#closet case fic to the extreme for real for real

[figbian]

oooh can we see some of those fences director's cuts 👀👀

yes yes yes!! for those curious here's fences which is um. a time travel fix-it but only in the sense everyone lives... its steve pov which means you get VERY LITTLE info about the plot and whats Actually happening for the other characters, so ive been keeping a "director's cut" as a potential to explain what the hell is going on for everyone else. heres a couple moments from ch1:

“[The dreams] start in early November. Steve can’t remember, at this point, what the first dream is. In his defense, he doesn’t really expect it to happen again. He didn’t know to mark it on the calendar as the first of something important. Steve’s never had that kind of forethought. He’s never had anything happen to him and think: this is going to change my life.” i had the robin/steve scene written pretty much from the beginning. the fic rotates around two scenes: this scene, and the eleven introduction. everything else is just…fic. it’s why i wrote that last line, because the stobin reuniting scene reads: “‘Steve,’ she says, and she’s laughing, and Steve, through his concern and fondness and sudden clarity, thinks, You’re who I was looking for. Steve, for all his lack of foresight, looks at her and knows. Robin Buckley, the weird girl from band who he’s pretty sure is in Nancy’s year—Robin Buckley’s going to change his life.” its all about the stobin, baby! barb in general in this fic is rlly interesting as the foil of eddie in a lot of ways, which kind of makes nancy as steve’s foil… which makes a lot of sense, bcs while this fic doesnt deal w s2 explicitly, it’s most like s2 overall, in that nancy is spiraling bcs of the pretending and steve doesnt know how else to cope. poor barb is coping with her death just like eddie is, and in another version of this fic where it’s nancy pov (which i may very well end up writing) it affects her relationship w nancy in really interesting ways! 

“His hair is shoulder length, for one, and he’s in a flannel. His jeans are black, at least. It’s kind of weird, since Steve can’t actually picture Eddie any other way (maybe he had a buzzed head in middle school? Steve isn’t sure), but it still feels off-putting. Not quite right.” i have a LOT of like. first senior year!eddie thoughts. i spent a lot of time thinking about how ive changed in the past three years, and how i’d changed from 17 to 20, and how that’s been shaped by my surroundings (and how it hasn’t) + how i changed from freshman to senior year. three years is a long time when you’re 17/18. i thought a lot about the kinds of hand-me-downs i received when i was younger & my family was less well off, and kind of matched that w eddie. he receives his leather jacket for christmas from wayne (ill point out the scene where we see it) + in an original draft of fences, he & steve go to the concert where he gets the back patch for his battle jacket in august ‘84. in my mind, he crafts this whole jacket based on the patch (which is cut out from a shirt)––this is loosely based on when my friend made her battle jacket. but ya. in my mind, as eddie fails the more hes like. fuck it. im gonna do what i wanna do. but it also takes time to build a wardrobe, so its still slow going.

Eddie’s got this pleased look on his face. Like Steve passed some sort of test. “You quit or something?” eddie and steve are really interesting (to me) in terms of internalized homophobia. to me. eddie’s always testing steve in fences, seeing how “gay” he’ll go, because eddie still thinks being gay is shameful + assumes steve is ashamed of “gay” behaviors. eddie is simultaneously ashamed of his own “gay” behaviors and ashamed of that shame while expecting it of steve. he thinks he’s mocking steve when he points out what he perceives as “gay” activities, even though what he’s really doing is attacking his own sense of self. i’ll try and point out some instances of this as they come up. meanwhile, steve misinterprets eddie’s internalized homophobia as like. regular homophobia. steve is gay (in that he’s bisexual), and his “gay behaviors” are because of that fact he’s queer, but he’s afraid of eddie noticing because he’s afraid eddie will shun him. steve’s in this really interesting position where he has this half-memory that strengthens over the course of the fic to real knowledge of what it’s like to lose your parents’ support & respect but hasn’t lost that respect yet. he can’t allow himself to be bisexual and keeps trying to “choose” heterosexuality even though that’s not how it works because he’s desperate to get things right this time around and have his parents’ love, even if that means going against what he wants and who he is. for having this dilemma, steve’s parents are notably absent: he will never have their love in the way he craves, and instead what he’s currently experiencing is simply their apathy.

here we go!! with minor spoilers for what will happen next lol... man i miss writing fences so bad! hopefully ill return to it soon bcs its SUCH an interesting piece to write and has made me think so so deeply about the characters and source material. id also like to go back and edit it at some point just to clean up phrasing, fix typos, etc.

[n7punk]

“Somewhere Beautiful, We Can Finally Meet” Fic Notes

Okay the Somewhere Beautiful notes are short and sweet, but the tone of the fic didn’t really match shoving this stuff in the author’s notes as they came up, so here they are.

Playlist:

I made a playlist. There’s a whole fucking playlist, all thematic or even hauntingly fitting that I built up for months.

But it just ended up being The Sex Was Good Until It Wasn’t album on repeat for most of the fic. That’s what spurred me to finally pick this up and write the damn thing for real. I then used the actual playlist when editing. On that note, though, here’s the chapter title sources:

Sick Joke: Ch1-2, Ch4-8

earth eyes: Ch3, Ch10

Monster: Ch7

January: Ch9

Chapter 1:

⦁ Before I posted this fic I posted a snippet of what the abysmal outline doc for this thing looked like with parts censored. What it actually said was “Adora transitions when she picks up the sword And then also the dream connection thing” which was very funny to me because “the dream connection thing” was the entire point of the fic. But I write it like that because I already had the dream connection down back to front and the trans angle came along later.

⦁ The title of this fic is one of those things that just came to me, and I tried to change it to “Somewhere Beautiful, We Can Finally Dream” to indicate the, you know, dream thing, but I just couldn’t do it. That’s what it was meant to be.

⦁ Adora’s She-ra magic is what makes this possible, but also She-ra was inside her all along, right, so when Adora used to be able to dream of Catra rarely, those were real too (at least, usually. She does still have normal dreams too). The transition in the dream color (white > golden white > golden hour/twilight) represents the strength of her connection, both to her magic and to Catra, though the gold never could have happened while in the Fright Zone — she didn’t know gold or warmth as a positive color then.

⦁ When one of them dramatically vanishes, it’s because they just woke up suddenly. In the case of Adora’s speech, Catra woke up crying.

⦁ God writing this part was difficult. Threading the needle between anger, betrayal, and confusion without being transphobic was really hard even though that was far from what Catra was actually trying to do. Intent doesn’t really matter when the result is trying to shove someone back in the closet. There was initially supposed to be more of Catra exploring what this new Adora looked like but the idea also read as fetishistic to me so I cut it. I think I did the best I could here while being realistic to the actual characters.

⦁ I was worried saying “her best friend” all the time would feel a little awkward, but I also try to explicitly avoid deadnames when writing since I am extremely sensitive about mine personally so it’s just one of those things I don’t want to deal with even fictionally. Like, we all know what Adora’s dead name obviously is, but I’m still not doing it.

Chapter 2:

⦁ Catra not having her mask on and also having so much of her soft fur exposed is why Adora immediately had to pet her upon the dream forming.

⦁ The boob touch was a real impulse thought that Adora acted on without realizing because it was a dream and then immediately got embarrassed about even though “it wasn’t real”.

⦁ I could be wrong but I think every bed we see in the Horde is either on the floor directly or a bunk bed.

Chapter 3:

⦁ I’ve mentioned it before but “pre-ordering” is a phenomenon where people question their sexuality after being attracted to a “cis” person who doesn’t fall into their usual sexuality only for that person to later transition and make it all click. Sometimes we just know lol.

⦁ Yeah there’s a way more explicit version of this scene for sure, and the initial outline even called for it, but I didn’t really want to write it, not just because smut doesn’t interest me much, but also because of the weird dream situation.

Chapter 6:

⦁ The original outline actually had Adora getting Catra alone and flirting with her to unveil the truth and then, when Catra started to realize what was being affirmed, Adora kissing her, but yeah, that was NOT it or where Adora’s head was at when we reached this point, and we don’t need even more dubious consent in this thing. They were also supposed to have more ongoing interactions in the dream world post-reveal, but the timeline of the fic didn’t end up working out.

Chapter 7:

⦁ Every word from the start of this chapter forward I wrote in one day on September 14th. Because I am unwell.

Chapter 8:

⦁ Catra used claws on her palm to wake herself up.

⦁ I’m tired of keeping quiet. This isn’t the “dreams au”. In everything on my computer, it’s saved as the “DreamS AU”, if not its full title, the “dream sex au”.

Chapter 9:

⦁ Glimmer was realizing in the conversation with Catra what was going on back in that weird conversation about dreams with Adora in chapter 2. They were both too tired at that point for her to get mad at Adora for keeping it a secret. She definitely follows up on it after the war like GIRL. HELLO? But they are past the anger at that point.

Chapter 10:

⦁ Catra’s sexuality was a weird question mark to everyone when they were growing up because she sets off gaydar like caesium by a geiger counter, but like… she was also clearly obsessed with Adora. Not that it was clear to Adora, but she felt like a few moments came up where they almost kissed, and that confused her even more. So yes, Adora tried not to think of Catra that way too much because she thought she wouldn’t want her to, but neither of them ever could, really.

⦁ I’m not doing a real “Epilogue” section, so I’m just sticking it here: now they’re together IRL and like, actually talking, they “need” the dreams less and they become less frequent, but they’re still a fun thing and they mess around in them sometimes.

⦁ I was honestly really worried about writing/posting this fic because I thought people might take it the wrong way, either because of the consent stuff, or because of how I portrayed Adora’s transition/Catra’s sexuality. The way I convinced myself to write it was by telling myself I didn’t have to post it, so I could get it out of my head and see how it was at the end. I wrote the first two chapters under that idea all the way back in May and then set it down for Slipstream. I picked it up against at the start of September after I’d gotten through all of the Sapphic Septmeber prompts and just needed some editing for them. I wrote it all pretty quickly and was like yeah, I’m lying to myself, I am going to post it but I am nervous about it. I referred to it as a bomb in my fic drafts. At the same time, I knew that for certain people this would become their favorite fic, so fuck it, I just threw those warnings on it about the ambiguity and posted it.

Original Outline:

As I’ve mentioned on my tumblr in the tag where I scream about this fic, I wrote this entire fic in my head multiple times — always while falling asleep at night — without ever writing anything down, so the outline changed every time but the rough shape remained the same. However, the tone was usually (not always) lighter than how the fic ended up. I wrote half of the fic over two days (Chapter 5-6 one day and 7-10 the other) and afterwards I was looking at what I wrote like… do I need to rewrite this? But no, this doesn’t match the version in my head, but the version there can stay there and this one is what’s on the page. Big changes were just that the initial version didn’t include trans Adora, but the angst of her transition via She-ra and Catra taking it as brainwashing had too much opportunity to it for me to ignore. The other was that there was an alternate idea for the “season four” chapter where basically Catra’s lack of sleep leads her to getting sloppy and getting caught by the Rebellion, and the second She-ra takes over custody of her she just… gives up. Asks if she can sleep now. Adora can immediately tell what’s going on and says yes, and Catra passes out in her arms. Diverging so much, either by having Catra a prisoner or begrudgingly defecting to save her ass (and get help retrieving Entrapta, which was the idea) would have completely fucked the pacing of the fic, though, and especially screwed with my season 5 plans because even engineering a way for her to still get captured, Catra wouldn’t have been so sure Adora wouldn’t have come for her then. They needed to stay 100% enemies with no chance to talk things out lol. I still like the vulnerability of Catra, captured by the enemy, just trusting Adora (even if she feels it’s because she doesn’t have a choice) to keep her safe while she finally lets herself sleep because there’s nothing to outrun anymore, but I NEEDED to do that Prime dream scene.

Upcoming:

I have one or two short one-shots I’m working on that might come dripping out over the next month, but… I really want to do the fucking novel I’ve let languish for two years and it’s November, so even if Nanowrimo (the organization) sucks eggs, I going to try to do something for Novelember. It would even out these last two insane months of fic lol. So, I’m probably going on a little bit of a hiatus, still going to try to post every two weeks probably, but we’ll see where muses take me.

[toons-and-doom]

SHRIMPO HCS PLEASSSEEEE IM DYING BECAUSE LACK OF SHRIMPS GRAHAJAAJAJNBDJFNDSKJFS

FOR YOU, SHRIMPO FANS!

This is gonna be long since there’s two requests here-

- Idk what cannon says I think he could be a cool character

- Shrimpo is a pacer (just like me fr)

- he hates everyone and everything just about equally.

- AroAce (just me fr fr).

- tbh I don’t think he genuinely hates everything, he’s just got a extremely short fuse and easily find others horrible.

- bud knows he’s pathetic and the weakest link of any group and copes with it by snapping at everyone rather than face it

- tbh I think he could fare well in a fight it’s just that these twisted just can’t be fought.

- decently strong in the strength department, but he’s to full of himself to use it in any meaningful way

- he’s not comfortable feeling negative emotions like guilt or sadness. He’d rather take them out on others than sit on them.

- Boxten is a frequent target of his because Boxten is (a lot like how Shrimpo used to be) such a loser compared Shrimpo!

- hates colors. Has no favorite color.

- he doesn’t have any friends really. Kids don’t really like him either. He’s kinda lonely (don’t feel bad for him he did this to himself by being a asshole)

- if he had a handler they would have to have the patience of a saint.

- if he actually liked something he’d never outright say it. He’d just sit there in silence and not complain about it.

- on that notes he enjoys head scritches.

- he’d rather die than admit it.

- has a real bad case of resting bitch face

- he’s a bit ticklish. But don’t try it. He’ll clock you.

- somehow both hates himself and thinks he’s the greatest person in the room.

- when he gets twisted, he was twisted while coughing up so much ichor, which why is mouth is obscured. It stained his face.

- I think he regretted his actions as he got twisted because he got twisted alone, hidden in a storage closet, and in a lot of pain. Rage is his primary emotion, but there is also some sadness in there

- prefers sleeping with weighted blankets.

-tbh I think he’s apathetic towards gender as a whole but doesn’t care people referring to him as he.

- Orphan lmao. Had shitty ass older siblings. Skill issue.

That’s it for now unfortunately

Tbh I could stick to a single project I’d make a fic where everyone on the elevator dies on a fucked up cursed first floor and the sole survivor is Shrimpo and he’s forced to go through ✨character development✨ and basically solo

[losersroom]

could u directors cut the conversation of gay90s where it's like "I’ve been thinking about April. You know, before I left." to "“Absolutely,” says Brock, who has never understood anything less in his life"....whatever pieces of that that u want to!! i just love that conversation and would love to hear ur behind the scenes!!!!

GOD so like. alright that whole fic grew out of a conversation me and g were having Forever ago about this post, particularly the second point. and i was like, oh hey, that reminds me of this story i wanted to write about brock going to the gay 90's. and then i sat on it for like two more months.

so the important thing to take away from this is that it was only ever supposed to be that first part, where brock and jonas run into each other and then jonas sucks him off and they kind of subtly agree to not talk about it, the end. but like, i am at heart a gigantic sap and i wrote up to there and realized i couldn't leave it on the final line of. it can never happen again. because i too have been gay and closeted and sad about it, and i didnt want to give all that to brock.

(the other thing, which you didn't ask about but here it is, is like. a lot of these thoughts and attitudes i gave brock in that fic were just... how i felt, about myself and queerness and everything, at age 21/22, born and raised in the midwest. and like obviously i grew up and got over it and i'm extremely queer and trans and married now, and i want to think, hey, in this universe i'm constructing, it can get better for brock, too. we just have to get him there.)

anyway i had to then construct like. a narrative throughline from blowjobs to some sort of mutual understanding. ive said this before but i always think it's fun in these things to like, present brock's opinions and perspective and expectations and just pepper in around the edges hints of what jonas is actually thinking and feeling and doing, which. doesn't always line up. and then make people guess what's going on in his head, same way as brock is guessing. what i HOPE people took from that scene is that, you know, that whole summer brock spent thinking about jonas, jonas was thinking about him, too. trying to work out in his head if brock being there was a one-time thing or if there's an opportunity to have something more. and i DONT want to get into whether or not i think jonas actually has a history in this continuity with any of the people that brock imagines he might, because i think it's more fun to leave people room to draw their own conclusions, but he definitely has more experience with Being Queer In The NHL than brock does, and navigating that world, and being just. careful about it. exercising caution. he might want to mess around with brock again, but he has to approach it with discretion, you know, in case brock... Isn't into that. (but in my heart, because i'm me, i also like to think that jonas is interested because it's brock, not just because he's there and potentially the only one of their teammates available. u know. in my heart everybody's in love, im a romantic, i can't help it.)

so that scene was just intended as like. connective tissue. but it wound up being my favorite part of the entire fic lol. just the... palpable awkwardness of trying to figure out if a guy is interested in you. being on the same page without really being on the same page. and then jonas choosing to just hang out awkwardly and watch a terrible movie at 2 am with brock not just because he cant think of another way to extract himself from the situation now that its clear theyre not going to fuck, but because he sincerely likes spending time with this idiot, lmao. that's Real. that's a move i would have done, when i was dating.

[cullen-rutherford-wifey]

this isn't a fan fic request but what was your journey figuring out your asexual?

Huh wow, I was NOT expecting that ask. By all means though, I do not mind sharing

For me being a sex positive asexual even before I realized. Meant I always wanted without wanting. It was a ruthless dichotomy of desiring a soul mate and affection. Without sexuality or sex factoring into it.

I’ve grown up in an extremely not queer part of Indiana. Conservative af, the best sex Ed we had was abstinence only plus stds. Queerness was shameful, it was behind closed doors or it didn’t exist at all. So I had no idea for the majority of my life asexuality was a label.

Considering how few friends I could make being undiagnosed with anxiety and adhd. Plus with some family shit that was going on at the time. I was extremely lonely and confused; and it pissed me the hell off. I had terrible anger issues cause I was always frustrated with my situation, my mental heath, my wants, my needs. All of which I had no clue of or wasn’t being healthily fulfilled.

Once I started getting real friends, a real group of people who’d listen to me and care about me. Around the age of 17-18, I started finding people who I could relate to. And have better access to the internet to discover other queer people like me. Getting discord, although through complete happenstance. Was the best decision I’ve made; not only have I made life long friendships.

I could find people who lived outside of where I was who’d know about queerness in a more nuanced light. And could help me understand just by simply caring.

Even after all that; I considered myself demisexual. Partially due to lack of relationship experience, but other part I was afraid of being replaceable. Of being unlovable once I adopted the asexual label. And I won’t lie, it’s hard out here as an asexual.

Not only finding people who’re content with your identity and what it means when it comes to sex. But even in the best case scenario when there’s no entitlement to sex or “waiting until you say yes”. It can break a relationship regardless. And I was young, vulnerable, carrying a lot of unprocessed childhood neglect. So that idea terrified me. So I stayed in an even bigger and darker closet when I thought I was Demi.

I do not doubt Demi-sexuality exists and fits people. But for me it was a “compromise” for my future soulmate. Instead of looking inward or understanding what I wanted.

Once I broke up with my boyfriend on good-ish terms, who was sweet about my coming out as ace. Despite the disappointment of that relationship. It was my first love, vital in knowing myself and what I truly wanted. The space of which I’m not used to, and desperately needed.

So my journey to aceness, like a lot of queer peoples. You come out multiple times in your life. Not just to different people, but also to yourself. Knowing who you are, what you want, and who you need your friends to be to become truly whole. Can take a lifetime, and you definitely won’t get it right every time.

I’ve sincerely never been happier and healthier in my life despite my mistakes and the disappointment that came with it. I don’t regret it, I wouldn’t change a thing.

Becoming asexual was a gift, I hope this helps you better understand yourself

💜🖤🩶

[zot3-flopped]

https://alarrytale.tumblr.com/post/736899363953131520/what-was-the-best-thing-that-convinced-you-larry So another one that got brainwashed into the larry cult by those homophobic larries youtube videos. Mixing up real people with fictional gay couples. Marte said her fave fic is that with Harry being a sub to a bully duke Louis. A disgusting historical larries fanfic. Yikes. It is almost 2024 aand Marte's mind in still fixated on that historic fiction soap with a gay couple mixed up with larries manipulation video and similar fanfic. What is even more sad is that Marte said she goes to a psychologist. It isn't helping her obviously. Or whatever mental issues Marte has - she needs more therapy to work through them. Might be she is lying to her psychologist for years too. Therapy hardly works when people refuse to admit they have issues in the first place.

Marte is an extreme case who is beyond help. She is straight but fetishes queer people and queer culture and believes that half of the entertainment industry is closeted and bearding, not just 'Larry'.

[marmolita]

I fell behind on my mag-a-day relisten because of spring break and passover and now it feels like I can't catch up 😩 but I know that's actually just in my head, I'll catch up once I'm back to the routine of kids at school, gym commute time, etc.

In any case I still feel like I'm in some kinda fandom lull, because I wanted to get super into TMA but it felt like the fandom itself generally isn't a good fit for me, personally? like the fic being written is largely not the category of fic I am interested in to the degree that I got annoyed reading it and basically stopped, and then I diluted my enjoyment by too many Q&A/behind the scenes things, and knowing too much about the actors makes the characters less real to me somehow, idk.

Anyway idk why this post is some kind of general fandom life update but here's what's going on lately:

smutswap deadline is today but I posted mine a while back so I'm good there

might pick up a pinch hit for it maybe? I'd like to write something again sometime

really what I need to do is read the book series a friend wrote that I'm 100% certain I will be obsessed with once I start them but I'm somehow mentally blocked from starting

I was rewatching The X Files for a while which was fun!

but then I got distracted by catching up on the seasons of Supernatural I never really watched and now I've been binge watching it

at one point I thought about writing some spn fic but then I realized it would really be a fic used to work out my own issues about being basically a closeted bisexual and I was like you know what, I think perhaps that level of projection plus spn might be a little too cringe even for me! so I didn't write it

my kids have this game called No Thank You Evil which is basically kids' D&D, and I ran a couple campaigns for them with it, and today my kid was like "I want to make up the story myself!" so she's running one for me and my other kid now! my knowledge of how to do any of this is extremely limited so we're all feeling our way around but in any case today we disabled a T-Rex robot and nearly got eaten by an ant. My character is a robot named Fifi with a companion robot dragon. (My other kid is a spy with her actual name with an invisible unicorn-pegasus as a companion! The one running the game is usually a kid named Lucky who has an invisible friend.)

[here2bbtstrash]

party on you (explicit)

genre: SMUT SMUT SMUT with an extremely small side of fluff lol

pairing: hoseok x reader

summary: the only thing stronger than your social anxiety is your big dumb crush on hoseok - and you're certainly not expecting it when he tells you the real reason he threw this album release party.

word count: 9.8k

contains: explicit sexual content aka PORN !!!! idol-verse, literally takes place at the JITB album release party, friends to lovers, erotic hand holding, they're both cute and dumb, a studio hookup 👀 dirty talk, thigh riding, cunnilingus, a single pussy slap lol, taint touching (?), HOBI EATS ASS, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, throat fucking, reader gets a facial, and a lil bit of cum eating, it's cute 😌

A/N: so, hi, i went to hobipalooza lmao. this is actually lowkey a songfic ??? charli xcx was one of the earlier acts on hobi's stage and. my god. seeing her live was a religious experience, and when she performed party 4 u i was like hnnnhghg this should be a fic. and now it is !!!! and i hope u enjoy 🥺🥺 i tried some new stuff in here, both soft and freaky lmao so i'm nervy to share!!! as always your support and feedback means the world to meeeee ok ilysomuch bye~

read on AO3 !

~*~

You collapse back against the cushions of your couch with a soft whine of distress.

The whole thing is really so ridiculous. You told yourself when this started that you could be chill about it. People get crushes every day. It doesn’t have to be a huge fucking deal. You’re a sane, rational adult, perfectly capable of admiring a man quietly from afar while doing your best to be a good friend to him.

And, yes, maybe also obsessing a little too much over what to wear when you hang out, and what to post on Instagram in case he might see it, and dear god, how long his hair is getting. All normal crush things.

But now, as you press your phone to your chest with both hands and sigh forlornly, you wonder if it might actually be possible to yearn yourself to death. To like somebody so much that your heart just fucking explodes. If anyone could be capable of inciting spontaneous combustion, it is absolutely Jung Hoseok.

And he wants you to come to his big fancy party– has specifically sent a day-of reminder text, like you didn’t already receive a formal invitation weeks ago.

You purse your lips, fighting to keep a smile off your face despite being alone in your apartment where no one can perceive you. Hoseok is always so good at keeping in touch, even when he’s in an insanely busy season of his life. You can picture him now, probably bustling around his place in a robe, getting ready while simultaneously sending everyone their own personalized message.

Everyone– when you last chatted about the party, he rattled off enough of the guest list for you to know that easily half the industry will be there tonight. And even Lizzo has gushed about how great of a texter he is. You try to ease yourself off the ledge with the comforting thought that this has to be just one courtesy text of dozens, his pretty painted thumbnails working overtime to send gratuitous emojis out to every idol in the city.

And somehow also to you. Because your big fat crush made you stupid enough to say yes to what is arguably your worst nightmare: A party full of cool famous people, where you will know no one except the guest of honor.

Skipping the party is not an option becomes your internal refrain as the hours tick by. You have to remind yourself of this even more emphatically when you wind up on the floor of your bedroom, having tried on every article of clothing in your closet and having decisively hated it all.

Skipping the party is not an option, you think again, grabbing your phone to check the clock. Your heart sinks when you realize how much time you’ve wasted being an anxious wreck– you had planned to be ready to leave five minutes ago, not laying half-naked on the floor, hair and makeup still undone.

But skipping the party is not an option. A pre-party cry, however, might be on the table.

Pushing yourself up to sit on your heels, you force the tears back while you aimlessly sort through a pile of clothes. You’re barely looking at what’s in front of you, but you pause to do a double-take as your hand passes over a particularly enjoyable texture.

When you manage to extract the item, you realize it’s a dress you’d forgotten about entirely– something a friend made you buy a lifetime ago that you’ve never worn because you’ve always been uncomfortable with how short it is. But it’s smooth baby pink satin, and as different from your usual as it may be, you recall not being mad about the way it stuck to your curves like water.

Fuck it. You’re already late, and if there’s ever a party where you can take a fashion risk, it’s one thrown by Hoseok. You can only imagine what he might have on tonight; it honestly wouldn’t surprise you if he showed up in the same fucking dress.

The thought of seeing him is enough to make your heart leap in your chest, and you do your best to speed through your usual makeup and hair routine despite the way your hands are starting to tremble. By the time you grab your purse and make it out the door, you’re thirty minutes late. That thirty minutes quickly stretches into a full hour before you’re stepping off the elevator onto the 19th floor of HYBE headquarters, feeling like an asshole.

Gorgeous idols and various other famous people stream in around you, dressed in clothes that appear casual but you’re sure cost double your monthly rent payment, looking less than unbothered about showing up late. You do your best to slip in unnoticed and stick to the perimeter of the massive room, feeling like an absolute fraud.

Thankfully it’s only a few steps before you find a table taken up entirely by pre-filled flutes of champagne, and you eagerly grab one, mostly just grateful for something to do with your hands.

It occurs to you how little you know about celebrity culture, because the party doesn’t even seem to have started yet: early 2000s R&B is bumping through the speakers, and it feels like every few minutes the elevator chimes to let another group of people trickle into the space. You find an unoccupied section of wall to lean against as you sip your drink slowly, hoping that if you try hard enough, you might actually manage to become one with the wallpaper.

Tipping your head back for another sip of champagne, you nearly choke at an unexpected voice from over your shoulder.

“You look like you hate parties as much as I do.”

You manage to not inhale your drink, instead giving a polite smile as your eyes drift across the crowded room. You’re too nervous to immediately steal a glance at whoever is speaking to you, though you’re sure it just makes you seem rude. “Hate isn’t exactly it.” You have nothing against parties, or people who enjoy them. “I just… haven’t figured out what I’m supposed to be doing, exactly.”

“I think talking to people is generally expected,” the voice quips. “So, hey, you’re doing great already. Keep it up and they might even think you’re an extrovert.”

You exhale a soft laugh, a slight heat of embarrassment creeping up your neck.

“But Hobi said I didn’t have to meet and greet if I didn't want to. So I’m taking that as full permission to enjoy free alcohol and read webtoons on my phone.”

Your gaze snaps over at the familiar nickname, and your mouth goes dry as you realize you’ve been casually conversing with none other than Kim Seokjin, who is absentmindedly fiddling with the thin green strap of the bag slung over his shoulder.

Fuck. Embarrassing yourself in front of random famous people was exactly what you were trying to avoid when you picked this wall to lean against. You’d figured the other members would all be out mingling in the center of things, not hiding in a corner. Who knew celebrities were just like you?

“I-I’m sorry,” you stammer, immediately dropping your gaze to avoid making eye contact when Jin looks up. He probably assumed you’d sidled up next to him on purpose, like some kind of creepy fan. “I’ll leave you alone, I actually really didn’t mean to–”

You glance up again only to realize Jin is laughing, shoulders shaking slightly.

“Wow, I’m so bad at this. That wasn’t me telling you to fuck off. I was just trying to sympathize.” He gestures lazily towards the stage at the front of the room. “Thankfully it looks like you don’t have to suffer my conversation any longer.”

A Jack in the Box graphic has started to flash, projected onto the screen. After a few seconds, the image stills, and a spotlight clicks on, following Hoseok as he emerges from backstage. You lean forward to set your drink on the closest table so you can join in the applause for him.

Hoseok looks as effortlessly cool as he always does, but even more so tonight, like someone has cranked his charisma up to the max setting. A real fucking popstar, a rockstar, even: baggy clothes, multiple layers of necklaces, chunky black boots, dark hair pushed back with a few strands falling into his eyes. He somehow even manages to make wearing sunglasses indoors look cool– probably because they’re immediately offset by the wide, sweet grin of his mouth as he addresses the crowd. You can hear that he’s nervous by how hard he’s trying to keep his voice even, and it’s enough to make you feel the flutter of butterfly wings in your throat.

As you pick your drink back up for another sip, you can’t help but wonder if Jin can literally see the hearts in your eyes, or a nervous little teardrop floating above your head like an anime character. You do your best to hide your smile behind your glass.

“J-Hope is pretty cool, huh?”

You bite down on your bottom lip, answering Jin’s question with a shy nod.

Hoseok descends the stage as the lights lower, and then the album intro is starting and there’s no more time for conversation. You watch from across the room as he drops down on the large built-in stairs next to Jungkook, who immediately wraps a supportive arm around his waist while Hoseok laughs like he’s embarrassed. You’ve always been in total awe of the way Hoseok can light up and command the energy of a room easily, then squirm away from it at the next second.

Jin gets waved over and gives you a small nod as he departs, and then you’re alone again with the champagne in your hand and the wall against your back and Hoseok’s music thrumming through your nervous system.

The album is nothing like you expected– you didn’t know what to expect, really– and you absolutely love it. You’ve always felt like you have a stupidly limited vocabulary when it comes to talking about music, particularly around Hoseok, but even you can manage to string together the thought that these songs are fucking special.

But then again, so is he.

In what feels like the blink of an eye Hoseok is taking the stage again to giggle through his thanks, bent slightly at the waist in overwhelmed appreciation, and then the pop playlist is switched back on and the lights are dimmed and you suddenly feel your palms start to slick up against your champagne flute.

You can’t help but wonder what the fuck you’re supposed to do now.

The obvious choice would be to finally go talk to Hoseok, but of course, he’s the man of the hour, so every other person in the room seems to have the same idea. You choose to hang back and watch as he weaves through the growing crowd, putting on a bored expression to pose for pictures, laughing excitedly as people shake his hand and speak to him in hushed tones, and flashing thumbs ups and peace signs left, right and center.

It looks exhausting, you think to yourself with a small smile. And this is why you’re not famous.

For the second time tonight someone manages to sneak up on you, and this time it’s accompanied with a gentle call of your name. You nearly drop your drink as you whip around.

When you find yourself face-to-face with Park Jimin, it takes a few seconds for you to remember how to close your mouth. What is going on?

“I thought that was you.”

You double-blink, unable to find any words at all. You have never met this man before in your life. Seen him dozens of times on your TV screen, sure, but certainly never formally introduced.

“I’m Jimin,” he says, and you have to swallow the urge to giggle in his face because, yeah, no shit.

“Hi, Jimin.”

“Hoseok is going to be excited that you’re here.” Jimin scrunches his face up a little, like he knows he shouldn’t be telling you this. “He kept asking me if I thought you would show or not. He really wouldn’t shut up about it.”

You find yourself stammering again, trying to figure out how the hell to respond. Why, out of everyone on the guest list, would Hoseok be concerned about you? And he’s talked to Jimin about you enough for him to know who you are, that he can recognize you on sight alone? Your head starts to spin, despite the fact that you’re only halfway through your glass of champagne.

“Since you don’t like parties,” Jimin says, like it’s common knowledge, as if it’s totally normal for this very busy and famous kpop idol to keep tabs on your socialization preferences.

You nod dumbly. “I, yeah. I’m just not very good at them.”

Jimin nods, pushing up the sleeves of his white Chanel sweater. “You just have to get comfortable with talking to people about boring shit. Did you try the food?”

You shake your head– the very thought is enough to make you feel a little sick. “I get, like, a nervous stomach?” You hate that it comes out like a question when it clearly isn’t.

“Aish, you and Hoseok are so alike,” Jimin rolls his eyes, hands on hips, but you can see he’s smiling a little. “I haven’t been able to get him to eat anything all day. And we ordered so much food, I don’t even know why. Like half the people in this room aren’t on fucking diets.”

“Jimin-ah!”

Both of your heads snap up at the sound of Namjoon’s voice from the other side of the room, distorted slightly by the thudding bass.

“Ahh, they’re doing pictures,” Jimin says with an exaggerated sigh, like it’s just so hard being desirable and photogenic. “Do you want to get a photo?”

You shake your head as emphatically as possible. “No, nope, absolutely not.”

Jimin pauses, squinting at you for a second in a way that makes you think that if you were closer friends, he’d be dragging you across the room regardless of your answer to the question. You watch as he clearly attempts to restrain himself.

“Well, don’t drink too much on an empty stomach, okay? I’ll make you a to-go plate of food before you leave.” He starts to walk backwards away from you, raising his voice a little so you can still hear him. “And please talk to Hoseokie when we’re done! Maybe then he’ll calm the fuck down!”

You can’t hide the smile that blooms across your face, and Jimin wiggles his eyebrows for emphasis before turning around and pressing his way through the crowd to the photo wall.

The members take turns passing Hoseok around, punctuated by the snap of the camera: pinching his cheeks, leaning into him, clinging to his shoulders, wrapping an arm around his neck. You laugh out loud when Taehyung hikes a leg up high on Hoseok’s hip and tips back, a hand draped across his forehead, eyes shut, so fucking dramatic.

Hoseok stares down the camera like a professional, only to immediately dissolve into giggles between shots, tongue poking out between his teeth like he can’t quite handle all the attention. It’s enough to have you nearly fighting for your life.

The members crowd in for a few group shots, posing cutely until Jimin finally waves everyone back off to the dancefloor. He keeps Hoseok behind with one hand gripping his bicep, and your heart drops into your stomach when Jimin leans in to whisper something in Hoseok’s ear.

Oh, fuck.

You try to calm yourself down, reasoning that he could be talking about any number of important things, but then Jimin pulls Hoseok’s sunglasses off his face, turns him unmistakably in your direction, and gives his shoulders a hard push. It’s clear Hoseok doesn’t quite know where he’s going as he stumbles forward and squints at the party lights, so you throw back the last of your champagne for some assistance, set the empty flute on a table, and force yourself to be brave.

You run your palms nervously over the sides of your dress, trying to focus on the feeling of smooth satin as you cross the room to meet him.

“Hobi.” His eyes find yours and you watch as his face, still in party mode— all perfect straight lines and severe grace and supermodel apathy— softens, brightens.

“Oh thank god, you made it,” Hoseok huffs a disbelieving laugh. “Come here.”

He pulls you in for a hug, not the lazy one-armed greetings you’ve seen celebrities give each other all night but a real, solid embrace, both arms crossed firmly over the small of your back. You press your nose into the crook of his neck, the thin fabric of his tank top brushing against your skin. Heat radiates off of him in waves, and he smells so good, like expensive cologne. It’s dizzying.

“Hi,” you murmur, and it’s punctuated with a soft giggle when you realize you’re speaking directly into his collarbone. You move to extract yourself, but his grip tightens.

“Five more seconds,” Hoseok says with another half-laugh, and you gladly allow yourself to melt back into his arms.

He sounds slightly hoarse, you notice, probably from talking all night. You think for easily the millionth time that you have no idea how he does it, but this moment of softness makes you wonder if being the life of the party is a little more difficult than he lets on.

Hoseok hums a little, and the feeling rumbles through your chest, buzzing all the way down to your fingertips like an electric current. When he finally releases you, it’s with a soft sigh, something that almost sounds like reluctance. Your heart backflips at the thought.

The lights flash waves of rainbow color over his face, each one painting his perfect features with a slightly different energy: pink, blue, orange, green. You momentarily forget how to talk, but Hoseok doesn’t miss a beat.

“Are you having fun?”

You nod as decisively as you can. “I’m just awkward, but that’s not your party’s fault.” He giggles, gaze flitting nervously around the room, as you continue. “Seriously, it’s a great party. And I’m not just saying that because you have free booze.”

“Did you want more?” He asks quickly, then seems to think better of it. “Or, well, how much have you had? Do you need water?”

You smile a little despite yourself. “I’m fine, Hobi, thank you. You have better things to do tonight than look after me because I nursed a single glass of champagne. And besides, Jimin already tried to mother hen me earlier.”

A look of serious anguish crosses Hoseok’s face, and he glances back over his shoulder, but Jimin has evaporated into the crowd of beautiful people. “God, I specifically told him to leave you alone.”

You shrug. “It’s not a big deal. He was sweet.”

Hoseok’s gaze lands back on you, and it feels like your chest lights up from the inside out. You almost can’t look directly at him– it’s not unlike staring into the sun. You blink up at him once, twice, more than dazed, and then he laughs again, nose scrunching slightly as if to cringe at himself.

“Agh, I feel awkward. I don’t know what to say.”

You’re smiling, too. “That’s okay,” you say, because it is. You’re perfectly content to just stand here with him, unconcerned with the chaos of the party around you.

“I’m really glad you’re here.”

“Me too.”

“And– well, I guess you’ve never been here before, right? Can I give you a tour? I can take you downstairs and show you my studio.”

Your cheeks start to burn from all the questions, from how fixed his gaze is on you. It’s overwhelming. “Hobi, this is literally your party. You should stay here. I was doing fine holding up the wall over there.”

“Come on, I really want to. Please?” He leans in towards you slightly, glancing around as if to make sure he’s not being overheard. When he speaks into your ear, his voice drops to a lower register for privacy, and you can’t ignore the chills that dot up your spine. “I can’t talk to one more person that isn’t you right now.”

You nod, every nerve ending in your body now hyper-aware of how very close he is to you. “If you’re sure. I’d like that.”

“Thank you,” he says softly, and you breathe a soft giggle at how ridiculous it is that he’s the one thanking you at this moment. Before you even realize what he’s doing, his hand finds your hand, delicate fingers intertwining with yours. The skin of his palm is soft and warm. “Let’s go.” He chases the words with a gentle squeeze.

Hoseok leads you into the elevator and presses the button for a lower floor. You’re a little surprised when he slumps back against the wall with a heavy sigh as the doors close, still holding your hand.

“Oh, I’m tired.” He says quietly, almost like he’s talking to himself rather than to you. “It just hit me now. That was a lot.”

You squeeze his hand back, and his eyes flutter open to look at you. You press yourself up against the wall next to him. “You sound like me after any social event. And here I was thinking all night that you made it look so easy.”

Hoseok smiles. “I’m good at faking it. But I always collapse after stuff like this.” His eyes drift away from you and he stares into the empty space in front of him, his expression darkening slightly. “I just really hope they liked it. It’s so hard to tell what people think, or who’s only bullshitting you when they tell you it’s good. I’d rather they be honest with me.”

“Well, if it means anything, I loved it.” You say softly, your eyes searching his face. “And I’m not a bullshitter.”

Hoseok blinks, then nods once, his eyes not meeting yours. “You’re not. I appreciate that.”

The chime of the elevator seems to snap him somewhat out of his headspace, and he tugs on your joined hands to pull you through the doors as they slide open. “It’s just at the end of the hall.”

There’s something about Hoseok that comforts you all the way to your core, laps gently at the edges of your shyness until it recedes a bit. He just makes you feel like you can say anything without fear of judgment. Conversation comes easier with him, like this.

“How do you feel about it?”

“The album?” He asks.

You shrug. “Everything.”

“I’m very nervous,” Hoseok answers immediately with a bright peal of laughter, squeezing your hand again for emphasis. “I’m working really hard but… it all feels like uncharted territory. It’s so different to do it alone.”

His eyes jump from studio door to studio door as he leads you down the hallway. “I don’t know if people are going to like this side of me or the things I have to say. I don’t know if anyone will still care now that it’s just me. And ugh, I’m so unsure about the music festival. I’ve never done a whole show on my own before. I practice so much every day and I still don’t know if I can do it. Or if it will be any good.”

When he stops you outside of the final door at the end of the hallway, he seems to remember himself. “Wow, look at me. You were probably only being polite and I threw so much at you. This is just what goes around in my head. Every day and every night.”

“You sound stressed,” you say softly.

Hoseok purses his lips for a second. “I guess. I just really want to do well. I don’t want to disappoint anyone. I would– what?”

It isn’t until he asks the question, regarding you with a confused expression, that you realize you’re shaking your head. The smile that has crept across your face is a mixture of disbelief and appreciation.

“I’m sorry,” you’re practically laughing. “Please, keep going.”

“No, no, what is that face?”

You chew on the corner of your lip, trying to figure out the best way to word it. “I just… I don’t want to dismiss your concerns, because I absolutely understand all of them. And I would be shitting a brick, no question. But you…” Hoseok’s eyes widen a little as you pause, drinking him in, the way concern tugs down the corners of his mouth. “You just have no idea. No idea what it’s like to watch you from out here. And I wish you could see yourself the way I do.”

He pauses as if to consider your words. “What do you see?”

You don’t even have to think about the answer. It feels as steady and honest as the beat of your heart behind your ribs. “I see a fucking star. I see somebody who was born to do exactly what he’s doing. And, I mean, I think being nervous is a good thing, and I don’t say this to try and invalidate how you’re feeling at all. But I don’t see any possible future where you don’t succeed, Hoseok. It’s just... not an option. You’re going to get up there and kill it, I know you are. Because it’s you.”

Hoseok’s hand slips out of yours, and you can feel the warmth of his palms as he presses them to your waist to pull you close. Anticipation sparks through you. His eyes search yours intently, like he’s looking for something. “You really feel that way?”

“Completely. There’s no doubt in my mind.” Your gaze drops to his mouth, the way his full lips are parted slightly, and it occurs to you that maybe you’re talking about more than one thing now. “It feels predestined, to me… I don’t know. Inevitable.”

Hoseok makes a soft noise as he continues to close the distance between you. “Inevitable?” You tilt your chin up towards him, every cell in your body humming. “Like this?”

The way he kisses you is so gentle and sweet, you swear your heart leaps into your throat. You allow a second, maybe two, to move your mouth against his and get lost in it, and then you force yourself to break away, your mind reeling.

“I’m sorry,” he says automatically. “I’ve been wanting to do that all night.”

“Hoseok,” you murmur, eyes squeezing shut as you attempt to navigate the discomfort of being vulnerable. “I– you should know that I really, really like you.”

“Really?”

The shock in his voice makes your eyes snap open again, and you can’t help but make a face of utter disbelief. “I thought it was obvious.”

“Looks like I’m not the only one who doesn’t realize how other people see me. You’re actually very hard to read.” Hoseok slips one hand off of your waist to push down on the door handle behind you, then gestures for you to step through. He keeps talking as he follows in after you, letting the door shut behind him. “I second-guess myself all the time with you. Jimin is so fucking tired of hearing about it.”

“Wow,” you say dumbly. “I had no idea.”

“You didn’t even text me back about tonight! I had no idea if you were coming.”

You start to laugh as the realization washes over you: you’d been so busy sighing forlornly and stressing about what to wear, you’d forgotten to actually reply to his messages.

“Okay, this time was actually an accident. But…” You sweep your gaze over his studio, trying to think. “I don’t know, I just always feel like I’m bothering you. Your life is so big and important. Even now: you should be upstairs being the star of your own party. Not down here with me.”

Hoseok shakes his head immediately. “I don’t want to talk to anyone up there the way I want to talk to you. I was such a wreck today when you didn’t answer.”

You can’t believe what he’s saying, even as he takes a step in towards you, his mouth invitingly close to yours again. “Why? I am quite literally the least important person on the guestlist.”

“Because,” Hoseok pauses for a second, then sighs. “I like you, and I was scared that you’d decided not to come, when I…” He’s practically grinning, and the tell of his scrunched up nose makes you realize– he’s embarrassed. “I threw this whole party just to have an excuse to see you.”

Your jaw drops open. “You what?”

“Please don’t make me say it again.”

“Hobi.” You both start to laugh as you stare in disbelief, trying to process the most ridiculous statement you’ve ever heard in your life. “You could have just called me.”

“I tend to overthink these things.”

He’s close enough that you barely have to move to slide your hands up his chest and grip the lapels of his white button-down.

“I think I can help with that,” you murmur, and then you tug him back down into a kiss that makes your head spin.

The sweet nervousness of your first kiss has been replaced with urgency now, Hoseok’s mouth moving over yours like he’s hungry for it. You tug gently on your fistfuls of his shirt to move him towards you, stumbling backwards until you find purchase against the door of the studio.

Hoseok moves skillfully, tongue licking into your mouth while one of his strong thighs shifts to tease your legs apart and press between them. The quick succession of the two is enough to make your breath hitch, and it seems to encourage him more. The rough denim of his jeans grinds into your center, and your already-short dress has ridden up enough that the pressure drags hot sparks right over your core.

Your jaw goes slack as your focus slips, and you tip your head back against the door with a soft whine, circling your hips for more friction. “Fuck, Hoseok.”

His lips drop down to the exposed skin of your neck. The warmth of his mouth has your back arching, your nipples rubbed into stiff peaks under the thin fabric you couldn’t wear a bra with.

“You look so fucking good tonight,” Hoseok groans. “Driving me crazy in this little dress.”

There’s the soft brush of a hand on your thigh, and he teases the hem of your dress up higher and higher as your hips keep moving; his tongue darts out to lick a languid stripe over your collarbone. His other hand slides up from your waist to cup your breast over satin, deftly rolling the bud of your nipple between his long fingers, pinching with just enough pressure to coax a moan out of you.

“I like the sounds you make. Don’t want you to be shy with me.” Hoseok murmurs over your skin before he starts to suck deliberately at your neck, right on your pulse point. You couldn’t stifle the sound his mouth pulls from you even if you wanted to.

With all your attention drawn to grinding your clit against his leg and the warmth of his palm cupping your breast, your grip on the fabric of his shirt has loosened. Moving in a haze of pleasure, your hands fumble at his denim jacket, attempting to push it down his shoulders. Hoseok pulls back slightly when he realizes what you’re doing, though his fingers still lazily squeeze at your nipple.

“Let me just– hang on–” Hoseok untangles himself from you entirely with a sheepish grin, and you take the moment to collect yourself, your chest heaving in shallow breaths. You can feel the way your panties are soaked through as you press your thighs together, desperate for continued friction.

He’s moving quickly as he slips out of his oversized jacket and button down beneath it. You can clearly see the wheels in his head turning as he lays the pieces over the back of his desk chair, then immediately scrunches his face up as if to think better of it.

“Agh, sorry, sorry, one second–” Hoseok shakes out the jacket, then the shirt, folding both in quick yet precise succession before stacking the neat rectangles together and gently setting them on the small couch next to his desk.

Even in the dim studio lighting you can see his face is flushed pink with embarrassment as he returns to press you back against the door.

“I just– I don’t want wrinkles,” he says softly, and you’re very grateful that you no longer have to suppress the urge to take his face in your hands and kiss him.

“I like you so much,” you giggle into his mouth, and it’s punctuated with a squeak when his hands slide down to firmly grab your ass. The fabric of your dress is so thin that it hardly feels like it’s there at all.

Hoseok must have the same thought, because he releases his grip only for as long as it takes to push the skirt of your dress up over your ass; now there’s nothing separating his fingers from your skin when he squeezes you again.

“Like you,” he agrees, his voice husky. “Want to taste you.” Your core aches for his touch, clenches around nothing when he releases his grip and cracks a hand over the soft flesh of your asscheek.

“Please, Hobi.”

You find his mouth with yours again for a needy taste of a kiss, tongues sliding together. Your arms wrap around his shoulders in an attempt to pull him impossibly closer.

In one swift move he presses you flush against the door, and his hands slip to hitch your legs over his waist before moving back to your ass, hoisting your hips up to properly straddle him. You whimper at the grind of his erection through his jeans, right over your rubbed-sensitive center, and at the thought that he could fuck you just like this, up against this door.

Hoseok’s mouth doesn’t leave yours as he turns and carries you the short distance across the room, hands sliding to your hips so he can set you down on the desk. His lips are full and kiss-bitten red when he pulls back to look at you, pupils blown dark with lust.

“Sure this is okay?”

You meet his gaze, reaching up to dust strands of hair out of his eyes. His mouth chases the heel of your hand so he can press those soft lips into the center of your palm, chaste and sweet. 

“It’s so much more than okay,” you murmur.

He’s smiling as he leans forward for another kiss, only pulling back to press his forehead to yours once you’re both breathless. “I have wanted to do this for so fucking long. You have no idea.”

His hands hook under the backs of your thighs to scoot you gently forward until you’re perched at the very edge of his desk, and then he sinks to his knees. Your legs that were slipped around his waist find new purchase thrown over his shoulders and you tense a little when your high heels scrape over his back.

“I can take these off,” you start, but he’s already shaking his head as his palms encourage your thighs apart.

“I like it.”

You’re nearly gasping for breath with anticipation as his long fingers slip under the band of your panties and you lift your hips up so he can pull them down. You manage to extract one leg to drape back over his shoulders, leaving the lacy fabric to dangle off the other as you open up for him.

Hoseok’s thumbs press to either side of your pussy, gently spreading your lips apart to admire how soaked you already are. Anyone else examining you like this would have you squirming away self-consciously, but there’s just something about Hoseok that’s different. You want him to know every part of you fully, intimately.

“God, you are so gorgeous.” His breath is hot over your skin, makes your cunt tighten needily as if to beckon him closer.

You lean back to brace your forearms on the desk behind you and Hoseok’s gaze jumps up to meet yours. He doesn’t drop eye contact as he leans forward to press an open-mouthed kiss to your slit, both of you groaning at the contact.

His mouth moves just as it did against yours, and you let your eyes flutter closed as pleasure sears through you like a hot knife. Hoseok grunts a little, low in his throat when he adds tongue to his kisses, licking softly but deliberately to part your slick folds.

“Hobi,” you whine, rolling your hips up into him as he starts to apply more pressure with his tongue. “Fuck, ah, feels so good.”

Hoseok pulls off of you with a throaty gasp, like maybe he was so focused on eating you out that he didn’t quite remember to keep breathing. When you look down at him, his lips are wet and glossy, spread in a wide smile. “You taste so fucking good.”

You don’t even have time to ask for more before he’s hooking his biceps around your thighs and tugging your hips towards him, pulling you even closer to bury his face between your legs. This time he licks a stripe straight up to your swollen clit, pulling the bud into his mouth to suck on.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, digging your nails into the desk beneath you as sparks shoot through you and your clit twitches in his mouth.

Hoseok hums steadily around you, as if to once again encourage you to be vocal. He starts to nod his head as he sucks, his nose pressed flush against your pubic bone. Your hips fall in time with his rhythm, grinding back down on him.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you whimper. “Shit, Hobi.” Your voice catches on a dazed, disbelieving laugh. “You’re gonna make me come if you keep doing that.”

He doesn’t let up, squeezing his grip on your thighs that much tighter when you start to quiver beneath him. Your arousal coils tight and hot in your core as he works more not-so-shy noises out of you, breathy moans, needy whines.

You cling desperately to the edge of his desk, teetering equally on the edge of your own release. The wet slick wash of his tongue is lush, decadent, lapping at your clit between pulses of suction, and it’s all too fucking much.

“Yes, Hoseok, fuck!”

You cry out, your heels digging into the hard plane of Hoseok’s back as he works an intense, shuddering orgasm out of you. Your cunt throbs over and over as you come, a rush of arousal painting the crux of your thighs.

When you catch your breath it’s in uneven, shaky gasps, and the movement of your hips sharpens into jolts as you become hypersensitive to Hoseok’s mouth. He releases you almost reluctantly, still hovering close, continuing to dart his tongue out to gently lick up your folds.

“I don’t want to stop,” he says with a shy, blossoming laugh, the light catching the shine of his lips and chin when he glances up at you.

You’re dazed, beyond blissed out, unable to believe that any of this is real. You like him so much.

“Can I keep going?”

Just that sentence is enough to make you tighten all over again with anticipation. “I–” you laugh a little too despite yourself. “I want that. But I think my clit needs a second.”

Hoseok’s touch is featherlight as he circles a digit lower, over your entrance, as if to ask permission. “What about here?” Your pussy lips twitch even under so gentle a touch, but you ache for more; you like that it’s overwhelming.

“Yeah, yes. There, please, fuck,” you babble. He’s added a second finger to tease now, and you whimper when they finally press together into your sensitive cunt.

Hoseok is watching his fingers intently, and you can hear the way your pussy squelches as he pumps them slowly, can feel the tremors of your orgasm still shuddering through you, causing slick to drip from your center. You can only imagine what his view must be like, how you must look: dripping, needy, trembling for him, fingers gripping the desk and head lolling back.

“So pretty,” he murmurs, his voice low and soft, and then he dips his head down to lap below your entrance, tasting the juices that have leaked out of you. He pulls back to smack his other hand over your whole cunt, light enough that you barely feel the tap, but just the visual of it makes you squirm beneath him.

“So cute,” he smiles. His fingers rub circles into your front wall, becoming more insistent, and you breathe in shaky waves as you start to grip tightly around him.

“Hoseok,” you breathe, letting your eyes drop closed. Arousal blossoms through you like a heavy weight, your second climax already building, when you feel his other hand cup the join of your ass and thigh.

A soft whimper spills out of you as Hoseok starts to massage below your entrance, thumb working at a new bundle of nerves, like nothing you’ve ever felt. It’s pleasure that makes you hot all over, makes the muscles in your legs shiver and tense when it’s paired with the crook of his fingers still working your pussy.

“Fuck,” you pant, “Hobi, what are– that feels so–” You’re starting to lose a grip on your words, sentences going incoherent as your head spins. It’s hard to think over all the sensation, the way your body is lit up like a live wire, and the sound of your cunt gushing around him as he fucks into your g-spot.

“Has anyone touched you here before?” He asks softly, thumb tapping at the thin bridge of skin between your pussy and your ass. His head dips down for a chaste kiss there, then a second, adding a languid lap of tongue.

“N-no,” you whimper, toes curling in your shoes as he continues to drag his tongue over this delicate, sensitive place. “Keep going.”

Hoseok pulls back, a string of saliva still connecting him to you, and he lets it loose with a swipe of his hand over his mouth. His fingers slip out of you as he pairs a question with a smile. “Turn over for me?”

Your legs would be shaking even if you weren’t in fancy party heels, and you do your best to be graceful as you unsteadily spin, one arm keeping the fabric of your dress hiked up over your hips.

“Brace yourself on the desk,” Hoseok instructs, and you do, leaning forward until your stomach and forearms are flush with the wood, your bare ass hanging off the desk, presented for him. You spread your legs apart again and can feel the way your pussy drools arousal down your thighs. “That’s it,” he coaxes.

His fingers massage firmly into the flesh of your asscheeks, and your back arches up as you groan at the feeling. He spreads you just a little, enough for cool air to tease at your slick center; your hips wiggle towards him on instinct.

“Pretty back here, too,” he murmurs. “Tell me how it feels, okay? Won’t do it if you don’t like it.”

You clench for him in both places, even your fists grip tight in the fabric of your dress. “I’ll like it. Please, baby.”

“Baby,” Hoseok repeats back with a shy exhale. “I like that. I like you.” He leaves a sweet kiss pressed halfway up your thigh.

“Hobi–” you choke out a whine of his name as his breath ghosts over you, hands still firmly keeping you spread. His tongue returns to your perineum again, licking a hot, slow stripe that keeps moving up, up, until you feel the tease of warmth and wetness over your ass. “Oh, fuck.”

You’re so sensitive here, just the lightest drag of his tongue over your rim makes you moan, feet kicking listlessly as pleasure shudders through you.

“It’s good–” you manage to whimper, voice muffled slightly as your forehead drops against the desk, too, your whole body pinned down by his mouth. “–ngh, really good, Hobi.” Your cunt throbs when he does it again, as he falls into a consistent pace of long, steady laps that set off fireworks behind your eyes.

The ache in your core begs for touch, friction, and you oblige needily, tucking a hand under the weight of your hips pressed into the desk, a sweat-slicked palm for your mouth-wet clit.

Hoseok doesn’t miss a thing. It’s only for a second that he pulls off of you, but you whine at the loss of his tongue, sated slightly by the gentle brush of his lips over the small of your back. “Gonna get yourself off while I eat you out?”

You grind a circle down with your hips, hissing at the white-hot pulse against your hand. “Yes, baby, please.”

He doesn’t need any more encouragement to dive back in, fingers gripping harder to spread you and tongue licking deliberately, tracing patterns that work more arousal out of your pussy. You’re unraveling fast from humping against your palm, hips jolting forward to make your clit twitch and backwards to press towards Hoseok’s mouth.

You’re already wound so tight that you’re too desperate for words, reduced instead to little breathless gasps– “ah, ahh”– as you speed up the rub of your hand, your hips. Hoseok’s tongue never falters, firm pressure laved over and over your sensitive, flexing ass.

With a soft hum of effort, you feel him press a little harder, tongue barely dipping in past your tight ring of muscle, and the sweet stretch of it is the final push you need.

You roll your clit just right over your palm a final time and then you’re shaking and moaning as everything starts to pulse. The all-over clench pushes a fresh wave of fluid from your cunt, rolling down the backs of your thighs, fat droplets of arousal that Hoseok chases with sloppy kisses as the waves of your orgasm shudder through you.

It takes a moment before you can say anything, do anything, limbs too heavy and brain too fucked-out dumb. You do your best to slide gracefully off the desk, but your legs shake with aftershocks that betray you, and you stumble.

Hoseok is quick to wrap his arms around you and guide your hips down to the floor next to him. You collapse in a heap of giggles, him tangled over your waist, the skirt of your dress still pushed up, your bare ass on his studio carpet.

“Are you okay?” Hoseok laughs, and you bury your face in the fabric of his tank top as an answer, not convinced your coherency has returned to you yet.

“Too good,” you murmur, words slurring. “Fucked me too good.”

“You’re so hot.” You can tell he’s blushing just by the tone of his voice, and you start to come to a little, slow-blinking back to reality and rolling over to look up at him. His dark eyes shine as he smiles. You don’t want to come all the way down from this dazed, happy place yet, you realize, and you curl a finger into the loop of his jeans, tugging him closer.

“My turn.” Your hands start to fumble to undo his belt buckle. His jeans are oversized, but not enough to obscure the print of his hard cock pressed against his thigh.

“Let me take you home,” he says softly, running a fingertip along your jaw. “This should be– I want you to be comfortable. I want it to feel good.”

“It all feels good,” you say earnestly, sitting up to tug at the button of his jeans, undeterred. “And you can take me home. But you’ve been so good to me, Hobi.” You manage to work his fly open, and you lift your gaze to meet him. “Let me be good to you.”

You resume your work, wriggling Hoseok’s jeans down his thighs until his hands cover yours and he takes over, stripping himself of his shoes as well. He reaches back between his shoulder blades to pull his tank top over his head, and your eyes sweep over his body, taking in his lithe figure and smooth, hard muscles. You trail the tips of your fingers down the defined lines of his chest.

“Fuck,” Hoseok starts to smile self-consciously, one hand drifting over his dick straining against tight black briefs with a slightly darker spot in the center where he’s left a kiss of precum on the fabric. “I don’t have any condoms here.”

You sit up on your knees in front of him, considering this. “Use my mouth.” The high of your orgasm has subsided enough now that you’re not quite shameless anymore, and heat blooms in your face as you continue. “Like, fuck my throat.”

He tries and fails to suppress a groan, and his delicate hands reach to cup either side of your face, thumbs rubbing circles into the hinge of your jaw. “You–” he laughs softly. “You can’t just say things like that.”

“I mean it,” you say simply.

“But you really want to?”

You nod, half play-acting your shyness now, letting your lashes flutter as you blink up at him. “I’ve done it before. I like it.”

“Fuck,” Hoseok breathes. “I want to do everything you like.”

“Please?” You ask sweetly, and Hoseok is already getting to his feet, one hand still cupping your jaw.

“Pretty,” he murmurs, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “So pretty when you beg to suck my cock.” You’re smiling, your fingers slipping under his waistband to slide his briefs down his legs.

“Take your dress off, baby,” Hoseok instructs as he steps back to finish pulling off his underwear. “Don’t wanna ruin it.”

You do as you’re told, staying on your knees to pull it over your head, your heart squeezing again when he takes it from you and treats it as gently as his own clothes. It’s oddly domestic to watch him fold the smooth fabric with shaking hands, naked except for his jewelry, his hard dick leaking against his stomach.

When he turns back to you, you take the opportunity to properly admire him. His cock is as flushed and gorgeous as the rest of him, thick and dripping wet from his tip. You duck down to press a kiss to the sensitive spot under his head, then slide your lips up to gloss over his slit, slicking your mouth with his precum.

You look up at him, hands gripping the backs of his thighs; Hoseok’s eyelids are heavy with lust as he watches you work, tongue toying at the corner of his mouth. He groans a little as you pop just the head into your mouth and swirl your tongue over it, tasting the salt of him.

His hand slides to the back of your head, tangling in the hair at the nape of your neck, and his adam’s apple jerks in his throat as he swallows.

“Tap my foot if you need to stop.” Hoseok’s voice is quiet but firm, and his socked toes wiggle, brushing against your knee pressed into the carpet. “Okay?”

You hum your acknowledgement and maintain eye contact as he holds you still and slides his cock into your mouth. He starts off at a gentle pace, and you hollow your cheeks around him, pressing your tongue flat so it drags over his shaft as he starts to pump in and out of you.

As much as you want him in control, there’s a part of you that can’t help yourself– you lean forward, eyes fluttering closed, wanting to prove to him how much you can take. The head of his cock starts to stretch down your throat and you focus on breathing steady through your nose, your muscles jumping around him in a half-swallow.

“Fuck,” Hoseok groans, his voice dark and rough-edged. You can feel drool starting to leak out of your mouth, and the mess just makes it better. “You take it so well.”

His hips keep rolling, withdrawing his cock into the heat of your mouth only to push it back down the tight clutch of your throat. It gets easier as he starts to move faster, the weight of him pressing bright on your gag reflex in shorter and shorter bursts. It’s just enough to make tears well up in your eyes. They eventually spill over, staining your cheeks until your face is slick and wet, like the sounds of him hitting the back of your throat, all of it obscene and hot.

The hand in your hair tightens as he pulls you all the way down on his shaft until your nose is flush with his abdomen and your throat bulges, filled with him. He holds you there, eyes roaming hungrily over your face.

“You look so sweet with my cock down your throat, baby.”

The hum of agreement you try makes you gag a little, and he quickly releases, pulling out to let you gasp for air. Your tongue lolls out of your mouth as you smile up at him, dazed, and catch your breath.

“Was that too much?” His brows pinch together slightly with concern. You wipe a hand over your nose and shake your head.

“I want more, Hobi,” you purr, moving your face back towards his dick. You lean forward to lazily drag your tongue up his shaft for emphasis. “Want you to come on my face,” you admit as you fix your gaze on him.

You swear you feel his knees almost buckle when you take him in your mouth again.

“You are so fucking sexy,” Hoseok practically growls, hand returning to the nape of your neck. He pushes himself back down your throat and starts to pick up the pace. You want him all and take it easily now, drool slicking your neck and chest when you swallow around his length.

“Oh my god,” he gasps, and you can feel his cock twitch on your tongue as he fucks roughly into your mouth, chasing his orgasm. “Oh my god.”

Hoseok’s grip on your hair goes slack and he pulls out, hand pumping fast over his drool-glossed cock. He tips his head back, exposing the column of his throat with a heady whine when he starts to come. You’re up on your knees and ready for it, nose bumping his fist, face presented for him to paint. Warm spurts of cum hit your cheeks, tongue, lips, and you giggle a little as you try to hold still, as he makes another throaty grunt of effort and release.

“Shit,” he hisses as the movements of his hand slow, as he works out the last of it, stray drips already trailing down your neck, between the valley of your breasts. “Fuuuck.” His breathing is ragged, and you press a wet kiss to the tip of his dick as he recovers.

He’s clearly already focused on the mess he’s made of you, spinning in a dazed semi-circle before reaching to grab a box of tissues off of the desk. His bare knees thud on the carpet as he sinks down next to you.

You’re surprised when he leans in to kiss you, humming softly against your mouth, tongue even darting out to lick at the cum that drips off your lips. You smile into it, teeth gently grazing over his bottom lip.

“Hi,” he huffs a laugh as he leans back. “Was that okay? Not too much?”

You shake your head. “I liked it,” you say again, though your voice comes out a little hoarse. “Wouldn’t have asked for it if I didn’t. I like you. I–” your breath hitches slightly with nerves, and it’s funny to you, that it’s easy to ask him to fuck your throat, but hard to talk about the bigger feelings underneath. It’s more intimate, somehow, to be earnest. “You always worry so much about everyone else. I just want to take care of you.”

“You can.” Hoseok’s voice is gentle and warm. “We both can.” He pulls a tissue loose from the box, hovering close to you. “Let me clean you up.”

You’re too blissed out to stop yourself from giggling. “You have a whole party to get back to.” You nod dumbly at the verity of your own statement as he uses tissues to wipe cum and drool off your face, tear stains and smudged makeup from your cheeks.

“This,” he swipes a thumb down over your bottom lip, chases it with another quick kiss, “was so much better than a fucking party.” He adds the last of the dampened tissues to the small pile he’s made on the floor, tilting your jaw with his hand to inspect his work, to ensure perfection as he does with everything. “But I probably don’t have much longer before people start looking for me.”

“You should go,” you say quietly, trying to ignore the drop in your stomach.

His hand slips into yours for the second time tonight. “Will you come with me? I know it’s not really your thing.”

You falter momentarily– not because you don’t want to, but you can’t shake your own self-consciousness, this sense that you don’t belong here, rubbing elbows with all these famous people. But it’s hard to feel like any of that matters with the way Hoseok is looking at you, the soft turn of his lips in a barely-there smile.

“Are you sure?”

“Very.” He gives your hand an affirming squeeze. “Do I need to remind you that this entire party is literally for you?”

You shake your head, rolling your eyes at his antics despite the laugh that bubbles up in your throat. “I still can’t believe you. What is this, The Great Gatsby?”

His laugh is high and sweet, hand untangling from yours to wrap both arms around your waist, and he pulls you into his chest, bare skin on bare skin, hearts beating together. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes, Hobi,” you relent. “I’ll go back with you. Besides, Jimin promised to feed me.”

You can feel Hoseok’s smile as he presses a kiss to your temple. “Come on, then. I promise it’ll be fun. If we get Jungkook drunk enough he’ll probably start dancing on the stage.”

“Now that I have to see.”

[ivy-loves-chocolate]

A/N: This is the second fic of the series. For more info, check this post.

Plot: The scientist messed with Wesker's serum by accident and Excella takes advantage of his state.

Type: smut.

Warnings: drugs, dub-con, non-con, dark!fic. Your media consumption is your responsibility, please read the warnings and tags, and if you see anything you don't like, please move along.

On paper, she was his superior, but in real life, she was nothing more than a mere tool for his plans, a tool that he will eventually dispose of. She wanted a deeper connection with him, and since they both share the same ideals she thought it would be easy, but he didn’t see her as an equal. As a result, because of her desperation, she eventually began to cross his boundaries, either by calling him “Albert”, which he despite it because he thought it was too formal to be called by his first name, or by using pet names, or by touching him inappropriately. She lost control in face of her own feeling for him. Why not her? She always found a way to invade his space, and that annoyed him terribly to the point where he had to use physical force to cast her away. Despite yelling, choking, and insulting her she always came back, more eager than before. Her persuasive nature indeed helped her gain control over the company after all, so it’s no surprise why she kept coming back after facing so many obstacles. Every boundary he set was shamelessly running over by her.

However, Excella was a fascinating woman. Albert admired her deeply despite her never-ending desires towards him. He wouldn’t mind having sex with her, on the contrary, he had a sadistic pleasure to torment her by showing up in these extremely thigh suits or exposing as much skin as possible. He would make her lose her mind and then reject her just for his amusement. Wesker knew she would’ve to leave anywhere no matter how much of an asshole he was. But her efforts weren’t enough to make him consider her as a partner.

He heard familiar footsteps outside the door of his lair. It was something modest, small, and known to a handful of people. He was a mysterious figure in the company after all. The room had a minimalist design, a big black desk next to a large window, a couch in case he needed to rest, a bookshelf with the latest researches, and a hanger with two or three black trench coats. The window had a beautiful view of the desert, but its blinds were always closeted. The only source of lighting was coming from the lamp on his desk, its dim warm light filling the room. He could perfectly see in the dark, so it’s not an issue for him.

The footsteps stopped in front of the room and it was quiet for a few seconds before Excella finally knocked. With a sigh, he answered.

“Come in”

She entered the room like she owned the place. After greeting him, she sat on the couch and placed the suitcase next to her. From inside, she pulled out a syringe and removed its cap, tapping it a few times to remove the air bubbles. Then, with a smirk on her face, she tapped the seat next to her, persuading Albert to sit. He wasn’t wearing his sunglasses so he tried so hard not to roll his eyes. With a sigh, he sat next to her and stretched his arm.

Wesker sat with his legs spread on purpose. He rolled up his sleeve exposing his forearm. Excella’s eyes were following every movement, staring at the muscle and its prominent veins. Without a warning, she inserted the needle with force, looking for any sign of discomfort on his face, but Albert didn’t even flinch. Instead, he was smiling at the woman’s attempts to get a reaction.

Excella usually leaves after the serum made its effect. While waiting they talked about the latest results in project Uroborus. Wesker kept looking at his watch. He likes her company, but if she stays too long she becomes touchy. Something was off, he should’ve felt a difference by now. Excella kept talking like usual, ignoring Albert’s worried look. Feeling weakened instead of strengthened, he made himself more comfortable on the couch. He let his head fall on the backrest as his weakness increased. The woman’s speech faded, his vision became blurry. In his foggy mind, he realized. She wasn’t looking for a reaction to the pain, she was looking for a reaction to the serum because she changed the formula.

“Albert, Albert, Albert…” she said while standing in front of him placing both arms on his knees. “How long do you think we would play this cat and mouse game” one of her hands went on the backrest of the couch while slowly climbing onto his lap. Once she was comfortable, she ran her hand through his blond hair, pulling his head so he can look at her face.

“There was no game…” he said between his teeth, the new formula having no effect upon his speech.

“You can tell me now, there shouldn’t be any secrets between partners.”

“You and I are not partners. Not in that way.” The answer disappointed Excella.

“You don’t say.” She mocked him. “You said we’re going to be partners in the new world. How come we didn’t take it to the next step?”

Maybe he didn’t have her at his little finger as he thought.

“Partners in a platonic way.”

“Don’t be rude.” She grabbed his cheeks so hard that the skin underneath her fingers turned red, but he was too numb to feel. “I gave you this to help you relax a little. All this research on Uroborus and that girl Valentine got you worked up.”

That was it, she was jealous of his former coworker. That explains why she was so jealous and suffocating lately.

“Valentine it’s not going to be the queen of my new world. You are. I promised you that.”

“Like I will believe a word you’re going to say.” And she pressed her lips over his. Her grip around his cheeks loosens a bit. The kiss became more passionate, all the shyness adding away. Their lips parted, making space for their tongues to taste each other. To their surprise, Albert responded back. When they finally pulled back, Excella stared at his opened shirt, more exactly at the skin that was showing. Full of greed, she ripped off the shirt exposing his defined abs and she ran her hands over them feeling every curve and contraction. She squeezed his pecs, ran her fingers over his six-pack and obliques, fulfilling her long waited desires.

“I’m not my real self right now, help me get back on my feet and I’ll gladly tell you more about what bothers me.” He pulled her away from her thoughts. He hated when he didn’t have control over his body.

“Like I would. The new formula made you numb, but only your body. Your mind should be clear, and as for your ability to speak, well, I wanted you to be very vocal so I can know how much you enjoy the thing I’ll do to you.”

He hated this situation more than she could’ve imagined. But the more Excella rubbed on him, the less angry and needier he became. The view of Excella, with her dress that barely covers her breasts, inches away from his face, warmed his body. She was quick to notice his playful glances.

“Do you like what you see?” She placed a few fingers over her cleavage. Wesker remained silent. Excella moved closer until her chest was pressed over his face, nose deep buried between her boobs. He looked up at her despising her arrogant smile, but unable to refuse the treat in front of him.

“Don’t be shy. I noticed how you stare at them.” She gently moved from left to right, shaking her breasts over his face. Being overwhelmed by the warmth of her chest, he left out a soft moan. He was losing control.

Still pressed over Albert’s face, her slender fingers grabbed the sides of the fabric that covered her bobs and pulled them aside, revealing her hardened, small nipples. Wesker lost his mind at the sight of such beautiful breasts, his mouth opening a little without being aware of it.

Excella didn’t wait any longer and placed one of her nipples between his parted lips. Defeated by his own desires, Wesker took a bigger portion of her breast in his mouth and sucked it. His hard-on was noticeable and stimulated by Excella’s hips movements. Wesker kept on sucking and nibbling until she switched and placed the other nipple in his mouth. He could barely breathe, he was all flustered and his cheeks turned to a bright red, but there was something about being suffocated in this way.

Excella pulled out, some saliva still connecting her boob and his lips.

“What do you want Albert?” She asked, admiring the mess of the man that Wesker was. She saw he hesitated to give an answer, so to help him he rubbed herself over his bulge, pressing more of her weight over his hard member. It rubbed so well over her clothed folds.

Her strategy worked, as he was panting and sweating. His eyes were shut but his mouth opens letting out this sweet, sweet whimpers that drove Excella mad.

“Look at me” she demanded, grabbing his cheeks and lifting his head. “What do you want?”

Leaving his ability to speak might have been the best idea.

“I-I want you to-“

“To what Albert?” Her nails kept digging in his flesh until her fingertips turned white and the skin of his cheeks red.

“To touch me.” He finally said it, knowing well he’ll be ashamed when he’ll be sober, but now he was too horny to care.

“So now you want me to touch you.” Wesker nodded. “You’re pitiful.” She slapped his face, the sound echoing in the room. A red mark was visible on his cheek and his eyes turned red.

“You had it coming.” He couldn’t do anything but insult her, but that wouldn’t hurt her as bad as he wants. Still, the slap had an interesting effect on him because now he could feel his cock leaking in his pants.

Excella climbed down, working on his zipper. She thought they had enough foreplay. Besides, she didn’t know when the effect will wear off. With steady hands she unzipped his pants and pulled down his boxers, revealing his pulsating and veiny cock. At the sight of it, Excella’s mouth watered instantly. All she wanted for so long was in front of her, way bigger than she expected and ready to be drained. Suddenly, anxiety hit her.

“Will I be capable of satisfying him?” She thought.

As she was reading her mind, Albert said it out loud.

“You came so far, it would be a shame to let it go waste.” He said as encouraging her.

Hearing this gave her a little courage. She opened her mouth and surrounded his tip with her lips. She immediately noticed the salty taste on her tongue. His tip was soaked in his own precum. After swiping her tongue around the flesh, she started to suck the tip, while gently massaging the hole with her tongue. Wesker’s whimpers were slowly turning to moans as it was harder to contain himself. He wanted to get up and fuck her but his legs were numb. His throat was too dry to speak so he could only whine.

Excella went deeper, the girth stretching her throat and making it difficult to breathe. If he could, he would thrust his hips deep down her throat and finally achieve his relief. She barely took him, tears started to roll down her cheeks once the tip was hitting the back of her throat. She appreciated that she was shaved, even if he didn’t expect this occasion.

After moving along his shaft a few times to adjust to the size, she began to move faster. Her tongue was swirling along the shaft and she never once stopped sucking it, ignoring the burn the friction was causing to her throat. Every move along the length brought Wesker to his orgasm. His twitching cock was noticeable by her now sensitive throat, as well as the hot semen that was leaking in short spams.

“Excella…” he moaned.

The way he was moaning her name, the fact that he was under her control, the whole situation made her happy beyond words. She wished it will always be like this. However, she felt Albert might come back in control soon, so she removed her mouth right when he was about to burst. He didn’t like it and sobbed as a result.

“Patience. It doesn’t feel good to be rejected your desires isn’t it?”

He remained silent as he just accepted his weakness. His cock was twitching hard with beads of cum leaking down his length.

“Patience…” she was talking more to herself as she climbed on his lap and pulled up her dress, revealing her perfectly shaved pussy. She lowered her body over his aching cock, the intrusion being both painful and pleasant. Albert gasped at the feeling of her tight walls around his cock, feeling like bursting any second now.

“I’ve been waiting for this for so long,” she said while picking up the pace. She held on to his shoulder for support, nails digging in his skin. Excella took all of him immediately, every thrust hitting that sweet spot. She never felt so full with any partner. Lead by greed she rode him fast and deep.

Wesker was about to explode, but something made him contain his orgasm as much as possible.

“I'm close..” He sobbed, and she picked up the pace so she can rub that little spot inside her even more. He had to look away because the sight of her bouncing breasts was killing him. He could feel her walls tightening around his shaft with every thrust.

“Come for me little one..” Red eyes were staring at the woman. With final, messy thrusts, she finished on top of him, lots of glossy liquid dripping down her thighs. Her legs were shaking and it took her a while to climb off him and sit on the couch. Thanks to the soft couch cushions, she barely felt the burning inside her. The room was filled with their heavy breaths.

“Didn’t you forget something?” Wesker broke the silence and with his last strength, he pointed to his painful hardened cock which was still leaking. She lazily gave him a handjob until he burst over her fingers and his shirt. Hot steamy liquid burst into air, over his shirt, and over her fingers

Another moment of silence came next, which was shortly interrupted by the sound of another cap being removed from the needle.

“You’re playing with fire.” He spat while red glowing eyes were watching the syringe coming closer. He gained some strength to catch her hand that was holding the syringe, but he was still weakened and Excella easily overpowered him putting him back in place. She climbed back up, this time holding both his hands and injecting the serum in his neck.

“This will relax you.” She whispered in his ear. Seconds after the injection Albert fell asleep. While sleeping peacefully, Excella was cleaning any evidence that could lead to the event of that night.

[writing-in-april]

Made to Match

Frankie Morales x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: Reader can’t stop stealing Frankie’s hat.

A/N: Hey everyone- this is my sixteenth fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April!!!! This is just a very fluffy sweet little fic I wrote for Frankie 😌 Side note- I wanted to thank everyone for being so kind after my last post ranting about my emotional breakdown today, thank you- so much it means a lot. Feel free to leave me an anon about anything here- I love hearing from people about anything (I promise I don’t bite lol) Thanks for reading and hope y’all enjoy!

Warnings: Frankie gets a little frisky by gettinbf close to grabbing Reader’s ass & one or two swear words

Main Masterlist Word Count: 1.5k

“You can’t keep stealing my hat!” Frankie shouted at you as you ran away from him with his hat perched on your head. All you did was giggle and scurry away faster.

You ran into your shared bedroom, looking around frantically for a quick place to hide. Realistically you knew Frankie would find you in a heartbeat, he had been trained to track stealthier people throughout his career. You were definitely no challenge considering you couldn’t even keep your mouth shut and stop laughing.

It was funny to see him pretend to get mad each time you’d pluck it off of his head, even though the look in his eyes showed how much he liked it.

The quickest place to hide was in the closet you both shared, choosing to hide in between both of your racks of hanging clothes. You posited that he might not check here, both of you preferred wearing the more casual clothes folded neatly in the dresser. The only thing Frankie regularly wore that was in here was a few of his nice flannels that he didn’t want getting creases in. He was never in here, so he wouldn’t think to check here

It was quiet, definitely too quiet. You bit your lip while holding your breath, afraid that he might somehow hear you. The silence was tense, your mind over analyzing every small noise you heard.

A small creak from the floorboards made you tense up even more, you were sure Frankie was close. That was soon after confirmed to you by a loud shout to scare you out of your hiding place, “Boo!”

Even though you had known he was close you still couldn’t help but let out a short scream, adrenaline now coursing through your veins as a result of being startled. Your shout dissolved back into laughter that infected the room once your mind fully processed that it was only Frankie. He pulled you out from the rack with a gentle grip on your wrist, starting to tickle your sides as soon as you emerged. The sounds of each other's laughter were addicting to both you and Frankie. You did have to eventually beg when tears came to your eyes, “I yield! You can have your hat back!”

He popped it off your head, plopping it back down where it belonged on his head. You draw your lips into the biggest pout you could manage, though you weren’t actually upset of course. It was fun to pull Frankie’s leg even if he knew you were pretending right off the bat.

“But- I look the best in it.” Frankie’s look on his face told you that your fake pout and dramatic words weren't swaying him at all.

“I don’t disagree with you. But, it’s still mine,” He teased, “Besides, mine is too big on you, you need one that fits better.”

—-

Frankie’s passing comment about getting you a baseball cap for yourself hadn’t stuck with you for very long, certainly not 2 months after. You had stolen his hat many times since then, it was too fun not too.

It was the furthest thing from your mind as you filled out some meaningless paperwork at your kitchen table. You were getting bored to tears, filling in blanks that basically just repeated the same information over and over again until you reached the end. You audibly sighed in relief when Frankie came in through the front door, back from work for the evening.

He set down his truck keys on the kitchen table, carefully avoiding revealing something he obviously was holding behind his back. He hadn’t said anything to you yet besides a simple greeting and telling you he missed you. Instead, deciding to stand, patiently waiting for you to finish what you were doing.

“What are you doing?” You questioned not bothering to finish the paperwork for now, standing up as he rocked back on his heels .

“I- Umm have something for you…” He pushed a package in your hand that he had been hiding behind his back after his admission. When he handed you his pocket knife to open the package you tore into it, carefully of course, in case it was something fragile. In the box held a hat, one that looked suspiciously similar to the one sat on his head. You pulled it out of the box, inspecting it in your hands, realizing it was an exact match for his.

“You got this for me?” You squeaked and he nodded in return, while you flipped it over in your hands, looking at every inch. It had a similar patch on the front that had the same ‘Standard Heating & Oil’ on the front. At first looking at it you thought he might have gotten it custom made for you, until you realized it was well loved just as his was. Well, maybe not as much considering Frankie’s hat had fallen apart at the seams until you had fixed it with some new stitching. It must have taken a while to track down a real one with the exact same logo as his. Your curiosity was peaked so you asked, “Where did you get this?”

He shifted his eyes back and forth, getting a little nervous that you might not like it. He did eventually find the words to tell you, “I was looking on um- EBay for one and then I happened to find one at a thrift store while looking for new flannels.”

“I- I love it, thank you so much baby.” You gasped in excitement and leaned forward to press a kiss to his burning cheeks. Something about it being made at a similar time as his made it all the more special, glad that Frankie was blessed with serendipity.

Frankie then shyly asked, “Can I put it on you?”

Almost immediately you answered, “Yes!” Frankie still looked rather bashful at your response, tugging his own cap down before grabbing your new one. Something about you being excited for his little gifts always seemed to make him extremely bashful, like he felt he didn’t deserve your praise. You made it your mission to change that each time he added to the list of little things that made you love him even more.

“This one will fit better on you than mine.” Your eyes went soft, the gesture so sweet that you suddenly wanted to cry for some reason. Frankie was always a very sweet man, each time he did something like this your heart melted into a puddle on the floor no matter how many times he’s done it.

He takes the bill of your new hat and places it on your head, swatting your hands away when you move to push it down so he could do it himself. The hat fits perfectly on your head, almost so perfect that you wouldn’t be surprised if Frankie had measured your head while you were sleeping and adjusted it accordingly. He tapped the top of the bill once while looking down at you with his own hat snug on his head making you giggle.

Moving his hands again to now smooth over the tops of your shoulders he inspected the fit of it with a smile. “It looks perfect- you look perfect.”

Bringing your lips to Frankie’s you then gave him a soft kiss while cupping his scratchy cheeks. It was slightly awkward to maneuver the bills of your caps to be able to have your lips meet properly, the corners of Frankie’s eyes crinkling in amusement as you huffed trying to adjust your mouth on his. You did eventually find the perfect angle to tilt both of your heads without bonking the curved bills together.

Sighing into the kiss, Frankie reciprocated, deepening it a little bit more. His hands were always wandering, trailing down from your shoulders to the small of your back, low enough that he was almost grabbing your ass. You couldn’t seem to stop giggling, something that Frankie loved, even while kissing.

“What are you doing?” You repeated your question from earlier, much more teasingly this time while his hand travelled down further.

“Nothing…” The way the pitch in his voice rose you could tell that was a lie. You quirked your eyebrow up at him in question, silently calling him a liar. He withered underneath your gaze and admitted, “Alright- maybe it’s something but, you just look so good in your hat.”

Teasing him was almost too easy sometimes, you could get him to be flustered with just a few simple words or even none at all, “Mmmm alright I’ll let it go, I do like this hat on me too. Thanks again for getting it for me baby.”

You both kept standing in your embrace like time had stopped ticking by, just enjoying the presence of the other. The hat was an amazing present from Frankie, matching perfectly with him. But, you weren’t going to lie, you'd miss stealing his hat so he would chase you around the house. You brought your head out from where it was tucked in his shoulder to ask, “Can I still steal yours sometimes?”

“Of course, but only if you let me steal yours.” You nodded your head, with a smile of course because there was almost never a time when you didn’t smile when you were around Frankie. Now you and Frankie would always match, like two peas in a pod.

Ask Me Anything

——

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[felikatze]

Hello! I've been reading your analysis for LC and LoR over the past few days and they were wonderful! I don't think I quite know how to top the asks or the various analysis that were sent lately, though I wanted to mix things up a little. I wanted to ask, in your opinion, what would've happened in a better timeline. Or, rather, how do you think things would've progressed in a world where the entire mess with Enoch's death and the subsequent chaos never happened and Ayin and Carmen confess?

arcane speaking of my posts i see

Amazing question because I have put thought into stuff like that! (shuffles fic drafts into my closet, never to be seen again)

It's. complicated. Because a world where all of them survive is a world where they give up.

They's forever be stuck on the experimental stage if they refuse to take that step toward human trials. And it’s unclear if there’s another avenue for them to pursue to cure the “disease of the mind.”

However, this “disease” isn’t one that’s actually caught and transmitted; it arises from the culture of the City. We see this personified in LoR through Roland, who has lost all hope for the future thanks to the tragedy he experienced. In the City, people die constantly. They take on life-threatening work to avoid poverty and pay for protection. It’s the cruelties of life that makes the people incapable of having hopes and dreams.

It’s only through time and the help of a large support network that he’s able to move on. The guy who exemplifies Carmen’s idea of the “disease” manages to heal, which shows that anyone in the City could. However, this happens only once he is outside the City. The Library in his case serves as a respite.

The Sephirah and Ayin too all manage to move on, but in extremely special circumstances. Again, they’re removed from the City, although the Facility serves as like... a microcosm of City society.

The Seed of Light would be a one-hit wonder to change the minds of the City’s people and give them hope. Without that, they’d either have to try and change the systems of the City, which would be basically impossible for the Outskirts Team. They may have had a colored fixer, but they can’t take on the the Head alone, not even mentioning the Wings that benefit from a downtrodden populance.

There’s not really a “fix-it” for a world such as Projmoon’s just from how much is awry in it. Carmen’s goals were too large for a ragtag group of researches. And we see what it really took to make it real. It’s no secret that Projmoon’s world is a satire of our own, amplifying all the worst aspects in blatant metaphors such as “literally using suffering as energy.” It’s not a very kind setting. Any positive character development happens in spite of the setting.

If they stopped the experiments, they could settle together, sure. They could be happy together, maybe. But they wouldn’t fulfill their lofty aims, I don’t think. There’s not really a “better” timeline to have.

I mean, outside of all of them becoming hardcore activitsts, maybe managing to recruit Garion or something. Maybe if they strictly kept to the EGO they already had (e.g. Kali’s proto-Mimicry)(if they even had that before Carmen’s death) and kindly asked the Head to change armed to the teeth. Though a revolution against the Wings would no doubt be bloody.

Honest to god if you want to write a fix it for this, you’re better off going the revival route instead of the classic time travel fix it.

[btsandvmin]

Ask: Reply - 2021.03.25

Time to go through some of your asks! I am glad you seemed to like the new format and I’ll keep it up for now. (If you have any suggestions for improvement feel free to comment.) I got a lot this time and with pretty varying topics, so it took a while for me to write this even if it still seems pretty sloppy. I also got two asks I just answer briefly but didn’t want to include due to the topics. Anyways, let’s get to it. :)

Topics:

Ask 1 - Anon share about shipping Ji/hope and becoming a Vminie Ask 2 - Reasons to ship Vmin and no leaks of a relationship (+ rumors ask) Ask 3 - Stress over my analysis “making people delusional” Ask 4 - Tae/kook and Ji/kook being big ships (+t/k shippers ask) Ask 5 - Not enjoying a bond because of it’s shippers Ask 6 - Vmin videocall while getting make-up. Ask 7 - Vmin shaking hands Ask 8 - Wheesa from Mamamoo Ask 9 - Any wholesome fic recs?

(I got a few more left, but the post was getting long, so I’ll save them for next time. I promise I’ll answer them in my next ask post.)

Ask 1 - Anon share about shipping Ji/hope and becoming a Vminie

Hi and thank you for sharing your story, I always find it interesting to read how people found their way to Vmin and in particular if they shipped something else first. Don’t worry about it being long, it was a fun read. :)

I see what you mean with there being “something about Jimin” and I actually think he is so shippable with all BTS members. He truly works so well and is so sweet and cute with all of them. I also think Ji/hope (as many hyung x maknae line ships) is a very underrated ship. And they used to be very big on the fanservice on stage in the early years too so they definitely have some “questionable moments” in that sense as well. 

I think the way Jimin express his love for all his members is amazing and has probably lead to all of them expressing their love a lot more opnely. Think of how Jimin started their tradition of giving gifts for their birthdays for example. Honestly, all BTS ships are good ships but I really think Jimin’s way of being so openly affectionate just makes all his ships very soft and full of love. But yes, more love to Ji/hope please, because they have a lot of great moments. 

It’s interesting how you say you were affected by the platonic label Vmin has. I really think it’s very strong and works very well on a majority of the fandom and on most people that don’t dig a bit deeper and question what Vmin have actually done. That being said, a lot of the surface level things for all ships are great, and I do think you really have to deep dive into a ship to get the more actually questionable moments a lot of the time. And I think with Vmin this hasn’t been done so much, so people might be surprised when they actually do look closer.

I also like how the lipstick moment and the kissing the doll moments made you end up questioning Vmin. For me who has looked at Vmin for so long these were just more examples of things I had already seen, but I am sure many newer fans (just like you did) would react and look twice at these moments. I’ll tell you though, these moments are just barely scratching the surface of questionable things that Vmin have done.

I am glad you like my blog and think the things I say makes sense, though I do want to be clear and say it’s just me guessing and making theories. I am glad they make sense, but I could still be wrong. :P Thank you again for sharing your own story, and I hope you will keep on enjoying Vmin and my blog. <3

Ask 2 - Reasons to ship Vmin and no leaks of a relationship (rumors)

I mean, I think I have shared my reasons to ship Vmin in pretty much every post I have ever done on this blog. There’s a lot of them after all... But if you haven’t already I would suggest checking out my posts 10 Reasons to ship Vmin and 10 more reasons to ship Vmin. 

I stress the point that Vmin could easily be platonic but simply extremely close all the time as well, so we could definitely be reading too much into things. Of course this goes for all shippers (or rather believers, there is a difference after all). I suspect your question might not be about shipping but rather if Vmin could be real and what reasons I might have to think that is possible. You can check my post Shipping vs Believing if you want to know how I view things very differently when it comes to simply shipping and anything that goes beyond shipping).

As for what makes Vmin stand out as more likely compared to other ships I guess the main things I take into account are: The songs, Vmin being careful (including friendzoning and other members’ reactions to them), their sometimes contradicting behavior (like them being soulmates but seemingly being awkward with some things or not being together as much as we might expect etc.), the way they do some very romantic looking things and have increased those behaviors over time and then just a lot of interesting moments and their close relationship in general. Also, soulmates is not a label to underestimate.

As for leaks I think you have to ask the same question for all idols, and all relationships. I mean, how many leaks of any BTS relationship have we gotten? I don’t think the guys have lived in celibate for their whole careers. Not to mention a lot of idols date secretly, and for LGBT+ idols I am sure they would be even more careful. But at the same time people also would likely be less suspicious unless they do something very obvious. I mean, think of all the things we have seen BTS do openly. I also think we have to remember that if it’s something that the fans doesn’t want to know or believe it also is less likely to get spread. For example that an idol they love would be LGBT+... because heteronormativity and homophobia is not to be taken lightly either. I also think you underestimate how many secrets insiders in all entertainment industries are keeping. I am sure many idols are pretty open with their dating to many, but it doesn’t get spread because there is a risk with being the whistle blower as well. Perhaps in particular with exposing someone’s sexuality which could ruin their whole career... And any person trying to ruin BTS’s reputation at this point might honestly get lynched by all of Korea.

I also know some rumors (not about sexuality) even gets pushed away as spread by antis etc. So sometimes even when rumors leak they get shut down. In the end there are a lot of rumors floating around, many that contradict each other as well, but I don’t think lack of rumors has to mean it is impossible for it to be happening. Again, many in the LGBT+ community aren’t even out to their own family and manages to hide that... We don’t know enough about how two members in a relationship would be or how open they would be to begin with. I suspect in the case of Vmin they would be very careful and only a select few would know. 

There could also be leaks, but they don’t reach the mainstream fandom. Like how I learned about the problems and disbandment talk back in the summer of 2018. Some things definitely do get leaked, but it is also very difficult to know if they are real or not until confirmed.

But I do think if a couple is real and they are pretty open with it, eventually they would either be in an obvious glass closet or there would be rumors or even confirmation. Because if a couple isn’t careful to begin with then they clearly risk exposure and likely wouldn’t mind too much to be outed.

It’s definitely a complicated topic, and a whole world we as fans don’t know enough about to even come to any real conclusions. So don’t worry about not knowing, it’s not like we as outsider can easily know how things work as they are likely even different for each company, group, couple, individual etc.

I also want to adress one ask I got but won’t include, about a particular sasaeng rumor ((part of ask: there was news going around by saesung (idk if I spelled it right sorry)...)). I only have two things to say, because I don’t want to spread any of these rumors or want any of you to look for these things.

1. Rumors are rumors, we have no idea what sources they come from and many times they also contradict each other. Often they can be spread by antis of some kind with an agenda to hurt or worry. It’s better to simply pay them no attention most of the time.

2. If the rumors are ridiculous in nature, as the one you asked about, it’s even better to not spread it further. In this case it would go against the personalities of the members and against their own words. It would mean BTS lied to us straight to our faces about something there is no reason to lie about, and thus doesn’t have any reason to happen to begin with. Be open of course, but also think critically. Don’t worry in vain, just try to ignore stuff like this.

Ask 3 - Stress over my analysis “making people delusional”

Thank you a lot @phantomavenger​, your message really soothes me. This is a dilemma I’ve struggled with a lot over the years actually. If sharing stuff and theories about Vmin might not be good, no matter if I am right or wrong. Because if Vmin are together I am basically working to exposing them against their will and if I am wrong I might be a factor in people believing in something that isn’t real, which might end up hurting them. 

I usually end up thinking that maybe it’s better for things to come from me with a more nuanced take than that someone else finds it and it spreads in a more uncontrolled and delusional way right away. If that makes sense? I know this might sound very conceited, but since I know my words are being spread I at least hope to make people understand the importance of not jumping to conclusions and sounding too sure of anything we don’t really know. Again, a lot of ships have believers, and that says something. We should all be careful both for our own sake and for the privacy of the boys. Normalizing delusional behavior is what usually leads to worse and worse things being done “in the name of the ship” as well and I just don’t want that from Vminies. The trickle down effect of people misunderstanding or twisting my words is also a bit scary.  There are also so many shipper at this point that I think most things I point out will eventually likely be pointed out or noticed by someone else anyway, so...

But you are right, I can’t take responsibility for people taking my things out of context or getting convinced even though I try to tell them not to. In the end I write analysis on Vmin because I don’t think anything I find is enough to actually prove anything (this goes for all ships btw). I’ll share my analysis and with it I will also have many reasons on why shipping real people and “knowing a ship is real” is so much more difficult than many seem to think. 

Here’s a sneak peak in case anyone is interested. 

Don’t worry, I’ll try to edit it and make it more concise. Thank you again for your kind words and reassurance. :)

Ask 4 - Tae/kook and Ji/kook being big ships

Hi, and wecome to the fandom! I hope you will enjoy being an ARMY and keep liking Vmin. :3

I answered recently about big ships (Ask: Reply - 2021.03.18 Ask 3 - What makes a ship big?) and I’ve talked about popularity regarding these certain ships before as well in Why do you think Vmin get so brozoned by the fandom?

First I would like to say that “vibes” to me doesn’t really say much... All shippers clearly have their own perception of the members and their dynamics, otherwise everyone would ship the same thing. That being said I think projecting is part of many shippers’ reasons to ship and definitely think it’s part in why JK ships in general are very popular. Not just within BTS but for straight ships as well.

I don’t think there is ever one simple reason for why someone ships something, and same for why they might think a pair is actually together. Me might all have our own reasons for why we like a certain ship. For me all ships in BTS have good enough chemistry and dynamics to be shipped and I don’t think there is anything weird with those ships being popular. Especially since they’ve basically been popular since the start for their own reasons and then simply kept growing.

In short I think these things might play a big part in why some ships get bigger than others:

1. Projecting and falling for a ship similar to your own preference in a relationship 2. Amount of moments, and type of moments. 3. Type of relationship and the fandom view. Some dynamics will draw people in more even if it’s only percieved dynamics and stereotyping. Sexual tension and complicated drama is more “fun” than “friends to lovers” trope. 4. How popular they are. Big ships will grow bigger faster. More exposure and material by fans might make people find big ships easier. 5. Room for analysis. Honestly, if a ship seems “complicated” it might be more interesting to dig deeper into. So when people see analysis of ji/kook or tae/kook they get interested and might get more involved. Basically if analysis are being made it will make people more invested, and for Vmin it’s not that people can’t analyze them, but rather that not many have. So you won’t find as many fans deep diving and looking harder at Vmin compared to many other ships.

Again, ships might be popular for many different reasons, but I don’t think size of a ship really is that important. Just ship and let others ship what they like as well.

I also want to briefly adress an ask I got but that I won’t post, because I got yet another ask about Tae/kook. I’m sorry I won’t include the ask but I definitely agree with your comment to “Look at V as an individual person, not part of a ship”. This should be obvious and apply for all shippers. 

But I do want to say that I don’t think shipping a particular pair is the problem, it’s how you do it. I personally see no problem with shipping anything as long as it only is shipping, which is a fantasy. I ship Chen x Baekhyun from EXO and Chen is married... I simply enjoy their dynamic as a fantasy. Just like how I enjoy characters in a book or movie I am aware it isn’t real. I mostly see shipping as a problem when you let it affect how you behave towards people with different opinions or if you push it onto the people themselves which is never ok (even if it would be real). Of course there are many examples of shippers taking things too far, but I don’t think the ship in itself is the problem, but again what those shippers might do. So yeah, I condone any shipper who crosses the line and push things onto the members, but I don’t think shipping in itself is bad.

Ask 5 - Not enjoying a bond because of it’s shippers

Hi, and first of all I am sorry you are feeling like this. I think sadly this is quite a common problem, and I am not sure I have any good answers for you. But I’ll try. I do recognize this feeling though I have mostly felt it in other fandoms where shippers of “rival” ships got me so annoyed it was difficult to not just see the shippers’ reactions every time they had a moment. Which made it less fun and sometimes hard to enjoy their moments even though I would have usually. What I did in that case was actually stop engaging in the fandom all together for a while, to take a step back as many of my own fellow shippers’ negativity about the other shippers and their theories affected me as well (btw this was a fictional ship so it’s quite different in many ways).

It’s sad when shipping affect us this much, but it can be hard when we invest so much time and get so much enjoyment out of it. I am not sure how bad you feel, but I think when you feel conflicted (possibly cognitive dissonance) when coming across ji/kook content it might have gone a bit too far (I talk about it a bit in this post) and be too attached to the idea of your own ship. If so you might want to consider taking a step back and engage with the fandom less and just focus on enjoying the actual content we get. If you simply react due to shippers and don’t actually care if ji/kook are happy together (or even would be real) I would simply suggest trying to stay away from those people. Sadly over analyzing the members happens a lot and will likely not stop anytime soon. I know it’s not that easy, but I don’t really have any better advice. Try to find places you can be while feeling happy, or take a break if you have to. Distance and time might help at times and I know many people who take breaks from their fandoms when they get too much for them and they get less enjoyment from being part of the community.

For me I did also have a period when looking at Ji/kook made me a bit annoyed or even sad. It was during a period when I was extra sensitive and wasn’t feeling very good so even small things affected me more than they should. But it had less to do with Ji/kook and more to do with consuming very toxic narratives from Ji/kook shippers that basically included Vmin being fake or played up. The idea of Vmin being fake hurts me much more than any other ship being real. Consuming a lot of quite toxic Ji/kook theories made me think Ji/kook being real would equal Vmin being fake and thus seeing Ji/kook hurt a bit.

What worked for me was realizing that this narrative makes no actual sense and there is no point in me worrying about Vmin being fake. And if they would be I know my reaction would simply be to walk away as I wouldn’t enjoy BTS if they lie about things there is no reason to lie about. This took away the feeling of being insecure, and I can be happy with just knowing Vmin are soulmates, no matter what kind. 

I also stopped looking up analysis of other ships and simply keep in mind that even if other ships are real it doesn’t change the bond between Vmin. I know enough about other ships to see their weird moments and to know I shouldn’t be certain about my own ship. I can also see what other shippers might see in a moment on my own at this point, so I do see how seeing moments might make you just think of what theories it might lead to. For me it was about changing my own mindset about other ships vs Vmin and to simply not consume content that was toxic or made me feel bad. Basically, even if Ji/kook or any other ship would be real it wouldn’t bother me as I know what Vmin has is still incredibly special and genuine.

To me this worked, but every person has their own limits. I would suggest backing off from consuming shipping content and simply look at how much the actual content shows the love between the boys. And also if possible try to get with the idea that even if another ship is real, that isn’t neccessarily bad. I would be happy for any ship if it was real at this point as long as they make each other happy, and I don’t feel threatened by other ships because of it.

As for shippers being bad or toxic, sadly with size and confidence it seems to happen a lot. I simply don’t bother with antis or over analyzing shippers of any kind that put very negative narratives on the boys. I know there will always be some bad ones in all bigger fandoms, so I try to not let it affect me too much. In fact I feel more hurt when my own ship communities engage in toxic behavior as that is harder to ignore and walk away from.

Thank you for sharing your struggles and I hope I could help maybe even a little. I know it’s not easy and as you say the guilt is also hard to deal with. I know I might have strayed away from your actual issue, but it’s a very difficult topic for me too. But at least your worry shows you truly do care for the members and don’t want to see them in a negative light. Just try to do what you need to do to feel better, even if it might be hard to do. Also thank you so much for liking my blog. <3

Ask 6 - Vmin videocall while getting make-up.

I am going to be frank here, this is a moment where fans most likely saw incorrectly and then some still spread it as a Vmin moment. I know people debated about it when it happened and I am sure people still have different opinions on it. But for me since it seems pretty clear the screen corresponds with how Tae moves the phone and takes a picture of himself. I think it was on selfie mode, not that it was a video call. This image I found might be edited because it look very much like Jimin, but it could also be accidental that this screenshot really really looked like him. I know it really looks like Jimin and the paleness of the screen makes it difficult to know... But if you watch the video in it’s original size and quality you see it’s Tae pretty clearly.

The video is  [BANGTAN BOMB] Jin's Sunglasses Collection in Hong Kong - BTS (방탄소년단). You can watch it around 2.10. Sorry for bursting the bubble. But hey, at least we know Vmin actually do facetime each other despite how much they see each other. :)

Ask 7 - Vmin and shaking hands

Vmin really are extra with the shaking (and holding/touching) hands, aren’t they? To be fair I think they do this quite a lot with other members as well, but it’s still definitely a Vmin thing. ;)

As for Brooklyn 99 I have watched clips, but not the full show, so I know who Holt and Kevin are... But I didn’t know they did that. That’s really sweet. Though obviously it sucks they can’t just be like any other couple and would have to make hand shaking their public display of affection (though I suppose it could just be their personalities as well? Like I said I don’t know the show too well.)

Funny but I actually wrote a little drabble Vmin part of something similar at one point... Though it wasn’t about shaking hands but instead fist bumps, as Vmin was doing that a lot at that time. I just find the idea of Vmin making anything normal into something cute and intimate, like an inside joke, very endearing. Thank you for sharing. :)

Ask 8 - Wheesa from Mamamoo

Thank you for sharing this cute moment. :) I really do like Mamamoo and from the few moments I have seen with them they seem really sweet with each other. Also I love Twit, it’s such a bop! 

Wouldn’t it be amazing if Vmin followed suit and Jimin appears in Tae’s MV for KTH1? :3

Ask 9 - Any wholesome fic recs?

Hi and thank you for your kind words. :3 English isn’t my native language and I struggle with being articulate sometimes, so your comment makes me really happy. :)

As for fics I am sorry, I have two big fic recs and I feel most of my favorites are included in those. (Huge Vmin fic rec and Vmin fic rec - Canon compliant) I know they don’t have any indications of rating etc. but for now looking through these lists to check if they fit what you like is what I have. If anyone has any particularly wholesome BTS fics to rec feel free to add them in the replies. :) Thank you and sorry for not coming with any actual recs in this reply. 

And that will conclude this post as it was starting to get a little long. :) I do have some asks left, and I’ll try to answer them as soon as I can with my next post. Thank you all for your interesting questions and shared stories. I hope you found this post enjoyable, or at least worth a read, as it included some pretty heavy topics.

[justlovej2]

My J2 au fic recs

I thought it was time to make a list of some of my favorite j2 fics. This is au only. Not au coming next. Enjoy.

Absence from those we love 

by mournthewicked

Word Count: 41,000

Link:  https://users.livejournal.com/-mournthewicked/354607.html

Summary: Jensen Ackles led a great life. It just wasn’t the one he planned on. Now he’s newly single, stuck at a job he hates, and sharing an apartment with his lovably psychotic best friend. When he’s given the chance to go back and do it all over again, he leaps at it. Only he soon comes to realize that no matter what’s in front of him, it’s impossible to leave the past behind. Considering what he’d be giving up, he might not even want to. (17 again j2 style)

Like a music that holds my hands down 

by saltandbyrne

Word Count: 22,891

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15310197

Summary: Perpetually-single pediatric dentist Jared lets his best friend Misha talk him into going to an anonymous BDSM party. Jared hooks up with a gorgeous stranger, but panics after their encounter and leaves before he can learn more about him. A year later, Jared is stunned to recognize Jensen Ackles as the father of one of his new patients and the guy from the best one-night stand of Jared’s life. With some encouragement from Jensen’s co-parent Danneel and Jared’s plucky office manager Genevieve, Jared realizes that he and Jensen might be perfect for each other after all.

Inked Verse

by non_timebo_mala

Word Count: 43,593

Link:  https://archiveofourown.org/series/344780

Summary:  Jared's been dying to get tattooed by renowned tattoo artist Jensen Ackles for ages. When he finally walks into the shop, he discovers he wants a lot more than just ink.

Gently play upon your heartstrings

by Cleflink

Word Count: 11,576

Link:  https://archiveofourown.org/works/1032133

Summary: Jensen is the superstar lead singer of the world's hottest rock band and, as such, is totally not bitter about getting turned down by Jared fucking Padalecki. Too bad the guy manages the hotel that Jensen lives in and is incredibly difficult to ignore.

Superheroes suck, or, the unfortunately extraordinary life of Jensen Ackles

by Cleflink

Word Count: 33,055

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/468711

Summary: Jensen hates superheroes. Having grown up with not one, but two of them in the family, he's more than aware of just how much having a spandex-clad alter ego can cock up the rest of your life. Luckily, his own powers tend towards the more passive, hippie florist side of things which - while embarrassing - means that all that superhero crap is someone else's problem. Or it would, if not for the frequent interference of superhero-obsessed friends, hostage situations, hotshot new superheroes and irritating relatives. Not to mention a boyfriend who has the uncanny ability to go missing whenever bad things are going down somewhere else in the city. Sometimes, Jensen's life is kind of bullshit.

The beat of our noisy hearts

by Cleflink

Word Count: 47,890

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/909642

Summary: In a world where heartbreak is a literal condition, it's Jared's job to sew, fill and patch the physical wounds left in people's hearts by lost loves, misunderstandings and betrayals. Jared's own love life is more than a little dire, largely because Jensen doesn't date and Jared doesn't do one-night stands, but he's got good friends and a job he loves, so he figures that he can't complain too much. When a killer attacks Jensen, Jared discovers that a needle and thread, desperation and a sharp scalpel are enough to save Jensen's life, but at a cost that is going to change Jared's life forever and tie them both together in a way that goes far deeper than flesh.

And the rest, as they say, is history

by Raina_at

Word Count: 17,728

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15012887

Summary: Struggling actor Jensen takes a job as big-shot movie star Jared Padalecki’s dogsitter. And the rest, as they say, is history.

A different kind of team building

by ashtraythief

Word Count: 8,924

Link:  https://archiveofourown.org/works/24683401

Summary: Jensen is a facts and graphs kind of guy; he never should have started working at a hipster California startup. His boss is insane, everybody’s wearing beanies, and Jared, the tall and cute head creative designer, thinks Jensen is too stuck up to work at One Tree Solutions. And now they’re going on a company retreat. But when the sleeping arrangements don’t work out as planned, Jensen realizes that maybe he didn’t have all the facts after all.

Hustle & Heart

by righteousbros

Word Count: 16,819

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1143701

Summary: Jensen is the star quarterback for the Pittsburgh Steelers and he lives and breathes the game of football. Then at a charity signing event he runs into Jared, his former teammate and his former flame. It's been years since they've spoken, but Jensen hasn't been able to let the feelings he has for Jared go. To complicate matters, Jared is on the brink of a major decision that will change his life and the history of the sport forever. Now Jensen has to decide if he has the courage to speak up and claim his chance at happiness too.

Cuffs

by TwoBoys2Love

Word Count: 87,156

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1283929

Summary: Detective Ackles gets a new partner who may be a bit of a challenge. They have different views about everything. Ackles picks up some work on a new case that reveals his partner's secret and dredges up the past.

The American Bachelor 

by dugindeep (hotsauce)

Word Count: 21,415

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1774633

Summary: Jensen Ackles is the first openly gay president, but that's the least of his worries. He's battling the press on his continued international trips to keep the peace, he has a 12-year-old to raise on his own, and he's trying to make something happen with the hot florist he just met. Jared Padalecki, on the other hand, is trying to not go insane at the prospect that the country's most eligible bachelor, and the world's most powerful man, is trying to woo him.

Splintering in slow motion

by cyndrarae

Word Count: 30,881

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7526416

Summary: Jared has been fighting the ‘darkness’ for as long as he can remember, until he can’t, or doesn’t want to anymore. He decides to treat himself to one final weekend of fun before laying down his arms, so to speak. The last thing he expects is a gatecrasher, someone who might derail his best-laid plans for good.

Apocalypse: Cancelled 

by jeyhawk

Word Count: 28,000

Link: https://jeyhawk-fic.livejournal.com/62095.html

Summary: July 7, 2008 at 2 a.m. in the morning a comet will hit Earth, destroying all human life. Humanity gets 54 hours to prepare and chaos ensues. A chance encounter has straight architect Jared Padalecki saving the life of deeply closeted movie star Jensen Ackles. The unlikely couple cling to each other during what they think will be their last days on earth, but what happens to the relationship they built when the world doesn't end after all? 

Slowly, with each touch and each kiss

by whisperedstory

Word Count: 24,136

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21607546

Summary: When Jensen starts coming to JD's, the cocktail bar where Jared works, Jared is instantly interested in him. What starts out as a one-night stand quickly becomes a casual arrangement that Jared could easily see turning into more. But Jensen isn't looking for something serious and Jared would rather settle for being friends with benefits than not having Jensen in his life at all.

Baby, it’s cold outside

by Merenwen76

Word Count: 35,245

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22177129

Summary: Christmas is the best time of the year for Jared. But this time he's caught in a blizzard. With his boss, of all people. - Jensen Ackles This one not only hates Christmas but is also extremely hot.

A song in the stars

by strive2bhappy

Word Count: 39,813

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11224314

Summary: Jared Padalecki has dreamed of taking to the skies since he was five-years-old. When he becomes an adult and builds a spaceship of his own, he gets to do just that, looking for adventure -- little did he know the adventure waiting for him. Jensen Ackles is born part human, part Terryn and his life as an outcast is difficult -- music is his only real escape. When he's captured by the Dominion, an organization hell-bent on taking over every galaxy in every way they can, he's used as a lab experiment to see how his special, combined heritage can be advantageous for them. Fleeing Dominion control, he vows to himself, they will never find him again. A chance meeting between Jared and Jensen helps both of them get what they're looking for -- and the way things end up, it may have been more than just chance. From various planets throughout different galaxies, to nights under the stars in space, Jared and Jensen find in each other something worth fighting -- and possibly dying -- for.

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Just Swimmingly ch.2 (BAON)

Summary: Jeff has a lot to think about and what better place to do it than at the bar with his best buddy, Stretch?

Tags:  Spicyhoney, Established Relationships,  Hurt/Comfort, Additional Tags To Come

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

The night wasn’t as young as it used to be, but to be fair, neither was Jeff. After a few hours of sitting on a bar stool, his tailbone would be more than willing to testify on that.

He leaned back against the bar in an effort to take some of his weight off of it, grimacing as he watched the dance floor. Colored lights flashed to the thrumming bass beat over the gyrating dancers and out in the thrashing sea of sweaty human bodies there was a head that was above almost all of them. Stretch towered over most humans and never was it more obvious than right then. The lights reflected off his smooth skull, a living disco ball, and around him other humans were laughing and cheering as they danced.

Edge would be having a conniption right about now and Jeff was a little bemused to find his anxiety having an internal dance competition of its own. Currently it was at ‘chachacha’ levels, watching all those Humans grinding up on Stretch. He didn’t want to think anyone here would hurt Stretch, intentionally or otherwise, but the threat of low HP always loomed. His trust in humanity took a pretty big dip a few months ago outside a Chinese restaurant and he had the scars to prove it.

Jeff took another sip of his drink. His straw crackled against the bottom of the glass as he finished it off, leaving only lonely ice cubes behind and he set it back on the bar as he settled back in for a little spare contemplation.

If he were honest, wasn’t a huge fan of the club scene even before he started dating Antwan. Not that he didn’t like going out but his problems with it were twofold. One, bars sucked to go to alone and back then he didn’t have a lot of real estate in the friend territory and two, it cost money. His disposable cash in those days was a lot like a pink unicorn: nonexistent.

Being friends with Stretch took care of both of those problems but a third loomed up to take their place like an unwanted acquaintance. Put bluntly, Jeff could not dance and until Kevin Bacon showed up to give him a few lessons, he probably wasn’t gonna learn how.

Not that he really minded that much. Guarding their drinks and listening to the music wasn’t a bad way to spend the night.

Besides, Stretch didn’t seem to care if he wasn’t up to evacuating the dance floor. He mostly let Jeff sit at the bar where he tried to look like someone with deep and mysterious thoughts to process instead of the person he actually was, far more likely to accidently spill his drink into his lap than anything else. On either side of him were other people doing the same, a row of wallflowers watching the dance floor with wistful envy.

Mostly Stretch left him to it but sometimes he’d bounce his way back and haul Jeff out for a song, any song, fast, slow, techno-bop, dubstep, didn’t matter to Stretch, he was an equal opportunist when it came to friendly torment and if Jeff felt a lot like Frankenstein’s monster tromping around next to Stretch’s lithe booty shake, eh, that was okay. Sacrificing a little dignity for a friend’s fun times was part of the package.

As far as he knew, Stretch didn’t go out to the clubs often either, but if there was one thing Jeff had learned when it came to Stretch, it was there were no half-measures. If he was in, he was all in, and that included drinking, dancing, and on the weekends, the occasional explosion caused by a thermal reaction. Truly a wide variety of hobbies came into play when hanging out with Stretch and going out to the bars pretty much guaranteed something interesting would happen.

Like the time they met those guys who’d come into town for the last beat poetry night. One of them mentioned liking Stretch’s Intergalactic Beastie Boys t-shirt so Stretch convinced them all to swap shirts and then swapped them around again, until they were all three shirts removed from the one they’d arrived in. Pants were a harder sell and if Stretch were ever hard up for money, he might take up selling ice to penguins because in no time they were all out on the sidewalk, firmly dismissed from Grillby’s over their rampant laughter drowning out the poet’s rambling about the burden of solitude. The Waffle House they ended up at had a less stringent dress code and all of them crammed into a booth to eat greasy breakfast food at two am in their boxer shorts. At least those were all their own and his plain cotton boxer briefs were no match against Stretch’s ‘wanna tickle my pickle’ pair.

He was pretty sure all those guys still followed Stretch on twitter.

He wondered what Edge had thought of Stretch wandering home in an entirely new wardrobe, minus pants. There was no way he didn’t notice, Edge was very intent on fashion, even Stretch’s version of it. Knowing him, he probably made Stretch strip right in the living room and soaked both him and his clothes in Lysol before burning his boxer shorts. The old-new t-shirt Jeff ended up with was hanging in closet even though it was two sizes too big for him. Antwan stole it sometimes for lounging around the house purposes and seeing him in it was always a cheap thrill.

Huh, now that he was thinking about it, he’d gone to the bar more this past year than in his whole life before. Not just with Stretch either, Blue and Papyrus had brought him along for karaoke a few times and that was an experience right there. Their singing was like a vocal interpretation of his dancing and just as painful for witnesses.

He’d even had a drink a couple of times with Red. Well, he’d been a tag along with Antwan but still. Red was still vaguely terrifying, but Jeff had gotten the occasional glimpse under his onion layers. He knew a little of what Edge and Red went through before they came here. His knowledge pretty much barely skimmed the surface, they’d both been soldiers and they might’ve gotten out alive, but not entirely unscathed. Knowing Red’s HP was similar to Stretch’s and he’d still survived? Perspective was a hell of a thing and it paid to look at Red from a slant.

Speaking of perspective, he was definitely liking the music. They were a local band and this place was close to the college, a good spot to hopefully get noticed and work their way up. The bar itself had probably been here for fifty years, the bartop pitted with scratches and scars from college students of yore, the stools definitely up for reupholstering.

It was really no surprise to find out that Stretch knew the current owner. He knew loads of people, wriggled his way into their lives a lot like he’d wriggled into Jeff’s. Only difference was, he didn’t usually let the other person wriggle back and yeah, okay, that metaphor was going in weird places, but the meaning stood. Stretch was good with shortcuts and he knew a lot of people, but he wasn’t necessarily friends with a lot. Jeff was pretty happy to be on the short list.

Knowing people came in handy, too, and bringing Stretch along always came with added perks. Catty only asked him to listen to the bands on the list to get a feel for their sound, but he’d be able to bring her a better report than that since they were going to go meet the band after their set was done. It would give him a chance feel them out, see if they were even interested in participating in the Midnight Monster Jamboree, as Catty had slyly dubbed it. After everything went down in California, they needed some serious good will.

The Monster community had been found not at fault for what happened right away, but Antwan told him court cases would be dragging on for a while yet. When Humans died, other Humans wanted someone to pay, and Monsters were easy scapegoats for unreasonable anger. His team was working their butts off on it, Antwan coming home at night so very tired, mostly falling into Jeff’s arms to sleep and yet still so grimly determined. Jeff couldn’t do much about all that, but he could try his damnedest to get their big public relations event off the ground.

The idea was to have a huge event for Humans and Monsters together and for it to be held in New New Home. Asgore thought that some of the problems with Humans might be a result of them thinking Monsters had something to hide, so what better way to show them who Monsters really were than a chance to see into their supposedly secret lives.

Jeff was on the lowest rung for planning and even from his view, it looked like a nightmare. Security details made up of both Human and Monsters, background checks, food, entertainment. Access was going to be extremely limited and the guest list was daunting; there were going to be some big names in politics and entertainment. That circled back to his job, getting some local bands together for the opening shows. Partly good public relations, but also an earnest desire to help out a few struggling locals with the kind of exposure most groups could only dream about. That was so like Monsters, trying to help others in the midst of helping themselves, but it sure was a lot of damn pegs getting shoved into so many slots.

He didn’t even want to know what Edge’s current schedule looked like.

There was a soft thud behind him and Jeff turned to see the bartender was bringing him another drink. The guy was probably somewhere around his age, unless you were gauging it by his world-weary expression, which probably put him at about right around three hundred.

He must’ve known Stretch, too. When they saw each other, he youthened to a spry two hundred and seventy after a complicated series of fist bumps. As an added bonus, he’d been keeping their drinks topped up and as someone who usually couldn’t even get a bartender to see him much less pour him a drink, Jeff sure did appreciate the VIP service.

He started reaching for his drink, but a sudden tap on his shoulder startled him. He turned around. A guy he didn’t recognize was standing there, not too bad on the eyes and weirdly nervous, enough that Jeff thought he might actually be trying to pick him up before he noticed the guy was holding something out.

“Did you drop this?” the guy said, barely loud enough to be heard over the music. It was a wallet and Jeff automatically checked his back pocket even as his eyes told him it wasn’t his.

He shook his head and the guy nodded, but instead of asking anyone else or handing it to the bartender, he wandered off towards the entrance.

Okay, that was odd. Jeff shrugged mentally, lots of weird people at the bar, maybe he was going to give it to the guy at the door in case whoever lost it noticed when they left.

He forgot about it as Stretch came back from the dance floor, sweat gleaming on his skull and face. That always gave Jeff a little pause, what exact purpose did sweating serve for a skeleton? Maybe he’d ask sometime when he was less busy with work. If Stretch didn’t know the answer to something, the journey to find out tended to be entertaining, and possibly less explosive this time around, although he wouldn’t put the chances at zero.

Stretch grinned at him, still panting, and picked up his own drink, gulping down half of it in one swallow. Jeff couldn’t remember was it was. Stretch tended to order more for the name than the taste, so it was probably something like a slippery nipple or a total screaming orgasm. Whatever it was, a skewer of fruit was floating in it and Stretch fished it out, pulling the cherry off the end with his teeth.

“so what do you think of the band?” Stretch asked, perfectly audible even over the loud music. There was another point of interest; when your voice was produced by magic, it didn’t always obey the rules of sound. “gonna give catty the thumbs up?

“I like it,” Jeff shrugged. He could barely hear his own voice, trusting that magical hearing worked the same way as speaking, “but I’m not the greatest judge of music. That’s why I bring you along.”

Stretch chuckled and propped his elbows on the bar, slouching back. It put him almost at head level with Jeff and the shirt he’d almost certainly borrowed from Edge pulled tight across his ribcage. “think i’m a better simon cowell than you?”

“No, you’re more Paula Abdul, and anyway, two heads are better than one.” Jeff played with the straw in his own drink. “Jokes aside, this is important, I don’t want to mess it up.”

“you’re not gonna mess it up.” Stretch scoffed. He bit a chunk of pineapple in half before polishing off the rest of his drink. “how even? you’re doing double-duty as it is. henry said once they’re finished, we can meet them backstage. i’ll have a chat with them, we’ll see if they’re assholes, and good to go! besides, it’s not like security isn’t gonna give ‘em a good, hard rundown, anyway.”

It was the truth and he knew it, but there was always that niggling little doubt in the back of his mind, that somehow he’d find a way to mess it up, and that would be it. This was so important to the Monster community and his chance to finally payback some of what’d they’d given him. He could do this, Jeff told himself, and he’d do it right.

The band started a new set, something with a low, growling bassline and Jeff turned back to watch, only to freeze as Stretch suddenly spoke again, the single word clear as a bell in church.

“jeff.”

The name caught his attention as much as the tone, Stretch never called him Jeff, it was always Andy or kiddo or whatever nickname was currently floating his proverbial boat. The last time he’d called Jeff by his actual name, he’d been lying in a parking lot in a pool of his own blood. The taste of hot metal was strong on the back of his tongue as he turned back to Stretch, his heart pounding, and some cringing part of him expected to see that friendly face instead as the one that appeared sometimes in his worst dreams, a deathmask with one socket dark and blank, the other strobing orange with grim intensity.

But Stretch only looked like his normal self and when he spoke again, each word was calmly measured and deliberate. "i don't feel right. i think we should go."

Somehow, that was even more alarming, and his worry quickly overshadowed any lingering bad memories that were vying for his attention.

“Sure,” Jeff said, “right now.” He hopped down from the stool. Stretch pushed off from the bar and staggered, leaning hard against Jeff and thank fuck he was light because his height already made it awkward to hold him up. He started to call for the bartender, maybe there was someplace they could sit down in the back while he called Edge, when another guy came up next to them, helping hold Stretch up. Then another on Jeff’s side and he started to protest that he didn’t need help when a voice growled close to his ear.

"Don’t look at me. Keep your mouth shut or I'll kill you."

It was followed by the sensation of something hard butting into his ribs and this could not be happening. This did not happen in the real world, this wasn’t a Jason Bourne movie, there could not be a gun pressed to his side right now. Even his own fear was sitting on the sidelines, pushed out by disbelief as Jeff stumblingly followed the guiding arm around him leading towards the door. The crowd reluctantly parted and next to them, Stretch was shuffling along, his eye lights blown wide and fuzzily diffused. He started sagging, his skull lolling back on his shoulders and around them were murmurs, people starting to notice.

“Hey, what’s going on? Stretch?” From the direction of the bar, and Jeff glanced back wildly to catch the bartender watching with dawning concern. There was no time to say a word, to even mouth a desperate ‘help’ before he was forcibly swung back around and pushed through the door.

The cold night air was like a slap in the face, sobering, and fear was starting to sink its teeth in past his disbelief. The guy next to him was keeping back out of his line of sight and he could only barely see the one on Stretch, dark hair, taller, burly, did he have a gun, too, who were they and why—?

By the entrance, the bouncer looked up in surprise as they walked past. “Hey, Stretch, you guys, okay?”

“Fuck off!” The man holding onto Jeff barked and the gun swung towards the bouncer. There was a beat of incongruous silence broken by the strains of music coming from inside the bar, then a girl screamed, the waiting crowd scattering.

“Fuck! Get them in the car!” A different voice, loud and panicky and he caught another glimpse of dark hair before he was shoved forward again. He stumbled, almost falling to his knees among the cigarette butts that scattered the asphalt, and the memory of another parking lot was strong, the swell of panic gagging him.

He didn’t resist as he was pushed towards a van, the side door sliding open and then he was inside it, collapsing across the backseat.

Weight dropped directly on top of him with a clatter of bones and Jeff grunted, trying to push Stretch off of him enough to sit up. Only to lose his balance again as the van squealed away from the curb, the tangle of his own limbs catching with Stretch’s limp ones.

A new voice barked from the direction of the driver’s seat. “Get their phones, hurry up!”

Rough hands grabbing at them, and Jeff instinctively tried to recoil, but there was nowhere to go. His phone was yanked from his pocket and Stretch didn’t say a word, only breathing with a slurry snore into Jeff’s ear. There was the sound of a power window going down, of tires squealing against asphalt and the inside of the van was too dark to see.

Not that it mattered. Rough hands hauled Jeff upright and the person they belonged to was wearing a ski mask like a fucking heist cliché. Jeff choked back a hysterical laugh, but even panicked amusement took a backseat when ski mask demanded, “Okay, both of you need to strip.”

Jeff only stared in mute horror, barely comprehending as a duffle bag was suddenly thrust at them.

“Change into these,” Ski Mask ordered, “Don’t get any funny ideas.”

There was a pun there, Stretch would have been able to think of one. Would have if he wasn’t lying slumped across the seat. His sockets were still open, but his eye lights were dim and unseeing, the lights were on and no one was home, not quite a pun but it’d have to do.

“Please, don’t hurt him,” Jeff said. He tried not to look at the guy with the gun as he carefully opened the duffle and pulled out the clothes inside, choosing his words with the same care. “He’s…he’s fragile, just a punch and you could kill him. Please.”

“Then don’t make us do anything that’ll get him hurt.”

Good advice from a shitty source.

Jeff scrambled into the oversized t-shirt and sweatpants in the bag, then helped the other…what, kidnapper? Asshole was the strongest contender in his head and that was what Jeff went with. Helped Asshole #2 get Stretch change into his. The guy was brusque but not ungentle, at least, and the second they were finished, the van pulled up next to a dumpster. A fourth asshole sitting in the front seat hopped out, tossing all their clothes plus the bag into it. Four against two, not including guns, not the best odds. Like Jeff would have been much help even if it were mano a mano. He sure as hell wasn’t a fighter past panicked desperation and he wasn’t about to hinge Stretch’s life on that.

“Now, sit back and relax,” said Asshole With A Gun. “You two behave and no one gets hurt, okay?”

Jeff knew a lie when he heard one. He nodded anyway and huddled into the seat, one arm looped around Stretch to offer what feeble protection he could. His skull resting in Jeff’s lap was a familiar weight from movie nights and Netflix marathons. His unconsciousness was not, but he was alive, they both were. It was a place to start.

Jeff kept silent, petting the smooth curve of Stretch’s skull as he watched the streetlights flash by and waited to see what came next.

tbc

[todaydreambelieversfic]

Author Spotlight: Gleefuldarrencrissfan Day 1

Author: @gleefuldarrencrissfan

How did you get into Glee and Glee fandom?

I'm a huge music fan, and I started watching the show after it ended because I loved the music that I heard in the pilot.  I wasn't really paying attention to the plotlines, and honestly, I didn't really like many of the characters and storylines in season 1.  However, I made it to season 2 and fell in love with Blaine, Sam, and a much less manipulative Kurt.  After that, I was hooked.

In general, what drew you into writing (and/or creating)?

I've always loved writing, but I mostly wrote poetry and even lyrics and Dr. Seuss like rhymes.  I started writing when I was a teen, and honestly, I've never stopped.  You'll find poems, lyrics, and children's verse interspersed throughout my stories because I still love writing various forms of writing.  I'm actually writing several children's stories right now as well. 

What was it about Glee that made you decide to write fanfic for it?

Honestly, my frustration with the lack of Klaine and Blaine storylines drove me to write my first story, Courage, which was Blaine's season 1 story. I also wanted desperately to get feedback on writing.  So I started writing Courage and posted.  After that, I loved writing and interacting with other fans so much that I just kept going. 

Have you been a part of other fandoms before? Have you written fanfiction pre-glee?

Not really.  I had other shows that I loved but I wasn't really a hardcore fan of other shows except Cold Case, where I would analyze and discuss particular episodes on message boards.  I never wrote fanfiction until I started writing for glee. 

Is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to?

Fake dating sounds fun, as does enemies to lovers.  I have ideas for both.  I also love best friends to lovers. 

Is there a trope you wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole?

Quite a few.  I would not write BDSM, MPreg, dark fic, intense gore, and any troupe where the characters are extremely ooc (like prostitute or porn star Blaine or Kurt).  I like keeping my versions of Blaine and Kurt fairly close to their real characters, and I just don't feel like their characters would be into any of this.  Not to mention, I'm kind of a PG13 type of girl who doesn't really like watching or reading things that are dark or explicit, so writing it would be extremely ooc for me. 

How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?

Oh man.  I have so many.  The main one that I keep coming back to is called Hummel's Haven of Hope, which will be an AU where Burt establishes a home for gay youth after Kurt attempts suicide (as explored in episode 2009 when he picks up a pamphlet about ending it all.) Kurt recovers and meets a young man after he was bashed and disowned.  That young man just happens to be Blaine Anderson.  The story will tell of their recoveries, their growth, and their inevitable love story.  I don't know when I'll start this.  I have so many irons in the fire. 

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Check out Gleefuldarrencrissfan’s Fics

Rim Job -  Kurt tells Blaine he wants to give him a rim job. A rim job doesn't exactly mean what Kurt thought it did.

Zoom Mates -  Kurt Hummel is a once-respected illustrator that's being punished for one misfortunate mistake by being assigned to novice writers that either lack motivation or inspiration until his boss introduces him to a talented up and coming author and former teacher, Blaine Anderson. The catch. It's March 2020, and they are quarantined and they have to conduct their meetings over Zoom.

Love, Blaine -  Blaine Anderson is a typical teenager. Except he’s not because he’s hiding a huge secret. He’s gay. But after reading a confession on the informal Dalton blog, he discovers that he’s not the only closeted boy at Dalton. After a moment of courage, he emails him and ultimately starts up a friendship that will change life as he knows it. Loosely based on Love, Simon.

[itsnsfwalways]

Canyon Moon

FIC MASTERLIST

warnings for ch 3: mentions of drug use (weed), swearing, oral sex (m! and f! receiving), a hint of degradation if you squint

chapter 3: you’re so golden

The sun hitting your eyes was the first thing that woke you up, the warmth inviting, but also very bright. Scrunching you’re face up, you tug the blanket over your head, turning to the side and taking a deep breath in. You find giving your body a few minutes to wake up before you force yourself out of bed makes you feel so much more awake and in a good mood.

Stretching your back, you rub the sleep out of your eyes and roll out of bed, trudging to the bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth.

Yawning as you walk into the kitchen, you make yourself an iced coffee before starting on breakfast. Putting on Rumours, you sing quietly to yourself while making a scramble with a bunch of veggies to get your greens in early.

Heading back to your room with hot sauce in hand, you light some incense and take a few bong rips before eating your breakfast quietly on the window sill. That was something you absolutely LOVED about your room, the edge of the window was just wide enough for you to sit (or lay down) and admire the view of palm trees and beautiful blue skies.

Opening up Misery, you finish a few chapters and mindlessly eat for a bit, listening to the birds chirp and the buzz of the city waking up. Once you finish your food, you go sit cross legged on your meditation pillow, facing the floor length mirror as you make sure your posture is straight. Putting on your favorite meditation music, which, at the moment, is 432hz Healing Tones, you take a deep breath in, clearing your mind and allowing the sun and healing vibrations to roll over you. You imagine yourself breathing in healing energy and nothing but love, and exhaling all of the stuck, negative energy, trying to ‘push’ it out with your breath. Sometimes it felt a bit silly, but if it made you feel loads better, why not do it?

About twenty minutes pass before you slowly blink open your eyes, yawning quietly before going into child’s pose, stretching your back and hips after sitting for so long.

Lying down on your back on the mat, you stare up at the ceiling, feeling an overall sense of being okay. Your body feels good, your mind feels good, your stomach’s full of butterflies that make you smile and blush at the thought of seeing Harry in a bit.

Pulling yourself up with a grunt, you throw on a swim suit and a random pair of shorts, not caring to bring a real top. After applying a bit of sunscreen on your face and shoulders, you slide into your flip flops and fill up a water bottle before heading out the door.

Unlocking Sunflower, you sit on the edge of the side door while sliding on your scuffed white rollerskates with obnoxiously bright blue wheels. They were your pride and joys, and made you feel as if you were in a different time, enjoying the breeze on your cheeks as you skate towards your spot. The journey only took about 15 minutes, with minimal stumbles, so it was already turning out to be a great day.

Finally pulling up to the small lot, you squat down to pull of your skates, putting them behind a rock along with your socks and shorts. You shook your head as you sprinted towards the ocean, leaping into the freezing water. It was the only way you were able to get in, you were never one to wade slowly in. Swimming about half a mile out, the waves crash over you coolly, soothing your quickly warming body. It was going to be a hot day today, good to know. Treading water, you look at the coast, everything looking so small. You made sure to breathe in, capturing this exact moment in memory. The feeling of salty water on your skin, wet hair stuck to your neck and the slight burn in your arms, but this was it. This was pure bliss.

But, you’re also not insane, so after a bit you swim back to shore, spending about ten minutes doing handstands and flips before getting out, wringing out your hair on your way up the beach. Climbing up the pile of large rocks next to cliff, you lay on top of a relatively flat one, allowing your body to dry off for a little bit and give you a few extra moments of sun.

You always hated dusting off your feet for forever before getting back in your socks and skates, but rather that than get sand in them.

“Fuck, I really am killing it today,” you pant to yourself, definitely feeling a burning in your thighs as you start heading home, desperately wanting a shower and some chocolate.

Throwing your skates in Sunflower, you slam the door closed and trudge up the steps to the apartment, practically falling over as you enter the door.

Laura looks up from her phone, perched on the countertop eating a bowl of cereal.

“Look at you, sexy girl, how was the water?” She teases, handing you a banana from the counter immediately because she knows you need it.

“Good,” you sigh, taking a bite and moaning, leaning against the wall for a minute in silence.

“When’s your date with Harry again?” She asks, glancing at the clock.

Oh fuck.

The clock read 10:30.

“Okay, that’s not bad, I just need to get my ass in gear,” you convince yourself, throwing the banana away and grabbing a spoonful of peanut butter. You didn’t have time to make yourself anything else, plus you were eating with Harry soon anyways.

“You got this. Do I get to meet him?” Laura encourages, raising her thumbs at you.

You laugh and nod. “Absolutely, just don’t ask about his exes or I’m going to look crazy.”

“Got it, no exes. Get in the shower, you’re dripping everywhere!”

You run upstairs, yelling back, “I’ll clean it up,” as you head into your room, turning on Currents by Tame Impala to pump you up as you shower, quickly washing your hair and body, shaving the itty bitty stubble just in case.

Running some curl cream through your hair, you try and scrunch and dry your hair as fast as possible, which doesn’t really work, but at least you tried.

A bathrobe envelopes you as you sit down at your small vanity, starting on a little bit of makeup. Dabbing a bit of concealer on your undereyes and small blemishes, you keep it semi-natural with just bronzer, blush, and highlighter, admittedly a ton, but who’s to say. Brushing your brows out and filling in the ends a little darker, all that goes on your eyes is a brown eyeshadow and a beautiful gold pigment, then comes drenching your eyelashes in mascara.

You turn your attention back to your hair, thank god you were having extremely good luck today, because it fell perfectly, the layers framing your face so elegantly that you had to smile at your reflection. Self-love is a journey, and you were glad to be in a good space.

Checking your phone finally, you find a text from Harry, sent 2 hours ago. Whoops.

Good morning, Y/N, just wanted to make sure we’re still on for 12. Hope you slept well.

Well, it’s confirmed, you’re a completely asshole. It’s 11:15 and you still haven’t responded to a text about a date happening at NOON.

AHH IM SO SORRY hi harry ! i don’t check my phone for a while in the mornings, i’m the worst, i know. we definitely are still on, haha, noon still work for you ?

You throw your phone on your bed while you stare at your closet, trying to find a good outfit for today.

Eventually coming to a pair of high waisted white shorts that you got from your mom, thankfully having the same waistline as her in high school, and a light blue silk tank top with gold straps. Planning on wearing your black boots with the gold detailing, because, hey, it seems you’ve got to up your fashion game dealing with Harry, you place them next to your bedroom door before checking your phone.

You scared me for a minute, I was about to go eat a very sad lunch by myself. I’m going to start heading over, that alright by you?

You giggle quietly at his response, typing out,

sounds great :) i’m planning on wearing a pair of boots, should i bring sandals or anything ?

Woah, trying to outdress me?

He sends the next one moments later.

Just teasing, boots will be fine. We’re going to this cafe I really like.

of course i’m going to out dress you, who do you think i am ? and awesome !! see you in a bit !!

You grab a small black bag, putting your sunglasses case, gum, keys, wallet, chapstick, lighter, your dab pen (you never know), and a small rollerball perfume inside. Sliding in some gold hoops and placing your rings back on your fingers, you wiggle them a bit. They always look a bit naked without them on.

Putting on your boots, you head into the bathroom to brush your teeth once more before Harry arrives. But nope, the doorbell, rings as soon as you start brushing your molars.

“Shit,” you gasp, heading over to the door, toothbrush in hand.

You swing open the door and rush out, “Hey, Harry, I’ll be out in two seconds, come on in.”

Taking in his appearance, you grin at the white sunglasses pushed in his hair. Wearing a white t shirt, it’s tucked into a pair of blue pants that matches your shirt to a goddamn T, which you can’t help but laugh at as you walk away. Passing Laura in the hallway, you give her a look as she walks over to him.

Their conversation travels through your open door as you finish brushing your teeth.

“You must be Laura,” Harry starts, and you can just see him reaching his hand out.

“I am, it’s great to meet you,” she says, her smile bleeding into her voice.

“You have a beautiful home, so close to the beach too,” Harry compliments.

“Thank you, yeah, Y/N found this place forever ago and we’ve been living here since we moved out. My dad knew the landlord and they gave us a ridiculously low price for it, but I am not complaining.”

“Oh that’s sick, I’ve been in Malibu for just a bit, always kind of changing my location around LA and England.”

“That was what we thought we were going to do, but I definitely am glad we stayed here. Living in the city is fun and all, but it’s a lot, you know? We need our peace and quiet at home.”

You walk back out, purse and phone in hand, taking in their positioning. Laura’s sitting on a stool, cup of coffee in hand as Harry stands across from her, eyes on you as soon as you walked out.

“I’ll see you later,” you grin at Laura, sneaking another glance at Harry as you give her a quick hug.

“Okay, bye! Nice meeting you, Harry!” she smiles, and of course he replies with the same.

You close the door behind the two of you and he looks you up and down again, meeting your eyes and smiling.

“Hi,” you breathe out, his eyes capturing you immediately.

“Hi,” he whispers back, squeezing your exposed side. “You look really good, Y/N.”

You bite your lip to hide your smile, placing your hands on his shoulders, feeling the fabric (but really just his muscles). His hands immediately go to cup your waist, not pulling you in, just holding you.

“So do you. Like the blue,” you grin, moving your hands down to his waistband.

“Proper matching, I’d say,” he cheekily smiles, thumbs feeling the edge of your shirt’s material along your ribs, your breath hitching slightly at his movement.

You’re the first to pull away, moving your hand to lace your fingers together, tugging him gently down the stairs. He follows after you, squeezing your hand with his and shaking his head, trying to mask his smile by twitching his nose.

That gorgeous being of a car is parked in front of your house, the color alone bringing a smile to your lips, but now the top was down, which was about to make this a lot more fun.

“God, Harry, I might have to steal this from you,” you sigh, arms crossed as you look up at him seriously.

He laughs loudly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“Maybe one day I’ll let you drive it,” He whispers, kissing the top of your head before pulling away and opening your door like nothing happened.

You stand there still for a moment before blinking and getting in, holding his hands on the door when he closes it. Turning your body, you lean out the door, placing your hands next to his as you whisper in his ear,

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

Sliding your lips along his cheek as you pull away, you plop back into the chair, putting on your sunglasses and messing with your hair a bit.

Harry clears his throat before walking around the car, sliding into the driver’s side and starting the car.

“Do you want to play music?” He slowly asks, his tone sending shivers down your legs.

You perk up at this, nodding quickly and taking the aux cord from him.

“I’d love to. Have you heard of Tash Sultana? They released an EP a few years ago, their voice is incredible. They make all their own loops and play every instrument by themselves.”

Harry gives you a side eye, grinning as he says,

“That’s some pretty new music for you, princess.”

Your lips part slightly and Harry watches closely as your cheeks flush, licking the side of his mouth with a grin.

“Have I found a nickname you like, Y/N?” His voice has raised slightly, obvious excitement in his expression.

“Only sometimes,” you shrug, trying to play that off as cool as possible. “And yeah, my ex actually introduced me to their music.”

Harry raises his eyes at this, bringing a finger to his lips to hold his laugh in.

“Why the fuck did I say that?” Your hands go up to your face as Harry finally laughs at you, turning the volume down just a little to listen to you.

Sighing for a second, you pull your hands away before blurting out,

“I don’t want you to think that I’m lying to you about not knowing your music or you, because I do listen to stuff released now, obviously. I’m not a music snob or one of those too cool for school people because I absolutely blast SZA when I’m drunk and I’m starting to overthink and-“

Harry cuts you off by taking your jaw in his hand, turning your face towards him. Perfect timing, as always, pulling up to a red light right when he needs it.

“Hey,” he whispers with a smile, stroking your cheek. “I don’t think that you’re lying to me, and I understand. I was kind of a dick for saying all that right away to be honest, but I get it. I listen to mostly oldies too, if I really think about it.”

You exhale, looking up at him.

“Okay. I’m still going to freak out about it and make sure you know.”

He squeezes your jaw slightly, scrunching his nose.

“No,” he cutely protests, and you can’t help but giggle.

He smiles in return and lets your jaw go, hands going back to grip the wheel a little bit tighter

The two of you drive for a little bit, not really saying anything. You can’t help but dance in your seat to the beat, silently mouthing the lyrics to yourself. Harry keeps glancing over at you, too, grinning at the way you blush when he notices you doing it.

“How was your morning so far?” You start, just wanting to hear him talk.

He has to talk a little bit louder over the wind, but he’s happy to get the conversation started.

“Quite good actually. I’m going to Cabo in a couple weeks and was just getting some early packing in. Don’t you hate when you go somewhere and realize you forgot something like a toothbrush at home?”

“It’s the worst, I always end up having to go to a corner store and get something. What’s in Cabo?” You ask, already so amazed at his lifestyle.

“Friend of mine is having a birthday, so we’re there for a bit celebrating, going to be an amazing trip. Happy to be here, though,” he adds, eyes flicking to yours as he says it.

“I’d be worried if you weren’t.”

“What about you? How was your morning?”

“Really good. Sorry about not texting you back for so long, by the way. I just have this thing about using technology right after I wake up, it gives me pretty bad headaches so I go as long as I can without it unless I hear it ring. But it was super productive, I got a good breakfast and read in, meditated a bit, skated to the beach and went for a swim, then got ready for this.”

“You put me to shame, Y/N, you really do.” Harry laughs, running a hand through his hair.

“I just woke up in a really good mood. I can definitely be grumpy in the morning, I’ll tell you that,” you try to explain, scared of feeling too pretentious.

“Yeah? I can see you throwing a fit if someone wakes you up before you’re ready,” Harry nonchalantly says, looking at the rings on his fingers before checking your reaction.

Cheeks hot, you feel almost scolded by him, thankful for the large sunglasses on your face.

“You’re not wrong,” you finally agree, crossing your legs smoothly.

That doesn’t go unnoticed by Harry, reaching a hand down to rest on your thigh almost immediately. His large hand wraps around your skin, thumb immediately starting to go in small circles.

“I started meditating a few years ago but I absolutely love it, I feel like it allows you to start the morning off right.”

Taking a deep breath before answering, you nod and say,

“Completely agree. It still can feel a bit weird doing it when I’m in a mood or anything, but whether you believe in it or not, having all that negative energy in you without doing anything about it isn’t good for you.”

“You’re quite cute when you talk about things you like. Light up like a little sun,” Harry smirks, pulling his sunglasses up to look at you, the piece of gum in his teeth allowing his jawline to be even more prominent. You do the same, placing them in your lap as you uncross your legs, his hand staying on your left thigh as it goes back towards the seat.

“Yeah?” You don’t stop looking at him, watching his eyes flit between you and the road.

Harry hums before adding, “I think you know that though.”

“That I’m quite arguably the epitome of all things golden? Of course, but it’s always nice to hear.”

You make a noise of protest as Harry removes his thigh to make a left, while simultaneously laughing at you.

“You are absolutely golden, love, don’t you forget it.”

He pauses for a moment before starting again.

“I’m going to warn you right now that there might be some photos taken of you when we go in or leave, or fans coming to take pictures. If that bothers you-“

Cutting him off quickly, you sit up, shaking your head.

“I dressed cute for a reason, if it happens it happens. I’m going to be pissed if someone comes for my outfit though.” You giggle at yourself and grab Harry’s hand, squeezing it gently. “I know what I’m signing up for. You’re good.”

Squeezing back, he looks down at his lap for a moment before glancing back at you, eyes so sincere your heart clenches a little.

“Thank you. Just... need a little reminder sometimes too.”

Unlacing your fingers, you stick your pinkie out, swearing, “I promise that I will always remind you that you’re not going to cause me any problems, and I’m not going to do the same. You promise to always remind me I’m golden?”

“‘Course, love. Was gonna do that anyways,” Harry chuckles, intertwining your fingers, heartbeat going just a little bit faster.

He couldn’t explain it, didn’t want to admit it to himself even, but your presence made his world just a little bit brighter. He couldn’t get you out of his mind, your smile, giggle, and sweet-smelling perfume was all he could think about since last night. His brain was trying to come up with reasons why this was a bad idea, how you could be using him, you were going to break his heart and leave without a second glance. But one look at your face, those eyes looking at him with so much wonder, made him hate the part of himself looking for excuses. These feelings felt way too much, too fast, but all he knew was he wanted to call you his girl. His sweet Y/N.

Parking his car next to some trees, he runs over to open your door, helping you step out and shutting the door behind you, placing the cover on the car quickly. The two of you walk into the cafe in silence, arms swaying next to each other. You figured he wasn’t comfortable holding hands in public on the first date.

The atmosphere of the Beachwood Cafe was everything you could want in a coffee shop. Absolutely stunning artwork covering the walls, a checkerboard floor, fun colors splattered all over. Your face must show how excited you were because you feel Harry bump you, grinning down at you. You hum, smile on your cheeks as he holds your face in his hands for a second.

“Like it?” You nod happily at his question, following the waitress to your table, one in the furthest corner from the door.

“Can I start you off with some drinks?” She asks, setting menus in front of the two of you. Harry gestures for you to go first and you quirk an eyebrow before turning.

“Can I please get a large iced coffee with some honey? Thank you so much,” you add, looking Angie, her nametag reads, in the eye.

“And for you?”

“A large iced americano would be wonderful, thank you, love.” Flashing that award-winning smile at her, she writes down his order and heads back to the front.

“This place is really cute, Harry,” you gush. “Thanks for bringing me here.”

His chest tightens at your cute face looking at him from across the table, the amount of gratitude coming from you at all times filling him with light.

“‘Course, honey. You don’t have to thank me,” He earnestly tells you, placing his chin in his hand.

“I know, but I feel like I need to,” you trail off, looking at one of the names of the scrambles on the menu. Snapping your eyes back up to him, Harry can tell where you’re going with this.

“Please don’t,” he half-laughs, half begs.

“But it’s so easy,” you pout, grinning when he sighs and waves his hand for you to continue.

“Should I ask how strong the Weid scramble is going to hit?”

Groaning into his palm, Harry tries his hardest not to laugh, but can’t help one escaping when you kick him under the table.

“Satisfied?”

“Very,” you nod, looking over the menu once more. “Have you had the Thai noodle salad? That looks hella good.”

“It is ‘hella’ good,” Harry teases, using quotation marks in the air.

“Right then, love, what’re you getting?” You respond in a British accent, folding up your menu.

“Probably the Brussels sprouts salad, it’s my usual here.”

You open your mouth to say something before your drinks are placed in front of you, Angie asking if the two of you are ready to order. Harry goes ahead and orders for the two of you, delicately grabbing the menu from your hands to hand it back to her with a charming smile on his face. Watching her walk away, you grab your drink, lifting it for a cheers.

“To living,” you simply state, Harry repeating it with a look in his eyes you can’t quite name.

“So,” you start, adjusting your position in your seat for a second. “You said you’re writing for your second album, right?”

Harry nods, licking his lips as he pulls away from his glass, catching the way your eyes wander to his mouth.

“Sort of. I want to, you know, take a break, try and just have some fun, rather than jump straight into writing and recording again. At the same time, I really fucking miss it. Writing and being in the studio and getting all that out just feels so good.”

The way his accent wraps around his words makes it hard for you to focus on what he’s saying all the way, realizing he’s waiting on you to respond.

“I definitely think you could use some down time. But that also doesn’t mean you have to stop making music. Write out your ideas when they come to you, and when you feel like you’re ready, start pumping them all out. I’m willing to bet $100 that you already have at least a few songs under your belt, though, am I wrong?” You grin at the headshake Harry gives you, catching the blush on his cheeks. “I knew it! We all do, it’s impossible to just not write, but don’t worry about timelines or due dates. You can’t rush art.”

“God, it’s just so good to hear out loud, I feel like you already know me,” Harry shakes his head, pushing his hair away from his face with one hand.

“I’m pretty good at reading people, I’d like to say,” your arm raising above you as you stretch a little, tilting your head from side to side.

Seeing your neck arch and the way your veins move slightly under your skin causes Harry to have to clear his throat a little, taking a sip of his drink as he feels his forehead start to sweat.

“What kind of artists do you normally write for?” He blurts out, trying to figure out how to get to know more about you in a roundabout way.

“If you’re offering me a job, I’m walking out right now,” you warm, raising your eyebrows. “Kidding. I don’t know, really, I write for a lot of my friends, like I said, when they need help on some of their own projects, or if I’m hanging out in the studio I get pulled around the rooms for a different set of ears. Working with Khalid was one of my favorite experiences, though, he was so fucking cool.”

Harry’s eyes sparkle at this, perking up.

“Love Khalid. He is so talented, and hilarious. I swear, my stomach was aching after being with him for a little while. I only asked because I think I’m trying to figure you out a bit. I just wanna get to know ya,” He shrugs, fingertips tapping on his glass.

“I wish you good luck on that task, Harry, I really do. The first step in recovering is admitting you need help,” you solemnly nod, bursting out laughing when he rolls his eyes and ATTEMPTS to hide his smile.

Your food is placed in front of you suddenly, and you jump, glaring at Harry for smirking at your reaction. He couldn’t help it, you were like a little puppy, overexcited and always jumping from place to place. Harry starts eating right away, sending you a quizzical look when you sit with your hands in your lap, almost like you’re waiting for something.

“You going to start eating, honey?” He gently presses, snapping you out of wherever you went.

“Sorry,” you blush, grabbing your fork and shaking your head a little. “I don’t know what the fuck that was about.”

Fuck, yes you did, and Harry knew that. You were waiting for his permission, and that thought alone sent you into a daze. Closing your eyes around the fork, you fought off the urge to moan and tried to push the fact that he already holds so much control over you out of your head. Snapping them open, you find Harry’s eyes on you, the look in them dangerous. Clearing your throat, you whisper, “It’s really good,” which Harry responds with a simple hum, leaning forward on his elbows towards you.

“You tell me if this is too forward or too much, yeah?”

Your lips part as you nod your head, not really ready for what’s about to cross his lips.

“I’ve been noticing certain... things that you do and, well, are you a sub, darling?”

Your throat dries, unable to break eye contact or even speak, only nodding when he squints his eyes a little at you. Fuck, this was not happening, you thought, reaching to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.

“Like to hear that pretty voice of yours, yeah?” Harry urges you, hands fighting off the urge to hold your jaw in his fingertips.

“Yeah,” you sigh, taking a swig of coffee to think of something to say. “I’m going to assume you’re a dominant,” pausing to let Harry nod, jaw moving as he chews. You throw your hands up, leaning back in your seat.

“You are the complete package, Harry, shit.”

He laughs at this, covering his mouth quickly. “‘S’all you. A dream, really.”

Your heart flutters at this, shit, no, this is a FIRST date, you cannot be feeling like this. Taking a bite of your food, you are able to just sit back and look at him. Watch how he sticks his tongue out while he puts a bite in his mouth, something you’ve done since you were a kid for no reason. How his hands look almost sinful holding the white napkin to his lips.

“Staring at me, love,” he comments after a few minutes, his eyes looking at you sweetly, like he didn’t mind, but just needed to call you out.

“Merde, je veux te sucer,” you breathe out in French, banking on him not understanding you.

“Viliane,” Harry tuts, clicking his tongue at you. Before you’re able to answer, Harry is handing his card to the waitress who passed your table, asking for two boxes for your meals.

Your eyes snap to his, all the oxygen leaving your body as he brings your plate his side, getting ready to pack it up for you.

“W-Where?” Is all you manage, drinking the rest of your coffee, before setting it down on the table, a drop of honey falling down your lip. Harry can’t help but swipe it off with his thumb, slowly placing it in his mouth afterwards, not breaking eye contact, with you.

“I live nearby. That alright with you?”

Nodding slowly, you sit quietly in the booth as Angie comes back with the check and two boxes, legs bouncing excitedly as Harry packages the food up.

“Come on, lovely, let’s get out of here,” he tells you, holding you by your elbow as you walk outside, heading straight for the car. He doesn’t bother taking the top off, opening your door for you without a word and shutting it, almost sprinting to the driver’s side.

His hand finds your thigh immediately, rings shocking the delicate skin and making your muscles tense, his fingers quickly moving to massage out these aches.

“You wanna give me a safeword, pretty girl?” His voice drips with confidence, his hands moving closer to where you needed him most. His eyes keep flickering back to you while trying to focus on the road. His curls are a mess around his sunglasses, the brown hair swallowing up most of the eye ware. A pinch on your thigh reminds you that he expects an answer, shaking your body out slightly before answering.

“The stoplight system’s good. Green, I’m good, yellow, slow down or take a break, red, stop everything. What kind of dom are you, Harry?” You push, wanting to know what you’re getting yourself into. You had done a lot of kinky stuff in the past, and there were some things you weren’t a fan of.

“Mm, I’m relatively easy going. Not going to give you any rules, unless we’re playing and have a scene set up. But,” he pauses to exhale harshly, “I’m quite mean, love. I like to take control, pick you apart bit by bit until you’re just trembling under me, can’t say anything but my name. How does that sound, puppy? Tell me now how you like it.”

His voice sends shivers throughout your body and you moan quietly, biting your lip to try and stifle it. Harry’s words circle around your brain, your stomach tightening with need. All the air seems to escape you, but you know he wants an answer.

“G-good. I like it rough, dirty, just wanna please you,” you stutter out, chest rising and falling rapidly. You absent-mindedly rub your fingers against your neck, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe while thinking about what he’s saying.

“Good fuckin’ girl,” he moans, removing his hand from your thigh to place it behind your neck, squeezing it in his grasp. He knows what you want, even if he’s driving, he’s able to pick up on any little signals your body makes. Your back arches as you let out a breathy moan, eyes slipping closed.

“Tell me, princess,” he starts, squeezing the side of your throat to make you open your eyes and pay attention to him. “What do you want to happen when we get back to my house? Don’t want to go too far too soon.”

“Fuck, Harry, I just really want to suck you off, please, please, please,” you beg, a tear actually falling from your eye as you look at him. His pupils dilate at your words, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows harshly, mouth suddenly dry,

“Y/N,” he growls, reaching a hand to squeeze his growing bulge in his pants. His tanned hands and dark rings contrast the bright color, adding to your ever growing list of things that Harry does that turns you on.

The car pulls up to a gate and you sit there for a few seconds before Harry is buzzed in, probably driving way too fast back to his house. Parking in his driveway, he finally releases his hand from your neck and exits the car, making his way around to open your door. Holding your hand as you exit, he places his hand on your low back to guide you into the gorgeous home, the size of it taking your breath away. Harry gives you no time to admire it, shutting the door behind him with a slam before bringing his hand up your chest to rest on your throat, slamming you into the wall. He slips a leg in between yours and takes your hip in his free hand, guiding you to start grinding on his thigh. Your face flushes with heat as he tightens his grip.

“Know you wanna suck me off, but will you cum for me first? Don’t want this pretty cunt to go to waste.”

Your head rolls back and hits the wall, hips stuttering at his words, eliciting a chuckle from Harry as he leans in, breath hitting your lips before he envelopes them, encouraging you to start grinding faster. His tongue runs along your bottom lip, prying them open to lick into your mouth, your moans being instantly swallowed by him. Pulling away slowly, he maintains eye contact with you as he removes his hand from your throat to slip two fingers into your mouth. Feeling your wet mouth on him, sucking his fingers with such need, Harry groans lowly, removing his fingers to kiss you even harder, hands making quick work of removing your shorts.

“Such a naughty girl, can’t even wait to get to the bedroom, just has to have me feel you right here, hmm?” Harry scolds, removing his lips from yours to suck a mark into your neck, fingers moving to feel your wetness through the cloth underwear. Your hands wrap around his curls as you shakily inhale, resting your forehead on his to moan out lowly.

“Fuck, Harry,” you sigh, feeling him rub along your folds through the fabric, pushing it ever-so-slightly inside of you. His mouth pulls away from you with a pop, only to bite down on the red skin harshly, working his way up to your mouth once more. He bumps his nose against yours and opens his mouth to move his tongue past your lips. Your head is spinning, breath ragged as you suck his tongue with yours, feeling the vibrations in your mouth when he moans lowly, pulling a whimper from you.

Suddenly, he drops to his knees, pulling the thong down with him. You swallow at the change in pace and allow him to help you step out of them.

“Wanna take your boots off, sweet girl?” He checks, kissing your inner thigh softly as you lean fully against the wall. You think for a second, these were pretty comfortable, pretty solid grip, why not stay in them?

“‘S okay. Perfect height for you,” you breathe, bucking your hips up. He doesn’t even wait a second to smack your pussy, grabbing your thighs to spread you even wider.

“Filthy, you are,” he growls, licking a long stripe from your hole to your clit, a gasp immediately falling from your lips. He looks up at you and grins, licking long stripes through your folds, almost like he’s trying to remember how you feel. He takes his time catching your wetness slowly, despite the little gasps and moans coming from you. Flicking his tongue over your clit for a second, he pulls back to blow cool air on it, the motion causing your legs to falter for a second.

“Gotta stay still, okay? Can’t have you falling over,” he spits directly on your core as he says this, looking up at you with his jaw hanging slightly open, loving the way your hands go to your hair to find something to grab on. He smirks to himself, licking into you while his hands find your hips, pinching the delicate skin between his fingertips. He collects as much of you and his spit on his tongue as he can, swallowing around your clit after he sucks it into his mouth. The suction makes your hips fight to buck up into him, but you use all of your strength to stay still, causing your thighs to start quivering in his palms. Harry grins and scrapes his teeth along your clit, your loud moan going directly to his quickly hardening cock.

“Taste so fucking good, angel,” he groans, nose rubbing against your clit as he fucks his tongue into you, the soft muscle dragging along your walls and guiding your wetness into his mouth. The sounds coming from him are obscene, loud slurping, sucking, and spitting onto your trembling pussy.

“Fuck, Harry, I’m not going to last,” you cry out, feeling yourself start to clench around him. He grins around you, pulling away to thumb at your clit and look directly into your eyes.

“Mm, that’s not how good girls ask,” is all Harry gives you, slipping a finger inside and immediately curling it towards himself, finding your g-spot with ease. His lips wrap around your clit, sucking harshly while his tongue draws designs on the sensitive button.

“Please, Sir, can I come?”

This has Harry moaning against you, pinching your clit between his teeth as he slides another finger in, fucking into you faster. Your eyes roll back, one hand splayed against the wall, another in his hair to give you some sort of balance. He relentless massages and thrusts into your g-spot with his fingers, feeling you clench around them so tightly that his head starts to spin. “That’s it, puppy, ask me again,” he demands, the title you gave him sending shivers throughout his body. He sucks harder on your clit, somehow speeding up his fingers inside you. A moan vibrates against your center when you pull on his curls, your hips bucking up against his waiting hand.

“Sir, please please please can I come? I’ve been so good, haven’t moved,” you beg, gasping loudly when your legs start to shake noticeably. Harry pulls away, looking up at you and grunting out,

“You have been such a good girl, haven’t you? Go. Cum, now, right fucking now on my tongue.” A loud slapping noise is heard when Harry smacks your ass, the pain sending you over the edge. Your head hits the wall with a thud, but your moan drowns everything out, the guttural sound coming from your soul. Tilting your head back, you cum into his mouth, one leg slipping out from under you and Harry places it on his shoulder without a second thought, holding you up as you ride out your orgasm. The tightness in your stomach releases and your pussy trembles around his fingers, only encouraging him to continue the constant pressure on your g-spot.The strength of it knocks the wind out of you and sends electricity throughout your finger tips, your hips slowing down their rocking motion as Harry eases his fingers out of you. He continues to lick you clean before placing your shaky legs back on the ground together, trailing his hands up your body as he stands up.

“Thank you,” you breathe into his chest, holding on to his hips for balance. His chuckle vibrates against your cheek, and you feel him move your hair out of the way to kiss your shoulder.

“Of course, lovely. How you feeling?” He is all smiles, his voice gentle and caring as he breathes in your smell, leaving small kisses along your neck.

“G-good,” you stutter out, nudging his head to make eye contact with you. He pulls away after a second, one arm going around your waist when he notices how you’re practically falling over with how shaky your legs are. Smirking, he places his other hand on your cheek, pulling you in for a kiss. Tasting yourself on his tongue was too much for you, whining into his mouth before pulling away.

“Can I suck you off now?” You ask shyly, using your best puppy dog eyes. And, wow, do they work. Harry groans, biting your bottom lip harshly before pulling away, not wasting a second before pushing down on your shoulders. You topple to the ground easily, landing surprisingly softly (thanks to Harry’s expert hands), on the hardwood floor. After helping him remove your shirt, you place your hands behind your back immediately and tuck your chin down, grinning to yourself when you hear the moan Harry let’s out at your position.

“Spoiled little girl. Gets everything and more that she asks for, hmm, yes?” Harry demands, tugging your chin up by his hands. His eyes are pointed, staring directly into yours, pupils blown out and hair a mess behind him. You can see the pieces stuck to his forehead from sweat, but his chin glistens with something that has to be you.

“Yes, sir, so good to me. Wanna make you feel good, please,” you beg, leaning closer into him, the difference in clothing setting you into a daze, seeing him fully dressed while you’re waiting on your knees in front of him, naked, panting, and pleading to have his cock down your throat.

“Greedy,” he sighs, taking his hand away from your face to slide off his shirt, tossing it to the growing pile of clothes on the floor. He keeps his eyes trained on yours, daring you to avert them as he unzips his pants, stepping out of them. He looks away for a second to pull of his boots, and you take your time admiring his thighs, because, fuck. They were thick, muscled, tanned, and the little tattoos on them were asking to be bitten, you made a mental note to do that later.

“Got a bit of a staring problem, love.”

Harry’s voice snaps you out of your daydream, eyes flickering back up to him, mouth dropping open when he’s bare in front of you, slowly stroking himself. You involuntarily make a little noise in the back of your throat, sticking your tongue out for good measure. Seeing Harry’s hips thrust up into his hand and his neck vein pop was confirmation enough for you, but you waited for him to put himself in your mouth, absolute torture you must say.

Harry finally takes mercy on you, moaning out, “God, you’re such a little cockslut, just want something in that fucking mouth of yours. Bet I could leave my fingers in there all day and you wouldn’t complain once,” when he eases himself into your open mouth.

You flatten your tongue on the underside of him, not breaking eye contact as you slide off his cock to lick at his tip with feather light touches, drawing figure eights along the top. Suckling lightly on just the head, you feel a spurt of precum land on your tongue, licking it up happily. Tearing your eyes away from his, you open up your throat to begin taking him deeper, feeling his hand immediately come to your hair as you do this.

“Yes,” Harry draws out, allowing you to take control for a moment. You wanted to suck him off, so who is he to tell you how to do it? The view is what is killing him the most, though. Your tits bouncing as you slurp him down, spit falling onto your thighs, your little bit of stomach pudge falling over as you completely lose yourself in making him feel good. That is what gets him to buck into your mouth, closing his eyes and biting his bottom lip, breathing heavily as he begins to thrust into you. You pull away after a moment, jerking him off steadily as you swallow and look up at him.

“You can fuck my throat. Don’t have much of a gag reflex, anyways. Wanna see how you like it, Sir,” you pant, not giving him any time to think before you take him back into your mouth, placing your hand on the wrist that’s in your hair, giving him another okay.

“God, Y/N, you’re heavenly,” Harry breathes, testing out the waters by doing some shallow thrusts, only then beginning to actually throat-fuck you. He places his other hand around your neck, essentially pulling you into his throat and choking you from both ways. Your eyes roll into the back of your throat and you place your nose against his belly, breathing in deeply. Harry pulls himself out of you, rubbing his cock against your cheeks.

“Feel so good,” he draws out, easing himself back into your waiting mouth, rubbing the head on the ridges on the roof of your mouth. He moans through closed lips and tilts his head back, giving you the chance to admire his strong jawline from this angle, body sculpted by Michaelangelo himself. He had no room to call you all these beautiful names while he looked this fucking good getting his cock sucked.

You start speeding up your bobs, keeping him deep in your throat and only picking up a little, the change in pressure earning you a tug on your roots when Harry pulls you to look up at him.

“Mm, you want me to cum, don’t you, dirty girl,” he grunts, a lazy grin on his now flushed face. His thumbs make their way to press on either side of your cheek, moaning lowly when he feels himself through the tissue.

You hum around him, using your tongue along the vein you can feel, looking up at Harry with such need in your eyes. You pull off for a quick second, gasping loudly while saying,

“Want you to come in my mouth so bad, want to taste you and make you feel as good as you made me,” Taking him back in your mouth and sucking him off with a vice-like grip.

“Fuck,” Harry half-laughs, half-moans. “You’re incredible. Gonna make me come so fast, you’re taking me so fucking deep.”

Not even a minute later, you feel him begin to pulse in your mouth, pulling back to just suck on the head, using your tongue to dip into the hole, and Harry cums with a loud shout, burying his cock down your throat as he shoots ribbon after ribbon of come into you. You keep your eyes at his face, remembering how his mouth looks wide open, his eyes pinched closed, hair making a perfect halo around him. His throat makes you want to cry, the veins popping out and slightly red. He stays in your mouth for a while, allowing you to suck him dry and soften slightly, before pulling out of you with a pop.

“Thank you,” you croak out, swallowing what’s left in your mouth and leaning into his touch, quite spent if you were being honest.

Harry had to look away for a second, moving his hand to hold your head while he caught his breath. You were right about being golden, your skin shone, and you just radiated everything good in this world, right after he had his cock balls deep down your throat nonetheless.

“You’re too much, beauty. Thank you, did such a good job,” he gushes, kneeling down. He takes your chin inbetween his fingers and kisses you softly, just barely moving his lips. He leans his forehead against yours and wipes your lip with his thumb, allowing you to suck the bit of cum still on your face off with a blush tinting your cheeks.

“Reminds me of this morning, a bit,” he giggles, laughing louder as you hit him in the chest, grumbling ‘dumb’. He pushes your hair out of the way and holds your face in his two hands, effectively shutting you up as you breathe in deeply, feeling strangely comfortable being this vulnerable with him this fast.

“Do you wanna take a bath with me right now? Know you were on shaky legs and this hard floor for a while,” he pouts, kissing your forehead softly. You nod slowly and he smiles, nodding against you before pulling away to unzip your shoes, placing them next to the wall before he’s picking you up with way too much ease, pulling a shriek from you.

“‘Sorry, love, your poor legs okay?” he asks, holding you to his chest with one arm, using the other to hold your thigh. He receives another nod to the shoulder and he nuzzles you, trying to see what’s happening.

“I’m okay, just tired,” you sigh, and he murmurs an ‘okay’ kissing your temple before allowing you to sink back onto him, making a mental note to ask you about it once you’ve got your breath back.

“Why don’t you go turn on that shower and wash yourself real quick with some warm water and I’ll have the bath ready when I join you, that okay?” Harry whispers, sliding you down slowly. He pushes you toward the large glass door and you smile back at him, your heart bursting with appreciation.

This one is going to change you.

A/N: and that’s a wrap !! lemme know if you guys prefer this kind of phrasing (‘you said’), or if you like ‘she said’, or ‘i said’ better. this is my first time working with a full story using y/n and second/third person kind of view, so pls bear with me. also !! i know some people aren’t really cool with weed. im a ~stoner~ (such a weird thing to type out lmao) so i smoke a lot, but if y’all aren’t comfortabke with me mentioning it p much every other chapter, let me know !! (it can even be anonymously sent in) hope you liked it, and let me know if you have any other requests for future chapters or just one shots💗💗

- lana💔