#and i wanna read the midnight library

[redroom-rainbowguts]

I'm genuinely fascinated by the way my brain absorbs writing styles. Wish I could control it but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[ambersky0319]

Apparently it's very easy to overhydrate when you're dehydrated

anyway

my day was shit but im making tomorrow my bitch

[lvlystars]

29 reasons i love you — c.sc

pairing. choi seungcheol x fem!reader

genre. fluff. just pure, teeth rotting fluff.

summary. gifting your boyfriend by just handing him the gift is overrated!!! (pls kill me i suck at summaries)

warnings. none

a/n. SEUNGCHEOL BIRTHDAYAYAYYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYYAYAYA (also happy 1 year to this blog!!!)

wc. 1.2k

you chew at your lip as you scroll through a blog, talking about how to gift your partner in various special ways. of course you had a special gift for him—you just felt like you wanted to do something small as a thoughtful little present.

“birthday kisses…their age equates to how many kisses you give them…too simple…” you mumble to yourself. your eyes widen when the next idea says the idea can apply to how many gifts you give them in the day.

no matter how much you love him, there’s no way you can gift seungcheol 29 gifts. your wallet would sob.

“baby?” you shove your phone under your pillow as your boyfriend walks into the room, drying his damp hair with a towel. you eyed the oversized white t-shirt he wore, the shirt hanging loosely over his broad shoulders as he hums to himself. 

“wanna help me with skincare?” he asks, pointing to the bathroom for you to follow him, and you nod. it was endearing how he never forgets every night—your nightly routine of doing his skincare for him, despite the fact that he is very much capable of doing it himself.

a comfortable silence envelops the both of you as you rub in seungcheol’s skin products into his soft skin, the way he grips your waist softly and stares down at you with that stupid boyish smile he always looked at you with awakening all kinds of butterflies in your stomach. that stupid smile that never seemed to give you a break ever since you met him at your old local library—when he shot that smile at you every time you spotted him on fridays, studying for your university courses, or just finding a book to read for some pass time.

“daydreaming?” his voice pulls you out of your little trip down memory lane, making you smile softly before applying some lip balm on his plump lips. you shake your head. “no, just thinking about tomorrow.” seungcheol’s eyes lit up at the mention of the special day tomorrow that he looks forward to every year: his birthday.

when his birthday rolls around, seungcheol claims that he can ‘tell’ when people are his true friends—through the test of how fast they wish him happy birthday. god knows how many times your boyfriend has sulked over one of his friends not wishing him at 12 o’clock on the dot, and lucky for you, you haven’t missed a single birthday ever since you met him. you’ve held the longest streak so far.

“sooo…what did you get me?” seungcheol grins teasingly, and you huff, rolling your eyes. “just a few more hours, you big baby. you can wait.” you scold him, making him pout just a little, his stance deflating.

“now let’s go to sleep. i promise to wake you up and wish you at 12 on the dot, i have an alarm too. now come.” you reassure him, grabbing his wrist and leading him to the bed before sliding in. seungcheol’s arm immediately wraps around your midriff out of habit, pulling you flush against his chest as he softly inhales your scent and presses a chaste kiss to the crook of your neck.

“even if you didn’t get me a gift, you’re the best present, y’know? waking up next to you is like…the best thing in the world. the best gift in the world that i get everyday.” he hums, making you chuckle at his groggy words as he slipped into his slumber.

———

you wake up and check the time, mentally thanking whatever forced you to wake up at this time, since it was about half an hour before midnight. you try to unravel yourself from seungcheol’s hold, making him stir a little before sighing again, lying on his back.

you pull out your phone, reopening the blog, and you wait for the page to refresh when an idea pops into your head, making you immediately pull out every sticky note you had in your study.

you were quick to grab a pen and doodle on 29 sticky notes, each sticky note having a small drawing and under it a little 'nth reason why i love you: check (certain location where another sticky would be)', boasting at your original idea and giddy at how your boyfriend would react.

a while later, the clock finally strikes 12, and you sigh in relief when you finally put the finishing touches in your gift before running to your shared bedroom to wake seungcheol up, who was snoring softly in the covers.

“seungcheol…” you hum, coaxing him to wake up softly, and he doesn’t respond. frowning a little, you pat him, and he groans, shaking his head. finally, you yell at him.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY SEUNGCHEOL!” he jolts awake, eyes snapping open as they dart around the room in panic before settling on you, pouting while squinting from the hallway light hitting his face. “wha…?”

“get up! i have to give you my gift!” you pull on his arm, and he groans, sitting up while rubbing his eyes awake. he whines something about it waiting until the morning, until he finally realises why you woke him up.

“birthday surprise?” he grins, his eyes now wide awake, and you nod.

“it’s like a scavenger hunt. i placed sticky notes around the place up until the present, and they’re numbered. each sticky note has a clue for where you should look for the next sticky note.” you grin, proud of your little idea, and he raises an eyebrow, endeared at your little activity for him. “there are 29 sticky notes for your age. go look!” you urge him, pushing him to the night stand. as he starts looking, you quickly go to hide with the present.

———

after what seemed like eternity, you finally hear the door to the study room open, and seungcheol pokes his head inside, his hand filled with yellow sticky notes. you held a small jewellery box in your hands, along with a birthday cake lit on the desk, and seungcheol beams when he takes in the sight.

“happy birthday, coups.” you smiled, and he walks up to the desk, his face in awe as he admired the cake, which had a small lion perched on the top with a tiny birthday hat. “for me?” he murmured, looking at you softly, and you nod, handing him the jewellry box excitedly.

when he opens the box, his eyes widen as he admires the charm bracelet you bought, the charms carefully picked by yourself as a small gift for how much he’s done for you ever since you met him. a cherry, a charm of his star sign constellation, and a series of certain charms that had him begging you to tell him the meaning behind each one.

“what about this one?” he asked giddily, pointing to a book charm, and you stared at him with a deadpan look on his face. “how we met? at the library? when you would harass me every single friday by—” “OKAYYY i get it i get it.”

you both walk back to bed once you finish explaining every single detail about the charm bracelet, seungcheol picks up his phone to be bombarded with numerous ‘happy birthday’ messages. he eagerly showed you every single message, showing you all the people who wished him a happy birthday as you cuddle up next to him in bed, lying your head down on his chest and smiling up at him. once you both get comfortable, seungcheol finally puts his phone away, hugging you close to his chest and kissing your temple.

“happy birthday, cheol.”

tags 🏷️ – @arafilez @etherealyoungk @fairyhaos @georgia-hong @gyuguys @voidsatoru @kyeomyun @starshuas @welcometomyoasis @wqnwoos @wheeboo @yoonzinuhh @seuonji @shieunviya @mykpopficblog @chaatandchai @haowrld

networks 🔗 – @c-bouquine @cacaokpop-fics @k-labels

SVT WORKS

send an ask or drop a comment if you want to be added to my general taglist!

ⓒ lvlystars

[diorcities]

⠀   ⠀ ── 𖥻 🌕 ‧₊˚⊹ you're the only one !

nct dream hurt/comfort hc. requested. le and ji are not in the original. i took so long, sorryyy D': happy reading ♡♡ . library.

mark.

he was growing worried about you. he's even checked his phone a couple of times to see if you've texted him. nothing. for the last few days. “wanna go grab some food?”

he has a hard time hanging up after your phone sent him right into the mailbox twice. food. yes. he's been missing eating food lately, he has been trying all the restaurants but always has a bad taste; as if something was missing. “this is the best bulgogi ever, trust,” haechan says when he sees the woman approaching their table.

the dish arrives steaming and his mouth waters. it looks delicious but... “excuse me, the rice doesn't come with vegetables?” haechan burst out laughing, yet mark is sure it has, he's tried it a bunch of times before. “vegetables? sure, honey. i can put some, which ones would you like?”

he stares at his meal thinking until it hits him. it's inevitable to think of you because you would know. of course; no food tastes good to him, because you are missing. “imma go.” haechan looks at him dumbfounded, but ends up shrugging and sliding his meal closer to himself. “say yn i said hi,” he simply says when mark's about to leave, and he can't help but smile and nod; he knows now. he knows.

what should he say? what could he possibly say that erases the fact that he behaved so awfully? don't you even want to see him? his gaze shoots upwards when he hears the door bolt, followed by your face bathed in surprise when you see him standing in front of you. “did you forget the passcode?” he hears you ask.

he stays there in awe before a blush creeps his neck 'cause just now he has realized that he was standing for a long time in front of your door. mark would definitely ask you even when he's in a nervous wreck if you still want him, if it were not for the fact that he notices the imperceptible but gentle message you send him when you open the door a little more, letting him in one more time, with you.

renjun.

one by one, renjun watches his friends leave until he's left alone, and he thinks it's so unfair. for half an hour, he listens impatiently to his manager talk about nonsensical things that don't take him long to decipher. that is, until he can finally retire.

the wind blows cold after midnight. he thinks he's late and can't afford it. not this time. not after having done so in the past. and as he runs to catch a taxi, renjun thinks it's his last chance to redeem himself.

one last chance with you.

it feels stupid that it took him so long to figure it out. he's sorry. he feels sick and forlorn. he shouldn't have taken things for granted, what was wrong with him? what is wrong with him now? the air feels very light, he can hardly breathe, and when he arrives in front of the door, the world spins under his feet. he bangs on the door while his ears ring, and it takes a few seconds for him to focus his gaze when it finally opens.

“sorry... i was... they wanted to talk and...” shit. nothing comes out now? he's got to be kidding. “i didn't want to miss it again.” his whole body vibrates and collapses, but not because of all the physical effort it has taken him to climb the stairs because the elevator did not deign to hurry, but because your hands, your soft hands cradle his face.

“i think you're having a stroke,” you say softly, and his body caves in and step a little closer to you.

“i'm sorry,” he says again.

“what for?”

“missing my own birthday many times for so long.” his confession burns, especially when it brings back memories of what he did, of what he did to you.

“you're here now.” you hug him and suddenly he can breathe again. and it feels warm, and soft and so easy. “d'you want to come in?”

“i'd love to.” he lets you take his hand... —he's dreamed of you taking his hand again. and covering his eyes like before while you guide him, —while he follows you blindly.

and the lights make your eyes shine brighter, and just as the candles begin to melt so do the stars they contain.

meringue looks like clouds of sugar, and on your lips, they taste like heaven.

jeno.

it was so hard to pretend in front of his parents that everything was fine between you at dinner. the truth is that nothing was right and jeno knew it; nothing was the same and it was his fault.

the idea had been yours, he had no choice but to play along; they had planned dinner for a long time before everything went wrong... before he spoiled everything. all it took him was to see you to know how much he had screwed up: you haven't looked at him once.

jeno feels frustrated, he lets you talk; you've always been good with words. hearing you say you wanted to break up had caught him off guard but not unprepared. he's a complete idiot and a wretch because it didn't occur to him first, but maybe it's for the best.

why then does he feel physically bad just imagining it? he looks at you for a long time that his mother notices. “aw... sweetheart. she's a beauty, isn't she?” it immediately catches your attention and now you watch him nod before you look away; she thinks you're in love, but jeno feels you're falling out of it.

it's torture to stare at you all night, and he wants to keep this moment trapped in amber. he wants... he wishes upon a star to go back in time, because maybe he would be more mature, maybe he wouldn't tell you all those things and instead fill you with love.

and now his mom packs your favorite food from leftovers that is sure to spoil in his fridge because you're not going to be there when you come home and he won't have the courage to throw it away because he wants to hold onto you.

because he's never stopped being in love with you.

haechan.

haechan limited himself to three things: playing a couple of video games to de-stress 'til getting knocked out of sleep in the wee hours of midnight, going drinking with his friends until he lost consciousness, or just walking around to clear his mind; his thoughts never left him alone. they never shut up, and he hasn't found yet an interrupter that could turn them off.

they are mostly things he has to do and things he has done and not done equally. they torture him. perhaps he deserves it. he lists them like a mantra as he opens the door and a sigh comes from his lips because he's exhausted from everyone and everything; he even dislikes his friends, but haechan knows that part of it is because he has not been feeling very well lately.

he spends his time drowning in adrenaline and euphoria to keep him from thinking, and he stays longer in the dance practice room to release stress so he can forget for a moment how lonely he feels. how empty the everything makes him feel, and suddenly he's sick in the stomach at the thought of arriving at the apartment and find out you won't share it with him anymore.

it only takes a look at you there, and everything mutates when he opens the door and finds you asleep on the uncomfortable sofa in the living room, and his heart beat faster.

he tries to make as little noise as possible but you've always been a light sleeper and when he wants to cover you with a blanket and take you to the bedroom, you look at him with black, glowing eyes. “why haven't you gone to the room, honey?”

“i was...” he's so scared maybe you can feel it in the space between, in the way he holds his breath as you try to find the words he wants you not to pronounce. and if not, then he gives himself away when he exhales and his grip tightens when you say to his relief, “waiting for you.”

the blanket falls from your shoulders and it is only at that moment that you realize it was there. then you look at it, deeper, as if the gesture was long forgotten 'til now. and he feels helplessly; he's been such an idiot, so full of himself, so full of guilt, and it only takes a caress of you so that everything fades, so that his heart weighs less. “let's go then, love.”

jaemin.

there's people dancing on tables and beer running cold in his hand. everybody chants, “happy birthday to you.” while clapping. jisung curls his lips but his smile falters; he should be more happy. all his friends came to his birthday party and he's having fun... isn't he? “make a wish!”he comes out of his reverie and the candles flicker and look dazzling.

what could he wish that he no longer had? he has his best friends, he has his family, he is in good health and prosperous because he does what he likes. jaemin entertains himself by listing the good luck he has; it may be that the lack of some desire is a consequence of the fact that he already has everything. that finding neither good nor bad is the perfect state.

but then he comes back to reality and everyone is looking at him and the candle melting, so he wishes...

he gets wasted in hopes of stopping sensing that odd weight on his guts, and he's probably kissed a thousand lips before he gets sick to his stomach, and he can no longer ignore it; he should stop drinking before he does something stupid, like throwing up or acknowledging that maybe he does know what it is because ever since he broke up with you this feeling creeps on his chest and he drinks to get rid of it; but not tonight. not tonight.

fuck, he needs to hear your voice.

no, wait. that's stupid. DON'T. DO. IT. NA. JAEMIN.

“hello?” the line sounds muffled, or perhaps it is because he feels his unbridled pulse breaking his eardrums. there is silence, and he's left alone with his thoughts, finding out very late that this was a BAD idea. yet if it was, why is he grinning, then?

where are you? did he wake you? or are you looking at the same stars as him?

“hello, who's this?”

his breath condenses in front of his eyes, mouth softly part open as he tries to string the words, but his tongue feels heavy, and much more than that, his heart.

are you looking at the same stars as him, like you used to on his birthday?

“jaemin?”

the line goes silent, and jaemin realizes that he's no longer smiling. because he's been a fool; he spends his time drinking non-stop in search of numbing the heavy load in his chest, and just the sound of your voice does all the work it takes him to achieve that.

“are you looking at the stars?” he asks after clear his throat of all the apologies he wants to say, because you don't deserve it; you're meant for someone better than him.

“i am...” and yet, feeling hopeful is the only thing that keeps him from saying it. “but... it's not the same to look at the stars alone.” feeling that something can happen again makes him go where you are.

[catcze]

i love reading your works, they make excited to read again

but i was wondering, how do you think wriothesley would be in a royal au where we’re the noble and he’s our bodygaurd?? 👀

!!! THE WAY I LOVE THIS TROPE SO MUCHAKJSNDKJNASJDNAKSJ

Bodyguard! Wriothesley is quite possibly the best thing that's ever happened to you. He's relaxed— much less uptight and by-the-books as some of the bodyguard that have been with you in the past.

Bodyguard! Wriothesley doesn't try to limit your movements or the activities you do, only under the condition that he either comes with you or that you don't do anything outright life-endangering. You wanna dress up as a regular person and wander around the city? Sure. Just let him know, and he'll even procure the disguises the two of you will use. You want to go for a walk in the woods? As long as you both stick to the safer paths and don't stay out past dark, he doesn't see why not.

Bodyguard! Wriothesley cares for your sake. He lets you indulge in whatever hobbies you like— gardening, embroidering, horseback riding, sword-fighting. Whatever it may be, he accompanies you and just lets you have your fun. He even helps you out sometimes, such as sparring with you, or being the one to hold your books for you as you wander around the library.

Bodyguard! Wriothesley even helps you when it comes to your official duties as a noble. He can't help directly, of course, but he helps you organize your files, sort through the numerous documents on your desk, and even provides some useful input in the fields where he's got some experience. Not to mention, when he's your only company in that lonely lonely office for hours to come, he converses with you during the slower periods of time. He talks about anything under the sun— anything that he thinks you'll find interesting, or that might elicit a smile from you. Be it anecdotes from his own life, stories from his time before being a bodyguard, or even just interesting facts he's learned from a book he's found in the library. If he sees you needing a mental break, he's more than happy to provide.

Bodyguard! Wriothesley who accompanies you in your office in the late evenings, long after you've already dismissed him for the night. The moon could be high overhead, the owls hooting and the fireplace in your office crackling away, and this man will absolutely refuse to leave your side until you're finished. To your face, he tells you that it's out of duty. That a risk to your life could come even this late at night, and that so long as you are vigilant with your duties, so shall he. But a teeny tiny little part of his heart is doing it because he wants to make sure that you're alright, too. That while you burn the midnight oil, there is water in the pitcher by your desk, and fresh slices of fruit in the plate. He wants to make sure that your office is neither too cold nor too hot, and that if you choose to stay up late in the winters where the fireplace cannot keep up with the chill, he is there to offer his own coat is he sees you shivering.

Bodyguard! Wriothesley who has, as a result of you being so committed to your duties and your people, been faced with the dilemma of you falling asleep at your desk more than once. Each time, he's hesitant to wake you from your slumber. If anyone knows how hard you work and how badly you need each second of rest, it is the man who hardly ever leaves your side. So instead, he approaches your dozing form hesitantly, shaking your shoulder just slightly with a gentle touch until you rouse a little.

"Your grace," Wriothesley murmurs, keeping his voice low. "I believe it's time to call it a night."

You say nothing for a few seconds, processing what he's said, but you eventiually nod, letting the smallest of yawns escape you. Wriothesley tries to hide his smile.

Then a thought crosses his mind, and though he hesitates to even offer, he sees you starting to doze off again where you sit, and he can't imagine that to be any good for your back or your neck come morning.

"Would you like me to carry you back to your room, your grace?" He asks softly— so quietly, that if he wasn't this close, you don't think you would have heard it. But you do, in fact, hear him. And while you would normally be rather embarrassed to have your bodyguard carry you anywhere, your sleepiness overrules most thoughts of embarrassment and hesitation. In this state, the most important thing is getting back to your room and getting a proper rest, so you nod.

Wriothesley puts out the fireplace in record time, returning to your barely-awake form swiftly. He easily grabs the keys to your office off your desk and hooks the keyring onto his finger.

"Alright, I'm going to lift you up now, your grace," He murmurs, one hand hooked under your legs, the other circling around your back and cradling you against him securely. You barely stir when he lifts you up, doing little more than humming .

Expertly and making sure not to jostle you, Wriothesley maneuvers you out of the office, making sure to lock it securely behind him. As he begins walking in the direction of your chambers, he can feel you leaning more and more into his hold, your head resting right above his chest. No doubt you're already half-way to dreamland, which he finds incredibly endearing.

"You can sleep for now, your grace. I'll get you back safely." His voice is so soft, like the finest silk. Softer than any of the robes you have in your closet, than the sheets that lay on your bed. You wish you could fall into that softness and slumber for hours and hours.

You lean further into Wriothesley's firm chest, thinking nothing of the way his heart seems to hasten, or how he grows warm under your touch. Sleep creeps forward more and more with each passing second, wrapping you in it's warm tendrils.

Before you completely lose yourself to it though, you manage to whisper a quiet, "Thank you, Wriothesley."

And oh, if his heart doesn't melt right then and there. You asleep in his arms, looking more relaxed than he's ever seen you. Wriothesley adjusts his grip on you slightly, making sure that you're comfortable in his grasp. And if he slows his pace a bit, unwilling to have the walk to your chambers end so quickly, that's just for him to know.

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[bookyeom]

pairing: hoshi x reader word count: 3k warnings: kissing, reader is a bad dancer?

Author’s Note: this fic is part of the Thirteen Valentines event, but can be read as a standalone! also, i would suggest listening to the song listed below to get a feel for the vibe of the fic, but it’s not necessary.

dance with me by sarah kang ft. cody dear

'cause boy when i'm alone with you you make me wanna sway, wanna move

dance with me 나랑 춤출래? i don't care about where or when pick a song that never ends

You and Soonyoung have been stuck in some weird, uncharted territory for months now. 

He’s your friend, but he’s also so much more than that. You know it, and you’re pretty sure he knows it, too.  

You’d do anything for him, really. So when he asks you to meet him at the studio before you head home so that he can show you something new he’s working on, you don’t hesitate. Even though it’s midnight, and you’re exhausted from hours spent studying in the library – because Soonyoung is calling.

You can hear music as you approach the practice room, recognizing it as the song for the dance he’s been rehearsing for his final exam, so you’re surprised when you don’t see him through the windows at all. You turn the handle on the door to the room tentatively, opening it just enough to peek inside. And you smile.

Soonyoung is lying flat on his back near the wall closest to you, his chest heaving as he stares up at the ceiling. You watch as he marks the movements in small gestures from his spot on the floor, bobbing his head to the beat, as if he’s taking only half a break. You’ve been friends for quite some time now, and you know him well enough to know that his mind won’t settle until he’s perfected what he’s practicing. He’ll rest his body if he has to, if it makes him, but even then, you know he’s always going over choreo in his head. Like right now. 

You wait until the song is finished, until there’s quiet, and then you speak. “I was invited here to see some dancing, but it looks like I’m in the wrong place.”

Soonyoung’s head falls back onto the floor as he looks over, a grin spreading across his lips when he meets your eyes. He’s looking at you upside down, and it makes you laugh. Then you’re suddenly not laughing anymore, because within seconds he’s pushed to his feet and is bounding over to wrap you in a warm, sweaty hug. Now, your heart is racing.

“Hi!” He beams, moving back to squeeze you by the biceps. 

“Hey, Soonyoung,” you manage. 

“I was just taking a break,” he explains, and you nod. “Don’t worry, that’s the first one I’ve taken all evening–”

You narrow your eyes at him. “I wasn’t worried before, but now I am, if you're telling me that’s the only break you’ve taken from dancing in the last four hours.”

He just laughs, letting go of you, and you roll your eyes. “Go sit over there, I’ll run it again. I don’t need you to help with much… There’s just this one part in the chorus where it feels a little stiff. Just tell me if anything feels,” he gestures into the air vaguely, “off.”

You nod, mock saluting him as you take your place on one of the chairs scattered along the wall on the other side of the room.

You watch as he sets up the song again, your cheeks warming when he begins shrugging off his hoodie. He’s turned away, his back and shoulders now on full display for you in the tank he’s wearing, and you can’t help but stare. You abruptly look down at your feet when he turns back towards you, the first beats of the song beginning to play. You look at him again as he zones in, squaring his shoulders and getting into position as he watches himself in the mirror. 

You don’t have a single rhythmic bone in your body. Watching anyone dance is mind blowing to you, but especially Soonyoung. He’s incredible. Why he wants your advice on his dancing is beyond you, but he always insists, and you’ve never been good at denying him anything.

And why would you even want to deny this? This — a front row seat to one of the most beautiful works of art you’ve ever seen. Soonyoung takes your breath away all the time, but especially like this. 

You’re so caught up in his movements that you don’t even recognize when the chorus hits, when it gets to the part you’re supposed to pay extra attention to. You’re in a trance, only snapping out of it when he makes one final turn, and the song ends. You blink, watching as Soonyoung returns to himself, the performer in him calming with every breath he takes. He lets his shoulders drop, lets his body relax, and then he lets out a loud sigh of relief. He crosses the room and joins you, falling into the chair next to yours, and drops his head onto your shoulder. 

You remind yourself to breathe.

“So?” He’s still breathless. You suddenly remember why you’re there, why he asked you to come and what he asked you to do, and you flush when you realize that you were too dazed to really notice if anything was amiss. 

“This is your best one yet,” you tell him honestly. Which is the truth, because despite your ogling, you would have noticed if anything was glaringly wrong.

“Really?”

You nod. “You’re amazing, Soonyoung.”

The words come out much softer than you intended, much more honest, and you can only hope he doesn’t read into any of it. He doesn’t say anything for a while, and you’re running out of reasons not to panic when he says, “Dance with me?”

Your eyes widen as he lifts his head and turns to you with a smile. 

“What?”

He lifts his head from your shoulder and stands up, holding out a hand for you to take. “Come on,” he grins, wiggling his outstretched fingers when you don't move. “I’ll teach you some of the easier moves.”

You let him pull you up, even as you continue to protest. “Soonyoung, you know—“

“Come on,” he insists, “you can do it!”

You groan. “I really can’t, you know this! I can’t dance, Soonyoung, I—”

“You can’t dance well,” he corrects, and you level him with a glare. He just grins wider as he adds, “but I know you like to! I’ve seen you on our nights out.”

You willfully ignore how his last comment makes you feel, trying desperately not to flush crimson red at his observation. At the fact that he’s noticed these things. “Yeah, so you already know I look like an idiot.”

“You look,” Soonyoung counters, “like you’re having a lot of fun. I’ve seen the way you smile when you’re dancing with your friends.”

You try once more. “No one is judging me there.”

“No one is judging you here, either.”

You open your mouth but nothing comes out, because you can’t argue with that. You know he would never judge you – for anything. You huff, narrowing your brows as you give him a mock glare, but your shoulders fall in defeat. Soonyoung giggles – your favourite sound – and leads you into the middle of the room.

He doesn’t waste any time as he begins to guide you through what he claims is one of the easier steps to master, and to your surprise, you actually kind of get the hang of it. He’s a good teacher, you note, because of course he is, and you feel a bit less anxious with every “good job!” and cheer he sends your way. 

You continue to practice the same small sequence for a bit. When Soonyoung places both arms on your shoulders and stares you directly in the eyes, you stop breathing for a second.

“Okay,” he says, “this is the last move of this part, but it’s a bit hard.” He draws his lip between his teeth, and you watch it happen, because what else are you supposed to do? You think he notices, because his mouth quirks up at the side, but he doesn’t say anything except for, “You up for it?”

You don’t think you say yes, but he begins to teach you, anyway. And he’s right – this last move is hard. He continues to encourage you, and you continue to try and try and try, and –

You let out an ungodly squeal when you finally land in the right spot, pumping a fist into the air. “Yes! I nailed that!” 

You try one more time, two more times, and it’s not perfect — but you do it. 

You don’t even notice the way Soonyoung is looking at you until after you do the move for the third time. When you do, your heart leaps into your throat. He’s got his arms crossed as he smiles over at you, soft, and you think there’s a pink flush on his cheeks that wasn’t there before. You try and tell yourself it’s from the dancing, even though you know it’s you that’s been exerting yourself for the last half hour, not him. He looks so fond, and happy, and there’s something else you can’t quite put a finger on. All you know is that it’s making your entire body warm. 

“What?” You ask as steadily as you can manage.

He just shakes his head. Then he abruptly looks down as if shaking himself out of a stupor, a hand lifting to scratch at the back of his neck, and you’re frozen in place. What was that all about?

“High five,” he offers, cutting of your train of thought, and it takes you a second to register what he’s asking for. 

And when your hand lifts to meet his, he doesn’t let go. 

It all happens at once. His fingers intertwine with yours, his other hand finds your waist, and suddenly he’s so close to you that you forget how to think. You know there’s no mistaking the shakiness in the exhale that leaves you. 

“Is this part of the choreo?” You finally manage, voice barely a whisper, and Soonyoung lets out a soft breath.

“No,” he admits, his voice low.

His hand slides around to your lower back, testing the waters further. His other hand falls from yours, his eyes searching for any sign of discomfort before he pulls you in even closer, like he can’t stop himself.

“What about this?” Your voice is so, so quiet.

“No.”

His voice is soft in the emptiness of the practice room around you. Your bodies are flush now, chest to chest, and you think that if he wasn’t holding you up, your knees would buckle. His eyes still haven’t left yours, waiting, though you don’t know for what. His gaze only breaks from yours to wander across your face; your eyes, your nose, your mouth. You can’t help the soft exhale that leaves you when his eyes find your lips, and you know he notices because you can feel his fingers tighten their grip on the back of your shirt. 

Moments pass like that, and when you still don’t move away, Soonyoung lets out a soft breath of air that you didn’t realize he’d been holding. His next movements are slow and calculated, leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours, his eyes falling shut. Your hand lifts to his chest, and you’re surprised when you feel just how fast his heart is beating. 

“Soonyoung?” You question softly after a moment, impressed that your voice even makes it out at all. He responds with an almost imperceptible shake of his head, his eyes still closed.

“I just… Just give me a second,” he murmurs, and your heart is racing so fast you’re sure he can hear it in the quiet of the practice room.

“Okay.” 

You have no idea what’s going on. All you know is that you trust Soonyoung with your life, and if he needs a minute — you’ll give him ten. You think that maybe you’re the one who needs a minute, though, because you’re not sure how you’re still breathing, let alone standing upright with him this close. 

So close that your breaths are mingling together in the small space that’s left between you, so close that you can count every single one of those beautiful eyelashes as they flutter against his cheek.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says, and your eyebrows furrow. 

“For what?” Your hand moves of its own accord, moving from his chest to find his bicep and squeezing gently to remind him that he’s okay. He lets out a hum, but he still doesn’t open his eyes, and you’re almost worried now.

“I’m sorry if this is weird. If I’m being weird,” he elaborates. “It’s just that — well, honestly, ah,” he seems to attempt to squeeze his eyes shut even more, if that were possible. “I’ve really been wanting to kiss you lately — like, more than usual, which is already a lot — fuck, sorry.” He inhales sharply. “You just looked so cute watching me before, and dancing with me now, so I thought that I… and then you didn’t move away, so I thought that maybe you…” He trails off again, and you’re sure your ears are playing tricks on you. 

You move your forehead away from his, and his eyes finally open at the loss of contact. When your gaze meets his, your breath is nearly stolen away from you. He looks terrified as he searches your face, his eyebrows furrowed, and you know him so well that you swear you can hear him overthinking everything. His grip loosens on the back of your shirt but he doesn’t let go, and you can tell he wants to speak again based on the way his mouth opens and closes, but he doesn’t. You haven’t moved, and he doesn’t either, and you know he’s letting you decide how to respond. He would give you all the space in the world if you asked for it, you know that.

You don’t want space, though.

“It’s not weird,” you finally say, a blush spreading across your cheeks as you speak. “I’ve been feeling like that, too.”

Soonyoung’s eyes widen, and he blinks slowly. He takes a moment, processing, and then he starts, “You—”

“I swear all I think about these days is kissing you,” you blurt out, and you’re not sure who’s blushing harder now, you or him. 

Before you even know what’s happening, Soonyoung is surging forward to close the whisper of distance that remains between the two of you. Then his lips are pressed to yours, hot and slow and lingering, his hand lifting to your jaw to angle your face so that he can kiss you even deeper. You let out an almost pathetic sounding whimper at the intensity of the kiss, at how warm and soft and good his mouth feels against yours, and he hums in return.

When he pulls away, it takes a second for your own eyes to flutter back open. He’s smiling so wide that his eyes have turned into crescent moons. 

“Holy fuck, Soonyoung.” You’re breathless, and you can tell he’s pleased with your comment as his thumb caresses the side of your jaw.

“So much better than I could have ever imagined,” he returns, and you flush. “And trust me, I’ve thought about it a lot.”

You move to bury your face in the space between his neck and shoulder, not caring at all that he’s sweaty and warm. His arms pull you in, holding you close to his chest, and you hum as he gently sways the two of you. 

“Now neither of us has to wonder what it’s like anymore,” you say softly.

“You’re right,” he agrees, pulling you back so he can look down at you again. His hands clasp together at the small of your back as he leans forward to teasingly brush his nose against yours. “Now that I know what it feels like to kiss you, though, I’m definitely going to be thinking about it even more than I already was.”

Your arms wind your way around his neck. “Me, too.” 

“I mean…” Soonyoung is grinning, smile so bright it could outshine the sun, as he says, “We could just… keep doing it.” 

You pull him into you so abruptly that it makes you stumble, falling in a tangle of limbs down to the practice room floor. You wince as you land on Soonyoung, but he’s laughing as you roll off and onto your back beside him. You throw a hand over your eyes, and you can feel it as Soonyoung lifts onto his side next to you. A hand moves to trace patterns on your arm, and you can’t help the shiver that courses through you.

“You didn’t hurt me,” he murmurs, and you can still hear the smile in his voice.

“I know. I’m just… Embarrassed.”

Soonyoung’s fingers halt their motions as he finds your hand and brings your arm away from your face, entwining his fingers with yours. He continues to play with your fingers, his body firm against your side as he leans against you. “Why are you embarrassed?”

“I was trying to be sexy and I literally tripped us, Soonyoung. This is why you’re the dancer and I’m not.”

Soonyoung’s mouth moves slowly, almost painstakingly slow, as a smile takes over his face. 

He doesn’t say anything, and you’re about to let out a whine because you’re even more embarrassed with him looking at you like that. But he sits up, bringing you with him. The soft smile on his mouth grows, and grows, and grows, until his grin has widened so much that it’s taken over his entire face. 

“You like me,” he whispers, and you can’t help the giggle that tumbles past your lips. You flush, giddy over how giddy he is, and you nod. 

“Yeah,” you whisper. “I really, really do.”

A/N: thank you so much to everyone for all the love on the other fics so far :) Sorry a new fic took so long, there's been a lot going on in my life that I did not foresee lol. Thanks for waiting xx

Please please please reblog if you can to spread the word, and check out the Thirteen Valentines masterlist! If you want to be added to the taglist, send me a message :) Your kind comments and reblogs don’t go unnoticed, I promise.

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[berryyuni]

Heyy 𖹭 luv ur writing!

I was wondering if you could possibly do a Ni-ki x Reader (best friends who like eachother tho, not dating) where Ni-ki shows up at readers house at like midnight to bring her over to his place instead. Or something along those lines where reader doesn't wanna be in her own house and Ni-ki helps her thru it ykyk?

Thankuuu :33

a place where i can go - nrk

✿ the "what are we" conversation can be terrifyingly awkward especially if you have so much to lose. but luckily, you have the most patient and understanding boy by your side.

pairing - bsf!ni-ki x gn!reader genre - bsfs who have feelings for each other, fluff, a hint of angst wc - 1.3k warnings - reader is overwhelmed with life, ni-ki and reader have a interesting relationship but aren't doing anything to solve it

tiana's note 🎀 - thank you so much anon for being so patient with me and thank you for requesting ! i hope i did you justice with this request, enjoy reading <33

౨ৎ reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated !! <3 ✧˖° ... (library)

“i’m on my way” was the last thing riki texted you before leaving you - once again - alone with your thoughts. he’s currently on his way to pick you up and bring you to his place instead because you honestly couldn’t stand being at home right now. you have been bombarded with work and school and life just keeps throwing things at you. you couldn’t take it anymore. you needed to escape. and the first thing that came to mind was texting riki. he is the one you always go to with no hesitation. and he’ll always be the one to drop everything he’s doing to make sure you’re okay. 

you packed a bag filled with all your necessities for the night and next morning since you planned on spending the night with riki. this wasn’t anything new. in fact, you spent the night at his place quite often. you can even say that you slept better at his place than yours. you just felt safe and secure in his presence. your phone pinged, “here” riki said. you quickly thumbs up his message and left your house.

“hey,” you greeted him after you got into his car, “i’m so sorry for texting so late, i swear i was gonna go crazy if i stayed in that house for any longer.”

“no it’s okay,” he shook his head and pulled you in for a hug, “you doing okay?” he asked with a concerned look.

“yeah i just…i needed to get out for a bit. to breathe a little, you know?” he gave you a reassuring smile and nodded.

“let’s go home?” he grabbed your hand and rubbed his thumb on top of it.

you nodded, “let’s go home.”

as you drove to his place, he never once let go of your hand. every now and then, he would spare you a few glances, smiling at you whenever the two of you made eye contact - making you feel at ease. not a single word had to be said between you.

once arriving at riki’s place, he leaves you in the living room to get settled while he runs to grab some blankets and pillows for the two of you. he returns shortly after and seats himself next to you. the soft glow from the tv illuminated the room, creating a cozy ambiance. in the background, a faint melody from your favorite movie played. it was clear that you were still stuck in your head. riki didn’t fail to notice as you stared down at your lap, fidgeting with your fingers, "do you want to talk about it?" he asked, softly nudging your shoulder .

you shrugged, "there's not really much to talk about, life happens and it gets overwhelming sometimes," you sighed and laid your head against his shoulder, "i just needed to escape for a bit, you know?"

you can hear him chuckle under his breath, "just say you wanted to see me," he teased, "’it’s okay, i won’t judge because you’re down bad for me." 

you scoffed,playfully pushing his face away, "alright enough," it was silent before the two of you started to laugh, "you're the one who jumped at the opportunity to come get me."

riki stopped laughing and said, "well, who else would you go to? i promised that i'd always be there for you, didn’t i?"

"that's true," you murmured, "you're really all i have at this point."

he opened his mouth to say something but quickly stopped, taking a moment to find the right words, "is that a bad thing?"

"not at all, honestly..." you shook your head, "i wouldn't even trade it for the world. i’m pretty happy with the way things are." you grinned, looking over at him to which you noticed that his eyes were already on you, even glimmering in the darkness. you felt yourself getting lost in his eyes. your heartbeat increased.

he was the first one to break eye contact, "this is quite an interesting relationship you and i have." he said in a teasing tone. he looked over to your lap and grabbed your hand that was currently resting on it. he had this habit of playing with your fingers whenever he was bored. it was something you've always found endearing.

"yeah," you dragged out, "friendship..."

he was right about your relationship being “interesting”. both of you have known for quite some time that you have strong mutual feelings for each other. but what have you done about it? absolutely nothing. you’re still labeled as “just friends”. it kind of just became an unspoken thing between you two. to be fair though, there were reasons behind this. one, you’re not really in a rush to move forward with your relationship plus with how hectic your life is right now, you’re afraid that could take away from the fun of being together. you’re already in a good place with him so you don’t feel so obligated to take the next step so soon. and two, even if things did go well and you finally start dating riki, you're afraid that it might change things between you two. you're scared of the fact that you could potentially lose him. so what do you do to avoid this? keep it all to yourself.

a heavy silence filled the air as none of you had any idea what to say next. mentally cursing at yourself for making things awkward, your eyes looked at anything but riki.

the next few words that left his mouth caused you to bring your attention back towards him, “…do you ever think about if we weren’t just friends?” he hesitantly asked.

“do you?”

“i asked you first.”

letting out a breath, you admit, “i do and it scares me sometimes,” you felt his hand squeeze yours, encouraging you to continue, “because there would be a chance of me losing you whether it’d be because we break up or things just get weird once we actually start dating. i just can’t stand the idea of not having you in my life, riki.”

“hey,” he grabbed your face and gently rubbed his thumbs against your cheeks, “my promise i made to you will never be broken. i’m not going anywhere. and even if things don’t work out between us…i’ll make sure that everything’s going to be okay. you’re important to me too so i’ll do everything in my power to keep you in my life.”

“you promise?” you looked into his eyes.

“i promise,” not wanting to overstep his boundaries, he leans in to press a kiss on your forehead, “i got you.”

you have him and he has you. and that’s all that matters. 

“i know you’re probably not ready to move forward with our relationship and that’s totally okay. i don’t ever want you to think i’m rushing you, but i want you to know that i’ll always wait for you. as long as it takes, y/n.” 

“riki-“ you started but you were interrupted.

“you don’t need to say anything, i don’t want you worrying about anything else. we're here to get your mind off of everything. it’s just something i needed to say.”

the only thing you could do was nod at him. there was so much you wanted to say but for some reason, you weren’t able to verbalize it. but somehow riki understood it all. you didn’t need to say a thing for him to understand. that’s how it’s always been. he knew you too well.

putting everything aside, the two of you spent the rest of the night talking and joking around, all your troubles long forgotten. you felt your eyes get heavier and heavier and shortly after you found yourself fast asleep in riki’s warm and secure embrace.

watching as you slept soundly in his arms, riki knew that he would give you the entire world if he could. friend or lover, he’ll never let you go regardless.

©berryyuni 2024. all work is written by me. do not copy, translate or repost

taglist (open): @j-jinxee @j4keluver

[liveyun]

baby bear’s honey.

⊹ liveyun reads, 2023 (: !! taehyung ver.

—⊹ joon and seokjin’s library

—⊹ yoongi’s library

hello hello :3 welcome back to my library, but as usual a failed attempt to organise them all :( i remember reading SO many golden fics, but these are only some i could manage to find <\3 and the most heartbreaking news is that one of my all time favorites have been deleted by the author.. ;-:

as always, if possible, your feedbacks to the authors are always appreciated and welcome.

most of these fics are rated M, and abiding by the author's wishes, you have to be 18+ in order to read them. however, i’m not responsible for the content you consume online, hence, reader's discretion is adviced.

[ ♪ ] : series | [ ★ ] : favorites | [ a ] : angst | [ f ] : fluff [ s ] : smut | [ d ] : dark/horror

⊹ nox by @hobidreams ( 10.5k, a, s, f ) ★🧛🏻

⊹ of lace and lust by @hobidreams ( 11.2k+, a,s,f ) ★ 🪞

⊹ things we don't say by @wintaerbaer (♪20k+,a,s,f)★❤️🩹

⊹ with love by @rosaetae (5.4k, a) ★ 💔💔

⊹ tempting by @kinktae ( 20k+, a, s ,d, f ,♪) ★ 😈👼

⊹ the art of tenderness by @sahmfanficbts (9.3k+,a, s, f)★🍡

⊹ tolerate it by @archivedkookie ( 9.3k+, a, s, f, ♪,) ★ 💔

⊹ a human touch by @snackhobi ( 39k+, a, s, f ♪ ) ★ 🤖

⊹ after midnight by @watashijeon (7.9k, s, a, ♪) ★ 💔🚬

⊹ maybe i do by @chateautae ( 120k+ , a, s , f , ♪) ★ ❤️🩹

⊹ salt + shadow by @floralseokjin ( 10k +, s ) 😈

⊹ don't scream by @hobimyhope (10k+, s, d ) ☠️

⊹ all i want for christmas is you by @ladyartemesia (17k,s,a,c)

⊹ only you by @blue-jade ( 10k+, a, s ) 💔

⊹ still blue by @beahae ( 3k, f, s, a) 💔..❤️🩹

⊹ the sketch and the smaller eye by @blueberryarchive (8k+ a,s,f)

⊹ tanzanite treasures by @kth1 ( 11.8k, a, s, f) 🧜🏻

⊹ black ravens by @kth1 ( 21k+, s, f, d ,♪) 🧛🏻

⊹ the key to my drawer by @jjungkookislife ( 10k+ a,s,f) 🗝️

⊹ fall from grace by @sunnebeam (3k+, a, s, f)👑

⊹ a year's interlude by @aseaofyoongi (10.9k+, a,s,f) 👑★

⊹ ghoul by @kthyg ( 4k+, s, d ) ☠️

⊹ between the lines by @btsgotjams27 ( 1.3k, f ) 👨🏻‍🎓👩‍🎓

again, a simple reminder. if there's a series which is put on hold or isn't completed yet, don't be an ass and pester them about updates. we all are trying our best, okay?

here's my own masterlist if you wanna read my stories ( self promo? 😍👎🏽)

[pepsiconcoction]

Discounted Cookies | Han Jisung x Reader

pairing: barista!han jisung x gn!reaer

tags: coffee shop au, a little bit of angst, minor language, jisung is a lil flirt, reader doesn't wanna put up with it, fluff, no smut

requested? yes! by anon xox

an: i actually don't know how i feel about this, but it's cute regardless, anon i hope i captured what u meant, i tried my best to get reader to be Annoyed but i love jisung too much, sorry ;-;

wc: 3,890

4 times Jisung flirted with you + 1 time you flirted with him.

The first time you see him.

It’s a few minutes past midnight and you think this might be your end. You’re going to pass out, for sure. You had been studying at the library for the past 7 hours straight for an exam worth 60% of your grade. Studying Law was definitely a choice. Specifically, it was the choice you made two and a half years ago, resulting in you, at this moment, halfway through your third year and on the brink of a breakdown. The breakdown? Partially caused by your ex-boyfriend, who had just broken up with you no more than five days ago. You’re fine. People keep asking. You really wish they would stop.

In the distance, you spot a flood of warm, yellow light flooding out of a shop window. As you get closer, you recognise it’s a coffee shop, you think it may even be the one your friend had told you about, saying it was her favourite place to study as it’s open 24 hours. It seems tonight is the night you’re finally going to check it out.

It’s kind of snowy at your feet, thanks to the early month of the year, but you wish it was more picturesque and not just the grey slush that you think you can feel leaking through your boots. At least it’ll be nice to get some warmth for a few minutes.

You push open the door, a small bell jingling above your head, and the warmth hits you like a wall, suffocating in its intensity. There’s only one other person in here: an old trucker-looking guy, face held over a steaming cup of coffee. 

“I’ll be out in a second!” You hear a man shout from behind the counter, you guess he’s even further in the back than you can see. You hear a small commotion that sounds a bit like someone stamping on a cardboard box. A few seconds later, a guy appears, slightly dishevelled and running his hands through his hair as he exhales. His hair parts in the middle and brushes his eyebrows, slightly longer around the edges, as if gone uncut for a few months. A friendly face with round cheeks looks at you, a grin appearing on his face. He brushes down his apron and makes his way to the counter.

“Sorry about that, what can I get ya?” he asks.

“Just an Americano to go, please,” You smile back at him.

“Can I offer you any discounted sweet treats?” He gestures to an almost empty cake counter. “They’re discounted because it’s so late, not because they’re bad.” He quickly adds on. You spot a singular chocolate cookie looking very lonely.

“Sure, I’ll take the cookie,” you say, gesturing to it. 

“Good choice, madam.” He nods his head, punching it into the register.

“Can I take a name?”

“Do you need it?” You ask, looking around at the empty store.

“Not really, but I’d like it.” He shrugs.

“Y/n,” you sigh. This isn’t what you were looking for at the moment, but you decide to just let it go.

“Not having a good day?” he asks, seemingly concerned.

“Not having a good week,” you say flatly, hoping to communicate your disinterest.

“Well, Y/n, feel free to take a seat and I’ll bring it over to you once it’s done.” He grins again and spins around, getting to work on the coffee machine. God, who even has this much energy this late at night? Crazy people, that’s who.

You sit down at one of the tables, taking out your phone and it reads 12:17am. It feels like it’s mocking you. You scroll through your socials, attempting to keep what small semblance of a social life you think you have together, but a few minutes later, a familiar barista comes into your view. You stand up, accepting the coffee from him and he hands you the cookie which is now in a brown, paper bag.

“One Americano, and one discounted cookie.” He hands you each and you stand up, thanking him. 

“And maybe a little extra something, since you’re having a bad week and all,” he adds quietly, shuffling on his feet slightly. You peek inside the bag and notice a candy bar, something chocolatey. 

“Thank you,” You stutter, not expecting the kind gesture.

“Come back again soon!” He says, already heading back to the counter where he starts to mess with something, in a clear attempt to look busy. You turn and 

leave. Despite the cold air outside, there is an unfamiliar warmth in your body.

The second time you see him.

You wake up the next day, surprisingly on time despite the lack of alarm. It’s only 10am and you mentally prepare yourself for the day ahead of you. The exam is in 5 days. Thankfully you’re studying at home today, not needing the library for today’s subjects. The state of your flat reflects your mind, it’s a mess, dishes in the sink, clothes piling up next to the dryer. After an hour or so of quick chores, it’s in a slightly better state, good enough to study in, you think.

And study, you do. Day turns to night and you find yourself closing the last page of a textbook, letting out a deep breath. You could feel your anxiety beginning to fizzle around your body, not fully convinced you’ve properly ingested all the revision you’ve done. You need some food. The second half of a pizza is sitting untouched from earlier and you kinda feel bad for it, poor thing. Your eyes flicker towards the candy bar sitting on your desk, where it was abandoned last night and you think about the guy from the coffee shop. You throw on a slightly warmer outfit and you definitely don’t spend the walk to the coffee shop thinking about whether he might be working. To your surprise, he is.

You can see him behind the counter from outside, he’s pouring frothed milk into a cup, presumably for the customer standing at the counter. It’s slightly busier at this time, you’re not surprised considering it’s only just coming up to 8pm. You push open the door and the bell jingles like it did the night before. He looks up, looking past the customer in front and his mouth quirks up into a smile, recognising you instantly. You look around him, at the large menu boards, you don’t want to give him an ego. 

The customer in front pays for their drink and leaves, and the man’s smile finally points directly at you.

“Hello again, Y/n, what can I get you today?” He grins at you, eyes crinkling. You’re surprised he remembers your name.

“A latte, please,” you say, glancing up at the menu.

“To go, or sit in?” His eyebrow quirks.

“Oh, uh-”

“You’re sitting in,” he answers for you, already punching it into the register.

“Fine.” Your roll your eyes. 

“Take a seat.” He gestures to the barstool-type seating a little further down the counter. You’re not really sure why you actually sit down.

“Is your week any better?” He looks over his shoulder as he makes your drink.

“Not really, no.” You respond. He pauses in his actions, looking at you expectingly.

“Are you going to tell me what’s up?” 

“We don’t know each other,” you said, eyebrows furrowing.

“Okay, so my name is Jisung, Han Jisung, and today, I’m your barista. Tomorrow, maybe more!” He winks as he turns back to the machine which is spewing out your drink. 

“Well, Han Jisung, if you must know, I’m stressed the fuck out for my exam next Monday, I’ve got a practical in two days, and my boyfriend broke up with me a few days ago because I was too much for him. He was just a pathetic, weak little man, I really don’t know how I lasted that long with him.” You found yourself ranting, releasing some of the pent-up frustration you’ve been feeling for the past few days.

“Well,” Jisung starts. “that’s very fair.” He goes quiet for the remainder of the time he is making the drink, leaving a slightly awkward air around you. You focus your eyes on the counter in front of you in an attempt to ignore the stress coming back to you. All of a sudden a drink is slid across the counter.

“Is that a… squirrel?” You look from the cute latte art to the man standing across the counter from you. He looks sheepishly up at you.

“Yeah, looks like me, doesn’t it?” His grin is back, and you can feel a smile creeping onto your face.

“Sure, whatever you say.” Your eyes linger on his for a few moments, until a group of people enter the small cafe and his attention is brought away from you. You discreetly watch him as he works, greeting the customers with a big smile, and using his charisma to get an extra cake sale. You think maybe you fell for the same charisma yesterday, but you don’t really mind because the cookie was pretty good. A few minutes pass, and you sip on your drink, trying to keep the art as intact as possible. Once the last customer had been served he side steps back towards you.

“How is it? Has it fixed your week yet?” He raises his eyebrows, smirking slightly.

“I’m not sure a drink can fix my week,” you respond, letting out a small sigh.

“Nonsense! Of course, it can. Take a sip.” he gestures to you to lift the mug to your lips. You reluctantly take a sip.

“See? It’s working, no?” he chuckles. You put the cup down and try your best not to laugh.

“There’s that pretty smile!” he grins, earning a roll of your eyes. Your phone buzzes with an incoming email from your university, it’s just a random send-to-all type of email but it does remind you of your looming academic responsibilities.

“Thank you, for the squirrel,” you tell him while standing up from the stool. 

“Leaving so soon?” he asks, round eyes looking suddenly lost. 

“I’ve got work to do, I’ll see you around.”

“You better.” His grin is wide as he watches you leave, hoping you do come back soon.

The third time you see him.

“We crushed it!” You celebrate with your best friend, the two of you have just partaken in a mock legal trial as part of an assessment. Your Professor had wanted to challenge the class, setting up fake suspects and witnesses, and had even arranged for a court stenographer to be present. Your group had won the case, despite the opposing team putting up a pretty tough fight.

“Did you see the look on the judged face when you caught out the lying witness? I was trying so hard not to say something.” Your friend gushes, talking faster than you could keep up with.

“I know!” You laugh but break into a yawn as the previous nights studying catches up with you once the excitement is over.

“Coffee?” She asks.

“Absolutely.” 

You’re so engrossed in the conversation as the two of you walk that you don’t even realise you’ve made it all the way to the familiar coffee shop. You stop in your tracks a few feet from the door.

“Not here,” you groan.

“Why not? This place does the best coffee on campus.” She looks confused as she turns back to you.

“I always see the same barista, and he always hits on me, I just can’t be bothered today.” You whine a little, trying to convince her.

“Well, is he working right now?” 

You take a step further, enough to look through the window and see the counter. There is a man, but it’s not Jisung.

“I don’t see him.” You trail off, scanning the rest of the shop as much as you can see.

“Alright then, we’re getting coffee here.” Your friend grabs you by the hand and practically pulls you into the small cafe. There is a surprising queue, so you continue to just make conversation with her until you’re next at the counter. The barista who serves you has curly, black hair and biceps that honestly look like they’re about to burst his sleeves. He greets both of you with a smile and begins to punch your orders into the register.

“Changbin! Catch!” You hear a familiar voice. Your heart sinks to your ass. The barista serving you, Changbin, turns back and looks towards the door into the back. Peeking around the cake stand, you catch a glimpse of Jisung. He’s hanging onto the door with a container of what looks like soya milk. He throws it, and Changbin catches it.

“Sorry about that, our delivery was late this morning and only just arrived, so it’s a bit crazy right now,” Changbin explains, replacing an empty soya milk container.

“Don’t worry about it. It happens.” You shrug. He finishes taking your order and the two of you move to the side to wait.

“He’s kind of fit,” your friend leans into you to say, once you’re both out of earshot.

“In more ways than one.” you giggle.

Your attention is quickly averted towards the door to the backroom, particularly to Jisung who is rushing out of it and towards the counter, tying his apron at the same time. 

“Sorry Bin, it’s a nightmare back there.” He says, getting to work on coffee orders.

“No worries, we’re not too busy anymore, the rush seems to be over.” You realise that you and your friend were the last in the queue and the cafe has died down a little since you first entered. Jisung also takes a quick glance around, and that’s when he spots you.

“Y/n,” he says. “Back to see me so soon?” His lips turn up into a small smirk.

“You wish.” You roll your eyes. He just laughs and turns back to the coffee machine. You look at your friend and give her a look, the look you get in return translates to 'message received'. 

“He’s kinda cute,” she whispers to you, thankfully you were far away enough for her not to be heard. You sighed. He is kind of cute but that’s not what you’re looking for right now. You’re in a weird enough head space as it is with all the stress of law school and the breakup, not even two weeks ago! You can’t seriously be thinking about dating so soon. Right…?

You’re ripped from your thoughts by the very same man that caused them.

“A white hot chocolate?” Jisung announces to the two of you, but he’s looking at you.

“Yeah, that’s me.” You step up to the counter and begin to take it.

“You’re looking very fancy today, big plans?” he asks, smiling.

“I had a mock trial this morning.” You say and he looks at you with wide eyes, kind of like a deer in headlights.

“You know, like a court trial?” you ask.

“Law! That’s what you’re studying.” He finally realises.

“I didn’t say?” You’re now the one who’s confused.

“No, you never, I’ve been trying to figure it out, trying to guess.” he laughs. Changbin appears next to him and slides an espresso onto the counter, your friend stepping over to take it.

“Bin, they’re a lawyer! Isn’t that cool?” Jisung gushes a little, looking back at you with big eyes. 

“They won their trial this morning.” Your friend interrupts before you can say anything. You shoot her a look.

“Really?” The big, sparkling doe eyes are back as he leans against the counter.

“I, uh, yeah,” you stutter a little.

“Wow, that’s so cool.”

“Sung, I don’t pay you to stand around and flirt with our customers.” Changbin walks back towards the coffee machine and he begins prepping another order. 

“You don’t pay me at all, you’re not even a manager!” Jisung starts whining as he stands up properly. He turns back to you.

“Enjoy your drinks!” He says. You take this as your queue to leave and make a beeline out of the coffee shop, drink in hand. Your friend follows behind you, honestly a little confused.

Once you’re a safe distance from the shop, you finally feel able to breathe again. 

The fourth time you see him.

Beep… beep… beep…

Your alarm. You reach over and turn it off, groaning as you roll back over, the feeling of dread already seeping into your bones. It’s the morning of the exam. The exam you’ve been dreading. The exam that is responsible for 60% of your grade. You groan again.

You feel heavy as you walk around your flat, attempting to get ready for the day ahead of you. It doesn’t help that you broke the fundamental exam rule of getting a good night’s sleep, tossing and turning until eventually passing out. So many textbooks have been haunting your thoughts that you barely noticed you’ve also been thinking about something else. Or rather someone else.

You can’t stop, he keeps popping up in your mind. His round face, and big smile. You feel yourself smiling just thinking about it. But fuck, it feels wrong. You shouldn’t be thinking about him. You don’t have time! You have a big exam, which conveniently starts in just over an hour. 

You need a coffee.

You get to the familiar coffee shop at 11:31am. Your exam starts at noon. It takes 20 minutes to walk to the campus building it’s being held at. You probably don’t have time for this. 

You see him. He’s behind the counter. You think your head hurts.

“Hey,” he greets you with that smile again. You feel sick. “What can I getcha?”

“Just a black coffee, to go.” Your voice croaks a little from its lack of use.

“You’re not staying with me?” He smirks, punching it into the register.

“No.”

You see him falter a little at your cold tone. His eyebrows quirk down a little.

“Are you alright?” he asks as you swipe your phone to pay.

“Stop it, Jisung. Can’t you just leave me alone today, God,” you say exasperated, and step away from the counter. You try to ignore the hurt look in his eye and you really try to ignore the way he shrunk in on himself. A different member of staff you’ve never seen before hands you the drink and you leave the coffee shop without looking back at him. 

The exam goes terribly. At least it feels like it goes terribly. Your head is a mess, the guilt chewing at you the entire time. You do your best, writing everything you recall but by the end of it you have a decent headache and the pit in your gut has grown. You leave the exam and go home, collapsing in your bed and you fall asleep telling yourself you’ll feel better when you wake up.

The fifth time you see him.

You wake up in the afternoon the next day. 

You don’t feel much better. Not after binging on a pizza and your favourite chocolate. Not after watching that movie that makes you cry every time. Not even after you’ve journaled about it. You think that particular journal entry is mostly scrambled nonsense. It probably is.

You decide to go for a walk to clear your head. Maybe the cold, winter air will freshen you up, and make you feel a bit better. With a big coat and a warm scarf wrapped around you, you walk into the evening air, it’s already past 11pm so you mostly see young people out drinking despite the weather. You have no destination but of course, you end up there.

The warm, yellow-toned light pours from the window as usual. The bell above the door is jarring to your fragile little heart. 

He’s there.

He has his back to you, cleaning some sort of container in the sink. 

“Two seconds!” he sing-songs. You don’t respond. A few seconds later he’s done and spins around to you. His eyes widen a little and then drop.

“Hi.” He steps towards the register.

“Hi,” you respond.

“Would you like something to drink?” his tone is passive, despite his words being polite. 

“A hot chocolate, please, to sit in.” You try to smile at him, he focuses on the register. He nudges the card reader towards you as he steps away to get started on your drink. You move towards the bar-stool seating you sat on previously.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” you ask. He looks back to you.

“Go ahead,” he glances back at you. You take a seat and look around, and you realise for the first time that you’re the only person in here, apart from Jisung. You look back towards him just as he put the cup down in front of you.

“Thank you,” you smile again, he gives you a small one but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He turns away and starts fiddling with the coffee machine.

“Jisung, can I talk to you?” you ask.

“I thought you wanted me to leave you alone.” He says without turning around.

“Please.”

 That gets him to turn around at least, even if he is still looking at anything but you. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you yesterday. I was just a mess, and that’s not an excuse but I need you to know I didn’t mean it,” you trail off, picking up your drink and taking a sip, appreciating its sweetness. 

“And to be honest, I kind of miss the flirty Jisung. I was beginning to like him.” You take another sip of your hot chocolate, smirking to yourself when you see his head shoot up toward you.

“You do?” His eyes soften a little when you nod.

“I really am sorry.”

“It’s okay. Well, it’s not okay. But it’s okay. To be honest, I probably was coming on weirdly strong, huh?” He scratches the back of his neck while you chuckle.

There is a moment of silence as you look down at your hot chocolate. Until a thought sparks in your head.

“Why do you flirt with me?” 

“What?” His eyes widen and the poor guy looks like he’s about to shit his pants.

“Why do you flirt with me? Or do you just flirt with anyone?” You raise an eyebrow.

“No! I don’t, it’s really just you, and I don’t know why, I just kinda… liked you? I mean, you seemed cool and nice and definitely my type.” He catches himself rambling. 

“I’m your type?” You ask, smirking.

“Well, yeah.” he chuckles. You laugh too.

“Han Jisung, I think we should go on a date.” You say, definitively. 

“Really?!” He stands up from where he was leaning against the back counter and crosses towards you.

“Actually, never mind.” You roll your eyes, chuckling.

“Do not play with my heart like this, I’m sensitive!” he clutches at his chest dramatically, making you laugh louder.

“Fine, but I get to pick where we’re going.”

“Deal! Just tell me a time and I’ll be there.” His grin tells you that he will live up to that. You fall into another silence as you hold each other’s gaze, just smiling.

“Hey, Y/n, you want a discounted cookie?”

“I’d love one.”

taglist - @lethallyprotected

[lewkwoodnco]

Ok would you consider writing more for George?? (shamelessly on an Ali kick atm if you couldn’t tell, this is @bobbys-not-that-small). If I was in the LnCo universe I think I’d be a librarian with little or no talent because I’m too jumpy and scared to be an agent. I’d wanna be a librarian who sometimes bends the rules for the agents who stay really late researching by bringing them a cup of tea or a snack 😊

After Hours - George Karim x Reader

"Did-did you just...spritz me? Like a cat?"

"Yes. Now shoo."

He stared at the colourful mosaic of water droplets coating his lenses stubbornly. She wasn't about to get rid of him that easily.

"Actually, I quite liked that."

a/n: asjfhfjlfh thank youuu to @bobbys-not-that-small for helping me get out of my writing slump!! this palate cleanser was exactly what I needed <3 decided to try smth new with the presentation of my fics wooooo but am having issues with the keep reading divider so this might be a little inconvenient to scroll past :( alsoooo may have gotten a little carried away here hehehe woops

warnings/tropes: snippy George (is there rlly any other kind tho) needs his biscuits, mild angst, happy ending, slight enemies to almost-lovers, fluff!

word count: 2.7k

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST

Lockwood was standing over the kettle in the kitchen, half-asleep. Lockwood & Co.’s latest case was a bit more complex than they were used to, which meant that George needed a few extra days to properly research it. That meant that his and Lucy’s sleep schedule had started to settle down into one that was more typical - one where Lockwood was struggling to stifle his yawns in the middle of the night.

He hears some sounds coming from the hallway, and registers them half a second later. He picks up the nearest weapon he can find, a whisk, and tries to call out to the intruder, but his throat is so dry it’s more of a wheeze. The kitchen door inches open, and Lockwood poises to attack, before he pauses and squints at the figure in the doorway.

“George?”

George walks in, putting down his bag and jacket on one of the dining table chairs. “Thought you’d be asleep, Locky.”

“What’s this, a midnight stroll?”

“Sure.”

Lockwood blinked at the kitchen clock blearily. “It’s a hour to dawn.” As George shuffles about the kitchen, fixing his own cup of tea, a thought flits through his sleep-addled brain. “Hang on.” He opens his eyes even further, taking in how fully dressed George is, and starts putting two and two together. “Don’t tell me you’ve only just returned from the Archives.”

“Your hand’s in the milk jug. Again.”

Lockwood glances down and swears. George slips out of the kitchen with Lockwood's tea and biscuit, and he's just awake enough to notice.

“Hey, hey, it’s not your turn on the biscuit roster!”

But George was too content to care much about that. He had finally gotten a satisfactory day's worth of research which quelled the buzzing in his brain, if only for a couple of hours. As he settled into bed, his thoughts wandered to the librarian from earlier.

He had been so engrossed in his reading that he didn't notice anyone was standing over him until the sharp tap on his shoulder. When he did look up, he flinched terribly from the shock. In all fairness, she had been extremely apologetic.

"Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I just wanted to let you know that we're closing soon."

George slowly scanned the library, only just realising that the Archives had completely emptied. It was just the two of them and their voices echoing up to the high ceilings of the room. He half-formulated a response for a moment, but then realised this was his ideal situation, and turned back to his book.

There was another insistent tap on his shoulder and he glanced up to see a firmer set to the librarian's features.

"Perhaps I didn't make myself clear enough just now. We're closed."

"Okay," he murmured, still half-absorbed in his book. She sighed exasperatedly.

"Look, Mr. ..." she trailed off, and George stared back at her unhelpfully. She spied his name scrawled at the top of his notes, which he was too slow to shift out of sight. "...Karim."

"You're good at reading upside down."

"Thank you, it's one of my many talents. Unfortunately, I'm afraid I still have to ask you to leave."

"What if I said you were really good at reading upside down?"

"Flattery won't get you anywhere, Mr. Karim."

"Please, you don't need to address me by my surname." If the reddening of her face was any indication, he was right in guessing that he hadn't been able to snag his first name from the sheet.

"...I'm good, but not that good. My point, Mr. Karim, is that you have to leave."

He hummed noncommitally. She frowned. “Now you’re just being mean.”

George fought the overwhelming urge to roll his eyes.

“What can I say? You make it so easy.”

"I'll let you borrow an extra book."

"Hmm."

"Two extra books."

After that, they went around in circles for a while, before she stormed of. As the sun continued to set, she started switching off the lights. Even in the dark, he could feel her eyes burning into the back of his skull. He pulled out a few candles and lit them, just in time to illuminate her scowl as she irritatedly walked past him. She returned from her desk a moment later, her face stony.

"I'll ban you from the library if you don't leave right now."

"By all means." Her mouth shrivelled like she had just tasted something bitter, and he knew he had called her on her bluff.

"I'll revoke your borrowing privileges."

"Yes, because not letting me take books home is exactly how you'd get me to leave the library."

"I'll...I'll set the fantasy section visitor on you."

He didn't even look up from his book. "Give him my regards."

He paid dearly for his tongue-in-cheek a few minutes later, when he was smacked by a puff of icy mist, sudden enough to make him splutter with shock.

"Did-did you just...spritz me? Like a cat?"

"Yes. Now shoo."

He stared at the colourful mosaic of water droplets coating his lenses stubbornly. She wasn't about to get rid of him that easily.

"Actually, I quite liked that."

"You...liked that." She echoed him tonelessly.

He tried to muster up as much dignity as he could while feeling like his face was about to freeze off. "Mhm. Refreshing. Might go as far as to invite you to do it again."

She scoffed, slamming the spray bottle down in surrender.

"Fine. You win. But if you set anything on fire, so help me I will- hang on, I've got a lantern in here somewhere." With that, George watched her drift away distractedly, still mildly damp. He wondered how long he had to wait before asking for something to dry his glasses with.

For the next week, the librarian tolerated his odd hours, and George liked to think that she was coming around. She found out his first name from his library pass the next day, he found out how far he could push it with the late hours. Really, they were almost friends. He liked to think that especially after the night where he got hit in the face by something in a brown paper bag.

"Accidental pastry delivery," the librarian was saying, over the crinkle of the paper bag. "They wouldn't take it back and I've already stuffed myself the best I could."

George peered into the bag to see a deliciously flaky tart and a soft, powdered doughnut. He looked up to see her walking away, and was momentarily distracted by her odd shuffle. It took him a moment to realise she had a slight limp, as if she was carrying some dead weight. But when she returned, holding a tea tray and a viciously folded notebook, all thoughts about her limp flew out of his head. He wouldn't have thought to find such charmingly delicate fine china in a library, of all places.

"How much sugar do you take in your tea?" George blinked, still processing the pastries. She set a cup of tea in front of him, and he decided that it had just the right amount of sugar. She sat down opposite him and poured her own cup of tea, before scratching away at what he could now see was a crossword puzzle.

"Crosswords?"

She arched an eyebrow. "There's only so many books you can read in a day."

"Yes, but...crosswords?"

"You wouldn't believe how fun they are. For instance, right now I'm looking at a six-lettered word for 'nuisance.'"

That shut him up rather quickly. But over the next couple of nights, accident or otherwise, she always joined him for a cup of tea and a little treat once everyone else had cleared out.

And so a rhythm was established. On most nights, their limited conversation rarely strayed away from the tired topics that were which pastry he wanted, how late it was getting, and if he knew a five-letter word of only consonants for 'the immature form of an insect.' But he always wondered about her on the walk home, though he could never quite figure out how to ask. It was on a particularly uninteresting night that he got the answers to these half-formed questions.

He was doing his research, as usual, and she was sitting opposite him, pouring over a crossword puzzle, as usual, when he realised he needed a different volume. She barely stirred as he left the table, silently scratching away at the rough paper. Her stock still image lingered in his mind’s eye. There was something off about her today. She was a little more distracted than normal, and the abnormality unpleasantly reminded George of how little he knew about her. She was always just...there, hovering about, no matter how late it was. Didn't she have a family waiting up for her?

He returned to find her eyes fixed on his scribbled half-thoughts, as if intently deciphering his upside-down scrawls. She jerked back as he set the book down, eyes flitting nervously, almost guiltily.

"You took your time. Thought you got lost back there."

He opened his book with a deliberate slowness, as she fiddled with her pen. When he didn't respond, the forced cheeriness in her voice faded, as her eyes drifted back to his papers.

"Terribly exciting, isn't it? Being an agent."

"S'pose."

"I wanted to be one, when I was younger. Much younger."

The edge to her voice was subtle but unmistakable. He didn't like the way it grated unpleasantly against his ears.

"So how'd you end up here?"

"My talent never really blossomed. Good thing, too; I'd be all thumbs with a rapier anyway."

He frowned. "Hang on. How much can you see, exactly?"

"It's like...like a mist? Sometimes I miss them entirely."

"But you stay out so late past curfew."

"I know. I just try to walk home quickly enough. It's worked out so far."

George glanced at the flaky tart and the repulsively sugary, deep red jam glistening up at him, almost quivering in the flickering candlelight. His appetite was suddenly feeling a little funny.

"Nymph."

"Hm?"

"Five letters, no vowels. Nymph."

She glanced at her crossword, giving a small hum of approval. "So it is."

"But you already knew that."

"Did I?"

Her voice took on a mildly dispirited tone, but it was enough to signal her fading interest in the conversation. His prodding felt frustratingly futile - even now, there was so much of her shrouded in the shadows, shrouded in mystery. He didn't know what to do, or what to say, and he didn't like it. Suddenly, he wasn't sure how much he believed her, something she seemed to pick up on.

"Look, I'm too much of a live wire to be an agent. Can't we just leave it at that?"

"It’s getting late,” he said softly, and the words felt foreign on his tongue, for someone who never cared about the time. His voice sounded distant even to his own ears. But she had already returned to her crossword.

Days passed, and the awkward night was forgotten. They continued growing closer and getting more familiar with each other, if at a snail's pace. One night, she had used up the last teabag for George's tea and waved off his insisting that she have the tea, instead opting for a drink that looked suspiciously alcoholic.

As George expected, she was a little past tipsy by the time they were done, and he lingered behind worriedly as she fumbled to lock up. He walked with her a little further than he normally did, occasionally tipping her upright when she got too giggly.

"Where did you say you lived, again?" George tried to keep his tone nonchalant, hoping she wouldn't realise she never said it a first time. She vaguely pointed ahead, speaking thickly, but he couldn't quite decipher her slurred words. Rolling her eyes exasperatedly, she wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pressed her face flush against his as she repeated herself, gesturing wildly with her other arm.

"Two blocks down, then a left, walk another block, then a right, and it's the third door on your right. 51 South Street. There's honeysuckle all over the door, you can't miss it."

She tilted her head sideways, lips brushing his cheekbone. He didn't dare to breathe.

"I can take it from here. Don't think I'll be forgetting this in the morning."

She let go of him as smoothly as she hap clasped herself to him, walking ahead briskly with only minimal stumbling.

"Night, Georgie!" Yes, she must be quite well past tipsy. He watched her till she turned the corner, and almost reluctantly turned to walk home himself.

"Where's Y/N?"

George didn't mean to be impolite, but when there was a different librarian handing him his day pass the following week, he didn’t know how else to respond.

“Miss L/N’s called in sick this morning. But I’d be happy to help you with any of your Archives needs.”

The Archives felt frustratingly foreign that day. He hadn’t realised how comforting her lingering had been, to feel rather than see her wandering through the aisles just feet from him. The Archives’ closing was enough to chase him out a few hours later.

He started on the beaten path back to 35 Portland Row, before pausing. He turned, looking at the roads behind him, softly lit up by the fading rays of the setting sun. She couldn’t live that far. Just a block, or maybe two, then…was it a right?

Haltingly, he walked forward, looking this way and that amongst the tall houses which were all beginning to look worryingly identical. But she was right. 51 South Street did stick out with the heavily perfumed buttercup-yellow honeysuckle framing the door. That, and the girl smoking on the front steps of the house.

She glanced up from the gravel she was staring at as he drew closer, staring at him with cloudy eyes until she finally seemed to register him.

“…George! You’re - what? Did something happen?”

“You tell me.”

She fiddled with the ends of her hair with her free hand distractedly. “Oh. I’m alright. My leg was feeling a little bad in the morning, so I called in sick.”

He raised his eyebrows slightly. “Didn’t take you for a smoker.”

“I’m not. It just helps with the pain.”

“For now. For an hour. You know it’s only making it worse in the long run.”

She either coughed or laughed, he couldn’t tell. He watched her breath smoke like sighs, in silence.

"I used to be an agent. And I wasn’t half bad at it, either. But I tripped up, once…lost half the nerves in my left leg. After the ghost touch, my Sight-” she pressed a hand to her eyelids, trembling for something grieved. “My Sight…it was never the same again. I tried to stay on for a while, but it was so difficult, and so painful for everyone…so I left. I couldn’t do anything with my hip connected to this…dead weight.” She tapped her cigarette experimentally, ash snowing over her shoe. “I’m dead weight, Karim.”

He wanted to comfort her, but he was never the comforting type.

“You miss it.”

“I do. I love the Archives, but…I feel like I’m part of everyone’s life, except for my own. I don’t feel like my own person. I felt so…alive as an agent. Like I’d burst into flames at any minute, as if I had that much more life which the visitors didn’t have.”

George knew the type. He lived with the type.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m glad you didn’t. Burst into flames, I mean.”

She half smiled into the palm she was resting her chin on. “Aww, Georgie.”

George coughed awkwardly, starting to drift away now that she was clearly feeling better. He recognised that teasing look on her face a little too well. “Okay, you’re alright now.”

“Did you oh so miss me today?”

“That’s enough out of you.”

“Not getting fond of me, are you Georgie?”

The back of his neck flamed red. She was definitely alright now.

TAGLIST: @dangelnleif @elenianag080 @snoopyluver20 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @avdiobliss @mitskiswift99 @ahead-fullofdreams @mischivana @houseoftwistedspirits

[zmediaoutlet]

Sam wants to read but can't concentrate. He tries to eat but his stomach's a shriveled ball and it's pointless. He thinks about the decanter in the library but—that's not fair, and wouldn't work, and would just cause more problems besides.

He goes for a run. A short one, four miles. He concentrates on the rhythmic thud of his sneakers on the dirt roads out here among the farms and watches the bob of the pocket flashlight carving a pool out of the night. Thinks about that slice of light, curving strange midair and allowing one universe to glance sidelong into another, and in that other universe of dust and piled bone and fallen angels there might be—there's a chance at least that the inevitable wasn't inevitable after all—and if there's a chance, shouldn't they—?

Not tired exactly after but his mood's different, at least. After midnight; he dims the kitchen and library and main corridor lights. Presses open the door to Jack's room, quiet as he can, and the kid's curled on his side under the blankets. Hopefully sleeping. Hopefully didn't hear any of the argument, earlier.

He spends some time under the shower. Soaks the back of his neck and shoulders, tries to get tension to bleed out. Even the firehose pressure in here can't quite manage that but at least it's—better. He dries off and wraps a towel around his hips and goes through the dark corridors to his room, and—Dean's there, standing at the sink, brushing his teeth. Sam stands with his hand on the doorknob and is, for a second, entirely surprised.

"You gonna come in, or not," Dean says, garbled through foam. Sam rolls his eyes and shuts the door behind himself. A lamp on by the bed. At some point since they argued Dean's lost his jacket and boots; his gun's laid on Sam's desk, and one of their silver knives, and a scrap of paper. Sam picks it up while Dean's rinsing his mouth. James Turner, it says, and a phone number. "Missouri's son," Dean says, leaning on his elbows on the sink. He spits. "Patience's dad. Disowned her, I guess, but I figure—"

He shakes his head, shrugs. Runs more water, splashing his face, and then hangs there dripping. His back's a low curve, his head hanging heavy. Sam watches him drip. The shape of his shoulders. Sam wants to touch the small of his back and instead he turns and goes to his chest of drawers, finds pajama pants, a washed-to-softness shirt. "Jody said Patience is a good kid," Sam says. "She'll be all right."

"Save us from good kids," Dean mutters.

Sam shoves his hair back from his face, says, "Dean—" but when he turns Dean's already shaking his head, eyes closed, and Dean says, "I didn't—"

Didn't what? Dean licks his lips and then bites them very tightly between his teeth. There are a few things Sam could think to say but he waits, hands on his hips. A deep breath, so slow and deliberate it might have cost an organ or two, and Dean drags his hand over his face, folds his arms over his chest. Opens his eyes finally and looks somewhere not at Sam but through his torso, maybe.

"I don't got the juice for a knock-down drag-out," he says. "It's been a long…" He shakes his head, swallows. The hollows of him dark-pooled and his lips tight over something miserable and his eyes, when he finally does glance up and meet Sam's, this raw long shadow of grief that stretches back past today and back to that carved slice of impossible light, and maybe back past that to—any number of things, really. Take your pick. "I wanna go to sleep."

It's not an apology, nor a concession. Just as well—Sam's not ready for either. But he knows that exhaustion that starts somewhere in the marrow and spreads through the whole body. Anger the only thing that pushes it back and when the anger's done it just seeps through, insidious, faster. He bites the inside of his cheek and lifts a shoulder. "So sleep," he says.

He brushes his teeth, too. Drinks a glass of water. In the mirror he watches Dean strip mechanically out of his overshirt and unbuckle his belt and peel out of his jeans. He sits on the edge of the bed and rubs his hands over his face again, long repetitive strokes like maybe he'd open his eyes after and find the world different. If only.

Sam tugs back the blanket on his side and says, hey, and Dean sniffs and lifts up enough that the covers can get pulled down. Then Sam gets into the bed, and says, "If you're gonna stay, stay," and it comes out harsher than he meant it to but it gets Dean to lie down at least, on his side with his back to the lamp. His head on the other pillow and his shoulders pulled high.

Sam sighs. Twists to turn off the lamp. In the dark he pulls the blanket up over both of them and lies on his side, too, a few inches between their bodies but not enough space that he can't feel Dean's heat. They haven't slept in the same bed since Jack—just, since Jack. He reaches out and touches the middle of Dean's back. Warm, and solid. Dean's ribs expanding on his breath. Sam curls an arm under his head, under his pillow. Dean's shirt smells like burnt things. Annoying how comforting that is. His hand on Dean's back curls into a fist, knuckles pressing into Dean's spine, and Dean makes this soft noise, and Sam's going to sleep better than he's slept in weeks. That's annoying, too. He closes his eyes and sinks into it, listening as his brother does the same.

[arinzu]

Final!!!

Part 1, part 2

🪐Today 4ever to last for eternity 🪐

~Once again this might not be accurate!

Summary :

You and Rin are the last students in whole the school after the apocalypse... The whole of Japan is infected with this deadly disease. You guys must not get infected before the cure is discovered.

Rin and reader are not alone in this adventure, angst, New characters in the story will appear!

Multiple chapters!

"Itoshi the food in the canteen is running out..." You whisper holding on to the last box of nutrients the room had left, it's been a few months of this torture you and Rin were the only survivers until now.

"Fuck... I don't think the other canteen has enough food for us" he reply back to you holding a piece of furniture blocking the entrance door to the cafeteria.

"It's better for us to go than stay here any longer" You look outside the window box still at hand. "We don't wanna leave any clue for those things to use" you nodded to Rin as he says that

You remember just a few months before hiding from those things, you had a couple of people alive with you and Rin. Your best friend, her boyfriend that was one of the few popular athletes like Rin, and the quiet kid.

Akemi the quiet kid was the first to die in your group... she died from lack of food since she was secretly starving herself to save food for the others. Next was all of the other athletes... They were fighting the crowd of zombie-like creatures for you guys to escape the classroom to find more food.

Your bestie was heartbroken to the point she became depressed, you weren't surprised since her lover just died. But still tried your best to help you bff to cheer her up.

Next was sadly your best friend... The zombie manages to weaken the walls in the room/ library you guys were sleeping in, to then kick or well... Break the wall down. They ambush you and the 2 other members still at midnight, as you were about to get attacked. Your bestie managed to get that zombie's attention by throwing books at that creature and lured them outside.

To then run in the crowd of zombies never to be seen alive EVER again, as you were about to cry from your lost Rin forcefully grab your arm and dash to the exit while the zombies were still distracted.

Those creatures are not fully zombies... They still have a mind of their own yet still looks like zombies. They can use anything to find human flesh.

They adapt well...

You promise to stay alive for the people who sacrifice themselves for your well-being.

"Hey Itoshi let's camp at the seniors library... They're much more books than the last library we went to" you suggested as you start packing the box of food needed in your school backpack.

He nodded as he start to pack the remaining food supplies in his own bag... And that's where you and him set out to go to the next destination.

It surprisingly took such a few short minutes to get there it was quite peaceful other than rin killing those creatures...

As you both stand outside the library to find more about these creatures, you notice something on the gigantic door, upon closer inspection it was a sticky note used to remind people of their individual tasks made by the council club.

As you read it mentally you get surprised since the handwriting was your best friend and IS your bestie...

"So, Are we still camping here?" Rin asked and you almost fell back in surprise, 'geez... I forgot he was still here' you think to yourself, and mentally note to find something in the public library.

You shake your head in disagreement to rin's question as you head to the main gate of the school.

Rin followed you as he started killing those creatures once again that tried to attack.

...

You both arrived at the main gate of the school, streets crawling with those mysterious creatures... Almost one spotted you but Rin killed it almost instantly as it spotted you.

As you took rin's appearance, he was quite charming even with all of those bloody fluids covering his school uniform. Now you know why girls fuss over him every time they see him walking through the hallways.

"Huh whatcha staring at...?" Rin asked as he caught you staring at him

"Oh well... Just admiring how you look" you replied feeling embarrassed from your action.

Rin stayed silent before adding another question.

"How did that note get there? I mean... Your so called best friend surely died before ever reaching the seniors library"

'Hm... That's easy to answer' you note to yourself as you start answering.

"Well before we all actually teamed up... We were both in a different group than you, it was composed of all of our classmates and a council member" you paused before adding

"me and her were tasked exploring different areas of the school to find something that can help by the council member"

"That doesn't explain how?"

"itoshi I know your lacking in your subjects... But how can you not piece it together?"

"No need to be rude..."

"My bad itoshi... She explored the west where the seniors library is to be specific while I explored the north, And that's where she discovered nothing or that's what the note told us"

"Oh."

"After our time was up exploring, we headed back to the camp our classmates made. And I saw a bloody entrance... And multiple dead bodies and my bestie running towards me"

"And...?"

"I grab her by the arm-"

"Why?"

"Stop it you're annoying me"

"that the purpose (reader)"

"Ugh... I grab her and start running away since she was deathly afraid of those kinds of things"

"lukewarm"

"Woah itoshi that is extremely rude"

"And that's where I ran into you and your bloody mess"

"That's why your so traumatized, when I first saw you both?"

You nodded in approval as you stared outside the gate filled with these zombies? You don't know anymore.

Rin sensing it's time to stop pushing the story any further.

to be continued...

AHHH TYSM FOR READING💗💗💗

Forgot to add! Reader check the seniors library since 'bestie' might not have checked it yet! After all it was the west and not only the library!!!

[aryomengrande]

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY // doll face by @/meraki_written on wattpad

midnight rain ver. | daylight ver.

hi guys ! my friend meraki is currently struggling w finances so she started taking writing comms ! i’m a big fan of her fics; her stories are so exceptional that they make great muses for art pieces. i’m sure her talent in writing is something worth paying for ✧ദ്ദി( ˶^ᗜ^˶ ) if you fancy oneshots and headcanons—spicy and sweet—please consider checking her out or if you have read her books and loved them as much as i did, she'd be delighted to accept donations. u can request for commissions and donate right here. and if u wanna sift through her library js click right here ! ♡

[have-you-seen-my-sanity]

I love love love your writing! You are so talented.

Keeping up with the dark kidnapping theme, can you please write a bit where the lead is a really dedicated student, maybe for med school, and is heartbroken beyond belief because they think Steven/Marc won’t allow them to continue studying now that they’re basically captive (of course they allow her so it’s can be comforting and maybe turn smutty 😈) thank you! ❤️❤️❤️

ANONY PLEASE- I...I AM MELTING RN!❤️ Please let me give you hugs and kisses🥹

Lovestruck

Yandere Marc Spector & Steven Grant x student!fem!reader

Warnings/Triggers: Description of kidnapping, dark themes, yandere themes, some horror themes, comfort, mature themes, mentions of DID.

Sorry for no smut. I couldn't find any right moment. :(

It was already late, you and a few others stayed after class to study at the library in your school. It was already getting dark, you increased your speed because you had to use the toilet, but luckily on your way home, you always walked past the Museum. You saw the security guard at the entrance and made your way over.

"Excuse me? Is the Museum still open? I'm in need of a toilet." you asked in a friendly tone with a smile.

The guard returned the friendly gesture. "Yes, Ma'am. But you have to ask the receptionist, since the toilets were getting cleaned and he can tell you if the janitor's done."

"Thank you, sir. Have a good night." You smiled, stepping inside the Museum, spotting the guy behind the glass.

As you approached, he looked like he was watching something on his phone, it looked like Otter videos. He didn't seem to notice you, so you cleared your throat to get his attention. The guy snapped back to reality, turning to look at you with a surprised smile.

"Oh! May I help you?"

You smiled. "Yes are the toilets free?"

The guy turned to look at the security cameras showing the toilets. "Yep, they're free. They're freshly cleaned." he flashed a grin.

You smiled, gave him a thumbs up and rushed to the toilets. After being done with your business, you pulled out your phone to get a look on the time. Almost midnight. You cursed under your breath, speeding up a bit. When you turned a corner, not paying attention, someone bumped into you with a force, causing you to fall on the ground.

"Oh shit! Oh bollocks, I'm so sorry."

Looking up, you saw a man standing there, his hair was a bit messy and he looked concerned. "It's okay, I'm not dead."

"Here let me help you up." He extended his hand out for you.

You accepted it, letting him pull you up with relative ease. "Thanks."

"You alright?" He asked.

"Yes, no big deal." you gave a small smile.

"I'm Steven. Sorry again." He smiled curtly, dusting off your shoulders and back, his hand lingering there for a second longer.

"It's alright, Steven." You smiled, waving it off.

"Good, for a second there I thought you broke a bone." Steven said nervously.

You smiled reassuringly, "I'm fine. But I gotta go now, it's getting late."

Steven nodded undestandingly. "Alright, take care."

You gave him a last smile before walking off, not noticing Steven looking after you like he had gotten lovestruck.

After leaving the Museum to continue your walk home, you pulled your earphones out, shoved them into your ears and listened to a medical podcast while walking.

Meanwhile Steven just finished his shift, his thoughts drifting back to you. His tired mind driving him nuts sometimes, he wished he could see you again. Marc noticed, they couldn't read eachothers mind but seeing how Steven was acting after he bumped into you, he figured it out quickly.

*Wanna see her again, Steven?*

Steven stopped infront of a store, looking at the glass to catch Marc's reflection. "Yeah. I dunno why I'm like that."

*Luckily I have an idea.*

"What is it?"

*A bad one.*

-

You, almost back home, fished your keys out as you neared your house. With your earphones still in your ears, you didn't hear the steps behind you. Just as you pulled them out and put them back in their case, a hand with a cloth came down on your mouth, followed by an arm wrapping around your body to hold you in place. You tried kicking the person into their shin, but they swiftly slung their foot around yours to stop it. A sweet smell entered your nostrils, letting you know you were about to get knocked out with Chloroform as you used to work with it in medical school. You tried to hold your breath as long as possible, while flipping your keys between two fingers and tried to stab the hand covering your mouth, you tried to take as less breaths as possible. As the keys hit the hand, a grunt could be heard and the person let go of your waist to grab your hand, giving a harsh squeeze to make you drop the keys. You felt yourself getting weak, you were about to pass out but in a last attempt, you tried catching the keys, the keyring got wrapped around your middle finger and you weakly tried hitting the person's head, but your hits were so weak, it didn't even had an effect.

You slowly slumped down, too tired to do anything else. Your body surrendered and you began blacking out.

-

Slowly, you came back to your senses, your eyes fluttering open. You felt as if gotten hit by a truck. You were laying on a bed, you took a second to look around, it looked like some sort of an apartment. In your numb state, you rolled over to the edge of the bed. Just as you moved your body weight and were about to sling your legs out, something tugged on your ankle, causing you to loose balance and land on the wooden floor. Supporting yourself on your hands and pulling back up on the bed, you looked back, seeing an ankle restraint around your foot.

"Shit..." you groaned, sitting up to try and remove it. Either you couldn't figure out on how to unlock restraints or you were simply too lightheaded, you just couldn't get that damn thing off.

"Stupid little-"

Suddenly you heard a sound coming from the door, you snapped your head towards it, seeing it open. You froze, eyes wide as you saw the person entering.

It was Steven. He caught you trying to get the restraint off. "Don't know how to get it off, yeah?"

"You?! The museum guy?!"

"I'm afraid so."

"Did I vandalize the toilet or why did you kidnap me?"

"No- no.. it's uh, it's a bit more complicated.."

"You're going to kill me...?"

Steven frowned. "What? Why are you saying that, no one is going to murder you."

"Well, I thought I would die when you were knocking me out!"

"You were putting up a bit of a fight.."

"Yeah because people don't run around kidnapping people like they're some fucking serial killer!"

"You're in shock, try calming down, I'll get you some cold water." Steven made his way to the kitchen, returning to you with iced water.

"Here, drink this, it will help you calm down."

Hesistantly, you reached out taking the glass, getting some sips.

"You should try getting some sleep." Steven said gently, taking your glass and putting it on the nightstand.

"Can you atleast remove the restraint please?"

Steven nodded. "Fine, but don't try anything." he warned softly before releasing your ankle from the restraint.

"Thanks." You smiled before laying back down on the bed. Steven pulled the covers over your shoulders, tucking you in gently.

As soon as he goes to sleep you'll make your move.

"Get some sleep, we will talk more in the morning. If y' need somethin', just call out for me." Steven smiled, patting your head.

With that, Steven retreated into his room, leaving you to catch some sleep.

While you laid there, your hands went to your pockets for your phone but it has been snatched from you. Out of pure curiosity, you opened the nightstand drawer in hopes of finding your phone. Nothing.

To make sure Steven would go to sleep, you waited couple of minutes. Slowly, you sat up on the bed, looking around one last time before getting up, you spotted your shoes beside the bed, slipped them on and carefully tiptoed to the door. Your instincts were screaming at you to just make a run for it. But instead, you chose the safe way, making your way slowly to the door. You noticed Steven didn't lock the door, only used the small chain. You shoved it open and carefully pulled the door handle down, praying it won't be locked.

Luckily, the door was unlocked. Pushing the door open you realized how easy it was for you to get out, almost too easy. Taking a look out, you saw some other apartments. You must be in an apartment building. You tiptoed out, pushing your luck and knocking on the last door at the floor. Knocking softly three times, the door didn't open.

You sighed, and made your way to the elevator but still trying to keep your guard up.

Inside the elevator you pressed the button to the first floor, waiting for it to descent.

Finally arrived, the doors opened. You stepped out and quickly rushed out of the building. Looking around you couldn't made out where you are, and the darkness made it worse. Without your phone you had trouble to find your way home, but you started walking down the sideway, hoping to find some help.

After walking for what felt like an eternity, you finally spotted someone, a man walking opposite from your side. Without thinking you ran over to him.

"Hey! I need help!"

The man turned to you, confused. "Miss? You okay?"

"I've been kidnapped! He took my phone, can you call the police?" You were a bit panicing.

"Absolutely, stay close to me." The man assured, leading you into a nearby alleyway for cover. As the man pulled his phone out, you looked around frantically.

In the corner of your eyes, you noticed a shadow, followed by two white glowing dots in the distance. That got your attention, you saw someone in a white bandage-like suit, two white glowing dots were covering the eyes and the person had a bandage mask. You could see him raising his arm as if ready to throw something.

"Hey! Watch out!" You warned the man as something very fast whipped past you, slicing your savior's shoulder, making him drop his phone.

Looking back, you flinched as you saw the bandage man came running towards you. You jumped out of his way, but he wasn't going for you, he was aiming for the poor man who just wanted to save you.

The guy in the costume grabbed the man by his throat with one hand, lifting him up and slowly pulling him close.

You took some steps back but you didn't want someone innocent get hurt just because you got kidnapped. So you tried acting up.

"Hey! Let him go! You're after me huh? Then come and get me!"

The guy in the costume looked at you with his white glowing eyes before turning back to your savior, speaking to him in a deep growl.

"She. Belongs. To us."

With that he swiftly threw the poor man on some trash bags next to him and turning to face you.

You wasted no time, picking up a pipe on the ground and ran as fast as you could. The steps behind you were getting louder and louder with each step. Stopping quickly and turning around, you got into an defence stance with the pipe, ready to beat the shit out of him if you had too.

But the guy simply reached for his chest, pulling another dart out. You squeezed your eyes shut as he threw the dart at you, but it didn't hit you, it just sliced the pipe you had in two.

He made his way to you, causing you to drop the remains in your hand.

"Whoa, wait." You stepped back, raising your hands in surrender but as he reached you he simply ducked down, slung an arm around your legs and picked you up as if you weighed nothing, throwing you over his shoulder.

"Let me go!" You hit the back of his head with your palm but that guy didn't even react to it, he ignored your protests.

"Stop struggling if you want the easy way. Try me and it's gonna be the worse way." He threatened.

You just gave up, letting him carry you back to the apartment you tried to escape. Back inside, he bent and dropped you off on the bed. "Now you better behave or all four limbs will get restrained."

"Who are you? The bodyguard of Steven?"

"Something like that."

He went to the room you saw Steven going in earlier and soon after, Steven came out.

"Why did you do that?" He asked, half disappointed, half concerned.

"I have a life if you haven't noticed."

Steven sighed. "We will take care of you now, no need for anything else."

"I am attending medical school."

He gave a nod. "You don't need to go there anymore. We just sign you off."

"Are you fucking serious? No, I love it there, I love studying medicine."

"I can understand that, I have something similar, but for now, you won't go there."

You let out a sigh, which almost sounded like a whine.

Steven's expression softened. "Look, you go to sleep now, you had a rough day, and we talk more in the morning."

"Fine."

"And please don't try to escape again or else he will hunt you down again and you won't like it." Steven gave a soft warning glance before he went back to his room.

You sighed, getting under the covers. Your mind was racing with thoughts but eventually, you fell into a deep sleep.

A good few hours later you felt more relaxed, wondering if you just had the most fucked up fever dream, and when your eyes opened, confirming this was not a dream, you rubbed your face, letting out an defeated groan.

Looking for a clock, you spotted one hanging on the wall, it was the time where you should already be at the medical school. You grumbled, sitting up, your eyes landing on a fish tank where a single goldfish was swimming around. Padding over to him, making sure to stay silent as if to not trigger the white mummy man to appear out of nowhere again.

"Hi fishy, you hungry?" Reaching for the fish food, you poured some into it, watching as he munched them down.

A sound came from within Steven's room, causing you to tense up. The door opened, he stepped out, yawning softly and rubbing his eyes when he spotted you.

"You awake already?" You noticed his voice was deeper.

"Is that your sleepy voice?" You asked curious.

"What?" He asked, sounding like genuinely confused on why you asked that but he didn't want to stick on it, resuming his way towards the bathroom.

Hearing the water running, you sat back on the bed, waiting until he returned.

"Hey uh, can I have my phone back? Please?"

He came back, scratching the back of his hand. "Oh you want it back, hm? Sorry but we won't risk you calling the cops."

"What if I promise to not call them?"

"Why don't you tell me what you wanna do?"

"Listening to podcasts. You know, for my medical study?"

His eyebrows arched up, not buying it. "If you're going to listen to podcasts then I'm the Liberty statue."

"Come on! I'll listen with earphones!" You pouted.

"Even better." He joked, making his way to the kitchen.

To be honest, you were pissed. Really pissed. He came back a while later with a bowl of cereals, setting it down on the nightstand.

"You should eat. You say you attend medical school, so I guess they'd taught you something about the value of breakfast."

"I'll eat. But can I atleast read a book?"

"Of course, they're in that corner over there." He pointed towards the corner with a desk and shelf filled with books.

"Thanks." You nodded in satisfaction, reaching for the bowl to start eating.

"Listen, I'll be gone later for a while. You stay put, and I will consider giving you back your phone tonight, understood?"

"Deal." You agreed.

"Very good." He smiled.

You spent the rest of the morning eating breakfast and doing some quick naps in between. Shortly before afternoon came, Steven got ready to head out. His soft voice was back.

"Heyia, need something before I go?" He asked, putting his bag over his shoulder.

You sat up on the bed. "I think I'm fine, but can I leave for a quick stop at a store?" you tried pushing your luck.

"Definitely not." He scolded lightly.

"Okay. Can you get me a book? I was learning how different medicines affect the body and I wasn't finished."

Steven thought for a second, giving a warm smile. "Sure, I'll try finding one."

"Thanks." You gave a weak smile in return before he left, leaving you alone in his apartment.

A small part of you thought about trying to escape again, but you didn't wanted to get literally chased down by that mummy man. You spent the rest of the day looking through the book corner. Looks like some passion for Egypt.

Before you knew it, the day was almost over and the door opened.

"I got the book you wanted." Somehow, Steven managed to get the deep voice back.

You walked over to him. "Are you able to change your voice?" you couldn't help but ask.

He gave a puzzled expression. "Excuse me?"

"You had the same deep tone when you woke up today, then before you left your tone was light and now it's deep again."

"Oh... that's a long story."

He handed you the book, you thought that maybe this Steven had a condition.

Either way, you snatched it out of his hand, flopped down on the couch and began reading.

At one point, he sat down on the couch next to you with a mug of coffee in his hand.

"Will you tell me the story?"

"You really want to hear it?"

"Yes. Really." You nodded curiously.

He took a deep breath. "Alright. I'm not Steven."

"Ah, you must be a twin then?"

He laughed softly. "Nope. I am Marc. And I have DID."

"Oh.. the condition?"

Marc nodded.

"And Steven is your other personality?"

"Yeah."

"Is he the only one?" You asked gently.

"As far as I know, yes."

"I'm sorry." You said with sincere concern.

"Nah, it's okay. Steven and I get along smoothly."

As curious as you were, your brain itched to know how Marc got the condition.

"May I ask how you got..." You paused, watching his reaction.

"Of course." He had a gentle smile.

Marc told you about his past, his childhood, how he developed DID and shared how he was the one in those white bandages and it was actually called Moon Knight.

By the end of the day, you started liking them, telling them about yourself in return. Later, as you went to bed, Steven came back to check on you.

"Hello. Marc said you're getting comfortable around us, yeah?"

"Yes." You smiled warmly.

Steven was beaming with joy. "And how's your studying?"

"Thanks for the book, I will take my time with it."

"That's good to hear, and as a reward, you'll have your phone back." He reached into his pocket and got your phone out, handing it to you.

"Thank you!" You beamed.

Steven was about to go back into his room when you stopped him. "Hey Steven? Wanna listen to podcasts with me? I can even tell you some things." you scooted back in the bed, sitting against the headboard and patted the spot next to you.

"Sounds lovely!" Steven agreed, sitting down next to you.

That night, you explained some things said in the podcasts, Steven was the most patient listener while Marc occasionally fronted to make a bit fun here and there. Halfway through, you ended up drifting off on Steven's shoulder, knowing Marc and Steven will take care of you while you could continue with studying.

[babydollmarauders]

SNOW ON THE BEACH — LUKE HUGHES

luke hughes x fem!reader

part of the Midnights Fic List.

summary: in which shy, introverted y/n meets extroverted frat boy Luke and he takes a liking to her, even though everyone thinks they’re an odd match.

specific lyrics: “it’s like snow on the beach, weird but fuckin’ beautiful.”

notes: i really wanted frat boy Luke in order to really have them contrast each other, but i also didn’t wanna take away the hockey element or split up the UMich boys, so… Hockey House is a frat now. also, i don’t think i like this one, i feel like i could’ve done so much better but like halfway through writing this, my brain short-circuited and i couldn’t think of anything.

the library is packed. i should’ve expected it, with it being so close to finals week and all, but it still disappointed me nonetheless.

this was my favorite place to escape and read when my obnoxious dorm-mate had her friends over. it was quiet and usually pretty empty. so i could usually sit and read for a few hours until i was sure none of Alex’s friends were still there. none of them knew how to use an inside voice, and with our dorm just being one big room, they constantly thought that meant i would want to join in on their conversations. which were mainly gossip about the hockey team. so, coming in and finding every space in the library full, ruined my plans. i don’t want to go back to my dorm and be subjected to them debating which UMich hockey player has the cutest smile, so i guess that leaves me with one option; find a seat.

i let loose a sigh and scan the room for who seems to be the quietest. i hate small talk. i find a table with only one person sat at it, a guy with one airpod in and a textbook laid out in front of him, and decide that’s the one. i walk over, fully planning on just motioning to ask if i can sit, but when i come to a stop in front of the table and he doesn’t even look up, i know i’ll have to speak up. i take a deep breath before i let out the quietest ‘excuse me’ known to man. the boy still doesn’t look up from the textbook, and i don’t blame him, he probably didn’t even hear me.

“excuse me.” i say slightly louder. this time the boy finally looks up, but i’m struck on what to say. suddenly, all the mentally rehearsed words have left my mind. this may be the cutest boy i have ever seen.

“can i help you?” his voice is soft. not judgmental or rude like what i would’ve expected from him after i came over and interrupted his studying just to end up staring at him. i shake myself out of my thoughts and give a light nod.

“do you mind if i sit here?” i motion towards a chair diagonal from his. “everywhere else is full.”

the boy nods.

“oh, yeah, go ahead.” i give him a small and grateful smile before depositing myself in the chair. pulling my book and a few highlighters out from my tote bag before hanging it up on the back of my chair. i open my book to where i left off, setting the bookmark on the table. but before i can start reading, the boy speaks up again.

“sorry to interrupt but, you’re reading that for a class?” he asks. for some reason, i take a look at the front cover of my romance novel before talking.

“oh. no. i’m reading this for fun.” i tell him. my voice is quite, my tone soft.

“oh okay. i guess i just assumed you were here to study since everyone else is.” he lets out a breathy chuckle as he shrugs.

“no.” i shake my head before explaining- “i’m here to get away from my dorm-mate and her friends. they’re too loud for me to focus and they keep trying to get me to weigh in on their debates.”

“what are they debating?” he asks.

“well, when i left it was which Wolverines hockey player has the cutest smile.” i tell him, rolling my eyes.

“and who did you say?” he seems curious, and almost amused.

“no one.” i shrug. “i don’t know what any of them look like.”

he lets out a quiet laugh.

“well you know what one of them looks like now.” he says. my brows form a v and i’m about to ask him to clarify but then it hits me. oh. he’s a hockey player.

“oh.” is my awkward response.

“i’m Luke Hughes.” he smiles at me. well, i have my answer for the next debate now.

“i’m y/n.” i tell him. “nice to meet you.”

“you too.” he finally looks back down at his textbook, and i’m relieved to be free of any more small talk.

the next hour or so passes by silently, and i manage to finish the last 75 pages of my book without any interruptions. i close my book, and put my stuff back in my tote bag, at the same time that an alarm goes off on Luke’s phone. he turns it off and starts packing his stuff up as well. we stand simultaneously, and he sends me a quick amused expression. my steps to the exit are slow, and Luke falls in line with me, slowing his steps to match mine.

“my frat is having a party on Friday, you should come. collect some more data for the next debate.” he smirks, and i rack my brain for a nice way to say that i don’t do parties.

“i’m not really a party person.” i say.

“then what kind of person are you?” he asks. his eyes fall down my body before he looks back up to my face.

“um, the reading type, i guess? i don’t really like doing the whole people thing.” i confess. he nods in understanding.

“well, if you change your mind, come. and if you need to escape your dorm again, i’ll be here tomorrow, same time.” he winks before splitting off, walking the opposite direction as me.

my entire walk to my dorm, i rethink every word we shared, wondering if i sounded stupid. i mean, i would assume not because he didn’t seem put off by me, but who knows, maybe he’s just a good actor. he was really cute though, gosh i hope i didn’t unknowingly embarrass myself.

opening the door to my dorm, i’m disappointed to see that Alex and her friends are still here. they don’t usually hang out this long on a wednesday evening. and i have to hold back an eye roll when i realize that it doesn’t sound they’ve changed their topic of conversation at all since i’ve left. logically, i’m sure it has and they just circled back onto this topic, but i honestly wouldn’t be surprised if it was all they were talking about the past couple hours.

“y/n! you didn’t answer before you left, so please, settle this for us!” one of them, Jess, says as she spots me. “which UMich hockey player has the best smile? i say Ethan Edwards, Alex says Rutger McGroarty, and Becca says Mark Estapa!”

my mind wanders back to the boy i was conversing with not too long ago and before i can think twice, i blurt out- “Luke Hughes.”

“you think so?” Becca asks “i feel like he rarely ever smiles. it’s so hard to get one out of him.”

“really?” i ask. they must be exaggerating, he smiled at me earlier. although, i think he was just being friendly.

“yeah! i have a class with him this semester and i swear he frowned at me when i tried to introduce myself. i mean, he’s still hot, but still.” Becca replies, shrugging.

“oh.” i say. what does that mean? if he wasn’t friendly to her when they met, then why would he smile and be friendly with me?

“oooh y/n is blushing! i think she likes him!” Alex coos.

“i don’t like him.” i turn away, letting my hair fall in front of me to hide my apparently pink cheeks. i set my tote bag on my desk chair and slip my shoes off before taking a seat on my bed.

“i think she does!” Jess joins in on the teasing, and now i’m regretting having left the solitude of the library. “a bit of an odd match, you two.”

i’m not sure whether i should be offended by her statement or not, but for some reason i am. i don’t plan on dating him, but hearing her say we wouldn’t match together makes me feel insulted.

“what is that supposed to mean?” i retort.

“she didn’t mean anything by it.” Alex defends her friend. “she’s just saying, Luke is an extrovert, he likes to party and let loose, he has a lot of friends. and you’re… the opposite. i don’t think i’ve seen you go out once in the entire school year that we’ve shared a room. you keep to yourself. like, we’ve been trying to include you so that you’re not lonely, but you always say you’re going to the library. you and Luke just don’t seem like you’d fit together.”

“i didn’t ask you to include me. i like being alone. people are draining.” i say. i don’t like their pity on me. it’s not like i don’t have friends. i do. we’re just all introverted and our hangouts between classes is enough social interaction for us. we don’t care for going out partying on weekends or anything. if we do want to hang out on the weekend, we’ll usually do a movie night at Casey and Ellie’s apartment. but the way Alex explains it makes my life sound pitiful, and it makes me defensive, so before i can stop myself, i speak again. “and for your information, i’m going to a party on friday.”

the trio gasps, as though this information is scandalous.

“oh my god, are you going the party at Hockey House?” Becca asks. ‘hockey house’, the nickname for the frat house in which most of the UMich hockey players live. the frat is comprised solely of hockey players, so i guess the nickname makes sense. “for Luke?”

“yes, i’m going to the party. but no, not for Luke.” i tell them. why did i say i was going to that party? i hate parties. i even already told Luke so.

**

friday evening has come, and i can’t even back out of going to the party because Alex, Becca, and Jess have decided we should carpool together. so now i’m stuck in this commitment.

when Becca and Jess arrive to pick Alex and i up, i become aware that i’m the only one not wearing a dress or skirt of some kind. instead i’m dressed casual, in jeans and a tank top, paired with an oversized cardigan to keep me protected from the evening breeze. but it’s too late to change now.

arriving to the party is a hassle on its own, with the girls fussing over whether they look good enough to bag a hockey player, and having a hard time finding a parking spot. and when we finally walk into the party, i immediately want to leave. music is blasting from multiple speakers, everyone is holding a stereotypical red solo cup, and the house is packed. i’m quickly forgotten about by the other girls, them walking off to get drinks and stop to have conversations with a few of the hockey guys. i still don’t actually know any of the players names, besides Luke.

i scan the room, but i’m not entirely sure what i’m looking for. or who. all my friends are probably laying in bed right now. before i can even figure out who i’m looking for, i hear my name being called.

“y/n!” i turn my head towards the voice and find a guy from my ‘intro to business’ class coming towards me. i think his name is Dylan, but it seems like everyone just calls him Duke. “never seen you at a party before!”

“yeah, it’s not usually my scene.” i tell him with an awkward smile.

“i figured. you give me more of the ‘reading in my room’ vibes.” he laughs.

“am i that obvious?” i joke. he laughs again and nods.

“you look pretty out of place. let me introduce you to some of my friends.” he takes ahold of my wrist and pulls me towards a group of guys in the kitchen. i’m immediately uncomfortable, they all seem intimidating, and i’m not great around boys. we get closer to the group and Duke begins to introduce me. “guys, this is-”

“y/n! you came!” i look over to see Luke, and i can’t help the smile that breaks out on my face when i see his wide grin. he slings an arm around my shoulders, and Duke’s jaw drops.

“THIS is the y/n you’ve been talking about? the one from the library?” Duke asks. i can feel my face heating up. he’s been talking about me? i hope he’s not saying anything bad about me.

“yup. this is my future girlfriend.” Luke exclaims, and i choke on my own spit.

what?! we barely know anything about each other! all i know is his name is Luke, he has the prettiest smile i’ve ever seen, and he plays hockey. pretty sure all he knows about me is my name and that i have an annoying roommate.

“hm. an odd match.” Duke ponders. there’s that phrase again! but now seeing Luke in his natural habitat, partying and joking with friends, and even just him being so confident, i can’t help but wonder if Duke and the girls are right. Luke and i do seem to contrast each other.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” Luke asks defensively.

“hey, i’m not saying that’s a bad thing!” Duke rebuts. “you guys are just kinda… opposites of each other.”

“opposites attract.” Luke shrugs. i’m kind of confused. does my opinion matter? Luke seems pretty confident that i like him back.

“uh, Luke.” i speak up. he looks down at me where i’m still tucked into his side. “we don’t really know anything about each other.”

“when you know, you know.” he shrugs.

**5 YEARS LATER**

i stare up at my now husband from my seat beside him with watery eyes and a soft smile.

“and i told her, ‘when you know, you know.’” he looks back down at me from his standing position. “and i knew. from the first time we met, i knew this would be the girl i spend the rest of my life with.”

everyone in the reception hall claps as Luke ends his speech. he gives me a soft kiss on the cheek before whispering in my ear.

“you got this, baby.” his hand clasps my shaky one and gives it a quick tight squeeze. i take one big deep breath and stand up, i hate public speaking, but i wrote my speech and i will read it.

“i didn’t know. well, at least not as quick as Luke.” a few people chuckle at that. “but what i do know, is that i went to my first party for him. which spoke volumes for me. and i thought he had the most amazing smile to ever exist.”

i look down at Luke and see the grin spread across his face.

“look, there it is!” i point to him as i look back at the reception hall full of our friends and family and everyone laughs. “i still think it’s the best smile, but i might be biased now. when we started dating, we had people calling us an odd match, i even had a friend compare us to ‘snow on the beach.’ she said we were ‘weird but beautiful.’”

“i used to think it was an insult, but now i look back and realize, our friends were right, we are an odd match.” i look back at Luke and now it’s my turn to smile. he takes ahold of my hand, squeezing it as a few tears roll down my cheeks. i finish my speech while maintaining eye contact with him. “but i like our differences, we balance each other out, and i can’t imagine what my life would be like if i hadn’t liked your confidence so much that night. i’m so grateful that i get to spend the rest of my life calling myself your wife.”

Luke stands, winding his arms around my waist and pulling me in for a sweet, slow kiss. i can hear everyone clapping, and someone lets out a loud “WOOO!”

i can distinctly tell that was Jack, and it makes me interrupt the kiss with a giggle. Luke just takes that chance to pull back and pepper my face in pecks. blood rushes to my face at the thought of our family and friends watching him do this, but he doesn’t care. his confidence is a constant, no room for embarrassment.

yeah, maybe my friend was right; Luke and i are like snow on the beach. at first glance, we’re an unlikely duo, different in a lot of ways, but we make a great couple and our love is beautiful.

[hanahaki-disease]

You’ll Never Bear the Weight of Two

Hell or High Water - a Percy Jackson x DC crossover

Summary:

“You promise you wont hurt us?” Percy stuck his pinkie out, green eyes staring at the whites of his cowl.

It was comical how big Batman’s hands were compared to Percy’s. The gloved finger swallowed Percy’s when he wrapped around his, and Jason had to hold back his shock when Batman gave his brother a smile. “I promise.”

************************************************************************

“Stay here and don’t come out till I say so, okay?”

Crouched behind a dumpster, a little boy no older than seven stares up at his big brother with wide green eyes and dirty black hair. Patches of dirt stain his slightly hallowed cheeks and covered the feeble pieces of clothing they had managed to find for him, his brother wasn’t fairing too well either. His own clothes were baggy over his small frame, baby fat cheeks hallowed too, and his curly hair in a matted, dirty mess. But the blue of his eyes were as bright as the street lamps they shied from, hiding for their own protection from those who wished to separate them.

“But I wanna help! I’m strong too!” The little boy protested.

“I know you are,” the older boy shushed him, worried the outburst alerted any one where they were. “But if something goes wrong, I don’t want you to be taken too. I’ll only be down the alley, okay? So just stay here, Percy?”

“Okay.” The older boy smiled and ruffled Percy’s hair, before making his way down the alley.

It was nearing midnight, the inky blue of the sky was hidden behind the smog that belonged to Gotham, but sometimes the boy would imagine what the stars would look like. He’s read about them plenty, mostly the ones in the library, and he’s read them to his little brother multiple times, but it wasn’t enough. Sometimes, he would drag Percy to the roof of a building and they’d pretend that the lights of downtown Gotham were the stars themselves. Connecting the lights of apartments and offices into their own constellations. And a few times they’d catch a glimpse of Batman and Robin, running over rooftops far away, swinging into a battle they couldn’t see.

Speaking of Batman, a grin grew on the boys’ face as he got closer to the car. This was the Batmobile. The most sought after, coolest car, ever. Taking anything off it and selling it would feed the boy and his brother for a good long while. They could even have enough money for a coat come winter, or boots, or a hot meal, maybe they could splurge for their birthdays and spend the night in a motel where they could use the shower! Oh, the kid could see it now. All he had to do, and all he could do, was to take those pretty and shiny tires and wheel them back to where Percy was waiting with the tarp to cover them.

Hell, he didn’t even need the tire, the hubcaps would work too if he sold it to the right people. But if the boy wanted to make sure they had enough for a while, they’d need the whole tire.

He pried off the hubcaps, wincing when it clanked on the ground, before getting to work. And, boy, was it hard work. He was only seventy pounds on a good day and he was sure the tire was at least half his weight, but he was determined to take it off.

“Jay? Almost done?” Percy’s hushed voiced carried from down the alley, one hand cupped around his mouth as he peaked his head around the dumpsters’ corner.

“I just need one more, I told you to hide!” Jay said back, stepping on the tire-iron to loosen the lug-nut. The other three tires lay beside the car, the shiny chrome twinkling in the street lamp light. The kid was impressed with himself but he was also cautious, Batman could come back any time to stop him and then what would happen? Would he take to jail, prison? Maybe he’ll turn him into CPS, have him be relocated to another foster family. That can’t happen, he need to be there for Percy, who’ll take care of him if Batman takes him away?

Jason has to hurry. The longer he takes to remove the tires is another second closer to getting caught.

“What are you doing?”

Shit.

He turned to face the voice. Pointed ears and the vague shape of the Batman sent a shadow over Jason, making the man look bigger than he was. Though, he was already massive compared to the small ten year old anyway. He was intimidating, that’s for sure, and it seemed like that factor was being wasted on a kid. Shouldn’t Batman be kind to kids? Isn’t that his whole thing, mean to the bad guys but nice to the children he saves? Especially since he had Robin with him.

Either way, Jason couldn’t stay here any longer than he needed to. Forget the tires, this wasn’t worth it anymore. Slowly he got up from where he was crouched, the tire iron falling to the ground with a clang. He faced the Batman with his hands open at his side to prove he didn’t have anything else on him.

“Stay back!” Jason barked when Batman stepped forward, his hands were itching to grab the tire iron. It wouldn’t be much help against him, but it’d be something.

“Where are your parents?” Batman asked again, ignoring Jason’s protest. If he continued pestering him like that, then in it was well within the kid’s rights to attack in self defense, right? After all, it was Gotham. It wouldn’t be a surprise if a little brawl happened in a random alley way between a fully grown man and a child, wouldn’t be the first time either. But it would confuse the passer-bys that it was between a little kid and Batman of all people.

“I said stay back, you boob!” Jason dropped down and grabbed the iron, swinging it into Batman’s stomach before running down the alley. He pulled Percy on to his back before disappearing out the other side of the alleyway. He was NOT going to get taken. No sir, no thank you.

But as luck would have it, which isn’t a lot for the Jackson’s, a week later Batman found them again. They were holed up in a wooden crate. The puttering of the rain against the plastic tarp and asphalt would have usually put the two boys to sleep, but sleeping in their threadbare clothes on a cold, rainy night was sure to welcome sickness. They couldn’t afford to be sick. They didn’t have the money for medicine or warm clothes or a dry place to sleep, being sick meant they could die.

The older of the two watched the cars pass in the street up a head, all them old and rusted. Squeaking breaks and coughing motors, each drive threatening to be their last. Some of the people who walked the sidewalk were the same. Dirty, old clothes trying to catch their breaths, hands fisted and held up to their mouth as they wheezed. A few had cigarettes in their hands as they did that, others a bottle of something, but the ache in their chest didn’t deter them from another hit.

“You must be cold.” Jason startled at the familiar voice. Batman was just outside their create, leaning over to catch Jason’s attention. His cape draped over his shoulders and covered his body, his white eyes and jaw were the only thing visible.

“We don’t need anything from you,” Jason snapped and tucked Percy behind him, waking the little boy up a little.

“I could get you both a hot meal and a safer place to rest, if you’d like?” Batman offered, not once flinching at the scared and angry glare from Jason.

“Why? So you can drop us off at CPS later? No thank you, we’re fine,” He answered, holding tight to Percy behind him.

“I won’t if you don’t want to,” Batman answered.

Jason hushed his little brother when he gasped in awe behind him. Of course he’d be impressed, it was Batman. But Jason was old enough to recognize a creep when he saw one. He’s had to…work with a few to scrape by a few times. He couldn’t trust him fully, because even though it was Batman, and Batman didn’t hurt kids, there was still a guy under the mask. There was still a normal (or as normal as one could be dressing like a bat every night) person who went to bed and ate normal food and bled red like he does. And that is what scares Jason.

A normal guy could do so much, they were capable of anything. And while Jason doesn’t really care about what happens to him, he doesn’t want anything happening to Percy. He was only seven. He should be able to somewhat resemble a normal childhood.

“I wont hurt you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Percy slipped out from behind him and Jason was too slow to stop his kid brother. The rain streaked the dirt on his cheeks and made the too big, too thin shirt he wore sag and cling to his little body. The waves in his hair seemed to spring back to life when the water hit him, the glow in his tanned skin a little brighter despite it being night. He walked up to the Batman, little hands fidgeting in nervousness, and he startled back when Batman dropped down to his height.

“You promise you wont hurt us?” Percy stuck his pinkie out, green eyes staring at the whites of his cowl.

It was comical how big Batman’s hands were compared to Percy’s. The gloved finger swallowed Percy’s when he wrapped around his, and Jason had to hold back his shock when Batman gave his brother a smile. “I promise.”

************************************************************************

I had this idea brewing in my head since, like February and I had read almost all of the PJO/DC fics on ao3 andd I was like “y’know what? Lemme make my own”

So here we are.

Also, I’ve been meaning to put this on here anyway, and I just kept forgetting….

Asks are open if you have any questions!!

Hanahaki <3

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