#denial of feelings

[gdinthehouseee]

Neon Secrets - Part 1: KWON JI-YONG x READER

summary: ji-yong catches you getting in your own head so he decides to shake things up and bring you along for a much needed late-night drive

word count: 5180

tags: fluff, denial, idiots in love - everyone can see it but them type stuff

ao3 link -- part 2

All was silent in the rooftop practice room, save for the soft scratching of a charcoal pencil against paper. You sat curled up on the couch near the window, your notebook balanced on your knee, fingers gripping the pencil tightly. But the page in front of you remained mostly blank—just a few scratched-out lines and half-finished rhymes that didn’t feel right.

Sleep couldn’t seem to get a hold of you tonight—your mind raced with the same thoughts, replaying them over and over until they became a blur of frustration. You stared at the clock, wishing for a few hours of peace, but the ticking echoed in your ears, only adding to your agitation. 

The quiet hum of the building surrounded you, but inside your mind, chaos churned. The notebook’s blank pages mocking your every attempt to find the right words. Your thoughts were too scattered—too many ideas, too many emotions—but none of them seemed to come together. The pressure to create something meaningful weighed heavily on you, and the longer you sat there, the more frustrated you became. Naturally. You hated this feeling of being stuck, of not being able to tap into the creative flow that usually came so naturally. You had written countless lyrics before, but tonight, nothing felt right. Every word you jotted down felt forced, out of place, as if the inspiration you once had was slipping away. The longer you tried, the more you doubted yourself. What if you were losing your touch? What if your career was over before it truly had time to blossom?

"You look miserable."

You jumped slightly at the voice, snapping your head toward the doorway. Ji-yong leaned against the frame, his arms crossed and his dark eyes almost staring into your soul.

Your heart pounded, and not just because he’d startled you. "Keep your voice down," you hissed and motioned for him to come in, glancing toward the hallway. "People are sleeping."

He scoffed but lowered his voice as he stepped inside. "Relax, it’s just us up here. Unless you think someone’s hiding in the storage closet, waiting to snitch on you."

As much as you rolled your eyes, there was nothing you could do to hide the subtle smile forming on your lips. Hoping he didn’t see, you elected to return your gaze to the notebook. "What do you want?"

Ji-yong flopped onto the couch behind you. "To rescue you from whatever creative hell you’re stuck in." He glanced at the page over your shoulder, tilting his head. "Writer’s block?"

A long sigh escaped your throat. "More like ‘everything I write sounds terrible.’ I should just go to bed and try again tomorrow, but I can’t even do that for whatever reason, so I’m just kinda… stuck here, I guess.”

He was quiet for a second before drumming his fingers against the couch. "Or…"

"Or?"

"We sneak out."

You stiffened for a second, before turning around to face him. Only to realise he had leaned closer towards you. 

"You’re insane. You know everyone is asleep in the next room, right? And most of the staff? One wrong move and—"

Ji-yong held up his hands in mock surrender. "I get it, I get it. But that’s what makes it fun." A playful smile tugged on his lips. "Come on. You’re stuck, I’m bored, and the walls in this place are suffocating right now. Let’s get some air."

You hesitated, chewing the inside of your cheek. This was stupid. Reckless. If anyone saw you, rumours would spread like wildfire. But at the same time… the idea of slipping away, of leaving all the pressure behind, if only for a little while—

"Fine. But if we get caught, I’m blaming you." You quickly stood up, moving towards the door. You didn’t even bother closing the notebook or tucking the chair back under the desk. A dangerous move.

Ji-yong grinned even wider than before, already on his feet. "Deal."

He reached the door before you could, grabbed the handle and opened it for you to walk through, his typical mischievous grin never leaving his face. “Ladies first.” 

“Such a gentleman.” You quipped and walked through, not after checking the hallway first of course.

And just like that, the two of you were sneaking through the hallways, hearts racing with every quiet step.

The tension in the air was palpable as the two of you stood in the hallway, the soft sounds of your footsteps echoing against the polished floor. Ji-yong’s eyes were gleaming with excitement. 

"You sure you're up for this?" He whispered, glancing around as if expecting someone to appear out of nowhere.

You hesitated, your gaze flicking nervously to the security cameras overhead. The building was still buzzing with activity, but most of the staff would be asleep by now. Still, the thought of getting caught was enough to make your heart race. "This is risky," you muttered, trying to stay calm. "If we get caught, we're in trouble."

He chuckled softly, his fingers brushing against hers as he took a step closer. "That's what makes it fun," he said with a wink. You’d be lying if you didn’t find it attractive. Unfortunately for you, he was incredibly charming.

"Come on, I know the way."

The two of you moved quickly but quietly, sticking close to the walls to avoid being seen. The dim lighting in the hallways made it harder to spot you both, and every sound seemed amplified as you tiptoed past the security desk. The guard was hunched over, lost in the glow of his phone screen, completely unaware of the two figures sneaking past. Your pulse quickened as you tried to cover up your breathing as much as you could, but Ji-yong kept a steady pace, signalling you to stay low as you made your way toward the exit.

As you neared the door, Ji-yong reached for the handle, his hand steady despite the adrenaline coursing through them. He glanced at you one last time, a playful smile tugging at his lips once more. "Ready?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

You nodded, biting back a grin. "Just don’t get us caught."

“You know I won’t.”

With one final look around, he pushed the door open, and you slipped into the cool night air, your hearts still racing but filled with the thrill of your daring escape. The moment you had stepped through the exit and carefully closed the door behind you, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you into a sprint toward the car parked just down the street. The night air was crisp against the mostly bare skin of your arms and legs, the sound of your hurried footsteps filled the silence. Neither of you spoke—just the occasional glance over your shoulders to truly make sure no one had followed, accidentally making eye contact here and there.

Ji-yong reached the car first, fumbling with his keys as he yanked the door open. “Hurry,” he hissed, motioning for you to get in. You certainly didn’t need to be told twice. You practically dove into the passenger seat, slamming the door behind you just as he did the same on his side. For a moment, you both sat there, frozen, chests rising and falling with quick, uneven breaths. The street outside was quiet, undisturbed. You made it.

And then, as if on cue, you turned to each other, eyes wide with the weight of what you had just pulled off.

Silence.

Then—laughter.

It started as a breathless chuckle from Ji-yong, but the absurdity of the situation caught up with both of you, and soon enough, you were doubled over, shoulders shaking with uncontrollable laughter. You pressed an ice-cold hand to your burning face, gasping for air between giggles. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

He leaned back against the headrest, grinning as he ran a hand through his hair. “I know, right? That was way too close.” He turned to look at you again, amusement dancing in his eyes. “You looked so scared back there.”

“Excuse me?” You began, “I was being cautious. Someone has to be the responsible one here.”

“And yet, here you are, sneaking out in the middle of the night with me.”

You rolled your eyes but, once again, couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at your lips and the blood rushing to your cheeks. The adrenaline still buzzed in your veins, mixing with the warmth of the moment. Ji-yong shifted in his seat, tilting his head slightly as he studied you for a moment. His laughter had faded, but his expression softened, something unreadable flickering across his face before briefly looking away.

The laughter had faded, but the buzz of excitement still lingered in the air. He tapped his fingers absent-mindedly against the steering wheel. “So,” he said, glancing over at you. “Where to? Or was the plan just to run away with nowhere to go?”

You hummed, thinking for a moment, leaning back in your seat as you gazed out the window. “Honestly? I didn’t think we’d make it this far.”

That made him chuckle. “Wow. Such faith in us.”

“I’m just saying, the odds weren’t exactly in our favour. But I guess you do have a way of getting people to do reckless things.”

“People?”

“Me. Specifically me.” You laughed.

His grin never left his face as he started the car, the soft rumble filling the quiet space. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You sat in comfortable silence for a while, the city lights flickering outside the windows, casting moving shadows across your faces. The world beyond the car felt distant, like a dream you were slipping through unnoticed. It was rare—to have a moment like this, away from expectations, away from the prying eyes of fans, staff, and friends alike.

Ji-yong snuck a glance at you when you weren’t looking. You were tracing patterns on your arm, brows slightly furrowed in thought. He wondered what was on your mind. He wondered if you had any idea how often he caught himself watching you like this—memorizing the way your eyes softened when you were deep in thought, the way you pressed your lips together when you were frustrated.

And if you knew, what would you think about the way Seunghyun, Taeyang, and Daesung teased him for it?

Ji-yong could still hear them now—Taeyang shaking his head with an amused smirk, Daesung’s knowing glances, and Seunghyun’s relentless, dramatic sighs. Just confess already, you’re embarrassing yourself. They never let him live it down, always pointing out the way his attention lingered a little too long, the way his voice softened when he spoke to you, the way he always found an excuse to be around you. And as much as he brushed them off, he knew they weren’t wrong. The thought made his ears burn.

It had started one evening in the studio. Ji-yong had been half-listening to a new beat, scrolling through his phone when Seunghyun leaned over his shoulder with a loud, exaggerated sigh.

“Hyung,” Ji-yong muttered without looking up, already knowing what was coming.

“What is this?” Seunghyun said dramatically, tapping the screen of Ji-yong’s phone. “You’re literally smiling at your messages right now. Are you in high school?”

Ji-yong scoffed and pulled his phone away, locking it. “Mind your business.”

Daesung, sprawled out on the couch, grinned. “It’s her, isn’t it?”

Taeyang let out a knowing chuckle from his spot near the desk, looking up from his own phone. “It’s always her.”

Seunghyun wasn’t letting this go. He leaned in closer, studying Ji-yong’s face. “Look at him. He’s already getting defensive. Next, he’s gonna say she’s just a friend—”

“But she is just a friend,” Ji-yong cut in quickly. Too quickly.

The room went silent for about half a second before all three of them burst out laughing.

“Ohhh, this is bad,” Taeyang teased, shaking his head. “I’ve never seen Ji-yong lie so poorly in my life.”

Daesung grinned, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Bro, you don’t even talk about your crushes, but you think we haven’t noticed how different you act around her?”

“Different how?” Ji-yong challenged, crossing his arms.

“You get all… soft.”

Ji-yong rolled his eyes. “I do not get soft.”

“You do,” Taeyang confirmed. “Like earlier today, when she came by to drop off something for the manager? You barely spoke, but the second she left, you smiled to yourself like some lovesick teenager.”

“I—” Ji-yong stopped, trying to come up with a defence, but all three of them were already grinning at him. Busted.

Seunghyun clapped him on the back with a knowing look. “You’re screwed, bro.”

Ji-yong swallowed, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. No. That was the last thing he needed. If you ever heard them talk like that, would you laugh? Would you tease him too? Or worse—would you start noticing the way he looked at you? The way he felt? And, as a result, would you distance yourself from him?

He had never planned for this—to care this much.

At first, it had been simple: late-night studio sessions, teasing exchanges, fleeting moments that he told himself meant nothing. But then he started noticing the way you made the air feel lighter, the way being around you felt like a break from the noise of everything else. And now, sitting here with you, watching the city pass by in the glow of streetlights, he realized he had been in trouble for a while.

Eventually, he spoke, his voice quieter than before. “So… what were you writing earlier?”

“A whole lot of nothing. Or… trying to write something, but nothing came out right.”

He glanced at her. “Typical writer’s block.”

“Feels more like an identity crisis,” you muttered, half-joking. “I don’t know. I just kept overthinking everything. Like… what if I don’t have anything meaningful to say anymore?”

He frowned at that, his grip tightening slightly on the wheel. “That’s not true. You always have something to say.”

You let out a small laugh, though there wasn’t much humour in it. “You sound so sure.”

“Because I am,” he said, glancing at you again before turning back to the road. “You’re one of the most passionate people I know. Even when you don’t say anything, you’re thinking—feeling. That’s what makes you good.” His voice was steady, sure. “You just don’t see yourself the way I do.”

Your breath hitched slightly at his words.

He must have realized what he said, because his fingers drummed nervously against the wheel, and he cleared his throat. “I mean—uh, the way people who know you do.”

For a moment, you just stared at him, watching as he kept his eyes firmly on the road, as if avoiding your gaze would erase what had just slipped out. A warmth bloomed in your chest.

“Ji-yong.”

He shook his head quickly, a sheepish smile playing on his lips. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you just figured something out.”

You tilted her head slightly, as if considering. “Maybe I did.”

He groaned, quickly running a hand through his hair. “This is why I don’t say things.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, but there was no denying the way your heart was now racing for an entirely different reason. Trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach, you decided to change the subject when you realised he hadn’t explained why he was awake when he found you.

“Y’know, you never said why you were up so late.”

Ji-yong blinked, as if caught off guard. “Ah… I was hoping you wouldn’t ask.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Why? Is your reason dumber than mine?”

“No, just…” He hesitated before sighing. “Not that interesting.”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“I just couldn’t sleep.”

“Why?”

He hesitated again, longer this time, before answering. “Because my brain is a pain in the ass.”

That made you pause. “What do you mean?”

He let out a short, quiet laugh, but there was no humour in it. “I think too much. About everything. I’ll be exhausted, lying in bed, and suddenly my brain decides it’s time to overanalyse every stupid thing I’ve ever said, every choice I’ve ever made, every possible way I could screw something up.” He exhaled sharply. “It’s like I can never just… be.”

“You mean like anxiety?”

He shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know. It’s not like I panic, I just—” He sighed, tapping his fingers against the wheel. “I second-guess myself a lot. Get stuck in my own head. It’s frustrating because I know it’s dumb, but I can’t turn it off.”

Something about the way he said it—the exhaustion behind his words—made your chest tighten.

“Why didn’t you just say this earlier?” you asked softly. The car came to a stop as you reached a red light.

He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Because I didn’t want to make it about me. You already seemed frustrated.”

“That’s stupid,” you said without thinking.

Ji-yong finally turned to you, caught between amusement and exasperation. “Excuse me?”

“You do it all the time,” you said, shaking your head. “You act like you have to be the one keeping everyone else together, but who’s doing that for you?”

His lips parted slightly, as if he hadn’t expected the question. His fingers drummed idly on the wheel, and for a moment, you thought he wouldn’t answer. But then, in a voice quieter than before, he said:

“You.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

Ji-yong let out a small, almost self-deprecating laugh. “You don’t even realize it, do you?”

You swallowed, suddenly hyper aware of the way the air in the car felt different—thicker, heavier. “Realize what?”

He glanced at you again, something unreadable in his gaze. He looked like he wanted to say something else, something more, but instead, he just shook his head with a small smile. The traffic light finally turned green and he continued driving.

“Nothing,” he muttered. “Forget I said anything.”

But you wouldn’t forget. Not now. Not when the weight of his words settled deep into your chest, shifting something inside you that you weren’t sure you were ready to face yet. And judging by the way Ji-yong gripped the wheel like his life depended on it, staring straight ahead, neither was he.

At some point, the heavy weight of the conversation had lifted, giving way to laughter and much lighter topics. The city stretched out around you, a blur of neon signs and empty streets as Ji-yong drove aimlessly, neither of you wanting to break the spell of the night just yet.

The two of you talked about ridiculous things—the worst stage outfits you’d ever worn, the most embarrassing moments caught on camera, the weirdest fan gifts he had ever received. He nearly swerved when he burst out laughing at your dramatic re-enactment of a failed dance move during rehearsal, and you doubled over when he confessed to once getting trapped in a bathroom before a concert and having to be rescued by the rest of the guys and a few staff members.

The car was filled with easy conversation, the kind that only came when time didn’t seem to matter. But time did matter. And neither of you realized just how much until Ji-yong absently checked the dashboard clock.

“Shit.”

“What?” You turned to him, still grinning from your last joke.

He gestured toward the clock. 4:32 AM.

Your stomach dropped. “No way.”

He groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. “We are so screwed.”

It took a second for the panic to fully settle in, but when it did, it was instant. You sat up straight, suddenly wide awake. “We have to get back now.”

He was already turning the car around, the easy-going vibe of the night replaced with frantic energy. “We better pray no one’s up yet.”

Your heart pounded as you mentally mapped out the best way to sneak back in, every possibility of getting caught flashing through your head. Staff members were early risers, and some of your groupmates tended to wake up for morning workouts. If even one person saw you—

“We can’t go through the front,” you said quickly. “There’s a security camera right at the entrance.”

Ji-yong nodded. “Back door. Less cameras, but we have to be fast.”

You could already imagine the absolute chaos if either of your groups or, worse, the company found out about this. You and Ji-yong locked eyes, truly realizing at the same time just how risky this had been.

Then, for some reason—maybe from sheer exhaustion, maybe from the ridiculousness of the situation—you both started laughing. Quiet at first, then full-on, uncontrollable laughter just like at the very beginning of this little side quest.

“This is so bad,” he shook his head.

You wiped the happy tears that were forming in your eyes. “If we survive this, we’re never doing this again.”

That was a lie. You both knew it.

And as the car sped through the empty streets, the first hints of morning light creeping onto the horizon, you knew this night—this feeling—was one neither of you would forget. By the time you had pulled into the parking lot, the sky had started to shift from deep navy to the softest hints of morning blue. Every second that passed made the risk of getting caught even worse.

You both moved quickly, slipping out of the car and sticking to the shadows as you made your way to the back entrance of the building. He pulled open the door as quietly as possible, wincing at the soft creak of the hinges.

“Go, go, go,” you whispered, pushing him inside.

The hallway was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that made every tiny sound feel deafening. You pressed your back against the wall, Ji-yong right next to you as you both listened for any sign of movement.

Nothing.

You exchanged a glance, and without a word, started moving.

The first challenge was the stairwell—safer than the elevators, but the risk of running into someone was still high. He went first, taking the steps two at a time, while you followed as quickly and quietly as possible. Every creak of the stairs made your pulse spike.

Halfway up, you heard a noise—a distant door closing somewhere above you. You both froze.

Ji-yong grabbed your wrist and pulled you down into a crouch against the railing, barely breathing. You squeezed your eyes shut, silently praying whoever it was wasn’t coming down the stairs. The footsteps paused, then faded away in the opposite direction.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

Ji-yong turned to you, eyes wide. “That was too close,” he mouthed.

You nodded frantically, your heart still hammering.

The two of you moved again, finally reaching your floor. Ji-yong peeked down the hallway before gesturing for you to follow. Your dorms were now just a few doors away, and you could practically feel freedom within reach.

You made it to the door first, pressing a hand against it for stability as you exhaled. Ji-yong stopped next to you, running a hand through his hair, a tired but exhilarated grin tugging at his lips.

“We actually made it,” you whispered.

He smirked. “You doubted me?”

You rolled your eyes, but before you could respond, Ji-yong opened the door. As you stepped inside, you immediately realized you weren’t alone. The familiar voices of Taeyang and Daesung were already drifting through the room, and the instant you both walked in, the entire space fell silent.

The kitchen lights flickered overhead as you and Ji-yong froze. There, sitting casually in the lounge area, were the familiar faces of your group and his—Seunghyun leaning against the counter, a couple girls from your own group scattered around the couches, and Daesung and Taeyang, clearly wide awake.

You couldn’t even hide. You hadn’t even stepped inside before they all turned toward you.

“Well, well, well…” Taeyang’s voice rang through the silence, a grin tugging at his lips. “Look who decided to join us at five in the morning.”

Ji-yong cleared his throat, taking a step back, trying to play it cool, but his eyes flicked toward you, silently pleading for a way out. “We… just went for a walk.”

Seunghyun raised an eyebrow from where he stood, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “A walk?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but you couldn’t find any words. The guilt, the tension, the fact that everyone was wide awake and clearly waiting for you two to walk in made it impossible to lie.

“You two are really bad at hiding,” Daesung chuckled from his seat on the couch. “Did you think no one would notice?”

Ji-yong rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, giving you a small, apologetic smile. “We didn’t exactly plan on getting caught.”

“Oh, but you were planning on sneaking in here, right?” One of the girls from your group smirked from the kitchen counter. “Because it’s not like we’re all waiting in here for you to walk in.”

Taeyang folded his arms, shaking his head with a chuckle. “You really thought you could just walk in and slip by us, huh?”

You let out a long sigh, resigning yourself to the fact that there was no escape now. “I guess we’re busted.”

Ji-yong leaned against the doorframe, shrugging with a small smile. “Guess so.”

Seunghyun leaned forward, narrowing his eyes as he studied you both. “So, what exactly were you two talking about?”

You froze, unsure of how to answer. Ji-yong shifted next to you, glancing down at his shoes nervously.

“Oh, you know,” he said with an awkward chuckle, “just random stuff.”

Seunghyun snorted, clearly not buying it. “Random stuff, huh?” He shot you a look that you could read too easily. “I’m sure it was really random.”

“I bet it was super interesting,” Taeyang added with a raised eyebrow. “Just you two, talking the whole night away. So what was the real topic of conversation?”

You felt your cheeks heat up as you avoided their gazes. “Nothing important,” you muttered, hoping to avoid the topic.

Seunghyun grinned from his spot, clearly enjoying every second. “Oh, we know it wasn’t nothing important.” He exchanged a knowing glance with Daesung, and the teasing only grew stronger. “In fact, I’d say it was pretty obvious.”

Taeyang tilted his head, glancing at Ji-yong with a knowing smirk. “Yeah, because you two are definitely good at hiding it.”

“Hiding what?” You shot back, trying to sound nonchalant, but your voice faltered slightly.

Ji-yong quickly cleared his throat, standing up straighter. “We’re just really good friends,” he insisted, his voice a little sharper than before, as if to convince not just them but himself too. He gave a small, forced smile. “Nothing more than that.”

Seunghyun raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “Mm-hmm. Just friends? Sure.”

“Not this again,” Daesung laughed mostly to himself. Again? What did he mean by again?

“You guys are ridiculous,” you muttered under your breath, trying to downplay the awkward tension growing between you and Ji-yong.

“Well, we’re not the only ones who think it’s pretty clear,” one of the girls from your group said with a knowing grin. “But if you insist…”

Ji-yong rubbed the back of his neck again, his smile faltering. “I mean it. We’re just friends. It’s not that deep.”

Seunghyun looked at you both for a long moment, still not convinced. “Sure, Ji-yong. You’re just friends,” he said with a heavy dose of sarcasm. “But I’m telling you, it’s pretty obvious to all of us.”

“You’re really good at pretending,” Taeyang said, eyes twinkling with amusement.

You quickly changed the subject, desperate to get away from this conversation. “Well, we didn’t exactly plan on getting caught by everyone in the kitchen.”

“I mean, it’s not like you tried very hard to hide it,” Daesung said, unable to keep his chuckle to himself. “You two always look like you’re in your own little world.”

Ji-yong sighed, a bit of frustration leaking into his voice. “Can we not make this a thing?” He shot a glance at you, but you weren’t sure what he was thinking—was he upset with the teasing, or was he frustrated about something else?

Seunghyun raised his hands in mock surrender, still grinning. “Alright, alright, we’ll drop it for now. But you know we’re not buying the ‘just friends’ act.”

You quickly turned toward your room, eager to escape the conversation. “Guess we’ll work on pretending better next time.”

Ji-yong followed suit, offering a quiet laugh, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure we’ll do better,” he said, his voice lacking his usual confidence.

As you slipped into your room, heart still racing from the teasing, you exhaled slowly, trying to shake the feeling lingering in your chest. It was ridiculous, really. Ji-yong was Ji-yong. One of the most sought-after idols in the industry, effortlessly charismatic, always surrounded by people who adored him. There was no way he’d look at you like that. You were just his friend—one of the few people he could relax around without the weight of expectations. And maybe that was why it stung a little. Because no matter how much your heart stuttered when he looked at you, you were certain he didn’t see you the same way.

Ji-yong barely mumbled, just out of earshot from you, before slipping into his own room, shutting the door behind him a little too quickly. He let out a quiet breath, leaning against it for a moment, rubbing his face with both hands. Why did it bother him so much? The way the others teased, the way they all acted like something between you two was so obvious. Maybe to them, it was. But to Ji-yong, it wasn’t even a possibility. You had never once looked at him like that, not in the way he caught himself looking at you. And why would you?

He sighed, pushing off the door and running a hand through his hair before collapsing onto his bed. You deserve someone better—someone who wasn’t always stuck in his own head, someone who wouldn’t second-guess everything the way he did. Someone who wasn’t him.

And so, just like every other night where his thoughts threatened to betray him, he shut them down before they could get any further. Because if there was one thing he was sure of, it was that whatever he felt for you… it wasn’t something you’d ever return. If only he knew this is exactly what you were thinking about him, just on the other side of the wall. So close yet so far.

But that would be the least of both of your problems when you finally found out that a video of you and Ji-yong, with your hands intertwined, running to the car had gone viral. 

taglist (lmk if you'd like to be added!!):

@thanosscross

[bonbonbee]

Hello!! May I request a prompt list of denial of feelings? Thank you <3

ofc sweetheart! (ㅅ´ ˘ `)

denial of feelings

prompt list by @bonbonbee

"i'm trying so hard not to fall in love with you right now."

"you don't make it very easy to not fall head over heels."

"hah! me in love with _____? now that's funny."

"why were you looking at them? look at me."

"ya'know what? maybe i'll give us a try." "wow i'm so honored."

"why would i ever love you? you're rude, selfish, arrogant, and even worse, you snore." "okay, that last one kinda hurt."

"why are you avoiding me? are you trying to not fall in love with me or something?" "that was the objective, yes."

"woops, looks like we're under the mistletoe. i guess we should-" "i'd rather launch myself into the stratosphere."

"you're avoiding me like the plague. do you love me or not?" "what? i never avoided you-" "answer the question."

[alovye]

#LESTAPPEN AFTER 2019 Austria PODIUM # DENIAL OF FEELINGS

Max: I thought you hated me, huh Charlie?😏

Charles: Shut up Max

It's a hate boner....I swear! -------------------------------------------------

Max: Go fuck yourself😡

Charles: Fuck me yourself you coward!🤬

Max: oh sure 8 pm?🤭

Charles: um

[itsybitsybluesy]

more like perfect disaster

ONESHOT / ELUCIEN / EXPLICIT / prequel to this fic

“No, I mean—” Vassa glanced at Jurian, only for a second; they’d clearly been talking while Lucien was away. “I don’t think this… secret lovers thing is very good for you.” Jurian snorted. “Lovers would imply they were saying loving words to each other.”

this started out as chapter 3 of my @acotargiftexchange present to @huntquinlan. it was supposed to be a cute little "10 years ago!" flashback to a happy married mated elucien. and then some sort of angsty disease descended upon me and demanded that all of you have to suffer.

thank you so much for the beta reads - nicole, forever my fanfic buddy, as well as the lovely brilliant @temperedink, who told me this deserved to be its own one-shot in a series. (because I forgot that option existed.) and yes i know she wants this NOT to be a oneshot but i'm leaving it as that for now!!!!!

read it (and weep?) on AO3!

preview under the cut:

OCTOBER.

ELAIN

The first time it happened, Elain was so pissed off that she made Lucien leave the room after she came. 

It was, of course, his fault. And from where he kneeled at the foot of her bed, Elain was half-horrified, half-helplessly aroused at the glisten still visible on his lips and — oh gods — his chin, evidence of what she’d allowed him to do. After what she, herself, had done. 

And then he’d just looked at her like that, instead of reaching out and continuing what they’d started, and the look in his eyes made that feeling in her chest begin again, the one like a golden band tight around the very beating of her heart, like he could see under her skin, whisper right into her head—   

“You have to go,” Elain said, quickly, desperately pushing her skirt back down her thighs. “Please, please, leave.” 

A brief flash of something like hurt in his eyes, then nothing but the carefully polite mask he wore day in and day out, just like every other time he visited from the Human Lands. Elain wanted to slap it right off his face. Or something like that. “Of course.” He turned away and swiped roughly at his face with one sleeve, making her blush even harder. In a few quick seconds he was on his feet, across the room, one hand on the door. 

“Lucien—” Elain said before she knew why. He turned on one heel, met her eyes with only gracious guest-level distance simmering in his own. 

“Yes,” he said. Elain’s mouth opened and then closed. This was a mistake? Perhaps it wasn’t. This won’t happen again? 

Perhaps it would. 

“I’m sorry,” she finished lamely.

“I’m not,” Lucien returned. And then he turned and left the room.

[aziraphales-library]

Hi, I appreciate all the time you put into this blog and everything that you do.

I was wondering if you had any fic recommendations where Aziraphale can't say "I love you"?

Like, after years of being afraid of Heaven finding out he just has a really hard time saying it? I know it’s oddly specific, but I figured I'd ask. Thank you so much for your time. Have a lovely day. <3

Hello! You can check our #denial of feelings tag for fics along these lines. Here are some where Aziraphale struggles to express his feelings for Crowley...

the one where aziraphale can't say I love you by assbuttsinlove (G)

aziraphale wants to say I love you but he can't. but he really really wants to. so crowley helps. first kisses and fluff. and a touch of angst.

E pesa come l'anima by D20Owlbear (G)

[3 + 2 +1] Three times Aziraphale never began the words, two times he fails to get them out, and one time he finally managed it. I love you hung heavy in Aziraphale's chest like an ornament on a too-small, too-barren tree, dragging down the branches with the weight and intensity of it until it nearly falls and shatters into pieces and rips itself from his lips. But instead he said, "Or I'll never speak to you again!" And that was almost the same, and he knew Crowley heard it too. That Crowley heard I'll never speak to you again and knew it meant I don't dare lose you, I love you. But then the world didn't end and he wasn't shipped off to his platoon and he was with Crowley still, his oldest and best friend in any world there might ever be and… he still couldn't say it. He's had thousands of years to practice beating it down, to keep it to himself, to only let Crowley know of his affection in the most roundabout of ways, and only a few months to unlearn it all. But, Crowley deserved more than that. Aziraphale deserved more than that too!

But The Smoke Clears When You're Around by midnightdragons (T)

“Mhm,” Crowley mumbled, before closing his eyes, curling back up around Aziraphale, and promptly falling back to sleep, one hand hooked loosely around the angel’s middle, his face pressed into his chest. Aziraphale looked down at him, his heart seizing in his chest, and gently hugged him close. “You are silly, my sweet boy,” he whispered breathlessly, sparing a single chaste kiss to the demon’s forehead. “And I . . .” Love you, he wanted to say. Wanted so badly to say it, to reveal it to the world, if only for a single moment.

After the Armageddon that wasn't, Crowley can't rid himself of the trauma caused by a certain event, and shields himself with defensive anger and a mask of irritation. Aziraphale convinces him that it's okay to rest and recover. (Alternatively: purely sleepy intimacy, comfort, and fluff, accompanied by the lingering scent of smoke in a bookshop.)

Definitions of Love by organizechaos (T)

Aziraphale thinks that all the abuse and trauma he endured in heaven is ‘love’. After being freed after the apocalypse, the angel is beyond happy. He wants nothing more than to spend eternity with Crowley but the demon is ready to put a name to their feelings. They both know that they care for each other deeply and when Crowley finally has the courage to put it in words (‘I love you’), it sends Aziraphale spiraling into believing Crowley will start treating him like heaven did. "We- we don't have to pretend anymore.” Crowley stuttered out, golden eyes looking frantically about the angel. His sunglasses were clutched tightly in the palm of his hand, “The apocalypse is over, it has been for years. Can't we- can't we say it now?" his voice wavered only slightly. "I don't love you, Crowley." Aziraphale emphasized each word to better help the demon understand. He had never truly loved something in all his years of existence, he didn’t think he was capable. To love another being — especially Crowley... "I could never love you."

An Angel and a Demon Dined at the Ritz (And Everything Went Downhill from There) by AshCommaMan (T)

Always offering. Always asking a question he must know will only ever get a “no” in response. And yet he asks anyway. “Anywhere you want to go.” You know I would do anything for you. “You go too fast for me, Crowley.” You deserve better than what I can give you. All that, and still, nothing has changed. In which Aziraphale must stop running from his feelings, or risk losing his best friend forever.

- Mod D

[autumnweeen]

Updated at last!

I’ve been working on fleshing out the rest of the story since February and chapter 2 is finally here.

If you’re seeing this for the first time know that:

-it’s not a HEA

- there’s MCD

- it’s about Hanahaki disease, unrequited love and denial of feelings

- there will be blood

- kind of a canon semi-rewrite but not quite

- 24 chapters and around 90k to 100k long

[melancholyclover]

innocence died screaming

-

It was like hitting a piano key and hearing nothing when he fired the gun.  The bullet must have hit her, but he doesn't even get to see it  - he lurches awake on a poker table, half-dead and alone, sick from what he had to do.  What was inevitable.

[knifedancer]

Hiccups (Part 1 of 2)

Marinette has incurable hiccups. Her classmates try every home remedy they can think of but nothing works. Felix thinks of one last thing she could try.

Next AO3 Link

~~~~~~~

Marinette started the morning like any other: late. Slamming her hand down on the alarm clock to shut off the blaring sounds it was making, she fell out of bed with a dull thump followed by a soft groan. As she stared through the angles of her twisted limbs caught in her blanket, Marinette acknowledged she was far more tired this morning than usual because of the one thing that she could not miracle away as Ladybug and had never found a solution for. The plague upon her life that she suffered from for years. The menace known as…

“HIC! Ugh, why did I have to have – HIC! – hiccups?” Marinette groaned as she sat up and untangled herself from the uncomfortable position she had fallen into.

Tikki flew over the teen piled on the floor and chimed, “Marinette, you’re going to be late!”

“I know, Tikki, but – HIC! HIC! – you know I’ve been up all night dealing with these hiccups. I’m so – HIC! – tired. Argh!” She threw her hands up in surrender and stumbled toward the bathroom to get ready.

The little red kwami, having experienced Marinette’s hiccup fits before, giggled a bit at her chosen’s morning antics. However, with a near tumble down the stairs and quick pitstop in the bakery below to grab cookies for Tikki, they were on their way in fifteen minutes. If she rushed, they would make it before the bell! Marinette sprinted to school, hiccupping through huffed breathing as she managed to slide into her seat just as the bell rang. Luckily for her, Madam Bustier was out sick that day and the substitute was still searching through their paperwork to find the attendance sheet.

“Girl, don’t tell me you have the hiccups?” Alya asked in a whisper.

“Hey – HIC! – Alya. Yeah, I didn’t sleep at all because I – HIC! – kept waking up all night,” whispered back the exhausted teen.

“Did you try drinking a glass of water? That always settles my hiccups,” replied Alya.

Marinette opened her mouth to reply when she was interrupted by yet another set of hiccups. Nino decided to intervene on his childhood friend’s behalf. “Mari’s hiccups are legendary, babe! Nothing cures them! One time in fifth grade her hiccups lasted a whole week before they went away.”

It was then that the substitute hushed the class and started roll call. Marinette tried to call ‘present’ when her name was announced but was only able to raise her hand as yet another loud hiccup escaped her mouth and echoed around the classroom. As the class began to giggle, she felt mortified and resigned herself to the embarrassment that would be her life today. Adrien spared her a pitying glance and small smile over his shoulder, Marinette melted a bit as she shyly waved in acknowledgement. ‘He’s so sweet, too bad his smile doesn’t cure my hiccups. At least he’s not laughing at me. Maybe today won’t be so bad?’ Marinette thought hopefully.

The class was quickly shushed, handed a History worksheet that they could work on in pairs, and told they could socialize quietly if they finished their work early that period. Marinette turned to Alya and got to work. Marinette wasn’t looking forward to attempting to talk through her hiccups, but she wouldn’t mind trying to catch a short nap during their downtime. Unfortunately for her, their classmates were never going to allow the poor girl to rest when they had a cure to find! Thus, during the last 30 minutes in the period, Marinette found her desk surrounded by her friends inquiring about her hiccups and tossing remedy ideas around.

“Mari, have you tried holding your breath?” Kim asked. “Always works for me!”

“Bet my cure for hiccups will work and yours won’t,” challenged Alix.

“Guys, maybe – HIC! – don’t bet on – HIC!” started Marinette.

“You’re ON!” readily agreed the jock as if Marinette had not just spoken.

‘This is going to be a long day…,’ thought Marinette tiredly.

The day passed slowly, punctuated by random jump scares at lunch and unending suggestions from every classmate for solutions to her plight. Each suggestion was followed by Max calling out the probability of success as calculated by Markov. Well, almost every classmate was invested... Felix, as usual, was attempting to enjoy his book and ignore the hubbub around him. Marinette had caught a glimpse of him scowling at her for a fit of hiccups that interrupted the quiet reading time during Literature class. However, as soon as the look was given and before she could attempt to whisper an apology, Felix’s face returned to the indifferent mask he always wore and buried his nose back into his book. The girl huffed softly and went back to drowsily staring at the page of increasingly jumbled words.

Much to her disappointment, her classmates’ never-ending exuberance to help with her hiccups left Marinette without a single moment to rest and, as each hour dragged on, the little energy she had waned even further. All she wanted to do was lay her head down for a few minutes! However, during their free period, her classmates kept piling on the suggestions until she finally sleepily acquiesced to attempting these supposed “cures.” Alya kept a list of their tests and the results:

Jump scare(s), failure.

Breathe into a paper bag, failure.

Running a marathon. (“Really, Kim?”)

Slowly drink a full glass of water, failure.

Pull knees to chest and lean forward, failure.

Swallow granulated sugar, failure.

Bite into a lemon, failure.

Hold your breath (until she nearly fainted), failure.

Practiced measured breathing, failure.

Squeezing your nose while swallowing water, failure.

Stretching her solar plexus, failure.

Standing on your head and drinking water upside-down, failure.

Holding your breath and swallowing three times, failure.

Gargling cold water, failure.

After the last failed attempt ended with water spilling on her shirt from a wayward hiccup mid-gargle, Marinette held up her hands in defeat and stopped. The bell had rung and there was a brief break that she wanted to go retrieve a spare shirt from her locker. ‘Just a couple more periods until school is over,’ she thought as she dragged herself downstairs to her locker. ‘Hopefully there won’t be an akuma attack before these go away! How embarrassing would it be to have hiccups as Ladybug? Chat would never let me live it down!’

Marinette felt Tikki’s little reassuring pats through her purse as yet another strong hiccup popped up mid-yawn. She whined softly at not even being able to yawn without hiccupping. She pulled out the white athletic shirt and quickly exchanged the two with a sigh, making sure to refresh her lip gloss and straighten her pigtails before heading back to class. ‘At least P.E. isn’t until tomorrow,’ she thought, ‘maybe my luck is turning around and these hiccups will stop soon!’

~~ Fast forward to the end of school ~~

The final bell rang, chattering students poured from the classroom and out into the open air. Marinette was so exhausted that she moved in a sleepy trance, dragging her feet and swaying like a ship in a storm. ‘I’ll probably sleep right through my hiccups and an akuma alert at this point,’ she giggled deliriously at her thoughts. Luckily Alya just gave her an amused look while she grabbed Marinette’s elbow to keep the tired girl from falling on her face and guide her through the bustling halls. Once in the locker room, Alya gave her friend a gentle push down the correct aisle before meeting up with Nino and Adrien near the doorway.

Marinette opened her locker to exchange books for the homework due tomorrow. ‘Physics and French Literature? Shoot, did I need anything else?’ Her brow wrinkled with the concerted effort to recall the homework through the sleepy haze of her mind. She pulled a textbook from the shelf, only to have another tumble down when a powerful hiccup jostled her entire body. She cursed under her breath and quickly bent to pick it up, tossing it back into the locker while clutching the needed textbook to her chest so she wouldn’t drop it as well. Just as she turned away to recheck the books in her backpack, a shadow was cast over her feet. Marinette didn’t think much of it until her locker door was slammed shut, causing her to jump back against the next locker with a startled hiccup. She glanced up to find Felix leaned over her.

“Your hiccups have been interrupting my peace of mind all day, Miss Dupain-Cheng,” his voice sounding strangely sultry in the low but dismissive tone he was using. Felix’s right hand was firmly planted against the shut locker door, he had angled his body to face her square on and leaned slightly forward until their faces were close together. So close that she could see little flecks of gold in his green eyes and was momentarily stunned speechless by the intensity of his gaze. He gently lifted her chin with his left hand and his voice dropped down to a teasing murmur, “perhaps there might be one solution you have not yet tried.”

Everything seemed to slow and quiet around them in this moment. She could smell his cologne, the starch from his clothes, and the minty scent of his breath. Felix’s gaze flickered from her eyes to her lips as if asking for permission. If she had not been staring into his eyes, she might have missed the movement entirely. Marinette’s breath hitched with a small, almost imperceptible hiccup as her eyes started to close on instinct to his closeness. ‘Is this really happening?’ She thought. ‘No, the real Felix wouldn’t kiss me. This must be a delusion brought on by an akuma or lack of sleep. Wouldn’t hurt to be curious if this is just a dream though…’ She missed the tiny, conspiratorial smile that graced his lips before he leaned forward, closing the distance between them.

The world seemed to fall completely away as their lips met in a chaste kiss, sending an electric tingle down her spine. A rush of warmth blossomed in her chest. ‘What is this feeling? His lips are so soft,’ Marinette thought. Felix pushed forward slightly and deepened the kiss with a breathy moan. His lips teased hers until he gently bit her bottom lip, causing her to softly gasp into his mouth. Her fingers tightened their hold on her textbook in response, gripping it closer to anchor herself to the ground while her heart tried to flutter from her chest. The kiss was unexpectedly tender yet hungry, as if finding water after a long walk through the desert; firm yet gentle, like the softest satin fabric she had ever touched. The grip on her textbook began to falter as Felix’s hand started to slide down her jaw to cup her cheek. Her fingers itched to touch him. Before she could let go of the book to cave to the need to pull him in closer, a scandalized cry from their periphery broke through the quiet that had engulfed them.

The boy tugged on her lip lightly as he pulled back and she shivered as his warm hand left her skin. Marinette opened her eyes slowly as if breaking a spell. Looking up at the boy with wide eyes and her mouth still hanging slightly open, her bottom lip swollen from his gentle ministrations. His eyes were soft and he sported a surprised expression. His tongue darted out to lick at her transferred lip gloss now adorning his own. “You taste like strawberries…,” he murmured absentmindedly, just loud enough for her to hear.

With that statement, sound and time seemed to return to normal in an instant. From the corner of her eye, she could see a shocked Nino holding back an angry looking Alya ready to go on the warpath. Next to them, Adrien seemed to be confused and distraught over what he had just witnessed happen to his ‘very dear friend.’ Marinette’s face and neck grew hot as reality came crashing back but she couldn’t find any words to speak, let alone think, as if Felix had stolen that ability from her with his kiss. All she could do was stare at the boy in front of her while students hollered and whooped around them. Marinette.exe has stopped working.

However, one sound in particular was completely silent…

A smug and aloof look returned to Felix’s face as he pushed off from the locker where his hand had been and stood straight. “Seems your hiccups are gone, mademoiselle. I would appreciate if you would refrain from causing such a disturbance with your hiccups in the future.” The statement was delivered in his usual haughty, mocking tone. With that he gripped his bag strap, slightly nodded his head towards her, and walked away looking completely unfazed by what had just occurred. In his wake he left a flustered and speechless girl leaning against the lockers for support, staring off into the space he had just inhabited. Her knees shook before she slid down to the floor, her textbook sliding from her numb fingers. She was immediately swarmed by friends barraging her with questions she was unable to answer. She just needed a minute. Or twenty.

No one noticed nor paid attention to the smug looking Felix as he retreated from the building and got into his family limo. Once in the quiet protection of the tinted car, his hand touched his lips with trembling fingers and his breathing became slightly uneven. His ears turned pink as he recalled every second of the kiss in agonizing detail. A kiss that, while originally meant to be in jest, had affected him more than he would ever admit. ‘Marinette…,’ his mind whispered longingly to him. Felix’s left hand tightened its grip on his bag. He involuntarily gazed back towards the front of the school to catch a glimpse of her stumbling out in a daze as his car pulled away.

~~ BONUS SCENE ~~

The akuma should have been expected after what happened at the end of school. Lila became enraged about the kiss and having to watch their classmates positively fawn over Marinette. There was no way for the liar to twist this into making her look good nor gain sympathetic attention. It was completely predictable really. What was NOT predictable was that, when Lila, now called The Embarrassator, switched targets when she could not find Marinette.

‘Great! The first time I’ve been the target of an akuma while NOT impersonating my cousin!’ Felix thought. He hoped Ladybug didn’t still hold a grudge for that attempted kiss months ago. It’s not like he had the ability to apologize to the bug-themed heroine but he regretted it now. If she decided to spite him, he was probably going to suffer until that annoying cat boy destroyed the akumatized object. ‘I just wanted a quiet evening trip to the library to get a new book! Is that so much to ask?’

Felix saw an opening and bolted from his hiding place to try to get around the corner without being noticed by The Embarrassator. Unfortunately, luck was not on his side. He heard the akuma’s cackle before her ray hit him in the back. Immediately he was wracked with hiccups, coughing between fits in an attempt to bring air to his seizing lungs. He barely noticed his clothes had transformed into an atrocious orange and hot pink jumpsuit with oversized shoes before he was running again, the akuma hot on his heels. He managed to make it about two blocks when his shoe caught on a crack in the pavement and he fell.

Within seconds, and before he could hit the ground, he was airborne. Wrapped in a slender red polka-dotted arm that held him over a petite shoulder like a mere sack of potatoes. The wind whipped at his hair and face, leaving him a disheveled mess. ‘Just great,’ he thought, ‘this can’t get any more embarrassing.’ They landed on a rooftop many blocks away from the akuma and he was set onto his feet. He stumbled back against a nearby chimney to regain his bearings from the sudden flight by magical yo-yo and hiccupped through a clipped but grateful response for being rescued.

Ladybug took in his appearance and a smirk grew across her face. “Did the akuma do this to you?” She asked, gesturing to his outfit.

“Yes, and the – HIC! – these dreaded – HIC! HIC! – hiccups!” Felix replied with exasperation. He saw Chat Noir land near the edge of the rooftop a few meters behind Ladybug as if waiting for her cue. The cat took one look at Felix and began uproariously laughing. “You try – HIC! – getting hit – HIC! – by that damned – HIC! HIC! – akuma!” Chat laughed even harder, tears beginning to form at the corners of his mask.

Ladybug was smug but quiet, her eyes seemed calculating yet sparkled with humor. Before he could even hiccup out a scathing remark or head toward the fire escape with his tattered dignity, a bright red glove landed with a loud thud against the chimney next to his head. His eyes widened with surprise as the lithe Ladybug executed a perfect kabedon maneuver. He pressed his back and the palms of his hands into the plaster of the wall behind him. He glanced up to her hand and was gobsmacked as he noted small cracks had formed at the point of impact. ‘Blimey! Just how strong is she? Did she pull her punch before?’ Felix wondered, suddenly feeling the phantom sensation of the punch from their prior interaction. She still had her yo-yo in her free hand and used the edge to tip his face to look at her. Once he met her commanding blue eyes, he was powerless to look away. ‘Her eyes…they remind me of…’

With that last fractured thought and no warning, her lips met his in a heated kiss. From the edges of his mind he heard Chat Noir’s shocked exclamation of “My Lady!” But Felix? He was lost to the sensation of Ladybug’s lips on his own, drowning in the torrent of confusing emotions that bubbled up in his chest. Her lips moved possessively and all he could do was hold on to the chimney as she claimed his. However the kiss ended as suddenly as it started, leaving Felix with a dazed, half-lidded look as he leaned forward slightly to instinctively chase her departing lips.

“Just returning the favor, monsieur,” she murmured playfully as she straightened with a smirk.

“I…what…,” began Felix, his brain still a jumble.

He watched numbly as she sashayed over to a shocked Chat Noir, whose jaw hung wide open. Bumping him with her shoulder, she motioned with a nod of her head towards an explosion and screams in the distance. She gave a two-finger salute and a wink over her shoulder to Felix before launching herself off the roof. With a confident call of “bug out!” she swung out of sight. He witnessed Chat look dumbly off towards the retreating figure of his Lady before glancing confusedly back at Felix. He swore he heard Chat mutter something about kisses and bluenette ladies in his life. Chat physically shook himself and abruptly jumped off the side of the roof without a second glance at the flabbergasted Felix.

It wasn’t until he was climbing down the fire escape to the echoes of the distant ongoing akuma battle before he realized his blasted hiccups were gone.

[writingoncloudydays]

I need you more than you know

Summary: Dean needs Castiel more than he realizes. The thought of not having him hurts more than he will admit.

Warnings: Angsty, mention and description of character death, hurt/ no comfort, mentions of vomit.

0.87k Words

The hunt had only been a couple of hours away, and there were only a few vampires. However, they did happen to get Sam and Dean into trouble, leading Castiel to make a dramatic entrance to save them both. Nealy gets hurt but quickly recovers, hoping to hide the fact from Sam and Dean. Dean saw it—he always did. He saw the rush of panic sweep Castiel's eyes; his body stiffened as he quickly thought of his next move.

Sam was thankful, of course. Dean, however, had a little more trouble expecting help. He and Castiel had hit a rough patch again, and Castiel had only recently come back after dying again. Though he seemed to reject the idea of Castiel helping them, his anger masked his worry.

The thought of losing him again hurt more than it should. The image of Castiel lying lifeless in his arms, those once shining blue eyes now a dual grey staring back at him. His lips were slightly parted as the last breath escaped them, slipping past in a quiet sigh. The weight of his body presses against slightly falling, only stopping when Dean grips tighter onto him. Tears swell in his eyes, blurring the sight of his lover best friend dead in his arms.

The feeling of his chest fighting a high-pitched ringing in his ears. The compression of his chest turned his breath shallow and quick. A thick layer of sweat soaked his shirt, making the material uncomfortable on his skin. The shortness of breath fuels the dizzy feeling consuming him. The ringing heightens its pitch, and the sound is now becoming unbearable. Head-pounding thoughts swim, and he feels himself drown in guilt.

Dean could still feel Castiels hands slip out of his own, losing the warmth that Dean craved to feel against him. They don't want to be the reason Castiel's eyes shine bright; they need to see them sparkle in the sunlight. Watching as light hits them alters the colour to a pale blue that stares into his soul. To feel the connection between them every time they touch, small lingering touches that only they seem to notice.

The small touches push their friendship closer to the border, but neither one will admit it. Noting but secret touches and lingering touches, not wanting to push the boards of friendship. They're drawn to each other. Something connects their souls. Pushing them towards each other despite everything else around them. It's always them. Nothing else matters.

Eyes locking for longer than necessary blue night, staring back into a green forest. Colours clash but mix well, with the sky swimming through the green grass, rain falling into trees, and the bark painting in droplets. Eyes slowly drop down to each other lips, slightly parting them, the other running his tongue over his bottom lip. The realisation of their situations dawns on them both. Eyes no longer staring at faces, now focused hands in closed fists. Fighting then the thin line between friends and lovers that neither dares to cross.

Nothing was said between them, and nothing will ever be said. Things stay the same. That's how things were: nothing would change. The risk was too high, and the game would continue as it always did. The feelings that burn inside them will never become a flaming forest.

A candle had only a small spark, and the wind threatened to put it out. The fine line between friends and lovers weighed on the candle, flicking with every lingering touch, game of jealousy, fight, and every godman time they had woken in each other's beds in each other's arms. No one dared to say anything. It was easier that way, wasn't it, not to have the risk of being set a flame?

Dean wanted to confess that he wanted to feel Castiel against him. He wanted someone to care for him, tell him it's okay to cry, comfort him. To wake up in his arms, breathing softly, his face relaxed against Castiek's chest, smiley softly at the sight above him.

Yet now, he would never get the chance to have him as his lover Castiel was gone, and they hadn't gotten him back. It wasn't Castiel who saved Sam and Dean on the hunt; it was Charlie, not Castiel.

Dean's brain tried to heal his heart by replacing the hurt with closure, which only worsened things. Nothing seems to help anymore apart from the liquor in his beer bottle, which is now empty; only a thin layer coats the bottom. Many bottles linger around his room, the stench becoming thick, mixing with the smell of dried vomit. Only having liquor and small amounts of food a day, that's if he remembers to eat. His body feels dead, his heart clinging to the little hope of getting Castiel back. His brain fighting to keep him alive, but it falls deaf on his ears.

Dean was affected by Castiels death more than he wanted to admit. The pain was unbearable. His heart ached. A piece was messing that nobody else could replace.

Dean could not expect Cass's death.

Dean misses Cass. He missed his best friend.

Dean loves loved Castiel more than he wanted to admit.

[writingwife-83]

Character A: I’m not in love with you, ok? And what’s more, I never will be. There’s nothing here between us. You need to stop waiting for something that will never happen, and just move on.

Character B: …

Character A: well, say something.

Character B: That’s was a nice speech. Very well said. Tell me, when you were planning it out… did you actually convince yourself that it was true?

[staynoonaz9290]

Temptation - Season 2

Where Maddie and Lila are back six months later, still managers of Stray Kids, navigating the world of incubi, and worse… Dealing with unexpected feelings

Group: Stray Kids

Pairing: Each SKZ Member/Fem! Reader, Chan/Fem! Reader (Third Person - Lila), Hyunjin/Fem! Reader (Third Person - Maddie), Jeongin/Fem! Reader (Third Person - Maddie)

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Semi-Public Sex, Oral Sex (F-Given & M-Given), Supernatural Elements, AU - Incubi, Dirty Talk, Seduction, Heavy Angst, Language, Love Triangle, Complicated Relationships, Fighting, Feelings Denial

Chapters: 29

Word Count: 100,694

Main Masterlist | Stray Kids Masterlist

COMPLETE

This is Season 2 of my ✨Temptation✨ series! Here are all the season links below:

Temptation - Season 1: AO3 Link

Temptation - Season 2: You Are Here 📌

Preview:

Maddie walked quickly down the familiar upstairs hallway of their mansion, passing each incubus room and reaching up to flatten her hair.

As if it mattered.

She laughed at herself, taking her fingers from the strands as she walked by door after door, knowing exactly which room she was looking for-

It had been a crazy week- all weeks were crazy nowadays, as a manager of Stray Kids- but she’d been running around morning until night, trying to get them ready for their comeback, keeping their feeding on track, following the schedules, and most of all- keeping everyone sane.

She’d taken one look at next week’s schedule- filled with promotions, stages, and interviews- and knew it was going to be just as busy.

So Maddie was glad to be getting a bit of stress relief .

Her stomach flipped excitedly at the thought, and even as she rolled her eyes at such a stupid reaction, she was smiling…

Stopping in front of the second to last door, she paused before knocking three times.

Almost instantly, the knob was twisting and the door was thrown open.

Blonde hair- when had Maddie ever liked that before now?- hanging long and a little in his face, eyes flickering purple, a playful smirk pulling on the corners of his beautiful lips.

Hyunjin

Maddie barely had time to look at him before he was grabbing her wrist, pulling her quickly inside.

“Finally.”

She giggled, stumbling with the quickness of his movements before her back was against the wall, Hyunjin smiling a little as the door shut behind him.

Then he was swooping down, kissing her hard, and Maddie’s arms were wrapping around his neck, the feel of it indescribable .

She was still getting used to the incubus powers- the way Hyunjin’s fingers would slide up the length of her arms, and her skin was suddenly alive , burning in the best of ways, heart racing in her chest, desire running through her veins as she held him closer-

Hyunjin pulled his lips from hers, and Maddie’s head was falling back, finding it a little hard to breathe as he kissed down her neck.

“You took way too long to come up here,” he muttered near her ear, nose tickling her skin. “I almost went and called someone else.”

Maddie wouldn’t have cared- right? - and she laughed, her voice a little strained as Hyunjin’s hands slid slowly down her sides.

“Yeah? You should have. I’m getting tired of this.”

“ Tch -”

Hyunjin’s humored exhale had hot breath ghosting across Maddie’s neck, and the feeling of it was a little more than she could handle, a small gasp slipping from her lips, arms tightening just slightly around him.

And even though she couldn’t see him, she knew he was smirking, speaking against her skin again as his fingers fiddled with the hem of her shirt.

“No you’re not.”

If you liked this preview, you can read the whole novel here on my AO3 page 😊!

[includedisco]

Who's ready for some JoongDunk romantic and sexual tension ??? I got a story for you😀

I completed this one a while back.

It's basically a spicy story about Joong being a whole snack and Dunk being unable to resist him.

Here is a snippet and the link below!

Dunk’s gaze starts from Joong's feet, slowly going up and taking in his entire appearance- The perfect fit of his jeans on those sturdy, healthy legs and then Dunk's gaze stops to linger on Joong's groin, the divulging bulge there. Thanks to their experience filming bedroom scenes together, Dunk is aware of exactly how gifted Joong is down there.

His breath catches in his throat as the beat of his heart intensifies so much that he feels a little light-headed from it. 

There is a stir of interest inside the front of Dunk’s own pants and he’s getting hot all over, embarrassed by his own reaction to Joong of all people.

 For fuck’s sake.

Dunk forces his gaze the rest of the way up Joong’s body and as his gaze skims over Joong's broad chest and shoulders, he recalls a time a few months ago when he’d shamelessly spent more time than was necessary on browsing through Joong’s shirtless instagram photos.

Dunk unconsciously bites down on his lower lip, totally and shamelessly undressing Joong with his eyes. When, why and how did Joong get so damn sexy?

Dunk finally meets Joong's gaze and he's ready to make some snide remark but that urge gets side-tracked entirely when his gaze drops down to Joong’s lips.

Oh how delicious they taste.

"How the hell are you so hot?" Dunk blurts out before he can employ a filter between his brain and his mouth. Not that the fog swirling in his brain would save him from any humiliation right now. On the inside Dunk is mortified by his behaviour but somewhere between that and the rest of his drunken self, there is a serious disconnection happening.

Joong’s eyes widen slightly, their boyishly adorable depths open and filled with astonishment; but then that quickly changes as a smirk slowly spreads across his face. "You think I'm hot?"

“I think you’re aware of this.”

Joong takes another step forward, just shy of Dunk's personal space. Dunk's feet remain rooted to that spot on the floor, surprising even himself. Standing this close to Joong, his scent engulfs Dunk most tantalizingly.

Damn! What the hell is going on tonight?

"Tell me about the other things you secretly like about me, Dunk.”

"Secretly?" Dunk scoffs. "You're making it sound like I've been fantasising about you."

"Haven't you?"

"No."

Joong is well inside Dunk personal space by now, not touching him but so close that it feels like he is. Dunk is burning with anticipation. "You're so pretty." Joong mutters, staring closely at Dunk with some wonder and adoration.

Dunk groans. "Don't start."

Joong slides his arms around Dunk's waist, finally closing the rest of the space between them. Dunk’s breathe catches in his throat at how good this feels. "But I'm so into you."

In one swift motion, Dunk kisses Joong, giving into the hunger coming from a place much deeper than just lips and tongue. It feels like he needs to kiss Joong to stay sane.

Joong kisses back, every move he makes just as demanding as Dunk’s. 

Dunk pulls back and looks at a shocked Joong, breathing heavily with Joong's face between the palms of the hands. Joong stares back at him with a matching wild look of passion in his eyes.

The kiss they just had is far from enough for Dunk and he can tell Joong is thinking the same thing. So he kisses Joong again and this time Joong isn't as caught off guard so he deepens the kiss right away, chasing both their satisfaction. Through this kiss, Dunk releases all the pent up frustration he had no idea he’s been walking around with from resisting Joong’s affection towards him, not to mention Joong’s blazing hotness. 

The taste of whisky on Joong's tongue is the sweetest thing Dunk has tasted in a while. Dunk can’t remember Joong’s lips tasting this good when they kissed on set of their TV series months ago.

Joong is in fact a great kisser, passionate and intentional with every swipe of his tongue as he licks into Dunk's mouth like he can't get enough of its addicting taste.

Joong wraps his arms around Dunk's waist and a soft moan escapes Dunk because he likes that.  It's so possessive and confident.

He slides his arms around Joong's neck and relaxes more into the kiss, giving into Joong's insistent effort to take the lead.

Joong's lips move to Dunk's chin and then his neck, licking, biting and sucking along their way. Dunk moans louder in delight.

"I want to suck you off." He mutters in between kisses, so delirious with pleasure that the filter between his brain and mouth gets stripped completely.

"Baby, you're driving me crazy saying that." Joong murmurs fervently.

"I can't stop thinking about what you'd taste like on my tongue."

"Let's go to my place." Joong suggests.

"Okay."

Joong pulls back, eyes wide in shock. Wait, really?"

Dunk nods and smiles. "I want you."

"You're drunk, more so than I am."

Dunk caresses Joong's smooth cheek. "I've thought about it a lot."

"What have you thought about?"

Dunk drops the hand he just had on Joong's cheek down to Joong's crotch. A contented gasp escapes him when he finds that Joong is nice and hard already. He strokes Joong through his pants, enjoying the view of the pleasure across Joong's features.

"The image of you pinning me to your bed and fucking me." Dunk replies and then he leans into Joong and whispers into his ear. "You know what else? I'm partly a pillow princess. I've thought about you having your way with me while I lie there and just take it." 

Apparently there is nothing else to discuss because the next thing Dunk knows, Joong is taking his hand and leading him out of the restroom.

Follow link below to read the rest☺️

[ricihh]

I'm back!! Brazilian Mandy and Piper x Mandy for y'all!! 💥💥💥

Rating: E

Fandom: Brawl Stars

Relationship: Mandy/Piper, Background Chester/Lawrie

Main Tags: Oneshot, Porn With Plot, Romance, Mild Slow Burn, Rivals to Lovers, Lesbian Sex, Feelings Realization, Falling in Love, Alternate Universe - Brazil, Carnaval

Warnings: None!

Summary: Or, Piper beats Mandy in the flag bearer contest, making Mandy wonder why they chose Piper over her.

Piper shows her why, and this causes new feelings to blossom, as well as changing the trajectory of Mandy's life forever.

[aziraphales-library]

How about fics featuring denial of their love? Or that explore specifically Aziraphale's denial.

You can check our #denial of feelings and #not actually unrequited love tags for fics like this. Here are some more to add to the collection...

What friends are for by Melime (T)

Back in his shop after evading Furfur, Aziraphale starts to wonder about Crowley's new name, and almost comes to a realisation.

But The Smoke Clears When You're Around by midnightdragons (T)

“Mhm,” Crowley mumbled, before closing his eyes, curling back up around Aziraphale, and promptly falling back to sleep, one hand hooked loosely around the angel’s middle, his face pressed into his chest. Aziraphale looked down at him, his heart seizing in his chest, and gently hugged him close. “You are silly, my sweet boy,” he whispered breathlessly, sparing a single chaste kiss to the demon’s forehead. “And I . . .” Love you, he wanted to say. Wanted so badly to say it, to reveal it to the world, if only for a single moment. After the Armageddon that wasn't, Crowley can't rid himself of the trauma caused by a certain event, and shields himself with defensive anger and a mask of irritation. Aziraphale convinces him that it's okay to rest and recover. (Alternatively: purely sleepy intimacy, comfort, and fluff, accompanied by the lingering scent of smoke in a bookshop.)

Everything by IneffableDoll (G)

“Oh angel, I’d wait to the end of the world.” Two love confessions, two thousand years apart. Denial is a heck of a thing.

reply to my tenderness by losttrackofmysoul (T)

In the beginning, there had been Crowley, Aziraphale and the Garden containing the start of human kind. A couple centuries later, the red string of fate appeared and things got easier for humans and vastly more complicated for a certain angel, specially when he discovers his own string, which shouldn't exist in the first place, is tied to the demon he's known for 6000 years.

Nothing Else Matters by EdosianOrchids901 (T)

When two angry Archangels drop by the shop, Aziraphale pleads with Crowley not to intervene. After surviving a harsh punishment, can Aziraphale be honest about why Crowley’s safety is so important to him? And can Crowley work though his guilt for not protecting Aziraphale?

Definitions of Love by organizechaos (T)

Aziraphale thinks that all the abuse and trauma he endured in heaven is ‘love’. After being freed after the apocalypse, the angel is beyond happy. He wants nothing more than to spend eternity with Crowley but the demon is ready to put a name to their feelings. They both know that they care for each other deeply and when Crowley finally has the courage to put it in words (‘I love you’), it sends Aziraphale spiraling into believing Crowley will start treating him like heaven did. "We- we don't have to pretend anymore.” Crowley stuttered out, golden eyes looking frantically about the angel. His sunglasses were clutched tightly in the palm of his hand, “The apocalypse is over, it has been for years. Can't we- can't we say it now?" his voice wavered only slightly. "I don't love you, Crowley." Aziraphale emphasized each word to better help the demon understand. He had never truly loved something in all his years of existence, he didn’t think he was capable. To love another being — especially Crowley... "I could never love you."

- Mod D

[dailysonadowfanfics]

Reading every single Sonadow Fanfic (Ao3): 260/4.772

Title: Just Say It Shadow

Author: Codeluluchan

Website: Ao3

Published: 13.09.2019

Word Count: 943 words

Language: English

Suited for minors? Yes

Warnings: No

Smut? No

Finished? Yes

Characters: Sonic the Hedgehog, Shadow the Hedgehog, Rouge the Bat

Ships: Sonic/Shadow

Author Tags: Songfic, Hercules (1997) References, Denial of Feelings

Author Summary: Rouge just wants Shadow to let himself be happy, Shadow just wanted a drink, and why is everyone singing?

My summary: Song fic based on that Disney Hercules movie. Shadow doesn't want to admit his feelings for Sonic.

You can read it here

[melancholyclover]

he replied, i want to die

-

There is nothing of you left in him. Hold him gently in your final moments, even if he still looks at you like you’re a stranger. His heart is more broken than he lets on. He has been cracked enough as it is, don’t you think? It is better to let him forget and never know of all the agony he has suffered.