so instead you ask the obvious question.

“Where’s Kirishima?”

Bakugou grunts, burrowing himself closer. It’s not cold in the room, but his bare skin burns like a furnace, just on the wrong side of comfortable. “Makin’ breakfast.”

Breakfast. 

You swallow tightly, but Bakugou isn’t done. 

“Scared the shit out of us, fainting like that,” he scoffs. “Should’a fuckin’ known you’d need us to come take care of you.”

His fingers, resting over your stomach, dip lower, sliding roughly beneath the hem of your panties as he grinds his hips along your ass. He’s hard already, you can feel every inch of it, long and thick pressing insistently up against you. 

Shame and indignation flare up like a match struck, but before you can even open your mouth to snap a retort, Bakugou yanks his hand out of your underwear to stuff his fingers inside your mouth.

Your first instinct is to bite down, but the blond at your back just growls, “Suck,” and you’re not stupid enough to think that hurting him (or trying to at least) is going to stop what’s about to happen.

Or maybe you’re just scared to test exactly how far you can push them before they really hurt you. 

Obediently, your tongue swirls around his thick digits, hollowing out your cheeks and earning a grunt of appreciation from your soulmate. 

“Always thought that my soulmate was gonna be someone strong,” he mutters, his hips still rocking up against yours. “Somebody who could keep up with Kiri ‘n me, hold their own in a fight. Never thought you’d be some weak as shit, quirkless little cry-baby.”

It stings more than it has any right to. 

Slowly, his fingers slide from your lips, a long, thin glistening strand of saliva connecting the two. It’s hard to fight the whine that escapes you as they return to your pussy, angrily shoving aside your panties before thinking better of it and ripping them off of you completely. The warm puff of breath that ghosts across your skin sends shivers down your spine, and though you can’t see his face when he speaks next you can tell that he’s grinning.

“But fuck, sweetheart, you’re goddamn perfect – everythin’ we didn’t know we needed.”

He kisses you as his index and middle fingers plunge eagerly into your cunt, not the rough, biting kisses he’d gifted you with the night before, no. These are almost tender, sweet – or at least as sweet as a monster like Bakugou is capable of – entirely at odds with way his calloused fingers curl inside of you, fucking you, stretching you out while he cruelly thumbs at your clit.

Katsuki wants you strung out and whining for him. For Kirishima.

He wants you helpless.

“We’re gonna keep you nice ‘n safe, baby. Won’t have to worry about a goddamn fucking thing ‘cept keepin’ your soulmates happy.”

It sounds more like the passing of a sentence than a reassurance, but you can’t tell him that you don’t want this. He knows – he has to by now. He just doesn't care.

You don’t hear it when Kiri comes back, not when Bakugou’s sucking at your neck, your pussy throbbing with need as his fingers drive relentlessly into you, hitting your g-spot with every flick of his wrist.

You might not have noticed the redhead lingering in the doorway, his cock tenting in his pants, eyes dark and glazed over as he watches the show unfolding before him, but Bakugou certainly does.

“Oi, shitty hair. You just gonna stand there and watch or are you actually gonna fucking do something?” His voice is rough and a little breathless, closer to a growl than speech – it makes your gut clench, a shiver run down along your spine.

When your eyes finally do meet Kirishima’s, your heart squeezes, your stomach flipping. Kirishima’s staring at you like a wolf readying itself to pounce, like he wants to devour every inch of you and savour the taste.

He grins widely, pink tongue darting out to lick his lips.

Bakugou’s the one with the bad reputation – as explosive as his quirk, brash at the best of times and overly aggressive even with his friends – you have every reason to be terrified of him, even before he broke into your home to take you. 

Kirishima might be kinder, gentler with his touches (at least, he tries to be), but you’re a fool if you think you’re any safer with the redhead. 

“Thought you said you were gonna wait,” he says, advancing towards the two of you as he kicks out of his shorts, but the grin on his face doesn’t waver for a second. He’s not nearly as put out as he pretends. “I could hear the pretty little thing moaning all the way in the kitchen.”

Shame would be enough to flood your cheeks with heat, but it’s the sight of Kiri’s cock, flushed an angry red, veiny and thick, hanging heavy between his muscular thighs that does the job. The spit in your mouth dries, your heart thumping unevenly even as pleasure pools in your gut courtesy of Bakugou’s attention. You let out a sharp shriek as he quickens his pace, one hand reaching to grab at his wrist, the other clutching desperately for purchase at the bedsheets, but it’s not enough. 

Heat burns at your core, and unwittingly, you find your hips bucking up against him, fervently searching for more.

At your back, the blond chuckles, you feel the deep vibrations echoing through your chest, “Yeah, well you were taking too long.” 

There might be more that he says, but at that moment he slides a third finger into your dripping cunt, calloused fingertips slamming against your tight, gummy walls and you’re robbed of the ability to think. 

Your first orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, the building pleasure snapping like an elastic band stretched too far. A strangled moan slips out of your lips, and you don’t even notice the teeth sinking into your shoulder, Bakugou once more staking his claim as you cum for him. You quiver and quake in his grip, your cunt tightening around his digits and sucking them in further with a lewd squelching sound that you might be more embarrassed about if you could focus on anything but the pleasurable aftershocks of your peak.

All the while, Kirishima drinks you in, salivating at the sight of your drooling, fucked out expression, the syrupy slick that’s all but dripping out around Bakugou’s thick fingers, still stuffed deep inside of your pussy.

And maybe if he were a better man, he might allow you a moment to breathe and hurtle back down to earth, but patience has never been a virtue of his. He lunges forward faster than a man of his size has any right to, jumping onto the bed and all but tearing you out of Bakugou’s hold. You’re still reeling, panting and sore and dizzy with pleasure as Kirishima’s lips crash against yours, stealing what little breath you have left in a burning kiss.

Your attention’s caught on the way his tongue’s sliding against yours, trying to coax you into kissing back, the sharp, minty taste of him – you miss the way he grasps at his flushed, leaking cock, dragging it along your puffy slit. You miss the sound of Bakugou shedding his own pants.

You’re still weakly trying to push at his chest when Kiri slides his cock into your warm, welcoming cunt, his low, guttural moan lost to your lips. And despite Bakugou’s attempts at preparing you, it still burns, the sheer girth of his fat cock filling you up and stretching you uncomfortably. Tears sting at your eyes, a whimper catching in your throat as he hums in pleasure, grabbing your hips and pulling you closer, impaling you further onto his length.

Yet you’re not given a moment to accommodate the massive cock inside of you – not as you feel another blunt, flushed cockhead pressing up against your already stuffed pussy. Realisation hits a moment too late, your face blanching, your heart skipping a beat as panic – sheer panic – chokes at you.

You try to push back from Kiri’s embrace, only to feel Bakugou once again pressing up against your back, trapping you between them. You squirm in vain, trying to kick and push, fighting even as the blond’s cock, not as girthy as Kirishima’s but still far too big for you to take with Kiri still inside of you, starts to force its way into your plush, velvety walls.

“F-fuck, she’s tight,” he grunts as you arch up against Kiri, your tits, still covered by your thin, cotton tee, squishing up against his bare chest in an attempt to writhe away from the overwhelming feeling of fullness, the burning, stinging, throbbing pain between your legs.

But your soulmates are far from considerate, not even as you start to wail, your nails raking down the redhead’s broad shoulders. 

“Your pussy’s a fuckin’ dream,” he continues, swearing with a hiss as he finally bottoms out.

It’s too much, you feel like you’re being split in two. Every twitch and throb of their dicks, every vein, every inch of them is pressed too tightly against you, your walls struggling to take them both. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, oh god it hurts so fucking bad, but neither one of them care as you start to sob–

No, Kiri just kisses away your tears, taking your face in his large hands and cooing sweetly when you beg them through gasping, heaving sobs to stop.

“You’re doing so good for us, baby. Look how well you’re taking our cocks – it’s like you were made for us,” he laughs at his own stupid joke, and all you can focus on is the pain as he starts to draw his hips back, your oversensitive walls screaming in protest. “We’re gonna make you feel so fucking amazing, just wait.”

And it’s not his wide, beaming grin that shatters you, or even the hunger blazing in those crimson depths. It’s not Bakugou panting at your back, his hands coming up to shove your top up so he can palm greedily at your tits, or even the lewd almost feral sounds the explosion Hero’s making as he and Kirishima settle into a maddening rhythm, not allowing you a moment to catch your breath and steady yourself as they fuck you.

No, it’s the sheer, feverish love you can see written across his face clear as day, the softness with which he holds you, even as he chases his own pleasure.

This is their version of love, and you – quirkless, weak as shit and entirely at their mercy – have no hope in hell of escaping it. 

[fbfh]

I think you've horribly misread the situation [shitty roommate pt 2] - leo x reader

wc: 2.3k

genre: contemporary drama, you're definitly going to get second hand embarrassment, cozy fluff

pairing: leo x reader, attempted isabella x leo

reader: gender neutral, they/them

requested: hell yeah

warnings: mild swearing, roommate tries to steal your man once again, mentions of various mainstream vampire media (twilight, the vampire diaries etc.), brief mention of castlevania (even though i haven't seen it yet lol), breif mention of videogames and assassins creed, very mild delusion (roommate is secretly convinced leo is a vampire that's in love with her), attempted age gap relationship (she's 17 and leo's 19, he shuts that down real fast), very bad poetry

summary: You and Leo are both looking foward to spending a long weekend together, and Leo is determined not to let anything interrupt it, even if it means turning down your roommate's attempts to seduce him in the kitchen.

a/n: absolutley no hate or shade or judgement to anyone who has the same or similar traits as isabella!!!!!! at her core she's annoying because she's the antagonist, not bc of any isolated trait or traits

also she's shitty cause she keeps trying to steal your boyfriend?????

Edit: I forgot to mention before, but this is a college au where you're both still demigods, so you went to camp and on quests and stuff together

This weekend is going to be all about recharging. Recharging from the ridiculous back to back closing and opening shifts at work, recharging from having to redo that stupid project twice because your professor couldn’t decide on a clear way to define the criteria, and recharging from Isabella having her townie friend Regan over almost non stop to “completely shake up her look” as she put it.

Between the constant presence of someone you’d barely consider an acquaintance and Big Time Rush’s self titled album blasting on repeat out of her giant airpod shaped speaker, it’s been harder than usual to get in some effective self care. You have no idea how many more times you can hear the phrase “I’m going for Jade West meets Elena Gilbert, with just a little Buffy Summers” before you lose your fucking mind.

Thankfully, the hard part is almost over. There’s some minor holiday tomorrow on friday, so you and Leo both have a three day weekend ahead of you, which you intend to spend entirely together. You planned ahead, frontloading homework, chores, errands, and everything you could think of to remove anything that isn’t cuddling or playing video games and watching netflix together from your horizon.

This includes going straight from work to the grocery store to stock the fridge and get any snacks you and Leo want. You had texted him a while ago asking for anything he was craving, and head into the store with a concrete list. After a while, you circle around some aisles, avoiding the check out.

“I feel like I’m forgetting something,” you muse, knowing it’s untrue, but hoping to trigger a memory anyway. You can’t put it off any longer, finally checking out and heading back to your apartment. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t avoiding Isabella just a little.

You know bringing in all these groceries would be way easier with Isabella and possibly Regan’s help, but you just don’t have the social energy to talk to anyone, much less her, right now. By some miracle, you bring everything in yourself, and hope to get it put away before you see Isabella.

You turn to the freezer, putting away the ice cream. When you turn back around, you’re suddenly met face to face with Isabella, who has opened one of the boxes and is picking at a pastry.

“Hey girlie,” she says, elongating the hey.

“Hey,” you reply lethargically, putting the last of the groceries away. She looks at the pastry in her hand like she’s just noticing it.

“Sorry, I can’t help it, I’m italian.” She smiles, endeared by her own behavior. You have no idea what being italian has to do with asking before you open a box of your roommate’s food, but this really isn’t out of character for her. She brings up the fact that she’s half italian more than Lele Pons blames her behavior on being latina.

She’s wearing sweatpants that say chaser on the leg in red and gold varsity font, and a tight tee shirt that says “it’s okay to love them both” with silhouettes of the male love interests from one of the vampire shows she always watches. You collect the plastic bags to put in recycling, and see a piece of paper on the counter.

It reads as follows:

Drowning in my mind

No one hears me cry

Who was I before society

Before society put me in a pink dress

And handed me blonde hair dye

And told me to lose ten pounds or be labeled a freak?

The happiest people cry the most

Let the lyrics be your story

But I’m not like the other skinny blonde pretty girls

I’m

Different

-b.g. xox

You hold back a sigh.

“I think this is yours.” you say, handing it to her.

“Oh, it’s just some of my poetry I left lying around, that’s so embarrassing.”

I know, you think, you do that all the time.

“Did you read it?” She asks, hopefully.

“Nope.”

“Thank god, that would have been so embarrassing. My poetry is something really… deep, and personal to me.”

“Uh huh. Hey, I’m going to be doing a lot of self care this weekend, so-”

“Oh!” she interjects, eerily similar to Phoebe Buffay - you guess she’s been watching friends again - “I wanted to ask… is Leo coming over later?” Her voice is riddled with subtext, the expression on her face a little too invested in your answer.

“Uh, yeah. I told you the other day we’re spending the weekend together…”

She cuts you off again, a sudden, intense look on her face.

“When will he be here?”

You check your phone, scrolling through your recent texts.

“By 7 at the latest.” It’s around 6:40 now.

“Oh my god, I have to change,” she rushes back to her room, presumably digging through her recent additions to her closet.

You’re frozen for a minute after the interaction, left with a furrowed brow and the beginnings of a headache. You blink, then choose to reschedule processing why she feels the need to change for your boyfriend to a more convenient time. That’s enough of that for today. You don’t care what else happens, you’re not talking to anyone besides Leo for at least the rest of the day. You retreat to your room to finally shower and change into something comfy. As you pass by Isabella’s room, you hear her talking to Regan.

“...There’s something almost… supernatural about him.”

You bite back a laugh.

“Do you think he’s a…” Regan begins, ending the sentence with something too quiet to hear, but you’d bet almost any organ she said vampire.

So close. So, so close, and yet… here you are.

Not much later, Leo texts you to let you know he’s here. You read his text, and run out to hug him in the living room before even typing a reply. He picks you up, and spins you around. The embrace is warm and fulfilling and familiar, and you wish it would last forever.

“Hi, Sparky.” you murmur into his neck.

“Estrella…” he says, rocking you back and forth gently and pressing a kiss into your jawline, “I missed you so much.” He punctuates the sentence with another kiss, this one to your lips, and you smile more genuinely than you have all day. You’re about to agree when you remember the good news you’ve been saving to tell him in person.

“Guess what I got on sale for like, half off,” you start, excitedly, continuing at his invested expression, “the Assassin’s Creed bundle I showed you!”

“No way,” he starts, and you nod.

“I’ll go get everything set up, drinks are in the kitchen!” He watches you retreat into your room, disbelieving how he could possibly get someone as perfect as you to fall for him. He’s not going to question his luck. He grabs a couple caffeinated sparkling ices, and meets you in your room, setting down his bag and grabbing some comfy clothes to change into.

As you both get settled in, you fill each other in on all the ridiculous shit you’ve been through this week. You finally conclude the bizarre - yet somehow standard - Isabella escapades.

“So I will be avoiding all contact as much as possible,” you laugh.

“Yeah, no shit,” he agrees, “Consider me your human buffer.” You thank him, hugging him again and pressing a kiss to his lips.

The next couple hours are spent cuddling and finishing season 4 of Castlevania. Both reeling from the season finale, you agree this is a good place to take a break, get some food, and decide what game you should start with. It’s already 10pm, which most people would consider too late for dinner, but you have all weekend to fuck up your sleep schedules.

“Let’s review,” Isabella says, holding up two red lipsticks. She turns to Regan. “Which one?”

“That one,” Regan says, pointing to the one on the left, then turns to her list, and continues. “Here’s what we know; we’ve never seen him eat, and he never seems tired. He’s really smart-”

“Almost too smart,” Isabella adds, selecting black rose dangle earrings from her jewelry. Regan agrees, and continues.

“He’s almost hypnotically attractive, and his smile is a little too dazzling.”

“There’s something… supernatural about him. Like he’s not… all human.”

Regan writes this down.

“Plus he’s always wearing black and red, and those flowy button up shirts? It’s all adding up, Ree. That dream that someone was outside my window, the ring, everything…” She says, referencing the black and red cocktail ring she’d found with her stuff when she’d first moved, “I’m not saying it’s definite, just that… there’s a chance.”

“What about…” Regan says hesitantly, nodding toward your room.

“Please,” she scoffs, “he’s only with them to get close to me, like Damon and Caroline. Edward couldn’t have just approached Bella out of the blue, he had to infiltrate her friend group first, to seem less suspicious. Not to sound mean or anything, but they really don’t seem like the type someone… like him… would choose.” her voice gets dreamy when she mentions him.

In spite of having seen most mainstream vampire media almost as many times as Isabella, Regan still considers her the expert on these things, and decides not to point out that Edward didn’t infiltrate Bella’s friend group. Maybe it comes up in one of the retellings she hasn’t read yet.

“So, what now?”

Isabella sets down her lipstick, and turns to her friend.

“I tell him.”

Regan’s eyes widen.

“You’re going to tell him you know?”

“No… not yet. It’s too soon, we don’t have enough evidence. I’m going to tell him I know he’s in love with me, then once he’s secure in our relationship... we’ll see where it goes.”

She stands up, assessing herself in the mirror. She chose her outfit carefully; short red dress with black roses and black mesh collar, black rose bracelet to match her earrings, snug faux leather jacket, and black stiletto ankle booties with a very skinny heel, the zipper on the outside gold, not silver. She fluffs her wavy hair and turns towards the door. She looks back one more time, holding onto the doorway.

“Wish me luck.”

Leo enters the kitchen, seeing Isabella already there, leaning against the counter seductively. She’s wearing an outfit and jewelry this late at night that makes Leo wonder if she’s going to an emo tea party. He puts the takeout in the microwave. She’s still staring at him.

“Uh… hey.”

She lets out a dainty giggle, looking him up and down.

“... Hi.”

At a loss for words, and really wanting the awkward silence to be over, he continues, “Did you need something?”

“What I need,” she walks closer to him, tracing her finger over his collar, “is you.”

What the fuck?

His brain seems to stall for a moment, and she uses this opportunity to continue.

“I know why you’re here. I know that you’re only using them to get closer to me. I know-”

“Woah-”

“That you’re in love with me.”

Okay, double what the fuck.

She takes his stunned silence as shyness, and steps closer, putting her arms around his shoulders.

“You don’t need to play so coy, I-”

This time she’s the one that gets cut off. He grabs her arms and gently steps away, trying to make it abundantly clear that he’s not into this.

“Woah, okay, slow down. First of all, you’re 17 and I’m turning 20 in a couple months, so that’s a hard no. Second, I don’t know where you got this idea, but I am not dating them to get closer to you. We’ve known each other since we were like, 15, and have been through everything together. I’ve only known you for a couple months. I love them. Probably more than I’ve loved anything ever. I thought that was pretty obvious.”

He doesn’t want to be mean, he really doesn’t, but he can tell from the look on her face that she still thinks this is all part of some game.

“So why don’t I ever see you eat? Why are you so smart, and always up at night? I know what you are.”

He has to physically hold back a laugh. He takes a step back, and places his hands on the counter.

“Isabella, I have adhd. And I’m literally an engineering student. Why wouldn’t I be smart and have a shitty sleep schedule?”

She starts to protest, and he pulls out the reheated take out from the microwave.

“And for the record, I do eat.”

Exiting the kitchen quickly and retreating back to your room, he hands you your food.

“I got the game set up!” you say excitedly.

“Nice!”

You take one look at his face and can tell something happened. He sees this, and continues.

“I just had a very… interesting interaction with Isabella,” before he finishes the sentence, your head is already in your hands. You let out a groan.

“What did she do?” you mutter from behind your hands.

He pulls you into his lap, rubbing your back.

“I’m not totally sure,” you laugh, “but I think she thinks I’m secretly in love with her…” you’re both laughing before he can even finish the sentence.

“No…” you laugh, “no fucking way…”

“Believe me, I put an end to that as soon as it started.”

“Oh, I do.”

He runs his hand over your back, and you’re quiet for a moment.

“You know,” he continues, “I think getting our own place has definitely moved up the priority list.”

You couldn’t agree more.

[4haechie]

stuck with you

➵ request: can i request fluff + au #2 + trope #1 "enemies to lovers" + prompt #4 & #19?? thank you 🥰

➵ lee donghyuck x reader | fluff, enemies to lovers au, high school au | 2,760 words | “take off your shirt.” + “can you shut up for just two seconds?”

➵ warnings: cursing and one second of suggestive stuff

➵ a/n: thank u for requesting! i really hope u like it :D i added timestamps to avoid confusion, so this turned out longer than expected oops. if u want a part 2, please let me know!

want to request? check this post out!

present time – thursday, 6:30 p.m. 

you’re starting to wish time machines existed right about now. you’ll do just about anything to go back to two hours ago and avoid this mess.

you glance up at donghyuck, who’s put on his thinking cap apparently, and is trying to come up with a way to get you two the hell out of here. “do you have a hairpin? or a bobby pin?” he asks.

you shake your head, “donghyuck, that only works in movies.”

“y/n, i’m trying to come up with solutions here! or do you wanna live in this tiny janitor’s closet for the rest of your life?” he glares at you.

“if i did, i would’ve chosen someone else to share oxygen with. why would i choose you?” you glare back.

he rolls his eyes, indicating that that conversation is over. “whatever. try calling your friends again. someone must still be at school, right?”

you frown, “donghyuck, we had the student council meeting earlier, remember? that ended at six, and it’s almost six-thirty now. all the sports teams’ practice sessions must’ve ended, too. i’m telling you, it’s just us in school.” you shake a little as if trying to wake up from a crazy dream. no avail.

you’re stuck here–no, wait. someone locked you two in here. you’re going to have to trace back your steps to figure out who.

thursday, 4:00 p.m.

“the weekly student council meeting is in session. today, we’re going to discuss prom! i’ve put up a list on the bulletin board that says who’s going to do what. please take a look at it immediately.” you explained, gazing around the group of students in front of you.

you’re the president and donghyuck is the vice president. you two work together almost every day, you’re in the same classes, you have the same friends. but there’s one minor detail in your guys’ relationship: you two hate each other.

hate might be a bit too strong of a word, but it’s true. you and donghyuck, despite working together and being in the same class since third grade, have never gotten along. maybe it’s your guys’ competitiveness. maybe it’s your strong desire to one-up the other. but as long as you can recall, there hasn’t been a single time when he hasn’t made your blood boil.

anyway, you and donghyuck were in charge of planning your senior prom, and ensuring everything and everyone follows said plan.

while discussing the event, you realised you forgot to check with your school’s janitor if he’s free on the day of prom, or if he’s taking a holiday. either way was fine with you, as you were thinking of making everyone clean up after themselves. but just to be sure, you and donghyuck, unfortunately, decided to stop by the closet after the meeting had ended.

thursday, 6:05 p.m.

“i don’t think he’s here. it is after school hours, so i think he went home,” you said, peeping into the dark closet. it was pretty obvious he wasn’t there–the room couldn’t have been more than five feet by five feet. it’s a storage space, but the janitor keeps his bag here before starting work and picks it up right before leaving school.

“yeah, no shit, sherlock.” donghyuck reached around you to flip the light switch on. the lone bulb suspended from the ceiling blazed to life, setting the room alight.

then, suddenly, a figure pushed donghyuck into the confined space, which caused you to jerk inwards. it happened so fast, you barely had time to react, or identify the culprit. you heard keys jingling and fear danced around in your eyes.

donghyuck was still facing the door, while you were standing with your back against the wall. he tried his best to look out the little glass rectangle fitted in the door, but he turned around and shook his head in frustration.

“what the fuck just happened,” you said; it came out more as a statement, but anger resonated through your words.

“we, er, just got locked in here.” he deadpanned as if you couldn’t have figured.

you groaned and clenched your fists. “i’m gonna kill them. you didn’t happen to see their face, did you?”

he shook his head, “nope.”

“well, we know one thing. that person had the key–and only two people have the key to the closet. the janitor, who’s not even here, and the general office staff. but i’m sure they wouldn’t lock us in here.” you said.

donghyuck tilted his head, “okay, then, who...” he trailed off, allowing you to vocalise your theories.

 “somebody must have stolen one of the two keys.” your brain’s gears started turning, trying to think of someone who would pull something like this.

“it could be the janitor’s keys. the closet was unlocked when we got here.” donghyuck reminded you.

“yeah...but he never leaves the closet unlocked. he’s very responsible, so it can’t be his set of keys. it’s probably the staff’s set,” you countered. “they barely pay any attention to non-admin matters. that person must’ve stolen their keys, unlocked the door after the janitor left, and waited for us to come here, before locking us in. jesus, i’m so angry. this is so fucking childish,” you groaned again.

donghyuck nodded in slight agreement, surprising you. he never agrees on anything you have to say, but he didn’t have much of a choice in that situation. plus, your theory made sense. “do you think this whole thing was renjun’s idea? he was the one who suggested we check with the janitor about prom night.”

your eyes widened in shock. “oh my god...wait, but it wasn’t renjun’s idea. it was mine, actually–he just reminded me to do so.” you slowly dropped down to the floor and held your head in your hands. you couldn’t believe what was going on. the entire situation seemed to just hit you.

you’re stuck in a small closet with lee donghyuck, your number one enemy.

present time – thursday, 6:40 p.m.

“none of them are picking up. donghyuck, what if they’re all in on this together? kind of like a senior prank–except we’re the ones getting pranked.” you say, panic rising in your voice. you’re standing now, leaning against the wall with your phone clutched tightly in your hand.

knowing your and donghyuck’s friends, you’re sure you’re going to be here all night. they’re quite a bunch. you and donghyuck have a common friend group, but your friends find your ongoing rivalry extremely annoying. it makes perfect sense if they locked you two in here.

donghyuck digests your words quickly. “no way. that’s insane! why the fuck would they do that?”

“well, do you have a better explanation? i’m sure you don’t, considering i’m the only one who’s been thinking of possible theories, while you’re here giving me the only suggestion you have–your stupid bobby pin idea,” you say, breathing heavily.

“can you shut up for just two seconds? always telling me what to do, disagreeing with me, arguing and fighting with me. we’re locked in here, and you think arguing like little kids is gonna get us out?” he shakes his head in disbelief. “god, and to think i had a crush on you last year.” he must not have meant to reveal that little secret, because his ears turn red instantly.

you gape at him, “what–what did you say?”

“look at you, getting a big head again–!”

“donghyuck.”

“i liked you! there, you happy?”

“i like–liked you too, idiot,” you say in a low voice.

then, he laughs–a melodious sound, emitting pure joy and rainbows and sunshine. “some type of rivals we are.”

you laugh with him now, finding the situation so pathetically sad that it was almost funny. laughable. something to reminisce from time to time.

“you...you still like me?” donghyuck asks in a small voice you’ve never heard before.

“take a guess.”

“no?”

you bite the inside of your cheek, “take another guess.”

he grins at you, leaning against one of the shelves–which was a bad move on his part. he accidentally knocks over a bottle of...detergent? who knows, but it ends up uncapped and half-empty once it lands on the floor. luckily it was plastic, so the bottle doesn’t break. unluckily, the other of the liquid splashes on you, soaking your entire shirt. your plain, white, shirt.

donghyuck freezes, “um...y/n, i’m sorry–”

you hold up a hand. the god of testing people’s patience must’ve signed you up for some competitive exam today. “save it.”

donghyuck looks around hastily, trying to find a clean rag. he produces a small yellow cloth from the back of one of the shelves and hands it to you, “here.”

you don’t even say thanks. you quickly take it from him, free your shirt from your jeans, and start wiping and drying it to the best of your ability. you manage to make the shirt as dry as possible, but it was detergent that spilt on you. it was soapy–it was not water. 

you groan for the third time today and look at donghyuck, gritting your teeth. “i can’t possibly go out like this.”

he winces, feeling extremely apologetic. “take off your shirt and wear my hoodie instead. i have two layers on,” he suggests.

you give him a double-take, “what the fuck? no! why would i do that?” you exclaim.

“do you have any better ideas?”

you watch as he swiftly takes his hoodie off, revealing a loose tee clad on his body. you hate to admit how good he looks. he hands the item of clothing to you, and you tell him to turn around as you begrudgingly peel your shirt away. you take the rag once again, wiping off as much soapy liquid as you can, and pull the hoodie over your head.

it smells like him, you think. it smells like that expensive cologne he always seems to wear. you show no indication that you find his hoodie soft and comforting, and tell him you’re done. you roll the shirt, squeezing any remnants of detergent out, and stuff it in your bag.

he bites back the smile daring to form on his lips upon seeing you in his hoodie. “okay. now that that’s over, let’s try to get out of here, shall we?”

you nod. “i have our science teacher’s number. maybe i could ask her to help us? she’s always here late, marking papers and assignments.”

donghyuck snaps his fingers, “you’re right! yeah, give her a call.”

you scroll through your contacts till you find the name you’re looking for. you press the call button and set it to speaker mode so donghyuck can hear as well. she picks up after three rings, “hello?”

“hi, miss angela! it’s me, y/n. you see, um, donghyuck and i got locked in the janitor’s closet by someone, and we have no way to get out. are you still in school? if you are, is it possible for you to unlock the door from the outside?”

miss angela hums a little, as if in thought, “i just left, my dear. i could turn the car around if you’d like. i’m sure the office keeps an extra set.”

“yes! that would be great. thank you, miss angela. and we’re sorry for the inconvenience,” you nudge donghyuck with your elbow, who catches on immediately.

“yeah, we’re incredibly sorry. i’ll be sure to submit an extra report–!”

“save it, lee donghyuck. i’ll be there in five to ten minutes,” she hangs up with that.

you pocket your phone and look at donghyuck. “so.”

“so,” he repeats.

“are we going to act like we didn’t just confess to one another earlier?” you ask, biting your lip nervously.

“no, i don’t want to, um, act like we didn’t. i lied, y/n. i had a crush on you last year, yeah, but i never stopped liking you. i still like you. i don’t want to be your enemy anymore.” he nudges you. 

you smile shyly, “i like you too, donghyuck.”

just then, you hear keys jingling–an all too familiar sound. you get excited, thinking you’re going to be met with the face of miss angela, but when the door bursts open, you see the smirking faces of renjun and jeno.

“about fucking time!” renjun pulls you and donghyuck outside.

“what?” donghyuck demands. “it was your idea to lock us in there? are you fucking kidding me?”

jeno grimaces, “i’m sorry, it was the only way you two would confess your feelings for each other and stop fighting for good.”

“i can think of plenty of ways–!”

“wait, y/n, are you wearing donghyuck’s hoodie? holy fuck...don’t tell me you guys did it.” renjun looks back and forth between you and donghyuck.

“what? no, of course not!” you retort.

“then why do you have his hoodie on, dear y/n?” jeno asks.

“that’s none of your damn business, lee jeno!” donghyuck looks ready to pounce on him, but you place a hand on his chest, stopping him. his gaze drops down to your hand and it softens.

“there was a little accident...but the good thing is that we’re out. hooray. now, everybody, go home. i have to call miss an–”

“y/n, thank goodness! what happened?” miss angela emerges into the scene, looking a little worried.

you briefly explain the evening’s events to her, without mentioning the confession part. she doesn’t need to know that. you tell her it was a silly prank. nothing more, nothing less.

she visibly sighs a breath of relief. “well, at least it wasn’t some stranger. jeno, renjun, i didn’t expect this from you two. but i’m glad you’re all okay.” she takes her leave, after ensuring you four are on your way home.

jeno and renjun go home via jeno’s car, and you and donghyuck, living only a couple of blocks away from school, decide to walk the journey.

“all this... just so we could stop fighting,” donghyuck laughs. you’re walking side by side, hands occasionally brushing against one another. it’s like something out of a cheesy rom-com. you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“it worked, didn’t it?” you say.

donghyuck stops on the pavement, turning his body to face you. he stretches out a hand to push a strand of hair behind your ear, making you bump his shoulder shyly. he smiles; he wouldn’t have it any other way either.

“i guess it did. but what do we do now?”

“what do you mean?” you raise an eyebrow.

“like, do i walk you home first? do i ask you on a date? god, with you, it’s just so much more...different. if it was someone else, i would’ve gone with my gut, but with you, i don’t wanna mess it up. you know?” donghyuck finally takes your hand in his, intertwining your fingers. you feel his warmth radiate, you feel his touch bringing you safety and comfort. something way more powerful than a hoodie.

“donghyuck, i’m new at this too. i’m just as scared as you are. and that’s okay, trust me. i’m glad it’s me and not anyone else.” you assure him.

you gather up whatever courage you have remaining, tip-toe, and brush your lips against his cheek. you stay there for a moment, just breathing him in. when you pull away, his cheeks are a dusty pink shade.

“do that again,” he tells you.

“no, i think i’m good.” you start walking again.

“y/n!” he whines.

“okay, on one condition.” he raises a brow, “ask me on a date.”

for a moment, he’s bewildered. then, he gets down on one fucking knee, not caring about anyone who might be watching, and clears his throat. “y/n, i like you so much. will you make me the happiest man alive, and go on a date with me this saturday?” he looks up at you expectantly.

you chuckle at his antics and give him a nod. “i would love to, lee donghyuck.”

he grins, all big and bright, and leaps up to envelop you in a hug. his arms go around your waist and yours circle his neck. he whispers in your hair, “i guess we owe renjun and jeno a thank you?”

“i am not going to thank them for locking us up in a closet. in fact, i’m gonna double their prom duties.” you feel his chest vibrate as he laughs at your comment.

however, you are thankful that it was lee donghyuck you got stuck with. so, forget the time machine. you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

[jisungffs]

coffee breath - felix.

words: 5.1k

reader: gender-neutral

genre: fluff

tags: best friend!felix x aromantic!reader, coffeeshop au, non idol! au, implied lgbtq!felix, minho is a minor character, minsung is mentioned. this whole thing is strictly platonic, none of this is meant to be romantic. just a cute fluffy fic honestly. the end has a little tension but not a lot.

warnings: THIS WHOLE THING IS PLATONIC, DON’T READ IF YOU WANT ROMANCE, swearing, multiple descriptions of food.

requested by @aritodla​, check her out, she’s an amazing artist and a really sweet person overall. 

Lee Felix was a sweet boy. He had kind eyes, freckled cheeks, and an air of infectious happiness around him. He always tipped generously, he never got angry at the staff, and he always cleaned up after himself. Lee Felix was a sweet boy. And it was a shame all you knew about him was his first name and his coffee order.

 Even though Felix only started visiting your coffee shop a few weeks ago, you could tell he was a genuinely nice person. Everything about him was lovable.

Like the way he always said thank you after you took his order. 

Or like the way he gripped his coffee cup with both his hands when the weather was cold.

Or the way he had a billion stickers on his laptop, adding a new one every week.

Or the way his eyebrows furrowed when he wrote something down..

Or the way he nodded along when he heard music he liked.

Lee Felix was a sweet boy. And even though you didn’t know much about him, you really wanted to. Because Lee Felix was sunshine. And you were in need of warmth. 

It was a sunny day — one where it was warm enough to find solace in cafes and under the awnings of fashion stores, but not warm enough to make you want to curse out everything around you. The perfect weather, really. It was on this day that Lee Felix decided to wear his Twice t-shirt. It was barely noticeable — just a little white logo on the breast. It looked like a regular black tee from a distance. But you noticed. Because not only did you want to get to know Felix, you were also a huge fan of Twice. 

Felix gave you his usual order of a cappuccino and a chocolate scone and went back to his seat.  Felix liked Twice! You wondered who his bias was. Or what his favourite song was. It was really cool that Felix liked Twice right? You finally had something in common. 

You drew a little Twice logo on the coffee foam. You didn’t even realize it. It was pretty usual for you to draw about what’s on your mind, and your cafe didn’t exactly have strict rules about foam art. 

Felix was once again on his laptop today. You could recognize the colourful sticker-covered laptop from a mile away. His brows furrowed as he typed away, only getting up to collect his order. He was back in his seat and was about to continue whatever he was doing when he noticed the logo on his coffee, drawn on foam. His eyes widened slightly, his mouth broke into a grin. You noticed him getting his phone out and taking a picture before you had to attend to other customers.

-

It was a windy night. Felix was already in the cafe by the time your shift started, and was peacefully nibbling on a muffin while doing something on his laptop. His eyes never left the laptop screen. He checked his phone from time to time, but never spent more than a few seconds on it. From the looks of it, he was unaware of everything outside his screen and his table. 

The closing shift never had a lot of customers. It was just Felix, you, and a couple of regulars in the little cafe. 

And the regulars had already left by the time you were done cleaning up. It was five minutes until closing time, and Felix was still there, probably not knowing he was the last one there. You knew you had to tell him he had to leave soon, but you didn’t know exactly what to say. You weren’t the best at the closing shift.

You approached his seat awkwardly. “Excuse me…? Sir…?”, you said tentatively before gently tapping on the table.

Felix jumped slightly at the interruption. He quickly looked around the cafe. “Oh”, he said smally, “Am I the last one here?”

“Yes, and the cafe’s closing soon”, you said with a patient customer service smile.

“Sorry, I didn’t even realise”, he laughed. “I was working on some music and I guess I got carried away”

“Well,”, you struggled to find something to say,” If you like to sing, we have live music on Fridays”

What was that??? Who says that??

“I’ll keep that in mind”, he laughed, shutting the tabs on his laptop. 

His phone screen played the Fancy MV, connected to headphones lying on the table. He was probably streaming it, and your mind raced at the conversation starter.

“You’re streaming Fancy!”,  you said without thinking. You immediately cursed yourself for not spending more time thinking about what to say. He barely knows you, for god’s sake.

Felix didn’t seem to mind. “You like Twice?” Felix said with raised eyebrows and a goofy grin.

“I do”, you replied, mirroring his grin, “Chaeyoung’s my bias.”

Felix's eyes widened. “Wait a second!”, he said,  “Were you the barista who drew the logo on my coffee yesterday?”

“That was me!”, you said laughing.

---

It was a sunny day - the kind where you technically could go out, but it was just a lot more comfortable staying inside. You started mixing Felix's drink as soon as he came to the counter. Felix looked pleasantly surprised. “Guess I don’t have to order anymore”

“I mean,” you said with your eyebrows raised, “You do have to try other drinks at some point, you know? You’ve ordered the a cappuccino and a chocolate scone everytime you came here, and they’re not even that good”

“Hey!” he cry-laughed. “Don’t you dare say that about my cappuccino.”

“By the way,” you added, “I think you’ll like the music today”

Felix raised his eyebrows. His lips quirked up when he realised a lo-fi playlist of Twice songs played through the speakers. 

-

It was an average day -- the awkward phase between afternoon and evening, the weather so ordinary there was nothing to comment about it. Felix shaked his head as he reached the counter and saw you start to make his drink. “Oh I’m not having that today”

You raised your eyebrows, “Oh?”

“Yeah”, Felix said, fixing his posture and smirking. “I’ll have a black coffee, please”, he said in an over dramatic voice.

“Brave today, are we?” 

“Yes, and”  he said like a child boasting about his most recent tag game, “I won’t add any sugar to it”

“Oh boy”, you sighed, shaking your head.

Five minutes later, Felix’s (black) coffee was ready. Five and a half minutes later, Felix’s black coffee was at his table. You watched as he took his first sip.  His entire face scrunched up at the bitter taste. He noticed you looking at him. He gave you a thumbs-up, still wearing the most pained expression known to man. Felix should not drink black coffee.

It was a windy day, the thick grey clouds above threatening to spill over during the night. Felix apparently wanted to prove a point, seeing as he once again ordered a black coffee (no sugar).

“But you hated it yesterday!”

“Clearly you didn’t see the thumbs up”

“Yeah, I was too busy looking at the agony on your face”

He pouted, “But I want a black coffee~”

You sighed. “This will be your villain origin story”.

Not surprisingly, Felix had the same expression of disgust as soon as the black coffee touched his lips. Still not surprisingly, he kept up the cool-edgy-guy-who-drinks-black-coffee schtick.

-

It was a cool yet humid day - the most polarising weather possible. It was a lonely afternoon with hardly any customers in the coffee shop. It was a weekday afternoon, after all. Felix came into the store wearing a black hoodie and a smug grin.

“Please don't tell me you want a black coffee”, you said even before he fully got to the counter. The boy clearly hated the bitterness, but wanted to prove a point anyway. 

“Hey, this was your idea!”, he laughed.

“We have more than cappuccinos and black coffee, buddy. We don’t have to go into the extremes right away”

“Well I’m hoping that if I keep drinking the black coffee, I’ll get used to the disgustingness.”

You shook your head and laughed. “Tell you what,” you clapped your hands together, an idea hitting you. “I’ll play around with some ingredients and make you something I think you’ll like.”

“Ohhhh”, Felix said. "That sounds fun"

"Yes and maybe it'll help me add drinks to the menu too", you grinned.

"I shall not show you mercy, O worthy opponent". Felix spoke with a British accent, bowing to add some flair. 

You played around with steamed milk, vanilla syrup, espresso, chocolate powder, and sugar. Plus whipped cream for good measure. A few minutes later, the drink was ready. Felix came up to the counter and looked at the drink in mock apprehension. 

"I call it the Felixir", you said, . "Get it? Like Elixir?"

Felix let out a laugh. 

“I know. It’s dumb. But!”, you said, "I played around with a bunch of stuff I know you like. It has chocolate, espresso, whipped cream and some other stuff. I have no idea how it tastes, but my barista senses told me this would be nice".

"I trust your barista senses". Felix took a sip of the Felixir.  Whipped cream made a button on his nose. Felix's lips curved into a smile. His half-moon smile shined through. "Your barista senses rock", he said, punching the air.

"Do you like it?"

"I LOVE it. I don't know how you got my favourite ingredients so spot on."

You laughed. "Barista instincts, my friend". 

Felix took another sip, holding the cup with both hands.

"Anyway," you continued, "this one's on the house. You deserve it for enduring the black coffee".

"This is so much better than black coffee", he babbled. "Black coffee has so much caffeine in it?? I was practically vibrating all of yesterday". 

"Black coffee is for people with a lot of shit to do and not enough energy to do them", you agreed. "This one has espresso too, and also a shit-ton of sugar, so you might still vibrate today, just letting you know."

"I'll take being a popular kid's iPhone if it means I can have whipped cream and caramel and the other stuff".

-

It was a sunny day. Ladies in sundresses waited for their dates outside the cafe. 

“Not a lot of people here, huh?” Felix commented.

“It’s a weekday afternoon, what do you expect? Only teenagers on their lunch breaks come here. And you, for some reason”

“How could I stay away from my favourite barista?”

You rolled your eyes. “Since you’re here anyway, let’s talk. I’m bored.” Was that too blunt?

“Cool, what do you wanna talk about?”

“The meaning of life, God, or Twice. You pick”

“Trick question, Twice is God and the meaning of life”

“You’re too smart”

Felix stroked his hair back, “I know”

You roll your eyes. “What are your favourite songs by them?”

“Literally their entire discography, but Fancy or TT if I had to choose”

“Fuck yeah. Those songs are queens”

Felix looks at you approvingly. “We should hang out sometime”

-

It was a clear day. Trees danced around in the wind. Another afternoon where there was hardly anyone in the little coffee shop. Felix ordered his Felixir once again with a cheery tone. You spent some time cleaning up the kitchen and rearranging the items on display. Felix was waiting near the counter once you got done, absent-mindedly checking his phone. He put down his phone and gave you a bright smile when he noticed you coming back.

You smiled back. “What’s the occasion, bub?”

“Nothing, I’m just a little bored and I wanted to hang out with you”

“Well, there aren’t a lot of customers so I guess that works out perfectly”

“How’s your day going so far?”

“It’s pretty boring, to be honest. Maybe I’ll watch a movie when I get home. My shift ends in like half an hour.”

“Whaaat? I was planning to watch a movie too! I live right upstairs, actually”

“Really? That explains why you’re always here”, you laughed.

Felix laughed back. “I have nothing to do today”. Felix gave you an expectant look.

Oh. 

“Me neither”, you said casually. “Do you think we should watch something together?”

“Yes!” He giggled. “I know I’m not the best with invites, but  I’m glad you picked that up”

“Honestly, I’m surprised I got that. I’m really awkward with invites too”

“More reasons to be friends, then”

“We live closer than I thought, by the way. I live across the street. It’s a five-minute walk.”

That afternoon was a pleasant one. Breeze played with the little children on the street. Felix and you were sprawled on the couch, mindlessly watching the trashy movie on TV. An orange cat ㅡ his roommate’s apparently ㅡ decided to laze around on Felix’s lap, his hand absentmindedly stroking its soft fur. 

“Why are early 2000s movies so much more dramatic than they need to be?” Felix commented.

“Right? I remember watching this as a kid and it wasn’t half as bad”, you replied

“So it’s true then. Adulthood only makes things go downhill”

“Hey now you’re the one being dramatic”

“Wrong, I’m always dramatic”

“Your apartment is pretty nice, by the way.”

“Thank you. You’re free to come over whenever”

“Won’t your roommate mind?”

“Not really. Minho’s out most of the time and he brings over his friends all the time too.”

You smiled. “Hey also,”, you said. “Since we live pretty close by, we can hang out at my place some time too!”

“That sounds great”, he smiled widely.

-

It was a cool day. Most of your patrons huddled themselves in hoodies and cardigans. Felix ordered his drink before giving you a curious look. “Did you come to the cafe yesterday?”

“No, I didn’t have a shift. why?” you asked, slightly thrown off.

“Oh that explains it”, he said, “I came in yesterday and you weren’t there. The other barista didn’t know how to make my drink. Or even what it was, actually. And," he paused, "I missed talking to you”

An embarrassing smile crept up your face. “That’s so sweet”, you said, barely audible.

Felix was about to walk back to his table when you said “Hey actually,”

Felix turned around. 

“I downloaded a really awful movie yesterday. Wanna make fun of it together at my place?” you said, just a little hint of nervousness in your voice. “My shift ends soon. But like, you don’t have to if you’re busy or something, we can always-”

“I’d love to,” he smiled. 

The evening was breezy as you and Felix laughed over the hilariously, excruciatingly bad movie.  Felix and you bonded very fast, apparently. Felix was resting his head on your shoulder. It felt so… natural. It was effortless. And comfortable. It was as though your bodies just did what felt familiar to them. You felt Felix’s body shake every time he laughed. You added sarcastic retorts every now and then, Felix joining too. The movie was terrible. But this moment with Felix was beautiful. 

-

It was a breezy summer day, about a month after Felix came over.

 Loving Felix was easy. It was second nature. Felix just clicked with you. The line between friends and best friends blurred quickly. And based on how much he spammed you with messages and how much he visited the cafe and how diligently he memorized your schedule and how many times you hung out,  he loved you too. 

Your phone buzzed.

felix:

are we doing anything today?

 maybe

im in the mood for hot dogs i think

oooooo should we go to the park then?

yes !!

after my shift sounds good?

yesss

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*.✧

You used to find those emoticons cringey until Felix started using them. Now, it was just fucking adorable.

(｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

The park was a few streets away. It was a big one. Preteens ran around and played frisbee with their friends or their dogs or their parents. But the two of you luckily found a park bench ever-so-slightly away from the noise and the chaos. 

As you sat there talking about nothing and everything, you quietly took in Felix's features. His skin was radiant in the setting sun. His freckles, darker from the sunlight, looked like little flecks of chocolate. His eyes lit up whenever he talked about music. Or cooking. Or you. His cheeks rose and fell with his words, his eyes crinkling up when he smiled. 

It was a beautiful moment. You lay your head on Felix's shoulder, half lost in thought. The sun painted the park in a subtle shade or orange. The kids around the park laughed and jumped, being loud and being kids. Felix had stopped talking by then, too busy taking in the sunset. His head rested on yours, your hands almost touching. It was a beautiful moment. But moments with Felix were always beautiful.

-

It was a cold night. You snuggled into your blankets, intently watching something on your phone. 

Your phone buzzed. Felix sent you a meme.

you:

???????? why are you awake

it's 2am

go to sleep

why are YOU awake ????????

im watching something 👉👈

im just reading fics and stuff akdkkdj

what kind of fics 👀

they're fluffy stop making everything dirty

i can't stop me (by twice)

sjskksksjjd

oh also

do you make the brownies and stuff?

or is that someone else

in the cafe i mean

that's me babeyyyy

why tho

i like them :D

:"D

baking w you would be fun 🥺

🥺🥺🥺

im good at baking

and so are you

but maybe we should yeet away the recipes and do whatever

baking is supposed to be precise tho :(

if it fails we eat the cookie dough and erase the whole thing from our memory

nice

i mean

im supposed to be precise with the cafe stuff too but the Felixir wouldn't exist if i followed the rules

now you're getting it

when are we doing this?

buddy

we live five minutes from each other

just come over whenever

fuck planning

im *this* close to straight up giving you my keys

me too tf

hell yeah

also this isn't distracting me from the fact that you need to sleep soon

i feel kinda sleepy actually ngl

sleep.

okay 👉👈

gn !! ily

and please sleep soon aksndn

ily2

 okay :]

-

It was a clear, pleasant afternoon, your curtains swaying in the breeze. The smell of freshly made cookies wafted through your apartment. Felix sat on top of your counter, his legs swinging. Felix took one of the newly-made cookies into his hand and regarded it intently. “Looks pretty good so far. It’s a little bit hard but that’s obvious, we added a lot of ingredients and didn’t adjust the flour properly”

“So much for experimentation”

“We did add a lot of fun stuff though, so my money’s on it tasting good”.

You both bit into a cookie. It was… alright. It wasn’t bad, but you expected it to taste a lot better or a lot worse. You both gave each other disappointed smiles. “Underwhelming.”

“But hey! It wasn’t bad!” Felix added.

“True. Still thought the cookies would be more… more. You know?”

“I know. But who cares about that?” Felix put his arm on your shoulder, “Making this with you was the most fun I had in a while and I couldn't care less what they ended up tasting like.”

You let out a small smile. “I love you”

“And I love you”

You looked up at him. His soft brown eyes were warm with affection.

“Now,” Felix continued, “The cookie dough’s gotta be better right?”

You laughed. “The cookie dough is chocolate sludge at this point”

“Yeah, maybe using M&Ms as chocolate chips was a bit much”

“Probably. But let’s race. Whoever finds the most M&Ms in the dough wins.”

“I already know I’m winning”.

-

It was a drizzly night. Streetlights reflected on the wet asphalt outside Felix’s apartment. Felix and you had decided to have an impromptu sleepover. It was almost 3am, both of you slightly delirious from the caffeine and the staying up. You were yelling at the TV, desperately trying to get your character to do something, damn it. Felix just smirked beside you, his character easily attacking yours. He was choosing not to kill you quickly, which was almost more annoying than dying straight away. It wasn’t long before Felix won the game. You pouted in annoyance.

“Maybe I should start killing you quickly so you won’t be loud and Minho won’t yell at us for making noise”

“This game sucks”, you pouted.

“You’re just new to it. Did you know you can do twice as much damage if you press B after you attack?”

“Really?”

“Yeah! And do you know how to dodge?”

“No” you said like a kid admitting to breaking something.

“Why did you make me skip the tutorial?”, Felix laughed.

“The past is in the past, Felix. How do I dodge?”

Felix spent a few minutes teaching you which buttons do what and which attacks are effective when. It only took a few slightly frustrating runs before you almost came close to beating him. Maybe he was going easy on you, but that didn’t matter. It was fun. 

“You are learning, my protégé”, he said approvingly.

-

It was a chilly evening. Old white sheets lay spread out on your bedroom floor, your furniture haphazardly moved to the living room.  Felix had texted you earlier that day, promising to help you paint your room. You were almost done painting half a wall when you heard his familiar deep voice. “Hey! Missed you.”

“Missed you more”, you smiled.

“What do you need me to do? How may I be of assistance?” he curtsied.

You rolled your eyes. “Just grab a paint brush and do that wall over there. Just make sure it's even and don’t get any on your clothes.”

“You say that with a million paint splatters on you”, he laughed. 

Felix got to work. Neither of you really talked. It seemed that Felix was lost in thought, letting his hands do the painting. But it was fine. Because moments with Felix were always beautiful, even the silences. 

You were finished with your first wall when you decided to play calm music on your phone. Soothing guitar chords filled the silence. 

It was hard to keep track of time. Five songs? Six songs? Maybe an hour? Both of you had made a lot of progress with the walls. It didn’t matter.  What did matter was Felix. Halfway through the third or fourth song, you noticed Felix singing to himself.

 It was barely audible, he probably wasn’t even aware of it. But his voice was soothing. And soft. 

You had never heard him sing before. You wished you did. You could listen to it forever. Felix’s singing voice felt like sweaters and cozy winter days. 

You didn’t say anything. You knew he’d be embarrassed if he knew you noticed. But the rest of the painting session gave you butterflies, to say the least.

-

It was a chilly day. Felix was hunched over his stovetop making ramen while you dramatically read out a fanfic to him from the table. You just finished the kissing scene when Felix let out a disappointed sigh.

“I know right?” You commented.

“I don’t get it. Don’t you think they’d make way more sense as just friends?”

“Waaaay more sense. I feel like the kiss scene is just so unnecessary.”

“I don’t get why writers think everything should have romance in it. I mean, love is friendship right? I mean, for me, it is.”

Your heart stopped. A smile crept up your face. You continued reading out the fanfic, but you didn’t focus on it at all. Because Felix said love is friendship. Love is friendship. Love is friendship!

-

It was a cold night. You were all bundled up in bed with a hoodie and a blanket. Felix was on the phone with you, refusing to hang up despite being half-asleep.

“Seriously Felix, you can’t even keep your eyes open”

“Mm. But I want to talk to you”, he yawned. His half-asleep voice was deeper than usual and very quiet.

“Alright bub. What do you want to talk about?” You started to feel sleepy too. 

“I don’t know. Maybe how amazing you are?”

You laughed. “Fuck off”

“No but… your hair is so soft. And your coffee is really good. And you’re awesome. What the heck. I love you.” he said. He spoke slowly. You could tell he was almost asleep. 

“I love you too you beautiful bastard”

You were met with the sounds of soft breathing.

Felix was very endearing when he was half-asleep. 

-

It was a rainy day, rain knocking against Felix’s living room windows. Felix shared a blanket with you atop the couch. You leaned on Felix, your head on his chest. His heartbeat  synced with the rain on the window. Felix’s arm draped your side. Both of you focused on the movie in front of you. It was a good one so far. The plot was well written, and the actors were doing a good job. 

A door creaked open behind you. Felix and you turned to look at the source.

Felix's roommate, Minho  entered the living room. He looked well dressed in a leather jacket and chunky black boots. "Do you think Jisung will like the jacket?", he asked Felix.

"He's gonna love it", Felix replied, smirking.

“Alright, I gotta go”, Minho said, picking up his umbrella and walking to the door. He looked at you. “Sorry we couldn’t talk today, y/n, but have fun with your boyfriend”.

He was already out the door before either of you could protest. Felix looked at you awkwardly before turning back to the TV. Felix was not your boyfriend. And clearly he wasn’t very comfortable being called that. To be fair, neither were you.

 “I’m sorry about him”, he sighed. Both of you looked everywhere but each other.

“Don’t be," you said, “ I know people think we’re dating because we’re comfortable with each other and stuff.”

“Right. But hey, you’re my best friend and you always will be.”

You smiled. “You too”.

It was nice being best friends with Felix. Everytime you’ve been this close with someone, they all seemed to expect more. They all seemed to expect romance. But that just didn’t work for you. Romance was weird.

You’re my best friend and you always will be. 

Felix wouldn’t mind, would he? Probably not. But what if he’s mad you didn’t tell him yet? What if he thinks you don’t trust him? Or maybe his whole view on you will change and maybe he won’t like you after that. What if that happens?

You’re my best friend and you always will be. 

You’re his best friend and you always will be. It’ll be alright. It’ll be harder the longer you wait right? 

What if he really will be mad at you though? He’s your best friend, why haven’t you told him yet?

A mere few seconds passed before you shifted off his chest. Felix sat up, sensing your tension. He paused the movie. "Y/N?"

Fuck it. It’s too late to ignore this now. You looked into his eyes before turning away.  “I’ve been holding off on telling you something.”

Felix’s voice filled with concern. “Tell me.”

You took a breath, trying to keep yourself from panicking. You were too nervous to look at him. “Minho joked about us being together and I know neither of us see each other in a romantic way, but I just… I don’t know why I haven’t told you this yet. But… it’s not just you. I don’t feel romantic attraction to anyone. I’m aromantic.” 

Felix put his hand on your shoulder and moved closer to you. Your thoughts were still racing, your heart rate still high, your breath still shaky. You were still too nervous to look at him.

You kept going, “I haven’t told you this. I know. And I’m sorry. But you’re still my best friend and I hope you don’t think I don’t trust you or something. I love you, okay? I just… I guess I just don’t like coming out. But I just had to today for some reason. I’m sorry if this makes you view me differently.” You thoughts were still racing after you said what you wanted to say. Your hands shook slightly.

And Felix noticed all of that.

He put his hand on top of yours. “Y/N”, he said gently.

You hesitated, then looked at him. His eyes were warm. His smile was understanding - the smile of someone who’s done this before. The smile of someone who’s already dealt with the emotions you were having. He gently pushed your head back onto his chest. “Breathe with me.”

His chest raised as he took a breath. You closed your eyes and took a breath too. He let it out in a few seconds. So did you. He took in another breath. 

Felix spoke softly. “Coming out is hard. Even if it’s to someone you love. What you just did there takes so much courage. And I’m so, so proud of you. I love you so much. And our love doesn’t have to be romantic for it to be deep. I love you. And nothing will change that.”

You buried yourself in his chest.

 His chest rose and fell with every breath he took. You breathed with him. His heartbeat was calming. 

 I love you. And nothing will change that.

“Thank you.” you said. “For everything.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“Felix?”

“Yeah?”

“Is it weird?”, you said quietly, “That we’re always so close together? I really like being with you. And hugging you. And cuddling you. But I won’t do it if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“No. It’s not weird. Not to me. I love this. And we can do this all day long without it meaning anything more than friendship.” Felix gave you a forehead kiss. “Besides,” he said, “What good are best friends if they don’t give you hugs?”

You hugged him tighter. “I love you so much”

“I love you so much too.” His voice was warm and kind and understanding. You didn’t bother holding back the tears. 

Lee Felix was a sweet boy. And Lee Felix was the sun, giving you warmth and love and reasons to wake up. Lee Felix was a sweet boy. And the universe was a thing of beauty to let your love shine through.

a/n: this took a really long time to write bc of personal stuff im sorry, but this req made me realize i was aromantic skaskdlkdlk :’D. remember my requests are open so feel free to request stuff from me and i’ll try not to take eight years to do it. take care yall

[minghaocouture]

The Flower Path Grows Thorns: Chapter 3

Pairing: Vampire!Xu Minghao x Human! Reader Genre: Romance, Fantasy,  light Suspense, Non-Idol Au Warnings: Language, mentions of home invasion WC: 4.9K AU Info:  Lore Info/ Vampire Coven Info Tag List: @smthingabtlove​

A/N: So i restarted this chapter like 4 times because I just didn’t like how it was going. I’m a lot more satisfied with this! Also like to give a shout out to my bro in Discord, Writer Bot. The only reason I wrote this chapter instead of procrastinating it.

Chapter List: One//Two//Three

Jan. 25th, 2021

“So you’re…”

“A Vampire, yes. Should I show you my fangs to prove it?” 

The way he watched you, his brown eyes seemed to pierce right to your very core. It was unnerving, and it definitely wasn’t helping how panicked you already were. You had been brought to this bar for safety reasons. At least, that was what that woman-no that vampire, Soonhee, had told you. She said it would be safer in here than it would be out on the streets, or even at your apartment, and it would only get more dangerous for you as night fell.

“No, that’s fine. I’ve already seen enough to believe you,” You murmured, adjusting yourself on the rather stiff twin mattress you were sitting on. Taking a look around, you could tell that this room wasn’t used often. A fine layer of dust coated the furniture and packed boxes were scattered haphazardly around the room, almost as if they had just moved in. 

“Pretty lucky that Soonhee found you, huh?” The male mused, Soonhee said that his name was Minghao. He seemed so nonchalant about the whole situation, he probably didn’t even care if you lived or died. So why was he doing this? Why sit around and babysit you when he could be doing...whatever it was that vampires did when they weren’t terrorizing humans. 

The silence that followed his question felt like a weight crushing you, but you didn’t know what he wanted you to say. Yes you were lucky? If she hadn’t found you then you would have been dead once the sun set? The thought alone had you shaken to the core. Despite your silence, you refused to look away from the black haired male. The sinking fear that he would attack you lingered, despite Soonhee’s words. You were truly alone here.

“You don’t have to be scared of us.”

If you hadn’t been staring right at him and seen his lips move, you wouldn’t have believed that this man had just spoken to you. Once again, his eyes seemed to examine you taking in every detail of your tensed form. 

You don’t really know what came over you, but before you realized it you had stood from the bed. Eyes never leaving his, as your fists clenched in frustration.

“I don’t have to be scared of you?! How can you even say that!?” You knew that this outburst would get you nothing, but you were upset. Your whole world felt like it had been turned upside down. Yet here this man was, a man who only survived by drinking the blood of people like you, telling you that you had nothing to fear. “Just put yourself in my shoes for one second, and then tell me that again. I can’t trust anyone here, for all I know you all could be planning to kill me right now. If that was the plan then guess who wouldn’t know until it’s too late, oh right, that would be me!” 

Usually you were a pretty mild tempered person, you didn’t like conflict or yelling at people. This though, this was something entirely different. Right now you were terrified, nothing was certain and that uncertainty, that unknown aspect of this situation was terrifying. Not to mention that you had just found out that species other than humans existed. The stress of the situation was definitely getting to you.

Minghao didn’t seem phased by your outburst, he continued to simply lounge in the rather uncomfortable looking wooden chair. Once again an oppressive silence fell over the room as the two of you locked eyes. After a moment, he leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees with what looked like a smile on his face.

“Feel better?”

You raised a brow at the man, confused by his words before realizing that...yes you did actually feel a tiny bit better. Not great obviously, you were still extremely distressed, but the load seemed to have lightened ever so slightly. Silently, you nodded. His face brightened ever so slightly as he leaned back in the chair once more. 

“Holding things like that inside will just make you feel worse,” he explained, almost as if you were a child. Were you a child to him? A silence fell over the room as you stared at him, feeling a bit more at ease now...but only a little bit.

"Follow me." 

He didn't bother to wait for an answer from you before he stood from his chair and made his way towards the door. Simply stopping once he grabbed onto the door handle so that he could look back at you, an expectant look on his face. You were practically frozen, the shift in his attitude had you dumbstruck. Unsure of where he was planning on taking you but at the same time you didn't really have any reason to decline, you were already in danger no matter where you were. So you followed after him, down the stairs that you had climbed to enter their living quarters. Taking a right turn at the end of the stairs, entering the double doors that led to the bar. 

It wasn't all that crowded tonight, you noticed, it being a Monday night it wasn’t too surprising. You took a moment to look around, watching dancers out of the small designated area looking like they were having the time of their lives, the patrons at the bar, laughing jovially with their friends as they drank their liquor. The loud music thumped and had your heart beating in time with the bass, which was a feeling you weren't used to but one that you didn't hate. Snapping yourself out of your stupor you noticed you were losing Minghao, and quickly made your way over to him as he sat down in front of the bar and gestured for you to do the same. 

"You are legal right? We can't afford to lose our liquor license." You nodded, a bit confused as to why he was asking. This certainly wasn't the time to be drinking right? 

Apparently you were wrong.

"Hey, Junhui, can you get this one a screwdriver?" He called out, completely disregarding the fact that the male behind the counter was currently in a conversation with a customer. The man in question, Junhui apologized to the woman he was speaking to before he made his way over to Minghao. You assumed that this man was also a member of the coven that Soonhee had spoken to you about, her coven, and it had you wondering how all of their members were so beautiful. You were practically stunned by the blonde behind the bar, his black muscle tee was a little big on him but it hung in all the right ways and he was working those leather pants. 

"Thanks for that Hao!" He exclaimed, knowing that he wouldn't be heard over the music. "I thought I would never get away from her, you know how Joy gets when she drinks." Then his attention turned to you and his brows furrowed, obviously confused a bit by your appearance. The way your eyes probably screamed 'i've been crying' definitely was a cause for concern. He glanced back over at Minghao and raised a brow. 

"This is Y/N." Was all Minghao gave him and it surprised you and seemed to surprise Junhui as well. The man quickly got to work though, making the requested drink for you before sliding it across the bar. 

"So, what brings a little human into the bar and with Minghao no less?" You weren't too sure how to answer that, so you took a sip of the drink. The mix of orange juice and alcohol slid down your throat with ease, it was well mixed, which was something you had issues at with other bars in town. They would always make your drinks far too strong or too weak, this was nice. Before you could think of a proper response, Minghao spoke up again.

"I'm watching her. a favor for Soonhee."

"Soonhee??" His brows furrowed at the name, and he crossed his arms over his chest. "She's still on house arrest? Why couldn't she watch the Y/N herself? Or better yet, why does she need to watch over her in the first place?" The friendly face didn't seem as friendly anymore, obviously something was up. Something that you weren't privy to. This line of questioning had Minghao sighing once again, he seemed to sigh a lot. 

"It's a long story, but...she found a stray feeding. Soonhee thinks the stray is gonna come after y/n so she asked me to watch over her tonight while she tried to figure out a plan." Junhui's frown seemed to sink deeper the more Minghao spoke, brows furrowing in frustration. He leaned over the counter, closer to Minghao in an attempt not to be heard and he probably wouldn't have been had you not been sitting right next to Minghao. 

"She’s supposed to be on house arrest! We can’t afford for her to start another fight with that wolf pack."

"I gave her permission." Was all Minghao said in response, as if it was just that simple. It was Junhui's turn to sigh now, retreating back behind the counter and running a hand through his sandy brown hair. He gave Minghao a look that said ‘we’ll talk about this later’ before his attention returned to you and he smiled once again, trying to be calm when you knew that he had seemed furious just moments ago.

"Sorry, I'm sure this has been a rough day for you," he began, and you were almost surprised at the soft look held deep within his eyes. He seemed so kind hearted, unlike the other Vampires you had met. Which isn't to say that Soonhee and Minghao were bad but they just seemed a little more...rough around the edges. "Order anything you like, Minghao i'll watch over her. Can you go clean up the storage room so she has a place to sleep? We can't send her home if a stray is hunting her." 

Usually you would have immediately rejected the offer, not wanting to bother your hosts. This time was a different story, you certainly didn't feel safe returning home tonight. Your small apartment would do nothing to keep you safe from a Vampire if it decided to attack you. 

You watched as a silent debate seemed to begin between the two males, before Minghao relented and stood from his stool. He placed his hand on your shoulder, causing you to flinch a bit in surprise. 

"Just come back to the room if he gets to be too much." With that, he returned upstairs leaving you alone with this new man. You swallowed deeply, swirling the contents of your glass. As Junhui watched his friend leave, grumbling something under his breath about Minghao and Soonhee but you couldn't quite make anything out. With that, he turned back to you, that same friendly smile on his face.

"Let's try this again. It's nice to meet you y/n. I'm Junhui, most people just call me Jun."

***

Present day, May 4th, 2021

"Thanks for the water." You muttered, taking a sip of said liquid. You weren't quite sure how much time had passed since you had entered the room with Minghao. It had to have been at least an hour at this point if not longer. 

Your eyes returned to Minghao as he lounged on the second couch in the room, his arm resting over his eyes as he did so. It reminded you of the way models would pose, and once again you found yourself staring at him without even realizing it. 

"I would say take a picture, it'll last longer but that wouldn't really work in my case." He muttered, he almost sounded amused at you, as if he could feel your stares on his frame. Quickly you divert your attention to the water bottle in your hands, tugging at the label as you tried to distract yourself. 

You were surprised that he had given you anything, Soonhee had said that he was strict about not handing out snacks or other things to the attendees but when he had noticed the sweat dripping down your face, he proved her wrong. This night hadn't truly changed your opinion on Minghao, he still seemed pretty standoffish and almost rude but despite that you could tell that he was in fact kind. He had layers, what was it that Shrek said? He was like an onion. 

Shaking your head and swallowing your pride, you decided to speak up again. Despite how embarrassing the question was. 

"Are all Vampires as pretty as the members of your Coven?"

This question had Minghao's arm off of his eyes as he rolled over to stare at you, dumbfounded at the question. It was silent for a moment before the male's loud laughter filled the room. You were surprised to say the least, you had never really seen the male with any sort of extreme emotion. Just stages of mild amusement or irritation, never full out laughing. You had to admit that it wasn't a terrible sight to see, he seemed almost relaxed as he laughed. Tears welling at his eyes as he did so. He quickly wiped his eyes and sat up, a grin lingered on his lips. 

"No I've met some pretty ugly Vampires," he confessed. "Don't mention this to anyone, but once every few decades. The leaders of all the Covens in the country have to meet up for bullshit political reasons, and one year I had to stand in for Soonyoung. Let me tell you, the head of the Council is probably the ugliest man I've ever seen. Kind of an asshole as well, I'm not sure how Junhui kisses up to him like he does."  He seemed so amused as he recalled the incident with the High Council, and was laughing all over again. 

"Let's just say, i'm not allowed to stand in for Soonyoung again. He didn't like how...straight forward I was." 

"What did you say to him??"

Minghao shrugged, leaning back on the couch once again. "Just called him an outdated asshole who needed better fashion sense. That old man is younger than Junhui but somehow makes himself seem centuries older just because of his fashion choices. Give me five minutes to fix his wardrobe and he'd be a whole new man." 

This brought laughter to the two of you. It was nice, moments like this. Sure you joked around with your brother and your coworkers but you hadn't felt as at ease as you did right now. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that you were safe down here. Once you left this building, paranoia clung to you like a bad stench. It wasn't something you enjoyed living with.

After the laughter subsided, Minghao took his phone from the pocket of his pants to check the time. With a small sigh he stood, running his hand through his hair again, a habit you were slowly catching the more he did so.

"It's about 2 am, I should probably switch out with Junhui so that he can get his turn." 

The mention of leaving had that ever present sense of fear returning to you, but you said nothing about it. Simply grabbed your purse from the floor and stood, keeping a tight grip on the strap of the bag.

Minghao led you out of the room and back up the flight of stairs to the room that you had left Soonhee in. Now she was alone in the room though and almost looked as if she were about to fall asleep. As he passed, Minghao smacked the back of her head lightly and ignored the loud yelp that left her lips as he did so.

"Get back here and fight me like you mean it." She groaned, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. You were pretty surprised at how tired she seemed, from what you had been told and had observed on your own, this was the natural time for her to be awake. Yet here she was, barely able to keep her eyes open.

"Yeah sure, and then i'll have to deal with your dumb dog boyfriend being upset if I actually hurt you." He retorted, not turning back to look at her before he exited the room. Leaving Soonhee to curse irritation as he did so. You giggled a bit and gave her a small wave goodbye before you followed him through the door and back to the main bar area of the building. Figuring this was where you would part ways, you started to make a beeline for the door, only to have your wrist caught in his grasp as you tried to pass him and to be tugged back to his side.

"Junhui," he called. The male in question, turned his gaze away from his customer to face the end of the counter where Minghao was standing. "I'm taking this one home and I'll be back to cover for you in a bit." 

He was what? He hadn't mentioned that to you before, but just as you were about to protest Junhui gave him a thumbs up. Then you were being dragged out of the bar by your wrist. You practically tripped over your own feet as you tried to keep up with him. 

Once outside, he waved to Gahyeon as the two of you passed, paying no mind to the questioning look on her face. You shrugged when her gaze landed on you and then continued to follow after Minghao. He walked with confidence, as if he knew where he was going and you didn't stop him since thankfully he was headed in the right direction. 

It was silent between the two of you again as you walked, passing by other bars and clubs on the streets. Because of your awareness of the supernatural now, you could tell that a few of the people waiting to be let into these different places...weren't exactly human. It made you wonder how much the other races out populated your own, and how humans weren't extinct yet. As the club district slowly faded into the background, you finally had the nerve to speak up. 

"You didn't have to walk me home you know."

He shrugged, the moonlight shined down on him and made him almost seem like he was glowing. You found yourself thinking about how beautiful he was, definitely not a first for tonight. That was an embarrassing thought that you would have to come to terms with later. 

"It's late, and you were practically trembling when I mentioned the time."

"I could have just been cold?"

"You weren't." 

It was almost ridiculous how well he was able to read you, simply an open book in his hands. Trying to ignore the heat that had made its way to your cheeks, you grew silent once again. The only sounds that echoed through the night were that of your own footsteps and of the very few cars that passed down the street. 

You reached an intersection and he went to continue straight, when you should be turning. Instead of simply speaking to him, you decided to give him a taste of his own medicine. Reaching out and grabbing his wrist you dragged him down the correct street. You couldn't help but grin as you heard the small surprised noise he made. 

The rest of the walk continued in silence, and soon enough you found yourself in front of the door to your apartment. Taking out your keys you quickly unlocked the door before turning back to face him. 

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow?" This caused him to raise a brow, curious at your word. 

"Tomorrow?"

"I was planning on actually visiting the bar as a patron tomorrow. I've only been there for business so I wanted to actually go for fun." You explained, you were also wanting to see Soonhee again. You hadn't really sat down and spoke to her since January, so you wanted to make sure she was okay too. You were also curious about what Minghao had said to her in passing. 

The man in question nodded, face blank in his natural expression. It was in that moment you wished you could read him like he could read you. You were curious what could possibly be going on in his mind right now, but alas you weren't like him. You were just an ordinary human. 

After a moment, a small almost soft smile made its way to his face. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow then," With nothing more to say, he turned on his heel and began the walk back to the bar. 

Turning the knob to enter your apartment you let out a breath that you hadn't realized you had been holding in. Leaning against the wall so you could take off your shoes without falling over, you then made your way towards the kitchen to grab a glass of water before you went to bed. You had an early shift again tomorrow so you needed to get to sleep soon or you'd have trouble waking up. 

Grabbing your phone from your pocket as you took a drink from your glass, you checked the schedule to see who you would be working with tomorrow. It was a pretty small shop so it didn't have too many employees in the first place, but you had to admit you were pretty pleased to see that you worked with Hoseok again tomorrow. For a second you thought about inviting him to the bar with you, before you realized that you weren't sure if he was aware of the existence of the supernatural. It's not like you could just bring it up in conversation to ask either, since he would think you were crazy if he was unaware. 

Finishing your water you set your glass down in the sink and made your way towards your bedroom, flipping the light switch on so you could see. Only now, you wished that you hadn't. The room was just as you left it for the most part, but one thing stood out. A framed photo of you with your family lay resting on your pillow, as if someone had moved it from it's position on your dresser and placed it there. Your heart practically stopped as you stared at the photo in terror. 

How did it get there? There were no signs of forced entry in the house, and none of the windows had been left open. You grabbed the photo and quickly returned it to its position on your dresser before grabbing the baseball bat from under your bed that you kept around for self defense. 

All you could hear was the pounding of your heart as you made your way through the small apartment, throwing open every door to see if the intruder was still in your home. Not even the shower was off limits during your search. 

Finding the house to be empty of anyone besides yourself, you let out a breath of relief before collapsing on your couch in the living room. Anxiety filed your gut as you tried to think of what possible measures you could take tonight to protect yourself. You tried your best to quell the shaking in your hands, you couldn't panic right now or you definitely wouldn't feel safe enough to sleep. Standing once again, and taking the bat with you, you quickly got to work. 

Grabbing your pillow and blanket from your bedroom, you threw them haphazardly onto your couch. You figured it would be safer to sleep in there considering there was only one window as opposed to the three in your bedroom. After that your attention turned to the coffee table, you threw all the magazines and basically anything that was on top of the table onto the floor. Proceeding to lift the table and carry it down the hallway so that you could prop it in front of your bedroom door knob, if that was the way the intruder entered then he would have to shove the table out of the way to get into the hallway and the sound would wake you up. It wasn't much but it was all you could do, having nothing that you could put on the window in the living room. 

Taking your bat tightly in your grasp you lay down on the couch, to try and sleep for the night. 

***

"Hao! You're so late!" Junhui complained as Minghao returned to the bar, his lower lip jutted out into a pout as he crossed his arms over his chest. The male in question shrugged, climbing over the counter to take Jun's place. He had expected Junhui to leave right away, but he didn't. A look of concern had replaced the childlike pout on his features. 

"How did she do?"

"She was fine. We basically just stopped and went depending on how she felt." It wasn't all that big of a deal to Minghao, but he was curious as to Jun's interest. Knowing his friend's history, Junhui had sworn off getting close to humans, which was why it didn't surprise Minghao when Junhui got with a Winter Fae. It was simpler for him that way, less dangerous. Yet here he was, worrying about the well being of a human. 

He watched as Jun sighed in relief, a smile on his face once again. Slapping Minghao's back and a quick word of thanks was all the younger Vampire was given before Jun hopped the counter and bolted down the hall so that he could feed. Minghao rolled his eyes and got to work, helping the few customers that were sober enough to still order drinks. The rest of the night went by pretty smoothly and eventually it was time to shut down.

As Minghao began kicking out a few drunks, recognizing two of them as members of the wolf pack that Wonwoo belonged to, he saw the patrols finally returning. He almost found himself pouting as he realized that he would have to listen to their reports since Junhui had apparently just ditched him for the rest of the night, which was kind of annoying but to be expected. Junhui always needed some time to himself after feeding, it was just how it went. 

The reports from Yuna, Eunbi, and Hyunjin were pretty standard, Kevin's seemed to be a different story. He returned to the bar, blood dripping from a wound on his forehead and parts of his clothing were ripped, but he seemed pretty casual about it. Very Kevin-like attitude. Well if he wasn't worried about it then Minghao wouldn't worry either.

"So?" He questioned, watching as Kevin grabbed a clean rag from behind the counter to clean the blood with. 

"Well, guess who's back." He groaned, wincing a bit as he dabbed at his open wound. Well that was annoying, but it made sense. If he was tracking y/n then of course he would come back when you returned to town. Now though, Minghao had to decide if he was going to tell you. You were already on edge enough as it was without him telling you that you were in danger once again, the only thing that he found odd was that from what you had told him...you hadn't been attacked while you were outside of the town. So why did he wait until you came back to start causing trouble again?

"He has friends this time. Remember that Coven of Strays he mentioned? Well they aren’t just stray Vampires, let me tell you. We had some Fae, we had some wolves. It sucked when they tried to jump me but I ran like hell to get away. No way am I taking on strays, wolves, and fae by myself. I ain't stupid." Minghao didn't think he would ever get used to Kevin's way of speaking, but at least it was funny most of the time. This time, not so much. 

It had been one thing for a single stray to be in the town, but having 6 of them wandering around. Well that was a different story. He'd probably need to call Soonyoung and see if their leader could come back to help run recon, it would be much easier if he was actually around. 

"Glad you made it back alive, have Yuna patch you up and then go and get some rest."  Minghao was grateful that Kevin had fed before going out tonight or it probably would have been a bit herder for the male to get away.

At his elder's words, Kevin turned to head upstairs and Minghao got to work once more. After he was sure that there were no more patrons, he quickly locked up the building and began the irritatingly long process of cleaning up for the night. As he did, he pulled his phone out and used his speed dial to call Soonyoung. The line rang for quite a while and Minghao was almost certain that the man wasn't going to pick up, which would have made his job a lot more annoying. To his surprise though, he was greeted with the familiar loud voice of one Kwon Soonyoung. 

"Hao! You never call me!" He exclaimed, and Minghao could practically see the bright grin that his elder would be wearing. It exhausted him just to think about how much energy his Venture had. "Usually I only hear from Jun!"

"You’d hear from me more if you were ever around, but that’s not why I’m calling. I've got some news," he began, as he spoke he pulled the broom out of the storage closet and began sweeping slowly. He wouldn't be able to seriously start cleaning until he was off the phone but he needed to at least start it. "We have a situation and we might need you back from....wherever the hell you are."

[write-havoc]

The Glasswing Butterfly Part 19

Summary: Chuck has never thought of herself as anything special. Just an average beta living her life next door to a womanizing alpha named Negan. But her life, and Negan’s too, are turned upside down when Chuck suddenly presents as omega.

This is a non-zombie AU featuring A/B/O dynamics.

Fandom: The Walking Dead AU

Pairing: Negan/Original Female Character

Status: Ongoing

Contains: swearing, smut

Intended for readers 18+ of age only

Masterlist in my bio

Almost a week later, Chuck goes into heat, which is somewhat of a relief to the couple. Not only does it mean that they won’t have to worry about being surprised by it coming during the fast approaching wedding or honeymoon, but it also means that Chuck’s cycle is finally getting regular. Now, they’ll be able to anticipate with certainty when they will have to take time off to deal with their heat/rut, which is far more convenient than scrambling to get ready at the last minute.

Partway through her heat, they get into the new box of omega condoms that Negan had picked up from the pharmacy beforehand. Even though their raging hormones make their rational brains take a backseat to their instincts, using the condoms correctly is more like muscle memory to them at this point. They always make sure to have one in place before they let their bodies do what they want to do, with no incidents to date. 

If their minds hadn’t been foggy from their heat/rut, however, they would have noticed something was wrong. That realization doesn’t materialize until they start to come out of their cycle, when their upstairs brains start to wake back up.

Negan’s knot goes down enough to, once again, pull out and he lays down beside Chuck with a sigh. Their breaths are labored as the dwindling hormones in their systems make way for fatigue to set in.

“Shit, baby,” Negan breathes out then whistles lowly. “Fuck.”

Chuck giggles airily. “Yup,” she agrees with a lazy smile on her face. 

“You okay?”

She looks over to him, but doesn’t answer. Instead, she lets out a chuckle.

“What?” he asks with his brows furrowed. 

“Whenever you start to come back down from your rut, the first thing you do is ask if I’m alright.”

He scoffs a bit, but pulls her into his side. “I guess I’m just worried that my alpha doesn’t think about that shit. It always feels like he’s got a fuckin’ one track mind.”

She laughs. “He does. But he wouldn’t hurt me. I trust you no matter what. Even if your alpha is in control.”

They stay cuddled up together for a few minutes, taking a much needed breather and basking in the touch of one another. The serenity of the moment is only broken by Chuck’s empty stomach making itself known with a loud growl. Even though she can feel her heat waning, she knows she probably doesn’t have too much time before a final round of cramps hits her. 

Negan knows all this, too, being used to the routine by now. “Let me clean you up. Then I’ll make you some actual fuckin’ food. Instead of those protein bars we’ve been shoving in our faces between fuck sessions. I think we have the time.”

Chuck turns over into her back to go through the practiced motion like she has a million times before, with Negan taking up his role. He kneels between her spread legs and ties off the omega condom to make sure all of the mess inside is properly contained. It’s not until he fully pulls it out that he realizes that something’s wrong. 

“Shit,” he gasps once he realizes that the familiar substance now dripping through his fingers means only one thing. The condom had failed at some point. 

“What?” Chuck asks as she sits up to lean on her elbows. 

Negan is shocked, wide eyed for a moment before he answers. “The goddamned thing ripped.”

“ What ?!” She shoots forward to see what he’s talking about. “What do you mean ‘ ripped ’?”

He holds it out to her so she can see for herself. Sure enough, the one end has a very pronounced hole in it. 

“Oh my god,” she spits out. “Wh- Did- It’s-“ she stutters as her brain short circuits. “Did you put it in wrong?” she finally settles on.

“I don’t fuckin’ think so. I mean, I haven’t put one in wrong before so I don’t know why I fuckin’ would now. And it’s not like it slipped out. There’s a fuckin’ hole .”

“Oh my god, Negan.” She looks at him as she tries to center her thoughts. “Do you think it... you know...”

Despite her vagueness, he figures out what she’s trying to say. “Yeah. My shit got up in there.”

She lets that sink in only a moment before she calls out, “Oh my god. How did this happen? We got a defective one?!”

He thinks on that a second. Sure, it’s possible, but not too likely. Quality control, and all that. Then the memory of everything that happened in the pharmacy several days prior pushes itself to the forefront and Negan gets a very bad feeling about all this. 

“Fuck!” He angrily jumps up to dispose of the condom in the little waste basket near the bed like he has done numerous times over the last few days. As he does, his growing suspicions are all but confirmed as he spies the mess in the bottom of the trash bag. 

“What?” She sits up further, eyes trained on Negan as he stares intently down at the garbage. 

From what he sees in the bag, it’s clear that several of the other condoms they used had also ripped, though he hadn’t had the wherewithal to notice before now. “That motherfucker!” he yells, his mind made up on what surely had happened. “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill him!”

Chuck recognizes the rage crossing his face, made all the worse by his rut, but she’s not sure where it’s coming from. “What?” she calls out, trying to get his attention. “What’s going on?”

“That fuckin’ pharmacist-“ he drags his hand down his face as he lets out a heavy breath. “The fuckin’ douche bag pharmacist was the one that filled our last goddamn prescription. I didn’t fuckin’ think much about it, but I guaran-fuckin’- tee that he fucked with those.” He throws his finger down to the trash can to indicate what he means. 

Chuck is gobsmacked. Would a pharmacist really do that? “Are you sure?”

“All of them are fuckin’ broke, Chuck,” he bites back. 

“ All of them?!” She jumps out of bed to see for herself. One look confirms Negan is right. Maybe not all of them failed, but a good number did. Certainly all of the new ones. And definitely more than could be considered a random defect. “Oh my god. We’ve been-“ The realization hits her even harder. This isn’t just one accident that maybe, possibly wouldn’t amount to anything. They’ve essentially been having unprotected sex for the duration of her heat. Or at least most of it. “Oh my god.”

“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill him.” Negan starts to root around the room for any clothes that he can throw on. But he doesn’t make it too far before Chuck clutches her abdomen as a cramp hits her. 

“Negan,” she hisses at the pain. It’s not as intense as it was earlier in her heat, but it’s still uncomfortable. “You can’t leave me yet.”

“Shit,” he mutters as his anger melts away and his duty to his mate takes priority. “Fuckin’ Christ.”

Without another word, the couple crawls back onto the bed to finish out their cycle, though this time, they don’t bother with the most likely tampered-with prophylactics. They figure what’s the use now anyway.

It’s not until the next day before they’re completely back to their normal selves. Negan still wants to confront the pharmacist, with guns blazing, but Chuck convinces him that would be a bad idea.

“They’d take you to jail,” she explains. “And I really don’t want that.”

“Goddamnit,” he hisses. “I just wanna cave that stupid fucker’s face in.”

“Yeah. I know. I kinda do, too.”

“Then what the fuck do we do?” he responds with his arms outstretched, as if he were asking the universe. “Because I sure as fuck don’t want that prick getting away with this shit.”

Chuck thinks it over for a moment. She can appreciate where Negan is coming from; she feels the same way. But retribution rarely comes cleanly.

“I don’t know.” She picks up her phone and clicks on a familiar contact. “I’m gonna call Michonne. She what she says. Maybe we can get him arrested.”

“Kicking the shit outta him seems like a better idea,” he mutters under his breath.

Thankfully, Michonne picks up and, after Chuck briefly explains the situation, says she can stop by a little later on to discuss things with them. Once midday hits, the familiar sight of Rick’s police car pulling into the driveway leads to a sigh of relief from Chuck. The day had been a tense one and she hopes speaking with Rick and Michonne will help at least a little bit.

Before the guests can even knock, Negan jumps up and swings the door open. He’s been on edge all day, dealing with this in a completely different way than Chuck. While he’s been pacing and muttering angrily to himself about getting back at the pharmacist, she’s been curled up on the couch, biting her nails and trying (but failing) to keep her attention on whatever tv show she has it tuned to. Despite those techniques, it doesn’t stop her mind from repeatedly going over everything, spiking her anxiety.

Neither of them have really talked to each other too much about what happened, either. Negan is too preoccupied with feelings of revenge and retribution to allow himself to drift off into thinking about what this all means for them as a couple. And Chuck is just trying to avoid that subject all together, knowing that she’s close to a panic attack as it is. 

In lieu of a greeting to their neighbors, Negan calls out, “Tell me I can legally beat that motherfucker to a pulp.” 

Michonne, followed by Rick, shakes her head as she enters the living room. “You can’t do that, Negan. Just tell me everything in detail and we can go from there.”

As they all take their seats, Negan starts to explain in his usual colorful way. “The one pharmacist in town is an old timey bigot. He fuckin’ refused to give us our rubbers, saying it was against his goddamn beliefs.” He lets out a huff. “The younger pharmacist would always fill the prescription, so I just avoided the old fuckin’ prick. Anyway, the last time I was there, the douchebag old ass motherfucker had actually filled the prescription and I didn’t really think much about it. But judging from the trash bag of broken condoms upstairs, I’d say the fuckin’ evidence is pretty clear that he fuckin’ poked holes in them or some shit.”

Chuck can’t help but be mortified with all this. Even though she trusts Rick and Michonne, the subject matter still has her face turning beet red.

“Wait. Broken ?” Michonne asks. “So you used them?”

“I was in rut. I didn’t have the mind to fuckin’ inspect them. We didn’t realize shit went south until after...” Negan explains. “I can show you the trash, if you really wanna see my cum leaked out of all of them.”

Michonne raises her hands to stop him, wanting very much not to see that. “No. That’s not necessary.”

“There’s still some unused ones, too,” Chuck adds. “They do have holes in them. We checked.”

Michonne looks to Rick before turning back to Negan. “Honestly... and I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but I don’t think we can do much about this.”

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?!” Negan is quick to call out. “We have the fuckin’ evidence, plain as day! So it’s perfectly legal for him to tamper with that shit?!”

“No. It’s not legal. At all. But...” Michonne takes a slow breath. “I just mean that it probably isn’t worth it to take it to court.”

Chuck jumps in before Negan can fly off the handle, knowing that he probably would. “Why not?”

“I know this is tough to hear, but I don’t think the outcome would be in your favor. Rick can arrest the guy, but actually winning in court is another thing. All the other side would have to say was that you were trying to get this pharmacist fired because of his religious view; that you tampered with the condoms yourself. And unless we got a judge sympathetic to alphas and omegas- which are few and far between- they’ll dismiss it. And you’d be on the hook for court fees.”

“You worked your magic getting me off of a goddamn murder charge,” Negan calls out. “I’d think that’d be harder than this shit.”

“That was different,” Michonne says softly. “It was an alpha protecting his omega against another alpha. There’s legal precedent for that. This... there’s actually legal precedent against you. The pharmacist has a right to refuse to fill a prescription. And I’m assuming you made your anger known publicly about that fact at least once. The defense would need just one witness to testify to that and your credibility would go out the window.”

“That’s bullshit !” Negan jumps up and starts to pace the room as his anger rises. “We did nothing wrong! I’m not gonna let that old ass prick fuck with us!”

Rick stands slowly and holds his hands up to Negan, fully aware that even though the alpha isn’t in rut anymore, he can still be dangerous this soon after it. “You need to calm down-“

“Calm down?!” Negan bites back. “You realize how much this guy fucked with our lives, right?” He flings his arm out in Chuck’s direction. “Odds are she’s pregnant. And we aren’t ready for that shit!”

For the first time, one of them had said those specific words out loud, the subject they’ve been glossing over. It makes a silence descend over the room as they take in the weight of it all. Eyes flick around awkwardly, but never focus for too long on either of the occupants of the house for fear of what their reaction might be. 

After a moment, Michonne stands as well, hoping to de-escalate things. “What the pharmacist did was a violation. And highly unethical. In a perfect world, he would be held criminally accountable for everything he’s done. But we’re not in a perfect world. Prejudice exists. Bigotry exists. Unfortunately, cases like this aren’t that rare. And they usually don’t work out for people like you.” She tentatively lays her hand on Negan’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.” She looks over to Chuck. “If you really want to pursue it, I will try my best-“

“Don’t bother,” Chuck cuts her off dejectedly. “You’re right. And I don’t want to go through anything public. Not again.”

Negan shoots his mate a look. “What? He needs to fuckin’ pay! We should fight him, tooth and fuckin’ nail!”

“I don’t want to, Negan,” she responds pleadingly. “It’ll go public and everything would start up again if we do this. We still get reporters calling us every once in a while asking about the attack and the true mates stuff. I don’t want people following us like before. They’re just starting to forget about us.”

Negan looks at her for a moment before letting out a sigh. “Fine,” he concedes for Chuck. He knows if he’s selfish in this, she’ll be the one getting hurt in the end. “We can drop it.”

“Can we not tell anyone about this?” she pleads with him. Even though they have nothing to be ashamed about in this, she’s still embarrassed by it. “Especially not my mom. She’ll freak out.”

He nods and lets out a soft “Okay.”

“I am really sorry,” Michonne reiterates. “It’s a tough situation.”

Negan gives both her and Rick a look. “Yeah. Ain’t your fault things are shitty for us.” He lets out a heavy breath. “Thanks for coming over anyway. Even if it was a waste of fuckin’ time.”

Rick nods to his friend then starts to walk to the door to make his exit. “Call if you need anything.”

Negan follows the couple to the door to see them out. After closing the door behind them, he turns to lean his back on it. “Fuck,” he breathes out, trying to make sense of things. He takes a moment to drag his hands own his face before moving back to sit beside Chuck on the couch. “You alright?”

She nods weakly, but doesn’t say a word. Internally, though, she’s freaking out about everything.

Negan sees through her facade easily. “You sure?” he prods.

“We really aren’t ready for this, are we?” she repeats his words, though coming from her mouth, they’re quiet and weak.

He hadn’t even realized that that’s what he had said, but now that she’s said it, too, there’s no denying it. “I... I don’t know,” he answers honestly. It’s now that he realizes that he really hasn’t been paying attention to her in all this, having been wrapped up in his own emotions. He pulls her into his side and gives her a squeeze, hoping that she knows that he’ll be there for her.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” she almost whispers.

Her vague words make his heart drop. Does she mean a pregnancy? Or their whole relationship? “What are you saying?”

“I don’t know if I’m gonna be a good mother,” she answers quietly.

He gives a small sigh of relief that she isn’t calling off the wedding. “Of course you will be. Why would you think you wouldn’t be?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never really been around kids. Babies especially.”

“No parents know what the fuck they’re doing until they do. You don’t gotta worry about that shit.”

She looks up to him. “Do you want this, though? Now?”

He thinks a second. Even if he’s not sure if he’s ready, he knows that he’s always wanted children. “Yeah. I guess I do. I’m not fuckin’ happy how it came about, but I’m gonna love the shit outta our kids no matter what.”

Giving him a soft smile, she says, “I guess the universe decided we needed to get started on the baby train sooner rather than later.” She laughs a little, trying to make a joke to lessen the severity of the situation. “Pregnancy freaks me out, though. It’s like Alien. Some living thing all wiggling around in your belly.” She gives a little shrug. “I’ve never been broody.”

“Well, there’s no use freaking out about it right now, I guess. You’re probably not really even knocked up yet. It takes a few fuckin’ days for shit to settle.”

“Yeah.” She scratches at her head, trying to remember her old health class and what she learned about gestation and reproduction. “Should we take a test just to be sure? You know, when it’ll actually show up on a test. In, what, two or three weeks?”

“We’ll be on our honeymoon, baby girl,” he reminds her. 

“Oh, yeah.” She honestly hadn’t even been thinking about that with everything that happened.

“We’ll take one when we get back. Then we’ll call the doc and set shit up. We never did see if there was an omega doctor any closer to us than Dr. Bailey since we fuckin’ moved.”

“I don’t want a different doctor. I like her.”

Negan nods, though he doesn’t bring up that the thought of Chuck’s doctor being an hour’s drive away brings him some anxiety. “Alright. We’ll stay with the doc.”

Chuck nods then lets out a deep breath. “This is really happening...”

“You know what,” he squeezes her close again, “why don’t we just put all this shit out of our minds. Give us a little fuckin’ time to breathe. Focus on the wedding and honeymoon and shit.”

“Yeah.” She turns her head to look at him and gives him a soft smile. “That sounds good.”

 A little over two weeks later, Chuck and Negan wake up to a beautiful, sunny day. Before she even gets the chance to fully open her eyes, Negan pulls her close to his chest and lays a soft kiss on her crown.

“You ready to be my Mrs. today?” he whispers into her ear.

She giggles, though it’s lazy with sleep. “Is that today?” she jokes.

His chest rumbles against her back with a laugh. “Oh, you forgot ?”

“Guess it wasn’t important enough to remember,” she continues the joke.

He pulls her over so she’s underneath him. “I’ll show you important .”

As he leans down to give her a kiss, she takes a quick look at the clock. “Negan-“ she pushes him away. “We don’t have time. My mom’s supposed to be here in a half hour. Which means she’ll probably be here any minute.”

Groaning, he rests his head on her shoulder. “Fine.” He lifts back up to look down at her. “I’ll just have to show you tonight,” he comments with a waggle of his brows.

“I’m sure you will.”

Chuck was right in thinking that Diane would show up early. As soon as the couple walks down the stairs, there’s a knock on the door.

“You guys better be up!” Diane shouts through the door. “We have a lot to do!”

As Negan goes into the kitchen to start the coffee, Chuck rushes over to the door, opening it for her mother. “We’re up,” she responds once she sees her.

Diane walks right in. “You’re not dressed.”

Chuck looks down at her kitty cat night shirt. “We just got up,” she clarifies.

Diane looks around, not seeing the man of the house. “Tell me Negan isn’t naked or something.”

Chuck laughs. “He’s got pajama pants on.” She nods toward the kitchen. “He’s in there. Did you eat breakfast?”

“I had some toast before I left,” Diane answers. “I’m too excited to eat.”

“Negan’ll make us something.” Chuck turns toward the kitchen. “You need to eat. I don’t want you passing out during the ceremony.”

Diane gives her a look. “I’m supposed to be the one doing the mothering, not you.”

Though Diane meant it as a light joke, it causes Chuck to take in a sharp breath, making her choke on her own spit. Even though she and Negan had decided to put the baby talk off until after the honeymoon, it’s still in the back of her mind. 

“You okay, sweetie,” Diane calls out as she pats her daughter on the back.

“Yeah,” she sputters. “I’m just an idiot, swallowed down the wrong hole.”

Thankfully, Diane doesn’t question it and they go into the kitchen to meet Negan, who’s already at the stove.

“Are you making enough for Mom?” Chuck asks.

“I can put a couple more eggs on,” he throws over his shoulder as he breaks an egg over the frying pan.

After breakfast, the trio starts to decorate the backyard for the wedding. Aaron comes around not long after they start to lend a hand as well. It doesn't take too long, but by the end, they’re all happy with how things look. 

They have enough chairs set up for the few guests they have coming, all covered in matching fabric to hide the fact that they’re everyday folding chairs. Crepe paper flowers and candles decorate the two picnic tables that everyone will eat at during the reception and real flower petals are strewn across the ground. It may not be the most lavish setting for a wedding, but it’s perfect for Chuck and Negan.

With that done, it’s time to get dressed. To keep Negan from seeing Chuck early (which Diane insisted upon), he and Aaron head over to Rick’s house while Michonne comes over to lend a hand in getting Chuck ready.

“Oh, I like your dress,” Michonne comments once she sees the garment hanging on Chuck’s bedroom door.

“It’s not exactly a traditional one, but I liked it,” Chuck says with a shrug.

Michonne lifts the knee length skirt up a little, inspecting it. The white tulle under the champagne lace overlay gives it some volume, but it’s not too poofy. “I wouldn’t want one of those princess dresses, either.”

“Are you and Rick thinking about tying the knot?” Diane asks casually as she continues to pin up Chuck’s curls into something that looks more structured than anything she could do herself.

“No plans yet. But we’re happy.” Michonne gives her a dreamy smile, which Diane interprets as meaning that she’s actually thought about marriage at least once before.

After some time and with Chuck mostly dressed, the women are interrupted by the doorbell.

“I’ll run downstairs and get that,” Diane calls out. “It’s probably Dr. Bailey.”

Once she leaves the room, Chuck turns to Michonne. “She’s my omega doctor,” she explains to the beta. “She’s like the only other guest coming,” she says with a laugh then adds, “minus Simon.”

It’s actually the latter that has knocked on the door, as Diane finds out once she opens it. “Oh, hello,” she calls out in surprise as she spies the unfamiliar alpha on the doorstep. Chuck’s description of “tall, with a seventies porno stache” seems a lot more accurate than Diane assumed it would be. “You must be Negan’s friend.”

“Simon,” he provides then gives the beta before him a smile. “You must be Chuck’s mom.” He holds his hand out in a polite gesture. 

She accepts his handshake and can’t help but smile back at him. She’s never been one to look at an alpha twice (in a serious manner, anyway), but she finds herself oddly attracted to this one. “I’m Diane.” Before she can invite the man in, another car pulls up to the curb, drawing her attention.

Simon tears his gaze away from the attractive beta before him and looks over his shoulder to see what she sees. “Another guest?”

“The other guest,” Diane replies with a little laugh. “Excluding Rick’s family who’s helping out, of course. Chuck and Negan didn’t exactly invite a lot of people.”

“So you’re saying I should be flattered I got an invite.” He looks back to Diane with a mischievous smirk.

“I suppose you should,” she throws back easily then moves past Simon to greet Dr. Bailey and her husband. “Dr. Bailey,” she calls out cheerily.

“You can call me Leah outside of the office,” the doctor replies as she walks toward Diane. “And this is my husband Joe.”

“Nice to meet you.” Diane turns back and gestures to the door. “We can go through here to the back yard. The ceremony will start in a little bit. Whenever Negan gets here.”

Over at Rick’s, the men all get dressed for the ceremony. Negan had gotten himself a tailored tuxedo, though he foregoes putting on the tie, opting to leave the first few buttons of his shirt open. The other men there, Rick, Aaron, and Carl, are all sporting more casual outfits, but they’re still appropriately nice for a wedding.

As they wait for the time to go back to Negan’s, they all sit in Rick’s living room, drinking beers (minus Carl, who is playing video games in his room.)

“So,” Rick starts after taking a sip from his bottle, “I’m planning on buying Michonne a ring.”

Negan claps him on the back. “Congrats, man. Provided she actually says yes to your goofy lookin’ ass.”

Aaron jumps in. “Of course she will, Rick. Don’t listen to him.”

“I never do.” He laughs. “But it is weird. Going through this all again, for a second time.”

Negan nods, knowing what he’s talking about. “You never fuckin’ think the first marriage will be the first one until there’s a second. Shit, I never thought I’d do it again.”

Aaron nods at that, though there is a sadness behind it.

As Rick looks at the two men, he realizes that they’ve all had first ones, though his was the only one that ended in divorce. “Shit, guys. I’m sorry. I’m an asshole. I didn’t mean to-“

Aaron is quick to shut him down. “No, no. Don’t worry about it. It’s ok.” He gives him a soft smile. “It’s been... nine months since Eric died,” he comments.

“Fuck,” Negan says under his breath. “I can’t believe it’s been that long already.”

“Yeah,” Aaron replies with a nod. “Diane’s been telling me to get back in the dating scene again. I’ve been talking to this guy. But... I don’t know about dating .” He shrugs a shoulder. “Like Diane’s one to talk. She hasn’t been on a date in twenty years.”

Negan points the lip of his bottle to Aaron. “You just gotta do you. If you’re ready to stick your dick in someone else, go for it. If not,” he shrugs, “then don’t.”

“Thanks, Negan,” Aaron says dryly. “Very eloquent.”

“You’re welcome,” he calls back with a wink.

With a slew of stomps coming from the stairs, Carl makes his appearance to the ground floor.

“Jesus Christ, kid,” Negan calls out. “You sound like a herd of goddamn elephants.”

Carl just shrugs with teenage nonchalance, but Rick laughs. “Michonne gets on him all the time for running down the stairs.”

“Shit, I would not want to be on the opposite side of a Michonne lecture,” Negan says genuinely. “She’s fuckin’ intense.”

Carl shrugs again, his teenage overconfidence is unmoved by anything Negan has to say. “Isn’t it time to go, yet.”

Negan looks at his watch. “Yeah, probably.” He gets up and downs the rest of his beer. “Let’s get this shit on the road.”

Negan and his entourage walk the short distance over to Negan’s house and go right to the back yard. They’re met by Diane, the Baileys, and Simon sat around the fire pit having a casual discussion.

“I’m a little surprised to see another alpha here,” Dr. Bailey, or Leah since she’s off the clock, says to Simon.

The man just shrugs. “I can’t say I have a ton of alpha friends.” He turns his head to the arrivals. “Negan’s alright, I guess,” he jokes.

“The fuck you mean ‘alright’?” Negan calls back. “I’m the shit.”

Everyone laughs at Negan’s over-the-top demeanor. Diane isn’t about to let his ego go unchecked though.

“Yeah, yeah,” she jokes as she starts to stand. “So you think.”

Negan doesn’t take it to heart, knowing the woman well enough to see that she’s being lighthearted. “Damn right,” he says with a chuckle.

“Chucky about ready?” Aaron jumps in.

“I was just going to check,” Diane answers already on her way to the door.

Just a few moments later, Diane returns (with Michonne in tow), signaling that everyone should take their seats. Negan and Aaron walk up front to take their positions, everyone waiting  for the bride to make her appearance.

Chuck waits a few moments at the back door, taking a deep breath to settle her nerves. Even though everyone out there is close to her, her innate social anxiety is making itself known by quickening her heart rate.

“Okay,” she breathes out. “Here we go.”

She slides the door open and starts to walk outside, remembering not to walk too quickly like her mother told her. Her eyes instantly travel past the standing guests facing her along the sides and to the man in the middle. 

Once Negan first spies his mate walking toward him, looking beautiful in white, his face breaks out in the biggest grin. “Ho-ly shit ,” he says to himself, his eyes prickling with happy tears. “Fuckin’ beautiful.”

Chuck giggles at his reaction as she continues down their makeshift aisle, her own tears of joy welling up. Negan was always the most handsome man she’s ever met, but somehow he’s managed to be even more so today.

As she takes her position facing Negan, he grabs one of her hands, holding it gently in his own. “You look gorgeous,” he whispers to her and swipes the tear tracking down her cheek with his free hand.

“Not so bad yourself,” she replies with a chuckle.

With everyone now seated, Aaron takes his place behind the couple. “So,” he clears his throat. “I guess I’m supposed to officiate this thing. I, uh,” he chuckles to himself, “I did some research into the traditional mating ceremony, thinking maybe I should do something like that. But I decided maybe we shouldn’t go in that direction.”

“Thank fuck,” Negan pipes up, causing everyone to laugh. “That shit’ll make everyone want to blow their brains out.”

Aaron chuckles before continuing. “It was beautiful, the ceremony,” he says diplomatically, “but I felt it wasn’t right for you guys. It focuses on the couple coming together, preordained, to make ‘the pack’ stronger. The group is more important than its members, it seems.” He looks to Negan, hoping he hasn’t missed the mark completely with all this. When Negan doesn’t give him that telltale “I’m pissed” look, Aaron figures he’s doing well enough.

So he continues. “I researched regular- beta ,” he corrects himself, “marriage ceremony. But that wasn’t right, either. It’s more about duty to one another. Choosing a person to care for and love for the rest of your days.

“We know you guys have always been a little different. So I’m going to take a little bit from both worlds. I really liked the way the mating ceremony described the wedding ring,” he pauses, “so I blatantly plagiarized it.” Everyone chuckles as he puts his hand in his pocket and produces the two rings Negan had given him earlier. “By their very name, the alpha comes first and the omega, last. But when they come together, they form a ring,” he holds the white gold jewelry up to everyone, “and the start and the end aren’t obvious. But if they were to separate, the ring would lose all integrity. Only when they are one, is when they’re most strong.”

Aaron hand the rings to Chuck and Negan. “We’re skipping over the fact that it’s usually only the alpha that gets the ring, since omegas have their mark. But since this is a combined wedding, you both have rings. And, of course, we’re doing the beta ‘I do’s. So...” He turns to Negan. “Do you vow to love, honor, and cherish Chuck, in sickness and in heath, for all of your days?”

Negan gives his bride a smile and answers, “Fuck yes, I do.” As everyone chuckles at his words, he places the ring on her delicate finger.

“And you, Chuck?” Aaron continues. “Do you vow to love, honor, and cherish Negan, in sickness and in health, for all of your days?”

She looks back to the man in front of her, the man that’s changed her life for the better, the man that’s made her feel things she never felt possible, and responds, “Yes. I do.” Though her words are soft and choked with emotion, they reach everyone’s straining ears.

Aaron clears his throat and wipes his own eye before saying, “by the powers vested to be by... well no one, I guess,” he jokes, “I now pronounce you husband and wife. And true mates,” he adds with a smile then looks at Negan, “You may now... tastefully ,” he stresses, “kiss your bride.”

The couple looks at each other for only a moment before leaning forward and kissing in a perfectly appropriate way. Even though Negan thinks that it would be hilarious to plant a scorching hot kiss on his new wife, he thinks better of it, knowing it would embarrass her in front of her family.

Negan grabs ahold of Chuck’s hand and thrusts it up in the air. “Let’s fuckin’ party!”

The reception isn’t so much a raucous bash, but a summer backyard barbecue. Negan mans the grill, cooking burgers, hot dogs, and chicken. With the small group of people, it doesn’t take too long to fill everyone’s plates. As everyone sits at the picnic tables to eat their dinners, conversation flows easily.

“That was a beautiful ceremony,” Leah comments.

Aaron chuckles. “I’m sure it wasn’t like the weddings you’re used to.”

The doctor shrugs. “I liked it. Short and sweet,” she replies with a smile.

“You did good.” Negan leans over and claps Aaron on the shoulder. “Uncle Aaron,” he tacks on with a smirk.

Aaron shakes his head. “Don’t call me that,” he calls back, not really angry. “You’re older than me.”

“Eh.” Negan shrugs a shoulder. “You know I’m still gonna fuckin’ do it.”

“Yeah, I know,” Aaron resigns. “You like to be difficult,”’ he jokes.

“You have no idea,” Chuck chimes in.

Negan swivels his head to face her. “You regretting this already?” he jests.

“Totally,” Chuck calls back quickly.

Negan just laughs, knowing Chuck’s sense of humor. “You’re stuck with me now, sweetheart.”

As far as wedding receptions go, it’s fairly mild. After their meal, an impromptu bar is set up on the porch. But instead of the liquor flowing freely, it more trickles. No one in the group is that big of a drinker typically. Chuck, of course, abstains, but that’s not really unusual and doesn’t raise any suspicion. Some mixed drinks are made, but certainly not enough to empty the few bottles that Negan had bought for the occasion. The beer goes better, but no one really over indulges. Simon drinks the most out of everyone, but having owned a bar for years, he can hold his liquor.

Dr. Bailey and her husband are the first to leave, since they have a long drive ahead of them. Then Carl, of course, as the event isn’t suited to keep a teenager’s attention very well. As night falls, everyone else gathers around the fire pit to enjoy the mild weather and the friendly company. 

After several minutes of conversation with Rick, Michonne, and Aaron, Negan nudges Chuck and points to where Simon and Diane are sitting by each other. “They look fuckin’ cozy,” he whispers in her ear.

Chuck turns just in time to see her mother laugh out loud at something Simon had said. “Oh god,” she says as she picks up on what Negan was saying. The pair is sitting close to each other, Simon with his hand resting on the back of Diane’s chair and her with her crossed legs angled toward him. “It’s so weird to see my mom flirting. I kinda hate it.”

“Aw, come on. You don’t want them to get their fuck on in the guest room tonight?”

Chuck whips her head around to glare at her husband. “Why would you say that?!” She lets out a shiver and groans. “Gross.”

“Well, they’re sleeping under our roof tonight so... it could fuckin’ happen.”

“Ugh!” She swats at his chest. “What is wrong with you?! Don’t even joke about that! Scar me for life,” she mutters under her breath.

Once Rick and Michonne leave, Chuck and Negan, along with their extended family of Diane, Aaron, and Simon, head inside to sleep the festivities off. Even though it would have been nice to have the house to themselves for some post marital bliss, it made more sense to have Diane and Aaron sleep over since they are going to drive the happy couple to the airport early in the morning. And since they were already having guests, Negan figured Simon might as well stay and not risk driving home late with more than a few beers in his system. 

When the morning comes, it’s pretty hectic getting everything ready for their honeymoon, but they manage to get to the airport with their luggage and plenty of time to spare. And that means they have a lot of waiting around to do before they board the plane and get in the air. Just as Negan thinks he’ll go out of his mind in boredom, they’re called to their gate. Once they get to cruising altitude, the flight goes smoothly and they get a chance to relax. After an hour layover in California and a few more hours in the air, they get to their resort in Hawaii just in time to get a quick meal and go to bed.

Knowing that they’d be tired from the travel, they leave the first official day of their honeymoon open to just lounge around and let the jet lag wear off. After eating a late breakfast, they don their swimming suits and head out to the private beach owned by their hotel. Hand in hand, they lazily walk the shore.

“I’ve never been to the Pacific Ocean before,” Chuck mentions as she looks off towards the horizon. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah. You did good suggesting Hawaii. I’m liking all this sun and fuckin’ flowers and shit.”

Chuck giggles at him. “I think we made a mistake moving to Alexandria. We shoulda bought a house here. Just a little beach house right on the water.”

“Sounds fuckin’ good to me,” he jokes back. “Let’s quit our jobs and spend all day lounging naked on the fuckin’ beach.”

“Oh god. Now all I can think about is getting a sunburn on my nether bits. That would be horrible.”

Negan laughs. “You’re right. Your pale as fuck ass would burn right up.”

“Hey, you can’t complain about it now. You’re the one that married me.”

“You know I love your pale ass.” He pulls her into side and kisses her head. “You smell like fuckin’ sunscreen.”

She laughs at him. “I bet. I pretty much bathed in it.”

When they get their fill of sun and sand for the day, they go back to their room to relax before dinner. Chuck takes off the sarong covering her bikini and plops down on the bed, throwing her arms out and laying back. Negan kicks off his flip flops and joins her to lay on his side next to her.

“So where are we gonna eat?” Chuck asks, not moving her gaze from the ceiling.

“What do you want?” Negan moves his hand to her bare stomach and rubs it in a circular motion.

Chuck looks down at his hand on her tummy and suddenly she’s not thinking about dinner anymore. After they had decided not to confirm their pregnancy suspicions with a test until after the honeymoon, they hadn’t really talked about having children. Both of them seemed to choose to keep their attention on their nuptials instead of discussing that heavy topic.

Negan senses the change in mood between them and once he sees her gaze on his hand, he realizes why. “So...” He clears his throat and moves to sit up on the edge of the bed.

Chuck sits up as well, then giggles awkwardly. “Sorry. I guess my mind wandered.”

“It’s alright. I guess I’ve been fuckin’ thinking about it, too. I mean, shit. How can I not?”

She mutters a “yeah,” as she keeps her gaze on her own hands in her lap.

“You feel alright,” he looks at her, “right?”

“Yeah. I feel fine. Normal, really.”

“That’s good.” 

She finally turns her head in his direction. “You’ve really been thinking about it?” she asks, referring to what he said just a moment ago.

He nods. “Maybe I’ve been a dick for not talking more-“

“No,” she cuts him off. “I wasn’t talking about it either. I just didn’t-“ She pauses, not knowing how to really finish the sentence.

In truth, she’s spent a lot of time thinking about what it would mean to be pregnant, to bring a child into this world. At first, she was terrified. That’s part of the reason she didn’t seek Negan out for discussion. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him or think that he wouldn’t do everything in his power to be a good father, it was simply that she was unsure in herself. Then, the more they went on ignoring it, the more worried she got that maybe Negan really wasn’t ready for this monumental change. 

But the fact of the matter is, Negan was having the same exact thought process as her. He was questioning wether or not he’d be a good father and he didn’t want to voice that to his mate. Then, when she seemed to gloss over her possible pregnancy, he didn’t want to push the subject.

Separately, though, they both eventually came to the same conclusion. Despite their fears of inadequacy, despite the way this all came about, they both are absolutely excited at the prospect of starting a family. Now, they just have to tell each other that.

“You didn’t what?” Negan asks, hoping the rest of her thought won’t be something that he doesn’t want to hear.

She looks in his eyes and decides to tell him the truth. “I’m...” she gives him a tentative smile, “I didn’t want to force you into this. But... I’m kind of... really looking forward to having a kid.”

Negan lets out a huff of breath in relief that turns into a laugh. “Fuck, I’m so glad to hear you say that.”

“What?” She chuckles back.

“I wasn’t fuckin’ sure if you even really wanted it. And I was scared as fuck to tell you that I really fuckin’ want it. You don’t have to fuckin’ worry about forcing me into shit.”

“You’re sure?” she asks, relief tinting her tone.

“Shit, yeah. I mean, I’m still a little anxious about it. But it’s fuckin’ funny. I was excited for all this,” he gestures around them, “honeymoon shit, but I’m even more fuckin’ excited to get you home so you can piss on that test and show that plus sign.”

She laughs at him, her whole face lighting up with the motion. “I’m excited about that, too,” she admits through chuckles. “What a weird thing to be excited about. Peeing on a stick.”

The rest of their honeymoon goes quickly. They hit up some of the tourist things, glass bottom boat trip around the coast, a helicopter tour of the island, hot rock massages at the spa. They made sure not to load up their schedules too much, leaving enough time to lounge on the beach and, of course, enough time in the bedroom.

With phones full of pictures and skin a little bit darker, (For Negan, a nice tan. For Chuck, more freckles) they head back home. Unfortunately due to delays at the airport, they get back to their house much later than they wanted to. So the trip to the drugstore has to wait until the next day.

Bright and early the following morning, the newlywed couple heads to the nearest Walmart, avoiding their old pharmacy for obvious reasons. After looking over the pregnancy test options in the feminine hygiene aisle, they pick two different ones and head home. The car ride isn’t a long one, but it seems like forever before they make it back to their house and upstairs to the master bath.

“So I gotta pee on this end for five seconds,” Chuck says aloud as she reads the instruction paper in her left hand. In her right, she holds the test.

Negan looks up from the packet he’s reading, much in the same way. “This one says the same thing.”

“Should I do them both at once or one at a time?”

“Might as well piss on both of ‘em. We already know what the result’s gonna fuckin’ be. I don’t even know why you wanted to buy two.”

Chuck shrugs. “I don’t know. Just to be sure. What if I didn’t do one right? Or we got a messed up test?”

Negan shrugs back and hands her the test he has. “Get going then.”

With a giggle, she accepts the proffered item to join the similar one already in her hand and takes them both to the toilet. It’s a bit awkward to pee on the specific strip (especially with Negan watching), but in just a few moments, the deed is done.

As they sit down on the floor, their backs leaning on the counter, they wait for the five minutes to be over. After some contemplative silence, Negan asks casually, “You think it’s twins? Triplets?”

“God,” Chuck breathes out with a chuckle. “I don’t think I want more than twins. Even that sounds daunting.”

“With you in heat and me in rut, I’d be surprised if you push out just one fuckin’ rugrat.”

“Is it that uncommon?” she looks over to him to ask, then a thought occurs to her. “You’re an only child.”

“I wasn’t,” he answers, sadness tingeing his words. “I was a twin, but there were fuckin’ complications at birth. My sister didn’t survive,” he takes a deep breath, “and my mom could never get pregnant again. That’s part of the reason my father was such a goddamn bastard to her my whole life.” He shakes his head and his voice turns bitter. “She couldn’t ‘do what she was made to do’ he’d fuckin’ say.” He shrugs. “I probably got half brothers and sisters all over, though. My dad couldn’t be fuckin’ faithful if his life depended on it.”

“I’m sorry,” Chuck says genuinely and he looks to her, “...that your childhood kinda sucked.”

“It’s alright.” He wraps his arm around her shoulder and pulls her into him. “It’s the fuckin’ past. And I don’t wanna fuckin’ think about that sad shit now. Not when I’m about to get confirmation that I’m gonna be a daddy.”

Chuck’s phone chimes, signally that five minutes has past and the couple look to each other.

Negan stands quickly, holding his hand out to help Chuck stand. “Lets look at that plus sign.”

They both lean over the counter, their eyes trained on the two plastic tests sitting face down. Chuck flips the first one and looks to the indicator window for the plus sign. But a single line is all she sees.

Her brows furrow as confusion sets in. She quickly flips the other test and is met by another single line. Flipping her gaze between the two tests, she says to herself, “I don’t understand.”

When she finally looks up to Negan, who has been uncharacteristically quiet, she sees that his face is twisted in an unpleasant emotion. Was it anger? No. It’s more like... fear.

“What?” she instantly asks.

He stares at her a moment, his breathing fast and shallow, his eyes flicking around wildly.

“What?!” she insists.

“Get your fuckin’ shoes on. We’re leaving.” He turns and stomps out of the bathroom, leaving no room for argument.

Chuck follows after him with quick steps, all the while asking him what’s wrong. He doesn’t answer, though, his mind a singular focus on getting to the door.

“Negan, please. Just tell me what’s going on,” she pleads again as her husband finally pauses his momentum to toe on his shoes by the door to the garage.

“Just get your fuckin’ shoes on, Chuck. Goddamnit.” He picks up her shoes and tosses them to her.

“Stop!” she cries out, tears now pooling in her eyes.

Negan finally looks at her fully and takes a deep breath to calm his racing heart. “Lucille couldn’t get pregnant and we we’re too fuckin’ caught up in other shit to think something was wrong. We tried for fuckin’ months. Then when we finally decided to go to the doctor...” his voice hitches a bit, “That’s when they found the fuckin’ cancer. And it was too goddamn late.”

Chuck looks at him with wide eyes. “Oh my god, Negan. You think I have cancer ?!”

“Just get your shoes on and I’ll take you to the doc. Please, Chuck. Please .”

She stares at him a moment longer before moving. With her mind reeling, she hastily slips on her shoes and follows Negan out to the car. All she can think about is that just when she thought she’d got everything she’d ever wanted, it could all be ripped from her. 

Tags: @mypopurribitch​ @negans-womam​ @haleyea​ @ultrahviolent​ @thedeadwalks​ @readinginmymeadow​ @strangeandunusual-83 @lettherebepink​

[obligatorynasty]

It’s spoopy time, bois. So have some smut. Happy Halloween. 🎃🎃🎃

Tags: nff, College Roommate AU, Vampire!Tony, Powerless!Peter, TW:Blood Play, Biting, TW:Consensual Non-Consent (Basically Dub-Con)

-

Bite Me.

Peter tossed his phone against the bed sheets to his side. Not only was he bored, but his eyes were strained from all the social media scrolling he’d done. All his friends were out at some frat party or event, dressed in costumes of all kinds and seemingly having the night of their lives. Peter, however, was staying in the dorms because: Pete, please, I don’t feel like going out tonight.

Tony seemed off ever since he got back from his shift at the hospital and when he gave Peter that pleading look, the younger boy couldn’t resist. So, despite the temptation of a rowdy college party, Peter’s Halloween would just have to be spent indoors.

It wasn’t the worst night Peter has had. He was pretty relaxed; lounging on his dorm bed, listening to lofi study beats, and donning one of his boyfriend’s over-sized band tees. The atmosphere was perfectly chill, save for the energy billowing off his boyfriend, who was currently hunched over his desk, chewing the cap of his pen and boring holes into his textbook with the intensity of his stare.

Peter shifted to sit up on the bed, squinting at Tony from across the little room they shared,  “Did you eat today, Tones?”

Tony flinched at the sound of Peter’s voice. “Yeah, of course,” Tony huffed out, not looking up from the page, or rather, refusing to look up. “Why do you ask?”

“Well,” Peter hummed as he crossed their room to sit on the end of Tony’s bed, facing the older boy’s desk. “For one, you’ve been staring at that same page for over twenty minutes – and I know you read faster than that – plus, that pen cap is just about broken down to its individual atoms.” He quipped, gesturing to the small bits of plastic pooling in the book’s inner fold.

Tony pulled the pen from his mouth and even he was surprised at its state. “Fuck,” He sighed, running a frustrated hand through his hair before slamming the textbook closed. “Fine, you got me. I didn’t eat. The supply at the hospital is low and I think they’re starting to get suspicious – I mean, I am just an intern – and the school didn’t schedule any blood drives this week because of all the stupid Halloween events.” He slumped down in the desk chair. “I don’t think I’ll be able to eat for another three days.” He said it like a man starved.

“What about hunting?” Peter crossed his arms. “That’s what you did back in high school, right?”

“Can’t do that either.” Tony propped his arm up and massaged his temple like he had a migraine. “Animal tastes weird now that I’ve been on blood bags. And the frats are all doing those tests of courage tonight. The woods are filled with people, so even if I wanted to, I can’t hunt comfortably. I might attack someone.”

“But you’re not attacking me.” Peter pointed out. “Why is that?”

“You’re different.” Tony rolled his eyes with a smile, “You’re my roommate and my boyfriend. I smell you all the time. It’s easier to be around.”

Peter pouted, “I don’t know whether to be offended or not that my blood has no effect on you anymore.”

“I didn’t say that.” Tony laughed. “I said easier to be around. Your blood is still very tempting, babe.”

Peter hummed and nodded, “So you should just bite me.”

“No,” Tony scoffed. “We’ve been over this before. I wouldn’t be able to stop.”

“Yes, you would.” Peter challenged. “I’ve seen you put blood bags down even when you’re starving.”

“That’s different. It has a different taste. A different experience.” Tony explained. “Biting a human is too-” Tony paused, unsure of what word would do it justice. “I guess it’s too intimate.”

“More intimate than fucking each other?” Peter giggled. “Because we do that all the time.”

Tony smiled, “Yes, more intimate than that. When I bite a human, my fangs secrete this-”

“Secrete?” Peter humorously repeated.

“Yes, secrete, I stand by my choice in words.” Tony laughed. “My fangs secrete some kind of aphrodisiac. It makes the person more willing; more excited to be food. I’ve only been at this vampire stuff for a few years but my best guess is that it turns off pain receptors and kicks up the endorphins.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad.” Peter playfully shrugged. “Just bite me. I want to know what it feels like.”

“It’ll probably feel like you’re high.” Tony shook his head. “You can’t consent to anything like that. It’s fucked up.”

“I know that, but I’m consenting now.” Peter shifted off the bed and moved to climb into the older boy’s lap, straddling him.

And Tony tensed but welcomed the closeness, wrapping his arm around his boyfriend’s slender waist and gently dragging his fingertips across Peter’s exposed thighs. “I just don’t want to hurt you, babe.” He looked up at Peter with honest but hungry eyes, his irises cloudy, already swirling with a scarlet hue.

“You won’t hurt me. I trust you.” Peter cupped Tony’s face and pressed a kiss against his forehead. “Look at how good you’re being right now.” He smiled, pressing more sweet kisses against Tony’s face.

“I’m on edge right now.” Tony laughed weakly, exposing his fangs. “I’m really fucking hungry. I can’t focus on anything. Everything is so loud. My senses are going crazy and you just smell so good.”

“So, bite me!” Peter exclaimed. “Come on. Please. I’m asking for it, and judging by the way your eyes and fangs are reacting, so are you.”

Tony licked his lips and trailed his hands up Peter’s shirt, idly tracing the younger boy’s contours. “They do that every time you touch me. It’s a nat-”

“I know, it’s a natural reaction,” Peter interrupted, rolling his eyes before giggling to himself. “Like a vampire boner.” He joked.

“Hey!” Tony scoffed. “We are not calling it a vampire boner. It’s more sophisticated than that.”

“Well, if you don’t bite me, then I’m just going to keep calling it that.” Peter playfully taunted, tilting his head back and tugging at the collar of the t-shirt to expose more of his neck. “Come on, Tony. Don’t you want this.” He leaned closer. Close enough for Tony to smell him. Close enough for Tony to watch his blood travel through his vein with a steady pulse. Close enough to tempt. To entice.

And, without warning, Tony stood, lifting Peter by his waist like he weighed nothing and throwing him against the bed. “You need to calm down.” Tony practically growled – his fangs fully extended and his irises a bold red – as he put as much distance between them as he could in their small dorm room. Tony had a scary look in his eyes but Peter remained unfazed.

“Or what?” Peter challenged, sitting up on his knees. “You’ll bite me?” He smirked, grabbing at the bottom of the t-shirt and pulling it over his head in a single motion, leaving his body in nothing but a pair of boxers. His eyes were half-lidded and his skin was flushed pink, caused by the arousal that sparked at Tony’s show of strength.

“Peter, this is dangerous. You know that. You-” Tony took a step back, his breath shaky and his muscles flexed. Clearly nervous and worried, but the bulge in his jeans told another story. He took a deep breath, tearing his gaze away from his needy boyfriend in a futile attempt to calm himself. “You’re really important to me.”

“I know, Tones,” Peter smiled, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. “You’re important to me too. That’s why I want you to be comfortable.” He whispered, tilting his head back once more, slower this time. “So come eat, babe.”

“Peter,” Tony’s voice was taut; struggling. He was shaking, but he took a few steps forward – each one slower than the last like the proximity was burning him. “You’re serious? You’re consenting?”

“Yes,” Peter spoke softly, his body still. “Just be gentle.”

“Fuck,” Tony muttered as he took a final step to the edge of the bed. “I really don’t want to hurt you.” He placed a trembling hand against Peter’s cheek, trailing it downward to graze the younger boy’s pulse point. He let it linger there for a moment, feeling the rhythm of Peter’s blood pumping through it.

“It’s okay, Tones. Come here.” Peter gripped the bottom of his boyfriend’s t-shirt and pulling, motioning for the older boy to join him on the bed. And as Tony sat, Peter climbed back onto his lap, pressing their hardening lengths together. “You can bite me,” Peter whispered, throwing his arms over his boyfriend’s broad shoulders and tilting his head to the side, exposing his neck once more.

And Tony couldn’t resist it.

The young vampire dropped his face against Peter’s neck and inhaled, soaking in the scent. Savoring it before peppering kisses against the smooth skin. They were sweet at first – closed-mouthed and innocent – paired with soft caresses up and down Peter’s sides. Then, the kisses became more sensual; more wet; more vigorous. Each one punctuated with a lick across the pulse and a rougher grip at Peter’s waist. The nibbling was next, and it made Peter’s heart race, adrenaline rushing his body at the scrape of Tony’s fangs.

“Tony,” Peter reactively whined, rolling his hips down and grabbing handfuls of the back of Tony’s shirt. “Please, Tony,” He spoke without thought. Begging to his boyfriend as he would during sex because the atmosphere felt so similar. Only, this wasn’t that.

Suddenly, Tony’s fangs pierced Peter’s skin, making the younger man jolt in surprise. A fiery sensation exploded from the bite and each one of Tony’s gulps made it intensify. It hurt like a burn would. The pain was much greater than Peter thought it would be. So, impulsively, he thrashed, trying to pull away, but to no avail. Tony’s arms were locked tightly around his waist.

“Tony, it hurts! You said it wouldn’t-! Wait-? Fuck. What is that? Fuck, what’s-” Peter’s voice trailed off as that promised high set in. That fiery pain quickly morphing into unbridled pleasure. Like nothing Peter’s ever felt before. It was euphoric, really. A feeling he couldn’t comprehend. Couldn’t begin to explain. A feeling that had the power to make him go limp in Tony’s arms. Completely submit to Tony’s whim. A feeling with the power to make him moan the neediest, ‘don’t stop, please don’t stop’, that he could muster.

And, for a short while, Tony obliged. Taking in mouth-fulls of Peter’s decadent blood, wholly indulging in his animalistic urges. To Peter, it was wild. The feeling of Tony’s fangs penetrating him; making his head spin; taking him. He couldn’t believe how hard it was making him either.

Peter moaned, rutting his clothed erection against his boyfriend’s jeans. The combination of Tony’s bite and the dry-humped friction made his head buzz with pleasure. But, still, Peter wanted more. “Tony, touch me, please, I need it, I need it, please touch me, please.”

The sound of Peter’s cute pleads made Tony pull away, leaving the bite dripping. Letting the blood trickle down across his boyfriend’s chest; a sign he wasn’t done with his meal yet. “You taste so delicious, baby.” Tony’s voice was husky, drunk on the blood that stained his lips. “You want me to touch you, hm?” He growled, dragging his tongue down the line of dripping blood and stopping at his boyfriend’s nipple, lapping at the sensitive and perky nub.

“Don’t stop,” More of Peter’s pitifully needy whines. The sensation of Tony’s licks swarming his body with an immense level of pleasure. At this point, Peter’s mind was gone. There was no pain. No panic. No fear. Only bliss. His brain could no longer form complex thoughts beyond fuck me and bite me. Like his body was on a sexual autopilot. Every single one of his nerves was on fire, screaming at him to chase climax and seek the sting of Tony’s fangs. “Bite me, Tony.”

Tony smirked, turning to push Peter against the sheets before licking the line of blood down the younger’s soft chest and navel. When he reached the elastic or Peter’s boxers, he tore them away. Not caring about the consequences as he grazed his fangs against the soft skin of Peter’s inner thigh. Then, he was biting again, drinking his boyfriend’s sweet nectar once more.

And Peter moaned. Overcome by the stimulating intensity of the bite and the absolute ecstasy of Tony’s hand stroking his stiffened length. Peter’s breathing became heavy and his head felt airy and his body felt engulfed by his boyfriend’s voracity. “Tony,” He mumbled between each flick of Tony’s wrist.

The young vampire pulled away again, excess blood falling from his lips and drizzling up Peter’s body like sugary syrup on a creamy dessert as he moved to kiss the younger boy. Sloppily losing himself in the mixture of Peter’s moaning lips and the intoxicating taste of his sweet blood. He kept his strokes steady too, palming at Peter’s leaky erection in a gentle rhythm, basking in the cute reactions of the boy’s urgent yet pliant frame.

Tony dragged his lips down, over Peter’s chin and back to the first bite, latching on again in a gluttonous frenzy. Only pulling away to move to unbroken skin and bite again. And he repeated. Driving his fangs into Peter over and over, littering his neck and shoulders with kisses, bite marks, and smeared blood.

And, despite the clear danger Peter was in, the younger boy felt amazing – lightheaded, sure – but amazing. Because, fuck, Tony was overindulging on him and his cloudy brain made that fact feel electric. Enough to toss him over the edge into an unexpected orgasm that rocked his body so hard that he swore his vision went white. The delirium of coming ribbons against his boyfriend’s hand while those high-inducing fangs pressed into his skin was fucking breathtaking. Filled to the brim with pure, unbridled pleasure that made his ears ring. Made his body tremble. Made his nerves explode in a burning culmination of supernatural ecstasy that made Peter blackout.

~

The next morning, Peter woke with a start. Shooting up from the bed only to be hit with a throbbing headache that compelled him to lay back down.

“Be careful, babe,” Tony was sitting at the end of the bed, staring at Peter like he was an injured puppy. “You’re awake. How are feeling?”

“Like shit,” Peter mumbled through a hoarse voice, bringing his hands up to survey the peppering of bite marks across his neck. “I don’t really remember much. Pretty much everything, after you bit my thigh and kissed me, is a blur.”

“I shouldn’t have done it.” Tony’s expression was riddled with guilt. “I hurt you. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop. I just-”

“It’s okay, Tones.” Peter soothed. “I asked for it. Plus, it felt fucking amazing.” He patted the bed, gesturing for Tony to lay with him.

And Tony did, curling up beside Peter and pulling him into a gentle embrace, pressing a kiss against his forehead. “But I hurt you.”

Peter giggled, “I mean, yes, you did hurt me, but that endorphin thing is crazy. I’m hooked. We have got to do that again.”

“You’d want to do it again?” Tony asked slow, his voice a mix of a vampire’s excitement and a boyfriend’s concern.

“Yes, but not for a while. I have to heal up first. Replenish the supply a bit.” Peter smiled and tilted his head up to lock eyes with the older boy. “I said that I trust you, Tony, and I meant it.”

“I fucking love you, Peter.”

And Peter blushed. “I love you too.”

[feistypaants-archived]

Between The Pipes [Chapter 7]

Rating: M Words: 2060 Pairing: Kristanna Summary: When a new owner takes over the Arendelle Ice Breakers, Kristoff isn’t sure about his future with the team. That is, until a PR nightmare throws the newest member of the media team, who also just so happens to be the daughter of the new owner, right into his arms. Kristoff and Anna can’t even stand the interviews they have to do together… how on earth are they going to fix this mess? Hockey!AU.

[Chapter Index]

Where To Read: [AO3]

Notes: hopefully kristoff is a bit more sympathetic in this one lmao. He was a massive dick in the last chapter, but he just is dumb and doesn’t know how to handle himself. Sooooo anyway. :^) 

Enjoy!

Why couldn’t he stop doing that?

Kristoff sat for almost two hours, wondering if she would come back, and not wanting to be the dick who left her stranded if she did. He figured it was the least he could do, considering how he spoke to her. 

Why couldn’t he stop doing that?

It wasn’t like she had done anything, and he had genuinely gone into this lunch with the mindset to be nice . But he didn’t expect her to start trying to get to know him or put him on the spot. He felt his whole body tense with the desire to stay hidden, stay secretive, to make sure that she knew as little about him as possible. Something deep inside of him was wailing to get out and open up. He let something slip. He mentioned his father . The only person who knew about his father was Sven. 

Sven and his real parents. The ones who took him in when his father was too busy playing hockey to care about his young son.

He wasn’t ready for her to know about it. He wasn’t ready for the media to know about it.

He wasn’t ready for the media to know that he was the son of Leif Sørensen, a powerful defenseman in the Super League who was more focused on making it to the NHL than caring about his family. Leif Sørensen, who wanted nothing more than to be the best player in the world and didn’t care when his wife left him and his newborn baby. Leif Sørensen, who would leave his son alone for weeks on end and didn’t even seem to mind when his child got taken away and was sent to live with a new family.

Leif Sørensen, who died young from a heart attack, who never made it where he wanted to, who practically sighed with relief when his son was adopted officially and moved to America.

Kristoff wished every day that his father could see him now - wished that his father knew that his son accomplished what he couldn’t.

But he didn’t want anyone else to know about it.

So when he slipped, mentioned the tiniest little thing about it, he panicked. He threw on the worst attitude he could muster and shut her down. 

But she kept poking at him, wiggling her way into the tiniest crack he had shown, getting deeper and deeper under his skin. That was when he had to shut it down. He had learned from the best how to drive people away. As much as it panicked him, it helped that she did what he suspected she would and threatened to tell her father about it.

Spoiled little rich girl.

He sighed and finally stood, checking how much Anna had left and decided it was only right to try and give it back to her. It wasn’t her fault that this went to shit.

Sven was going to have his head.

—

“What the hell is wrong with you!?”

Kristoff tried his best not to wince when Sven actually punched him in the arm. He deserved it, he knew, and just let Sven continue on his rampage. His cheeks were red, brows low and eyes narrowed as he practically bared his teeth, ready to attack. “She was just trying to get to know you, was just trying to be nice and what did you do? You’re a complete asshole .” 

Sven leaned back, arms crossed over his chest as Kristoff tensed under his glare. He mumbled out something that he knew his captain wouldn’t hear, and grimaced when he felt Sven’s fist collide with his shoulder again. “I’m sorry!”

“No use in telling me that.”

“Look! She…” Kristoff threw his arms above his head with a groan and slumped further. “Something about her makes my stupid head want to open up and I can’t , okay? I’m not…”

Sven softened for just a moment. Kristoff struggled to find his words, mumbling a few non-starts before he finally came up with something he knew would convey all that Sven needed to know.

“She got me to mention my dad. No one knows about my dad.”

“ Dude ,” Sven whined, clapping his hands on top of the slightly taller man’s shoulders. “Isn’t that a sign, though? Your subconscious is literally screaming at you to let her in.”

“I don’t know her… I don’t trust her.”

A scoff, a quiet “you’re an idiot,” and then his hand was practically cupping Kristoff’s cheek, an action he wasn’t sure he was so comfortable with. Then he patted it hard enough to almost be classified as a smack, and Kristoff felt himself relax.

“You can’t get to know her if you keep treating her like this.”

Why was Sven always right?

He swore that he’d apologize the next time he saw her. Sven nodded as if it were good enough, and left him alone. 

Unfortunately, Anna hadn’t shown up to the rink in a few days, and Kristoff could feel the panic rising in his chest like acid with every passing moment. Had he been bad enough that she quit? Or, worse, was she going back to see her father and make him do something about the disrespectful goalie? She had threatened it… but was she really that kind of person?

It would be easier, he thought, if she were. 

He went through the practices, jumping at every person or sound that he thought could possibly be her, frowning when she didn’t come around the corner. He wanted to apologize, genuinely, but her not showing up was making that rather difficult .

But it was a Monday and it was still early, and he hoped that maybe there was a chance of her still showing today. He jumped at the puck that hit the glass behind him, and looked up just in time to see Mattias stalking towards the ice. 

“Bjorgman, my office, please.”

Oh god damn it fucking shit no.

—

Coach wasn’t patient today, so Kristoff just stripped off his padding and jersey before heading to the office. Walking around in compression shorts and a tee-shirt weren’t out of the ordinary, so he hurried onward and hoped it was good enough. He had gotten a low chorus of Oooo ’s as he skated off the ice, and when Coach silenced them with a loud bark of a shut up and practice , Kristoff knew it was serious. 

So he moved quickly, padding down the halls, and frowned when he heard multiple voices coming through the closed door. Knocking tentatively, Kristoff pushed open the door and felt his heart start beating faster when he saw a familiar head of red hair, neatly arranged into two braids, her cheeks red and expression shameful.

She fucking didn’t.

“Kristoff,” another voice said, pulling his attention away from her. Gerda, he thought he remembered her name being, the head of Public Relationships and Media, was standing in front of him, her hand extended. When he shook it, she gestured at the empty chair beside Anna and smiled. “Please, sit.”

He felt like a school kid again, getting scolded for cheating off an exam. 

Kristoff forgot his size for a moment and frowned when Anna’s arm retreated to her lap after his own brushed against it. Was she really that repulsed by him? Was he really that terrible of a person that just his arm brushing against hers made her recoil like that? 

There was an unfamiliar itch on the back of his neck, one he rolled his head to try and get rid of, frustration growing as it just got worse and worse . “What’s going on?” He started, lifting a hand to scratch at the back of his head. It didn’t help.

Mattias sat at his desk as Gerda lowered herself to perch on the edge, arms crossing over her chest. 

Now he really felt like a school kid again. Come on.

“I’m sorry, did…” her voice was meek as her eyes glanced to him for just a second before focusing on the gray carpet beneath their feet. “Is something wrong?”

Gerda smiled and shook her head, and Kristoff almost laughed as he and Anna breathed out a simultaneous sigh of relief. This still didn’t make sense, though. He leaned forward, bracing one hand on his knee as he did, elbow popping out to the side. “So what’s going on, then?”

“Well.” Mattias’ voice was powerful as ever, as he leaned forward on his arms and sighed. “Kristoff… It’s come to my attention that… you haven’t been doing so well with the media side of things over these last couple of seasons.”

What ?

“We’d really like it if you could make an effort to stick around for interviews, and show up to all of the charity events…” He shrugged. “And the fan events.”

Kristoff stiffened, frowning deeply. “I’m here to play hockey , coach.”

Mattias gave him a nod, but shrugged. “Well, unfortunately… part of being in the NHL is giving back, and part of being on this team , is participating in these events.”

He was balking now, his eyes wide and his hands gripping the edge of the desk as he leaned forward. “Come on .”

“This is non-negotiable, Bjorgman.”

He threw himself back into the chair with a groan, arms crossing tightly over his chest. He was too busy pouting to notice Anna sit further forward in her own seat, hand meekly raised in the air. 

“So… why am I here?”

Gerda dropped her hands into her lap with a nod. “We’d like you to be the primary reporter in charge of covering and interviewing him. 

And, in sync, “ What ?”

She let out a soft laugh and sat up straighter. “Anna, I’ve been impressed with how much effort you’ve put into just your first two weeks, and I’d like for you to have a chance to make a name for yourself. Richard quit, and we need an on-the-ice interviewer… so I would like for you to give it a try.” 

Kristoff tried not to be distracted by the movement of her throat as she swallowed, and turned his attention back to the two sitting in front of them. “There’s no wiggle room here?”

Mattias shook his head. “None. You do this, or you’re benched.”

Shit.

Anna still seemed to be processing the information when they were excused, and Kristoff had to slow down his steps to stay in stride with her. “Hey,” he started, trying not to laugh when she jumped as if she hadn’t even noticed he was walking beside her. “I…”

She stopped, looking up at him with those pretty blue eyes, and Kristoff felt his face flush. “I wanted to apologize for the other day.”

He saw a change in her, when she stopped being overwhelmed by the news and was back to hating his guts. Anna crossed her arms and looked up and down his body, her hip cocking to the side. “Go ahead.”

“What?”

“Apologize.”

Kristoff’s eyebrows furrowed, his shoulders rising with confusion as he continued to stare her down. “I did .”

“No,” she dragged out, her lips forming a perfect o as she leaned slightly forward. “You said you wanted to apologize.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

“No!” Her arms dropped to her sides, tense and frustrated as she turned and continued to walk off. “You’re unbelievable!”

He was genuinely confused, tripping over his feet as he spun quickly to keep up with her long, angry strides. “Okay, okay! I’m sorry!” She stopped suddenly and he almost ran her over as he did his best to halt his steps. Kristoff took in a deep breath, blowing it out in one slow sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“All right.” Her voice was softer now, as if that was all he had to do to make her give him another chance. She looked down at her feet, suddenly bashful as he towered over her, arms braced on his hips. “Well,” she risked a glance up at him and scrunched her lips to one side. “If we’re going to have to work together, we… should probably figure out how to be civil.”

Kristoff felt a weight lift from his chest as he nodded. 

“I can be civil.”

She laughed, and he flushed again. Even her laugh was pretty. 

“I doubt it, but I guess we should give it a try.”

[sonicringbond]

Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey - Scene 27

Thank you everyone for your patience, we finally have a scene with a little action in it. I won’t keep you away from it as I know everyone has been waiting for it for a while, so please enjoy, after just a bit of opening exposition in...

    ~I really do love travelling. Especially with friends!

    ~Tee-hee~♪ Though my current friends aren’t as enthusiastic as I am. Draw has been with me for a while, but he’s always either teasing me or being too serious. I feel kind of bad for him and really hope our journey together will help him open up and have more fun. I kind of forced our new friend on him though, as well as a Ring Bond.

    ~It really surprised me that the weird little creatures we saved were fairies. The one we befriended we’ve taken to calling Mote as they don’t have any names normally. But they glow like the motes of light that Rings leave behind so it’s now a really cute name~♥ Now if only Mote was nicer to me.~

    From the back of a covered truck bed, Rosy watched Draw as he looked at the gray ocean beyond the truck. As a storm raged on and turned the ocean violent and hostile, the truck bumped along as though it was unconcerned. In the comfort of the truck, Rosy barely paid the storm any mind and spied the fairy they named Mote resting. As she smiled and waved pleasantly, the fairy took note and ducked out of sight to which Rosy puffed up her cheeks.

    ~According to Draw, the reason why Mote avoids me and won’t even stay out long enough for me to look at them is because I’m a medium and fairies don’t have the right to talk to someone chosen by the gods. I don’t really remember the adventures I went on with friends as well as I do the ones I went on alone and talked to them about, but maybe I’ve met some. I don’t remember. But it’s not the first time I’ve been called a medium either. A friend back home once did and Ix also called me a medium. Is it really so special being able to maybe talk with gods using my tarot cards?

    ~Well, I’m sticking to talking to spirits today!~

    Not giving up on making friends with Mote, Rosy skipped over to the back of the truck and leaned out as well. The rain immediately slicked her quills, and salt water just as likely sprayed her as the ocean smashed tumultuously against the rocky and jagged coast. In the distance among one particularly rocky outgrowth, an old stone brick castle could be seen rising up and reaching towards the sky with its numerous towers.

    ~After Draw, Mote, and me started traveling together, my goal has been tracking down Sonic so we can get him to help Mote save all their friends from whoever it is who is capturing them and shoving them into those awful autogolems. Unfortunately, Mote doesn’t know who it is and finding Sonic isn’t easy either, but fortunately I have a record of being good at finding him. Mote is also a Ring Fairy supposedly, so that inspired me to try also tracking down another Red Star Ring. Trusting my cards is fine, but we also need one to hopefully get back home. And I’m sure just like me, Sonic is looking for one too as well all our friends.

    ~And that brings me to that big castle that we’re heading for right now. Supposedly it’s haunted, but claims that if you stand in the highest tower that you can hear the wailing of the ghosts who still live in it have lured me to it. Other people argue it’s just the sounds of the ocean rising up from the whole set of ruins that extends out some ways under it. I kind of wonder if it used to be a big city above water before the ocean came in. Or maybe the ocean or the city were dropped here by a Ring Shift. It’s so hard to tell with our world.

    ~Still, as much as I hope the local ghosts can help me find Sonic, some people say that in the ancient underwater city there are tiles in the road that look like the big Red Star Ring that Sonic and I accidentally put up in the sky. But if that’s really true… Well, the ghosts will surely know!~

~|~

    “Why does every idea you come up with lead us into danger!” Draw cried out from the top of his lungs as he clung on to Rosy for dear life.

    Running as deftly as she could through the crumbling ruins she laughed and would have scratched at her cheek if she were not giving Draw a piggyback ride. “Well, everyone calls me a rascal–”

    “You call yourself a Rascal!” Draw yelled at Rosy and was nearly drowned out by a crack of thunder beyond the castle wall.

    Skipping and jumping from one crumbling wall or staircase to the next and down the occasional hall, Rosy attempted her best to outrun the ghosts that were anything but friendly. Barely more than what resembled a sheet draped over a ball, the ghosts were possessed of terrifying eyes of darkness and had long curved horns growing from their foreheads. Rosy had already encountered the receiving end of the horns once and lost most of her Rings. Attacking the ghosts did no good either as they simply dispersed and reformed. As a result, Rosy chose to flee.

    “Well, getting into trouble is part of adventuring too.”

    “Do all of your friends get into trouble like this!”

    “Maybe…?”

    “You’re going to get me killed, aren’t you?”

    “Don’t talk like that Draw,” Rosy tried to cheer up her koala companion, but as she ran out past a broken wall and into the storm, the slick brick floor stole her traction from her, and she slipped and slid about uncontrollably.

    “WOAH~!”

    The two screamed out together and Rosy desperately tried to press her feet into the ground beneath her, but all she managed to do was provide herself more surface to slip on. Her red ballet flat like shoes were not well suited to running as it was, though Rosy made do as she called them cute. She was getting fairly decent running with them on reasonably dry terrain and some grass, but here in the old castle they proved disastrous.

    With yet another slip from an attempted step, Rosy slid down into involuntarily performing a full leg split and continued to slide with even less control than before. Trying to bring her legs back under her merely made her spin and she and Draw crashed into a wall and tumbled right over the parapets.

    “Ow~,” Rosy laughed as much as complained as she held her head and looked up into the violent storm clouds above. A bolt of lightning tore through them and a tremendous crack of thunder shook Rosy and the castle through. “Hee-hee. It’s a good thing Tails isn’t here. He’d be too terrified to move. But then the ghosts would get him.”

    “If you didn’t first,” Draw argued as he walked over and looked down at Rosy. “Besides, it looks like the ghosts won’t come outside.”

    “Really? Rosy questioned as she sat up and extracted herself from the mud she was sinking into. Using the pouring rain to clean herself off, Rosy looked around noticed that they really were not being chased anymore. “Wow! In that case we should probably find a way to get to the tallest tower before the sun goes down.”

    “You really still want to go up there. It looks like it’s covered so these ghosts will probably be waiting for us.”

    “Well, I’m still hoping to meet a nice ghost who can point us to the Red Star Ring or even Sonic.”

    “You are so weird you weirdo girl!”

    “Hee-hee! Don’t be like that Draw. It’ll be fun! Promise!”

    ~Draw of course was fussy about it, though that could have also been due to his coat being soaking wet. It’s funny he how called me strange for wearing a leotard in the snow, but he’s been wearing that fur coat ever since I met him. I wonder if it’s that cozy.

    ~At the least, Draw’s coat was definitely cozier than the castle’s highest tower. But that didn’t make the tower less amazing. Though it was mostly exposed to the elements and the roof seemed to stay up as though it were magic, the view of the city under the waves was breathtaking. Also sad in a way. This once massive city now rested beneath the ocean with only the castle full of ghosts to show where the city was now. But if the rumors were true, and Draw and I could definitely hear something up there in that old rickety tower, then there were ghosts who still talked and likely lived down in the city. I just needed to get in touch with them. To do that with the shape the tower was in I was going to have to use up a lot of Rings to protect my tarot cards from the rain. But it would be worth it. I came up here hoping to find a clue to where Sonic was and maybe snag a Red Star Ring too! It was just a matter of following my destiny as it unfolded!~

Scene 27 · CLEARED A Tide of Ghosts, to be continued

-----

And there we have it, quite a bit of action, and Rosy having a fair bit of clumsiness while it’s going on. I really hope everyone enjoyed and is looking forward to the next scene. It’s my personal favorite so far and has plenty of action as well. Please look forward to it, and thank you so much!

-----

Special Thanks to Cutegirlmayra Story by @JoshTarwater/SonicFanJ Inspiring Song – What Makes the Sky Blue – Tsutomu Narita – Granblue fantasy Original Soundtrack: Promise

Fair Use Disclaimer

Sonic the Hedgehog and all affiliated characters and logos are the express property and Copyright© of SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS used without permission under Title 17 U.S.C Section 107 of the Copyright Act 1976 in which allowance is made for “fair use” for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research. “Fair use” is use permitted by copyright statute that might otherwise be considered copyright infringement. The Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey alternate universe (AU) consumer written work of fiction is a non-profit transformative work primarily for personal use and can and will be taken down without warning or prior notice at the request of the copyright holder(s) should it not be recognized under “fair use”.

*Sonic Ring Bond logo created by DEE Art – twitter.com/daryliscute.

Sonic Ring Bond AU and Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey are the creation of Joshua David Tarwater/ynymbus/sonicfanj/@Joshtarwater and is to be, including all contents herein considered for all legal purposes the property of the Sonic the Hedgehog intellectual property (IP) and copyright owners, SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS. All story contributors via prompt, suggestion, written scene, art, and all and every other contribution acknowledge that all contributed material is forfeit for legal purposes to SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS upon official request from SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS.

[markswoman]

sucker | ml

“the hospitals are probably packed.”

mark shakes his head and points his chopsticks at the screen. “no, people usually don't go to the hospital this early in the game. especially if the symptoms are just flu-like.”

it's a game to mark, and that sends a quick shiver down your spine. you spill a bit of leftover noodle soup on your leg.

pairing | mark x reader | apocalypse!au | fluff + angst | 3.4k |

warnings: implied sex, description of illness, death

You and Mark start out with a stockpile of basic necessities.

You’re lucky—lucky that you’re a bit of a hoarder and keeps everything you have, often buying double or triple-sets of non-perishables.

You had heard about it through the Internet weeks ago, but more than half the news alerts you read don't amount to much of anything, so you ignored it. Mark, on the other hand, the more intuitively proactive, doesn't hear about it until it reaches television weeks later—television, radio, schools, and hospitals.

“You're lucky you didn't take that accelerated med-school program,” you say over a bowl of instant noodles. You’re curled up on the couch together with the evening news flashing through the apartment, a tradition you’d started since moving there about a year ago. Mark arrived home just in time to catch the end of the daily headlines and see the news for himself . “The hospitals are probably packed.”

Mark shakes his head and points his chopsticks at the screen. “No, people usually don't go to the hospital this early in the game. Especially not if the symptoms are just flu-like.”

It's a game to Mark; that sends a quick shiver down your spine. You spill a bit of leftover noodle soup on your leg.

–

You’ve been casually dating since college.

Mark likes to call it 'dating,' and you like to call it 'casually dating,' because you honestly don't spend much time together outside the apartment. “It's a good thing, too,” Mark adds while slipping on a jacket the next morning. “Because if we were out all the time, we'd be hospitalized and dead by now.”

You sigh and tsk and reluctantly swallow the truth in it. The television's been reporting hundreds of hospitalizations in the past couple of hours, and Mark's headed to work to bring back some office supplies and to tell his manager that he'll be out for the rest of the week. You look forward to it. “Your office is probably closed,” you offer, but Mark claims that he'd left his laptop in an unlocked drawer last night and needs it if he wants to work from home.

You’ve been casually dating since college, where you’d met senior year in a Tuesday Music History class required by the core curriculum; as the only two seniors, you and Mark sat with your arms and legs crossed in the back of the classroom taking turns dozing and supposedly listening to the lecture. You found out you lived on the same floor, and after walking in on him in the shower, it'd been pretty much impossible to avoid some sort of social interaction. Or, as you like to call it, 'casually dating.'

Love isn’t mentioned. But you mention it to make Mark squirm, and you don’t expect much of a positive reaction.

You close your email and long-outdated job-hunting windows and refresh the news until Mark comes back; the virus is the front page of every website, making a filling appetizer of the media before attacking the people, and you jump when your phone rings. It's Mark.

“The office is open today, and we're still going strong. So I won't be home for a while.”

“Sure,” you reply, an echo of how you’ve been replying to all of Mark's calls for the past couple of weeks. Months. Years, maybe.

“So,” Mark murmurs, but his sinking tone says that he doesn't have anything to follow up. You stay quiet, pressuring him—or, perhaps just avoiding the farewell. “I'll, I'll call.”

“If anything happens.”

“Yeah.”

Mark's voice sounds a thousand times more strained over the telephone, where you can't see him and the way he prefers to talk with his hands and his face and multiple, “You know what I mean instead of with words. Mark's never been linguistically adept, and you remember your own surprise when Mark had come home with a job offer and a salary a week after graduation.

It isn't just Mark's voice, though; it's the whole conversation. The way of going about mentioning casual afterthoughts; it’s a thousand times more strained over the telephone, where you don't know whether or not Mark's hung up. Mark snores at night but breathes soft during the day, and you, on the other hand, balance the telephone between your ear and your shoulder and huff right into the receiver; Mark used to tease you about the breathy, distorted messages you’d leave on Mark's voicemail. Mark used to tease you about a lot of things.

You hear the familiar voice of the recorded operator, telling you that you better hang up and get the fuck over Mark—or, rather, the harsh beeping that pretty much implies it.

–

Mark's office closes after about two weeks, and you smile with eyebrows arched in, feigning wry but expectant disappointment. You like to think you have decent control over your facial expressions, at least enough to fool Mark.

“Aren't you happy I'm home?” 

You eat dinner in the kitchen together that day, you leaning against one counter where Mark stands across from you, the television off for the first time in years after Mark had complained about it. You don't like change, but you like Mark.

“Do you want me to be happy?” You reply.

Mark nods, and maybe it's just the way his lips are pursed around his half-chewed food, nostrils flared for breathing, one chopstick still in his mouth, eyes large and intent, but Mark nods, and you see the Mark you’d fallen in lo—you’d lov— you’d been attracted to three years ago. You mention love to make Mark squirm; Mark doesn't mention it, and you never squirm. Mark doesn't mention it, so you never squirm.

“Sorry, I—”

“No, I'm happy.”

“Don't pretend to be happy,” Mark says, a hint of a whine in his voice, tossing the empty cup into the garbage bin. You laugh at the irony of it and push yourself off the counter. You move to take off Mark's coat—the black one that you bought together after hours of sifting through the extra large coats left on the clearance rack. It looks nice, though.

“Anyone infected at your work?” You ask.

Mark steps out of the sleeves. “Yeah, a few.”

“You're lying.”

Mark would always turn to you when he spoke because he feared a misunderstanding like the plague, pleading you to read his facial expressions. He'd turn away when you would bother him about finishing his paper, or when you would remind him to call his parents, or when he told you he'd never dated before. Mark hasn't lied to you for a while—Mark hasn't spoken to you for a while.

“Okay, a lot of people,” Mark says softly, turning around, and you smile.

“Maybe we should burn all your office clothes. For good measure.”

“I don't think that would help,” Mark says, reaching for a hanger through a quiet but long sigh. His voice goes low again, low and dull, and you take it upon yourself to think that you’ve done something to ruin the moment.

–

The advisory to stay indoors implies a demand to stay indoors after a few weeks. You notice when you’re dragging a few bags of garbage to the curb and the last of the cans on your street have vanished. The garbage smells a lot nicer, at least— You’ve been scraping every container empty to preserve food, though you and Mark are probably a lot better off than most of the people in the complex. The city can't issue a mandatory evacuation because there isn't anywhere to go, really, but about half of the neighbors are in the hospital either as victims or as family members, or, as Mark likes to say, “soon-to-be-victims.”

“You only say that because we're not infected yet,” you said, flipping through an old magazine on the couch. You’re supposed to get new issues weekly, but the postal service hasn't been operating either. “Be sensitive.”

Mark shrugs. “What's the death count?”

“Hundreds of thousands, at least. Stores are empty or closed. Shit's on sale. Economy sucks.”

Mark hasn't touched his office clothes for weeks, white shirts stiff and pressed, hanging to collect dust in the closet. And you kind of like it, hanging up Mark's hoodies and tees in the center of the rack and pushing the slacks off to the side after you do the laundry.

After a moment, Mark murmurs, “Want to go out?”

You look up.

“Like, shopping?”

“Like a date,” you said, your voice sliding into an embarrassingly high range, and Mark laughs.

–

You kiss when you close the front door and Mark tugs both your scarves off. Mark's lips are drier than you remember them being, but they still taste like him, salty in the corners and tinged with the slightest hint of blood, because Mark has a habit of picking at his lips. You drop the groceries to the floor and wrap your arms around Mark's neck, flinching when the cans roll toward the living area, but Mark holds you tight and has you pinned against the door. It's a struggle between Mark and the slightly neurotic side to you, so you end up ducking the last kiss and Mark's lips land somewhere between your nose and your cheek.

“The cans,” you breathe, and Mark blinks, then laughs.

“You don't change.”

Of course I don't, You do. Is what you want to say, but you slip from Mark's arms and into the living room. You’d only ended up buying more groceries and leaving the department stores closed and unguarded with a tense atmosphere lining the streets and doorways—people wanting to leave, to stock up, but being too afraid of the free-range air. Sidewalks had been deserted but felt packed, and with gallons of peanut butter and canned fish, you both rushed back to the apartment with a sort of surreal background chasing you both down every side-street. That, and Mark's sudden urge to kiss you through the obstructing scarves, but you can't say that you don’t appreciate it.

“I don't understand why you insisted on scarves in the middle of May—”

“Protection,” you insist, and Mark leans against the doorway.

“If it's going to get you, it's going to get you. There isn't much you can do to stop it.”

You carry the rest of the groceries to the pantry, which is now being somewhat contained in a pantry-cupboard area, but you want it to overflow again. It would give you some kind of security in a suspended, unprepared world. The last thing you want to do is die of starvation. “Look, I bought a bunch of face masks.”

“Don't tell me we're wearing those around the house.”

You hold your hands protectively over the boxes and hesitate. “Is the disease fatal?”

Mark nods. “Pretty much, yeah.”

It’s easy to be awfully calm about it. Because there isn't anything to shout at, nothing to fight, no antagonist, nowhere to put the blame; you pity the victims and put them in isolation and move on tip-toeing through the rest of the week, wondering who'll be the next to go. Sometimes, you panic to fit in, but there's no one left to imitate. And in an eerily quiet city that used to always be one day ahead of itself, there's not much you can do to effectively panic. Panicking is just part of a mob-mentality lifestyle that loses its attractiveness when there's no mob. You put your hand over Mark's. “Then, no. Let's not wear them.”

Mark doesn't get it and breathes out a sigh of relief, but you don't need him to get it.

–

Police issue a quarantine weeks later, giving the survivors a couple days to stock up before plastering the bright yellow warning tape over every church, grocery store, school, and office building still open—only the hospitals remain in operation, and you imagine a line of the sick, running through houses and city streets and public places, stretchers lying on the grass and nurses falling ill but working until they're on the floor, white-faced and heaving.

You flinch when Mark puts a hand on your shoulder.

“Are we going out again to get the last of the food?”

You sigh and rub your hands together, flipping through the two or three television channels that are still being run by substitute news-casters. “Bad organization on their part. All this is going to do is infect the rest of the city. Think about it, hundreds of people running through restaurants and waiting in food-lines, bringing whatever they can manage back home to their families, who will be in an isolated area with them for the next couple of weeks.”

“So instead of dying in the hospitals, they're—”

“Dying in their homes,” you finish, and Mark nods.

“So we're not going?”

You look up at Mark, whose eyes are wide and, not angry, more determined, eyebrows furrowed and large irises directed straight at you. It's been a while—a Mark that’s attentive and waiting for you with his feet together and rooted in one spot. It's been a while, a Mark who isn't waltzing through your legs and tripping you over spaces between the tiles and slipping through your fingers at every turn of a corner.

“Let's stay,” you say while leaning back into the couch, and Mark sits closer than he has in three years. During dinners, you’d balance your respective meals on opposing armrests and jerk your feet apart whenever they touched. During quarantine, Mark leans against you, your shoulders and arms and legs shared, dipping into the crack between cushions and fatal illnesses, waiting for something and waiting for nothing.

–

The world death toll is in the tens of millions, and you’re lying on the couch with a towel around your body after showering with Mark and having been hoisted up against the glass and fucked hard. Shower sex was something you teased each other on multiple occasions, but you’ve perfected the art, pointing the shower head toward the wall, and cool, smooth glass feels a lot better on your back than any sheets ever have.

You count your sins on one hand and your sayings on the other.

You’re having fucking shower sex when people are dying; your parents called you multiple times, and you haven’t answered. The calls have since stopped coming, and you’ve assumed the phone line went dead. (You’re too afraid to check.)

But what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, and part of you regrets that it'd taken a worldwide pandemic to drag Mark home from work and to force what you’d been too suspended, too unprepared to say. And part of you doesn't give a fuck, because it'll kill you both in the end, even with the precautions, even with the face masks and the insulated windows and the empty streets and quarantines.

“You want to go again?” Mark says, rubbing his hair with a towel and motioning at your fingers.

You kick at him, and Mark laughs.

And after that, it just sort of slips out.

“I love you.”

You don’t know who said it first, but suddenly, you can't get enough of it, Mark kneeling in front of the couch so you’re eye-to-eye with each other and cupping your face with large, stiff hands. He kisses you, his breath still hot and a little uneven, and you love it, pulling back just a bit to fill the air between you with more, lost in the time it took you both to realize it.

It's July, and you’re running out of food, and you’re sure you’re going to Hell, lying on the couch and sucking Mark's tongue into your mouth and letting out short whimpers, but it's more than just part of you that doesn't give a fuck anymore—it's half of you, all of you.

–

The symptoms begin with a relentless sore throat and a mild headache that worsens over the course of 72 hours, when they then deteriorate into coughs and sneezes that help spread the virus when it's at its strongest state. Your temperature rises all the while, slowly at first, but steadily—one thermometer reading will never be lower than the last one, which makes for a sort of helplessness, much like the later stages of drowning, only more conscious. More aware. You're more aware. Then comes the blood, out of the nose, the mouth, then in the end, the ears, and most victims will die of some sort of asphyxiation.

You take glass after glass of tap water—in the middle of the night at first, when Mark had still been asleep, but after a while, you think it’s asinine to keep Mark in the dark—it'd be like murder, and you would rather give Mark the chance to leave if he wanted to.

It isn't easy. It isn't easy keeping composed when a little itch in the back of your throat means much more than just that, and you don't know what sort of reaction to expect. And perhaps if you mention it in passing, Mark will only come to understand the gravity of it in bits and pieces, thereby spreading the reaction through the afternoon. So when you’re sitting on the couch and  watching reruns of your favorite dramas, you carefully shifted to your own side and Mark to the other, you murmur, “My throat kind of hurts. Want some water?” between standing and sliding toward the kitchen, waiting for a yes or a no or anything, your hands shaking as you pause just before the doorway.

Mark closes his eyes and doesn't reply.

Mark closes his eyes as if he'd been expecting it.

Mark closes his eyes and motions for you to come back to the couch. And it's the gentle flick of his wrist that breaks you, who crawls back, pushing yourself up onto the cushions again. Mark catches you when your hand slips, gripping your forearm so hard it hurts, and it doesn't make your throat feel any better, but mends the little parts of you that had been waiting for redemption.

–

The Internet service providers are on and off, but you go through your cached pages and run through the symptoms with Mark in a quick and curt and stoic, or so you’d like to think, manner, until you can't speak anymore. Which is when Mark, as if he'd been expecting it, guides you over to the bed and pushes you onto it, draping a blanket over you that doesn't quite cover your feet.

“So, this is it, huh?” Mark says, his weight dipping into the mattress.

“I don't know if it's contagious yet or not,” you whisper, and Mark shrugs.

“I'll stay.”

You see a bit of a glimmer in Mark's eyes before you let your own flutter shut, but you’re half conscious through the whole evening, not really delirious or tired or sick, even. Mark stays for hours, occasionally humming and occasionally running his hand through your hair and occasionally speaking to you in a series of ‘remember whens’.

He leaves when the sun starts setting, and you hear some noises in the kitchen, then the sound of the shower turning on—you have to think about that one for a couple moments, never really having heard it from outside the bathroom before; you’ve usually showered together since moving in. And the strange muffled taps blend into one continuous, soothing hum that lulls you into a real sleep.

–

You wake up in the middle of the night with the itch in your throat more of a harsh tear and untangle Mark's fingers from around your waist.

And as you make your way to the kitchen, the blood rushes to your feet, leaving your head half light and half pounding, as if you’d doubted the disease yesterday. In the context of your entire lifespan, the pain will last for a fraction of a second. Mark will have it worse, when you leave. (If you leave.)

Under the fluorescent light, you notice the pantry door open and a bit of a mess on the counter, half-empty trash bags in the corner and stray tissues in the garbage, and through the translucent bags, you see more than tissues—as if on cue, waiting for you—white cloths. Mesh. The face masks, cut up, torn, unusable, boxes destroyed, every single one.

[xiubaek-13]

All Nighter

Prompt: Yoongi + 2. A small, fleeting kiss - which is immediately followed by a passionate, hungry kiss.  + Yoongi

Setting/AU: Roommate AU

Warnings: Yoongi’s dry humour & nagging, kissing, sexual tension.

Word Count: 1,791

“Are you still doing your essay?” He asks as he wanders out of his room, making a beeline for the coffee machine.

By not looking away from the harsh glow of your screen you missed the disheveled dark mop of hair and sleepy movements of your roommate. You’d been so focused on this essay that you hadn’t really noticed the passing of time. For one thing, it was dark now. How long had it been dark? You had no idea. “Mmmhmm.” Was the best he was getting out of you.

“Do you even know what time it is?” He yawns as he gets a mug out of the cupboard. You had to finish this stupid essay tonight. If you didn’t then you couldn’t go to the party and you’d missed so many event this semester already. Past you thought it would be a great idea to do 5 units this semester and present you wanted to throttle her for it. You’d never been so stressed. Essays were all due in the same 2 week block, quizzes and discussions were every week and then there was the lectures and readings and it was a lot.

“Like 8?” You respond as you check your word count. 1249, only 751 to go. That shouldn’t take too long, maybe 2 more hours? If you just kept at it you were sure you could have this stupid essay finished before you went to bed. The sooner you could stop thinking about the psychology of morality and ethics, the better.

“Try 1 AM.” He replies.

“No.” You shake your head in disbelief. Finally looking up from your screen you turn to face the kitchen. “You only got back a little while ago and you had classes til 5 today.”

Yoongi chuckles at you. “I’ve been out twice since then. Once to get food and another to go to work.” He picks his coffee up and leaves the kitchen, making his way over to you. “You’ve been totally zoned out. What essay are you even working on?” He grabs one of the textbooks from the pile next to you and grimaces. “Psychology of Ethics & Morality. Did you intentionally plan this semester to make you hate your life?” He tosses the book back onto the pile it came from and hands you his mug.

“Did you burn your coffee Yoongi?” You quip.

Your words make his brow furrow in confusion. “What? No. I made it for you so that you’d hurry up and finish this essay so that you can sleep.” He sighs and pokes your arm to get your attention as your eyes have that zoned out look in them. Somehow he knew that you were exhausted but he didn’t really nag you about it since he would do the same thing to himself when he was overworked. You remembered your first year of living together when you thought he’d moved out because you hadn’t seen him in a week only to find out that he had 3 essays due on the same day and stayed up for 3 days straight to finish them, promptly passing out for 36 hours afterwards to recover.

Realising that you were still in your own little world, he clicked his fingers next to your ear, bringing you out of your thoughts instantly. You jumped, the sound of his fingers clicking startling you. “Have you even looked in a mirror lately? You make me look tanned. A first year asked if I was living with a zombie.” He pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and finger. “I wish I was kidding about that last one but seriously, you need to go outside. Get some vitamin D.”

“Are you trying to come onto me Yoongi?” The words leave your mouth before your brain can stop them. You knew he was only implying that you should reacquaint yourself with sunlight but the childish part of your brain, the part that had no filter decided to pick up on the innuendo. Usually you could keep that part of your mind in check, the witty retorts and stupid jokes that would embarrass you dying on the tip of your tongue but evidently when you were sleep deprived, you had no such control over it.

“What? N-no!” To your surprise, Yoongi looks flustered. You can’t be sure that you’re not imagining things but from where you’re sitting it appears that Min Yoongi, your roommate of two years is rendered speechless by a dick joke.

You start laughing and can’t stop. The very notion that Yoongi could be flustered by you was a joke. He’d lived with you long enough to have seen you at your worst - which was not right now, zombie pallor aside -  at your least flattering and at your weirdest. You’d heard him make far more lewd comments to his friends and to women he’d brought home. Maybe you were imagining it, or maybe you were just too overtired but the thought was ridiculous, so utterly ridiculous that it was funny and when you were sleep deprived if you laughed, you laughed until you couldn’t breathe, until you were crying. Even when the joke may not have been that funny. “Ohmygodyoushouldseeyourface” The words come out jumbled together as you struggle to regain your breath.

“Shut up.” He chides, doing his best to not laugh with you. “Drink the stupid coffee, finish the essay and sleep before I have to organise your funeral.” With that he gets up and goes back to his room, leaving you with your cursed essay.

The coffee helps, more than you want to admit. You’d skipped dinner unintentionally and must have been running on fumes before he’d come out to help you. With caffeine rushing through your system it only took you an hour to finish your essay. Not your best work but you could edit it after resting.

Rest would come after a shower though. You had managed to catch a glimpse of your reflection in the computer screen and you really could have passed for a zombie. So you got up and dragged yourself to the bathroom, letting out a sigh of relief when the hot water touched your skin.

You let you mind wander, happy for it to think of anything other than academic topics. You thought about the party and how you might find someone of interest. You thought about your bed, and how excited you were to be welcomed into its embrace. You thought about your roommate, prickly on the outside to strangers but kinder than he ever wanted anyone to acknowledge once you got to know him.

He cooked for you when he knew you were working late or if you were sick. He’d nag you about your health and tease you about your almost non existent social life. He was always down for a movie marathon or not leaving the apartment. Of all of the roommates you could have ended up with you were glad that it was Yoongi.

You felt refreshed as you finished wrapping the towel around your body, stepping out of the bathroom and bringing yourself closer and closer to your bed. You walked with your eyes closed, humming to yourself as you made your way down the hall.

Yoongi’s voice cut through your reverie. “Finished the essay?” He sounds like he was coming from the kitchen. He must have gotten up to get some water, he always forgot to take a bottle of it to put on his bedside table, no matter how many times you reminded him.

“Mmmhmm.” You reply.

“Finally going to bed?” He asks, his voice getting closer as he comes down the hall.

“Yup.” You open your eyes as you hear his footsteps draw near. He’s standing in front of you, his eyes staring. Just as you’re about to open your mouth to ask what he’s doing he lifts his hand and ruffles your hair, a smile creeping across his face.

“Good.” He nods, still staring at you.

In your sleep deprived state you don’t think before you act, your mind still drifting in and out of memories of your roommate looking after you, making you laugh and generally being a good guy, and you tilt your head up and lightly kiss his lips. The sensation is so light and quick that it could hardly be called a kiss. You fail to notice how his body has frozen in place, the shock of what you’d just done plain as day.

Your move past him to get to your room when he grabs you by the wrist, stopping you from reaching the thing you want most in this moment. You let out a weak whine at the inconvenience but it dies in your throat the moment you look up at him.

Yoongi’s eyes pin you to the spot as they search your face, for what you don’t know. Suddenly it dawns on you that you just kissed your roommate. Your lips touched his. Your eyes widen as your brain catches up to the reality of the situation you find yourself in now. Standing in the hall between the bathroom and your rooms, you clad in only a towel and Yoongi looking better than he has any right to in an oversized tee with track pants, holding you by the wrist and staring at you in a way that should make you feel uncomfortable. He doesn’t look mad, more he looks hungry.

His eyes roam your face as he steps forward, effectively pushing you against the wall. He hesitates for only a moment, just long enough for you to show any sign of resistance, before crashing his mouth against yours. His kiss is almost desperate, ravenous even. You move your mouth in sync with his, lips parting to allow your tongues to meet. He kisses you with such fervor that you have to push him away from you in order to catch your breath.

“Yoongi?” You ask breathlessly. “Who told you it was polite to kiss like that?”

He chuckles as he leans back into you, his body almost flush against yours. “Oh trust me, it’s not intended as polite.” He cuts off whatever words you were about to say by kissing you again, this time not literally taking your breath away before moving to kiss your jaw and neck. The passion in his movements is palpable and you struggle to think of any reason why the two of you hadn’t done this before now.

[yehet-me-up]

Enchanting

Pairing: Mingyu x trans guy!reader

Genre: fluff, coffee shop AU (I cannot believe it is 2k19 and I haven’t done a coffee shop yet, it’s about time!)

Word Count: 1,746

Request: Would it be alright if you did a friends to lovers drabble with Mingyu or Chanyeol and a trans guy reader? Hello sweet bean! Your wish is my command, I so hope you enjoy this <3

It's cold and rainy and disgusting the day you meet him.

The city seems to know you're new in town and unsure of yourself. Any other day and you'd delight in the gentle fall of rain, smearing the edges of the city and surrounding you with the soft sound of cleansing and renewal.

But today, you're stressed; and the entire world seems to know it.

The bus was ten minutes late and you had to walk into your very first college class looking like a hot, frazzled mess. A car drove by and splashed frigid water onto your brand new boots in the afternoon. Your binder refuses to stop itching and you'd murder someone for a decent cup of coffee.

The entire world feels unwelcoming and harsh, you think in a sour mood. 

Everywhere aside from this hole in the wall coffee shop, that is.

As if the universe heard your prayer you find it on a back street, two blocks from the student union. You look in through the window in disbelief. 

The ceiling is high and draws in all the light it can, making the space feel cozy and welcoming despite the fall chill. You stand and shake the water from your hair and coat before pulling open the door to step inside.

A few of the circular polished birch tables are filled with other students getting a head start on homework for the quarter. A couple at a back table holds hands and smiles at each other over the rims of their large white mugs, filled with something steaming. It feels like a pocket of quiet and serenity in an otherwise frantic town.

Suddenly you shiver and remember how freezing you are. You turn to look up at the menu.

The walls are an off-white brick, the menu is a chalkboard that dominates the wall behind the counter. Neat letters list off the daily specials, the coffees and the teas, and you lick your lips in anticipation of the delicious warmth of a hazelnut latte.

The man behind the counter hums while he wipes down the machines. He looks about your age, maybe a bit older. His soothing voice blends in with the music coming through the speakers and you wonder what sort of dream you walked in on. Something about him makes your shoulders drop and some of the tension slide off of you.

He notices you watching him and straightens. His warm eyes take in the wet hair plastered to your forehead, the way your fingers grip the strap of your backpack, and the clothes you wore today because they finally make you feel like yourself.

'Hey, how's it going?' he asks, walking closer to you.

He's taller than you thought, now that's he's standing up straight. You had wondered if your tastes in men would change, now that the whirlwind of thoughts about your own gender finally resolved themselves into a cohesive whole. 

But no, you think, fighting your first real smile of the day, I still have a thing for the tall ones.

'Hanging in there,' you answer, clearing your throat and working on lowering the pitch to what feels right. 'How about you?'

'It's been good,' he says. 'But it's better now that someone in here finally has some decent music taste.'

You frown in confusion and he laughs softly, pointing and making you look down to the band tee you're wearing. 'Oh! You like them too?'

'Sure do. Not many people in this neighborhood are fans, are you new in town?'

He rests a long arm on the counter and waits patiently for you to respond, as if he’s in no hurry. 

You wonder if he's always this nice to new customers. If he knows that his long lashes and dimple will get him big tips, especially if he flirts. But you don't get the sense that he's putting on a front; he genuinely seems interested. The idea makes your stomach flip.

'I am. Just started at the U today. Is it obvious I don't fit in here?' you say with a laugh, scratching your neck self-consciously.

Coming to school out of state sounded like a good idea, a fresh start. A chance to be you, without anyone around who knew you before you started transitioning. It helps that you finally feel like yourself, or that you're on your way, at least. But today has been so much, all you want is a friendly face and a hug.

'No, not at all,' he counters with that damn megawatt smile again. 'I just haven't seen you before. And I'd definitely have remembered.'

'Oh.' The word leaves you unintentionally, without your permission. Despite the cold you feel your cheeks heating up. Okay, so. He might sort of possibly definitely be flirting. We got this.

'Well, if your hazelnut latte is good I think this will be my regular study spot.’

He laughs, a rich sound that wraps around you, stronger and more seductive than the smell of espresso. 

‘So, no pressure then,’ he quips. He pretends to roll up his non-existent sleeves and moves to the machine to begin steaming the milk.

You look around the place while he makes your order, mostly so you don’t stare at the cupid’s bow of his lips while he works. 

The art on the walls is subtle, abstract. You wonder if he chose it, he feasibly seems old enough to be the kind of person who could own a place like this. Or he could just happen to be the only person working here.

‘So what’s your name?’ he asks, drawing you back.

You tell him, standing up straighter and prouder as you say your new name, your real name. 

He nods to himself and slides the tall glass towards you, taking the card you set on the counter to run it through the machine. You wrap your hands around it, sighing as the warmth works its way through the cold in your fingers.

Before you can chicken out, you ask him what his name is. Casually, confidently. He somehow seems to make you both excited and relaxed and you don’t want the moment to end.

‘I’m Mingyu. I’m a Sophomore at the U,’ he says with a smile, handing your card back. ‘I work Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursdays after class. If you happen to like it.’

Once again he makes you frown in confusion; once again he chuckles happily, motioning to the drink you hold. ‘The latte, I mean.’

‘Oh.’ To hide your smile you take a sip of the drink. You want to moan out loud it’s so good. Instead, you tell him so. ‘It’s perfect.’

He holds your gaze for a long moment and a warmth runs through your veins that has nothing to do with hot coffee. Then the jingle of a bell sounds behind you and you turn to see three girls push through the door, shivering and talking excitedly about hot chocolates. 

When you look back, Mingyu is still watching you with a faint smile. Maybe it’s your imagination, but he looks sad to be called away.

‘I’ll see you around,’ you say, walking to find a table.

To avoid embarrassing yourself you bury your head in your thick textbook and laptop and busy yourself with note-taking. When you look up two hours later, night has fallen and there’s someone new at the register, a petite girl with red hair. You wonder what time he got off work, if he thought about waving to you and you missed it.

You wonder where he goes, if he lives with someone. Roommates or a girlfriend or boyfriend maybe. You stick your pen between your lips and wonder if he’ll remember you the next time you come in.

The next time, two days later, he looks up at the sound of the bell and smiles when he sees you. His eyes crinkle at the edges and his face is so warm and welcoming you wonder if he was expecting you, or perhaps waiting for you.

‘Hey stranger,’ he says with a sly smile. ‘How’s your day? Same thing today?’

You nod, so pleased that you have to bite your lip to avoid grinning and giving yourself away entirely.

‘Classes are good. I think I’m getting the hang of this town finally. I’m not too sure about this intro to comp lit class I’m taking, though. I might drop it but I’ll see after class tomorrow and -’ Oh god, I’m rambling.

You take a deep breath and let it out with an amused laugh. ‘Yes, another hazelnut latte would be perfect, thank you.’

He asks you about your favorite song from the band you talked about yesterday while he makes the drink. Every answer you give you try to keep short, to turn the conversation back to him, if only to hear his low, sweet voice and to watch the way his brows shoot up every time he gets excited.

When you slide your card across the counter he waves you off, saying it’s on the house.

Blessedly, no one else comes in to take his attention away, and you talk until the glass is empty. This time, the interruption comes in the form of another co-worker, tapping Mingyu out. He grins at you and lifts the apron over his head.

‘Want to grab dinner? My shift is finally over,’ Mingyu says, reaching down below the counter to find a backpack. He slips it over his shoulder and comes around the counter to stand in front of you.

The word YES feels like it wants to burst from you, but first, you have to know.  ‘As like… friends?’  You say nervously, forgetting to pitch your voice lower.

He looks down, biting his lip. ‘I don’t give my friends free coffee,’ he says smoothly, looking up at you through his lashes and sliding his hands into his pockets. ‘I make them pay double.’

The two of you laugh. ‘Okay, then,’ you say, sure that by now you’re grinning like an idiot at him.

The dimple in his cheek deepens as his lips pull back into a smile. ‘Okay, then.’

The strands of lights around the room give it a soft glow, and you think to yourself this truly is a magical place. As you push out into the once again drizzling and chilly evening you’re glad you’re taking Mingyu and all his light and warmth with you this time.