#caffeine save my soul

[daechwitatamic]

Not So Loud || LC

banner by @itaeewon <3

Not So Loud lee chan x afab reader || fluff smut baby angst || f2l, only one bed trope NSFW - minors DNI

Summary: You've been in love with Lee Chan for almost two years, despite his rejection seven months ago. When you're impossibly coupled up on a friendcation, you're determined not to make it everyone else's problem. Of course, you weren't expecting to have to room with him, and you certainly weren't expecting only one bed...

wc: 16.6k

warnings: language, recreational drinking, sooo much pining, baby misunderstandings, kissing, breast play, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), piv sex (no protection mentioned either way), reader on top, mentions of shower sex

request by @eoieopda:

yes my fearless leader you may have even two crumbs of lee dino getting laid at the beach, i hope you enjoy every single second of it <3

“This,” you sigh blissfully, “is the happiest I may ever be.”

The sun is shining. Upbeat pop music runs like an undercurrent below the sound of the highway from the stereo of your best friend’s junky, decade-old sedan. Your iced coffee - light and sweet, but not too much of either - tastes like heaven. And the best part, the part that makes this day the best even if you didn’t have iced coffee or sunshine or Ruby or happy music, is that you’re less than an hour away from the beachfront house you and your friends have rented for the next five days.

All six of you had collectively been saving up for a full year and a half to make this happen, and there were times during the wait when it seemed like it would never come together between scheduling and money and rental availability. But now you’re here, racing down the highway to keep up with the flow of traffic, the ocean beckoning you closer.

“Now, now,” Ruby, the aforementioned best friend, scolds lightly. “What about your wedding day?”

You blow a raspberry. “What wedding day?” you shoot back sourly, but then you take another sip of caffeinated, iced perfection and your mood buoys immediately. It’s gonna take a lot to keep you down, today. Still, you rationalize, “I can’t even get to a third date.”

It was true. Your last third date had been almost two years ago. Since then, everything fizzled after one or two. Embarrassing. Something only Ruby - and, by proxy, her boyfriend Mingyu - would know about you.

“Because you compare them all to Chan,” Ruby says sagely.

The beams of sunlight are glaring. The pop music grates on your nerves, too boppy and much too happy. You set your coffee in the cup holder, your hand suddenly smarting from the bite of cold.

Coincidental to the third date thing, you’ve been in love with Lee Chan for almost two years. Another embarrassing Ruby-and-thus-Mingyu-only tidbit.

“Stooo-ooppp,” you whine. “If you’re going to spend the whole time making it weird about him, I’m going to find a way back home! I will walk there, just try me!”

“Now, now,” she says again, mildly. Your dramatics are nothing new to her. “I’ll behave. But I keep telling you - it would be significantly less weird if you’d just tell him you have a thing for him.”

You narrow your eyes at her. A thing.

An every problem I’ve ever had melts away and my soul floats three feet above my body every time your smile crosses your face kind of thing. A hearing your laugh makes me laugh even if I didn’t hear the joke kind of thing. A finding your gaze across a loud room makes me feel like no one else is there but us kind of thing.

A he doesn’t feel the same way, and he never will kind of thing. He made that super clear, about seven months ago.

And it gets worse.

You’ve had a week to accept your fate on this trip - a week since she’d called to tell you that the original rental had fallen through. To tell you that the replacement place is almost better (closer to the beach! a huge deck! a private pool!) except for the number of rooms. That since the other four people attending are made up of two couples, you and Chan would have to share a room.

(“The rooms are huge,” she’d assured you. “And the third room’s got bunk-beds! I bet will Chan will let you have top bunk if you want it - he’s a nice guy.”

You didn’t say, even though it is very true, that bunk-beds are really only a selling point if you are ten years old. But there were more important arguments to make. “I know he’s a nice guy,” you’d bit out. “He’s the nicest fucking guy I’ve ever met in my life, actually!” Hence the thing.

She’d paused and then pointed out, “You’ve met Seokmin, though.”

And, yeah, maybe on paper Seokmin is nicer but looking at his smile doesn’t feel like being filled with sunshine, so the point is moot.)

Anyway. You’ve had time to accept the fact that you have to share a room with the guy you’ve been in love with for over a year and a half. You’ve had time to accept that he might hear you snore, will see that you’re messy, that you’ll have to get changed in the bathroom for the whole trip, that you’ll have to get really good at pretending not to moon over him every time he speaks.

“I think,” you tell Ruby mildly, “that telling him that I want to lick his body from top to bottom and then get married might actually make things more weird.”

“I would just like to say,” Ruby’s boyfriend Mingyu pipes up from the backseat, his voice weary and long-suffering, “that this is an incredibly uncomfortable conversation for me.”

In your defense, you’d thought he was asleep.

Ruby descends on him like a swarm of locusts. “Don’t you think she should tell him she’s in love with him?”

“I actually do,” Mingyu says, covering his eyes with his hands as if he can’t bear to see what a disaster you are. “But I would heavily advise against mentioning the licking. Or the marriage.”

“It’s hyperbole,” you defend, flapping a hand in his direction. But, yeah, noted.

Excitement bubbles in your stomach, despite the rooming situation, when Ruby flicks on her turn signal and moves to exit the highway. Already, the smell of the air through the open windows has turned salty, and the thick tree-line along the highway has given way to cloudless blue sky and the occasional palm tree. It had been almost hazy when you’d set off at the crack of dawn (Mingyu had taken the back seat so he could stretch out and sleep a little longer) but now the sunrise has burned away all of that haze and given way to a perfect morning.

It takes only minutes for Ruby to navigate through the small, coastal town and to a row of vacation homes. You lose yourself in a daydream of waking up to take coffee on a sunlit balcony, listening to waves crash in time below you. In your daydream, across the balcony someone stretches their arms above their head, a sliver of belly peeking out for only a second, then turns to give you a sleepy smile, thinly-wired glasses perched on his nose.

Someone.

You shake yourself free of the fantasy; part of you feels like Ruby can read your mind, like she’s seconds away from calling you out for placing Chan in your seaside fantasy life.

Ruby, however, is too focused on finding the house to read your mind, and she slows the car and turns into a driveway, chirping, “We’re here!”

You all start grabbing luggage to carry in; the sun feels amazing on your skin, the sea breeze cool almost to the point of chilly and so salty it makes your nose twitch. You three aren’t even done emptying your car when you’re startled by a beep-beep-beepbeep-beep from the road behind you.

“That’s Soonyoung,” Mingyu says without even turning to look.

He’s right - it is. The second car, which carries Soonyoung, his girlfriend Lara, and Chan, pulls into the driveway next to you.

Chan greets you with a wide, happy grin (that, yes, makes you feel full of sunshine, whatever) and a quick, one-armed hug as he comes around the front of the parked car. Your moronic heart lifts, stupidly hopeful - until Soonyoung does the same thing. Your heart deflates again with the reminder that they’re just like this - nice, affectionate with their friends. It doesn’t mean anything. Chan’s attention to you is just as platonic as Soonyoung’s - which is to say, entirely.

You all manage to gather the luggage from both cars, and Mingyu follows the rental app’s directions to work the keypad at the front door. You all ooh and ahh as you step inside - the place is roomy, well-lit from sliding glass doors and windows that face the ocean, and decorated with (what else?) a kitschy, nautical theme.

You kick off your flip-flops onto a mat with an anchor on it (per the theme), and follow the others further into the house.

You head straight back through the house - the living room gives way into a dining room that ends with the sliding-glass doors. In tandem with Ruby, you press your face to the glass of the door and peer outside. You’re delighted to see that the ocean is right there, beckoning you to come play. Gulls swoop and call, loud enough that you can hear their cries from inside. Further down the beach you can see colorful umbrellas and tents that other beachgoers have set up. Below the deck, you can see just a strip of the private pool.

You pull yourself away from the back door and head into the adjoining kitchen, where Lara is standing at an open cupboard, examining its contents.

“We’re going to need to do a grocery run,” she muses, looking over at you. “I think all Soonyoung packed was ramen and soju.”

“What else could we possibly need?” he jokes from down the hall, his voice echoing.

“Coffee,” you say immediately.

“Beer,” Mingyu says seriously.

“Meat? Vegetables? Stuff for breakfast? Something to drink that isn’t alcohol?” Lara suggests.

“Who invited the Capricorn?” Soonyoung (the person who invited the Capricorn) grouses.

“Without me,” she tells him seriously, though the corner of her mouth twitches, “you’d be malnourished at best, and at worst? Dead.”

“Probably true,” you say, giving her a conspiratorial nod, and then you hear Ruby call your name from upstairs. Her voice sounds strained, and a little alarm bell goes off inside your head.

“Yes?” you answer loudly, hoping your voice will carry up to her.

“Can you come up here for a minute?” she calls down to you. Yes, there is definitely an edge to her voice that you don’t like. “Now?”

“Oh jeez,” you mutter, starting to make your way towards the stairs at the front of the house. You take the stairs quickly, calling Ruby’s name as you navigate the unfamiliar house.

She and Chan are both standing in the hallway, open doors all around them. Their faces mirror each other - disbelief, anxiety.

“What?” you ask, a little breathless both from the stairs and from anticipation. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s, uh,” Ruby stammers. It’s very unlike her to lose her confidence, and the unease in your gut churns again.

“What?” you say again, and when she doesn’t answer, you turn to Chan, who looks stricken. “What is it?”

“No bunk beds,” he manages, finishing Ruby’s sentence and gesturing to the room behind him.

You’re pressing forward without making the decision to move, without answering either of them, crowding Chan’s space so you’re chest to chest, peering over his shoulder. His hands hover near your elbows, like you might overbalance and he’s ready to steady you.

The room behind him is huge - as Ruby promised - complete with an ensuite bathroom and the balcony straight out of your daydream in the car. It also, as Chan pointed out, does not have bunk-beds. Instead, one king-sized bed is centered against the far wall, flanked by wicker nightstands with lamps on each and an old-school radio alarm clock on one.

You say nothing - you just back out of Chan’s personal space and swivel, heading for the other doors. Surely that was just the wrong room - one meant for one of the couples. Surely they just didn’t look hard enough, didn’t check the other doors, didn’t find the room with two beds that you’d been promised.

You find a full bathroom, a linen closet, one door that remains locked, and - to your dismay - two identical bedrooms, neither of which hosts more than one single bed.

Realization trickles through you slowly, building up higher and higher as you check the doors a second, and then a third, time. Ruby and Chan stay frozen in place in the dimly lit hallway, watching your frantic, pointless searching.

“Oh, my God,” you say hollowly. Then, turning, you narrow your eyes. “Ruby,” you growl. “You promised. Where is my top bunk?!”

“I don’t know!” she squeaks. “The listing said four beds!”

“Call them,” you demand flatly.

Beside Ruby, Chan’s eyebrows scrunch as he frowns. He says your name quietly, holding up a hand as if to calm you. “We don’t need to move houses,” he says gently. “I’ll take a couch. It’s not a big deal.”

You feel yourself shaking your head immediately. “I will feel like shit if you spend your vacation sleeping on the couch because of me,” you tell him.

He and Ruby exchange a long look (something that you don’t like very much, but no one is asking you) and then she tentatively says, “Could we work it out later? Maybe one of the couches pulls out into a bed or something? Or do you really want me to try and get us a different rental? This is already our second one, I’m not sure there are even other options still available…” She trails off, eyes wide.

You sigh, eyeing the ceiling above you as if it has answers. “Fine,” you say, because you can’t stand the thought of being the one who’s causing problems, ever the people-pleaser. “We’ll figure it out later.”

You head back down the hall, tromping down the stairs in silence to get your luggage.

Chan tries to take one of your bags for you, but you shrug him off and he lets you. You follow him back up the stairs, to the large room you’d looked at a few minutes ago. You both stand in the middle of it, looking around. You’re unsure if you should even unpack in here if there’s a chance you’ll end up moving to the couches.

“It’ll be okay,” Chan says, and it startles you out of your thoughts so badly that you flinch.

“Mhm,” you manage, because you don’t want to lie to him by agreeing.

“Hey,” he says, a little insistently, and you look up at him. He’s looking at you openly, his expression an impossible mix of concern and optimism. It disarms you immediately, in a way nothing else ever has.

There’s something always so earnest about Chan, one of your favorite things about him, and you can’t help but believe him when he continues to speak. “It will. We can, like, take turns with the bed or something. It’s not that big of a deal. Don’t let this ruin your trip. Okay?”

You nod silently, thinking about this. He’s right - there’ll be a solution. “Okay,” you say, managing to give him a little smile. “You’re right.”

The grin he gives you is mischievous. “I usually am,” he quips - and you love that about him, too: the way he’s playfully cocky, something ironic in the way he displays it, like you’re all in on the joke and he’s happily his own punchline. He disappears into the hallway, where you hear him heading down the stairs.

You wait for the tornado of butterflies in your belly to calm back down and then you look around the room. You finally decide to just leave your bags in a pile near the dresser, and head back down to find the others.

Everyone is standing around the kitchen table, where it seems like a grocery list is being split into Things That Can versus Things That Cannot be bought at the local liquor store.

“We can take one car and handle the drinks,” Mingyu is saying as you walk up and lean your chin on Ruby’s shoulder from behind. She absently reaches up to give your head an affectionate pat as you both listen. “Then the grocery team can take the second car, and whoever is handling the rental office can just walk.”

“Rental office?” you ask. “What for?”

“Just to grab our passes for the beach,” Lara answers you. “They’re like little tags. It’s part of what we paid for.”

“The rental’s under your name,” Soonyoung reminds her, “so we should probably handle that.”

“Yah, you just want the easy task,” Mingyu complains.

Soonyoung grins, guilty as charged not at all sorry about it. He grabs for Lara’s hand and heads for the front door. “If we aren’t here when you get back, we’ll leave your passes on the table!” he calls, and then the door slams shut.

“Asshole,” Mingyu grumbles affectionately.

The four of you look at each other in the resulting quiet. Then, Ruby asks, “Anything you want to add to our list?”

You lean further around her to read her phone screen, scanning what drinks had already been requested.

“Nope,” you tell her. “I’m good with that. Does this mean I’m on the grocery team?”

Chan looks up from his phone when you ask this, waiting to hear the answer.

Ruby and Mingyu meet gazes, seeming to have a silent conversation. Then, she gives you a sheepish look, almost a grimace. “Yeah - sorry, but I kind of wanted to go with Gyu on the drinks run, if that’s okay?”

You’ve been best friends with Ruby for a long time. You know her in and out, and you know this: she’s not like this, not sweet and apologetic. If it was just you two, she’d just say what she wanted. The act is for a reason.

You blink at her, trying to figure it out. “Of course it’s okay,” you say slowly. “If you and Mingyu are handling the drink run, then I’ll handle groceries with Chan.”

Ah. That was Ruby’s game - she paired you with Chan on purpose.

Meddler. Pain in the ass. Angel. Light of your life. She contains multitudes.

His eyes drop back to his phone. “You don’t have to,” he says, not looking at you. “If you want to go with them or catch up with Lara then I can handle it by myself.”

You frown. “It’s not really a one person job,” you observe. “And I don’t mind - really.”

“So it’s decided!” Ruby says brightly, moving to rest her hand on her boyfriend’s forearm. “We should beat you back, but we’ll wait for you guys so we can help unload the car.”

“Thanks,” you say, meaning it. For everything.

Ruby and Mingyu head out, and you meander closer to Chan. You’re not alone together very often - you’re pretty much always in a group setting.

You’d met through Ruby and Mingyu, years ago. You and Ruby were a very packaged deal, and Mingyu had a crew of friends that filtered in and out of your social events like they kept a scheduled rotation. When Soonyoung had settled into a serious relationship with Lara, the two of them became pretty permanent fixtures with Ruby and Mingyu, and Chan usually went where Soonyoung did. So then you were six.

How perfectly even. How serendipitous. How nearly fated.

If only he saw it that way.

But he doesn’t, he’s made that clear. It was Lara’s fault, actually. That night is burned into your brain, an unpleasant memory custom-made to slither into your brain when you’re trying to sleep before a big day.

The six of you had been bar-hopping on a Saturday night about seven months ago. It had been cool - late autumn teasing winter, and you’d been shivering as the six of you rowdily made your way up the block to your next stop. Laughing at something Soonyoung had said, Chan had reached around your shoulders sloppily, pulling you tight against him.

“Cold?” he’d asked you, as you tried to keep walking - a challenge because of both the alcohol in your system and the alarm bells going off in your head over his hand on your arm.

“Definitely chilly,” you’d managed to reply, looking up at him sideways. His profile was sharper than you’d realized before, and it sent a wave down your core, sinking like a weight through your stomach and into your lower belly and he grinned down at you.

You never wanted him to let go. Never, for the rest of your lives.

“You two are cute,” Lara had said drunkenly, the words a little slurred, as she leaned heavily on Soonyoung. You’d flushed, a little embarrassed, but Chan’s reaction had mortified you. His eyes had widened and he’d gone so far as to retract his arm from around you as quick as lightning, moving sideways to put inches between you again.

It left you frozen, a block of ice.

“No - we’re - we’re only friends,” he had said emphatically, and Lara had apologized, her hand over her mouth. Then, Ruby had tripped on the sidewalk and ripped the knees of her jeans, and the whole incident was forgotten.

Not by you, though. Never by you. This was the moment that floated up like the ghost of Christmas past whenever Ruby urged you to confess to Chan, which was more frequent than you’d like. The rush of cold in the absence of his arm, the way he’d stuttered in his hurry to refute the misunderstanding.

Message received, Lee Chan. Loud and fucking clear.

Didn’t change a thing about how you feel, though.

Presently, you try to push this out of your head - the fact that there’s no social buffer between you, no Ruby or Soonyoung to hide behind - before it can trip you up. “What’s on the list?” you ask. He hands you his phone, lets you scroll through everything he’d typed up.

“Okay,” you say, handing it back. “I’m ready when you are.”

“Yeah,” he says, a little absently, then starts patting at his pockets, eyes scanning the tabletop. “Yeah, I’m ready. Aish, Lee Chan, where did you put the keys?”

“They’re by the door,” you offer, remembering the small table you’d all dropped them on as you came in.

He shoots you a grateful smile. “Thanks. Let’s go?”

You nod, grabbing your sunglasses from the table and following him to the driveway out front.

It’s less than ten minutes to the nearest grocery, not even enough time for three whole songs to play through the car’s stereo, half-drowned by the roar of wind and sea through the open windows. Chan grins sideways at you as he parks, running a hand through his messy hair before unbuckling and stepping out of the car. You shake yourself from your daze and hurry to follow.

“What’s the game plan?” you ask, as you step out of the summer sun and into the fluorescents and air conditioning. Your skin prickles instantly upon the change. “Divide and conquer?”

He pulls out his phone and brings the list up. “I’d rather just stick together,” he says, looking at you sideways, his voice a bit thin - like he’s nervous you’ll reject the plan. “If that’s okay?”

“Of course,” you say, shrugging easily.. “I’m just following you. I’m the assistant. You’re in charge.”

Something flashes across his face - a shooting star of an expression, gone before you’re sure you saw it - and then he’s pushing the cart into the produce section, calling over his shoulder for you to go grab some peaches.

You wind your way together through the store. Each time he stops the cart, you each dart after something else from the nearby shelves then reconvene to look at the list again, shoulders pressed together as you squint at the small font.

It thrills you each time that he doesn’t pull away, each time that he doesn’t hurry to put space between you again as he had back in November.

Don’t make it weird, you beg yourself as you load a few cases of soda into the cart. Keep it in check.

A few rows over, the cart a third of the way full, you pause at a row of sauces. You step back, scanning the labels, then drop into a crouch to read those on the bottom shelf. Chan drops beside you, his knee gently bumping yours as he reaches for one of the jars, bringing it closer to scan the label.

“This one’s my favorite,” he says, and there’s something low in his voice that makes you look over at him. Your fingers overlap his for a second as you take the jar from him, turning it over so you can see which one it is. The moment feels staticky, charged with something.

You chicken out, shuffle back on your heels so your knees no longer touch. “It is a good one,” you agree, putting it back in his hand and pressing your palms to your knees as you rise again. “Get a few - I think Ruby likes that one too.”

He nods, looking away again, dutifully reaching to grab a second jar. You move on to the next aisle in silence. You almost feel like his energy seems… disappointed. But that wouldn’t make sense at all.

Turning the corner to the first row of freezers, you feel your body react instantly to the cold and you immediately fold in around yourself, goosebumps rising up your arms.

“Oh, it’s cold,” you complain. “Let’s hurry. Please.”

Chan doesn’t respond, but you can feel his eyes sweep over you, heavy, before he starts pushing the cart past you at, yes, a quicker speed. You shiver once, violently, before you hurry after him.

When you’re done, stepping outside into the sunlight feels like being released - like leaving school on the last day before summer break, like leaving work before a vacation, like stepping outside for the first time after rain has kept you inside for days on end. You let it warm you, happy, as you help Chan load the bags into the car.

You drive the few minutes back to the house in silence. As Chan makes the last turn, you wonder out loud, “Do you think Ruby and Mingyu finished before us?”

“Definitely,” Chan says, and he’s right - as the house comes into view, you can see that the second car is already parked.

True to their word, Ruby and Mingyu greet you at the door to help carry everything in and put it away.

“Lara grabbed us a spot down on the beach,” Ruby informs you, as you both stand at the back of the car, scanning for the lighter bags. “As soon as we’re ready we can head down.”

You let out a happy sigh. “I think an afternoon at the beach will cure me.”

“Nothing will cure you,” she deadpans, then literally stops mid-stride to correct herself. “Actually, something could. And it’s here, and available, and sharing your room.”

“I hate you a lot!” you tell her brightly, pushing past her with an armful of groceries and heading into the relative dark of the house, praying Chan hadn’t overheard her bullshit.

You hurry through the rest - getting the groceries away, getting changed for the beach, throwing the things you need to bring into a tote. Downstairs, the others wait for you by the back door. Chan is wearing Mingyu’s dumb-ass sunglasses and is clearly in the middle of an old-man bit, his voice reedy and sarcastic. Ruby cackles as Mingyu shoves Chan’s shoulder playfully, reaching to get his eyewear back. You can’t help the wave of affection you feel for them, your goofy friends.

You all step out into the sand, eyes adjusting to the sun. You follow Mingyu’s shadow on the ground as he makes his way towards the spot Soonyoung and Lara saved for you. You drop your tote in the sand and help Ruby spread out a blanket, using your shoes and bags to hold down the corners. Mingyu and Chan settle a small cooler off to one side, filled to the brim with ice and drinks.

You pull your cover-up over your head and toss it in the direction of your tote bag and stretch out, closing your eyes happily and letting your body relax under the warmth of the sun, the sound of breaking waves rhythmic and soothing. You’re startled by the sound of music and open your eyes again to find Ruby setting up a bluetooth speaker near the cooler. She looks at you sheepishly and hurries to lower the volume.

“Sorry,” she giggles. “Didn’t mean it to start so loud.”

To your left, Chan is pulling his white t-shirt over his head. Your eyes widen and you look away as fast as you can, catching Ruby react exactly the same, her eyes comically large.

You both turn your backs to the boys, and she mouths at you, what the fuck?

What the fuck is right. You’re used to being around Mingyu, who has an admittedly perfect body, and even Soonyoung is shockingly cut under those baggy t-shirts and cropped hoodies he sports. Chan’s always been the little one, the most normal, the most obtainable in his regular-ness.

Something’s changed since the last time you were all swimming together. He’d always had a nice body, but this…

You close your eyes against the bright summer sun, as if you can block out the curve of his pecs, the shadowed lines hinting at abs. None of those had been there last summer.

That motherfucker. First, he rejects you, then he gets hotter? You hope he gets eaten by a shark today.

You push yourself to stand.

“Where are you going?” Ruby hisses.

“I need a beer,” you tell her flatly. “Actually, maybe ten beers.”

“I’m not holding your hair today,” she warns you flatly, and you flip her off and make your way to the cooler. It’s going to be a long day.

You manage to get a few hours of peace and sanity by laying out with Ruby and Lara, just enjoying the music and occasional chitchat. Further down the beach, the guys run around with a volleyball but no net, making their own asinine rules.

“I still say you should tell him,” Ruby grumbles, after catching you watching Chan from behind your sunglasses for the ninth time, and you shoot her a warning look. But the damage is done - Lara latches on, her eyes sharp.

“Him… Chan?” she guesses. You feel your face heat.

“I’m that obvious, huh?” you murmur reproachfully.

“I mean,” she says uncertainly, looking to Ruby as if for backup, “I think you both are? If it helps?”

“Both?” you repeat flatly. “I wish.”

She exchanges a look with Ruby again, a silent conversation that you aren’t part of.

“He’s not into me,” you say, easy, like the words don’t cut at you. The salty air hits the wounds and makes them sting. “He’s been clear about that.”

Ruby’s brow furrows; you’ve never actually articulated this in front of her before.

“He has?” she asks, her voice suddenly gentle and almost sorrowful. “You never told me-”

“You were there,” you protest, then look over at the guys to make sure they hadn’t stopped yelling and running. “You both were, actually. That night when you tore your knee open outside of Ivy and Ivory?”

“Yeah,” Lara says slowly, her eyes on you, “I remember that night. That was… kind of the first time I thought he had a thing for you? Like, I know it was a while ago, but -”

“A thing for me?” you echo, working hard to keep your voice quiet. “When you called us out he was so horrified he couldn’t even touch me - he acted like it burned him -”

“Honey, no,” she says seriously, leaning forward. She looks incredulous at your perspective.

“Bestie,” Ruby says, giving you a please believe me, your best friend, who would never lead you astray look. “He was terrified that you’d get spooked.”

You press your mostly-empty beer can to your chin, eyes narrowing. “Explain.”

“He wasn’t embarrassed at the idea of being coupled with you,” Lara whispers, her eyes on the guys, whose game has drifted only minutely closer to your blanket. “It was one of those like, shut up or you’ll scare her away moments. He wanted to kill me.”

“Literally, if he’d had a cartoon thought bubble, it would have said shhhh, not so loud!” Ruby adds. She peers at you. “Did you really take it like that this whole time? You thought it was a rejection?”

“He practically pushed me into traffic!” you hiss defensively, and both girls explode into laughter.

“That is not what happened,” Lara insists, and then heads to the cooler, leaving you, Ruby, and your very confused thoughts.

You look at her. She looks at you.

“I thought you knew,” she says finally, holding up her hands in mock innocence. “I had no idea you took it that way.”

You can’t respond - the boys return at this exact moment, Mingyu flops dramatically next to Ruby, panting heavily, sweat running down his face.

“Jagiya,” he gasps like he’s dying. “Water. Please.”

Ruby rolls her eyes, but a water bottle lands next to Mingyu’s head before she can get up. You turn towards the cooler and see Soonyoung standing with his hands on his knees, also panting, while Chan digs around for presumably another water bottle.

“You need anything out of here?” he asks you over his shoulder.

You shake your head. “Thanks, though.”

You rise, brushing errant sand from the backs of your thighs, squinting at the water. The waves are breaking evenly, and there’s room to tread further out past the breaking point. “I think I’m gonna go in,” you announce to whoever is listening.

Lara shakes her head, reaching one hand up to tug at Soonyoung, obviously wanting him to sit by her. Ruby flaps her hand at you as if to tell you go on. She’s never been a big swimmer, more of a giant unicorn floatie kind of girl.

You stop when you’re ankle-deep, letting a few waves break and rush over the tops of your feet, adjusting to the temperature. You start to wade in, the water rushing around your shins, when you hear your name called breathlessly behind you.

Chan jogs up, his hair pushed back, a thin silver chain bouncing against his collarbones. You look away before you can get caught. Ruby and Lara’s words race through your brain. Have you been wrong about him this whole time? Have you misread every signal over the last three years, viewed it through the wrong lens?

“You can’t leave me alone with them,” he complains, face twisting in exaggerated suffering.

You laugh. “Can’t stand being the fifth wheel, huh?”

He shakes his head, smiling, still trying to catch his breath from volleyball and then the jog over here.

“You coming in?” you ask him. “I was gonna go out and tread for a while.”

He nods. “You don’t mind if I join?”

You look at him appraisingly, new information starting to process inside your mind, shifting the rules you’d followed for months. The sea air makes you bold. “You?” you say. “I would never mind.”

You don’t wait to see his reaction; you step further into the water, hitting just above your knees when you reach the spot where the waves are breaking. You stumble a little as a wave hits your thighs, and Chan’s hand finds your elbow, firm but unassuming, helping you steady yourself again.

When you reach waist-deep water, you eye the spot just ahead where the waves reach their tallest point as they gather on their way to shore.

“We’re gonna have to go under that,” you tell Chan. He actually looks nervous, which makes you laugh. “Want me to hold your hand?”

The smile he sends you is both self-deprecating and relieved, like he can’t believe his answer is yes, but yes, and he’s so glad you asked.

“Come on,” you say, laughing again. You hold out your hand and he takes it, and when the next ocean swell rises before you like a mighty wall you hold your breath and tug him under. It’s an act of faith, dipping below the roaring ocean, hoping you time it right. You keep his fingers tight between yours and let your body sink.

You surface on the other side, in an area of relative calm. Beside you, Chan wipes at his face with his spare hand, which makes you realize you’re still holding the other. You release it gently, treading water easily. Chan can probably just touch sand if he stretches.

You tread together quietly for a few minutes, less than six inches apart. The sun glints off the water around you, dancing and sparkling as the water moves. You wish you could ask him about that night, years ago, confirm Lara and Ruby’s interpretation of the events. You could - you just aren’t brave enough.

You look at him, familiar and beautiful and - until today - unobtainable. What if you swam closer, what if you pressed yourself close and kissed him, right here in the ocean?

If it ruined everything, you could just let yourself drown. And if it didn’t… well, you could let yourself drown a different way, then.

You chicken out. You chat about inconsequential things instead - his upcoming trip with his family, a work project you’d recently wrapped up that you’d been talking about for months, what the plan will be for dinner when you all get tired of the sunshine.

It’s easy to talk to Chan - it always has been. He’s quick with a joke or a bit, but always open and earnest. He watches you quietly when you talk, accentuates his stories with his hands when it’s his turn. Eventually, Ruby joins you. Mingyu stands at the edge of the water, one hand shielding his eyes, watching her go.

“He’s not coming in?” you ask.

She rolls her eyes. “Doesn’t want to get his hair wet. God, the water feels great. Anyway, we’re thinking of heading in soon, to get showers and stuff before we figure out dinner?”

“Sounds good,” Chan says.

“I’ll be right in,” you say, and beneath the water you grab at Ruby’s hand. Stay.

Chan gives you both a wave goodbye and heads towards the beach. You both watch as he steps onto land, approaches Mingyu, and shakes like a dog, spraying water all over his friend. You can hear Mingyu’s shout of protest even from here, and Ruby’s maniacal laughter echoes around you.

“How’s it going?” she asks you slyly, when she’s finished laughing at her man. Like she knows the answer already.

“Nice of you to ask!” you cry. “Actually! I’m kind of having a meltdown! Because for nearly eight months I thought he’d told me unequivocally, irrevocably no, and now I am finding out that he… I don’t even know. What does it mean? That was ages ago, surely even if he felt something then…”

“Only one way to find out,” Ruby says, way too sensibly.

“That’s not helpful,” you grumble.

“It is helpful, it’s just not easy,” she says sagely. You splash a handful of water towards her head and she shrieks, swimming further away from you.

“That’s enough of you,” you tell her, and start heading in towards the sand.

Back at the blanket, the boys and Lara have mostly packed up. You pull your rolled up towel out of your tote and dry off briskly. When everyone is accounted for, you all collect your things and head back up the walkway towards the house.

You put everything away - leftover drinks in the fridge, wet towels in the washing machine, etc - and the couples disappear into their rooms, doors closing and locking up and down the hallway.

Which just leaves you and Chan.

You follow him to the end of the hall and into the large room you’ll be somehow sharing. He turns on one of the bedside lamps and stops to plug his phone in, then looks over at you.

“You wanna shower?” he asks, tossing his phone lightly onto the bed. You can only stare at him, short-circuiting, until he clarifies. “Do you want to go first?”

“Oh,” you utter, quickly trying to recover. “Yeah, if you don’t mind?”

He waves his hand graciously towards the dark bathroom, as if to say, be my guest.

Showering turns into a reprieve - a locked door between you allowing you to jumpstart your brain again as you feel the hot water remove all the hidden bits of sand clinging to your legs and back.

While Chan takes his turn after you, you escape outside with a cold soda from the fridge. The beach beyond your rental’s deck is still pretty busy, but the crowd has thinned a bit since you all packed up. The sun descends behind the house, which means the sunrise tomorrow morning will come over the beach.

Mingyu seems to be preparing the grill, and Ruby bustles around, bringing out ingredients and setting them close to the grill. On one of the cushioned benches, Lara drapes her legs over Soonyoung’s legs and talks with him quietly, both of them giggling.

Since it seems like your help isn’t needed anywhere - you’ll help set the table when the food is almost ready, as is your usual job as a non-cook - you sit with your cold drink and watch the waves break, lost in thought.

Lara and Ruby seemed so sure that you’d misread Chan that autumn night. There’s a small part of you that’s still doubtful, but at the end of the day you do trust their judgement. So, assuming they’re right, Chan had been interested in you. That was over six months ago, though. It doesn’t mean anything now except that… well… if he was interested in you once, there’s a possibility he could be again. Or still.

Your move, it seems, is to figure out if that’s the case. Chan hasn’t done anything recently to indicate that he’s disinterested, but he also hasn’t done anything to indicate that he is. He - like you - has played it very safe. It isn’t until now that you’ve questioned if it’s because he actually sees you platonically, or if he thinks that’s what you want.

One of you is going to have to push the boundary, to test the waters.

When Chan emerges from the house, freshly showered and hair falling over his forehead nearly to his eyes, you look up from where you’re sitting and watch him thoughtfully. He pauses at the grill to ask Mingyu something, then passes by the mess of limbs that is Soonyoung and Lara, then drops onto the seat next to you.

“Mingyu says it’ll be another twenty minutes or so until everything’s done,” he informs you.

“Guess I should get the plates and stuff,” you sigh, leaning forward to set your drink on the table.

“I can help you,” he offers, and follows you inside, where you both open cabinets and drawers in the unfamiliar kitchen until you find everything you need.

He heads outside ahead of you, his hands loaded with utensils and condiments, and you pause, watching his dark silhouette against the evening sunlight. Your heart tumbles, and you jerk back into motion, following him into the light.

You all stay on the back deck until well after sunset. As the sky sinks into deeper and deeper blues, you rise and plug in the string of lights that weave through the beams above the deck, casting everyone in a nearly-orange glow. Mingyu sets up the tabletop fire pit, but you end up chilly anyway as night takes hold.

You shiver once, and you notice Chan looking sideways at you.

“Cold?” he asks, and the wave of deja vu you get is almost dizzying.

You shake your head instinctively, more against the memory than actually answering the question. “I’m fine,” you say, even though you do have goosebumps rising along your arms.

He gets up anyway, heading into the unlit house without a word. You rise a beat later and head across the deck.

Ruby calls your name like a question, and in answer you point at the cooler tucked behind the grill, where you’d all stashed beer and water bottles. She gives a quick “ah” of understanding.

“You need one?” you ask her, as you shuffle behind the grill and pull on the cooler’s lid.

“I’ll take a beer,” Mingyu answers for her, and you dig through the bottles and cans until you find his preferred brand, reaching to pass it to him over Soonyoung’s head. Then you turn back and look at your options, trying to decide if you want a can of spiked seltzer or if you want to go inside and mix something a little harder.

While you’re deciding, the glass door to your left slides open, and Chan steps quietly back onto the deck. He’s in a baby blue hoodie that he hadn’t been wearing before, and he carries a bundle of dark material in his hands.

“Here,” he says quietly, holding it out to you. “It felt weird to dig through your luggage, so I grabbed one of mine.”

You take his offering silently, fighting a tiny smile. “Thanks,” you say, equally quiet, like you’ve both agreed you want to keep this moment between you, not call the attention of the others. You shake the dark hoodie out and pull it over your head, slipping your arms into the sleeves and fixing the hood so it’s not inside-out. The hem falls almost past your shorts, and the sleeves reach past your fingers.

Chan bends to grab a beer from the cooler, then heads back to where he was sitting before. You reach for your own drink, settling on a seltzer after all, and when you turn to head back to your spot you can’t help but notice him watching you through the flickering fire pit, something unreadable on his face.

“You good?” you ask him as you settle back into your spot.

“Yeah,” he says, but there’s something tight in his voice that makes the goosebumps rise on your arms again despite the new layer of warmth you’re wearing. That smells like him. You tug on the edges of the sleeves to pull the shoulders tighter and curl up on your chair, tucking your legs into the baggy material and locking back into the conversation.

The night moves slowly, the constellations rotating centimeter by centimeter above you, everything made comfortably fuzzy by the drinks and the firelight. Sometime before midnight, Ruby suggests a walk along the beach.

You go in bare feet, the cool wood of the deck stairs giving way to sand as soft as silk. Mingyu and Ruby take the lead, the rest of you trailing behind. At some point - long after the house disappears from view - Lara stops, pointing up at the moon - a sliver above the undulating sea.

The four of you stop and look for a minute. Down the beach, you can hear Ruby and Mingyu but they’re out of sight in the dark.

“We should probably catch up with them,” you say, looking in the direction of their disembodied voices.

“I think we’re gonna head back to the house, actually,” Lara says, looking up at Soonyoung to gauge if he agrees. “We’ll leave the back door unlocked for you all?”

They say their goodbyes and head back hand in hand, leaving you alone with Chan and that sliver of moon. For a minute, the night seems to expand around you, growing bigger and bigger and leaving the two of you so small within it. Chan looks at you silently, as if he’s waiting for something, one side of his mouth quirked into an almost-smile that makes your stomach swim with the desire to cause a real smile, to push that little almost into something fully-formed.

Then, Ruby calls your names loudly from further up the beach, and the spell is broken.

“Guess we better catch up,” Chan says wryly. You both turn and start walking in silence, nearly shoulder to shoulder. As you walk, the back of your hand brushes the back of his just once, and your entire body prickles at the contact. You almost shift away, give him a little more space, but something urges you to hold the line. You want to see what he will do.

You keep walking, close enough that you can hear him breathing, hear the sand slide each time he takes a step. The back of his hands brushes yours again, warm. He doesn’t react, so neither do you.

You carry on, knuckles occasionally bumping his, until you find Ruby and Mingyu. They’re standing watching the moon, Mingyu wrapped around Ruby’s back like a giant, love-sick koala.

“Where’re Soonyoung and Lara?” Ruby asks, when she notices you.

“They headed back,” you say, stopping a few feet away.

“We should, too,” Ruby muses, eyes on the moon. “But it’s so pretty here.”

“It is,” Chan murmurs from beside you and you glance sideways at him, trying to read him. He’s staring out at the dark sea, the stars flickering in and out above it, giving you his profile. Ruby’s eyes flick to you, one eyebrow quirked. You look away, not wanting to get caught in this silent conversation, but you can feel the heat on your face, the smile tugging at your mouth.

The house is dark when you all return, and you let yourselves back in quietly, just in case Soonyoung and Lara are actually sleeping. You bid Ruby and Mingyu goodnight in whispers and head to the end of the hall. Chan closes the door and you flick on the bedside lamp, casting a low yellow light through the room.

Wordlessly, Chan begins to rummage through his suitcase, transferring items to a small pile - a pair of loose shorts, a toothbrush, his phone charger. It occurs to you, suddenly, that he’s gathering what he needs to leave - to go sleep on a couch.

“Chan,” you say. You don’t even know what you want to say next. You just know you don’t want him to go, don’t want him to sleep on a couch, don’t want to be here alone.

He pauses, turning to look at you over his shoulder.

What do you want to say? Stay? You balk, suddenly chicken again.

“I can take the couch tonight,” you say instead. He shakes his head, but you press on. “We can switch tomorrow.”

“Nope,” he says easily.

“Chan,” you say again. He keeps rummaging, his back to you.

“Chan,” you repeat, insistent. He turns fully, still crouching, and raises his eyebrows as if to say, yes?

“Do you want to just stay here?” you ask, trying to keep your voice from shaking. It feels like a moment of great enormity.

He shakes his head, and the rejection stings enough that you feel your breath catch.

But then he says, “No, I’m not letting you sleep on a couch. I’m trying to be a gentleman - quit fighting me.”

You realize, slowly, that he misunderstood what you were offering.

“No,” you say. “I meant… like… no one on the couch.”

He stares at you blankly, his hands open like he forgot he was searching for something.

Embarrassment licks up the back of your neck like flames. “The bed isn’t that small,” you say, a little defensive. “We could just, like, stay on our own sides.”

The blank look on his face slowly transforms. His brows come together, his mouth tucking into a rare frown. He opens his mouth like he’s going to ask something, but nothing comes out. His eyes flick to the bed and then back to you.

“I don’t…” he says, and the heat of embarrassment heightens. He clears his throat and tries again, “I don’t want you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable,” he says slowly.

“I wouldn’t suggest it if I wasn’t okay with it,” you point out.

He nods slowly, then pushes himself to stand. “Are you extremely sure?” he asks, peering at you. “This isn’t a High Noon decision, is it?”

You laugh, the tension dissipating a little. “No,” you assure him. “I just… feel bad putting you on a couch… and I don’t particularly want to sleep on a couch either… and I think we can… not make it weird?”

“We can,” he says, like a promise.

You second-guess your decision the whole time you get ready for bed - as you brush your teeth, as you change into pajamas, as you settle into the side of the bed by the balcony and plug in your phone. You’re nervous you won’t be able to keep it not weird - nervous that you won’t be able to keep your hands to yourself, that the magnetic pull to touch him will be too strong.

But when Chan climbs into the other side of the bed and clicks off the light, illuminated only by his phone screen, his warmth seeping into the blankets around you, it isn’t your hands that inch towards him. It’s your words. They claw their way out, desperate to reach across the six inches of darkness.

Chan, I’m actually really into you.

What really happened that night, when we were walking from bar to bar?

I’m in love with you, probably. I think.

Are you interested in me? At all?

You fight them all back, hold them all in. You don’t relax until Chan’s clicked his phone off and placed it on the nightstand, whispered goodnight to you, until you hear his breathing deepen. Just in case. Just in case the words get out the second you unclench - you need him to be asleep first so you can be sure he won’t hear them. You fall asleep with your face buried in the crook of your elbow, one last line of defense.

You wake up with your face buried in the crook of Chan’s neck instead of your own arm. You realize it instantly, body freezing like you’re about to get caught stealing, your whole body tight with panic. Like if you don’t move, you won’t wake him, and he won’t know that you cuddled him in your sleep.

Mortifying.

He’s mostly on his back but sort of tilted towards you, and you have one arm over his ribs, your nose pressed into the juncture of his shoulder. But, you realize as you stay frozen, his arms are around you. This was a mutual cuddle. Your legs are touching, too, one of your shins between his.

You try to breathe as shallowly as possible, fight the urge to stretch or roll or scoot away. You don’t want to alert him, pop this bubble, make the moment end. Chan is holding you as the sun rises over the ocean outside. It feels like another daydream, too good to be true. You never want it to end. You wish it was more real than this.

Slowly, you relax, one limb at a time, letting your muscles unclench and inhaling deeply. His skin, warm against your cheek, smells good - still a bit salty from the ocean, even after showering. But it’s only moments later that he stirs, his arms tightening around you and then loosening again as he makes a satisfied, low noise in his throat.

Then he goes still. You freeze back up, watching him for a reaction.

His mouth moves first, quirking sideways, and then he cracks one eye and peers down at you. A laugh bubbles from him and the cuddle is disintegrating around you as he shifts himself backwards and up on his elbows, still chuckling.

“Sorry,” he’s laughing, “sorry. I didn’t - that - I did not expect to do that in my sleep.”

You can’t help your own sheepish smile in return. “Me either, but it was actually comfy,” you admit. Now disentangled, you feel kind of cold and a little sad. But he’s acting like it was a funny goof, your bodies clinging to each other the second your brains turned off, so you’ll go along with the joke.

He rolls over and rummages on his nightstand, returning with his phone in hand and pushing thin-framed glasses up his nose. You look away, heart clenching. You love him in those; combined with the bedhead and his smell in your nose and the warmth of his skin not yet evaporated from yours and the feeling of his arms around you… it’s all a lot.

“I’m gonna… get dressed,” you say, reaching for your own phone. Chan hums a response and you vanish into the bathroom, brushing your teeth and getting ready as slowly as possible. When you come out, the bedroom is blessedly empty. You close your eyes and exhale. It’s going to be a long day.

When you finally head down to the kitchen, Lara and Chan are chatting easily at the table, steaming mugs in their hands. He’s still in those damn cute glasses.

“Good morning!” Lara greets you brightly. “There’s coffee!”

“God bless you,” you tell her seriously. You open a cabinet in search of a mug, but you’re faced with only plates and glassware instead. Chan appears at the cabinet next to you, reaching up and offering you a white mug with a cartoon seagull on it.

“Thanks,” you say, feeling weirdly shy considering you just woke up pressed against him. Once you fix the coffee how you like it, you take the seat next to Lara at the table. “Everyone else still asleep?” you ask.

“Soonyoung is, but I have to go wake him up in a minute,” Lara says, clicking on her phone screen to check the time. “We have a snorkeling thing at ten.”

“Ruby and Mingyu are out already,” Chan tells you. “Sunrise yoga. She texted us.”

“God,” you say, horrified. “Mingyu’s gonna hate that.” You realize at the mention of her text that you’ve left your phone upstairs.

Chan laughs. “Right?”

Lara rises, presumably to go wake up her boyfriend. “Her text said they’d be out until around four,” she tells you as she moves back into the kitchen to rinse out her mug. “I think they’ll beat us back, but not by much. Maybe we can go grab dinner when everyone’s back?”

“Sure,” you say, shooting a look at Chan to see if he has any opinions on this plan. He shrugs - no opinions to be found. You’ve always loved the way he could just go with the flow, happy to be along for the adventure.

You and Chan are still sitting at the table, coffees dwindling, when Lara pulls a bleary-eyed Soonyoung through the front door with a shouted goodbye, the sound of the car’s engine reaching you from outside. You look at each other, left alone together.

Again.

He gives you a flat, unamused look that he definitely picked up from Seungkwan or Vernon. “Are they doing this on purpose?” he asks, and a jolt goes through you. He’s said it. It’s like a curtain being pulled, shedding sunlight on something that had been shadowbound until now.

“Doing what?” you say, even though you know. “Leaving us by ourselves? Probably. Ruby likes to fuck with me.”

Chan laughs, and you’re filled with shaky relief that the moment isn’t weird. You both knew what this was, apparently, and facing it has put you on the same team against it.

“I thought it was to fuck with me,” he admits, still smiling.

“Two birds with one stone,” you muse. “For the sake of efficiency.”

But you wonder… why would it be fucking with him if he wasn’t interested in you? Is he admitting something?

“Well,” Chan says, stretching his arms above his head, fingers linked, “by all means, you can do your own thing today. You don’t have to babysit me. But it’s supposed to storm later, so I was thinking I’d use the pool a bit this morning while we still can, and then maybe go into town for lunch.”

You consider this. “That’s very pragmatic of you,” you observe lightly.

“That’s one of the first words I’d pick to describe myself,” he tries to deadpan, but the smile is too quick, telling on himself.

You let him get changed first, and when you make your way out back to the pool he’s already in the water up to his waist. You toss a towel onto one of the chaises.

“How’s the water?” you ask him, as you move to sit on the edge, preparing to let your legs dangle.

“It’s great,” he tells you, smiling easily, like he’s happy - happy you’re here, happy to be here with you.

You wonder if that’s the case, as you slowly lower your legs in, the water coming to lap a few inches below your knees.

“Feels cold,” you tell him. It doesn’t, really - way warmer than the ocean you played in yesterday, but you want to tease him a little.

Suddenly, his hands are on your ankles, holding you firmly. His hands are on your ankles.

“You should get in quickly,” he tells you, trying - again - to pretend to be serious, despite the smile he can’t combat. “Like ripping off a band-aid.”

“Lee Chan,” you warn, but a giggle rises up in you. “Don’t you dare. I will get in when I am good and ready!”

“I’m just trying to help,” he says, pretending to be hurt. His fingers are still pressing against your skin, your brain impossibly aware of the exact spot his thumb presses, as if there’s a beacon illuminating the place.

He gives your legs a playful tug, too lightly to actually move you. You squeal anyway, reaching down to splash water towards him. “Chan!”

He releases your ankles, taking a step back to avoid the splash, laughing. “Be careful,” he warns. “If it’s war you want -” He holds his hand like a knife above the water, ready to retaliate the splash.

“Oh my God, you menace. I’m getting in!” you cry, gripping the lip of the pool and sliding in, staying on your tippy-toes as your body adjusts to the temperature.

“Come on,” he goads, backing away from you, bobbing towards the shallow end. “You have to go under or it doesn’t count.”

“You’re a menace,” you repeat firmly, and he laughs, enjoying that his teasing has worked you up.

You eye the expanse of water between you - you’re at opposite ends of the pool now. “Do you think I could make it across in one go?” you ask.

He raises an eyebrow. “Like, underwater? I don’t know - how’s your lung capacity?”

You laugh. “Maybe not good enough,” you admit wryly. “But I’ll try.”

You take a deep breath of salty sea air, only minorly marred by chlorine, and slip down below the surface. You let the bottoms of your feet find the flat cement wall of the pool, and you give a hearty push. It’s hard without being able to see how much farther you have to go, but you hate getting chlorine in your eyes, so you kick and pull blindly until your lungs start to burn. When your natural buoyancy pulls you upward, you don’t fight it.

Your hands find something warm and solid before you surface. Surprise causes you to rear your head, fucking with your balance, and your feet find the floor of the pool. You stand up unsteadily, blinking water out of your eyes.

Chan comes into focus, his expression tight, and you realize that your hands had found his stomach, centimeters above his belly button.

“Sorry,” you say quickly, pulling away.

It’s like ever since last night, you can’t stop touching, your bodies fighting to come together even as you both dig in your heels and try to stop it.

“No worries,” he says just as quickly. You try to cover the moment by wiping water out of your face, but you feel warm all over, the cool water useless against your heated skin as you try to push away how his muscled stomach had felt under your fingertips.

You spend a good hour just floating and splashing around. Sometimes you chat and sometimes you lapse into comfortable silence. At one point you hear him singing lightly under his breath, his voice surprisingly clear but frustratingly quiet.

Eventually, your stomach growls. “I’m starting to get hungry,” you tell him. “You up for lunch in town, maybe? I’d just need to shower super quick first.”

“Sounds great,” he says easily, and you both head for the single runged ladder at the deep end. Chan climbs up first, standing by the ladder, dripping onto the concrete. You grip the metal handles firmly and find the bottom rung with one foot, pushing heavily to hoist yourself up.

And Chan helps you up - his fingers finding the dip of your waist and guiding you until you’re steadily on the pool deck, something protective in the touch.

Your entire body thrums, electric, cells vibrating. You hurry to your towel and wrap yourself up, hiding your face in the material - pretending you’re just chasing droplets away from your eyes, but actually smothering the urge to scream, if you’re going to touch me then get over here and do it properly!

“Did you know there’s a hot tub under the deck? Was that mentioned in the listing?” Chan asks, and you uncover your face.

“Huh?”

He’s pointing, and then you see that he’s right - tucked beneath the deck is a decently-sized jacuzzi, the lid on and straps fastened shut.

“Oh,” you say breathlessly. “Well, I know what I’m doing after dinner.”

Chan laughs, and you head inside, careful not to drip a trail of pool water through the house.

The rest of the morning passes pleasantly and without any touching; you shower and get changed and go on foot into the small beach town. You find a cute open-air cafe and order lunch, the iced coffee absolutely divine under the warm summer sun. The company’s not bad either.

After you’ve paid and left, Chan pauses on the sidewalk and gives you a mischievous smile. “Up for a little adventure?” he asks.

You frown. “What level of adventure?” you ask cautiously. “Like, on a scale of jumping out of a plane being ten to laying on my towel in the sand being one, what are we talking here?”

He laughs. “Like a three,” he assures you. “We just have a bit of a walk - maybe twenty minutes?”

The walk is pleasant - you don’t even get too warm, as there’s a constant breeze off the ocean and clouds pass overhead, pitching you momentarily into shade between longer bouts of sunshine. When you turn a bend and see the lighthouse rise against the sky in the distance, you actually gasp.

“Can we go up?” you ask, delighted.

“That’s the plan,” he tells you, and for once you can read his face perfectly - he’s pleased that he’s surprised you, pleased to have made you happy. Something warm simmers under your skin, affection and happiness and something else.

It takes forever to reach the top. You have to stop and rest more than once, your calves burning and protesting the many stairs. A few families pass you on their way down, one mother telling you cheerfully that you’re almost to the top. This motivates you to continue, and you press on until you reach the final landing and step through the metal doorway.

The view is absolutely worth it. The beach and the ocean stretch out before you, the town in the distance behind you. Alone at the top, you feel like you’re in your own little world, surrounded by sunlight and the calls of gulls, just you and Chan.

You stand, holding the railing, watching the waves undulate far below you for a long time. “Chan,” you say, and then falter. You don’t know what you were going to say. Some part of you thinks maybe you’d been about to confess, or to finally ask him something to shed light on his feelings.

When he looks at you, expectant, you say only, “Thanks for bringing me here.”

And maybe you did confess something, because he reaches over and squeezes your hand, just once.

And then, he looks over your shoulder and utters, “Uh oh.”

You spin, following his gaze, and echo, “Uh oh.”

Dark grey clouds gather to the west. You remember him saying it was supposed to storm later; it looks like rain will be rolling in soon, ushering in the storms behind it.

“We’d better head down,” he says regretfully, and you follow him back inside.

You make it down and outside before the rain comes, but the sunshine of the morning has gone and left gloomy grey in its wake.

“You think we can make it back to the house?” you ask breathlessly.

Chan checks the time on his phone, already walking brisky back towards the direction of town and your rental. “Maybe,” he says, but he sounds doubtful. “We’ve gotta be quick, though.”

You barely even make it into town; you aren’t even back at the cafe where you’d had lunch before the sky opens. It happens exactly like that - one second it’s not raining, the next second you’re drenched, hair plastered to your face, shirt sticking to your back, spluttering breaths through your mouth like you’re being sprayed with a hose.

You let out a cry of surprise, and then Chan is grabbing your hand and tugging, pulling you off of the sidewalk and into a nearby doorway. You don’t even manage to see what the doorway belongs to - Chan is already pulling it open, his hand still in yours as he leads you inside.

It’s dark, and it takes your eyes a minute to adjust as you wipe rain away from your eyes and shake droplets off of your arms. Beside you, Chan is doing the same, running a hand through his soaked hair and huffing out a noise of disbelief.

“That,” you say, “was bonkers.”

You seem to be in a dimly-lit dive bar, the kind that only locals go to. It’s pretty empty, since it’s early afternoon on a weekday, so when Chan raises a soggy, questioning eyebrow at you, you shrug and follow him towards the bar. Why not?

You take a seat wearily, and pull out your phone.

“We’ve got almost an hour until everyone is supposed to be back,” you inform him.

“In that case,” he says, and when the bartender meanders over, he orders you a row of shots to share.

You clink shot glasses for the first one, but after that you turn it into a game.

Chan narrows his eyes at you, mock-thoughtful. “What would you do if you woke up and your hands and feet had switched places?”

After answering (use my toes to order an Uber to the hospital), you volley with, “What would you do if aliens invaded tomorrow?”

Back and forth the game goes, punctuated by shot glasses being emptied and returned to the bar. What would you do if you woke up married in Vegas? … What would you do if you woke up one day and could only speak in rhyme? … What would you do if you were suddenly allergic to your favorite food? … What would you do if you were forced to join the circus?

You’re both laughing deliriously. Chan is wiping under his eyes in mirth, and you’ve hunched over so far that you find yourself with your hands on his knees, using him to stay upright on your barstool. Your surroundings have faded into colors and muted sounds with the alcohol in your system. All you can focus on is Chan, warm and solid under your palms, his eyes on you, the sound of his laugh cutting straight through the fog.

Then his next one isn’t so funny. “What would you do if you found out you only had a day to live?” he asks, and despite the seriousness, one last chuckle rumbles through his chest, like an aftershock.

Tell you. Tell you the truth.

You swallow. You take your hands off of his knees - you’re not sure he even noticed them there - and flex your fingers. And then, filter demolished by both alcohol and the sheer amount of time it’s been keeping you in check, you break.

Instead of answering, you fire back your own. “What would you do if I came onto you right now?”

Chan blinks at you, eyes as wide as you’ve ever seen them. He blinks twice more, and then his mouth opens. Your heart pounds.

“I’d - I - I guess, I’d probably kiss you,” he says, voice suddenly hushed, as if he’s a little unsure if he’s supposed to be honest or if the game is still a string of jokes.

You stare back. The two of you are frozen, both a bit wide-eyed, like neither of you is sure how you ended up like this.

Then, you breathe, “Okay, then do it.”

He nods immediately, breath coming sharply, and shifts closer on his seat. You feel like you’re holding your breath, waiting. Tentatively, he reaches up, brushes your jaw with his thumb.

Beside you, your phone blares to life on the bar. You both jump, startled out of the moment.

“Ruby,” you tell him hollowly. His hand still hovers near your face, but he nods, pulling it away. You feel like you can barely breathe as you slide your thumb to take the call.

“Hey,” you say into the phone, your eyes on Chan.

“Hey,” Ruby says, “where are you guys? Our thing ended early because of the rain so we’re back at the house.”

“Oh,” you say, trying hard to focus on her voice in her ear and not what just almost happened. “We’re in town. At… a bar? We came in to get out of the rain.”

“Perfect,” Ruby says. Across from you, Chan is rubbing his hands down the tops of his thighs, like they’re sweaty. You wonder if he’s nervous. “We’ll get changed and come get you guys in the car, and then we can go grab dinner together.”

You agree and hang up, then repeat the plan to Chan, who nods. He looks how you feel - a bit shell-shocked, a bit uncertain.

“We need to sober up,” you say. “Or, at least, I do.”

“No, me too,” he says, shaking his head. He sighs, and he might as well have said, goddamn Ruby. You hear it all. Then he seems to give himself a shake, orders you each a water, and asks to close his tab.

“They’re just up the street,” you tell him when Ruby’s text rolls in a bit later.

He nods, uncharacteristically quiet. You wish you could peek inside his brain and see what’s going on in there.

“Hey,” you say, and his eyes snap to you, that open look you know so well on his face. Your voice softens, and you resist the urge to reach out and touch his hand when you continue. “Here’s what I don’t want to happen - I don’t want Ruby to sniff out that something’s going on and interrogate me before we can… talk, ourselves. So let’s pull it together, and get through dinner, and then we can…”

We can what? Pick up where we left off?

He nods anyway, even though you’d left the thought unfinished. “You’re right,” he says.

And, somehow, you do. You both pull it together, rush through the pouring rain from the bar to the open car door. You smile and tease and laugh through dinner, like nothing had happened at all.

You feel relieved, in the back of Ruby’s car, as you all make your way back to the house. You did it - you got through dinner unscathed. Now you can go inside, and have some privacy, and talk and maybe figure out -

“Did you guys know the rental has a hot tub?” Chan asks, and you turn to look at him, baffled.

“It has a what?” Ruby gasps.

“Yep,” he says cheerfully, like he hasn’t just shattered your dream of getting a moment to yourselves. “It’s under the deck. Which means - hey! - it’s covered! We could totally go in, we wouldn’t even be in the rain.”

“That sounds great, actually,” Lara muses.

You say nothing, but when he catches you looking sideways at him, Chan sends you a wink, quick as lightning. You feel your face go puzzled, and he smiles and looks away, giving you no answers.

You’re somehow the first one to get changed and outside; it’s still pouring rain and you cover your head with your towel as you make your way down the steps and under the deck where some drips make it through, but you’re mostly out of the rain. A quick sweep of the area with your phone’s flashlight shows that there’s a string of the same lights down here as above on the deck, and you hurry to plug them in. Now that you can see, it’s actually kind of cute under here.

You unsnap the first strap for the lid, and jump when a pair of hands reaches next to you for the second one. You hadn’t heard Chan approach, but you silently accept his help as you push the lid up and off. You watch him out of the corners of your eyes to see if he’s going to say anything, address it at all. When it seems like he’s not, you turn to climb up the little set of steps, resigned.

His hand closes around your wrist, stilling you. He gives the tiniest of tugs and you relent, turning around. He gives you another tiny tug - you could resist if you wanted to, but you don’t, you don’t, you don’t. You let the tug pull you closer and look up at him, waiting. He kisses you quickly, firmly, close-mouthed for now but sure, his hands forming loose loops around each of your wrists as if he might want to tug you into place again.

The sliding glass door above you slides open and you step away, heart racing.

“Later,” he says quietly, and then you don’t get another second alone, Mingyu and Soonyoung’s voices bouncing through the space as they clamber down the deck stairs.

You climb into the warm water and choose a spot. Chan follows and sits a few solid feet away from you. You try not to look guilty when the other guys round the corner.

“Brought you a beer,” Mingyu says, reaching the extra can towards you.

“You are a legend,” you tell him gratefully.

Chan frowns, and for a crazed second you think maybe he’s jealous that Mingyu did something nice for you, but then he whines, “You didn’t bring me one? Hyung.”

“Calm your ass down,” Mingyu says, climbing into the water and finding a seat. You’re instantly more crowded, just from the sheer amount of space his long legs take up. “Soonyoung has yours.”

You snicker a little, and Chan gives you a light kick under the water. Above you, you hear the door slide open again, and a minute later Ruby and Lara appear beneath the deck, sheltered from the rain by Ruby’s towel.

“Oh,” Ruby says, surprised. “It’s not bad under here!”

“It’s cute, right?” you agree. “Still getting a few raindrops, though.”

“Eh, we’re in water anyway,” Soonyoung says easily, reaching up a hand to help steady Lara as she climbs in.

It’s crowded, and Chan’s two-feet-away doesn’t last. Instead, you’re crowded together, just inches apart. Ruby leans over the edge and turns on the jets, the top of the water creating a frothy layer.

“This is nice,” Lara says happily, closing her eyes and leaning against her boyfriend’s shoulder.

“It is,” you murmur, sipping at your beer. Under the cover of the jets’ bubbles, something touches your hand. Someone’s hand touches your hand. Chan’s hand touches your hand.

Your heart lurches. You beg your face to behave and give nothing away. And ever so slowly, you turn your hand over.

He doesn’t look at you, keeps his eyes on Soonyoung, who’s telling a story animatedly on the other side of the jacuzzi. But his fingers lace between yours, and his thumb brushes along the back of your hand, slow and tantalizing.

You’ve never been so undone by hand holding in your life.

You try to breathe. You sip casually at your beer and interject into the conversation when you can. You laugh at the jokes and look at whoever is speaking. You have no idea what the conversation is about. You hold onto Chan’s slender fingers like he’s a lifeline, like if you let go he’ll slip away, again and for good.

Later, he’d said, and his voice echoes in your head as you pray for later to be now. And finally, blessedly, Lara finally yawns, loud, and starts making moves to get out and head in. Which means so does Soonyoung. Then Mingyu lifts a hand from the water and examines his fingers, complaining, “I’m all pruny.” Chan gives your hand a squeeze and lets you go, reaching for his beer nonchalantly, watching Ruby and Mingyu carefully. You know you’re both waiting, impatiently, for them to leave you alone.

Leave, you silently beg, still trying to appear as casual as possible. Leaaaaave.

“You staying a little?” Ruby asks you, pausing halfway out of the hot tub.

“Yeah,” you say, trying to force your voice to stay casual. “I slept pretty late this morning - I’m not really tired yet.”

“Not all of us got up for sunrise yoga,” Chan says dryly, and Mingyu laughs, reaching for Ruby’s hand, clearly wanting to get inside.

“Okay, then,” Ruby says, her eyes still on you. “See you in the morning then.”

“Bye,” you tell her, and you have to fight the giggle out of your voice. You can’t help it - you feel giddy, nearly bouncing with excitement. You and Chan have been skirting the brink of something all day and you’re finally standing on the cusp of it, toes curled over the edge, ready to dive.

The second you hear the sliding door above you close, Chan’s hand is on your wrist again, pulling much more insistently than he had earlier in the day. Surprised, you let him tug you onto his lap, settling with your thighs bracketing his own, his hands wasting no time in finding your hips and pulling you more firmly against him.

His mouth is on yours, as insistent as his touch. You answer him readily, nearly sighing into his mouth as you get something you’ve wanted for years. You skate your hands up his chest and bring your arms around the back of his neck. He tips his head back a little, his hands sliding up your back, and the change in angle makes you sigh again.

“Thought they’d never leave,” he mutters against your jaw, and you let out a quick huff of a laugh before your breath leaves you entirely as his teeth nip a line down your neck, tongue and lips soothing behind each quick sting.

You chase his mouth, wanting him back, and he groans quietly when he realizes - like you wanting to continue kissing is just as good as actually kissing. But nothing is as good as the kissing, not if anyone asks you, nothing is as good as his tongue against yours, his teeth gentle on your lips, his hands clutching at your back and your arms and your hips like he can’t pick a favorite.

His hands roaming your body ignite you. You become only aware of their migration as they map the width of your shoulders, survey the dip of your waist, skate over your ass, then repeat the expedition. Your fingers have found his hair, curled up and held tight. He takes your hips in his hands and shifts you on his lap, causing you to tug slightly, and his exhale holds just the slightest hint of a whimper. You almost unravel, right there.

The shifted position also makes it absolutely unignorable that Chan is hard beneath you, and you can’t - don’t even try to - stop yourself from pressing yourself closer, your hips rolling almost involuntarily as soon as you feel him. Chan gasps at the sudden friction, his eyes squeezing shut for a second, like he’s already going under. Then his hands - frozen on your hips while his brain rebooted - come back to life, slipping up your ribs to cup both of your breasts over your bathing suit, giving one slow knead to both in tandem. You moan, low, unable to stop it, and he responds almost instantly, letting out an audibly shuddering breath.

He surges upwards to kiss you again, one thumb still rubbing circles against your hardening nipple, the other hand trailing back down your side and gripping your waist, holding you in place. You continue to move against him, his mouth hot against yours, the water bubbling around you and surrounding you in mist.

Chan’s nimble fingers leave your chest and work their way down between your bodies, pausing at the edge of your bathing suit bottoms. He looks up at you, pupils blown, panting out controlled little breaths like he’s fighting to keep himself in check.

Eyes unwavering on yours, watching your reactions closely, he slips his fingers between your legs, pressing the material against you, sliding down your slit and back deftly. His cock kicks beneath you when you whine. His gaze on you feels charged, almost like a challenge.

And then you’re blinded by a flash, followed almost instantly by an alarming crack of thunder.

“Fuck,” Chan hisses, twisting to peer out towards the ocean, his hands finding your hips again as if by instinct. “The storm.”

“Guess we have to head in,” you say, and it comes out wispy and breathless. Your legs feel like jelly and he’s barely even started.

“Yeah,” he says, the single syllable tight. He adjusts himself as you vacate the water, the rain beyond the safety of the deck seeming to redouble its efforts. You both hurry to turn the jets off and replace the cover, then stand at the edge of the dry space, looking out at the raging rain.

As hot and heavy as things were only a minute ago, you feel oddly still now, staring out at the storm. Chan places your towel over your shoulders.

“Thanks,” you say quietly, looking sideways at him.

“Ready?” he asks you, and you think he means ready to brave the storm. But your heart is answering another question - are you ready to continue, ready to move forward with him, ready to give life to something that has remained only a daydream in your mind?

“I don’t know,” you tell him honestly.

He slips his hand into yours. “I’ve got you,” he promises.

You move quickly but carefully through the rain, eyes on your feet as you take the slippery wooden stairs up the deck and towards the house. Chan doesn’t let go of your hand until you’re inside, sliding the door shut behind you. The house is dark and quiet, lit only by a single light above the kitchen sink. You both stand near the door and try to dry off, but your towels got soaked by the rain and don’t do much good.

“Come on,” Chan whispers. “There are fresh towels upstairs.”

You follow him through the house, up the stairs and down the darkened hallway. Chan pauses at the linen closet, pulling out two fluffy towels. You lead him into your shared room, closing and locking the door behind you as he clicks on one of the lamps.

Chan comes back into your space quietly, wraps you both in his towel, the spare forgotten on top of your dresser. You’re pressed tight together, warm in his arms. He presses his lips to the top of your head, leaving them resting there, just holding you. The moment is soft, heavy, a stark contrast to the lightning physicality of what happened outside. Something about the intimacy of it makes you feel hesitant.

“You okay?” he asks, pulling away a little to look at you.

“Yeah,” you breathe back. Your heart is racing. But it’s Chan. It’s Chan with his arms around you, and Chan who was kissing you and touching you, and - it all feels like something you aren’t allowed to have. “Just… maybe we shouldn’t?”

“We don’t have to,” he says immediately, shifting backwards and loosening his arms around you, giving you the option of pulling away if you want it. “We can do whatever you’re comfortable with. If you want to just go to bed… or if you want me to take the couch tonight, I can -”

“No,” you say quickly, because that’s the opposite of what you want. “No, it’s just… Chan…”

He seems to hear your uncertainty in your voice, his face softening and his arms pulling you back in. “What is it?” he asks quietly, and you slip your arms around his middle, giving in.

“I think I want this a lot more than you do,” you whisper, glad you don’t have to look at him while you say it.

He laughs, and you step back, looking at him quizzically. You’d been afraid of his reaction - of making him uncomfortable, of pushing the line too far. You hadn’t expected laughter.

“I don’t think that’s possible,” he tells you, and you just stare at him, not comprehending. He reaches up, fingers still clutching a corner of the towel wrapped loosely around his back, and brushes a thumb along your jaw. You feel your face warm, but you wait him out. He adds, “I want this… a ridiculous amount. I’ve wondered for a long time if we could… be more.”

He says it like a confession. He says it like he’s embarrassed about it.

“Well,” you say, a fire - a hope - coming back to life behind your ribcage, “maybe we should find out.”

And there it is, that smile that makes the whole world melt away.

The towel drops to the floor, forgotten, and his fingers are at the back of your neck, tugging on the knot that ties your bathing suit top in place. When the material falls away he makes a satisfied noise in his throat as he moves to kiss you again, walking you back towards the bed.

You’d both been eager, but when the mattress hits the backs of your thighs Chan lays you back slowly, almost reverently. He kisses you sweetly, tracing your jaw again, and then lets out another little laugh.

“What?” you breathe, smiling despite being clueless. “What’s funny?”

“Nothing. It’s not,” he says, but he’s still smiling, eyes tracing over your face and body. “It’s just… hard to believe this is real. That it’s you.”

Your breath leaves you. It’s exactly how you’ve felt.

“I know what you mean,” you whisper, and you kiss him again. This time he doesn’t hesitate when his hand slips between your legs, brushing right past your bathing suit and pushing the pads of his fingers into the wet mess he finds there. You shudder an exhale into his waiting mouth as he presses one finger and then a second deep into you, his eyes on you as you arch into the touch.

You let your eyes drift close as he pumps them slowly, and outside the room there’s another flash of lightning chased by the crack of thunder. For a little, there’s only the sound of rain beating against the windows as Chan works little whimpers and half moans out of you.

He switches his angle, something snagging behind your navel, everything beginning to tighten. You gasp his name, and you’re answered by his too-familiar huff of a laugh again.

“What?” you demand through your own smile.

“You say my name like that again and I’m gonna bust,” he tells you seriously. Then he brings his attention back to where his fingers disappear inside you, and his gaze sharpens. “These are in my way,” he murmurs, pulling out of you and reaching for your bathing suit, which had been pushed to the side.

“Yours too, then,” you object playfully, lifting your hips for him as he slides the damp material down your legs. He smiles at you indulgently and shuffles backwards on the back, standing long enough to tug at his swim trunks, letting them drop unceremoniously before crawling back up to you, pressing his mouth to yours and cupping your jaw with one hand, like he’d missed you in the seconds he’d been gone.

“Chan,” you whisper, because you need more of him, because this isn’t enough.

He slides lower down your body, his chest brushing against yours, his lips mapping a path down your sternum, down your belly, pausing near your navel. He looks up at you, all glinty-eyed, that million-dollar smile going slightly sideways, a little mischievous.

“Can I? Please say yes,” he says in a rush, pushing his nose into your lower belly and caressing your inner thighs with his thumbs.

You lean up on your elbows so you can look at him better. Your heart hasn’t stopped racing for a minute. He’s going to give you a cardiac event. “If you want to,” you tell him.

He laughs again, so quiet. “You have no idea,” he says, shaking his head, and then he’s attaching his mouth to you and your arms give out. You eye the ceiling, a strangled moan working up your throat as Chan’s tongue delves into your heat. You squirm, trying to push him deeper. He loops his arms under your legs and then reaches over, his hands pulling you tighter against his chin, both of you working to the same goal.

You hadn’t spent a lot of time imagining how Chan might eat pussy, but you’re surprised that he dives right into fucking you on his tongue, determined and rhythmic. You’d have pegged him for the type to go slow, draw it out, tease and taste and work you up little by little. Instead he grunts in satisfaction, pulls on you hard enough that you wonder if he’ll leave little bruises from his fingertips, and spears his tongue in and out of your hole with abandon, his nose bumping your clit every few thrusts.

You’re a whimpering mess, fighting the urge to roll your hips into his face, one hand slapped over your face to muffle the sound. He shifts, lips working their way up to your desperately pulsating clit, and you feel your whole body seize with the change of sensation, a long, low groan emanating from your chest. He suctions his lips around your clit and sucks gently, then a little less gently, and your feet scrabble against the sheets, trying to find purchase.

His fingers enter you again, his spit and your wetness giving them the perfect slide, and it’s exactly the extra stimulation you need. He only has to pump his wrist twice, that delicious suction steady around your clit, before you’re grasping desperately at him - one hand sliding into his hair and the other finding his wrist and holding tight, which doesn’t stop him at all from pistoning his fingers into that spot on your front wall that has you unraveling faster than you ever have before.

“Fuck, fuck, Chan -” you gasp. Your eyes squeeze shut and your grip on him might actually be painful, a belly-deep ahhhhh ripped from you as the onslaught of sensation sends conscious thought spinning away.

“Shhh,” he soothes, fingers slowly but continuing to work you through it. You whimper, gasp for a breath, the room coming back into view. “Not so loud, baby.”

“God, Chan,” you groan, releasing your hold on him, flexing your fingers.

He grins at you, lightning quick, then kisses the inside of your thigh. “That’s my girl.”

You peer at him, boneless. “You up for more?”

He pushes himself up on his elbows, the triumph not completely melted from his face yet. “I’m up for whatever you want,” he promises. “You’re calling the shots here.”

“Excellent,” you joke. You reach towards him, barely stop yourself from making grabby hands. “Come fuck me.”

He damn near scrambles to obey. He comes up to kiss you, deep and heady, and you hook one of your legs behind him, pulling him closer. The head of his cock slides along your slit and you tilt, trying to get him where you want him.

You look up at him, feeling like he hung the stars, and whisper his name. His answer is a bite of a kiss as he pushes himself into you, stopping only when his hips are flush with yours.

“Shit, you feel so good,” he breathes, eyes closed for a second, as he holds himself over you.

“Please move,” you beg, needing more.

“God,” he groans. “Okay. Okay. I got you.”

And he does. Chan fucks like he moves - quick and precise, each motion purposeful. His eyes have narrowed with focus, brows slightly furrowed with exertion as his hips snap. He slides one hand under you to help lift you, the angle changing just slightly.

“Yeah,” you breathe, desperation lacing your voice. “There.”

The drag of him is delicious, and so is the feeling of his body under your hands, and so is the sound of his ragged breath mixed with occasional gasps and groans. It’s the fact that it’s Chan driving you even higher.

A crack of thunder sounds directly overhead, and Chan takes the moment to roll you over, laying back and letting you straddle his lap without even slipping from inside you. You whine as the new position drives him deeper than he’d been before, your hands splayed over his pecs. He’s breathing rapidly now, struggling to keep his eyes open as he continues to fuck you from below.

“I-I’m - so -” he pants, “close. Really close, baby.”

You lean down to kiss him, his arms coming up around your shoulders to pull you chest to chest until his strokes grow sloppy and his hands tighten on you. You kiss along his jaw sweetly until he releases you with a sigh. He kisses you once more before he pulls out, and then again when he returns from the bathroom with a damp cloth.

“I might need to actually shower,” you muse.

“Yeah, okay,” he says easily, nodding. “Maybe I’ll go after you. I smell like chlorine.”

You shrug. “Might as well just join me. If you want.”

He grins. He follows you into the bathroom, waits with you while the water heats up. And then he fucks you again, against the cool tiles of the shower wall.

Later, back in bed, you face each other through the dark.

“I should have said earlier,” you whisper. “But I’ve liked you for a long time, too.”

His smile makes you feel full of sunshine, even when it’s shy, even when he’s asking what you want to do about it. Especially when he’s asking you, "What are you doing next Saturday?"

Tonight, the decision to cuddle is made while you’re awake. When you wake up in the morning, sunlight streaming through the windows, Chan wastes no time in reaching between your legs, finding you ready, and rolling over top of you, pushing between your thighs before he even has his eyes all the way open.

When you both emerge from your bedroom, stomachs growling and with the beginnings of a caffeine headache, your friends are all sitting at the kitchen table, surrounded with the evidence of a breakfast come and gone. They begin a slow clap, eventually lauding you in a mostly sarcastic but still loving round of applause. 

“It’s about time,” Mingyu grouses. “You two have been circling each other forever.”

“Shh,” you tell him, as Chan slips his arm over your shoulders with a grin. “Not so loud.”

thank you for reading!!! <3

[evilminji]

Okay, so maybe it's just me? Projecting my new Tea Phase?

Cause for med reasons, no more energy drinks, only Teeeeeeaaaaa~☆

But honestly? Now that I am an adult and ACTUALLY KNOW HOW TO MAKE IT? Really digging it! Am enjoying the Teas. Mmmmmmm~ leaf broth. I like the fruity ones.

So! IMAGINE~☆ If you will:

Danny. 14 and his parents are LOUD AS FUCK (CRASH BANG SMASH BANG WHIIII-) dispite it being, once again, a school night. This has been going one For Years. That STUPID fucking machine. All God damned hours. Crashes and bangs and powertools. Explosions.

When will it ever end!

He's... he's honestly used it.

Unknowingly? This is is a skill that will come in handy later. Living and functioning while sleep deprived. Healthy? Fuck no. But it's USEFUL. He IS the ten year old downing Monster drinks in the parking lot before school.

It makes him a jittery weirdo. Twitchy. Too much caffeine, not enough sleep, his parents either blew up or TOOK APART the washing machine AGAIN. He... he never stood a chance. It's a miracle the indoor plumbing hasn't been compromised yet... AGAIN.

His blood is more sugar, caffeine, and guarana or whatever those other things in the can are, then actual human blood. He doesn't CARE. He just needs too get decent grades, graduate, and become an astronaut. It's... it's FINE. This is normal. They're FINE.

(If they weren't... someone would have noticed, right? Would have DONE something. Cared. So it HAS to be fine. His family's just weird. It's FINE.)

But THEN...

The Accident.

And his biology CHANGES. Green goo, wrapped vicious and loving, around his very DNA. Like Kintsugi of the body and soul. In green, Green, GREEN. It... it's a lot. Everything changing all at once. Maybe that's why it takes him so long to notice.

Why he thinks "oh, I'm just tired cause I'm running more then usual. Fighting and flying. Doing ghost stuff."

When... when honestly? Some part of him always kinda KNEW. From the very moment he stumbled out of the portal. The aftershocks. The pain. Sam and Tucker crying, scrambling to help him up the stairs. Sam tearing her bag apart looking for her cramps medicine. Because... because pain medication is pain medication.

"It's gonna be okay, Danny. Please. Please god, just take it! I promise it's gonna be okay!"

How do you look your panicked, crying, strongest-person-you-know best friend in the eyes and tell her... you can FEEL it dissolving in your throat. Like the pills were dumped in a human shaped pot of acid. That... that the pain isn't changing... and you... you don't think it's going too.

When you're scared. Might be dying. And you can already tell they think it's their fault. W... when you're all just KIDS. And all you can think is... you can let them know how bad... how bad it hurts...

They'd never be able to live with that knowledge.

Yeah. Yeah, Sam. Thanks. T... The pills helped a lot. He feels better. You really saved the day. He lo... loves you guys so much.

...

.....

He thinks about that moment A LOT. About how much he realized and knew, before the denial kicked in. Before he got so... Tired. Fresh of all that energy. And? You'd think he realize. The mood swings. The irritability. The headaches that disappear the SECOND he goes ghost. That he's in caffeine withdrawal. But? Nope.

He kinda blames the constant ghost attacks for distracting him.

But see... Sam? Doesn't drink tea. Goes against her diet. Tucker was where he GOT his illicit borderline illegal energy drinks. And his sister? Big on flavored sparkling waters. Which are gross to him.

His PARENTS drink a thick tar they insist is coffee. It might be liquid fudge. Zone knows its nearly the same consistency. It's horrifying. No thanks, he wants to LIVE.

It's? Ironically? Mr. Lancer and his constant detentions, that help Danny realize somethings up. Because Mr. Lancer shares. If he makes a cup for himself, he'll make one for you. It's how he was raised. And, yeah, the after school detentions? Those were herbal blends. No caffeine.

But...

But they tasted nice. Were warm. The classroom was quiet and as frustrating as it was? The tea itself? Was always... the one exception to how shit the situation was. So Danny finally broke down and asked about it. Learned Mr. Lancer knew a? Surprisingly LOT about tea. Huh.

Then one day he gets SATURDAY detention. Oh joy!

Bright and early. One of the few times he could be trying, desperately, to be sleeping through his parents cacophony. Catching up on his desperately needed Zzz's. Here he is... getting a handed a new cup of different tea?

Breakfast blend? And a bagel..

N...none hostile breakfast? A quiet space to catch up on his homework? No Dash? Just... just a quiet classroom, some tea, and the sounds on a peaceful morning outside?

......oh.

It's the best time he's had in school in... God, in YEARS. He gets so MUCH done. For once can concentrate. And? Actually, now that he thinks about it? Feels... awake? Or at the very least, not as sleepy. And being a Fenton, whom to the LAST are a genius if eccentric family, it's pretty damn easy to put two and two together.

Tea.

He felt more awake after having Lancer's breakfast blend tea.

He obviously asks about it. Then, after detention is done. Calm packs up. Goes home. Drops his back in his room. Goes ghost. And SHOOTS for the Far Frozen with his phone and an energy drink. Because clearly he's missing something and it's time to ask.

The good doctors of the Frozen are... gently horrified. Clawed hands steeples infront of their mouths as they try to tactfully figure out how to word "Great One, WHAT THE FUCK!?!? Why would you DO THIS TO YOURSELF!?" Because that... is not professional. Breathe. In, out, in, out. We can do this.

They get the most patient and restrained of their elders to... CALMLY, very VERY Calmly, ask some medical questions. Listen. Without judgements! Because they are medical professionals. Who do NOT want to scream, forever, into the void. Certainly not. So Calm! (They are going to BURN THAT CAN IN-)

Which! Huh. Yeah, that explains the constant exhaustion. He was poisoning himself. Kinda. Not so much the GHOST but the human half. Putting to much strain and too much trace chemicals, minerals, and buckets of sugar. General "mmmm :/ Don't Like THAT ™" energy from the Goo causing it too try and constantly burning it all out of existence. Endlessly.

The more he put in, the more there was to burn. The more there was to burn, the more tired he became. The more tired he became... well, the more he put in. It was a slowly lethal starvation cycle. Big Yikes.

The TEA on the other hand? Those are leaves. The good recognizes leaves and water. Other various plants, dried or otherwise. It ignores them as "fine" until they reach a "problematic" threshold, apparently? So... *blank look at the doctor*

*sighs in medical professional*

Tea? Good. Satan Can of Halfa Poison? Bad. Please drink tea.

👍🏻👍🏻👍🏻

And it's like MAGIC. He's suddenly BACK, baby! Ha ha ha! Skulker you fuckin THOUGHT?! Oh it's 2am? Well SUPRISE bitch! He's bright eyed and bushy tailed! His grades are up AND he's beating you like a drum! He has ice breakers for old people discussions now!! The local Tea Shops have NEVER been so well protected.

He actually manages to graduate with not just decent grades? But GOOD ones.

And the second. The INSTANT. He is legally his own man? Has his important paperwork squirrelled away and the go bags safely WELL outside of Amity. It's time. He meets OUTSIDE the house, because he's not an idiot. He's been practicing his Clones and has them ready to grab his parents so he can get out of there alive. Jazz is on video call from Star city.

His parents... suspected. Not at first, but as goofy as they are? They aren't ACTUALLY idiots. They've been watching, going over old research. Trying, failing, to get in touch with the League to have THEIR team test their research. Peer review is critical after all. They... they had been so certain. Are still somewhat certain.

But their research doesn't exactly ACCOUNT for this "halfa" phenomenon. So, there is a very real chance they are missing something. The one thing the DO know? Danny is their son. Stuck in some eternal mortally wounded state or not, he is a hero. And they weren't there for him.

They can't change their beliefs on a dime. But they've clearly missed a great deal. And refuse to fall to academic bias. The very thing that got them LAUGHED AT for decades. Mocked and belittled. This is their life's work. By God they WILL find out the truth.

It's? Better then he could have hoped. Not perfect. But better.

He helps set up safeties and a security check point at the portal. Both sides. He's kinda a big deal these days, mom, dad. Ghost scientists eager to work with them. A whole TEAM under their command. It certain endears ghosts to them a whole lot more. Then?

Copy of the blue prints, go bag turned into normal bags, Danny's off to college.

Bounces from major to major. Nothing really capturing his interest. As he aged, he's need less sleep. Gotten stronger. Grown into his father's height and grandfathers build. Tucker keeps calling him a dorito. Danny retaliates with Ancient Egyptian Cyber/Pharoah Twink allegations. According to SAM they are both dumbasses.

She's not WRONG... but hey D:<

Eventually? A really niche botany seminar run by Pamela Isely catches the attention of Tucker, who forwards it to him n Sam. Nice ™. It's being held in her Murder Park! Cool! Obviously they have to go. So off to Gotham they go. And? When they get there? Sam is APPALLED.

She may HATE landlords as much as the next activist.... but LOOK at all these run down, foreclosed, rotting buildings! Beautiful gothic infrastructure! Those could be businesses or homes! Danny, busy with signing them up, makes the mistake of tuning her out as she rants in fury. She does this some times. Needs to vent. Uh huh, you're very right. You should contact somebody. I agree. Mmmhmmm.

Hey, Sam, Ms. Isely needs your-....

Sam?

Oh FUCK ™.

By the time the Seminar come around? Sam has violently kicked in the door of more then a feel reality offices. Owns QUITE a few buildings. Danny is sweating. She... she's doing the THING again. The "gimme your Ghost Crew, I KNOW you have a highly specific Ghost Crew, don't you DARE lie to me or I take your knee caps, Danny" stare.

>.> Sam you can't keep doin- *stare intensifies* Yes Ma'am. *Pulls out Fenton phone* and so? Here come the renovation crew. The ONLY honest building Crew in all of Gotham. They cut no corners. Can't be threatened. Gangs, villians, and even local government office try to arrange... accidents on the build sites.

Nothing. Nada. In fact, it turns out more dangerous for THEM then this crew of outsiders!

Wtf!

Then? After these two College age weirdos finish Poison Fuckin Ivys HIGHLY SUSPECT biology seminar? Manson fucks off to who knows where! Leaving what HAS to be "the muscle" behind. Cause I mean? Look, at the guy! He's huge! And what does he do?

Goes building to building. Rents them out to low income families. Honest, hard working shop keepers. And? Eventually decides to settle smack dab in the middle of Gotham, in the shadow of Wayne fuckin tower, spitting distance from the Space museum..... and open? A tea shop? The FUCK?

"The Zone".

In a weird shade of green. With little ghosts, wearing crowns, because and I quote "it's funny"? Certainly crazy enough for Gotham. But like, it's loud as FUCK here. Crowded. There are gas attacks and shit. It'll never las-....

It stays untouched for MONTHS.

Sometimes being the ONLY building near it to be untouched. Gas NEVER getting in. The damn place a BUNKER. And? Despite looking like it's two floors? It's three. You enter and your actually on the second floor. No one's even sure where the fuck the guy LIVES, since he never seems to leave.

Not only THAT. But it... it's like one of those old school apothecaries. Big ol bank of drawers. Guy'll mix up your blend for you right as you watch. Tea nuts are actually risking COMING to Gotham to try his stuff. Writing articles. Apparently he has some pretty rare shit in those drawers.

Some UNKNOWN shit, according to one guy on ViewTube.

There's this whole debate on if it's Ultra Super Rare or that means it's just super cheap knock off crap. Some of them he won't make for people, even if they ask. There's a rumor it's for Meta's with specific diets. Or alien blends. But no one can verify that. Cause like?

Anyone who tries to cause trouble?

Can't fucking FIND the place. And if you're already inside? You just... drop. Stone cold unconscious. It's definitely magic but no one knows if it's HIS or Manson's? You know? He won't talk. Gets annoyed when harrased.

Which off course!

Leaves Only ONE gentleman for the job. An elite special forces trained expert. Polite, dignified, enjoyer of fine Teas. Alfred "Why do you chucklefucks keep forgetting I was in the Queens Service and a Registered Badass" Pennyworth.

After all! He DOES have the days shopping to do.

@babbling-babull @the-witchhunter @hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @lolottes

[vaguely-concerned]

for what it's worth I personally don't believe spite had anything to do with the pantry near-kiss experience at all. I think that was a 100% lucanis naturel disaster no supernatural additives present or indeed required. at most spite was watching that whole situation go down with mild puzzlement about approximately every part of it, I don't think he'd have much interest in it one way or the other. the explanation seems much more mundane and grounded and in some ways much sadder to me.

if your nervous system has never been in a place where any surge of emotion, even -- in fact sometimes especially! -- a good and exciting one makes you feel like your soul just touched a hot stove it can't get away from, then sincerely, from the bottom of my heart and without a trace of snark, thank goodness and I hope you never experience it. For the rest of you... fistbump of solidarity it's rough out here but *grits teeth* we stay silly etc. In the place lucanis is in during that part of the game, feeling like you're losing control (again even for ostensibly good happy reasons) can feel an awful lot like you're dying, or worse. on top of everything else going on for him -- again going only with non-supernatural elements and not even comprehensive: a year of non-stop horrific trauma added to pile of previous mountain of childhood and attachment trauma. chronic sleep deprivation. apparently dead grandma doubling as mother figure. cousin-brother aggressively fucking around and in real danger of finding out. fucked up the ONE thing he thought he knew how to do that's been the central pillar of his identity. the world might be ending even more than it already was because of it. keeps faceplanting with barely any dignity and having to get up again with alarming regularity GOD how could I ever not save treviso this man desperately needs a W (just one!!) like few people in the history of the world have before him. he's more caffeine than man because the alternative feels worse. it's bad in here. and ON TOP of all that he's in the process of falling just. appallingly soul-shrivingly in love, which can notably be playing on hard mode even when you're in a mostly functional place, that shit routinely rocks people to the core under the best of circumstances.

so I'm not surprised it's too overwhelming for him to handle when he tries to throw himself in head first -- in fact I'd have been more surprised if it weren't lol. he clearly wants it so much, which only makes it so much more painful that he can't actually bear to touch it when it's offered to him freely and eagerly. this is the tantalus-level awfulness of this kind of attachment trauma; food seems to be right there, you can see it, almost smell it sometimes, but no matter what you just can't seem to reach it. seemingly not for any flaw in the existence of the food, but because of something broken in you that can't or can't bear to actually eat. his deliberate flirting routine is kind of deeply dorky tbh lol (in the most endearing way possible let's be perfectly clear) and I don't think it's entirely natural to him -- that's a hastily cobbled together 'oh god I am getting the vibes here it is happening for some reason they like me for my personality quick what would illario do' approach if ever I saw it, supported by the fact that it never really makes a return after this --

BUT I do think his obvious near-unbearable delight with rook's existence and person that shines through in that scene is entirely real and unfeigned. he likes them so much. he wants so bad to be able to be close to them. he's so hungry for the reprieve and release and relief they represent to him, just for one moment, just one break from all the awfulness to have something uncomplicatedly good. and it's here, it's been offered, he's welcome!!! and he has to flinch away at the last minute anyway because he's an exposed nerve of a human being. there's a point at which every sensation including joy becomes indistinguishable from agony. he's pretty much exactly at that point. for the love of god have some mercy on him people. the feeling that salvation is right here but you're too broken a vessel to hold it is one I wouldn't wish on anyone. let him have a few moments to stare into the void before he's ready to get back up and try again surely we all deserve at least that much lol

[flamingtouya]

𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐩 (𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐞) —

pairing: dabi + f!reader

word count: 4381

cw: getting to know each other (against your better intuition), flirting, bad flirting,some explicit language but nothing too bad, no quirk AU, dabi commits a crime or two

summary: In which Dabi meant to text Toga instead of a random stranger. But these things happen, and you were never one to shy away from troublesome men. This whole thing is told entirely through text messages.

a/n: check out my AO3 for different formatting! :)

Mar 02  10:07 PM

Unknown: Grab bleach while you’re out Unknown: And paper towels

You: who is this??

Unknown: So funny

You: u got the wrong number my guy 

Unknown: Shit Unknown: You don’t happen to have some bleach at your disposal rn? 

You: try the convenience store You: where’s the body at, anyways

Unknown: Ohara street by the fitness park, you should come check it out

You: sounds enticing You: i’ve always wanted to be on a true crime podcast

You: sort of expected myself to be the alive one though

Unknown: I was taught that women tend to be smart about stranger danger and stuff Unknown: You're out to prove me wrong

You: how’d you know i’m a woman? 🤨

Unknown: U sound cute Unknown: And men don’t listen to true crime

You: that’s so sexist You: and correct You: you'd do numbers on reddit

Mar 03 00:16 AM

You: hey don’t leave now

Mar 03 00:34 AM

Unknown: Had a body to take care of

You: you didn’t wait for me? :(

Unknown: … Unknown: Are u fr

You: ofc not You: i don’t hang out with edgelords

Unknown: Whatever u r probably boring anyways

You: entertaining enough for u to keep texting me

Unknown: We all have our moments of weakness 

Mar 03 01:09 AM

Unknown: So wyd

You: you don’t have anybody else to bother?

Unknown: I do Unknown: I want to bother you tho

You: damn, what’d i do to deserve this

Unknown: Is that a complaint

You: i have uni tomorrow and ur buzzing keeps waking me up

Unknown: Mute your phone, stupid 

You: can’t mute unknown numbers

Unknown: Save this one then Unknown: Or block me idc

You: what name should i put it under

Unknown: Dabi 

You: lmao i knew you were an edgelord

Dabi: Stfu

You: good night to you too

Mar 03  07:58 AM

You: fuck

Mar 03 3:56 PM

Dabi: Did you miss me that bad 

Mar 03 4:32 PM

You: i overslept and am blaming you entirely

Mar 03 5:19 PM 

Dabi: Sucks to be a useful member to society

You: why what do you do

Dabi: I'm actually a bit of a part-time freelancer, you regular uni folk just wouldn't get it

You: freelancing around ohara at 1 in the morning sounds like the truly fulfilling purpose we all long for You: did you just get up

Dabi: Hey now  Dabi: Yes  Dabi: I’m still in bed technically, looking at the ceiling fan is so interesting when I don't want to move a muscle

You: you are everything I am jealous of

Dabi: I promise you it’s not that good 

You: first time a guy’s been honest right away. i applaud u

Dabi: Omg no way 

Mar 03 5:40 PM

You: no way what

Dabi: No way you said something witty 

Dabi: Maybe you’re fun after all

You: i’ll have u know that deep down, i’m just a fragile being trying to make it thru this bitch of a world, running on fumes and caffeine all while chasing a childhood dream that i'll never be able to reach anyways because of my parents' expectations of me crushing my soul

Dabi: Damn, being vulnerable already 

You: your turn

Dabi: I’m not sad. My life is great and my parents never expected anything of me

Dabi: That was a lie 

You: so you’re a liar

Dabi: I suppose I might be

You: that counts as being vulnerable. i’m so proud of us. &lt;3

Mar 03 9:12 PM

You: you probably have daddy issues

Mar 03 11:34 PM 

Dabi: Mind your business 

You: so i’m right

Dabi: Nosy sounds more like it

You: that’s a yes then

Dabi: When I tell you he SUCKS so bad 

You: LMAO You: i’m guessing you don’t particularly like your family then

Dabi: It's not the type of stuff I'd tell anybody, especially not to some nosy individual whose number is one or two digits off

You: alright i’ll stop digging You: wait how old are you You: am i talking to some 50 y/o dude You: please no

Mar 04 00:02 AM

Dabi: Chill I’m 48

Mar 04 00:06 AM 

You: say sike right now You: if u rly are then i’m half your age

Dabi: You thought Dabi: Are you actually 24 tho

You: give or take a few days lol

Dabi: When’s your birthday 

You: do you want my social and tax numbers while we’re at it

Dabi: Stfu I wanna see if I’m older 

You: 🤨 You: it’s at the end of this month

Dabi: Baby 

You: are u flirting with me or insulting me

Dabi: Can’t I be doing both 

Mar 04 06:30 AM

You: love me a guy who can multitask You: did you ever get your bleach and paper towels

Mar 04 11:11 AM

You: it’s 11:11 make a wish

Mar 04 2:02 PM

You: my wish is that you’d commit to a humane sleeping schedule

Mar 04 2:59 PM 

Dabi: Anybody hear sum 

You: i heard you’re a lazy bitch You: who doesn’t even do his own grocery shopping

Dabi: Maybe I do. Maybe I got the bleach all on my own like a big boy

You: X

Dabi: What's that mean

You: X for doubt You: it’s a meme

Dabi: Here I thought we were about to get spicy 😔

You: ew

Dabi: I was joking  Dabi: …unless 

You: has anybody ever told you that your flirting is immaculate

Mar 04 7:10 PM

Dabi: What do you study 

You: are you trying to find out my location

Dabi: Let it be known I’m terrible at geography and if I wanted to stalk you I'd already be on it

You: that’s a consolation You: forensic science You: i actually can’t wait for the semester to be over bc my professor is one of the most annoying individuals i have ever had the displeasure of meeting

Dabi: So you do have bleach 

You: never said i didn’t

Dabi: What do I have to do to make the list of annoying individuals. What's my current score

You: we haven’t met You: and i’m not sure if i’d survive u

Dabi: You have a point, I'm super nice tho

You: bet You: are you handsome You: asking for a friend You: the handsome ones are usually more annoying

Dabi: I'll say I’m frighteningly unique-looking 

You: ...well played

Mar 04 10:09 PM 

Dabi: My boss is making me do errand work in the morning like I'm some kind of functioning human being with principles Dabi: The next piercing I’m getting is a lobotomy 

You: thought you were “freelancing”

Dabi: Freelancing only gets you so far. You'll understand when you're my age

You: can't imagine what the back pain must be like You: do you have a tongue piercing 👀

Dabi: Perhaps I do

You: u r so mysterious You: tell me an opinion 

Dabi: Mint ice cream makes my teeth feel weird 

You: that’s not an opinion 

Dabi: Alright, more foods should have mint in them. And coriander. I want to make things inedible for 80% of the human population

You: nvm keep your opinions to yourself 

Mar 05 02:26 AM

Dabi: I've gotta burn this number. Txt u in a few 

Mar 05 05:16 AM

You: what are you, some kind of druglord This message could not be delivered.

You: I knew it This message could not be delivered.

Mar 0512:03 PM

You: ayo are you still there This message could not be delivered.

You: this is only funny if you come clean right now This message could not be delivered.

Mar 05 4:16 PM

You: "text you in a few" minutes? hours? days? This message could not be delivered.

You: just know that if it takes to long i'll forget about u This message could not be delivered.

You: won't even miss u This message could not be delivered.

Mar 06 09:00 AM

You: hello is this thing on This message could not be delivered.

Mar 07 3:15 PM

You: my social security number is 6007 0023 6799 0324 This message could not be delivered.

Mar 07 8:46 PM

You: eggs, vinegar, panko, sprite, sliced ham, parmesan, deodorant sencha if they have the good one ground pepper, lemon juice This message could not be delivered.

Mar 08 04:44 AM

Unknown: Am I still the man of ur dreams

You: I'm killing you You: violently

Unknown: I was hoping softly Unknown: With your song

You: are these messages being monitored You: am i a suspect

Unknown: If they were, could I write that I'm a ruthless baby killer anti-government fuck the police pro abortion the prime minister is an idiot bomb. bomb at the airport, terrorism, detonate Unknown: I guess now they are

Dabi was added as a contact.

You: just when i thought i'd have to find another witty asshole with a tongue piercing

Dabi: Aw you missed me Dabi: Does my tongue piercing make me hot be honest

You: what are my chances of getting an explanation for the past few days You: are u a murderer fr, that would be so cool You: i totally didn't use our abandoned chat as a grocery list btw

Dabi: The only thing I slay is pussy 😎

You: somehow i have doubts about that statement You: animal abuse is no joke

Dabi: I'm thinking of a number between 1 and 100, if you guess it correctly I'll tell u everything

You: 69

Mar 08 08:21 AM

Dabi: It was 72 Dabi: Because you were so close I'll give u one free question. But I want another one in return

You: you're a dirty little gremlin who plays dirty little games You:: do i get to ask a follow-up question

Dabi: No

You: in that case You: which of the following activities did you partake in? 1.) vandalism 2.) drug dealing 3.) drug trafficking 4.) violent crimes 5.) violent crimes that resulted in the death of one or more individuals 6.) assisting someone in a violent crime 7.) assisting someone in a non-violent crime 8.) theft 9.) robbery 10.) hate crimes against a minority 11.) politically motivated acts of defiance 12.) consumption of illegal substances 13.) running and/or hiding from law enforcement 14.) domestic terrorism 15.) human trafficking 16.) money laundering 17.) having a good time

Dabi: What the fuck Dabi: What is this, a multiple choice? Dabi: 1, 4, 6, 7, 8, 13 Dabi: My turn Dabi: What's your favourite food

You: fr, just like that You: that's your one question out of everything you could ask? am i really that boring

Dabi: I ask what I ask

You: spicy miso ramen with minced pork You: can we go back to the part where you ran from law enforcement

Dabi: Don't we all have demons that we run from Dabi: Mine are just a bit more persistent

Mar 08 10:52 AM

You: i want another question

Dabi: If you come up with one that's not related to the past few days, go ahead

You: fine i'll take it You: have you ever been caught and gotten in legal trouble for one of your… dubious activities

Dabi: Yeah

You: …and?

Dabi: That's another question. Gonna trade?

You: fine

Dabi: When I was 16, two Officers Of The Law 🐷 caught me dumpster diving behind a 7/11 Dabi: The dumpster diving wasn't the crime but because it was on private property they charged me with trespassing

You: damn, that's a lot of truth from u in just two sentences You: i wanna know ur tragic backstory so bad

Dabi: You could try to get me all sentimental for the 6 minutes after really good sex before the post nut clarity sets in

You: uh huh, taking notes You: anyway. you get one question. think hard

Dabi: If you couldn't have minced pork on your ramen, what would your second topping choice be

You: you're impossible

Mar 08 1:27 PM

You: tori karaage or extra ni-tamago i guess

Mar 08 2:23 PM

Dabi: Doesn't the Karaage lose its crispiness if it's in the broth for too long Dabi: I wouldn't know

You: please let me recommend you a good ramen place, you seem like you'd need it

Dabi: You have no idea. Take me out

You: like romantically? or are you asking me to murder you

Dabi: I love surprises

You: i just laughed out loud in the middle of my lecture

Mar 08 7:18 PM

Dabi: Need your forensic expertise for a sec

You: …oh no

Dabi: It's a purely hypothetical scenario

You: alright lay it on me big boy

Dabi: If a 176 cm tall and 67 kg heavy person were to climb over a 4,60 meter high fence that has electrical wiring on it Dabi: What would the most likely way for them to die be?

You: this is not forensic at all You: how strong is the electricity You: is there a way to shut it off You: where would you hold onto the fence You: can it be damaged

Dabi: Not me, a 176 cm tall and 67 kg heavy person

You: where would THE 176 CM TALL AND 67 KG HEAVY PERSON HOLD ONTO THE FENCE

Dabi: The only points that provide decent grip surface are the hooks holding the wires in place

You: so the most likely way to die would be electrocution You: will that be all

Dabi: How would one determine whether the electricity has been properly shut off Dabi: In the theoretical scenario that you couldn't get close enough to hear

You: the 176 cm tall and 67 kg heavy person should tap the wiring from the bottom with the back of their hand You: that way their fingers curl downwards and not around the wire You: so the person won't DIE from ELECTROCUTION

Mar 09 00:08 AM

Dabi: Excellent Dabi: Gonna do some field research Dabi: Will report back in maybe a day

Mar 09 08:01 AM

You: i'm gonna be so mad if you die before you've had decent karaage This message could not be delivered.

Mar 11 6:10 PM

Unknown: So it turns out that the person did not have to climb the fence after all. Pliers are such useful tools Unknown: Thanks for the electricity tip tho

Mar 11 6:39 PM

Dabi was added as a contact.

You: you're so hot when you're alive 

Mar 11 9:14 PM

Dabi: Do u think I'm a catch 😏

You: judging by the way law enforcement is trying to get their hands on you, i'd say you're pretty slippery

Dabi: The slipperiest Dabi: You couldn't handle me

You: i'd trap you using cheese and a paper box  You: put you in a jar and turn you into spicy miso broth 

Dabi: Would you hold the jar tight at night and tell me everything's going to be okay 

You: of course 

Dabi: I'm liking this scenario 

Mar 12 01:07 AM 

Dabi: Ever thought about what Mint Karaage would taste like

Mar 12 01:23 AM

You: i need u 

Dabi: Tell me more

You: to shut your mouth

Dabi: Are you trying to romance me

Mar 12 07:15 AM

You: i'm actually so upset right now  You: can i vent

Mar 12 07:27 AM

Dabi: Listening Dabi: Am I gonna have to get the tissues out

You: you're not empathetic enough for that 

Dabi: How would you know 

You: call it a woman's intuition  You: i just need someone to bother about my hot girl troubles

Dabi: Let's hear it girl  Dabi: Men ain't shit 💅

You: damn right they aren't You: but unrelated to that You: i ran out of my medication a few days ago and thought if i stretched the remaining 3 pills to last me 6 days i'd be able to make it till the end of the week  You: now my doctor's office is closed and i can't seem to get an appointment anywhere You: and i'm super jittery and on edge and almost had a panic attack just trying to make coffee

Dabi: What type of medication 

You: Ativan You: it's prescription only

Dabi: Nothing is ever "prescription only" 

You: i'm not gonna try some experimential backalley drug You: just feel like dying rn

Dabi: Who said anything about backalley? You actually came to the right guy for this  Dabi: What's the name of the nearest druggery 

You: ...fukuju pharmacy

Dabi: So I've been talking to a Setagaya girl 

You: only moved here for uni, hate to disappoint if ur expecting a wealthy maiden 

Mar 12 10:02 AM

Dabi: Don't you feel like getting a snack from the vending machine  Dabi: Specifically the one next to the pharmacy  Dabi: A bag of skittles sounds nice, doesn't it?

You: ? ? ?

Mar 12 10:34 AM 

You: did you commit a crime for me  You: how did you get your hands on actual fucking Ativan this fast

Dabi: I don't kiss and tell

You: did you follow me home  You: is this how i die

Dabi: You make it so hard to be nice to you Dabi: What do you think I am, a creep

You: if you were here i'd suck you off so good rn

Dabi: Whore Dabi: (Respectfully)

You: lmao ur right You: thank you for real though

Dabi: Stfu

Mar 12 1:33 PM

Dabi: Do u like cats

You: yes

Dabi sent an image.

Dabi: Noodle thieving menace 

You: 🥹 You: that has got to be the fattest street cat i’ve ever seen

Dabi: He’s hella fast 

You: how does it feel to be the one chasing the culprit for once

Dabi: Not nearly as thrilling as being the one committing the crime 

Mar 13 00:00 AM

Unknown: Congratulations! You have been selected as an eligible member for a free trial of Osaka Daily Post. Unknown: If you would like information about your benefits, reply 'BENEFIT' Unknown: If you would like to stop receiving these messages, reply 'STOP' 

You: i know it's you shithead

Unknown: Your message could not be processed. 

You: this is the unfunniest you've ever been ngl

Unknown: Your message could not be processed. 

You: you're truly one of the most annoying individuals in my life

Unknown: Your message could not be processed. 

You: STOP

Unknown: LMAO you thought

Dabi was saved as a contact. 

You: i'm reconsidering if the tongue piercing is really worth it 😤

Mar 13 04:55 AM

Dabi: Any particular reason why you chose forensics 

Mar 13 06:09 AM

You: i've always admired criminals but been to scared to become one You: and if i know about psychotic assholes it might help me to steer clear of them, or so i thought

Dabi: Is it working

You: evidently not

Dabi: Use me in ur thesis  Dabi: I'll be your lab rat

You: nah you're more beneficial to me when you're not stuck behind bars You: what do you have me saved as in your phone

Dabi: I don't save contacts  Dabi: Especially not yours  Dabi: You mean nothing to me 

You: aww do you know my number by heart, that's adorable You: i'm kinda genuinely impressed at how persistent you are at bothering me, it's almost like you like me or smth

Dabi: No fr though lmao if anybody finds my phone you'd be on a list

You: do u delete these chats

Dabi: Always

You: that's so romantic You: admit it you're actually a softie

Dabi: Would that make you more interested in me  Dabi: Then I'm the softest 

You: what do i need to do to make you the hardest

Dabi: ... Dabi: There's absolutely no correct way for me to respond to that  Dabi: You've left me speechless 

You: 🥵🥵

Dabi: What's your worst quality  Dabi: Besides being an irresistible smartass  Dabi: *irritating 

You: was that a freudian slip You: you're so obsessed with me it's adorable

Dabi: Proving my point so diligently 

You: you don't seem like the kind of person who would use words like 'diligently' You: i'm rather talkative at times You: to the point where it gets unbearable to listen to me

Dabi: I never would've guessed

You: what's yours? You: besides the obvious

Dabi: Still putting up with you 

Mar 13 7:45 PM

Dabi: Wyd 

You: i burned my rice a little You: but it's edible

Dabi: Don't you have a rice cooker? Who raised you 

You: my very strict but sweet and committed grandmother who made the best teriyaki salmon in the whole world You: i'd kill another human being to eat her home cooked food one more time

Dabi: So your parents ain't shit either 

You: eh, they're alright You: they're Business People overseas and aren't around a whole lot, means i get my own place though You: so i can have visitors at any desired hour 😏

Dabi: Omg sick Dabi: Me next

You: it was implied

Mar 13 11:11 PM

Dabi: Ok but do u actually wanna meet up sometime  Dabi: No strings attached ofc 

You: i'm down

Dabi: What if I'm a creep after all

You: if anything, it means i won't have to attend my lecture about carbon dots tmrw

Dabi: I can't tomorrow  Dabi: What about the day after Dabi: I'll give u my credit card info if it makes you feel more safe, don't bother trying to buy anything with it tho, you'll be disappointed

You: you may not show it a whole lot, but are you actually a considerate person? You: the day after sounds good

Dabi: Preem

You: oreryu shio ramen, right by harajuku station You: about time you had some good karaage You: my treat You: unless that's too far away for u

Dabi: I would fly across the world for u Dabi: Yes Harajuku works fine

Mar 14 08:49 AM

You: how will i recognise u You: what do u look like

Dabi: As my dad once said. I'm impossible to miss 

You: i laughed

Dabi: Guess it was all worth it then  Dabi: Do tattoos scare you

You: i was gonna ask cause there's no way you got only a tongue piercing and nothing else You: stand there with your tongue out

Dabi: Shouldn't we at least get to know each other before 😳

You: don't get any ideas  You: i don't intend to fuck u You: ...for now

Dabi: That's a relief, I thought I might have to file a restraining order afterwards 

Mar 14 1:42 PM 

Dabi sent an image. 

Dabi: If u see this guy u can still run the other way 

You: hhh fuck You: are u trying to intimidate me You: how do you have so many tattoos but no bedframe

Dabi: Cut me some slack, I just moved into this place 

You: fair warning i'm not as hot as u

Dabi: Bet 

You sent an image. 

Dabi: Why do women always lie. I thought you were better. I thought you were different

You: 😳 You: i'm actually worse

Dabi: We're such a good match

You: don't get ahead of urself. u r still a guy with no bedframe

Dabi: Please shut up

Mar 14 4:16 PM

Dabi: To be clear I'm not bringing flowers or anything  Dabi: And I'm actually willing to let you pay this time lol 

You: you have such a unique way with words 

Dabi: A bit tight on money rn but I'll pay u back some other way 

You: can we make that the first line in our sextape  You: dw i said it's my treat and i mean it You: does that make you feel emasculated

Dabi: Who would I be to say no to free food tf Dabi: If there's a next time I can take you out for drinks  Dabi: Nothing fancy but an old friend of mine owns a bar downtown and his girlfriend mixes a killer mule 

You: if you're gonna poison me after gaining my trust over my favourite food i will be incredibly sad 

Dabi: Give me some credit here. I'm trusting u to not rat me out to law enforcement 

You: you're giving me ideas You: is there a bounty on your head

Dabi: I'm not that important 

Mar 14 9:44 PM

You: so you're just too good to get caught

Dabi: Both flattering and factually correct Dabi: For the record I've never harmed anybody that didn't deserve it 

You: thanks for clarifying  You: i feel so safe now 

Dabi: Anytime  Dabi: If you're having second thoughts lmk before 10 am so I won't spend time getting ready for nothing 

You: 10 am is crazy  You: u r so vain 

Dabi: Alright then I won't 😔

You: i take it back You: be pretty for me

Mar 15 5:30 AM

You: can't sleep 

Mar 15 7:12 AM

Dabi: How the turntables  Dabi: Are you alright

You: yes  You: it's the good kind of sleepless 

Dabi: It's fine if you're having second thoughts, I won't hold it against you at all  Dabi: Just texting like this is nice too

You: fuck no i wanna meet the man behind the screen You: the myth, the legend, the crimelord himself 

Dabi: I'm never showing consideration for ur wellbeing ever again 

You: should've ghosted me before i got attached

Mar 15 9:54 AM

Dabi: Last chance to bail gracefully  

You: you make it so tempting 

Dabi: Getting out of bed then 

You: it's not a bed if it doesn't have a bedframe

Dabi: Shut, and I mean this in the gentlest way possible, the hell your mouth

Mar 15 12:08 PM

Dabi sent a location pin.

Dabi: Is this the place

You: that's the one  You: be there in a few minutes 

Dabi: I'm waiting outside 

Mar 15 12:13 PM

You: omg i think i see u You: im shy

Dabi: U literally have so much blackmail material on me 

You: give me a second You: alright I'm coming over This message could not be delivered.

[morguecuts]

Love Laced Caffeine

five hargreeves x fem!reader synopsis: lovey dovey morning with five :)  word count: 1.1k tags: lots of fluff and cute moments  authors note: i love adding pre-story lore, but if im too detailed pls yell at me, okay thx enjoy! dedication: my bestfriend @solspina who sits with me everynight as i write. i love you forever. check out her work if you enjoy warhammer, the stories are absolutely incredible.

♱⛧ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨ ୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆⛧♱

the constant impending apocalypse is no longer a worry ever since the world was saved. special abilities have only ever been used in a joking, or more importantly an emergency manner, since then. you met the umbrella academy in 2019 but are now 3 years deep into a very loving and committed relationship with arguably the grumpiest family member, five hargreeves. 

he was surprisingly the sweetest person you’ve ever met. the overprotective nature of his actions was incredibly attractive. his words were only ever gentle towards you, a walking example of hating everybody who wasn't his lover. his “old soul” showed itself in the way that he treated the relationship with you. 

he constantly took you on dates, sometimes small, like watching a movie at the nearby theater, or larger, like trips across the world to go sightseeing. five bought you a multitude of gifts since you’ve been together as well. the most cherishable was the silver chain that dangled from your neck, symbolizing the first time he admitted he was in love with you. ever since then, you’ve dedicated yourself to being the only person he will ever need. to this day, he is still trying to repay you for loving him this hard. 

there was always a peaceful sensation waking up in the academy house. the feeling of being surrounded by those who love you, everyday, brings a smile to your face. the siblings agreed on not moving out for a couple years, taking time to overcome the years of trauma collected more recently. although you would like to have your own place with your boyfriend, there's no harm staying here with everyone else for a while longer. 

you remove the weighted sheets off five’s bed allowing the breeze to strike your body. the shock of the cold floor sends a bone chilling feeling starting from the bottoms of your feet, all the way to the tips of your hair. there's a slight grumble coming from the boy still lying in the bed. a combination of annoyance and sadness stretched across his half-awake face. 

“please, a couple more minutes..” his face turns to face your direction, sleepy eyes barely open but still pleading with yours. a lone arm reaches out to grab yours, a small attempt at preventing you from leaving.

“as cute as you are, i really want to go downstairs for coffee.” you lean into his touch, bending down to place a kiss on his lips. a smile creeps upon the boy, a sly hand wrapping around your waist dragging you down onto his chest. you let out a surprised eek before giggling. 

“can you survive 20 minutes without coffee?” he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, rubbing your back subconsciously.

“fine, 20 minutes and then i’m getting up without or without you.” you look up smiling at him, the boy leaning down to kiss you once more. his gentle touch makes you sigh into him, melting into his body, relaxing against his chest. he pulls away and wraps the bed sheets back over the two of you. 

the combination of a cold room, warm bed and safe boyfriend creates a comforting environment, your eyes fall drowsy before slipping into darkness. when you awake, the bed is empty, no five to be seen anywhere. you rub your eyes confused, sit up for a moment and sigh. a faint smell of coffee is brewing in the distance, most likely in the downstairs kitchen. you decide to follow the scent trail in hopes that your boyfriend is waiting for you at the end of it. 

the house is peacefully quiet, a gentle hum lingers over the hallways. you make your way down towards the rest of the house, whispers and giggles come from beyond the doors of other bedrooms. you pass viktor going up the stairs as you come down, greeting with a cheerful embrace and soft smile. 

“seen five anywhere?” you ask, pulling back.

“hmm, kitchen i think? was making pancakes when i passed by” he smiles at you before turning to continue his journey upstairs. with a small nod, you thank him.

rounding the kitchen's large wall, you see five standing over what seems to be the pancakes cooking on the stove. his back is facing you, unaware that you entered the room. his hair is still messy as if he woke up moments ago, loose black sweats hang from his waistline, a green jumper embracing his torso. the record player sits in the living room, playing distant calming jazz music as five hums along. 

you creep up behind him, wrapping arms around his waist and laying your head onto his shoulder. his body tenses for a minute before relaxing, his arm bends backwards to hold your waist, pressing you into him. 

“good morning, love. i was going to bring this up to you, but now you’re already here” he speaks while flipping the soft flannel cake on the pan. he gently places the spatula onto the counter, spinning in a circle to face you. your hands still wrapped around his stomach carefully, holding his touch.

“mm sorry, i smelled coffee and knew i’d find you somewhere nearby” you smiled up at him, his deep brown eyes staring back before leaning down. he places a gentle kiss upon your lips, hands cupping your face as he does so. you lean into his hands, kissing him back while running hands to the back of his neck.

his hands rest on the backs of your thighs momentarily before he bends into a swift motion, picking you up and gently setting you down onto the closet counter. you pull back from him, laughing at his action. he shoots a grin in your direction before turning back to the well toasted hotcakes. there's a peaceful silence between the two of you before he speaks up once more.

“coffee is still hot, want me to make you a cup?” his loving tone swoons you everytime he offers to do even the smallest things. you nod yes before he swiftly turns to begin making the warm beverage. the boy presents the drink just how you like. it didn't take him long to memorize exactly how you favor it.

everything he does for you is a constant act of service, from a small cup of coffee, to a full platter of breakfast foods, or even carrying you upstairs to lay together once you’re happily full of food. his love for you is laced in the caffeine high that he brings with every kiss.

 ♱⛧ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨ ୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆⛧♱

thank you so much for reading!

i hope you’ve enjoyed it, please feel free to make any comments or story requests down below. any support is always appreciated <3

[npookie0]

Hi hi~! I absolutely love your writing and often find myself coming back to reread many of your pieces. However, it can sometimes be a bit tedious to scroll through all the posts to find a specific one. I was wondering if you’d consider creating a masterlist to make it easier to navigate your work? Of course, there’s no obligation to do this if it’s too much trouble—I just thought I’d ask!

Omg yes!!!

(i had to look this thing up lmao)

Masterlist fixed!

N's Masterlist <3

Killer Chat!

The Devil - Ronin

Date with your Devilish Butcher

When the Devil is there for you.

The Devil is Your Saviour. - Ronin X trans!fem reader

Ronin's Headcanons

The Devil helps an Angel lose its wings

Sweet Killer Obsession

The Devil's Hyper Man.

Veins Filled With Caffeine Poison

Serenading the Devil.

Submitting Your Aorta To the Devil.

Devil To the Rescue.

Devil's Fucked Up Darling

3am Delusions.

Devilish Healing Assistance

The Devil's Devotee.

The Words Of a Snake.

Devil's Special Care.

Afraid Of the Dream.

The Devil's Celebrations.

Alcoholic Lover.

The Saint Becomes the Sinner.

Devil's Messed Up Lover.

Swimming With The Snake.

Load and shot!

The Devil is your voice.

Bird imprisoned in its own cage.

Wings painted crimson.

From behind the screen.

Devil's sweetheart has a secret.

A broken soul.

Body is the true form of art.

To hide your true colours is to be stripped of freedom.

Sickly lover and their Devil.

Mourning Star.

The Devil's Help.

Over And Over Again.

A Massacred Lover

The Heartsick Angel.

Taking care of your overworked angel.

Angelic Healer.

Dancer stripped of freedom.

Angel's headcanons.

GINGERLY WAITING FOR YOU.

From Shadows to Limelight.

Heartburn and Shackles

A Mind Too Loud.

V - Vigilante, Justice, Batman.

When blood stains your hands for the first time, call for w Vigilante.

A nuisance for a Vigilante.

Care Of a Vigilante.

Never Alone, Always Scared.

V headcanons!

Goodnight, Gentle Monster.

Misaki - The Worldwide Assassin.

A fool terrified of seeing their foolish goof.

Headless lover.

Misaki headcanons!

Other (KC cast, Poly, ships)

KC x Lethargy Reader

Halloween with your killers.

The KC cast when you're sick

KC x Silly Reader

A killer's soothing lover.

N yap about how they write the cast.

And historians call them friends. Luca x reader X Feli

Drag Queen reader x KC

Killers in Distress.

The Chaotic Duo Ronin x Misaki

Celebrating with the Chaotic Duo Ronin x Reader x Misaki

Enemies to lovers... With an additional lover? V x reader x Ronin

Angel, Devil, and a Mortal. Angel x reader x Ronin

Make Up Artiste

Angelic birthday of Christ with the Devil.

Murderous sketches, dangerous praises.

Serial killers but put them in an high school.

'Til death do us part.

Chaotic souls with corrupted minds. - Ronsaki.

A singer and their song.

A vlog full of love. - Ansaki

Soft Loving Sinners - Angel x reader x Ronin

Gluttony Gods

May The Sinful Love Stay Unrequited Forever. - Thernin.

Save the last dance for me. - Thernin.

Save The Angel's Queen. - Thernin

Tales Of a Feather.

Love Through Violence.

Bound By Sin.

Gingersnaps and Kisses.

Rotting Nightmare.

SERAPHIM SLUM

More stories will be coming and I will link them here ^^

I wanted to say how thankful I am for you guys, you reading my fics, leaving requests... It means a lot!

I can't believe that I posted my first fic on the 20th of October and now on the 18th of November I have so much fics that we need a whole list!!!

I am so so so thankful for everything my dear pookies

I will be posting more!!!!

A reminder that I am taking commissions, my kofi link is:

Here!

If you want to discuss the commission hit me up on discord @npookie0 or in private msgs here!

- N <3

[meandhisjohn]

News from a crazy mind...

Sherlock, mental health and the support from a fandom.

When Sherlock becomes what the doctor ordered....

100 days lie between those moments.

100 days since I wanted to die.

100 days since I emailed Dignitas.

100 days full of struggle and hope.

100 days later I made it out of hell again.

A handful of people who showed me unconditional love during the hardest setback of my disorder career.

I will love them till the day I die.

And once again the Sherlock world saved my soul before I destroyed it myself.

A fandom full of kindness and support and a detective and a doctor who saved me in more ways than they can ever imagine.

Had a doctors appointment on Friday and I have one hell of a doctor.

Not as good as John Watson but highly supportive of anything that increases my strength.

We talked about a little miracle.

A miracle that sounds so incredibly stupid but it is such a huge thing.

For the past five years I have to take besides my regular medication in mornings and in the evenings a little extra cocktail of meds in the afternoon to keep my extreme nervousness in check.

I'm nervous and tense 24/7 and it takes a toll on my body sometimes.

It makes it very hard to sleep and to find a way to sit still.

So the extra meds are necessary..

Ten days ago I started to listen to Podfics and quickly discovered a new way to enjoy the Sherlock universe.

I'm 43 years old and retired since I was 39 because my body couldn't take the stress anymore.

I have some free times during the day and I made it a habit for the past ten days to listen to Podfics in the afternoon and again at night.

And suddenly I could sleep and, and here comes the miracle..

I forgot to take my afternoon meds.

Even more my body relaxed in a way I haven't experienced in decades.

My body was obviously as surprised as I am because since a few days I have to drink a coffee in the afternoon, otherwise I would fall asleep.

I can only drink coffee without caffeine which tastes awful but otherwise my nervousness goes through the roof and I shake like a leaf.

But now instead of taking an extra dose of anxiety relief pills I take a real good old black coffee full of caffeine after listening to Podfics.

And that sounds incredibly ridiculous but for me it is a miracle because for the first time in over 15 years I feel calm and not because of a chemical reaction but because of a human reaction.

I know @totallysilvergirl had no idea what would happen by telling me about Podfics but I will never forget it!

Back to my incredible doctor who saw the change from a person who was determined to end this endless circle of depression and anxiety to a person who smiles again.

Now he ordered a six months try of daily Podfics ( no joke) to see if my blood levels improves and accordingly my medication can be reduced.

He knows that in the past three years my disorder was always better during my Sherlock highs so he is actually happy about the new development.

Long story short ( too late I know)

Do whatever feels right for you!

Invent your own therapy!

Do what makes you happy no matter how unconventional it might be.

Because you matter!!!!

I attach you my new and exciting Podfic collection for you.

Maybe you will find something you like.

Of course everything is available in Reading form as well.

Be happy in your own, weird, wonderful way.

@keirgreeneyes @discordantwords @a-victorian-girl @bewitched-bullet @lisbeth-kk @whatnext2020 @inevitably-johnlocked @barachiki @babaybo @jobooksncoffee @rey-jake-therapist @missdeliadili @helloliriels @podfixx @johnlocky @johnlockpodficclub @johnlockficclub @peanitbear @strawberrywinter4 @chocolate1elise @kettykika78

[remeberm3]

morning brew | k.m.

⎯⎯ a timeless soul navigates the soft glow of a quaint coffee shop, enchanted by a vibrant girl who brings light to his shadowed existence.

Warnings: just fluff, ginger (comming from a redhead)

Every morning, Klaus found himself stepping into the downtown coffee shop, the familiar jingle of the door announcing his arrival like a longstanding ritual. This cozy sanctuary nestled between a flower shop and a bookstore transcended the ordinary—a perfect blend of warmth, aroma, and life. The rich scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air, mingling with the sweet allure of pastries, creating a haven that felt surprisingly comforting for a man like him, who had traversed centuries shadowed by darkness and loss.

Yet, it was not the coffee that drew him back day after day. No, it was her. Each morning, there she sat, a striking vision in the corner by the window, her fiery ginger hair catching the sunlight and illuminating her delicate features. She captivated him in ways that were inexplicably profound.

Klaus often observed her lost in a novel, her eyes dancing with the words on the page and her lips curving into soft smiles that made his heart flutter as if it had suddenly taken up archery lessons. But why was he just standing there like a lovesick puppy? He was Klaus Mikaelson! The infamous hybrid of horror and charm, and yet here he was, playing wallflower at a coffee shop.

“Mornin’, Klaus!” the barista called cheerfully as he approached the counter.

“Good morning. Place my order, will you? I feel particularly charming today,” he replied, flashing a grin that often melted hearts and shattered egos.

She raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Oh? Let’s see that charm in action, Mr. Mikaelson.”

As he waited for his cappuccino, his eyes inevitably drifted back to her. She is sitting at her usual corner table, completely unaware of the chaos she had unintentionally unleashed within him.

༊*·˚

Days turned into weeks, and as Klaus approached this daunting task of striking up a conversation, he often thought of how beautifully she held her book—like a sorceress wielding an ancient spell. But today felt different. The café buzzed with chaotic energy, laughter spilling from every nook, and the aroma of brewed coffee teasing the senses.

In a moment of reckless abandon, Klaus resolved to embody his confidence. Just as he gathered his courage, the door swung open, and she rushed in, inadvertently bumping into him, her books teetering precariously.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed, her wide green eyes meeting his with an innocent sweetness that knocked him off-kilter.

“Not at all,” Klaus said smoothly. “I’m perfectly capable of being knocked over by a beautiful girl. It’s sort of my thing.”

She blinked, caught off guard, before a grin broke over her face—an adorable sight that made something twist pleasantly in his chest. “Oh, really? Is that how you woo all the ladies? By standing around and waiting to be clobbered?”

“Touché,” he replied, enjoying the playful banter. “I usually go for the more dramatic entrances, but I’ll save that for another day when I’m feeling especially… theatrical.”

She laughed, the sound bright as the sun streaming through the window. “I’d love to see that someday, Shakespeare. But until then, I’m just curious. What brings you to this heart of caffeine addiction daily?”

“Well, I come for the coffee, of course,” he replied with mock seriousness. “But mostly for an opportunity to meet fascinating people.” He gestured to her, a smirk playing on his lips. “And you seem to top my list.”

Her expression shifted to one of surprise mixed with curiosity. “You really have a flair for words, don’t you? Trying to charm me already?”

“Absolutely,” he replied with a charming grin. “It’s practically second nature by now. Though I must admit, I could use a little practice. Since you’re clearly a captivating force of nature, how about granting me the honor of joining you for coffee?”

“Only if you promise not to put me to sleep with your boring stories,” she teased, crossing her arms with a playful smirk. “I’d prefer my mocha without any unintentional snoozefests, thank you very much!”

“No promises,” he said, caught slightly off-guard yet intrigued. “Think of it as a riveting horror stories with a sprinkle of romance.”

“Consider me intrigued,” she replied, her laughter ringing like the sweetest chime.

༊*·˚

As they settled in at the nearby table, the conversation flowed like the rich coffee they sipped. Klaus felt an odd exhilaration wash over him as he shared pieces of himself, revealing fragments of his life that he had long kept buried, hesitant to let anyone glimpse the darkness that loomed behind his facade.

“I’ve traveled the world,” he began, his voice low yet inviting, “from the bustling streets of New Orleans to the romantic canals of Venice. I’ve witnessed empires rise and fall, and I’ve survived every single catastrophe.”

“Wow,” she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You must have some wild stories rattling around in that ancient head of yours! So tell me, does it ever get exhausting being a bona fide relic from a bygone era?”

“Not when I find amusement in charming people like yourself, bright spark,” Klaus replied, his smirk deepening as he leaned in, lowering his voice for dramatic effect. “But I assure you—there’s plenty of chaos involved. I’ve lost count of how many existential crises I’ve had over bad coffee.”

“Oh, please! I can’t imagine a guy like you having crises,” she said, leaning back and throwing her head back in laughter. “Your life sounds like a movie I’d binge-watch while devouring ice cream! Or sharing the remote…”

“Sharing the remote, eh? Now that—” Klaus paused for emphasis, tapping his chin—“is an act of bravery I’m not sure I can endorse.”

She raised an eyebrow, a challenging spark in her eyes. “Careful, Klaus. You don’t want to make me think you’re actually afraid of something.”

“Afraid? Never. I’ve only sharpened my fangs—and my wit—over the centuries. But spending an evening sharing the screen might demand a level of courage I’m unsure about,” he continued, an exaggerated look of concern crossing his features.

Their laughter filled the café, and Klaus leaned in closer, feeling a magnetic pull between them, a connection deeper than he had experienced in centuries. When the time came to leave, Klaus felt a pang of disappointment wash over him, bittersweet.

“Would you allow me to see you again?” he asked, his gaze steady and sincere.

“Sure, but this time—no bumping into me, vampire kung fu style, okay?” she replied, a grin spreading across her lips.

“Fair enough,” he chuckled, his heart lifting the weight of his darkness ever so slightly. “Let’s go for an adventure next time, and I promise to attempt less of an entrance.”

As they stepped out into the soft light of the morning sun, the world awakened around them, casting a golden glow on their path, illuminating the possibilities unfurling between them. Klaus felt as if the universe had conspired in his favor, sending him a beacon of hope in the form of a human girl—a delightful spark illuminating the shadows he had grown to know.

[originalcharactersexyman]

Hiya! Howdy! Id love to toss my goofy silly mailman tf2 oc in the ring if there were slots left! His names Brodie :> Heres his toyhouse

Meet YOUR 10th Class Merc. The Courier. His name is Brodie 

From New York! Go Yankees!

Around 32-34

6"1

Lets take alook into the past: For a lot of his life he has committed ,,, so much fraud. So much. All of it. Mail fraud tax fraud voter fraud healthcare fraud identity fraud. Even credit card fraud when credit cards came out in 1966.  Frauding it up ever since he was a kid delivering newspapers and snooping in neighbor's mail. 

Eventually his fraudulent lifestyle catches up to him and lands him in prison when he suddenly became the inheritor of a minuscule fraction of Australium. And a certain group of individuals did not take too kindly to some rando getting his hands on the  insanely precious resource.  In order for the Australium to be ‘misplaced’, Brodie had to die. And die he did. Not long after being incarcerated, he was hanged for his many, many crimes. A bit of overkill, really, but it was apparently the only way. Plus a lot of the guards and inmates kept finding themselves in varying degrees of debt so two birds one stone. Miss Pauling herself attends the hanging to make sure Brodie does die and sure enough he is pronounced dead. As dead as it gets. 

Well. Mostly.

As his soul prepares for judgment in hell,  Brodie decides “I am absolutely not ready to be dead yet.” Soo he convinces Satan “hey you guys got the wrong guy. I’m blah blah blah, here’s my ID and credentials n whatnot. Here’s who you’re actually looking for” (a lie obviously) but Satan’s like “Oh shit. Um wow- this, like, never happens. Lemme…fix that real quick.” (This is intentionally left vague and about how much hell tell ya about it with changing details each time)

Back in his body, Brodie sits up, completely nakey, save for the body blanket, and startles Miss Pauling who instinctively has a gun to his face. Quickly thinking, Brodie strikes a deal; “Hey hey! Don't Shoot. Uh, listen.  Technically, I was pronounced dead.  Obviously you can keep whatever I was supposed to inherit, I won't even give it another thought but just lemme go - please?”  Sure enough, Miss P agrees, except now Brodie has to…start over again.  Which isn’t a big *deal*, but it’ll take him a minute to get back on his feet since his last identity is supposed to be cold turkey. 

Though, this gives Miss P an idea.  “Hey, do you want a job?”

So he’s back, babyyy. Brodie is a new man (who legally doesn't exist) and is recruited by Mann Co to be the teams smuggler mailman and a merc when violence is needed!!  Someones gotta deliver the mercs all their niche needs and all that, ya know? Someone who ain't afraid to get their hands dirty or have fingerprints or the same teeth they did before or leave any paper trail!  Someone who isn't afraid to break into the next city over's local zoo and get some baboon uteri and hearts for medic, or do a 24 hr trip to Australia for Saxton hale pain tonic for sniper (so they avoid import fees), wine for spy, copious amounts of Tom Jones merch for scout, crates upon very weighty crates of ammo for Heavy, etc etc. Even just snacks from each mercs country (that Courier def sneaks bites from but dont tell anyone shhhh). Or just the pizza the mercs ordered in town.

Need something delivered? Brodie is your Courier! (He has to as his contract states, lest he break it and is 'super killed'.  No its not explained what that means but Brodie don't intend to find out.)

--

He's a bit of a goofy guy.  Quick witted when it comes to fraud but would ask Alexa what 4 x 12 is. His undying passion is committing petty crimes and scams and changing people's legal last names to something like "Scrotum". He's very *very* nosy and will read the merc's mail before he even gets it to them. He's got gossip to share. He loves snacks and has an awful diet consisting of gas station foods. Caffeinated soda and donuts are go-to's, especially on the road. His fav mode of transportation is on his motorcycle.

WOOF thats a long one lol Thank you sm for ur consideration !

WELCOME ABOARD!

Seats Taken: 22/24 (TWO LEFT)

[sweetcarrotsandroses97]

RUN: Against Time | JJK | TEASER

Pairing: boyfriend! Jungkook x girlfriend! Reader

Summary: You and Jungkook had been together for five years now and your relationship was as solid as a rock. You loved Jungkook, Jungkook loved you. He knew you were the one for him since the moment he took you out for dinner on your first date. However, things take a change when you discover your boyfriend's secret that not only puts your relationship on the line but your life as well. Jungkook would have to run against time to save your life. He made a mistake, he wouldn't allow you to pay for it. So now, tangled in a mess of emotions, secrets, love and time Jungkook must find a way to save your life before the clock stops running, will he get there on time?

Warnings: mature content +18, angst, fluff, established relationship, guns, mafia activity, murder, threats, burglary, kidnapping, dealing with the wrong people, ft. OT7, love, character death, reader is described to be shorter than Jungkook, (more specific warnings/tags will be added on the story post)

Word Count: 500 words

A/N: This story will be published exclusively for my Golden Members on Ko-fi. If you'd like to buy my membership you'd be able to read this story as well as exclusive content and insights of my writing process!

The slight red light on your black choker made your heart quiver inside you. You looked at Jungkook as he drove through the streets of Seoul, his stare dead serious as many thoughts ran through his mind.

You still couldn't comprehend how he had managed to fool you for years. The fact that you were sitting next to him in his car didn't mean you weren't angry at him but because your life was now in his hands.

Your hands fisted the soft fabric of your coat in fear, in nervousness, in anger. Your emotions were a muddy concoction that tangled in your mind and didn't allow you to think straight to the point where you began feeling nauseous.

"Don't worry."

He spoke, you had forgotten that your boyfriend was sitting next to you for a moment. It made you come back to reality and away from your dark thoughts, not that your current situation was any better to begin with.

"You'll be fine, (y/n). I promise."

You turned to see him, your eyes roamed over his side profile as you took in the calm and collected image Jungkook radiated from himself, however on the inside he was panicking. He was scared, for you, for your life, for your future together.

All because he messed up.

All because of his greediness.

All because of his high standards.

His hand tightened on the steering wheel as he pressed the pedal and the car accelerated. Now your life was on the line and only he could save you if he won this chase against time.

"What about you, Jungkook? Will you be fine?"

Your question made him sigh deeply. He knew what he had to do to ensure your safety, but was he strong enough to endure it? To sacrifice his sanity for your life? To taint his soul so that yours would be intact?

Yes.

He'd burn the world down for you yet Jungkook was well aware that your relationship with him would never be the same after that night was over. He knew you'd never forgive him for what he did. He knew he might lose you after completing The Tasks. But at least you'd live.

You had given him everything before, the only thing he could do now to fix his mistake was to save your life. And he'd do it. One way or another. He didn't have much of a choice for he knew if you were to die tonight, he'd follow you close by. For he loved you so much it nearly hurt and because he loved you, he couldn't let you die. Not like this. Not because of his mistake. Not because of his foolishness.

The constant red light on your choker reminded him of it. Of what he had sacrificed. Of what he had taken for granted. Of what he had once wanted to fix not knowing that perfect things break in this imperfect world.

"I'll be fine once you are safe."

January/05/2024

~Masterlist

☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕

[thedreamwraptwriter]

Companions Don't Take Sick Days!

Tenth Doctor x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1046

Warnings: none.

Note: [Y/N] = Your Name

A soft humming awoke me from my deep sleep – the comforting sound of the Tardis was a daily occurrence for me now and I couldn’t help but want to snuggle back into bed. The past few days had been hectic; the Doctor had whisked me all around the universe, bouncing between times, and saving worlds. I loved being by his side but sometimes it felt as though he had endless amounts of energy and I, being human, felt as though I’d missed out on a few (hundred) cups of caffeine with the way I was feeling. 

“Ergh,” I grumbled aloud, pushing myself groggily out of the warm comforter. The room I stayed in was lit by a soft, warm glow, pulsing along the walls. Squinting, I stumbled toward the door, eyes still adjusting to the lack of light around me. With a push, I opened the door of my room and poked my head out into the main control area. The Doctor was sitting by the console, staring intensely at it with a furrowed brow. His eyes darted back and forth, as though reading something at high speed, and I noticed his leg bouncing with energy. Whatever was making him look like that I wasn’t ready to face and quickly began to withdraw back into my ro-

“Y/N!” 

I groaned. Caught.

“Yes Doctor?” I said, voice scratchier than I expected.

He came bounding over to me, trench coat swishing behind him like a majestic bat.

“Dear me, you look terrible,” he said, gently grabbing my face with his hands and looking me over. “You feeling alright?”

I batted his hands away, embarrassed. “We’ve been going nonstop, I think I’m allowed to look a little worse for wear,” I shot back, crossing my arms. “Besides, I’m up now. What’s on the roster for today?”

The Doctor looked at me sternly, his brown eyes drilling into my soul. I hated it when he looked at me like this – it felt as though he could read my mind.

“I can,” he said cheekily, and I felt my entire body heat. “Just kidding – I think I the psychic link bracelets effects are finally wearing off.” 

He raised his arm up and jingled the small silver bracelet on his wrist. I groaned, feeling the matching bracelet heavy on my arm. I’d forgotten about those. Alien tech really was something. They’d proven useful in our last adventure, but I was so tired I’d forgotten to remove mine. I hurriedly pulled mine off just in case it broadcasted anything else out to him.

“However, I do not need one of those to see that you are obviously looking really terrible,” said the Doctor, gently placing a hand on my shoulder. “Why don’t you go back and lay down?”

I shook his hand off my shoulder, ignoring the pulsing in the back of my head. “Now Doctor, I don’t think that will be necessary. I saw you looking – peeved, at the console so why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”

The Doctor crossed his arms, looked over his shoulder at the control room, and back at me. 

“No.”

I blinked. “Sorry, what?” 

He sighed. “You are not doing anything today. You are taking a sick day.”

“Companions don’t take sick days!” I exclaimed. “This is ridiculous. I’m not even sick.”

The Doctor rolled his eyes. Whipping out his sonic screwdriver, he rapidly scanned me.

“Elevated temperature, increased mucous secretions, and a high white blood cell count. Pardon me, Y/N, but I think that would indicate that you are, in fact, ill,” he said, smiling triumphantly. “I’m putting you back to bed.”

Before I could argue, the Doctor scooped me up his arms and strode back into my room. My heart rate spiked and the dizziness I was feeling earlier increased tenfold. What a cunning man. 

“That’s better, isn’t it,” the Doctor said cheerfully as he fluffed my pillows and tucked me tightly into bed. “The color is coming back to your cheeks already.”

I turned away from him – the flush in my cheeks was due to something else. 

“I suppose,” I mumbled. “But Doctor, what if you need help?”

The Doctor grinned. “I do have other friends in the Universe, you know. Lots of people owe me a favor or two. Though, I have to admit, you are my favorite.” 

He winked at me. “Now then, what else can I do to help you feel better? Ah yes.”

With a flurry, he ran out of my room. I heard dishes clanging, the Tardis beeping, and some other odd noises echoing about before he came striding back in, balancing a tray of food in one hand and a cold compress in the other. 

“There we are,” he said, carefully placing the tray on my lap and laying the cold compress on my forehead. As much as I wanted to hate his fussing, I found it to be extremely charming (and the cold compress felt quite nice).

I stared at the tray of soup and bread with some confusion. “You were only gone for a few minutes; where did you get this? I know you can’t cook.”

The Doctor chuckled. “I did a quick stop by your hometown – I know what you like! Give me some credit, Y/N.” 

I smiled. The Doctor was incredibly thoughtful and he listened more than I thought he did. “I’m being spoiled today, it seems,” I said.

He grinned. “Right then - open up now, Y/N!” he said, picking up some soup and holding the spoon towards me expectantly.

Immediately, my entire body burned with embarrassment. “W-wait a second I can feed myself!”

I went to grab the spoon, but the Doctor smoothly grabbed my wrist and laid it back down on the sheets. His warm hand enveloped mine and it felt as though time and space stood still. 

“Y/N, please let me take care of you,” he said softly. I looked into his soft brown eyes, my pulse fluttering. We were so close we could have-

“Yes, sorry,” I murmured, tearing my eyes away from his and allowed the Doctor to care for me. He was so gentle, his touch left fire on my skin, but I did my best to ignore it. He was the loneliest man in the universe, and he wanted to keep it that way…but some days, it seemed to me, he’d rather be anything else. 

___

Author’s Note: I’m sick as a dog right now and was watching some Doctor Who to pass the time – decided I might as well write a classic sickfic with some nice fluff. Somehow, though, I managed to make it sad at the very end. Sorry : D

[imagine-shenanigans]

I'm getting back into the swing of things for writing, so here's some random safe for work headcanons because I've been reading an obscene amount of x reader content (Please go check out Aggre(g/v)ation by llama goddess, and Saving Three Ex-cell-ent skeletons by recklessly caffeinated on ao3 because I got brain worms babey.)

Also since its been awhile since I've written something on this blog, remember that these are stream of consciousness teehee <3

(General tws: references (but not explicitly said) to past consumption of humans, ED/Disordered eating and mental health issues, au-typical violence references, etc)

Word Count: 2.2k words ish

.

Horrortale!Sans (Skull) x Reader Misc SFW Headcanons

My favorite thing is when people portray sans in any light as either Just A Little Guy or as Fuckin Huge and Skull is a Big Boy <333 he's easily 7 feet tall, and Built Fucking Different.

Monsters can't like, completely and utterly alter the type of monster they are, so you won't see a Bunny Monster turn into a Moldsmal but its very widely understood that magic reflects the soul reflects the mind reflects the body - so its not really something where monsters experience dysphoria as much? Like if a monster is afab, but realizes they're trans and a guy, it may take awhile to transition - and they may need some help via magic other than their own - but it's really normal in comparison.

Unfortunately, the positive aspects of the whole "mind/soul/body" equation in that you'll eventually look how you want so long as you put the effort into changing every day can also be blocked by trauma and "scarring" to the soul. It's pretty rare in the canon universe, but for Horrortale monsters its damn near exclusive - when you have to do anything you can to survive, adaptation to your environment makes you a hell of a lot scarier in compenstation.

Skull is one such monster where if it weren't for his injury, he'd be a complete 180 from the typical monsters you see. But because of it, it makes it harder to control his magic because he can't think straight. It takes him longer to form sentences, takes him longer to process words sometimes, or even read. He gets light sensitivity really bad, and because his body change wasn't by his choice, but by an unfortunate way of being injured while in a traumatic situation, Skull, no matter how much better he gets, will never fully go back to what he was before.

He's extremely self-conscious about his size and his looks, not to mention his mental capacity. He knows and can think about what he's doing, his mind has never lost that sharpness or intellect. He can strip a machine down to parts and put it back together or put it to other use in minutes, but if you ask him to write it down or explain it he's going to have one hell of a time and he'll probably leave the experience worse than he went into it.

Similarly, if he does want to talk, in one of his rare moods where he's explaining what he's doing out loud to you, he could go on for hours, but suddenly hit a block where the words don't work right.

Be patient with him when this happens. He doesn't like it, and even though it can be frustrating at times, like if you're trying to decide something for dinner or write up a grocery list, he really is doing his best.

Sign language is a good alternative when the words don't want to come out but he's still able to communicate - writing can be one sided, but sometimes thats all he can do too.

When an idea strikes the both of you one day to just draw what he's thinking, Skull could fucking kiss you senseless when you hand him a white board and a dry erase marker. Words may not be making sense in his brain but he can picture what he wants in those moments so this is the perfect compromise between the two for communication.

Skull is his name now, so even though he was once Sans, Skull is what he picked as the reclamation of all that's happened to him. A name that he picked to get him through it day by day but its also a reminder of where he's been and where he'll go. That said... it's also a name he initially picked as a form of self harm to some degree, a mocking reference to his own injury that hindered him.

So while he'll probably never change his name again... he appreciates it when you call him pet names. It's a reminder that you love him enough to do so, while also giving himself a break from the constant reminder. He particularly loves when you call him your "Big old teddy bear" because... god he does not feel like it sometimes.

Get it its a reference to some of the fandom calling him Bear and I love that name for him a lot too

Due to the past, he has some Big Issues With Food, constantly bouncing back and forth between feast and famine.

He has some issues with meat at times - on bad days certain textures and tastes just remind him of the bad times in his life where survival was such a tightrope walk that just imagining eating it makes him sick.

A very "safe food" house, where the two of you stock up on your safe foods and have a cupboard dedicated to it for days you can't stand anything else.

Some days, Skull is content for the two of you to eat at the kitchen table or to watch TV in the living room while you two eat from separate bowls/plates, and he can eat fairly freely, not particularly caring who eats how much or in what order.

Others... other days he anxiously watches to make sure you've had a serving before he gets his, or, more likely, he brings the full pan/a single platter to the table, and the two of you share the same food, taking bites in turn so he can make sure you're getting enough to eat.

King of cooking. It makes him feel better to have full say of what goes into the meals, and honestly the man is an excellent cook. If you insist on helping him cook, it's a 50/50 on whether he gives you this smug little smile and sets you up on the counter top so he can look at you while he cooks, or if he actually lets you help.

He feels out of control if he can't cook, so even on special occasions he's still going to be cooking himself, unless you feel the Urge To Cook or you two order out.

Even then, please just go over with him what you did step by step and tell him what fully went in it - he trusts you implicitly and he's unlikely to outright ask... but it always helps ease his mind when you walk him through what you did just so he can feel less guilty.

Cuddler.

Big fucking cuddler.

Sitting on the couch alone? Not for long. Skull appears? Bam. you're in his lap, his claws smoothing across your skin and through your hair, purring up a storm as he settles his chin on the top of your head and closes his eyes.

If you're watching TV, he's only ever going to pay half attention if he's got you in his lap, half-snoozing in a very light doze as he basks in your presence, and half listening for danger/to the TV depending on the day.

He ADORES when you read to him. He loves it when you talk, and when he gets to listen to storytime while you talk? Best. Day. Ever.

Loves how small you are in comparison to him - something he never thought he'd be comfortable with at first, just based on the idea alone, but in practice he loves being completely wrapped around you and making sure you're safe. You're his personal teddy bear, no matter how many times you call him that yourself.

Jetpacking/Him being the little spoon is... unlikely. He's got some damn broad shoulders and chest, and he's not super happy with the idea of your limbs inside of him no matter if its on purpose or not.

If you want to hold him, he's definitely okay with that (although he does prefer to hold you) as long as you're touching him. You'll just have to let him set his head in your lap, or rest against your chest as he snuggles you chest to... well not chest, so more chest-to-skull and chest-to-legs with how he holds you. He's very beefy and has presence but he's about half the weight most people expect, despite the fact that it should be obvious because he's a skeleton.

He lets out the most broken whimper-whine-purr when you gently kiss the cracks on his skull, close to the gaping wound there. Don't actually touch inside or press too close to the wound itself, because that's genuinely very uncomfortable in the way it would be if he were human and had a missing eye and you touched the inside of the socket to see what it felt like. Just overall a bad experience so Don't Do That No Matter What The Intrusive Thoughts Say, although he'd let you do it in a heartbeat if you asked him

Absolutely whipped. Skull will do anything and everything you say if you just look at him just like that - just like he's your everything, like you love him without bounds and without exception. Puppy eyes also work.

He's a goddamn simp is what he is,

You'll just be minding your own business and you'll look over and catch him staring at you like you've hung the moon and the stars just to provide him with a small amount of your light during the nighttime. He looks at you with such adoration that it hurts.

Sometimes it looks a little freaky like, before you've come to automatically understand his expressions but goddamnit its so hard not to fall in love with him even just by a little more when he loves you so fucking much.

Kissies? Kissies for Skull? Please?

man FIENDS for kissies.

Once he's more comfortable giving affection unprompted you can barely keep his fucking hands off of you. He goes from "I Can And Will Nuzzle You And Pull You Into My Lap But That's It" to "No Kissies? No Snuggles? No Love For Skull? Oh! Jail! Jail For Datemate! Jail For Datemate For One Thousand Years!"

He straight up just hangs off of your clothing while staring at you until you give him a kiss or a hug. He'll come up to you and just bury his face into your neck while purring, or nuzzle your hair, but then moments later pout at you while wrapping his arms around your middle and burying his face into your stomach until you give up whatever youre doing and pay attention to him.

He doesn't do it often But By God Does He Get His Way When He Does.

He's also the type to just like, spend the entire day giving you small pecks on the lips and cheeks and forehead, and then snuggle you at night, and then the next day he'll be way less clingy. You take it in stride and then he just out of the blue dips you in the fucking moonlight and kisses you senseless.

The bastard.

Circling back to pet names, he thinks the nickname Teddybear/Bear is cute and he likes it, but call him My Love/Love/Dear Heart/something else dripping with affection and he's cupping your face in his hands and staring at you adoringly while he rubs your cheek with his claw.

Surprise him with new ones and he'll turn positively blue in the face while smiling like a fool

Surprise him with silly ones and he'll be even more in love while laughing. call him your little chicken nugget and he cant stop smiling and chuckling for a few hours. God. He'll dream of kissing you under the moonlight if you make a pun out of it.

(Brief aside here so I can avoid the text character limit "per block" but I prefer doing bullet point lists for these so anyway continue on)

Pet names always depend on the person, so whatever his one for you depends on you as a person (thats the easy way out for me) but he prefers just one pet name. (Aside from like. Babe being thrown in sometimes yknow)

He'll start with one pet name and see how you react to it - he prefers cute ones like Kitten, Bunny, Lovebird, etc. Something small and cute and adorable - though he changes it up depending on what you respond best to, because while the majority of the reason he calls you a pet name is out of affection, he still calls you pet names to see you get flustered.

On days he's feeling better, he gets more sassy he's gonna include more puns. Or teasing. Example - if he calls you lovebird, or some sort of bird-based nickname? Fuckin. He's calling you pigeon to see how you react.

Bunny? Hare-brain

Kitten? Fuzzball

If its an animal/bird/etc that he calls you in terms of nicknames, he might even refer to you as the scientific name of the animal, or a breed in that category because he thinks its funny to watch you fully stop in your tracks and process what he's just said.

Picks you up at any given opportunity.

Puddle? Oh dear, he should make sure your shoes don't get wet. Better princess carry you.

About to miss an appointment? Thrown over a shoulder.

Just feels like it? Get Scooped Idiot. Okay i have Way More Thoughts but I'm already at 2k because I have no impulse control so byeeeee come request more xreader stuff from me

[quibbs126]

Okay, so I saw a post on Twitter a couple days ago by @leonisloresmith, where basically the idea is that the Ancients used to look different before they got their Soul Jams, and I liked the idea a lot. Cut to 24 hours later and it’s still on my mind, and so I’m like “screw it I’m stealing the idea” and so we got this

So yeah, pre-Soul Jam Ancients. I guess it’s sort of an AU, since as far as I can tell, in actual canon the Ancients have always looked the way they do

It’s only Hollyberry, Dark Cacao and Golden Cheese because they were the only ones I had thought about things for. I had drawn Pure Vanilla, but I realized that I wasn’t working with any real ideas, I was just drawing him for the sake of drawing them all, so I decided to just finish up these three for now and save Vanilla and Lily for another day

The original post didn’t specify changing the ingredients, but I wanted to because to be honest, there’s not a whole lot you can do to change their appearances while keeping their original names in my opinion. But I thought I should keep their core flavors similar, still being vanilla, berries, cacao/chocolate, cheese and flower (though I stuck with lilies to be consistent)

I have names for all of them, though tbh I’m still debating White Lily’s

Juniper Berry -> Hollyberry

Cacao Nib -> Dark Cacao

Cheese Dust -> Golden Cheese

Vanilla Bean -> Pure Vanilla

Wood Lily -> White Lily

It isn’t the names for the other two I’m particularly stuck on, rather it’s their backstories. Speaking of which, let’s get to what I have

So first, Juniper Berry. Juniper here I’m thinking came from a family that runs an inn or tavern, mostly just because of the whole berry juice thing. I imagine that despite the likely rowdy nature of her upbringing, it was a pretty good one. Truth be told that’s all I think I have to say on the matter, a lot less than I thought

I made her juniper berries because I wanted something in a different color, maybe something blue. And also because I randomly saw that juniper berries are apparently used in gin, and again, berry juice. I apologize to the Hollyberry fans, I really just focus on the berry juice aspect of her character when I know she has more going on. I was debating if I should make her skinnier, with the idea that she would have grown physically after getting her Soul Jam, but then I thought that’d be a really bad idea so I kept her as is. She can still be a strong girl and have Cacao be the one with the large physical change. Also I made her eyebrows round because that’s what Royal Berry has

Speaking of Cacao Nib, let’s get to him. So I imagine that Cacao grew up somewhere around the coast of the region and that generally, what family he had wasn’t very well off, and that he had to take on a lot of responsibility at a young age to help out. He’s also very small, even for his age. He also might be mute, or otherwise just very quiet

Okay this is one of my hyperfixation characters so I have more to say on him. I was struggling with his flavor since there’s not a lot you can do while keeping him cacao, but someone suggested to me cacao nibs and I went with that. As for his eyes, well they’re red because of Dark Choco. As for why the eye lines are dark, if you recall a previous post, I said I’m now headcanoning him as having some ancestry from the Licorice Tribe due to having sea salt in his dough (though not like his parents or anything, grandparents at least), and so I wanted to reference that here, as well as with his pin. It’s also why I’m putting him at the coast. Now granted, I recognize it makes more sense to make him related to the Coffee Tribe, with cacao having caffeine in it and his dilated pupil thing, but shush, let me do what I want. I wanted to make him the shortest so that basically, when he gets his Soul Jam, he magically shoots up to being the tallest, or maybe second tallest behind Hollyberry. Also him being short fits in with my headcanon that he’s the youngest Ancient

Next up and our final one for today, we have Cheese Dust. So Cheese was technically an orphan Cookie, but she was taken in and raised by a flock of Cheesebirds. She likes gold and shiny things, and also she does a lot of inventing, making small gadgets in her spare time, and trying to figure out if she can make functional wings for herself

I went with cheese dust for her because I think her original book description talked about cheese dust in it. And it sounds a little better than Cheese Powder to me. I know I made her eyes completely different than canon, but in part it was inspired by the other non-Golden Cheese Kingdom Cookies like Cheesecake and Roguefort, and also her eyes being triangle shaped in old concept art. And I just wanted to. The hair’s inspired by other pieces of concept art with her hair down, though I was struggling with what color to make it, eventually going with this. I wanted to make her the second shortest, being a bit taller than Cacao (though the difference is a lot smaller in the final picture), with the idea that while Cacao grows after getting her Soul Jam, she doesn’t, and so now she’s the shortest of the group

And I think that’s it for now, hopefully I’ll be able to get ideas for Vanilla and Lily done soon, I hope you find this enjoyable

[soullessjack]

good morning everypony here is my overly long caffeinated autistic analysis of the end scene from 14x19 ^_^

so for starters,

Jack’s glowy-archangel-eye color is canonically **gold.** not yellow like the princes of hell or shifters, but **gold.** Very shimmery, very sunshiny and starry and warm. yellow and gold are also the colors/aesthetics associated with jack most often in the fandom because of this so it’s his Thing™️ . however, in the smoky fiery background, they appear to be glowing so intently that they start to become a little…red …like Lucifer’s eyes so poignantly glow. the background is also extremely red (courtesy of the bunker going into lockdown, effectively *caging* them in), of course with some orangish yellows from the fire, but it’s very … “Lucifer in the background of Jack.”

secondly, jack is almost completely obscured by all of the smoke and backdrop fire/lockdown alarm lighting. if you zoom in close enough you can just barely see the white stripes on his cuffs, but otherwise he has absolutely no discernible features besides his glowing-out-of-skull eyes. he’s unrecognizable, vaguely human, but the prominent and most visible trait is the one he inherited from his nonhuman father, Lucifer, whose shadow he was pretty much born in and fought to get out of.

He feels nothing here but “icy hatred” and “fury,” and later on after he leaves he visits his grandparents specifically because “it’s clear—rejected by sam and dean—Jack’s looking for some kind of connection. Some kind of family.”

Lastly, of course, the utter destruction surrounding him; the twisted scrap metal remaining of his coffin, the numerous tiny fires that sprung from its’ demolition, the smoke that fills the entire dungeon so much that it engulfs and obscures Jack’s very being; it’s a very small scale of destruction compared to the “universe devouring” he was hyped up to deliver, but destruction nonetheless—and destruction in its own furious vengeful right, born from a deep sense of grief and pain of rejection and, like Fenrir, lashing out at being treated like a monster by those who you believe loved you; coming full circle into becoming that very monster in the process.

At his core, Jack’s base desires have almost always been to belong and have a family and be loved, especially for who he is, but he is also deeply afraid that ‘who he is’ is something evil and unlovable, something that can only ever destroy and ruin and take away; something that should die for the greater good of the world. he builds up a very specific well-mannered and optimistic hero/protector persona, not just to appear normal, but to be someone he thinks is “good” and useful and therefore worth loving, and the core fear of his “true nature” manifests as an avoidance of anything being ‘wrong’ with him in any capacity.

he lashes out at Mary over this direct fear, because she says something is wrong with him, and he can’t even cope with that with a soul. he tries to reassure Mary that “[he’s] not any different, that [he’s] still [himself]” and becomes defensive when she says otherwise; “the jack she knows would never have done that,” which, in his state of mind and rooted insecurity, would very easily translate into “you are not the person I know,” and likely goes even further to “you are not the person I know and love.” Mary insists on helping him, but Jack “shuts down; knows there’s nothing anyone can do.” He tells her that she can’t [help him] and just wants to be left alone as he begins spiraling, and we of course know the rest.

But afterwards, throughout Jack’s psychosis, Hallucifer basically tells him that he’s useless to the winchesters now, and useless = unlovable = not worth saving to them. He calls Jack their “pet monster,” “muscle to take out their enemies,” and just “pet,” diminishing Jack’s place in the family as their surrogate son (and likewise, them as his surrogate fathers), and reinforcing that he’s still a monster to them, and one that’s only valued or “loved” for his power. vocalizing his subconscious fear. He also taunts Jack’s obsessive motivation to resurrect Mary and, presumably earn forgiveness/regain his place in the family, as pathetic; not just a pointless effort to fix the unfixable, but something he shouldn’t even care about or want anymore, because he doesn’t really belong there anyways. The grief he feels for Mary is “just a reflex” from having a soul, not a genuine emotion or motivation that Jack still has; it’s not really about her, it’s about him being loved again. all of which Jack responds to with increasingly agitated “Shut ups.” And remember, that these are literally Jack’s own thoughts; his intrusive thoughts and long-held insecurities.

much like when Michael said he’d become more powerful and less human as he got older, and Jack “didn’t want to admit it was possible,” — he’s afraid to admit the possibility that he’s doing this selfishly; that he’ll never be loved again, that he was never really loved to begin with; that this is it. This is his true nature, the evil and destructive and pathetic unlovable pet monster that’s only good for being shown an enemy and told “sic-’em, boy.” he’s afraid that he might be doing this selfishly and is adamant that it’s because he really loves Mary. he really wants her back, too. he also goes and does those biblical atrocity murders with the same motivation, so much so that it actually irritates Duma to see he still cares lmao.

it’s a horrible culmination of grief and fear from the same root place, a horrible desire to be loved. to desire is to suffer and such. and that specific obsessive grief-stricken desire to be loved is intimately what twists jack into that unrecognizable rage-filled shadow.

jack’s desire to be loved and his fear of becoming/always being an unlovable monster is ultimately what drove him to becoming that monster.

@dakrapatops @dragonsareattackinghogwarts @aurorasleepsin @shallowseeker @jvnkless @ / anyone else I forgot lol

[strxwberrybtch]

A Hellish Love Story // Pt. 1

Pairing(s): Vox x F!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of Alcohol and Drugs

A/N: Hello my lovies! This is my first fic here on tumblr- it's a little short butttt I'm hoping to make this a multi-part series. This will definitely be a NSFW series with eventual smut ;) I would love to hear your input on this first part! Without further ado, enjoy :)

---

In life, the art of literature enthralled you. It captivated you in more ways than one. The way that words could transport you to another place completely fascinated you. At first, you treated it as a hobby or one could argue a distraction. One to drown out the harsh words that your parents constantly threw back and forth at each other.

It was no surprise that you found yourself constantly with a pen and paper in hand, jotting down your never ending ideas. You started taking it more seriously once you started high school. Normal english classes didn't excite you as much as the creative writing course did. Once you were done with school, you began to devote your young adulthood to writing. You quickly found a sufficient job and instantly got to work. All you wanted was to do was share your creative visions with the world. You wanted people to feel the passion and emotion that you felt while writing it.

It was a somewhat peaceful day at the shitty office you worked at. You had pulled an all nighter the night before working on a screenplay. Not just any screenplay though. This had to of been your best work yet. It was your ticket out of the slums and to the big leagues. This was your chance.

You sat in your tiny cubicle typing your heart away. Solely relying on caffeine and adderall- which you may or may not have abused from time to time. But this was your livelihood, your purpose in life if you will. The sun had slowly began to set at the office. Many of your fellow peers were chit-chatting about their plans for the weekend. You easily tuned them out as you focused on the writing in front of you. Feeling a wave of tiredness, you popped another pill into your mouth- washing it down with your coffee. The adrenaline and thought of being so close to being finished had you eager and motivated. You almost didn’t acknowledge the loud screech of the building’s fire alarm.

Apparently a fire had broken out and quickly began to ensue absolute chaos within the building. Of course with the building being in a not so fortunate area- the sprinklers had stopped working years ago. While your coworkers scrambled to escape the ever growing deadly smoke and flames, you stayed behind at your desk. You anxiously gnawed at your nails, waiting for your files to download onto a usb drive. You cursed at yourself for getting carried away with writing and not saving throughout the day as you usually did. Your career's future was on that computer. You’d rather die than lose it all.

Unfortunately that’s where your human life had come to a fiery end, engulfed in the flames along with your life’s work. So you assume that’s why you ended up with fiery, crimson eyes and the ability to manipulate fire. Ironic.. in a shitty sorta way. Scratch that… a very shitty way.

After seeing ‘Writers Wanted’ at the end of a VoxTek commercial, your heart fluttered at the thought of pursuing your passion in the afterlife. Hell, you did die for it so you might as well give your death meaning. You quickly memorized the address and beelined it to the VVV tower.

Given your obvious passion for the job, you were immediately hired by a higher up employee, of course with the quick text of approval from Vox. After getting a brief job description, you were over the moon excited. Writing scripts for TV, like are you kidding?? You had spent your entire mortal life trying to get to that point in your career. Who woulda thought all it took was well… your life.

You didn’t have think twice before signing over your soul to the demon overlord. Why would you? Selling your soul in exchange for your dream job was an easy decision. Especially since it came with great pay and an apartment to live in.

As for Vox though, you really never saw him too much. When you did he always gave a charming smile your way which you kindly reciprocated. He was undeniably attractive, even with a TV for a head.

Whilst working at the V tower you were able to meet the one and only adult star, Angel Dust. He quickly introduced you to Cherri Bomb, and boom (no pun intended) your trio of friendship was born.

It’s been a few years since then and that’s how you ended up here, sitting at your desk aimlessly typing away listening to a very whiny spider demon.

“Come onnnn Y/N!! We haven’t gone out in forever and we both have the night off for once” Angel exasperated, throwing his arms up into the air, desperately trying to convince you to go out with himself and Cherri.

You sighed quietly to yourself knowing this wasn’t going to end soon. He had been going on and on about how you work too much and haven’t been able to have fun for the past 20 minutes now. You rubbed your temples and took off your blue light glasses. Quickly closing your laptop and spinning around in your chair, you were met with Angel laying upside down on your bed, with his head hanging off the side.

“Okay! Fine! You win! And you shouldn’t lay like that,” You laughed while leaning down to lightly flick his forehead.

Angel swatted your hand away and sat up. Though you could tell he did it too fast after he placed a hand to his head, feeling dizzy from all the blood rushing back to the rest of his body. All you could do was shake your head and smile at the goof.

“HAHA YES!! I’ll text Cherri and let her know. Now get your ass up outta that chair and get ready! Show them what all of hell’s been missin lately,” He winked and quickly picked up his phone to message the missing piece to our trio.

You rolled your eyes briefly and went into your bathroom to make yourself look presentable.

“Can you find me something to wear pretty pleaseee!” You shouted from the bathroom.

“Oh you know I gotcha toots,” By hearing the muffled tone of his voice you could just tell he was smirking. You had a feeling you’d regret asking for his help but quickly shook the thought away. Angel was right. You honestly couldn’t remember the last time you went out with your two troublemaker friends. It had to of been at least a few months. You needed this.

You deserved this.

With one last glance at your bare, tired face you got to work. Seeing as it had been forever, you decided to go all out. It took only about an hour or so for you to be satisfied with your hair and makeup. Once finished you came out of your bathroom to see Angel was no longer on your bed. However replacing him was the outfit he had picked out for you.

A simple black crop top, the shortest denim skirt you owned, a silver chain belt that connected with hearts, and to top it all off a pair of black chunky heeled boots. He knew you all too well.

After putting on the outfit you stared at yourself in the mirror. You almost didn’t recognize the reflection in front of you. It reminded you of when you were in high school. Sure you were addicted to writing but your living friends were a little bit of a bad influence, much like the ones you have now. They had convinced you to get a fake id so that you could go clubbing with them. And to be honest, you were glad they did. Who would’ve wanted to miss out on a early 2000’s club scene? You had a lot of fun during that time. Yet, that’s the very place you discovered the drug that got you through pretty much the rest of your living life.

A smile began to spread across your face as you checked yourself out. The outfit accentuated every part of your body perfectly. Out of all the time you’ve spent in hell, this was undoubtedly the best you had ever looked. With one last once over in the mirror, you turned off your bedroom lights and went to find Angel.

It didn’t take long to find him sprawled out on your couch with his phone in hand. A VoxTech sitcom played quietly on your tv in the background.

“You ready to go?” He asked without looking up once he heard you enter the living room.

“What do you think?” You questioned him with a coy smile.

He quickly glanced up at you and dropped his phone onto his lap. In an instant he was standing in front of you.

“Holy shit toots! I knew you were good looking but this makes me question my own sexuality,” He said in a teasingly, seductive voice as he twirled you around.

“Shut up loser,” You laughed, shoving his shoulder.

“I’m just speaking the truth! But come on Cherri is already there,”

You turned off everything and locked your apartment. You held onto the door knob for a moment before taking a deep breath and letting go to trail after Angel.

---

It wasn’t long before you and Angel arrived at Club 666, one of the Pride Ring’s most popular clubs owned by your boss’s situationship, Valentino. You never really came across the moth man while you were at work, only hearing stories from Angel Dust. Some of the stories were good but the majority… not so much. It's pretty safe to say, you don't want to cross him while he's in one of his moods.

After climbing out of the cab, your hands found the hem of your skirt almost instantly. You hastily pulled down the short material that had ridden up your thighs on the way there, almost flashing the black lace panties you decided to wear. Once situated outside of the club, hand in hand, you and Angel made your way into the booming club. After fighting your way through the seemingly never ending crowd, you spot Cherri at the bar downing a shot with a group of random sinners, not very surprising.

She perks up at the sight of you and Angel, waving her hand in the air with a toothy grin.

“There you fuckers are! I thought you up and ditched me for a second there,” She said quickly pulling Angel into a tight hug. Once she got to you she paused for a moment with both her hands on your shoulders.

“Holy shit Y/N, you look hot!!” She exclaimed examining every part of you.

“Awe thanks Cherri,” You smiled and brought her into a warm hug.

“Hey! How come when I complimented you earlier I got shoved?!” Angel asked with his arms crossed.

“Because I’m used to your flirty compliments,” You laughed as his pouty expression slowly turned into a sly smile.

He brushed his hair back and huffed out, “Point taken. Alright enough bullshit. Let’s get this party started bitches!”.

---

You had lost track of how many shots you and your friends had taken. You knew it had to of been a lot though with how much the club was spinning. It wasn’t spinning in a bad way though. Sure you’d feel like shit in the morning but at this point you didn’t care. The lights of the dance floor strobed bright green as it flashed through the fog. You felt euphoric and giddy as you danced alongside Cherri.

Angel had ditched you both pretty early on once he noticed Val. He took place under one of Valentino’s lengthy arms. Even in your drunken state, you glanced over a few times to make sure he was okay. And from what you observed he was laughing with a fellow star, taking in the moth’s red smoke. Cherri broke you out of your worry as she tapped on your shoulder.

“I’m gonna go grab another round yeah? Want one?” She slurred with a lazy smile, shouting over the intense music.

You thought for a brief moment before slightly slurring back, "Sure why not!"

You watched as her form slowly disappeared through the sea of dancing, sweaty bodies. Feeling the music, you felt yourself truly let loose. This was the most fun you had in a very long time. A dazed smile found its way across your lips as you swayed your body to the beat of the music. You danced without a care in the world. As if nobody was watching.

However, someone was watching.

From a secluded area of the club, a certain TV demon sat with a drink in one of his clawed hands...

Watching your every move.

///

AHHHH I really hope you guys enjoyed this first part. I wrote it in one sitting... oops XD. Let me know what you think!!

[scientia-rex]

Reasons my life is better this year than last year:

-Umbrella reason: new job

-Work next to doc who consistently laughs at my jokes

-My boss doesn't get passive-aggressive and also doesn't mind profanity

-My boss, despite being straight, fully supports me providing gender care and likes to send me CME opportunities for conferences I can't go to because I can't take time off without a lot of notice but it's still a nice thought that he saw "LGBTQIA+ healthcare" and went "oh I know a doc who does that! she should go!"

-On my other side is an MA I get along with fabulously bc despite having different native languages we both appreciate the importance of snacks, naps, caffeine, and being a little bit snarky

-She always brings me a donut if somebody leaves a box in the break room and she knows I might not see them until they're gone

-My MA sits behind me and is possibly my long-lost twin? Except that she's a foot taller than me, GOD, I wish I was tall, but we're on the same wavelength at all times and we have very similar interests and senses of humor and I love it and I hope she works here until we both retire

-The other people who sit in our room with us vary between a delightful nerd who I only haven't befriended harder bc she has kids and is always making a point of going home to them on time, an older doc who works per diem for us now and taught me how to do greater occipital nerve blocks on a whim and is actually a decent person despite being an old white privileged man, and our dermatology provider who once told a patient I was, and I quote, "cool as fuck," which is funny because I think SHE'S cool as fuck

-Our nurses are the best. Just the literal best. They go all out, on a daily basis, to not only make sure I do the minimal amount of bullshit busy work, but also to make sure patients are getting high-quality care and that they have positive interactions with our clinic, and they never kick a request back to me with "we can't do that," they will always at least ask around to see if someone else knows. I love them. I love them so much I literally sometimes cry about it.

-Our chief referral coordinator is so much fucking fun AND so good at her job. I ask her for things and they just... happen??? She's relentlessly competent and also loves animals and also when I mentioned I need more plants gave me seeds from her double-ruffled hot pink poppies, which I WILL be planting next year.

-Seriously, I love everybody at my new work. It's been 10 months and I feel like a rescue animal, finally starting to creep out of my shell and have a personality, after working at my prior clinic for 4 years (2 in residency) of absolute chronically understaffed passive aggressive toxic workplace hell. Like, I love the providers at my former clinic, I love the support staff, I loved my patients and I loved what I got to do, but there simply weren't enough people and everyone was always being told to do more and more and more with no additional time or resources or compensation, and that was a big part of why I quit--I could see, very transparently, that the administrators didn't give a hot shit about how hard I was working and how I was busting my ass, any time they saw a chance to shaft me out of any benefit, no matter how small, that might save them money.

Life is better this year. I think it's going to be even better next year. I had no idea working in medicine could be this much better. Working in medicine is going to be draining, no matter what you do--but a good, solid, competent administration makes the difference between draining and soul-crushing.