#dysfunctional sleepy bois

[euclydya]

LITERALLY what if i slept all day

[luvst4rc0r3]

Loser Jinx x loser reader?🥹

I couldnt think of a plot so here are headcannons

Jinx isn’t used to romance, so everything she does to show affection is awkward but adorable.

She’ll give you random gifts, but they’re the most bizarre things—a cool-looking rock, a broken watch, a bullet with your initials scratched on it.

You blush easily, and she lives for it. If she catches you getting flustered, she’ll get way too close and go, “Aww, is my little loser embarrassed?”

Holding hands? Oh, boy. The first time it happens, you both just freeze like broken NPCs before one of you nervously laces your fingers together.

The first time she kisses you, she laughs mid-kiss because she got too excited and then apologizes while giggling. Pinky promises are serious business. Jinx will absolutely make you pinky swear on dumb things like "Promise me you’ll eat today" or "Swear you won’t die before I get back."

You two have the dumbest inside jokes, like calling random objects “boyfriend” or making up fake tragic backstories for inanimate things. If you’re feeling down, Jinx will plop into your lap and dramatically go, "No sad losers allowed! Only slightly dysfunctional but adorable losers."

She loves messing with your hair—braiding it, ruffling it, sticking random objects in it just to see if you notice.

If you ever try to return the favor, she’ll melt on the spot but act like she’s totally fine ("Pfft, whatever, it’s not like I like it or anything—").

Jinx isn’t used to soft affection, so cuddling at first is just her flopping onto you like a cat. If she’s feeling extra clingy, she’ll wrap her arms around you and refuse to let go (“Nope, you’re stuck. Welcome to your new life as my personal pillow.”)

If you fall asleep before her, she’ll trace little shapes on your arm or play with your fingers while whispering nonsense stories. Sleepy Jinx is extra sweet—she gets all mumbly and whiny if you try to move away. "Nooo, stay. You're warm."

You both mutter weird dreams in your sleep, and sometimes you wake up to Jinx just staring at you like, “Okay, so… what do you mean by ‘The toast is alive’?”

Jinx doesn’t know how to be normal about love, so her love notes are chaotic doodles with messages like, “If you die, I’m bringing you back just to kill you myself. Love ya! 💙” If she sees something that reminds her of you, she’ll steal it and proudly present it like a cat bringing gifts.

She’ll act nonchalant about compliments, but if you tell her she’s pretty, she’ll go "Pfft, duh" while secretly grinning like an idiot.

The first time you tell her you love her, she short-circuits and has to physically shake herself out of it before going, "Ew, gross. Say it again." Arcade date? She cheats at every game and still somehow loses to you, so she demands a rematch (and still loses).

Cooking together? Absolute disaster. She puts way too much spice in everything, and you both end up eating cereal instead. Cloud-watching? Turns into making up the dumbest stories about what the clouds look like.

Firework-watching? She gets distracted watching your face instead and teases you for getting all starry-eyed ("Aww, my little loser is so sentimental!"). You and Jinx are just two awkward dorks, completely and utterly in love. It’s the kind of love where you’re both each other’s safe place, even when the world feels like chaos.

No matter how much teasing and goofing around happens, she never lets you forget how much you mean to her. "You're stuck with me, loser. Forever." And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

I WANT FOOD

[bighitfics]

tattoist bf jungkook x youtuber gf

social media.

their ship dynamics.

eldest daughter and youngest son.

introverted boyfriend and his overly energetic ambivert girlfriend.

girlfriend who looks like a cinnamon bun but could kill you with her words, boyfriend who looks like he would kill you but he’s the actual cinnamon bun.

sensitive gf who cries at everything, chill bf who overthinks time to time.

cold hands girlfriend, warm hands boyfriend.

a girl who comes from a dysfunctional household, and a boy with a loving and supportive family.

cuddly boy and his sleepy girl.

guilty girlfriend with a shopping addiction, boyfriend who spoils her endlessly.

coffee lover gf, anti coffee bf.

girlfriend who thinks she’s an unlovable person, boyfriend who loves her like its breathing.

private but not a secret kinda relationship.

acts of service & quality time boyfriend & his physical touch girlfriend.

never shy away from posting each other.

jungkook being the standard.

texting each other whenever they’re away <3

ps (for the confused people) “밤의 엄마” means bam’s mom <3

hope the girlies love it 🐾

[honeyoru]

Too late (law x reader)

trying to practice writing one shots more in between my never-ending outlining for my WIPs.

law x reader, mentions of zoro x reader, sad boi law :( 1300+ words

“You-you what?” you shakily exclaim, looking over your shoulder to make sure neither of your crews could hear you. 

Law thinks he’s never been so open, so exposed as when he asks to speak with you, tugging you into the shadows on the Straw Hats’ ship during their party celebrating their last night as an alliance. He chooses to rip your heart out again, telling you with a deep breath that he loves you. 

Saying you’re floored would be an understatement. 

It’s logical, he thinks with clenched fists, fingernails piercing his shaking palms. I was the one who decided to break up all those months ago, after all.

You graciously moved on since then, burying the hurt you felt to joke with him again, tease him with your Captain, finally able to meet his eyes without that sorrowful, pity-filled look that told him you understood why he decided to break your heart like a coward.

He couldn’t believe he had allowed himself to grow so close to you, to share tender, intimate moments in the middle of the night, where he could drop the indifferent mask he wore around everyone else.

To fall in love with you. 

You, who he first met all those years ago during a supply run at a sleepy little island. You weren’t a pirate back then, but a doctor-in-training that thrilled him with your vast amount of medical knowledge, caring nature, and wit. It was clear to him even then that there was more for you out there than what the island could ever give you.

His crew had teased him mercilessly about the person he was attached to even weeks after they’d departed. It wasn’t until you had parted ways, promising to meet up if he ever stopped by the island again that he regretted not listening to his frail, dimly beating heart that had urged him to beg you to join his crew, the smell of your coconut-scented shampoo haunting him.

When he spotted your sweet, gentle smile on a Bounty Poster years later, he couldn’t hide the proud grin that lit up his face. Crossing paths with you seemed more feasible now that you too were on the Grand Line, and he refused miss an opportunity like this again.

And later on, the rare, public smile he displayed upon seeing you again in person promptly dropped the moment your captain slingshotted into him and started calling him ‘Traffy.’ 

Were you so desperate to leave your island that you joined the first crew who asked? He couldn’t help but think so after that initial meeting with the Straw Hats, who bickered with all the closeness of a dysfunctional family and utterly baffled him with their antics, wondering all the while how they managed to charm someone so talented and perfect like you.

It was because of you that he agreed to the alliance in the first place, ever so motivated to get revenge for Cora-san and win your heart in one fell swoop.

And when you kissed him for the first time since he had left your island in the crow’s nest of the Sunny, Law would never admit that he had gone to sleep that night smiling like that love-sick cook of yours, heart soaring at the idea that a happy ending for him was feasible.

It wasn’t until he watched your interactions with your crew over your time spent together that he realized the silly fantasy he had was never going to happen. You were too close, too bonded with the Straw Hats, to ever leave for someone like him. 

So when you confessed in the privacy of his room after months of dating that you loved him, tucked in his arms in the way that he had grown so fond of, he panicked and did what he did best to salvage the pieces of his heart that would surely shatter when you would inevitably rejected him after the alliance was over. 

He hurt you.

It was for the best, he told himself as he spewed horrible, untrue, nasty things to you that he was certain you wouldn’t excuse, even for someone you loved, refusing to acknowledge that deep down, he knew you never expected him to say the three words back anytime soon.

He accepted the harsh words and fists of your crew and moved on as much as he could, retreating back to the role of a spectator just grateful enough to bask in your orbit for a little while longer before you would part ways.

He’s drawn back to the present when you scoff in disbelief.

“Why now?” you demand, unshed tears blurring the rage in your eyes at his audacity, the wide smile you had been wearing all night nowhere to be seen. “I’m with Zoro now, Law, I’m happy,” your voice cracks.

He closes his eyes, swallowing the bile that rises at the thought of the swordsman he inadvertently pushed you towards, who looks at you like he would crawl through hell if you asked him to. “I know.”

“So why then?” You ask harshly, your arms crossed as if you’re trying to hold yourself together. “Are you trying to mess with me? To get back at me for moving on?” 

“No.” Law feels a pain splintering throughout his chest when a tear finally falls. “I just… couldn’t leave without telling you,” he mumbles.

You angrily wipe it away. “I’ve been nothing but kind and gracious to you,” you spit. “Hell, I’ve tried to act like what you said, what we had, never happened. For this alliance, for my crew, and for you so you could finally get closure for... you know.”

He can’t help but shudder at the memory of his mentor, the movement catching your eye. 

You take a deep breath and dig your fingers into your arms, forcing yourself to keep talking and not give in to the innate urge to wrap him in a hug. Law thinks he can hear a wood plank creak from where your boyfriend is no doubt eavesdropping around the corner, ready to step in if you need it. “Luffy wanted to end the alliance the minute he found out, did you know that?”

He didn’t but it isn’t surprising; the Straw Hat had given him a look so carefully blank the day after the two of you broke up that Law finally understood why the rubber man had such a dangerous reputation. 

“I know you were scared, Law, I was too,” you whisper, eyebrows furrowed. “Being loved after so much heartbreak is terrifying. But you made a decision on how our relationship would end without giving me the chance to say anything about it. And those things you said to me,” Law feels his lungs strain at the way your lip quivers in a bitter smile. “We could have made it work, you know, after the alliance was over,” your tone falls soft. “All you had to do was ask.”

It’s then with your admission that Law is utterly aware he’s made a mistake confessing to you. He thought it would give him closure, to finally admit what he didn't want to believe since he first caught your eye back on your island years ago.

Instead it was a slap in the face for you, a taunt that all of the suffering he put you through could have been avoided if he’d only been less of a coward.

You sigh, scrubbing at your eyes before looking at him with a pained expression, turning towards Zoro, who had quietly stepped forward to guide you away from him. “I hope you can find someone in the future that you can give your heart to entirely, Law,” you tell him sincerely. 

He swallows down the regret that burns his throat as he watches you and Zoro walk away. 

[mrspiastri]

✴︎ jab we met 🧳

chapter 4. how can you undermine the romance of it all?

masterlist!

pairing: oscar piastri x reader (slight desi references but nothing too crazy)

cw: mental health issues, dysfunctional family, toxic relationships

wc: 5.1k words

an: clapping my hands like a seal rn

.° ｡𖦹˚ 𓇼 ｡𖦹° ｡. .° ｡𖦹˚ 𓇼 ｡𖦹° ｡. .° ｡𖦹˚ 𓇼 ｡𖦹° ｡. .° ｡

Oscar had done a lot of reckless things in the last few days.

Getting on a random train? Reckless.
Missing said train and ending up stranded? Reckless.
Following Y/N—who was, quite possibly, the most dangerous person he had ever met—not once, but multiple times? Suicidal.

And now, this.

Running away in the dead of night with a girl who had zero plans, a backpack stuffed with unnecessary junk, and a boyfriend waiting for her at the other end of this disaster.

God, he was an idiot.

“Come on, slowpoke!” Y/N whispered excitedly, still dragging him along.

Oscar let out a silent groan as they sprinted down the narrow, dimly lit street, their shadows stretching against the walls of sleepy homes. He could still feel the adrenaline in his veins from climbing out of the damn window, his body tense, waiting for someone to catch them.

“I cannot believe I let you talk me into this,” he muttered, his grip tightening on her wrist.

She turned back to him with a wide grin. “Believe it, rich boy. We’re criminals now.”

Oscar scoffed. “Criminals? Your grand crime is sneaking out to see your boyfriend.”

Y/N gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to her chest. “Oscar! That hurts! How could you undermine the romance of it all?”

Oscar rolled his eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware this was a Bollywood film.”

Y/N giggled, still leading him forward. “You’re just mad I didn’t run away for you.”

Oscar’s entire body locked up.

His stupid, traitorous heart gave the faintest twitch.

She didn’t mean anything by it, obviously. It was just a joke.

But that didn’t stop the flash of irritation—of something dangerously close to jealousy—before he could shove it down.

He scoffed, recovering quickly. “Mad? No. Disgusted? A little.”

She gasped again, eyes twinkling under the streetlights. “You love me.”

Oscar snorted. “I barely tolerate you.”

“You love me,” she sang, bumping her shoulder into his.

Oscar refused to entertain her nonsense. Instead, he focused on the fact that they were now at a crossroads—literally and figuratively.

He stood next to Y/N as she spoke to the rental- car service employee about the vehicle she booked for them to drive to the serene location of Coorg. As always, when she withdrew her wallet to pay, Oscar simply didn’t let her. He normally would slightly push her away, letting him make the payments, or would distract her by pointing at something behind her.

The moment they climbed into the car- a black open jeep- and settled into their seats, he turned to her, narrowing his eyes.

“I hate you.”

She grinned, resting her head on his shoulder.

“No, you don’t.”

Oscar let out a long breath, before inserting the key in and starting the vehicle up.

Because, annoyingly, she was right.

🪻🪻🪻

Oscar had many regrets in life.

Most of them were recent.
Some of them involved her.

And his biggest regret at this very moment?

Agreeing to run away with Y/N.

Because now, he was sitting in a rental car, speeding through winding roads, heading deeper into the hills of Coorg—to meet her boyfriend.

It was absolute hell.

“Smile, Osc!” Y/N nudged him with her elbow, her cheeks flushed from excitement. “You look like someone forced you on this trip.”

Oscar turned his head slowly, staring at her with dead eyes, trying to pretend that the nickname she used for him wasn’t making him malfunction internally.

“Someone did force me on this trip.”

She giggled, stretching her arms. “Ugh, you’re such a grump. It’s beautiful here! Look at the trees, the mist, the smell of fresh air—”

Oscar exhaled, rubbing his temples. “Y/N, do you realize what we’re doing?”

She blinked up at him. “Running away?”

“To your boyfriend’s house,” he deadpanned.

She grinned. “Exactly!”

Oscar clenched his jaw, forcing down the completely irrational irritation brewing inside him.

Because, realistically, this wasn’t a big deal.

She had a boyfriend. She loved him—enough to leave everything behind for him.

And yet, Oscar sat there, feeling like he was being dragged toward a fate he didn’t want to face.

Like he was willingly delivering her to someone else.

“Anyway,” Y/N continued, completely unaware of his inner turmoil, “we should reach by sundown.”

Oscar turned his gaze to the window, watching the landscape blur past, the green hills rolling into view as the mist thickened.

He didn’t respond.

Because he wasn’t sure what to say anymore.

By the time the car pulled into their destination, the sky was painted orange and pink, the air cool and crisp.

Y/N was practically jumping out of her seat, dragging Oscar along.

Oscar’s stomach twisted.

Because, of course, she was happy.

This was her boyfriend’s town.
Her happily ever after.

And Oscar?

Oscar was just passing through.

He stayed silent as the car sped through the winding roads, the air growing colder, the smell of rain-soaked earth and coffee plantations filling his lungs.

They turned a corner, and suddenly—

A large, traditional home came into view, nestled between tall trees and fog-covered hills.

Y/N’s face lit up instantly.

“We’re here,” she breathed, eyes shining.

Oscar stared at the house, an uneasy feeling creeping up his spine.

Something about this didn’t feel right.

Like he was walking straight into something he wasn’t ready for.

And yet, before he could process it—

Y/N was already running ahead.

And Oscar, like an idiot, followed.

🪻🪻🪻

Oscar had never believed in fate.

Not in the way Y/N did, with her wild superstitions and ridiculous faith that life always worked out in the end.

But as they stood in front of the large, traditional house, something inside him whispered that he shouldn’t have come here.

That something was about to go horribly wrong.

And yet, he followed her anyway.

Because she was smiling—this huge, bright smile, like she was seeing the beginning of her forever.

And God help him, but Oscar couldn’t tear his eyes away.

She didn’t even hesitate. She ran straight up to the front door, her backpack bouncing on her shoulders, and banged on it excitedly.

Oscar followed at a slower pace, his heartbeat strangely heavy in his chest.

The door swung open.

And there he was.

Karan.

Y/N’s boyfriend.

The man she had run across the country for.

The one she had left everything behind to be with.

And Oscar hated him instantly.

Karan was tall, well-dressed, with the kind of confidence that came from knowing exactly what you wanted in life.

But the moment he saw Y/N standing at his doorstep, his smile faltered.

Y/N didn’t notice.

She beamed.

“Karan!” she practically launched herself at him, throwing her arms around his shoulders. “I’m here! I finally made it!”

Oscar looked away, his chest tightening with something he refused to name.

Karan hesitated for a fraction of a second before awkwardly patting her back.

Y/N pulled away, grinning. “God, I missed you! I’ve been through so much to get here—you won’t even believe it. I lost all my luggage, almost got stranded, had to drag this guy—” she jerked a thumb at Oscar—“all the way across the country.”

Karan’s eyes flickered to Oscar, finally noticing him.

There was something in his gaze. A quiet tension.

Oscar didn’t like it.

But before he could process it, Y/N was already bouncing inside, laughing, spinning around like she was making herself at home.

“God, I can’t believe I’m actually here!” she said happily.

Oscar, however, stayed by the doorway.

Something was wrong.

He could feel it.

And then—Karan cleared his throat.

“Y/N,” he said carefully, his voice strange.

She turned to him, still smiling. “Yeah?”

And then—

He said the words that would shatter her world.

“What are you doing here?”

Silence.

The air shifted instantly.

Y/N’s smile froze.

Oscar’s jaw tensed.

She let out a nervous laugh, stepping closer. “What do you mean? I came for you, obviously.”

Karan sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Y/N, I…” He hesitated. “You shouldn’t have.”

Y/N blinked, like she hadn’t understood. “Wait… what?”

And Oscar?

Oscar already knew.

He had seen it in Karan’s eyes the moment he opened the door.

That guilt. That hesitation.

That fear of being caught.

And suddenly—Oscar wanted to break something.

Karan exhaled. “I thought you moved on.”

Y/N stared at him. “What?” she said, barely above a whisper.

Oscar stayed perfectly still, his hands clenching into fists.

Karan sighed. “Y/N… it’s been months. I didn’t think you were serious about this. I didn’t think you’d actually…” He gestured vaguely. “Run away.”

Y/N froze completely.

The color drained from her face, her expression stuck between disbelief and devastation.

“Are you saying…” She swallowed. “Are you saying you don’t want me here?”

Karan hesitated. “It’s not that—”

“Then what is it?” she cut in, voice suddenly sharp.

Silence.

Oscar’s chest was burning now.

Because he knew exactly what Karan was going to say.

And he hated him for it.

“Y/N…” Karan exhaled. “I’m seeing someone else.”

It was silent for exactly three seconds.

Then—

Y/N laughed.

A small, shaky laugh, like she thought this was some horrible joke.

But when she looked at Karan—when she really looked—her entire face fell apart.

Because he wasn’t lying.

This was real.

And for the first time since Oscar had met her, Y/N looked completely, utterly lost.

Like someone had ripped the ground out from under her feet.

Like she had just woken up from a dream and realized she was falling.

“I…” she whispered. “I left everything for you.”

Oscar’s fists tightened.

Because that was true, wasn’t it?

She had left her home. Her family. Herself.

All for this man.

This coward.

And suddenly, Oscar was furious.

Furious that she had wasted her love on someone like him.
Furious that she was hurting.
Furious that he couldn’t do a damn thing to stop it.

Karan sighed, rubbing his temple. “Y/N, you’re being dramatic—”

Oscar stepped forward immediately.

His voice was lethal. “Say that again.”

Karan hesitated.

Oscar took another calculated step, his expression cold, unforgiving. “Go ahead,” he said evenly. “Say that again.”

Karan swallowed hard.

Because suddenly, the quiet, composed man in the doorway looked dangerous.

Y/N turned her head slightly, like she had just noticed Oscar for the first time.

Like she had forgotten he was still here.

Her lips parted slightly, her eyes wide—

And for the briefest second, Oscar wondered if she realized.

If she understood why he was so angry.

Why this hurt him too.

Karan took a step back, glancing between them. “I think you should go.”

Y/N let out a short, breathless laugh.

Then—before anyone could say anything else—she turned on her heel and walked straight past Oscar.

He followed immediately, without hesitation.

Because of course he did.

Because he was the only one left to pick up the pieces.

And God help him, but he would always follow her.

🪻🪻🪻

Y/N walked.

She didn’t run.
She didn’t cry.
She just… walked.

Out of the house.
Down the empty road.
Away from the life she had convinced herself was waiting for her.

Oscar followed.

Not because he had to.
Not because he had any obligation to.

But because he couldn’t not.

She was silent—eerily so. No laughter, no sarcastic remarks, no teasing insults thrown his way.

Just… silence.

It made something in Oscar’s chest ache.

They reached a small clearing by the side of the road, where a few stone benches sat beneath an old banyan tree. Y/N slowed down, her steps faltering.

Then, without a word, she dropped onto one of the benches, hugging her knees to her chest.

Oscar stopped a few feet away, watching her carefully.

She stared ahead, her face blank, her hands gripping her legs tightly.

And Oscar hated it.

He hated seeing her like this—so still, so quiet, so… not Y/N.

After a long moment, she spoke.

“I was going to marry him.”

Oscar exhaled slowly, stepping forward. “I know.”

“I really thought…” She trailed off, laughing bitterly. “I thought he loved me. I thought I was running to my happy ending.”

Oscar clenched his jaw. “He’s an idiot.”

She let out another hollow laugh, resting her chin on her knees. “No. I’m the idiot.”

Oscar hated how small her voice sounded.

He moved to sit beside her, keeping a careful distance. “Y/N…”

She shook her head, cutting him off. “I don’t get it,” she whispered, her fingers digging into the fabric of her pants. “What did I do wrong?”

Oscar felt something twist violently in his chest.

He turned his head, looking at her fully. “Nothing.”

She finally looked at him, her eyes shining under the streetlights. “Then why wasn’t I enough?”

Oscar inhaled sharply.

And suddenly, he wanted to kill Karan.

Because how dare he make Y/N feel this way?

How dare he make her—Y/N, the girl who had spent the last few days turning Oscar’s entire life inside out—feel like she wasn’t worth choosing?

Oscar had no idea what to say.

But before he could even attempt to answer, Y/N shook her head again, forcing a small, weak smile. “It’s fine. I’ll get over it.”

Oscar frowned. “You don’t have to pretend you’re okay.”

She scoffed, wiping at her face. “Oh, come on. You think this is the first time I’ve made a fool of myself over a guy?”

Oscar hated the way she said that.

Like she wasn’t worth more.

Like she hadn’t spent the last few days turning his entire world upside down without even trying.

Like she had any idea how dangerously fast Oscar was falling for her.

He exhaled, forcing himself to stay calm. “You weren’t a fool, Y/N.”

She let out another empty laugh. “Sure feels like it.”

Oscar turned fully to face her now, serious. “No, listen to me. You didn’t do anything wrong. He did. You gave him your heart, and he was too much of a coward to take care of it.”

Y/N’s breath hitched slightly, like she wasn’t expecting him to say that.

Oscar wasn’t expecting it either.

Because he wasn’t just angry for her.

He was angry because he knew—he knew—that if it had been him instead of Karan, he never would have let her go.

And that thought?

That thought terrified him.

Y/N let out a slow breath, looking down at her hands.

Then, suddenly—

She wiped her eyes, stood up, and stretched dramatically.

“Alright!” she declared, her voice unnaturally cheerful. “Heartbreak over. What’s next?”

Oscar blinked. “What?”

She turned to him, **grinning—**except this time, it didn’t reach her eyes. “I mean, what do we do now? I didn’t come all this way just to mope.”

Oscar frowned. “Y/N, you don’t have to pretend—”

“I’m not pretending,” she said quickly. “I just… don’t wanna sit here and feel sorry for myself, you know?”

Oscar studied her carefully.

He knew she was lying.

He knew she was hurting.

But he also knew that forcing her to talk wouldn’t work.

Not yet.

So, instead, he exhaled slowly and stood up.

“Fine,” he said, brushing off his jeans. “Let’s get out of here.”

Her smile softened slightly, looking almost real this time. “Yeah?”

Oscar smiled back. “Yeah.”

And just like that, they started walking again.

Back into the night.

🪻🪻🪻

They walked.

The air was cold in the hills, thick with the smell of damp earth and coffee plantations. The road stretched endlessly ahead of them, winding down the valley, empty and silent—just like Y/N.

Oscar kept glancing at her.

She wasn’t crying.
She wasn’t saying anything at all.

And that… that bothered him.

Because this was Y/N—the girl who talked nonstop, who laughed at her own jokes, who filled every silence with nonsense just for the sake of it.

And now?

Now she was just quiet.

And Oscar hated it.

After nearly an hour of walking, Y/N finally spoke.

“Where are we going?”

Oscar let out a breath, relieved that she had said something at all. “Now you ask?”

She shrugged, stuffing her hands into her pockets. “I just figured you had a plan.”

He scoffed. “That’s your thing, remember?”

She hummed, tilting her head up to the sky. The stars were brighter here, away from the city. It made everything feel… unreal.

“So,” she said, voice lighter than it should be, “where do heartbroken runaways go after their grand escape fails?”

Oscar glanced at her. “Is that what we are now?”

She grinned. “What, you don’t consider yourself a runaway?”

Oscar didn’t answer immediately.

Because, truthfully?

He hadn’t thought about what he was running from.

He had spent so much time following her, caught up in her chaos, that he hadn’t stopped to consider where he was supposed to be.

Not at his company.
Not at home.
Not… here.

So where?

Y/N must have noticed the hesitation, because she nudged him lightly. “See? Runaway.”

Oscar sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Fine. So where do runaways go?”

Y/N hummed, thinking. “We could go back to my house.”

Oscar raised an eyebrow. “You mean back to your entire family, who currently think we’re engaged?”

She winced. “Okay, maybe not that.”

“Maybe?”

“Shut up.”

Oscar smirked slightly, but the moment was too brief. Y/N kicked at a rock on the road, her smile fading again.

“I really thought he’d be waiting for me,” she muttered.

Oscar tensed.

Because, for a brief, pathetic second, he had almost believed it too.

Believed that she would run into Karan’s arms and find what she was looking for.

That she would finally be happy.

And that Oscar would have to watch it happen.

But it hadn’t happened.

And instead, she was here.

Beside him.

Heartbroken.

And Oscar still didn’t know what to do with that.

Y/N sighed, shaking her head. “I don’t even know what I was expecting. A fairytale?”

Oscar hesitated. Then, quietly, he said, “He never deserved you.”

She laughed softly, but there was no real amusement in it. “Yeah? Then who does?”

Oscar’s stomach twisted.

Because for half a second—just one, stupid, fleeting second—his mind answered for him.

Me.

Oscar clenched his jaw.

No.

No, no, no.

That wasn’t how this worked.

This wasn’t his story to claim.

This wasn’t his ending.

He forced himself to look at her, at the way she was staring ahead, her expression unreadable.

And before he could stop himself, before he could rethink it, he said—

“What if we don’t go back?”

Y/N blinked, turning to him. “Huh?”

Oscar swallowed. “What if we just… kept going?”

She frowned slightly, but there was curiosity in her eyes now. “Go where?”

“I don’t know.” He let out a breath. “Anywhere.”

Y/N studied him, tilting her head. “You’re serious?”

Oscar held her gaze. “Yeah.”

And the crazy part?

He actually meant it.

Because wasn’t that the whole point?

Wasn’t that why he had followed her in the first place?

Because running away with her was the first time in years that he had felt something real.

Y/N stared at him for a long moment.

Then, suddenly—

She smiled.

And this time, it actually reached her eyes.

“Okay,” she said.

Oscar exhaled, his chest loosening for the first time all night.

“Okay,” he echoed.

And just like that—

They kept walking.

No destination.
No plan.
No idea what came next.

Just the road ahead of them.

And the one person Oscar was terrified to admit he didn’t want to let go of.

🪻🪻🪻

Two days after they left Coorg, they ended up on a train to nowhere.

Y/N sat by the window, her forehead resting against the glass, watching the world blur past them.

Oscar sat beside her, arms crossed, pretending not to watch her.

At some point, she sighed. “You ever feel like you’re in a movie?”

Oscar huffed a small laugh. “Every day since I met you.”

She grinned, but it was softer than usual.

“I mean it,” she murmured, tracing patterns against the fogged-up window. “Everything feels… different now.”

Oscar hesitated. “Different how?”

She turned to him, eyes brighter than usual.

“I don’t miss him.”

Oscar stilled.

For the first time since this entire mess started, she finally said it.

“I thought I would,” she continued, voice thoughtful. “I thought it would hurt more. But instead… I just feel light.”

Oscar exhaled slowly. “That’s a good thing, Y/N.”

She nodded, her smile growing.

And Oscar?

Oscar couldn’t help but stare.

Because she looked…

Happy.

And it hit him—hard and fast and all at once.

He liked her.

Maybe more than he should.

Maybe more than he could.

And maybe—just maybe—

He was already too far gone.

🪻🪻🪻

They stopped in a small town one night, staying at a rundown inn that Y/N swore was charming.

Oscar, however, was too distracted.

Because Y/N had disappeared.

Not disappeared, exactly—more like vanished without telling him where she was going.

At midnight.

In an unknown place.

Oscar was losing his mind.

Then—finally—

She appeared.

Walking through the door, a plastic bag in her hand, completely oblivious to his panic.

He whipped around immediately. “Where the hell were you?!”

She blinked. “Buying snacks.”

Oscar’s eye twitched.

“Alone?”

She grinned. “Yeah. Why?”

Oscar exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You cannot just disappear in the middle of the night—”

She cut him off by shoving a chocolate bar against his chest.

Oscar frowned. “What—”

“I got you one,” she said simply, plopping down on the bed. “Stop being mad.”

Oscar stared at the chocolate.

Then at her.

Then back at the chocolate.

And for the first time in days, he smiled.

A real, unfiltered, amused smile.

Y/N froze immediately.

Then she gasped dramatically, pointing at him. “Oh my god.”

Oscar frowned. “What?”

She leaned closer, squinting at his face. “You’re smiling.”

Oscar rolled his eyes, unwrapping the chocolate. “Shut up.”

“No, no, no, wait!” She grabbed his face, squishing his cheeks. “I’ve never seen this before.”

Oscar swatted her hands away, biting back a laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”

She grinned mischievously. “I knew you had a face under all that brooding.”

Oscar sighed, shaking his head. “And I regret showing it to you.”

Y/N just laughed.

And Oscar?

Oscar wasn’t sure he regretted it at all.

🪻🪻🪻

A week later, they ended up in a quiet temple on a hilltop.

It wasn’t planned.

They were just wandering, like they always were.

Y/N wasn’t particularly religious, but she had insisted they stop.

“I just like the peace,” she had said.

So there they were.

Standing before the flickering oil lamps, surrounded by the scent of incense and marigolds.

Y/N closed her eyes, hands pressed together in a silent prayer.

Oscar?

Oscar didn’t know what to do.

So he just… watched her.

The way the candlelight caught in her hair.
The way she stood so still, so different from her usual restless energy.
The way her expression softened, like she had finally let go of something.

And then, suddenly—

She opened her eyes and caught him staring.

Oscar panicked immediately, looking away too fast.

But it was too late.

She grinned knowingly.

“Did you just pray for me?” she teased.

Oscar scoffed. “Not everything is about you.”

She bumped his arm. “What did you ask for?”

Oscar sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Not to fall any harder for you than I already have.

But instead, he just said—

“I wished for some peace and quiet.”

Y/N laughed.

“Sorry, Osc,” she said, linking her arm through his.

“You’re stuck with me.”

She sighed happily, turning her head toward him.

“You ever think about what comes next?”

Oscar frowned. “Next?”

“You know,” she said, waving her hand vaguely. “After all of this.”

Oscar hesitated.

Because, truthfully?

He hadn’t thought about it.

Because the second he thought about it, he would have to admit—

That eventually, they would go their separate ways.

And Oscar didn’t want to think about that.

Instead, he asked, “What about you?”

Y/N was quiet for a long moment.

Then, softly, she said—

“I think I’m already where I need to be.”

Oscar’s chest tightened painfully.

Because she was looking at him when she said it.

And for a brief, reckless second, he wanted to ask—

Are you talking about me?

But he didn’t.

Because if he asked—

And if she said yes—

Oscar wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to let her go.

And that?

That was too dangerous to risk.

So instead, he just smiled.

🪻🪻🪻

The rain came fast and unforgiving.

One moment, they were walking side by side, Y/N rambling about something ridiculous, Oscar half-listening, half-distracted by the way she waved her hands when she talked.

The next—the skies cracked open.

A downpour.

Y/N yelped, grabbing his arm. “Oscar! Shelter! Now!”

Oscar reacted instantly, tugging off his jacket and pulling it over both of their heads, dragging her toward the nearest building—a closed roadside stall with a rickety tin roof.

They pressed themselves against the wall, huddled under the jacket, rain hammering down around them, drenching everything in sight.

Oscar exhaled, running a hand through his already wet hair. “Of course it had to rain today.”

Y/N, breathless from running, grinned up at him. “Come on, rich boy. What’s life without a little drama?”

Oscar glanced down at her, and—

God.

She was so close.

The jacket barely covered them, forcing them to stand shoulder to shoulder, chest to chest, their faces just inches apart.

Oscar could feel her breath against his jaw, her fingers clutching the edge of the jacket, her damp hair sticking to her cheeks.

And suddenly, the rain wasn’t the only storm here.

Because in that tiny, confined space, with her pressed up against him, looking up at him with those wide, reckless eyes—

Oscar forgot how to breathe.

She was talking, still teasing him about something, but he couldn’t hear a damn word.

All he could hear was his own heartbeat.

Loud. Relentless. Impossible to ignore.

And from the way Y/N’s fingers tightened around the fabric of his shirt, from the way her breath hitched just slightly—

He wasn’t the only one feeling it.

She felt it too.

The air changed, the laughter between them fading into something else, something heavier, something dangerous.

Oscar swallowed hard.

This was bad.

Because if he didn’t move—
If he didn’t step away, if he didn’t break whatever this was—

He was going to do something really, really stupid.

Like cup her face.
Or brush that damn strand of hair away from her cheek.
Or—god forbid—kiss her.

But then—

Y/N moved first.

Her fingers loosely curled around the fabric of his shirt, tugging him the slightest bit closer.

And Oscar?

Oscar didn’t stop her.

Didn’t move away.

Didn’t breathe.

Because she was looking at him like she was figuring something out.

Like she was realizing something she wasn’t ready to admit yet.

And Oscar?

Oscar had known for weeks now.

Her gaze flickered down—to his lips.

And Oscar was done for.

His fingers twitched, almost reaching for her, almost—

A loud voice broke through the moment.

“Hey, what are you two doing?!”

Oscar snapped out of it immediately, stepping back so fast he almost hit his head against the wall.

Y/N jumped, eyes wide, as they both turned toward the source of the interruption—

An old shopkeeper, standing a few feet away, staring at them like they were caught committing a crime.

Oscar cleared his throat aggressively, putting even more distance between them.

“Nothing,” he said, voice too sharp, too rushed.

Y/N blinked rapidly, as if trying to pull herself out of whatever spell they had been under.

Then—she let out a breathless laugh, shaking her head. “Yeah, nothing! Just… avoiding the rain.”

The old man narrowed his eyes suspiciously, muttering something under his breath before walking away.

The moment he was gone, Oscar let out a slow exhale, running a hand down his face.

That was too close.

Way, way too close.

He risked a glance at Y/N, half-expecting her to tease him, make a joke, pretend like nothing happened.

But instead, she just stood there, staring at the rain, her hands tucked into her sleeves, lips pressed together.

Quiet.

Like she was still thinking about it.

And Oscar?

Oscar didn’t dare ask what was on her mind.

Because if he did—

If she said what he thought she might—

He wasn’t sure he’d be able to walk away this time.

🪻🪻🪻

They had been on the road for weeks.

Days blurred into each other—long car rides, small towns, fleeting moments that felt too big and too small at the same time.

Oscar wasn’t sure what they were looking for anymore.

At first, they had been running to something.

Now, it felt like they were just running away.

But one evening, as they sat by the banks of a quiet river in a town whose name they had already forgotten, Oscar suddenly spoke—

“I think it’s time to go home.”

Y/N stilled.

Because she had been waiting for this.

Waiting for the moment he would finally stop letting her pretend she was okay.

Because she wasn’t okay.

She hadn’t been okay since Karan.

And even though she still smiled, still talked too much, still dragged him into ridiculous situations—

Something in her had dimmed.

And Oscar hated it.

But he didn’t say that.

Instead, she simply nodded. “Okay.”

Silence.

Then Y/N exhaled, looking out at the water. “You don’t think my parents will kill me?”

Oscar smirked. “Your father? Definitely.”

She giggled softly, nudging his arm. “Thanks for the encouragement.”

Oscar looked at her for a long moment.

Then, quietly, he asked—

“Do you regret it?”

Y/N frowned. “Regret what?”

“All of it,” he said, watching her carefully. “Running away. Coming all this way. Finding out… that he wasn’t waiting for you.”

Y/N was silent for a long time.

Then, finally, she said—

“No.”

Oscar wasn’t expecting that.

She sighed, hugging her knees. “I mean, it hurts. And yeah, it was humiliating. But… I think I needed it.”

Oscar tilted his head. “How?”

Y/N smiled tiredly. “Because now I know.”

Oscar frowned. “Know what?”

She turned to him, eyes softer than he had ever seen them.

“That I was never supposed to end up with him.”

Oscar’s chest tightened painfully.

Because for some stupid reason, he wanted to ask—

Then who are you supposed to end up with?

But he didn’t.

Instead, he forced a smirk, leaning back on his palms. “Well, at least you still have me.”

He almost hesitated, before placing one of his hands over Y/N’s.

She grinned. “What would I do without you?”

And Oscar had no idea.

Because for the first time, he wasn’t sure where she ended and he began.

And that terrified him.

just writing the slow burn in this had me giggling. but not to worry everyone i’m super impatient and will definitely have something happen soon TRUST ME 😚😚

[thenightling]

Someone finally asked me the golden question. How would I have handled Universal's Dark Universe.

Disclaimer: If someone sees this and likes my ideas, you may use them for free. No consultation or acknowledgement required. Just do justice to my boo boys.

Well, I would stop so blatantly trying to make it the MCU. It's not the MCU. And don't be afraid of a little camp. These are the classic monsters after all.

Time period. Start in the past and then WORK your way to the present. Don't force all of it to be set in the present from the get go. Let the audience feel and understand these are immortal beings. You can even make it a surreal, timeless, fairy tale-like setting that just resembles the nineteenth century. Most people use generic medieval for fantasy settings but Gaslamp fantasy is a thing.

2. Start with the most well-known of the monsters. Do Dracula. It can be a book faithful adaptation, or something along the lines of Bela Lugosi or Frank Langella. I think general audiences like Dracula to be fierce and predatory but also somewhat romantic, that's why the Mina / Dracula romance has endured even though it deviates heavily from the novel. So let Dracula be romantic but do something unexpected and fresh with it.

Honestly I'd love an adaptation of Fred Saberhagen's The Dracula Tape (Dracula retold from Dracula's point of view). But I know they'd want to stick with the public domain version.

Let Dracula have his literary powers to take wolf, bat, and mist form, and conjure storms. Let him be able to walk by day but not able to shapeshift by day. Bela Lugosi's version didn't actually burn in the sun until the sequels anyway and that was only from mimicking Nosferatu (1922).

Either leave out the reincarnated wife concept all together or let the reincarnation be someone other than Mina. Dr. Van Helsing (a male or female version) or even Jonathan Harker could make for an interesting twist. Lots of depictions of Dracula are bisexual now and this would be something fresh for the universal version.

3. When doing Frankenstein stop trying to recreate the Karloff version "for modern audiences." Let's try the literary version for a change. Long black hair, no neck-bolts or green skin, let him be articulate. And don't go for "steampunk action figure. " (I'm looking at you, Van Helsing.)

Let each classic monster have their own setting and time period. Dracula gets 1891 since that's when his novel takes place, unless you do a fifteenth century origin or fifteenth century flashbacks in the nineteenth century. Frankenstein is late eighteenth century or very early nineteenth century.

You can get more free with the concept if you do a Frankenstein sequel. Think 1985's The Bride but the male creature is intelligent and articulate too.

4. With Wolfman go old school. Practical effects in the style of Rick Baker. Get Guerrero del Toro involved with these somehow. That man knows how to handle classic monsters. Remember the rules, and acknowledge that he's mostly immortal and can regenerate. Everyone forgets this.

5. Have Danny Elfman do the music. I know he's already doing the Dark Universe park music but let him do ALL the music. Trust the man. Have you heard his score to Sleepy Hollow? Just let him do his thing.

6. Don't treat each film like a commercial for the next or hinted team up. Just let the films be able to stand on their own at first. That's how the Uniersal Monster movies started originally. You can let one or two characters turn up in multiple films but don't be ham fisted about it like with some of what was in 2017's The Mummy.

7. When you finally do allow the team up go watch the Asylum's Monster Mash (2024) first.

I'm serious. Hell, buy the movie from The Asylum to do a high budget remake but add about twenty minutes to it so The Creature from the Black Lagoon can be added too. It's cheesy but its fun. Let them be dysfunctional would-be heroes. Let have What we do in the Shadows-like moments without being too cynical and insulting and mocking the very idea.

By this point you already made the monsters scary but with some potential for redemption, compassion, and tenderness. Let them organically evolve from brooding villains and anti-heroes to surprisingly competent heroes but let it happen organically.

You can even get organic diversity. The mummy is from Egypt (North Africa), the witch is Roma (and possibly a previous lover of Dracula's daughter), The Creature from the Black Lagoon is from South America, etc. Again, get Guillermo del Toro involved. The Shape of Water was pretty much Creature from the Black Lagoon with a happy ending for The Creature anyway. An Abe Sapien-esque version of The Creature from the Black Lagoon would be great.

I forgot to say who the main antagonist would be in my version of The Dark Universe. Possibly a mad scientist like Doctor Moreau, Doctor Pretorius, or a faction of vampires who want to dethrone Dracula from his self-appointed title as king of the vampires. There's nothing in Stoker's novel or the Universal movies that claim he's the first vampire but he's commonly depicted as king of the vampires simply because no one had thought to unite and lead all of them until him.

[themculibrary]

Family Masterlist

A Little Bit of Mischief (ao3) - asgardianavenger M, 59k

Summary: Loki's kids were monsters. Odin made sure that nobody knew that. A curse was put in place but since Odin's passing, the curse has been lifted. Two of the four children would stop at nothing until they find their younger siblings and make things right. (During Thor Ragnarok)

And All the Vegetables Too (ao3) - Chiauve G, 3k

Summary: At first, Frigga paid little mind. Afterall, boys grew at different rates. It wasn't until Loki was a good head taller than his elder brother that she began to worry.

Bouncing Baby Sniper (ao3) - vain_glorious clint/natasha, peggy/steve T, 5k

Summary: Clint Barton is Peggy Carter's grandson.

Congratulations, It's a (Spider) Boy (ao3) - tony_starked pepper/tony T, 6k

Summary: When Maya Hansen shows up at Tony’s mansion over a decade since they last met, she isn’t exactly lying about that thirteen-year-old kid in the car.

Don't Touch A Pregnant Man's Snack (ao3) - catnip_coffee steve/bucky T, 4k

Summary: Bucky's learned to let go of things that he's particular about. Except for his late night cravings. Those are not something to be messed with or forgotten. Especially when it comes to Steve's stubborn baby.

Even a Miracle Needs a Hand (ao3) - victoria_p (musesfool) clint/darcy G, 11k

Summary: When Darcy takes Clint home for the holidays as her fake boyfriend, he charms his way into the family, and into her pants heart.

"Have you ever gave yourself you time to suffer?" (ao3) - lonieine T, 4k

Summary: Peter has lost a lot of people, but he never really gave himself time to process that pain, and that has consequences.

him without his dad (ao3) - iron_spider T, 3k

Summary: Peter wakes up before his alarm goes off because the door slams open. He was in a dream somewhere but it disappears as soon as the door opens because Happy is rushing in and grabbing him up.

“Wait wait wait,” Peter says, feeling dizzy and sleepy as he reaches down and grabs the phone from the charger. He doesn’t remember plugging it in, and he guesses someone else did that for him. “What’s wrong? What’s wrong?”

Happy doesn’t say anything and just holds onto him, carrying him out of the room.

“Happy!” Pepper’s voice yells, and she’s there in the hallway and her face is all red and Peter is starting to get scared. “We—we don’t think there’s any threat to him—”

If One Be Gone, We Carry On (ao3) - the_sentient_duck G, 4k

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Ikaris and the Dumpster Flerken (ao3) - Sternenstaub_Orca ikaris/sersi, druig/makkari, gilgamesh/thena, phastos/ben G, 49k

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A bit of chaos ensures.

I'll Call Your Mom (ao3) - SkyeRomonoff N/R, 11k

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Summary: Loki's left his dysfunctional family life behind, or so he thinks. Then his little brother Thor shows up on his doorstep, badly injured and Loki ends up taking responsibility for his little brother to raise him properly and hopefully give him a better future than he otherwise would have had.

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Summary: A purely self-indulgent fic about Agatha and the coven learning how to work through their trauma even if they tend to get on each other's nerves.

Never or Forever (I can’t remember) (ao3) - That_other_koi N/R, 8k

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Paper Planes & Playground Games (ao3) - Barkour loki/sif G, 14k

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OR: Agatha and Rio take in a young Wanda in and do everything to help her heal from the layers of trauma she has endured in her life. Slices of life, established relationship and found family.

these things, they were promises (ao3) - Mira_Jade frigga/odin G, 4k

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Sam tries to find his footing.

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Summary: When her husband presents the babe to her, Frigga's first thought is He doesn't look like a Frost Giant.

[niallerspayno]

Between the Lines - Chapter Four

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

…

The faint morning light filters through the heavy hotel curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. You stir, nestled in the comfort of Niall’s arms, his slow, even breaths brushing against your hair. It takes you a moment to remember where you are—last night’s apology, the quiet words exchanged, and the unspoken solace of being wrapped in his familiar embrace.

As you shift, Niall stirs, his grip on you loosening. His eyes flutter open, still heavy with sleep, and a small, sleepy smile spreads across his face.

“Morning,” he mumbles, his voice warm and gravelly.

“Morning,” you reply, sitting up and stretching. “Didn’t mean to hog the bed.”

“Didn’t mind,” he says softly, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than usual.

You smile at him, but before the quiet moment can stretch further, there’s a sharp knock on the door.

“Oi, lovebirds! Bus leaves in thirty! Move it!” Louis’ voice carries through the door, followed by a mischievous laugh.

You groan, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. “Guess it’s time to face the chaos again.”

Niall watches you for a beat before nodding. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

…

The lobby is buzzing with activity as the boys gather their things. Coffee cups are passed around, suitcases are hauled, and the general atmosphere is a blend of sleep deprivation and excitement. Louis and Niall are already squabbling over who gets the better bunk, while Liam tries to mediate with his usual calm logic.

You hang back for a moment, your notebook in hand, jotting down observations. It’s fascinating how each of them fits into this whirlwind of a lifestyle—Niall’s laid-back charm, Louis’ uncontainable energy, Liam’s steady hand, Zayn’s quiet focus.

As you cap your pen, you feel a presence beside you. “They’re something, aren’t they?”

You glance up to find Harry, his curls slightly disheveled, a coffee cup in hand. He’s watching the scene with a small, knowing smile.

“They are,” you agree. “A bit overwhelming, if I’m honest.”

Harry chuckles, his dimples appearing. “It’s a lot to take in at first, but you get used to it. We’re like a circus, really—a loud, dysfunctional circus.”

You laugh, the tension in your shoulders easing. “And what about you? What’s your role in the circus?”

He grins, taking a sip of his coffee. “I like to think of myself as the calming presence. You know, the eye of the storm.”

You raise an eyebrow. “I’m not sure I’d call you calm.”

“Fair,” he admits, his grin widening. “But seriously, it’s nice having you here. Niall’s talked about you for years. It’s good to finally put a face to the name.”

“He has?” you ask, surprised.

“All the time,” Harry says easily. “You’re practically a legend in our group chats.”

You feel your cheeks warm at the thought, but before you can respond, Zayn walks up, his phone in hand, and nods toward you.

“Hey,” he says, his tone soft but warm. “Wanted to say thanks for the notes you gave me yesterday. Helped me fix that section I was struggling with.”

“You’re welcome,” you say, genuinely touched. “It sounded great during soundcheck.”

“Cheers,” Zayn says with a small smile before heading back toward the group, where Louis is now perched dramatically on a suitcase.

Harry chuckles beside you. “Don’t mind him. He’s not much for small talk, but he’s a good guy.”

“I can tell,” you reply, watching as Zayn calmly retrieves his luggage while ignoring Louis’ antics.

Before you can say more, Louis bounds over, throwing an arm around Harry’s shoulders.

“What’s all this, then?” Louis teases, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’re not trying to steal her away, are you, Styles?”

Harry smirks, holding up his coffee cup as if in surrender. “Just getting to know her, mate. No harm in that.”

Louis winks at you. “Careful with this one. He’s got a way of charming people when you least expect it.”

You roll your eyes but smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

The call for boarding the bus interrupts the moment, and Harry gives you a parting nod. As you follow the boys outside, the brisk morning air hits your face, and you take a deep breath, ready for whatever the day brings.

But as you climb onto the bus, you can’t help but glance back at Harry and Zayn. There’s something grounding about Harry’s quiet confidence and Zayn’s understated warmth that makes you feel like you’re finally starting to belong.

…

The next venue is even larger than the last, its cavernous interior buzzing with the hum of crew members setting up for soundcheck. You try to absorb the details for your notes—the sharp scent of freshly cleaned floors, the distant echo of voices as the stage takes shape. The boys scatter to their usual pre-soundcheck routines, and you find yourself wandering toward the edge of the stage, your notebook clutched in your hand.

“Lost in thought again?”

You turn at the familiar voice to see Louis leaning against a nearby speaker, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. His hair is slightly tousled, and his blue eyes glint under the bright stage lights.

“Not lost,” you say, raising an eyebrow. “Just focused. Something you might want to try sometime.”

He feigns offense, clutching his chest. “Focused? Love, I’m the picture of focus.”

“Right,” you drawl, closing your notebook. “And all that flirting you do—what’s that? Focused on distraction?”

Louis straightens, his grin widening as he steps closer. “Distraction, is it? Didn’t realize I was having such an effect on you.”

You roll your eyes but don’t step back as he closes the distance between you. “I’m serious, Louis. Why do you always flirt and joke but never… I don’t know, take any of it seriously?”

His grin falters for a moment, replaced by something softer, something unspoken. “Maybe I just like seeing you smile,” he says, his voice quieter now. “Maybe I like keeping things light because I’m not sure you’d want anything more.”

The weight of his words catches you off guard, but you refuse to let him off the hook so easily. “And what if I did?”

The challenge hangs in the air between you, and for a heartbeat, Louis doesn’t move. Then, with a swiftness that leaves you breathless, he steps even closer, his hands lightly brushing your waist.

“Well,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, “guess there’s only one way to find out.”

Before you can respond, his lips capture yours in a kiss that’s both unexpected and electric. It’s not hesitant or playful like you might have imagined—it’s intense, pulling you into the moment like a tide sweeping you under.

For a second, you’re too stunned to react, but then your hands find their way to his shoulders, steadying yourself as your heartbeat pounds in your ears. The warmth of his touch, the way his lips move against yours—it’s intoxicating.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests lightly against yours, and his eyes search yours, a flicker of uncertainty in their depths.

“Well?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. “Did I just ruin everything, or…?”

You swallow, your thoughts a whirlwind. “I… I don’t know,” you admit honestly, your voice trembling. “But I think I liked it.”

His grin returns, slow and wicked. “Think, huh? Guess I’ll just have to keep trying until you’re sure.”

You laugh despite yourself, shoving lightly at his chest. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it,” he quips, stepping back just as the sound of Niall’s voice echoes from the stage.

“Where’s the princess of chaos? Soundcheck’s starting!”

Your heart clenches at the thought of Niall, but before you can dwell on it, Louis winks at you. “Go on, love. Wouldn’t want to keep Niall waiting.”

As you walk back toward the others, your lips still tingling from the kiss, you can’t help but glance over your shoulder. Louis is watching you, that same cocky grin on his face, but there’s something else in his eyes now—something deeper.

You don’t know what it means yet, but one thing’s for sure: nothing between you and Louis—or Niall—will ever be the same.

…

The kiss is like a constant hum in the back of your mind, distracting you as you try to focus on your writing. You can still feel the lingering heat of it, the way Louis’ lips were soft against yours, the intensity of it all. The memory keeps replaying, making it impossible to concentrate on anything else.

As you sit backstage, notebook in hand, your mind refuses to focus on the words in front of you. You’re trying your best to work, but every time you look at the page, all you can see is Louis’ smirk and the way he pulled away, his gaze mischievous as if daring you to acknowledge what had just happened.

You glance up to see Louis standing nearby, watching you closely. His grin is as wide as ever, and you can’t help but feel a flush creeping up your neck.

“So,” Louis says, walking over and leaning casually against a nearby table, “you planning on writing about our little… performance earlier?” His voice is light, teasing, but there’s an unmistakable challenge behind his words.

You swallow hard, trying to shake the thoughts away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumble, though you can feel your cheeks heating up.

Louis steps closer, clearly enjoying the effect he’s having on you. “Come on, love. You’re telling me you didn’t feel that?”

You stare at him, your heart thudding in your chest. You want to say something, anything, to make him stop, but the words won’t come. Instead, you look down at your notebook, hoping the distraction will give you something to focus on.

The tension is thick in the air, and it doesn’t help when you hear a voice from behind you.

“What the hell, Louis?” Niall’s voice is sharp, the anger barely masked. You turn to see him standing just a few feet away, his jaw tight, his fists clenched at his sides. His eyes flicker between you and Louis, and you can see the hurt in them—the kind of hurt that makes your stomach drop.

Louis straightens up, clearly unfazed. “Relax, Horan. We were just talking.”

“You kissed her,” Niall spits out, his voice tight with restraint. “Don’t act like that’s nothing.”

Your heart stutters at the realization that the kiss is now out in the open. It wasn’t just a moment—it’s something real, something tangible that both of them will have to deal with now.

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” Louis says with a lazy shrug, his smirk never fading. “But if she’s going to act all flustered, then maybe I should do it again.”

The words hit you like a ton of bricks. You feel the heat rising in your cheeks again, your heart racing. Niall’s expression hardens, and you can see the hurt and jealousy in his eyes. It’s impossible to ignore.

“Louis, seriously,” Niall growls, stepping closer to you and placing himself between you and Louis. “I don’t think she needs any more of your ‘help.’”

Louis, clearly enjoying the tension, just grins wider. “Horan, I’m just trying to make things interesting.” He winks at you. “You know how I do.”

You feel a knot forming in your stomach. This isn’t what you wanted. You didn’t ask for this. And now, with Niall standing protectively in front of you and Louis looking at you like you’re some kind of prize to be won, you’re more confused than ever.

“Niall,” you finally manage, your voice quiet but firm. “You don’t have to do this.”

Niall turns to you, his gaze softening for a moment before the tension in his face returns. “I just don’t like seeing him mess with you,” he admits, his voice low. “You deserve better than that.”

Your heart lurches, and you can feel the weight of his words settling on your chest. But before you can say anything, Louis steps in again.

“Better? Maybe she likes a little chaos in her life,” Louis says, his tone a playful jab that only seems to irritate Niall further. “You can’t protect her from that, Horan.”

Niall’s jaw clenches as he steps even closer, and you know this is about to get out of hand if you don’t stop it. “Louis, knock it off,” you say firmly, your voice stronger than you feel. “I’m not some game. You don’t get to do this just because you’re bored or looking for attention.”

Louis pauses, raising his eyebrows in surprise at your tone. For a second, you wonder if you’ve gone too far, but then he nods, his grin never leaving his face. “Fine, fine,” he says, backing off a bit. “But don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy it.” He gives you one last wink before turning away, his confidence unwavering.

You turn to Niall, your heart in your throat. The moment between the two of you is heavy, and you can see the hurt in his eyes. It hits you then—Niall’s not just protective of you. He’s not just your best friend. He’s… something more. And he’s been that way for a long time.

“Niall,” you say softly, reaching out to touch his arm. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like this. I just—”

He cuts you off, his voice quiet but firm. “You don’t have to explain. I’m just… trying to figure out what I’m supposed to do with all of this.” His eyes flicker toward Louis, who’s now talking with Liam and Zayn, and you see the frustration in his expression.

There’s a long, uncomfortable silence before Niall sighs and looks back at you. “I just care about you, you know? More than you probably realize.”

Your stomach flips at the weight of his words. You wish you could make sense of it all—of how everything’s shifted, and how you’ve found yourself caught between Niall’s quiet devotion and Louis’ wild charm.

Before you can answer, the rest of the boys return, Liam looking between you and Niall, sensing the tension in the air. Zayn is quiet, watching with a raised eyebrow. Harry is the first to speak, his voice light but knowing.

“Everything alright here?” he asks, glancing from Niall to Louis and back.

Niall opens his mouth to respond but then stops, his gaze meeting yours. For a moment, the air feels thick with unspoken words. You feel like you’re on the verge of a breakthrough—or a breakdown.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you say, more to reassure Niall than anyone else. “Just… need to focus, okay?”

The room goes quiet as the boys exchange looks, but no one pushes further. For now, it’s enough to let the silence hang in the air. But you know things won’t stay this way for long. Not when the tension is this thick between you, Niall, and Louis.

And as you sit there, trying to pretend that everything is normal, you can’t help but feel like you’re standing at the edge of something you’re not ready for—but can’t avoid either.

…

The backstage area hums with the usual pre-show chaos. Crew members rush by, the sound of instruments being tuned fills the air, and the boys are getting ready for the show, each in their own routine. You’ve found a quiet corner, away from the commotion, trying to gather your thoughts as you scribble in your notebook. The events of the past few days are still swirling in your mind—the kiss with Louis, Niall’s overprotectiveness, and the strange tension between the three of you that you’ve yet to fully understand.

Just as you’re trying to focus, you hear voices nearby—Niall and Liam. Their conversation seems casual at first, nothing out of the ordinary. But as you listen more closely, you can sense something different in Niall’s tone. It’s heavier, more vulnerable than usual.

“I don’t know what to do anymore, Liam,” Niall says, his voice tight, almost like he’s struggling to hold it together. “I can’t stand seeing her with him. I don’t know how to handle this.”

You freeze, your breath catching in your throat. You weren’t expecting this. You’re tempted to leave, but something holds you back. You want to understand, to know what’s really going on in Niall’s head.

Liam’s voice is softer, trying to reassure Niall. “Mate, you have to talk to her. Don’t just sit back and let it eat you up.”

There’s a long pause before Niall speaks again, and when he does, his words carry a weight that takes you by surprise.

“I’m in love with her, Liam,” Niall admits, his voice cracking slightly. “Always have been. I’ve never told her because I didn’t want to risk our friendship. She’s the most important person in my life. I couldn’t stand the thought of losing her.”

You feel your heart race in your chest. Niall—Niall, your best friend, the one you’ve trusted more than anyone else—has been in love with you this entire time. You’ve always known he was protective, but you had no idea it went this deep.

There’s a slight hitch in your breath as Niall continues.

“But now, with Louis… I just feel like I’m losing her. And I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to compete with him, Liam. I never thought it would come to this. I’ve always kept my distance, tried to be the best friend I could, but it’s breaking me.”

You can hear the pain in his voice, and it tears at you, even as you stand there, paralyzed by the weight of his confession. Niall—always so lighthearted, so full of life—has been carrying this weight alone. The realization of how long he’s been in love with you hits harder than you ever expected.

Liam’s voice cuts through the tension. “You’ve got to tell her, mate. You can’t let her slip away without being honest with her. She deserves to know how you feel.”

“I don’t know if I can,” Niall admits, his voice barely a whisper. “What if she doesn’t feel the same? What if I tell her, and it ruins everything?”

You can almost picture the scene—Niall, pacing with frustration, his heart laid bare, while Liam tries to offer his support.

Another long pause. Then Liam’s words, calm and steady: “You’ll never know unless you try. But you’ve got to be honest with yourself first—and with her.”

You step back, your pulse pounding in your ears, not wanting to be discovered. This is too much. Niall’s confession is a bombshell, and you can hardly process it. You had no idea. None. All this time, while you thought you were just his best friend, he’s been harboring feelings for you that go beyond anything you could have imagined.

As you slowly step away, trying to collect your thoughts, your mind is racing with questions. How could you not have known? How does this change everything? And, more than anything—how do you feel about him?

You slip into the shadows, trying to hide the confusion and the sudden swirl of emotions taking over your chest. This wasn’t how you imagined this night would go. But one thing’s for sure—everything is different now.

…

Next chapter

[wangxianficfinder]

Famous

~*~

Pop and Prejudice by flowerofgusu  (E, 25k, WangXian, Modern AU, Popstar, Pining, Misunderstandings, popstar wwx and music critic lwj, Falling In Love, Pride and Prejudice References, Eventual Smut, Slow Burn, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, POV LWJ, LWJ Has Feelings, Pining LWJ, Famous WWX and Non-Famous LWJ, First Time, Light Angst, Soft WangXian)

The Fault in Our Stars by Vamillepudding (T, 17k, WangXian, Modern AU, Getting Together, Romantic Comedy, Comedy of Errors, Misunderstandings, the title makes it sound like a cancer story, it's not a cancer story)

The Shape of Your Love (is Horny) by Vamillepudding (T, 25k, WangXian, Modern AU, Urban Fantasy, Getting Together, Romantic Comedy, WWX is Bad at Being a Demon, LWJ is definitely a Monsterfucker)

your heartbeat, across the grass by fakeplasticlily (E, 44k, WangXian, Modern AU, Football, footballer!lwj, Mutual Pining, Fluff, Oblivious WWX, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Content, liberal use of romcom tropes, Childhood Friends, Kid Fic, this is not American football btw it’s what you guys call soccer)

live from new york an snl au by varnes (E, 105k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, This is a SNL AU, however the juniors are featured and there are lots of shenanigans!, slow burn, friends to lovers, pining, getting together, happy ending, accidental marriage, secret marriage)

🧡 I Don't Want to Debut! by countingcr0ws (G, 56k, WangXian, Modern AU, Reality show, Idols, Actor LWJ, Forced Contestant WWX, Tencent's 2021 Idol Producer)

❤️ Knight Hunt! Phoenix Mountain by travelingneuritis (E, 51k, wangxian, modern, dating show, Modern Cultivation, but in the silliest way possible, Reality TV, the juniors are interns, Smut, Illustrations, low-stakes pining)

Waiting for Spring by thievinghippo (E, 130k, WangXian, Modern AU, MLB AU, Baseball AU, Mutual Pining, Pining while fucking, slight angst, Happy Ending)

WeHateDogs by trippednfell (T, 3k, WangXian, Modern AU, Inspired by Twitter, Social Media AU, WWX is a professional dog hater, Fluff and Crack)

~*~

YouTuber

~*~

like, comment, share & subscribe by detectorist (T, 22k, WangXian, Modern AU, College AU, YouTube, Social Media, Flirting, Humour, Banter, Getting Together, First Kiss, Texting, Youtubers For Social Justice, YouTube Rivals to Lovers)

Obligations and indulgences by Winxhelina (T, 27k, WangXian, LWJ & NHS & WWX, Modern AU, College/University, Miscommunication, Pining, Humor, Misunderstandings, Explicit Language, Influencer NHS, Drinking, Drunk LWJ, First Kiss, Social Media, Texting, NHS meddiling)

Cloud Nine Series by mssdare (E, 86k, WangXian, Modern AU, YouTube, Depression, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Substance Abuse, Mental Health Issues, Mental Breakdown, Suicidal Thoughts, ASMR, youtuber LWJ, youtuber WWX, Social Media, Getting Together, getting better, Happy Ending, Intercrural Sex, Shower Sex, Sleepy Cuddles, Videoblogging, Sexual Dysfunction, Erectile Dysfunction, Medication, Touching, Anal Sex, Domestic Bliss, Nightmares, Cuddling & Snuggling, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, side effects of medication, Slow Pace)

🧡【那夏天的我們】a stroke of fate by puddingcatbeans (G, 59k, WangXian, Modern AU, Fluff, Slice of Life, Falling In Love, Summer, Barakamon AU, renowned musician lwj escapes to tiny village and falls in love with local farmer boy wwx, good times only, YouTuber WWX, Food)

simping for hanguang-jun by defractum (nyargles) (T, 6k, WangXian, Modern AU, YouTubers WangXian, Fluff, Among us game, Streamer AU)

🧡[restoration exercise - no talking] by spookykingdomstarlight (M, 18k, WangXian, Model WWX, ASMR YouTuber LWJ, Strangers to Lovers, Meet-Cute, Long-Distance Relationship, Identity Porn, Fluff, Light Angst, Loneliness, Yearning)

🧡a baby rabbit is called a kitten and other fun facts by aurora_chiroptera (G, 11k, WangXian, Modern AU, this is really a kid fic in a lot of ways hidden in a youtube/social media au, Mutual Pining, NHS uses they/them pronouns, JZX is a trans lesbian and uses she/her pronouns, Child LSZ, Long-Distance Relationship, (kinda?), Fluff, and bunnies, Soft WangXian, Good Parent WWX, Single Parent WWX, Getting to Know Each Other, Getting Together, Nonbinary NHS, LWJ Has Friends, set in the US)

i hear your name in the wind by meanderingroad (T, 20k, WangXian, Modern AU, POV Alternating, Social Media, vlogger!WWX, Pining, Misunderstandings, Texting, Light Angst, Happy Ending, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, WangXian.mp3, WWX talks about his feelings, Yunmeng trio bonding, Identity Porn)

episodes by kasunn (M, 34k, WangXian, Modern AU, Fluff, basically all fluff, Youtuber WWX, Social Media, Actor LXC, Artist JC, Chef JYL, Babysitting, lowkey kidfic, Surgeon LWJ, Canon typical feels, Taiwanese WWX, Copious amounts of Chinglish, pets!, Secret Relationship, kind of bad pet names, Established Relationship, LSZ is a wen)

rhythm after summer by callmeb6104 (T, 10k, wangxian, modern, youtuber WWX, single parent WWX, animaal keeper LWJ, fluff, LWJ in denial, family feels)

Winter Sun by brojorlas (M, 38k, wangxian, youtuber!WWX, pining, miscommunication)

Yoga With Wangji by rovi (G, 6k, WangXian, Modern AU, Mutual Pining, Getting Together, Yoga)

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Inflexible by yeaka (E, 3k, WangXian, Modern AU, PWP, Anal Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Established Relationship, Dominance, Dom/sub Undertones)

How to Draw Clouds, a Guide by Little Apple’s Emotional Support Human by sweetiejelly (M, 7k, wangxian, modern, youtube, pets, getting together, fluff & humor)

Dine Together by nagi_blue (G, 7k, WangXian, Modern AU)

Going Viral by Wishful_author_xoxo (G, 1k, WangXian, Modern AU, Fluff and Crack, Protective LWJ, BAMF WWX, Grocery Shopping, Crack Treated Seriously, Disney References) - actually tiktok

[kjmsupremacist]

poison sweet off the vine (chan/felix)

Chan, a poor student hoping to make a little extra money while he pursues a masters in music production, lands a gig as a super rich family’s pool boy. He thinks it’s pretty sweet at first. He’ll get to stay in a fancy house and eat fancy leftovers and all he has to do is clean their pool and help out around the house. And then he meets Felix, the bratty, sharp-tongued, skirt-wearing son of his employers. He knows he could get fired for just looking at Felix the wrong way, but Felix, even with his stormy, unpredictable moods and ignorant selfishness, is alluring and beautiful.

Part 2  | prev next  mlist

Characters: Chan, Felix, other members of skz throughout

Genre: smut, eventual romance, angst, I cannot overstate how much of this is sex

Pairing: Chan/Felix

Warnings: alcohol, family dysfunction, mentions of homophobia, slut-shaming (both the fun kind and the not fun kind), feminization

Rating: Explicit

Length: 14.3k

Felix has got some shit going on in this one. It’s not, like, super serious and we don’t really get into addiction territory, but I will say it might be triggering for some people, so please just proceed with caution.

Chan wakes to his phone ringing. 

He grunts sleepily, turning over in bed and getting twisted in his sheets. He manages to wrestle an arm free and slaps around for his phone, nearly knocking it into the abyss that is the floor in the process. At last, he grips it and brings it in front of his face. 

It’s horrendously bright and stings his poor, sleepy eyes, but he makes out the caller ID—Lee Minho. 

“Hello?” he croaks, accepting the call. 

“Oh good, I’m still in your favorites,” Minho says in lieu of a greeting. “And good, you’re still not dead.”

“What fucking time is it?” Chan groans.

“About five a.m. for you, so four for me,” Minho answers promptly. “You haven’t texted for three days! I was kind of worried those rich fuckers murdered you and are slow-roasting your body for Christmas dinner.”

“Why the fuck are you up at four a.m.?” Chan asks, choosing to ignore the comment about cannibalism. 

“Calling you,” Minho says. “Look, I figured during the day you’d keep your phone on silent, and wouldn’t pick up no matter what. But at night, you probably have your ringer on for your alarm, and though it might be on DND, as long as I’m still one of your favorites, my call will come through on the second try.”

“I’m taking you off my favorites,” Chan says, though he makes no move to do so. 

“So why haven’t you texted?”

Chan pauses for a second, running the past couple days over in his head. He and Felix have been fucking every chance they can get—after dinner in Felix’s room, in the sauna by the pool, even once in the garden, Felix pressed up against a very expensive statue. 

There’s a soft knock at the door. Chan shuffles to get it while he replies to Minho. “Oh, god, I’m sorry. This job is just—super active, you know, I’m exhausted every day.”

He cracks his door open and sees Felix in a robe standing expectantly outside. Chan gives him a sort of surprised and confused look, pointing at the phone, but gestures for him to come in, opening the door wider so he can slip through. 

“Okay, well, your best friend worries,” Minho is saying, “and so does your best friend’s boyfriend, so maybe text us at least once a day.”

“Oh, I see,” Chan says, dropping back down onto the bed with his legs dangling off the side and patting the mattress for Felix to join him. “You just called me because Jisung is worried, and you love him. Not ‘cause you’re actually concerned about me.”

“I am concerned about you,” Minho says. Felix doesn’t sit on the bed. He settles between Chan’s knees at his feet. Chan gives him a look; Felix blinks back serenely. “Jisung’s just… more teary about it, and I’m the only one that’s allowed to make him cry, so.”

Felix’s hands are on Chan’s thighs. “I promise I’ll text more from now on,” Chan says. 

“Good. So what’ve you been up to?” Minho asks.

Felix’s fingers slip under the waistband of Chan’s underwear. “Uh, not much,” Chan says. “Hey, listen, I should probably just go, like, do my job since I’m up. It gets hot in the afternoons. But get Jisung, and Jeongin if you can, and I’ll call later today. Like around 5 your time?” Minho groans. “C’mon, it’ll be nice if we can all talk.” He freezes when Felix reaches into his fucking pants and wraps a hand around his cock. He hopes his voice doesn’t sound too strained. “Besides, you should be asleep.”

“Fine,” Minho grumbles. “It’ll make Jisung happy.” 

“Okay, talk later, I promise.” Felix has pulled Chan’s cock out over his waistband. “Bye.”

“Bye.” The call barely ends before Felix has his mouth on Chan. 

Chan throws his phone somewhere on his bed and hisses out a moan. “What the fuck, Felix?” Felix doesn’t reply except to hum softly around Chan’s cock. “I was talking to my friend!” Felix takes him deeper, swirling his tongue over the tip. Chan presses his hand to his mouth to muffle a moan. “What if someone saw you?” he tries again. 

This gets Felix to pull off, and Chan squashes his disappointment under his thumb. “No one saw me,” Felix says. “Abeoji is already gone, and Eomma was in the shower.”

“What if she goes to check on you before she leaves?” Chan asks. He takes the sting out of the question by reaching down and cupping Felix’s jaw. “You’re gonna get me in trouble, baby.”

“She’s not gonna check on me,” Felix says. “And even if she did, she wouldn’t care or come looking.” He huffs softly, shaking his bangs out of his eyes. “Now are you gonna let me blow you, or what?”

Chan laughs quietly. “‘Course I am,” he says. “You were just trying to surprise me, right?”

Felix nods petulantly, sinking back down on him, little hands braced on Chan’s thighs for support. Chan combs his fingers through Felix’s hair, getting a good fistful of the pink locks and tightening his grip—not enough to hurt, just enough for Felix to feel it. Felix hollows his cheeks and takes him even deeper, his face practically buried between Chan’s legs.

“Mm, god, Lix, does it ever stop for you?” Chan whispers. Felix shakes his head. “You just woke up and your first thought was, ‘I should go choke on Chan’s cock’?” Felix nods. “Jesus.” He brushes his own hair back with his other hand. “Well, if you’re gonna do it, do it properly.”

He forces Felix’s head down a little, and Felix swallows around him, gagging softly, but he doesn’t resist. His eyes flutter shut as he takes Chan deeper still, until Chan feels the head of his cock hit the back of Felix’s throat. He stops then, giving Felix a second to adjust. “Good girl,” Chan murmurs, and Felix whimpers softly. “Can’t believe how well you take me.” He reaches down and smoothes his thumb over Felix’s pinched eyebrows. “Breathe, baby. Relax. I’m gonna fuck your throat, right?”

Felix does as he’s told with a nod, breathing in deep through his nose, melting against Chan’s body. His grip on Chan’s thighs loosens, and he swallows around Chan again, this time without gagging. He looks up at Chan, pretty eyes wide and inviting. 

“Ready?” Chan asks. Felix gives a minuscule nod. “Pinch me if you need to stop.” Felix rolls his eyes; Chan gives him an exasperated look in return, tightens the fist in Felix’s hair, and first pulls him off, then pushes him back down. 

Felix can take a lot. Chan learned that quickly. But still, it amazes him how quietly and easily he can deepthroat Chan. And Chan’s a realist, he knows he’s sort of just average size, but it’s not like he’s small. He shoves his cock down Felix’s throat and the only noise that comes is the wetness of the thick saliva that has gathered in Felix’s mouth. It takes a long minute or two before Felix starts gagging, but even then he doesn’t ask Chan to stop.

A sort of haze gathers in Chan’s peripheral, and he forces himself to pull out. Felix coughs wetly, panting, as Chan jerks himself off with quick, rough strokes. He realizes Felix has started to cry, but Felix only swipes the tears away and tips his head back, opening his mouth. “Wanna taste you, daddy,” he demands, voice hoarse. He sticks his tongue out, making his eyes big and pleading.

Chan curses softly and lays the head of his cock on Felix’s tongue with shaking hands. “Gonna make me—” He can’t even finish the sentence, too overwhelmed, but Felix knows. It only takes a couple more strokes, and he’s coming on Felix’s tongue, coating the roof of his mouth with his release. 

Felix doesn’t try to swallow until Chan finally pulls out, and once he does he opens his mouth after to prove he did it.

“Fuck, you’re so good,” Chan murmurs, waiting for his heartbeat to slow. “Come here, baby, up on the bed with me. I’ll take care of you.”

Felix lets Chan pull him up onto the mattress and manhandle him into his lap. Chan scoots them back, rotating so he can lean up against the headboard. Felix hardly seems to pay this any mind, already attaching his mouth to Chan’s chest, kissing over his collarbones. 

Chan undoes the sash of Felix’s robe, and he shrugs it off, letting the fabric slip away, revealing his pretty body. Chan can see his cock, tip beading precome, glistening even in the dark. He tries not to think about how there’s probably a dark wet stain on one of the folds of Felix’s robes. 

“Baby,” Chan whispers, taking hold of Felix’s chin and forcing him to look up. “There you are.” He leans in and kisses him, letting go of his jaw so he can wrap his arms around Felix’s waist instead, pulling him in. He can taste himself on Felix’s tongue, earthy and bitter. Felix moans into his mouth, rolling his hips up, his cock dragging against Chan’s abs. 

“Mm, I, I,” Felix says between kisses. “I fingered myself open b-before I came down here. Used lots of lube, so—” Chan nips at his lip and he cuts himself off to gasp. “—so I’m nice ‘n’ wet. You can—you can finger me, daddy, please.”

“Fuck,” Chan mutters, letting one hand dip down low, circling Felix’s entrance. He’s slick with lube, just like he said, and two of Chan’s fingers slip in with ease. Chan can picture it clearly, Felix on his elbows and knees, panting quietly in the pre-morning blue dark of his room, working himself open and making sure every spot he can reach is wet and ready before clambering off his bed and wrapping himself in his robe to come down and wake Chan up.

“Told you, I’ll keep myself prepped for you,” Felix says breathily. 

“You’re trying to kill me,” Chan accuses.

“No, I’m not into necrophilia,” Felix replies immediately. 

“I hate you,” Chan mutters, suppressing a smile. He shoves a third finger in and presses up. Felix drops his forehead to Chan’s shoulder, making a noise of surprise. Chan thrusts his fingers up again, hot satisfaction settling under his skin when he feels more precome blurt out of the tip of Felix’s cock and drip down onto Chan’s stomach. 

“Yes, yes,” Felix pants. “Like that, daddy, yes.” He rocks his hips up, and if Chan hadn’t literally just come, he knows he’d be in danger. 

He fingers Felix fast and ruthless, holding him close with his other arm and murmuring praise into his ear. Felix digs his fingernails into Chan’s biceps, bouncing back on Chan’s fingers, rutting his cock up against Chan’s body. His moans are quiet—even he knows what they’re doing is a little risky—but the sounds fill Chan’s head anyway.

“Such a perfect little slut,” Chan coos. “Always wanting to be filled, trying to get off. What am I gonna do with you, babygirl?” 

Felix whines softly, biting down on Chan’s pec, low enough that a tank top will easily cover it. Chan sees the muscles in his back tense. He rarely announces it when he’s going to come—Chan almost wonders if it’s a surprise to him each time, except he can’t imagine that’s true—but Chan’s getting pretty good at figuring him out. 

“Gonna come, sweetheart?” he murmurs, leaning close and speaking into Felix’s temple. Felix nods jerkily. “Gonna come on daddy’s fingers? Lemme see it, baby.” 

Felix lets out a soft, defeated sob, and then he’s coming all over Chan’s stomach, hole clenching and unclenching around Chan’s fingers. “Fuck, oh fuck, daddy, daddy,” he babbles, muffled. It takes over his whole body; he shakes, toes curling in the sheets, fingers and arms rigid. At last he collapses against Chan, right into the mess he just made.

Chan pulls his fingers out, reaching with his other hand for the box of tissues on his nightstand. He presses kisses to the top of Felix’s head while he cleans off his fingers, then reaches down to swipe away the excess around his hole. Felix whimpers softly. 

“Sore?” Chan murmurs. “Sorry, just don’t want you to walk out of here with lube dripping down your thighs.”

Felix moans happily. “I wouldn’t mind.”

“Well, I would,” Chan says, pinching his hip. 

“Mmm,” Felix hums. “Merry Christmas Eve.”

“Oh fuck, is that today?” Chan asks. “I was wondering what this was all about.”

Felix sits back, reaching for a tissue too so he can clean off his tummy. “Yeah, ‘cause I’m going to be totally booked all of tomorrow with family stuff. Tonight too. Such a drag.”

Chan nudges him. “You’ll get presents, at least,” he points out. “And it’s just a couple days. I think you can survive without my dick for that long.”

“What if I can’t?” Felix asks, but he’s grinning. 

“Then you know where to find me,” Chan replies, pulling him in for a soft kiss. Felix drapes his arms over Chan’s shoulders and kisses back with a sweet sigh. 

“Who was that on the phone?” Felix asks when they pull away. 

“Oh,” Chan says, glancing around to see his phone balancing precariously at the foot of the bed. “My friend from home. Just wondering why I hadn’t texted for the past couple days. Worried I was murdered or something.”

“Just a friend?” Felix asks. 

Chan frowns at him. “Uh, yeah, just a friend. What are you, jealous? I don’t ask who else you might be fucking.”

Felix sighs. “I was just wondering.” He pats around behind him and finds his robe, drawing it up over his shoulders. 

Chan feels bad for snapping at him. It was just a question. “Sorry,” he says quietly. “I didn’t mean it like that. Would it be a problem, if he wasn’t just a friend?”

“No,” Felix says, but it’s curt. 

“Baby, you can talk to me, you know?” Chan tries to reach up and touch his face, but Felix ducks away, expression souring.

“I said no. It’s fine,” he says. He climbs off Chan’s lab, tossing the soiled tissue in the garbage and bending to pick up his sash. “I’m going back to bed to get some more sleep,” he says as he fastens it. “It’s almost six, so you should probably head to breakfast before Maya leaves for the day. Our private chef won’t cook for you like she does.”

Right, Christmas. Maya will be off at around ten today and won’t be back until the day after Christmas. It’s just going to be Chan and the chef for the holiday. 

“Yeah, okay,” Chan agrees uncertainly. “I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah,” Felix says, pausing to give Chan a swift kiss before sweeping out of the room. 

“Merry Christmas,” Chan whispers to the closed door. 

* * *

“Chan!” Jisung picks up on the first ring, even though Chan called Minho’s phone. “I miss you, how are you?”

“Hey Jisung,” Chan replies, grinning. “I’m good. I miss you too. All of you. Am I on speaker?”

“Yes,” Minho calls, sounding a little faint, like he’s across the room. 

Chan finished his chores early and decided to take a walk around the neighborhood for this call. He’s not sure yet exactly how much he’s going to tell his friends, but he definitely wants to talk somewhere where he can’t be overheard.

“Hi Chan!” This is Jeongin. “We’re at Minho’s parents’ house for a Christmas party! We’re hiding out in Minho’s bedroom with the cats while all the grown-ups deal with the food.”

“So what have you been up to?” Minho asks, sounding much closer to the phone now. “I refuse to believe you’ve just been working. How’s Australia?”

“It’s good to be back,” Chan says. “And it’s hot.”

“It’s so weird to me that Christmas is in the summer there,” Jeongin says. “It fucking snowed here last night.”

“Sounds nice,” Chan says, wiping some sweat off his forehead. “It’s literally brutal here.”

“So, seriously, you’re just sweating your balls of cleaning some rich family’s pool, and that’s it? Do you get time off?” Minho resumes grilling him. “School hasn’t started yet, so you can’t be that busy.”

“You guys are alone?” Chan confirms. 

“Yes, we are,” Jisung says. “What, what is it?”

“So, uh.” Chan scratched the back of his head, looking around to make sure he’s alone on the street. “Well, this family has a couple of kids, right, and they’re all around our age. The son, Felix, he’s the same year as you, Jisung. And…” Chan hesitates, not sure how to explain.

“Oh my god,” Minho says loudly. “Oh my god, Chan, are you fucking him?”

“Yeah, kinda,” Chan mutters, and then has to hold his phone away from his ear as his friends erupt into shrieks of shock. 

Jeongin: “Hyung, you’re gonna get fired.”

Jisung: “Is he hot?”

Minho: “So that’s why you haven’t been texting us!”

“Yes, obviously he’s hot,” Chan says, choosing the easiest of these to reply to. “He’s beautiful, and he wears little skirts and stockings and makeup. And he was the one that seduced me, I’ll have you all know. He wouldn’t leave me alone! What was I supposed to do, tell him no?”

“Yes,” Minho says drily.

“So, like, what are you gonna do?” Jisung asks. 

“I dunno! He goes back to school in like a month, which is over in Perth so it’s not like I’ll see him after that, except maybe over Easter break.” Chan kicks at a pebble. “I like him, though. When he’s not being a little brat, he’s very sweet.” He pauses, thinking back to this morning. “A little odd, though.”

“Anyone would be odd if they grew up around that much money,” Minho points out. 

“He’s really moody,” Chan says. “Not sure what causes it, but… he’s just hard to figure out, I guess. But I like him.”

“It’s that good, huh?” Minho teases, and Chan groans. 

“Yes, okay? I wish you guys could see him, you’d understand,” Chan says. “He’s so pretty. He doesn’t look real.”

“Maybe you’re hallucinating him,” Jeongin suggests, laughing. 

“I almost wish I was,” Chan mutters wearily. “But anyway, that’s it, really. Just me making some really poor decisions. But what about you guys? How have things been since I left?”

The other three launch into updates about their lives—family drama, news from school. Chan listens, comforted by their voices and the familiarity of their struggles. The whole time he’s been here, he’s been so busy with his work (and with Felix) that he didn’t realize how homesick he was, but now, listening to his friends chatter, he feels kinda lonely. He takes a couple more turns around the block this way, chatting and laughing.

“My mom’s calling, I think we have to go,” Minho says finally. 

“Go on, enjoy your party,” Chan says. “We’ll call again soon.”

“Enjoy your fuckbuddy,” Jeongin says.

“Think about it this way!” Jisung says cheerfully when Chan groans. “At least you don’t have to worry about getting him pregnant!”

“I’m hanging up,” Chan says over their laughter. “I love you all, somehow. Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, hyung!”

“We love you, too.”

Chan waits for them to hang up, then pockets his phone with a sigh. The air is still and quiet now without their voices in his ear. He makes his way back to the house, punching in the code for the gate and slipping past, making sure it closes behind him. He goes around back, taking the staff entrance by the garage. The family is still having dinner. Once they move to the second floor, he supposes he’ll go scrounge for leftovers. 

* * *

Christmas passes. Chan doesn’t see Felix again until a couple days after, which does strike him as bizarre seeing how they live in the same house. Felix returns to him with a smile, like the weird moment they had the morning of Christmas Eve never happened. Chan chooses to ignore it, too, and in doing so, closes a door on some of his emotions swirling beneath the surface. It’s not like that will go anywhere, right? Felix has made that clear. 

And so they fall into a routine. Now that the holidays are coming to a close, Felix has realized he has some prep work for school, so he spends his mornings on that while Chan does his chores. When he finishes, he sneaks up to Felix’s room so they can fuck before dinner. Luckily, with the sparse number of staff members, they’re never in danger of getting caught.

New Year’s Eve comes before Chan knows it. The family has a party to attend after dinner, so Chan hurries through his chores since Felix will need time to get dressed. He scarfs down a lunch of cold leftovers, and then picks his way upstairs, dodging Olivia and one of the maids. They didn’t have a chance yesterday since Felix had an appointment in town—something about a magazine shoot, though Chan didn’t really get the details.

Felix is at his desk, bent over a textbook, glitter pen in hand when Chan opens his door. He looks up and immediately breaks into a smile when he sees him, capping his pen and putting it down, closing the book over it to mark his place. Chan locks the door behind him and crosses the room, taking Felix’s face in his hands and kissing him without saying hello. 

“Ugh, finally, you’re so slow,” Felix complains between kisses, letting Chan pull him to his feet and push the chair out of the way. His beautiful voice, Chan finds himself thinking. Deep and rich and smooth. “I was so bored, daddy, and I missed you yesterday, and—ah!”

Chan bends him over his desk with a hand on his back. Felix’s knees knock cutely as he grips the edge of the desk, making breathless little noises of want. His tiny skirt—white today, with a matching bralette and thigh-highs that dig into the soft skin and create a little bubble over the top—hides nothing at this angle, flipped up to reveal Felix’s pink little hole, his cock hanging between his thighs. He’s not wearing any panties.

“You’re such a brat,” Chan murmurs, hoping his tone hides the worst of his affection, pulling the chair back and sitting down in it, scooting closer and spreading Felix’s ass with one hand. 

“Yes, yes, yes, yes,” Felix chants, shivering. 

“Did you get all clean for me?” Chan asks, pressing a dry thumb to his rim. 

“Yes, I saw you finishing up in the pool,” Felix tells him, breathless. “But you’re gonna have to prep me, I didn’t have time.”

“That’s fine, baby,” Chan says, and leans in, licking a flat stripe over his entrance. Felix moans again, pushing his ass back, and after a few more minutes of teasing, Chan eats him out in earnest, getting both of them messy with spit as he works to push his tongue inside.

One day without each other shouldn’t make such a difference, but both of them have clearly gotten used to getting off multiple times a day, so the wait has felt like forever. Chan’s already rock-hard in his shorts, a tent forming in the fabric over his crotch. 

Felix is dripping precome onto the floor between his feet, Chan notices when he pulls back to take a breath. It’s kind of cute and really hot, the way he hands his body over to Chan and does very little to manage the way it reacts.

Chan reaches into the second desk drawer for lube so he can actually open Felix up, drizzling some over his index finger and giving Felix one last kiss before pushing his finger inside. 

“Oh-hhh, yes, Chan,” Felix slurs, pressing his cheek to the desk. 

Chan stretches him easily, Felix’s body already used to this kind of intrusion. He finds his prostate and pets over the spot, watching Felix shake. They’ve never tried it, but Chan wants to watch him come like this, so he stays here, massaging over the spot and stroking over Felix’s perineum with his thumb at the same time. 

“Oh, fuck, feels so good,” Felix mumbles. “Mm, keep going. I feel warm, Chan, all over.”

“Good,” Chan says quietly. Felix gasps out little moans, his legs trembling. “Relax, baby, it only works if you relax.”

Felix whimpers but obeys, slumping against the desk and letting Chan milk his prostate. After a few more minutes, a shudder passes through Felix’s whole body, and a small spurt of release dribbles from Felix’s cock, dripping down his legs and mixing with his precome on the floor. 

“Ohhh, god, that’s so—I can’t—Chan,” Felix babbles. “More.”

Chan adds a second finger, scissoring them inside Felix to press at his walls. He is trying to prep him, after all. Once Felix’s body seems to accommodate the stretch, Chan starts again, stroking over his prostate, slow and insistent. 

He’s only seen it in porn, if he’s being honest, but Chan does his research. He tried it on himself once, but either it’s really that much better with a partner or Chan’s body just doesn’t do that, but it didn’t work—it felt nice at first, but ended up just kind of uncomfortable. He’s delighted (and honestly unsurprised) to find that Felix is capable.

Felix shudders out soft moans, voice sweet and poisonous as ever, shakily readjusting his grip on the desk. It’s obscene, Chan thinks, leaning back in the chair to take him in. His little skirt lies flat against his back. One of his thigh-highs is slipping down. There’s a puddle of his release between his feet. Chan couldn’t have imagined something hotter. 

“Daddy,” Felix whimpers, so soft, so helpless. “Think I’m gonna—feels so—” He chokes on a moan, going up on his tiptoes and bending his knees. More release drips out. He settles again, body heavy against the desk, like his legs really are going to give out at any moment. “It feels like coming,” he mumbles, “but not.”

“You look so pretty, baby, so wrecked,” Chan says softly, leaning around so Felix can see him over his shoulder. “Think you can take another finger?”

“Yes,” Felix says immediately. “You’re still gonna fuck me, right?”

Chan’s lips twitch in amusement. “Of course I am,” he replies. “We have all afternoon, don’t we?”

Felix hums, placated. “Yes,” he agrees softly. 

Chan pushes three fingers in. Felix tenses around him for half a second, and then relaxes with a sigh. Chan sinks his fingers all the way to the last knuckle, moving slow and enjoying Felix’s reactions, the way he huffs out little moans, the way his legs still won’t stop shaking. 

One of Felix’s hands slips off the desk, and instead of trying to regain his grip, he brings the dropped hand to his cock, stroking in time with Chan’s fingers. Chan doesn’t even bother saying anything. He knows even if Felix comes, he’ll be able to come again when Chan fucks him. 

“Chan, mm, god, Chan,” Felix mumbles. “Always make me feel so good.”

It only takes Chan cramming his pinky in beside the others for Felix to convulse against his desk, hips twitching as he comes. It spills over his knuckles and down his legs, soaking into the fabric of his thigh-highs. 

“Ready,” Chan says calmly, pulling his fingers out and letting Felix struggle through pushing himself off the desk and upright. 

He manages it, turning around and carefully avoiding the puddle of his release on the floor, leaning back against the edge of the desk and looking down at Chan through heavy-lidded eyes. He brings his soiled hand up to his lips and sticks one of his fingers in his mouth, cleaning himself up as he catches his breath. 

“God,” he hums. “It’s gonna be so annoying when I go back to school.” Another finger pops out clean; he moves on to the next. “Who’s gonna fuck me like this?” He turns his hand so he can lick over the back of it. “You’re gonna have to call me, daddy.”

Chan smiles. “Guess I will,” he agrees. 

“Good.” Felix’s hand is clean of come, and he reaches behind him for a tissue, then turns back around and bends down to wipe off the floor. Chan clenches his hands in his lap so he doesn’t pinch Felix’s ass, even though he’s pretty sure that’s exactly what Felix wants. Felix stands again, tossing the tissue into the garbage and giving Chan a glance over his shoulder before waltzing over to his bed. “Well? Come fuck me.”

Chan stands, tugging off his clothes and draping them over the back of the desk chair. “Just one round, though,” he says. “Your parents will be home soon, and you have your New Year’s dinner to get ready for.”

“If you hurry, we’ll have time for two,” Felix says slyly. 

Chan, now naked, strolls past him to grab a condom, one hand on his cock to start working himself up to full hardness. “Why are you so insatiable?” he asks.

“C’mon, quick,” Felix demands, pouting.

Chan tears the condom open with his teeth, rolling it on and spreading a little lube over his cock. “God, but if they find out, they’d be so mad,” he says. The fear is real, but right now it’s far away, and easy to joke about. “They’d never forgive me for corrupting you.” 

They both know if anything, it was the other way around, but neither of them mention it. Instead, Felix bends over the bed, arching his back and spreading himself with his hands. “Corrupting me?” he repeats. “Then come finish the job, daddy. Fuck me like you mean it.”

“Careful what you wish for,” Chan murmurs. He grabs his underwear from the chair and brings them back to the bed with him. “Open. You’re gonna be loud, and I know one of the maids is right downstairs.” 

Felix obeys, blinking up at him prettily as Chan stuffs his underwear into his mouth. Satisfied, Chan steps back, lining himself up behind Felix and gently swatting his hands out of the way. He collects Felix’s wrists in one of his palms and pins them against his tailbone, right over the pleats of his skirt.

For how casually he’s been acting, Chan is aching. He stops wasting time, finally pushing in with a soft groan. Felix lets out a muffled whimper, squeezing his eyes shut. Chan tightens his grip on Felix’s wrists as he bottoms out, clenching his jaw.

“So tight today, babygirl,” he grits out. “Does it hurt?” Felix nods with another tiny whimper. “Doesn’t matter how much I fuck you, does it? Just one day, and your body tightens right back up for me.” He takes a couple slow, shallow thrusts, waiting for Felix to open up for him. “Perfect,” he adds. “Made for fucking.”

Felix moans at this, barely audible through the fabric crammed in his mouth. His hair has partially fallen into his face. He looks like an angel, Chan thinks before he can stop himself. It wouldn’t matter; it’s true whether Chan lets himself think it or not. 

Chan can move with ease now, so he speeds up, thrusting in with much more force until the sound of skin against skin is loud enough to make him a little nervous. But Felix is making pleased sounds, so Chan decides it’s worth a little risk. He lets his jaw drop open, panting out sharp exhales, trying to keep himself silent as best he can.

It’s difficult, though. Felix is warm and wet around him. Pleasure is a hot, heavy stone in the pit of Chan’s stomach, and the feeling only grows with every movement. The A/C is on high, but still Chan feels sweat beading on his hairline, can feel the flush that’s crept up his neck to his cheeks and down to his chest.

Felix moans out what sounds like yes, daddy, faster. Chan obeys immediately, somehow speeding up the rocking up his hips. Felix’s eyebrows pinch prettily, his eyes finding Chan’s. He’s picture-perfect, even with his hair in his face and tears welling up quick on his waterline. Maybe especially. One tear spills over, a fat drop of water. It rolls sideways down his face, over the bridge of his cute nose, distorting his freckles. He blinks, and another tear falls, and another. His eyeliner begins to smear. 

Chan doesn’t know why, but Felix’s tears turn him on just as much as the skirts and stockings. “Oh, baby,” he murmurs. “Feels that good?” Felix manages a nod, sniffling. “Finally getting fucked like you wanted?” Another nod, followed by a muffled sob. Chan has half the mind to take the makeshift gag out, just to hear Felix’s voice. “Gonna take care of you,” he says instead. This gets him another muted sob in response, and pride glows warm in his chest. 

Chan continues to pound into him, almost enraptured by the way Felix’s tears work to ruin his careful makeup. Felix’s wrists slip from his hold, but Chan doesn’t move to take them again. If Felix wants to take the underwear out, Chan doesn’t think he wants to stop him. Felix doesn’t, though, just uses his arms to prop himself on his elbows, fucking himself back on Chan’s cock, taking fistfuls of the sheets and letting his head hang. 

Chan secures a hold on Felix’s waist with one hand, using the other to reach up and grab Felix’s hair. Felix makes a noise of want in the back of his throat the instant Chan’s fingertips brush past his scalp. Chan takes his pretty hair into his fist and uses it to pull his head back up, until Felix is arched back and whimpering. He wishes there was a mirror, so he could see the tear-tracks on his face, the red blush that colors his neck and chest, the way his tiny fingers are curled tight into the duvet. 

Felix spits the gag out, almost like a challenge. “Y-yes,” he stutters, finally free. “Chan, yes, like that. Fuck, I’m gonna feel you all night long, you’re all I’m gonna think about.”

Chan can’t help the noise that escapes him, low and guttural. He likes that a lot. Felix will be around so many rich, beautiful people tonight, but he’ll have the reminder of Chan with every step. A mark of possession. Chan might never be part of the world Felix is from, but he’ll have this. He’ll know he had him. 

Felix does seem to try to keep his noises to a minimum, despite the fact that he doesn’t have anything stopping him anymore. Either he’s just humoring Chan, trying to prove that he can be good, or he’s actually taken Chan’s warning to heart. He cries softly, the sound muted by his closed lips. 

“Staying so quiet for me,” Chan whispers. “Good girl.”

“Oh, fuck,” Felix says in a small, broken voice. “F-fuck, daddy, thank you, thank you.” 

Chan presses his fingers into Felix’s hips, wondering if he can sear his fingerprints in through the fabric of the skirt if he tries hard enough. He feels the heat build inside him, a fever threatening to eat him alive. Stars float in front of his vision, and he fights to keep an even pace. Felix hiccups out little moans, mumbling more thank you, daddys and right there, yes, pleases. Chan’s world is spinning, spinning; he makes some kind of noise, but it’s hazy even to his own ears. He thinks he feels the tension snap in his stomach.

“Mm, yes,” Felix hisses out. Chan closes his eyes, his hips still moving, though erratically now. “So warm, daddy, can feel it. Wish you could fill me up for real, wish I could keep you with me tonight, a load plugged up and hidden—”

There’s rushing in Chan’s ears, and he sways, body twitching. He thinks he lets go of Felix’s hair, thinks he can feel Felix clenching around him, can feel him writhing in pleasure beneath him, but it’s all so far away.

Chan tilts himself forward, caging Felix’s body with his arms and resting his forehead against his back, breathing deep and slow. Felix giggles softly. The noise is a little clearer, or maybe Chan’s just closer. “Are you gonna pass out?” he hears Felix ask.

“No,” he says hoarsely, then reconsiders and adds, “I don’t know.”

Another breathy giggle. “‘Cause I wouldn’t be able to move,” Felix says. “I’d—I’d be trapped here with you on top of me, still inside me.”

The world is coming back into focus, but Chan doesn’t dare open his eyes. He feels lightheaded. “You sound like you’d like that a lot,” he mutters. “Didn’t you just come?

“Yeah, but you know. Worse people to be trapped under,” Felix hums placidly. “Worse cocks to be stuck on.”

“Thanks, I think,” Chan says.

They lay there for a few long moments, just breathing. Chan doesn’t drop his full weight onto Felix—as much as Felix seems convinced he’d like it, Chan is a little worried he’s going to crush him. It is oddly peaceful, slowly floating down together in the afterglow. The room smells like sex, but Chan’s nose is against Felix’s skin, and the sweet citrusy scent all but overpowers it. He takes another deep breath.

“Felix! Olivia!” The intercom crackles to life and Chan nearly has a heart attack, snapping his eyes open and lurching off of Felix’s body before realizing Mrs. Lee’s voice is coming from the speaker, which means she has to be downstairs in her office. “We have dinner in an hour and the Hwang’s New Year’s Eve party to get to right after. Your sister is already ready. I won’t allow us to be late! Dressed and downstairs in forty-five minutes, no excuses!”

The room is silent, and then Felix buries his face in his duvet and laughs.

“How are you laughing?” Chan complains. “I think I almost pissed myself.”

“Take back what I said,” Felix says into the duvet. “Glad you have a condom on. Piss is where I draw the line.”

Chan pulls out, rolling the offending condom off and tossing it in the trash. “Shut up,” he mutters. “Well, you heard her.” Felix stands, too, reaching for a tissue to wipe his come off the bed. “You have forty-five minutes to not look like you just got fucked, so you better hurry up.”

“I’m a professional, I can do it in twenty,” Felix says. When he turns to Chan, he’s got a glint in his eye that Chan knows means trouble. “Which means we have time for one last round.” 

“Felix, she’s home,” Chan hisses.

“So?” Felix says. “We’ve fucked with my parents home before.”

“Yeah, but not on a night like tonight!” Chan says. “What if she comes up to check that you’re actually getting ready?”

Felix makes a face. “She won’t,” he says, and there’s a bitterness there that Chan doesn’t quite understand. “She’d rather be disappointed.” He seems to sense Chan is wavering, and clears his expression. “Please,” he wheedles. “One more, just one. So I can make it through this stupid party.”

“I thought you were friends with the Hwangs’ son,” Chan says, but he’s already going for a fresh condom. Felix tosses him his underwear and he puts them with his other clothing.

“Yeah, but our parents are going to be breathing down our fucking necks,” Felix says. He crawls up to the head of the bed. “You can go slow this time, so the bed doesn’t creak. Besides,” he adds with a giggle as he unclasps his bralette and throws it in the general direction of his hamper. “I think if you fucked me like you just did, I’d bleed—which normally I wouldn’t mind, but I don’t think Eomma would take kindly to bloodstains on my new suit.”

“Oh, a suit?” Chan says, raising an eyebrow, climbing onto the bed, too. Felix reaches out for his cock, so Chan moves closer, watching Felix’s little hands wrap around it. He’s sensitive, but they’ve taken enough of a break that it’s not unbearable.

“Mm, a suit. It’s white silk, very pretty,” Felix says. “This is a serious event, my parents would never let me go in a skirt.”

“I’ll always like the skirts best,” Chan says as Felix sits up properly so he can press his tongue to the tip of Chan’s cock. Chan inhales sharply through clenched teeth, the air almost whistling from the speed. “But I wouldn’t mind seeing you in a pretty suit, too.”

“Come see us off after dinner,” Felix says. “Ask my mum if she needs anything before she goes. She’ll like that, and you’ll get to see me.”

“Okay,” Chan agrees softly, running a hand through Felix’s hair.

Felix uses his hands and mouth to work Chan back up to hardness. Chan watches the clock. It takes ten minutes. He’s going to have to be quick if they don’t want to get caught. There’s a part of him that knows he should’ve said no, should’ve gotten dressed and left, but a bigger part of him is enjoying the risk. Or maybe it’s just the part of him that wants to agree to everything Felix says.

So Chan rolls the new condom on, adds more lube. Felix settles back into the pillows, spreading his legs, cock just beginning to harden again underneath his skirt. Downstairs, Felix’s family prepares for dinner, for a party, and doesn’t wonder what’s taking Felix so long, doesn’t wonder where Chan has disappeared to. Just a few floors above them, Chan pushes back into Felix’s body with a soft grunt. Felix wraps his arms around Chan’s shoulders, his legs around Chan’s waist, pulling him close. 

It’s slow and quiet, completely different from the way they are just a half an hour before. Chan stays buried deep and circles his hips, grinding into Felix, his lips on Felix’s throat, his Adam’s Apple, his jaw. Felix ducks his head so they can kiss, deep and fierce and almost noiseless. 

“Chan,” Felix whispers between kisses. “So good to me.”

Chan smiles against his lips. Here, wrapped in each other's bodies, they can’t possibly hurt each other. “Of course I am,” he says. “I want what you want.”

“Even when it’s a terrible idea?” Amusement is a shining light behind Felix’s eyes.

Chan kisses him, quick and almost chaste. “I’m here, aren’t I?” he asks when he pulls away.

“Yes,” Felix whispers. The amusement fades, replaced by something else. “You’re here.”

Chan cups his face in his hands, stroking over his cheekbones with his thumbs. His makeup is destroyed, mascara drying on his cheeks and lip gloss smudged on his chin. His nose is still red, eyes still puffy, from crying. And he’s beautiful. I’ll be here as long as you want me, Chan thinks helplessly.

He kisses him again so he doesn’t say it. Their noses bump, but Felix leans in insistently, holding Chan close, fingers interlocked behind his neck. Chan breathes Felix in, lemon and sugar and sweat, rolling his hips, dirty and deep, swallowing all of Felix’s soft moans. Chan can feel Felix’s heartbeat under his fingertips, quick like a rabbit’s. Felix holds him close like he doesn’t want to let go.

When Chan comes, he doesn’t even make a sound. It passes through his body like something washing up on the shore—slow, almost languid, final. Felix kisses him through it, clenching tight dutifully, making it good for him. 

Chan pulls out and replaces his cock with a couple of his fingers, and works them in as deep as they’ll go, then thrusts shallowly, not enough to make a lot of noise. With his other hand, he thumbs over the slit of Felix’s cock. Felix covers his mouth with his hands, eyes wide and staring up at the ceiling, abdomen tight from the exertion. 

He comes in a few weak dribbles that run down Chan’s knuckles, a tiny amount of fluid, nearly clear. Felix twists in the sheets but stays quiet, lifting his hips up off the bed as he shakes. “Good girl,” Chan murmurs, and Felix whines high and faint in the back of his throat.

There are twenty minutes exactly left for Felix to get ready when Chan hops off the bed to discard the condom and go wash his hands. Felix is working his way to the edge of the bed when Chan returns from the bathroom. He grabs his tank top and throws it on, walking over to the bed to give Felix a kiss on the forehead.

“I’ll come see you off later, yeah?” he says.

Felix nods. “I’ll see you later.” He slips down onto the floor and stumbles, knees buckling. Chan grabs him before he can fall to the floor, and Felix giggles weakly. “Oh god, you fucked me so good, hyung,” he says, voice syrupy-sweet. “Oh, shit.” Chan lets him go and he wobbles, but remains standing. “Oh, my legs feel like jelly. What if I can’t walk?” He’s still giggling when he looks up at Chan.

“That’s not funny,” Chan groans, heading back to the desk chair to put on the rest of his clothes. “If your parents find out about this because I fucked you so hard you can’t walk right, I will literally never forgive myself.”

“Kind of a great way to go, though,” Felix says blithely, waltzing into the bathroom. “Go, before they really do catch you.”

“Right,” Chan mutters to himself, tying the waistband of his shorts.

* * *

Chan goes to bed early that night. He sees the family off, watching Felix out of the corner of his eye. The suit is very pretty, a warm-toned white, oversized and draped over Felix’s body perfectly. The shirt is made of a shimmery, gossamer fabric, and Mrs. Lee reminds Felix three times to button another button. She also tells Chan to take a bottle of champagne from the cellar to celebrate. 

Chan takes a bottle but doesn’t open it, just leaves it on his desk and heads into the shower to wash the day’s sins off of his body. He finds Felix’s come crusted in his nailbeds, and hopes to god nobody noticed.

He falls asleep long before midnight and wakes sometime in the stifling darkness of the early hours to a body next to his own, warm and smelling of champagne.

“Felix?” he whispers. “What time is it? Are you drunk?”

“No, just a little tipsy,” Felix whispers back. He sounds clearheaded; he must be telling the truth. “And it’s a little past two. Your door was unlocked. I just—wanted to come say goodnight. I wanted to see you.”

He’s not in his suit. He’s not in a robe, either; instead, little sleep shorts and an unassuming t-shirt, loose and soft from wear. Chan blinks against the dark, reaching a hand up to touch his face. His hair is still damp from his shower. “How was the party?”

Felix crawls under the blankets, pressing cold toes to Chan’s shins. “It was alright. I got to see my friends, at least. I need to see you and Changbin side by side. I think his arms are even bigger than yours.”

Chan exhales soft laughter, wrapping an arm around Felix and kissing the tip of his nose. “Well, alright is better than bad, I guess,” he says. “Make any resolutions?”

“To continue being a horrible little brat,” Felix replies, giggling. “You?”

“I didn’t,” Chan admits. “I didn’t really think about it.”

“It’s just another day,” Felix says with a half-shrug. “Just like yesterday. Just like tomorrow.”

“That’s true,” Chan agrees softly, some tender feeling blooming in his chest. 

“Happy New Year,” Felix whispers.

“Happy New Year,” Chan repeats.

“I didn’t have anyone to kiss at midnight,” Felix says.

“You do now,” Chan says, and kisses him. And kisses him. And kisses him.

When Chan wakes up the next morning, Felix is already gone, but his sheets smell like champagne and lemons and sugar.

* * *

Chan is in the garden, trimming away dead leaves. Jerry went home early—a doctor’s appointment, Chan thinks he said, so it’s up to Chan to tend to the plants. The afternoon sun is punishing, beating against his back, but Chan honestly doesn’t mind it. The garden, when he’s alone, is peaceful. 

The first week or so of January has passed quietly. There’s only a couple weeks now before the new semester begins, and Chan finds himself looking forward to it. It’ll be nice to have other people around his age to talk to—Felix doesn’t count. 

Speaking of Felix, he thinks to himself as he moves down the row of plants, I wonder where he is? Chan didn’t see him at breakfast or at lunch. It’s not unlike him to sleep in, especially now that his break is almost finished, but Chan usually sees him before the afternoon wears on. Then again, Chan is usually around the house, not out in the gardens. 

He works his way to the center of the garden throughout the afternoon, pausing every now and again for water or sunblock. He gets to the clearing where he found Felix that first evening, and after he finishes his work there, he decides to give himself a break, dropping down onto the bench with a sigh.

He sits there awhile, answering a couple texts and checking his socials. It’s not so bad in the shade, and there’s a breeze today, so Chan actually finds himself comfortable after a few minutes of rest. He tips his head back, looking up at the trees.

He can’t imagine growing up in a place like this. This is an estate. It should be a museum. The whole property is so sterile, almost, pristine; meant for looking at, not living in. Chan honestly found it hard to believe anyone lived this way, except maybe the richest people in the world. But now here Chan is as proof—this sort of life is lived in, just meticulously looked after by unseen hands. 

Chan lets himself sit and contemplate for about a half an hour, and then begrudgingly gets to his feet to get back to work. He collects his tools and is about to move on when he hears uneven footfalls coming his way. 

Felix appears in the entrance to the clearing, wearing the tiny booty shorts and holding a nearly full bottle of wine. It’s a red today, and looks expensive. His lips are stained the faintest hint of dark purple, and his eyes, vacant and unfocused, light up when he sees Chan.

“Oh my god, there you are!” he exclaims. His crop top is slipping off the one of his shoulders; it slips further as he heads Chan’s way. Uneasy, Chan drops his tools back in the grass and pockets his phone. 

“Hey, Felix,” he says slowly, eyeing the bottle in his hand. “Is that… all you drank?” He can’t imagine it is; Felix stumbles over his own feet in the grass. 

Felix holds it up and looks at it, then takes another sip. “No,” he says, almost sing-songy. “I finished one after I got home.”

“Home from where?” Chan asks, letting Felix fall into his arms. “Careful, baby.”

Felix doesn’t answer. He’s busy pressing closer to Chan, nose against his neck. “Hi, daddy,” he slurs. “Missed you this morning.” He surges up and kisses Chan, wet and messy.

Chan raises his chin to get out of his reach. “Uh, yeah,” he says, debating the merits of taking the wine from Felix and the chances he’ll succeed. “I was working, like usual. Where… were you?”

“Oh, you know,” Felix mumbles vaguely, leaning in. Chan flinches back instinctively, and Felix frowns. “Why won’t you kiss me?”

“You’re super drunk, baby,” Chan says softly. “I’m worried about you. Here,” he says, bending down and picking up his water bottle. “How about some water?”

Felix shakes his head, and takes another swig of wine just to spite him. “I don’t want water,” he says petulantly. Chan swears the slurring is getting worse by the sentence. “I want wine, and I want you.” Another swig, and then he offers the bottle to Chan. Chan shakes his head. “‘Member how I said I want it all the time, even if I’m drunk?” He takes one of Chan’s hands with his own. “Well, I meant it.” He tries to pull Chan’s hand around his back, down toward his ass. 

“Felix.” Chan tries to pry his hand out Felix’s grasp as gently as he can, but Felix’s grip is surprisingly strong.

“C’mon, daddy,” Felix murmurs. Chan can feel the swell of one of his cheeks on his palm. “Don’t you want me?” He presses one of Chan’s fingers to his entrance, and Chan registers that he’s already loose and wet with lube.

Chan wrangles himself free, trying to ignore Felix’s gasp of pain when he accidentally bends one of his fingers. “This isn’t a good idea, Felix,” he says softly, hoping to gentle the rejection by keeping his tone light. It’s not that he doesn’t want him, he just doesn’t want him like this. “C’mon, let’s get you inside. The heat can’t be helping.” He tries to start walking them in the direction of the house, but Felix refuses to budge.

“No, please, Chan,” Felix whines. “Why not? You fucked me here before, remember?” Chan does remember. He remembers pressing Felix up against one of the statues and smothering his moans with a hand clamped tight over his mouth. There’s no way he couldn’t remember. “Why won’t you do it now?” Felix continues. “Just ‘cause I’m a little drunk? I told you, it’s fine. I’m a slut, I always want it.” He’s practically spitting the words at Chan; his voice has taken on a strange quality that Chan isn’t sure how to interpret. “I need it.”

“Baby,” Chan says softly. “I’m not gonna fuck you right now. Okay? I’m in the middle of working, and you need to drink some water and sober up, or your mum is going to lose her shit. C’mon, let me help you.”

This seems to infuriate Felix. He wrenches himself away, nearly losing balance. “If you don’t fuck me, I’ll tell her about us.”

Fear courses through Chan’s body, but he knows immediately he’d rather take that risk than do something he knows is bad for Felix. “I don’t care,” he says softly. “Tell her. This isn’t right, I won’t do it, I’m not going to fuck you when you’re drunk and clearly—upset about something—”

“I’m not upset, the only thing I’m upset about is that you don’t like me anymore,” Felix protests. “Please, Chan. I need it.”

“No, you don’t,” Chan sighs, going up to him and linking their arms together. “And of course I still like you. We’re gonna go inside, okay? And we’re going to get you some water, and find Maya, and she’ll make you something to eat. I’m worried about you, baby, okay? Will you do this for me?”

Felix grumbles incoherently, but complies nonetheless, letting Chan march him out of the gardens. Chan thinks he murmurs a good girl in Felix’s ear; maybe that’s why he keeps walking. Felix takes drinks of his wine as they go, but Chan decides that that is not a battle worth fighting. He’s going to take this small victory and run, because the last thing he needs is for Felix to refuse to come with him again. In any case, he has much bigger problems to contend with at the moment—Felix trips over his own feet every few steps, most of his weight falling on Chan to carry. 

“Chan,” he slurs, giggles. He presses a sloppy kiss to Chan’s neck, nearly toppling both of them in the process. “You’re soooo strong. How come you’re walking so straight?” More giggles, interrupted by a hiccup. “The world is sideways.”

“Just keep moving,” Chan says. “I’ve got you.”

So he lets Felix drink without saying a word as they cross the bridge, the patio, and finally make it to the back door. Chan isn’t quite sure how he gets both of them inside, but he manages that, too, closing and locking the door behind him and letting Felix use him as a support while he kicks off his shoes. They pad clumsily down the hall, Chan veering them towards the kitchen and praying Maya will be there.

She is, thankfully, cleaning up at the breakfast bar and setting out some fruit. Her eyes widen when she sees them, taking in the drunken flush of Felix’s cheeks and Chan’s strained expression, dropping her work and hurrying to meet them.

“What happened?” she asks Chan.

“I don’t know,” Chan says, lies. “I ran into him when I was working in the garden. He’s…” Chan glances at the bottle in Felix’s hand. It’s already half-empty. “I think that’s his second bottle, I don’t know. He’s really drunk, and I didn’t know what to do, so I managed to convince him to come inside to get some water.”

Maya reaches out for Felix, but he just turns his head away. “Thank you, Chan,” she says softly. “Thank you for looking out for him.” Guilt runs through Chan’s veins like ice, but he nods. “He has days like this, but we’ve survived every one. Here, can you get him into a chair? I’ll go grab some water.”

She turns to go, and Chan starts to walk, but Felix groans, hanging his head, and vomits unceremoniously and without warning onto the floor. It spatters against the hardwoods, some of it splashing onto Chan’s socks. Watered down wine, purple-red, and nothing solid. No wonder he’s so fucked up, Chan finds himself thinking as Felix sways, bottle slipping from his fingers.

Chan’s memories of the next few minutes are blurry. He manages to catch the bottle as Felix drops it, saving it from shattering on the floor. Felix continues to throw up, all liquid, coughing and gagging even when it’s all gone, his full weight sagging against Chan’s side. Chan manages to get Felix into a chair; Maya brings him water and some paper towels to clean himself up with. Chan cleans up the mess on the floor while Maya calls for Felix’s parents. Mr. Lee isn’t home, but his mother takes one look and walks out, disgusted. 

Rachael is the one who takes Felix back to his room. Chan sees them get into the elevator, and that’s the last of it, Felix’s pink hair falling into his eyes and obscuring his face, Rachael with her arm wrapped tight around him, eyes stormy. The door closes, and Chan takes soaked paper towels to the trash.

The kitchen is quiet in the aftermath. Maya sighs softly, looking at Chan over the island. “Sorry,” she says. “But if you work here long enough, you see that eventually.”

“Is he… okay?” Chan ventures, just above a whisper.

“It doesn’t happen that often,” she says. “Usually, he’ll have a glass or two once in a while, and it’s fine. But sometimes…” She gestures helplessly around her. “I don’t know. They…” She lowers her voice. “They took him to a doctor once, but they said it wasn’t unusual for a kid his age to overindulge on occasion. Mr. and Mrs. Lee agreed, so they didn’t send him back.”

“What do you think?” Chan asks.

“I think he’s sad,” she says quietly after a moment of hesitation. “More than he lets on, and sometimes this is the only way he knows how to deal with it.”

* * *

The house has a sort of haunted silence to it for the rest of the day. Chan finishes his work quickly and retreats to his room to try and escape it, only leaving to grab something for dinner in the late evening. But the silence is everywhere, hanging heavy in the air, oppressive.

Still, the next morning, it seems things have returned to normal. Rachael leaves for her internship at her usual time. Felix doesn’t come to breakfast.

Chan only sees him after lunch when he’s restocking the patio. He comes down the stairs almost shyly, taking small, calculated steps and sitting down in a lounge chair slowly, like if he moves quietly enough, Chan won’t see him.

“Thank you,” Felix says finally. “For taking care of me yesterday.”

Chan blinks, setting down a water bottle and straightening, hesitating for a moment before walking over to Felix and sitting in the chair next to him. “Yeah, no, don’t worry about it,” he says. “It was the right thing to do. And…” He looks Felix over. He’s a little pale, and there are bags under his eyes, but he looks fine. “I’m glad you’re okay. Do you… wanna talk about it?”

Felix is silent for a few long minutes. Chan waits patiently, looking out over the sparkling water of the pool.

“My parents hate me,” Felix says at last. There’s a finality to his tone that makes his words sink in like dead weight. “They’re disappointed in everything I do. And you know? Sometimes I am too.” He runs his hands through his hair. “They have an idiot for a son, who gets so drunk he throws up on their hardwoods before dinner, and who has no direction in life and no idea what he wants to be. And honestly?” He waits until Chan is looking at him before he continues. “I’d just feel bad for them, except I know that the thing they hate the most about me is that I’m gay, and I dress like—“ He gestures down at himself. He’s in a demure linen dress today, the top three buttons undone and the waist cinched tight. “—like a sissy slut.” The words come out hard as stones, and Chan understands the tone he took in the garden yesterday. It wasn’t his own voice. It was his mother’s, stealing his tongue. “They pretend they’re supportive, because they don’t want to harm my dad’s image, but—I know the truth,” Felix says. “And I’m—I’m not ashamed of it. I know who I am. But I just wish—” He breaks off, presses his lips together, looking through Chan. “I just wish they loved me,” he finishes quietly. 

Chan’s heart twists in his chest. He still doesn’t really understand—where Felix goes, why he acts the way he does, what it is exactly that he’s running from—but he does feel hurt for him. “Felix,” he says softly.

Felix looks back up at him. “You know I wouldn’t have actually told them, right?” he asks seriously.

Chan blinks. “You… remember that?” He kind of assumed Felix had blacked out for most of the afternoon.

Felix nods miserably. “Yeah,” he mutters. “It’s spotty, but… I remember trying to—to get you to fuck me, and then threatening to tell my parents when you wouldn’t. And I just want you to know that I wouldn’t.” He pauses, looking at Chan, his expression unreadable. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Thank you,” Chan says softly.

“And I’m sorry.” The words sound like they’re being dragged from Felix’s chest. He must not apologize often, so Chan is honestly touched that he’s doing it now. “For—for throwing myself at you, and for saying I’d do that. And for puking on your socks.”

Chan can’t help the laughter that bursts out of him. “It’s okay,” he says, trying to rein it in. At least there’s a ghost of a smile now on Felix’s lips. “Really, it’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it. I forgive you. Do you know, the reason I don’t drink often is because I had a night like that in college?”

Felix leans in, intrigued. “Really? You?”

“Yeah,” Chan says, happy to be on a lighter topic, happy that Felix is no longer stewing in a world of self-pity. “It was my freshman year, right after finals, and I drank so much I was throwing up I swear for an hour straight. And the worst part is, it started in my friend Minho’s room, and his floor was carpeted.”

“Oh, fuck,” Felix laughs. The sound warms Chan.

“Yeah, so don’t feel bad. The cleanup yesterday was really easy,” Chan says. “Your hardwoods have a good sealant on them, don’t worry. Back then, we had to call in the poor cleaning staff, and they kicked my friends out of their room so they could shampoo it…”

* * *

“I’m gonna get lunch,” Felix says, emerging from the pool and wrapping a towel around his shoulders. “You know where to find me.”

Chan nods wordlessly, peeking up at him as he leaves before getting back to work. 

The break is coming to a close. Felix leaves first out of his siblings, going back in just a few days now. Though neither of them say it, Chan can tell they’re both making a more concerted effort to see each other as often as possible. It’s easy in some ways. Since the holidays are over, Mr. and Mrs. Lee spend most of their days out of the house, coming back late. And though all the staff members are back, which makes dodging them hard, at least Chan doesn’t have any extra work to hold him back.

So Chan finishes his work, grabs a quick lunch, and then heads upstairs. Felix is exactly where Chan expected him, curled up at his desk, busy gaming, cute round glasses on and a green Melona popsicle between his lips. 

Felix sees him when he comes in and scrambles to pause his game, pulling off his headphones and grabbing the popsicle out of his mouth. “Hi,” he says, almost breathless. His lips are bright red and glossy from the popsicle. 

“Hi,” Chan replies. He takes his time with the lock, strolling slowly over to Felix and running a hand through his hair. The roots are really starting to grow in, deep, inky black against faded pink. A measure of how long Chan has known him. “Still in your swimsuit,” he says.

“Thought maybe we could shower together,” Felix replies. He holds Chan’s gaze and licks a stripe up his popsicle. 

“Mm, good idea,” Chan agrees, bending over him and finally kissing him. Felix moans softly, his free hand coming up to grip one of Chan’s biceps, tiny fingers pressing into the muscle. His lips are cold and he tastes sweet. Chan licks over his bottom lip, then pushes in past his teeth. He’s sweet everywhere, popsicle coating his tongue.

Felix’s eyes are glazed with pleasure when they break apart. His popsicle is melting in his hand, but he seems unaware of it. Chan grins at him, bending to the side and catches a drop with his tongue. “I’m gonna eat this if you don’t,” he says. Felix just hums, holding it out to him, so Chan does the only logical thing, which is to take the whole thing in his mouth and then pull back off real slow, keeping his cheeks hollowed and his eyes on Felix. 

“You’re just as bad as I am,” Felix says with a dreamy giggle as Chan licks his lips.

“Wasn’t like this before I met you,” Chan says, which is mostly true. He kisses Felix again, pinning him to the chair. “We gonna shower?”

“Mm, yeah,” Felix says, but he keeps kissing Chan, alternating between that and taking licks of his popsicle. Chan knows he’s not helping; he reaches down between Felix’s legs and cups his cock in his palm, groping him through the thin fabric of his tiny swim bottoms. Felix lets out another moan, bucking up into Chan’s hand.

“Should really get in the shower, then,” Chan hums, but he keeps going, running his fingers up and down the length of Felix’s cock until he’s hard. Precome leaks a wet patch into the swim bottoms, the stain spreading as the minutes drip by. Felix swirls what’s left of his popsicle in his mouth, movements slow and lazy, moans muffled. “Should get going before you make a mess in your bikini,” Chan continues. 

“Mm, Chan,” Felix sighs, so pretty. “S-stop touching me, then.”

Chan hums like he’s considering it. “Do you want me to stop touching you?” he asks.

“N-no,” Felix stutters. He pulls the popsicle stick out, clean. “Kiss me.”

Chan obliges, bracing himself with a hand on the headrest of Felix’s chair. Felix pushes his cold tongue into Chan’s mouth, whimpering in the back of his throat as he runs it over Chan’s teeth. It’s messy, but Chan doesn’t care. He’ll happily lick any taste off the surface of Felix’s tongue.

They keep kissing until Felix comes, sticky white soaking through his swim bottoms and getting all over Chan’s hand, moans muffled in Chan’s mouth, popsicle stick dropped and forgotten on the floor. Felix goes limp against the chair when Chan pulls away, sighing softly. “Ohh, I felt that in my toes,” he mumbles, eyes fluttering shut. 

Chan grins, kissing him on the tip of the nose, then reaches around with his clean hand to grab lube and a condom out of the desk drawer. “Okay, definitely shower now,” he says. 

“I can’t move,” Felix complains. “My legs won’t go.”

“You’re such a piece of work,” Chan mutters fondly, readjusting his grip on the lube and then simply scooping Felix out of the chair and carrying him to the bathroom. Felix squeaks in delight, giggling softly as Chan lowers him gently onto the edge of the tub. 

“You’re seriously so strong, Chan,” he says, watching as Chan pokes his head into the shower to start the water. “I bet you could squat me.”

“I could definitely squat you,” Chan agrees. “I could squat two of you.”

“We have a gym,” Felix says, now sounding a little dreamy. “You could probably even bench me.”

“Probably,” Chan says, setting the lube and condom down on the counter and giving him a look. “But I think if someone catches us in the gym together, they’re really gonna start asking questions.”

“Oh, but naked in my bathroom is okay?” Felix asks pointedly as Chan shucks his tank up and over his head. 

“The point of your rooms is people won’t just walk in,” Chan replies. “‘Cause you might be naked. Speaking of which, get moving.”

“Point taken,” Felix chirps, untying the strings of his bikini top and letting it fall to the floor, then stepping out of his soiled bottoms and hooking them over a finger. “Hurry up.” He steps into the shower and disappears behind the steam.

Chan shakes his head, carefully folding his underwear and laying it on top of the stack of the rest of his clothes on the counter. He picks up the lube and condom and heads into the shower.

Felix is waiting under the water, scrubbing at his swim bottoms. “One sec,” he says softly, glancing up when Chan brings in a whoosh of cold air. 

The shelves are out of the way of the spray, so Chan puts the lube and condom on the highest one, holding his hand out for Felix’s swim bottoms so he can hang them on one of the little hooks on the wall when he’s done. 

“Thanks,” Felix says, a genuine, proper show of gratitude. Chan hides his smile, reaching for the shampoo.

“Turn around,” he says. “Close your eyes.”

Felix obeys, and Chan squeezes a dollop of shampoo out onto his palm, capping the bottle with a click and putting it back before rubbing his hands together. He spreads the shampoo on Felix’s wet hair, pressing the pads of his fingertips into Felix’s scalp in a gentle massage, running his fingers through the strands to make sure the soap gets everywhere. 

“Your hair’s so smooth,” Chan finds himself saying. “Even though you’ve dyed it. It’s so soft.”

Chan can hear Felix’s smile even though he can’t see it. “Thanks.” Felix leans into his touch. “Feels good.”

“Yeah?” Chan asks, slowing his movements, working his fingers in circles. Felix moans lowly, and Chan’s pretty sure it’s not even sexual. “Good?”

“Yes, daddy,” Felix breathes, and—okay, maybe a little sexual. But he does kind of look like he’s melting a little bit, relaxing under Chan’s hands. 

He remains pliant as Chan washes his hair out for him, and patient when Chan works on his own hair. But the instant the soap is gone, his hands are on Chan’s body, pressing little kisses to his chest and arms. 

“Ready for round two?’” Chan asks needlessly. “Want daddy to fuck you now?”

“Mm-hm,” Felix agrees.

Chan puts the water on super hot and then points the faucet away from them so they don’t drown, but they stay warm. “Up against the wall, then,” he says, nodding to it. Felix goes immediately, pressing himself up against the tile and sticking his cute little ass out. “Jesus, baby,” Chan says before he can stop himself. “You look like a dream.” Felix just smirks at him over his shoulder.

Chan finds the lube, drizzling a little over his fingers as he walks up behind Felix. He kisses his shoulder blade, staying close as he feels around for his entrance and pushes a finger in. Felix moans softly, the sound echoing against the walls. “God, I always forget how big your fingers are,” he says. “Can’t ever make myself feel the way you do.”

“Good thing I’m here, then,” Chan says, pushing in past his middle knuckle and waiting for Felix to relax around him.

“Yeah, but—mm—you won’t be soon,” Felix says. “I mean, I won’t be. I’m gonna fuck my way through all the jocks trying to find someone who can do what you can.”

Chan tamps down the jealousy that flares in his chest. Felix isn’t his. He can fuck whoever he wants. “Good luck with that,” he says. “You’d have better time with artists. They actually have fine motor skills.”

“Mm, that’s a good point,” Felix huffs. “Hyunjin’s always been good with his hands.”

Chan decides he’s not going to ask exactly what Felix means by that. “Besides, I bet most of the athletes’ll only last a couple minutes.”

“I dunno,” Felix says, mischief rich in his voice. “Changbin has great stamina, and my other friend Seungmin is a baseball player, and he does too.”

“You trying to make me jealous?” Chan asks. “Or do you just fuck all your friends?”

“You’re not my friend,” Felix points out. “And I’m fucking you.”

“I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do with that,” Chan says, exhaling laughter.

“You should come visit me,” Felix says. “During a long weekend or something.”

“Your parents are gonna ask questions,” Chan says.

“You’re from here,” Felix argues. “You could just say you’re visiting an old friend.” 

“That’s true,” Chan acquiesces, retaliating by adding a second finger. Felix’s jaw drops open and satisfaction boils hot in Chan’s stomach. “Maybe I will.”

“You better,” Felix says, somehow still sounding all sharp and demanding despite the strain in his voice. “I don’t wanna wait until Easter to fuck you again.”

Chan can agree with that, at the very least. “That’s true, it’s a while to wait. And calling isn’t the same.”

“Mm-mm,” Felix agrees. “Not unless I commission a replica of your hands. Or your cock.”

“I don’t think even that would be enough for you,” Chan says, and Felix giggles.

“Probably not,” he admits. “Can’t help it. I just want you.”

Chan fits a third finger in, pumping them viciously even though it’s tight just so he can watch Felix squirm. “Yeah? Like the way I fuck you?”

“Better than anybody else,” Felix says, and if Chan wasn’t certain he says that to everyone he fucks, he’d probably do something embarrassing. As it is, his dick twitches anyway. He pets over Felix’s prostate, so familiar now with his body that he doesn’t even have to search around for it. Felix shudders, muscles in his back tensing up. “Yeah, right there.”

“Here?” Chan massages over it meanly, pressing kisses to Felix’s spine and listening to him whine.

“Too much, Chan, gonna come again,” he protests, trying and failing to escape the sensation by shifting his hips. “Wanna come on your cock.”

That gets Chan to relent. “Fine,” he says softly. “Almost there.”

He finishes opening Felix up quickly, then pulls his fingers out and runs them under the scalding water for just a second to get them clean enough to open the condom packet without slipping. He rolls it on, adding another pump of lube for good measure, and then positions himself behind Felix.

“Put it in,” Felix demands the instant he hesitates. “I’m ready. And if I’m not, and I bleed, we can wash it all away.”

Chan doesn’t need him to say it again. He pushes past his puckered entrance and slides into the sweet warmth. Felix is tight around him like a vice, and Chan only gets halfway before he has to stop. “Shit,” he murmurs. “A little too impatient.”

“Keep going,” Felix insists. “I can take it.”

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” Chan says, but he does try to push in a little more, anyway. It works, sort of, and slowly, he manages to sink in the rest of the way. Both of them let out deep sighs when he finally bottoms out, pressed close to Felix’s body, so close he’s got Felix’s trapped against the wall.

“Fu-u-uck,” Felix moans. “I’m gonna explode. You feel so big, Chan. I think I can feel you in my tummy, against the wall. Feel like ‘m getting split open.”

Chan isn’t sure about that, but the idea makes him grit out a moan nonetheless. “Guess I should spend less time on prep more often,” he manages. “So tight, baby. Feel nice ’n’ full?”

“God, yeah,” Felix breathes. “Fuck, it’s like I can feel you everywhere.” His fingers catch on the grout between the tiles but slip down the wall all the same. 

“Give you a second before I move,” Chan mumbles. “Don’t wanna do some real damage.”

“Mm, kinda want you to,” Felix whimpers. “Ruin my body, daddy, I want it.”

“Fuck, babygirl,” Chan groans. “Want me to make it hurt?”

“Yes.” The word is a breath sucked in between bared teeth. “Please.”

Chan draws his hips back excruciatingly slow, letting Felix whimper for him for a second before pushing back in, fast and hard. The force of it punches a weak moan out of Felix’s chest. “Like that?” Chan pants, doing it again, legs shaking from the exertion and the delicious drag of his cock against Felix’s walls. “Fuck, you’re so tight, feels so good.”

Felix only sobs out a moan, the sound garbled by the echoes it makes and his slack jaw. Chan spreads a hand between his shoulder blades, pressing him into the wall and using his other hand to grip his hip so he has nowhere to go. Felix slumps against the tile, pink tongue just visible over his bottom teeth, eyes drooping shut. Chan hears himself grunt, something low in the chest, gravelly, reverberating around them. He slams his hips forward with every stroke, rough and mean like Felix begged for. Every movement sends spikes of arousal dancing under Chan’s skin, almost painful with how good it feels. Felix’s body loosens around him, but even then there’s hardly enough room, and Chan’s pretty sure that if he’d used even one less drop of lube that this wouldn’t be working. 

But it’s what Felix asked for, and as Chan looks at him, he knows he couldn’t stop. Felix’s face is twisted into a beautiful expression of bliss, eyebrows pinched and mouth open in a silent scream. His fingers rest gently against the wall, hardly supporting him. Chan can’t see, but he knows his cock is hard and leaking against his stomach, an angry red.

Chan can feel sweat beading on his forehead, partially from the steam, but he can’t reach the faucet dial now. They’re surrounded by a fine mist, and it kind of makes Chan a little dizzy. But he keeps going, fucking Felix ruthlessly, pounding him into the wall with soft groans as his abdomen tightens and tightens.

And then Felix is moaning, a low string of total incoherence, and he curls over himself, convulsing weakly, head disappearing between his shoulders and hands scrabbling at the tile above them. “Daddy, daddy, yes,” Chan thinks he hears him babble as he begins to still.

“Can you last a little longer, babygirl?” Chan asks, his voice rough.

“Yes,” comes Felix’s voice, his head still out of sight. “But daddy, hurts.”

His voice is wobbly, small and pitiful, and Chan knows the face he’s making. He’s sure he’s crying, cute little nose all red and cheeks splotchy. “So good for me, so patient,” Chan soothes breathlessly. He thrusts, shallow, a few more times as the hot pleasure takes over his body at last, making his legs shake. He comes deep inside Felix, hips pressed to his ass, head tipped back and hands with a punishing grip on his waist.

They catch their breath. Chan can hardly hear anything over the soft roar of the water. After a moment, he pulls out, almost stumbling backwards to turn the temperature back to something a little more bearable, rolling the condom off with unsteady hands before going back to check on Felix.

Felix is still bent over at the waist, leaning on the wall for support, forearm braced against the tile and face hidden in the crook of his elbow. Chan looks closer and sees pinkish-red at his entrance. Blood and lube.

“Oh, shit, oh fuck, Felix, I’m so sorry,” Chan stutters, setting the condom gingerly on one of the shelves and hurrying to him. He pets down his back, wondering how painful it would be if he tried to wash him clean. “Didn’t mean to actually hurt you. I’m sorry.”

Felix looks up, dazed. “What are you talking about?” he mumbles.

“You—you’re bleeding,” Chan says helplessly with a vague gesture. 

Felix just smiles, lazy and undisturbed. “I said I wanted it,” he says, tone serene and level. He peels himself off the wall, straightening as he goes, turning and wrapping his arms around Chan’s shoulders. “Mm, it felt good. So good, Chan, I haven’t come that hard in so long. Don’t be sorry. I don’t mind a little blood.”

“Jesus,” Chan says weakly, catching him and holding him close. “I still feel bad. Let me take care of it, okay? Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Chan cleans him out tenderly, pressing apologetic kisses to his low back and the swell of his asscheeks. Felix makes little hurt noises, but there’s just as much pleasure in his voice as there is pain, so Chan keeps going until the water runs clear. If Felix liked it—then Chan has to admit it’s a little hot. Still, a sort of prickling guilt settles under his skin. His memory of those moments feels almost blurry. He isn’t quite sure what came over him—just that Felix asked, and Chan, like always, said yes. 

At last, they turn off the water. Chan collects their mess, tossing the used condom and its wrapper in the trash and setting the lube on the counter. He dries both him and Felix off, then pulls on his underwear from before while Felix goes out into his room to find himself something to wear. Chan follows slowly, placing his clothes on Felix’s desk before joining him in bed.

Felix curls into his side, pressing sweet, openmouthed kisses to his chest. “Chan,” he says, soft and dreamy. “Thank you.”

“For nearly sending you to the ER?” Chan asks wearily. 

Felix giggles. “I liked it,” he says. “Felt so good. And you always treat me so nice after.”

Chan kisses the top of his head. “Of course I do,” he murmurs. “Least I can do after taking you apart is to put you back together.”

Felix giggles again, and they lapse into silence. Chan listens to Felix breathe–deep, measured, sated. He glances out the window, stroking Felix’s back absently. The sun is bright on the gardens below, a perfect day, almost unreal.

Finally, Felix speaks. “Chan?” There’s something strange in his voice, quivering and vulnerable. Chan blinks, suddenly curious and afraid all at once.

“Yeah?” he replies.

“Do you—?” Felix cuts himself off, his voice wavering still. He’s silent for a few long moments while Chan waits, scarcely breathing. He can hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He can feel Felix’s against his chest.

“What?” he asks, after a minute has passed and Felix still hasn’t said anything.

He can feel Felix deflate, and the tension is gone. When he speaks, his voice is slow and sleepy again. “Do you think you really can come visit me at school?”

Chan lets out a breath. Whatever Felix wanted to say, this isn’t it. But he won’t push. He knows that won’t get him anywhere. “Yeah,” he says softly, brushing some of Felix’s hair back before it falls into his eyes. He looks down at him, this terrible, beautiful boy. He’s not a monster, Chan thinks. He’s not even really spoiled, or at least that’s not why he acts the way he does. He’s just lonely. Maya’s voice plays in his head. He’s just really sad. And Chan still doesn’t know why. But he does know that whether Felix ever tells him or not, he’ll be here. “Of course, I’ll come visit,” he says. “Just say the word. I’ll come.”

Felix makes a happy noise, snuggling closer. Chan tightens his hold on him, feeling his pretty, lithe body under his arms. 

His life, he knows, will be in three parts, now and forever. Before I met you, he thinks. When I had you. And after you leave. How cruel, he thinks, that the most difficult part of the three will also be the longest.

[darthkvznblogs]

Since you're taking from the game Hades for the characterization of the chthonic gods, how different was the titanomachy for the Percy Jackson universe? Since in canon some chthonic gods, such as Hecate, were allied with Chronos... did best sleepy boi Hypnos betray the House of Hades? 👀

Well, remember that the events of Hades (and, I imagine, Hades II) took place in the past, some three-thousand years ago; personalities and attitudes can change, especially if - like many gods, Olympian and Chthonic - who joined Kronos' side, you've been neglected and mistreated as part of Zeus' preferred status quo. You'll also recall that most of the traitor gods were forgiven and allowed to rejoin under Percy's new status quo. The Greek gods are just one enormous, incredibly dysfunctional extended family.

Anyway, to your question, Hypnos didn't betray anyone, his son Morpheus did! Even if he was one of the unhappy campers among the minor Olympians and the Chthonic gods that considered joining Kronos' army - which I could see - Hypnos is just really conflict-averse (unlike Somnus, that guy is killer).

Frankly I think the most interesting prospect would be Melinoe, who's kind of a villain in PJO canon and canonically took Kronos' side; I'll have to see what her characterization and arc is like in Hades II, but it'd be kinda cool if I could work her into that antagonistic role without compromising what she was like as a heroic protagonist - especially since she'd be joining her ultimate antagonist this time around.

Can't really say one way or the other until I play the game, though!

[cleolinda]

Weekend links

My posts

Perfume: a twofer on the subject of Joy (1930, 2018, 2019):

The Scent of the Century

The dastardly reason they don't produce it anymore

I just wanted to post a Donna Summer video, and then I wrote an essay about disco surviving the night they blew up records in Comiskey Park.

Health conditions we have discovered to be connected to each other (generally via the immune system or diabetes): immune dysfunction, diabetes/insulin resistance, bipolar disorder, long covid, autism, ADHD, and polycystic ovarian syndrome, for starters. Guess who has fucking all of them. EVERYTHING IS CONNECTED pepe silvia string board dot jpg.

As Pride Month wrapped up, I found the post that helped me figure some stuff out several years ago.

Reblogs of interest

Julian Sands, who went missing on Mount Baldy back in January, has been identified

Oh boy, Twitter is genuinely unusable and I think Elon fucked it up for real this time

oh my god dril is leaving

Never not angry about what happened with Sleepy Hollow

TREE! LAW! TREE! LAW!

Video

Ghost Files: The Chilling Labyrinth of the Winchester Haunted Mansion

Los espookies: if you thought you heard it, no you didn’t

the feel when you realize Janelle Monáe is at your local Pride parade

Behind the scenes of "Bad Romance": SCAMPER

I truly assumed this was a parody: the single-sided jiggler

The sacred texts

RANDY YOUR STICKS

Personal tags of the week

Animal sounds, including one of my favorite subgenres, singing dogs

[frogofalltime]

23.02.2024

today i had no classes at all so i let myself sleep in without an alarm. i had around 10 hours of sleep and when i got up i felt a lot more well rested than i have in a long time.

i brought my notebook, pens, and ipad to the kitchen and got started with studying immediately after eating breakfast. this was a very smart idea because normally executive dysfunction means i procrastinate for hours between tasks, but today i had all the things i needed to do my work straight away.

i watched and took notes on a lecture that i missed last week, it was about jawless vertebrates (lampreys and hagfish) and it was very interesting. i drew lots of weird little creatures.

then i took a break to use the bathroom, pray, and eat lunch. i didn't bother getting changed out of my pyjamas, because i was feeling very sick from The Plague™️, and i wasn't planning on leaving the flat, and i also needed to shower before i could put clean clothes on anyway because i was a Stinky Rat Boy

after that i started working on a coursework project that i should've started months ago but it felt too daunting. it took many hours and i sent a few rants to @etherealspacejelly and @mollusc-consultant but eventually i got it done. there's just one more task i need to do for that project which is a mock interview, i am still putting that off because Autism™️, but the deadline is in just under two weeks so i have time. when i've done that it will hopefully be ready to submit.

i also looked on the university website to find out when all my deadlines are and i put them into my reminders app so i would not forget. this made me feel a lot more organised and on top of things rather than like i was drowning under stress.

then i put away my laundry which had been hanging to dry in my room all week; i didn't realise how much it was stressing me out until it was all put away and i finally had space to move around in my room again. you know what maybe marie kondo is right and an uncluttered home is the most important thing for mental health after all

after prayer time i decided to cook a proper meal for dinner and i called my mother while i did that. she gets worried if i don't talk to her a few times per week. little things did annoy me, like how she said "i always love hearing from my daughter", and when i compared myself to the cat saying i was "so sleepy all the time like meery" (because i keep having to take naps recently) she was like "yes he's a sleepy boy and you're a sleepy girl" :/ but oh well it doesn't matter.

i ate dinner and i was reading percy jackson when my Cool Gay Flatmate walked into the kitchen. she was wearing a really nice outfit which was similar to the kind of clothes i usually wear, and she's dyed her hair green and cut it shorter, and she has a nose ring and other piercings, basically she's exactly the kind of person i want to be friends with, but i Literally Never See Her because she's always staying at her girlfriend's house or visiting family and stuff. i have such a huge platonic crush on her :')

she noticed i was reading percy jackson and got excited about it and we both nerded out about it for a while, which was super fun !! she likes one of my special interests omg !! but she had to go because she was going to be late for something, which was sad because i really want to spend more time with her !! also i was kinda embarrassed because she always bumps into me when i'm like. in my pyjamas and sick and desperately need a shower. but i want her to see me when i'm wearing my daytime clothes and not Dishevelled™️ so she thinks i am cool aaaaa

then i washed my dishes and went to take a shower but it was hard and i procrastinated a lot. afterwards i felt a lot better though. being greasy and stinky is Not fun

i put on clean pyjamas and went back to the kitchen to eat a snack before bed. i have such a huge appetite recently, i can't stop eating, and it's kind of scary, but i am trying really hard to honour my body's needs. i ended up eating twice as much chocolate as i had intended to eat, but i have to remember that it's okay. i'm finally eating what my body wants after more than ten years of neglecting it and i think that's extremely important.

@parasite-2 sent robin a mathematics challenge and robin asked me to help, so i spent two hours puzzling over it which was So Much Fun. i forgot how much i enjoy doing maths questions. its probably also good for my brain, right ? maybe i should do this more often as self care.

then i finally went to bed, i changed my pillow case because i had just washed my hair and that's the Rules. i was feeling very ill again, i couldn't stop coughing and my back hurt a lot, so it took ages for me to get to sleep. i think i finally fell asleep around 2am.

[world-smitten]

What I'm watching

Summer Strike 1-5: I went into Summer Strike to compare it with Welcome to Samdal-ri, and found it so contrasting it borders on symmetry. Unlike Samdal, Yeo-reum, our heroine, is so anonymous that her mother's death feels like it never happened, this catastrophe barely puncturing the routine of her corporate grind. And Yeo-reum is a stranger to Andok, the sleepy seaside town she retires to as she tries to cherish time in her life again. There's fun perspective switching in the early episodes. Yeo-reum wanders through Andok with hazy whimsy, blossoms in the air, the sea; but the townsfolk are grounded in very specific interiors as they discuss and negotiate her place in their town. Already, without her even knowing, they've fitted her into the politics of their small world. Yeo-reum runs away to Andok to get her time back and she's very lucky that she can do that, because others are desperate to leave for Seoul. The synergy between Seoul and Andok is very real, and more nuanced than anything WTS tried to pull. Success isn't guaranteed in Seoul, peace isn't guaranteed in Andok, & happiness isn't guaranteed in either. Bom, the high-schooler she meets, needs an escape - her poverty and dysfunctional family feel magnified by Andok's smallness and the intense judgement of its people. Bom and Yeo-reum's sisterhood is so touching, and it wouldn't happen if Yeo-reum wasn't an outsider, wasn't presenting a vision of an adulthood not defined by desperation. I love them so much 🥹 The direction and performances are brilliant, especially Shin Eun-soo (Bom) and Park Ye-young (Ji-young).

No Gain No Love 1-4: Cannot believe how fun this show is. It hits its emotional beats with surprising effectiveness - I was seriously moved by the wedding, where Hae-young's foster siblings visit (and mourn) her mom, who can't remember them. And I vibe with its humour so much its almost embarrassing. Hae-young and her sisters are the perfect trio. People were lamenting pairing The Shin Min-ah with Kim Young-dae (very valid), & I was sure I'd enjoy the secondary couple more (with my fav Lee Sang-yi) - but that has not been the case! Kim Young-dae has outgrown the stiltedness that plagues these pretty boy actors, and his chemistry with Shin Min-ah is palpable. It helps that the show isn't afraid of sex and Hae-young is an assertive adult woman who knows exactly what she wants. NGNL isnt deep but its very honest and true to itself. I'd forgotten that you could write a romcom with characters that felt "real".

Perfect Family 1-6: My Sky Castle parents are back!! Kim Byung-chul & Yoon Se-ah have the most striking, photographable faces, which makes them the perfect pair for a gorgeously directed slow-burn thriller about two parents nestled in secrets, a mystery to their increasingly paranoid daughter. It's very slow moving so far, building up tension + expectations - I'm hoping what it's building up to is worth it. But I'm enjoying the slow-burn so far.

Beauty and Mr Romantic 1-40:

loll but in all seriousness, I've enjoyed my (re)discovery of charming Im Soo-hyang (which led me to check out My ID, one of the best things I've watched this year); I've enjoyed chatting abt it w/ the lovely people on Dramabeans, I've enjoyed the weekend check-in on this show's insanity. So it's not like I'm not having fun, but this show really, really, really doesn't want to be liked. I'm sure writer-nim is doing this on purpose - psychos outnumber sensible characters 6:1, and the writing goes out of its way to be as mean and low as possible. I never expected much from it, but there was a point where it was cute, and now it just seems determined to sink itself on its own aimless cynicism.

[merlinrarepairfest]

Round Up 5

Another week of marvellous fills finishes! As always, you can find them beneath the cut - leave our lovely creators some love <3

Title: Save a Horse, ride a Knight Writer: Laevateinn Rating: T Warnings: N/A Medium/Word Count: 1k Pairing/main characters: Gwaine/Percival Up to 10 tags: Canon Divergence, Gwaine admitted he was of noble blood, Percival came to Camelot to work, Tournament, Favours, Gwaine is oblivious

Summary:

Imagine a world where Gwaine admitted being of noble blood and stayed as a knight, long before he actually does in the show. What if, in that world, he and the other Knights of the Round Table had met differently? What if Percival, for example, had decided to travel to Camelot and work there? Where he would have met Gwaine, and worked with him? Surely, these two can stay professional, or simply friends, right?

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51384994

---

Title: the gold and the rust Writer: Shana_Rose | @shana-rosee Rating: T Warnings: None Medium/Word Count: 1,176 Pairing/main characters: Mergwenthur Up to 10 tags: Mergwenthur, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Post-Battle of Camlann, Hurt Arthur Pendragon, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, POV Merlin, Sleepy Cuddles

Summary:

The bright light of early morning hit aggressively against his eyes. Merlin winced, scrunching his eyes in hopes of the light going away. He pressed his head further into his arm, resting on top of the soft sheets of the bed. His back was aching from sleeping in a chair. Just as he wondered why he would sleep in such an uncomfortable position, he bolted up. His breath caught in his throat as he turned his head towards the head of the bed. - Arthur survives Camlann.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51432988

---

Title: Jealous of him, I want to be yours Writer: HadrianPeverellBlack | @evadne01 Rating:  General Warnings: N/A Medium/Word Count: fic/ 1,891 Pairing/main characters: Merlin/Gwaine, Merlin/Lancelot, Gwaine/Merlin/Lancelot Up to 10 tags: POV Gwaine, Protective Gwaine, Protective Lancelot, Supportive Lancelot, Supportive Gwaine, Powerful Merlin, Jealous Gwaine, Pining Gwaine, Post-Season/series 03, Pre Season/Series 04

Summary:

Gwaine is jealous. Not of Arthur, because even if he and Merlin are basically joined at the hip, it's obvious that the royal numpty has no idea about Merlin's magic. No, Gwaine is jealous of Lancelot, because he's the only one who does know.

AO3 link:https://archiveofourown.org/works/51174415

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Title: The Best Way to Cover Something Up… Writer: sleepygecko Rating: General Warnings: None Medium/Word Count: Fic/1999 words Pairing/main characters: Merlin & Mordred & Morgana Up to 10 tags: Child Mordred, Mordred moves to Camelot

Summary:

When Merlin helps the little Druid boy escape the guards, they flee to Morgana’s chambers. Together, they come up with an epic sob story to cover up the boy’s sudden appearance, something so emotional that Arthur “emotionally dysfunctional” Pendragon won’t look too closely at. Welcome to Camelot, Mordred of Ealdor.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51462367

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Title: Stolen Moments Writer: Lemon_pH Rating: T Warnings: No Archive Warnings Medium/Word Count: 2,5k (2544) Pairing/main characters: Gaius/Uther Pendragon Up to 10 tags: Canon Era, Merlin/Arthur is a background, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: 

Those are just moments in the vast fabric of life. But we cherish them, keep them close to our hearts, Because at the end, they're all that we have of each other.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51023428

---

Title: powerful Writer: I_think_he_knows | @marlenemckinnonsuppremacy Rating: Explicit Warnings: No archive warnings apply  Medium/Word Count: 1127 words Pairing/main characters: Gwen/Arthur/Merlin Up to 10 tags: BAMF Merlin, Merlin is powerful and everyone knows it, BDSM, Smut, 

Summary:

Gwen has always felt Merlin has a powerful vibe about him, which she finds very sexy. When she marries Arthur, upon finding out they are both attracted to him, they invite him to their bed or to be their partner. Gwen tells them about a fantasy she’s had since they were all younger: Merlin taking her, and claiming her as Arthur watches, tied up and unable to do anything about it or pleasure himself.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51062878

[idkanametoputhere]

I have collected another 10 screenshots from the ignyhide book so here we go again (except I barely moved on with the story cause I was stuck in a battle lmao)

obviously spoilers, again

LOOK AT THEM!!! MY BOYYYYYS!! SO PRETTYYYTT!!!

now to the dysfunctional ones, I don't even remember why this was a screenshot I took but pop off riddle, u tell him

AZUL!! DONT LET RIDDLE GET HURT!! I BARELY KNOW HOW TO COOK BUT I WILL LEARN HOW TO COOK OCTOPUS AND I SWEAR TO ANYTHING HOLY I WILL FIND U AND COOK U

stfu jamil idc if ortho is literally being a criminal rn, do NOT be rude to my boy. u are already in thin ice because of ur whole existence (although I do like jamil but shhhh) so stfu

ortho. my love. my baby. my sweet boy. my ray of sunshine. my soul. I can't keep defending u dawg

I AM SO FUCKING LUCKY OMFG SUCK IT U FUCKING ELSA MONSTER WANNABE BITCH SHHAHAH THATS THE PHANTOM LUCK BABYYYYY LESS GOOOOO(I'm a liar and a hypocrite, I'm so unlucky it hurts)

little sleepy boyyyyy awwwssndhdhsjnsbdgdudk

I changed my name from Phantom to Phan (aka my nickname) cause I have my name set as phan in many other games but goddamn it is so weird seeing it oh my god

they sound like my grandparents when telling stories from their youth

HE DID WHAT NOW???? AND FOR HOW LONG????? SJDGJSJSJSJS?????

that is it for today, I swear I will write for soon, spring break is coming up for me sooooo yeah I will write then