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myheelsdontmatchmysweatpants · 4 years ago

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A/N: I would like to preface this by letting everyone know that I am in no way knowledgeable about actual science things. That being said I am amazed that in a random draw I actually managed to get a prompt that had to do with flowers lol. This is my contribution to the BakuHarem Collab! Please take a second to check out the other contributions here!

Warning: bad science, no protection, swearing, overs!mulation, accidental exhibti0som, intoxicated smut? idk sex pollen is a drug i guess.....

W/C: 3.5k

“Bakugou, dude. We should not-”

“Shut up Kirishima!” Bakugou walks through the sterile hallways checking every corner for signs of other people. “That bitch took my top spot with some bullshit flowers?!” He finally gets to the lab that was granted to you for your research. After winning first place, stealing first place in the UA university science expo. He walks into the observing lobby, looking through the large window to make sure you weren’t working in the lab after hours.

“Just keep quiet and listen for any one coming this way.” He walks over to the security door and holds his key card up to it, the light on the scanner turns green and he hears the dead bolt slide open.

Kirishima is lingering behind him, hovering in the doorway. He turns to Bakugou to talk him out of this again but his friend has already entered the lab. “Ahh geez.” He didn’t even wear any safety gear.

As the door clicks shut behind him, Bakugou stops to examine the lab. Several different species of flowers in full bloom behind temperature controlled enclosures. Some of them are recognizable; lavender, chamomile, and jasmine. “I thought it would smell like the perfume department, this fuckin place smells like heaven.” Guess it wasn’t a new shampoo she was using then.

He walks through the aisles turning his head this way and that, trying to find something, anything that he can fuck up without it being overtly obvious. He gets to the back corner of the lab and sees a piece of familiar equipment. “Perfect.”

*****

“He said WHAT?!”

Your roommate flinches at your reaction to her news. “He told Professor Aizawa that your ‘Viagra flowers’ are a joke to the science department and they should ‘wither and die’.”

You’re fuming. That fuck tard Bakugou, mister my shit don’t stink is ridiculing my research? “All that man knows is how to blow shit up! Just cause I beat him in the expo this year, he thinks my research is a joke?!” You stand up from the couch, pacing in front of it and you can’t decide whether to scream or cry. “Why did I ever like that twat?”

Cause he has wide shoulders, big hands and scarlet eyes that -

“Oh for the love of god shut up.” Screw your inner thoughts.

Ochako watches you pace, worrying in her eyes when yours line with silver and your neck flushes bright red. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have told you that.”

You stop moving and look at her, guilt flooding through you as she slumps forward. “Don’t apologize, I was talkin to myself babe.” She nods her head weakly and you stand up straight “I’m gonna go.” You walk to the door grabbing your coat and key card.

“W-where are you going?” Ochako follows you to the door and grabs your wrist gently. You turn to her and smile, she was always so sweet but you knew that if shit went down she would be right beside you, kicking ass.

“I need to blow off some steam, so I’m gonna go check on my ‘Viagra flowers’.” She huffs a laugh and let's go.

“Alright, don’t stay too late.”

You nod, put on your shoes and leave the dorm. It’s a bit of a walk to the building the lab is in and hopefully the cool breeze will calm your mind.

*****

As you walk into the building you are grateful that your professor is more of a night owl than most students. Considering how many naps he takes during lectures it is no wonder he can’t sleep at night. You contemplate going to his office to say hi but think better of it.

Don’t wanna end up venting about Bakugou to my professor of all people.

You walk down the hallway and notice the door to your lab is cracked. Not unusual, a lot of students from your class have been coming and going to see the different species of flowers and plants you are growing. Assuming someone didn’t shut the door behind them you take your phone out of your pocket to check the time. Out of the corner of your vision a quick flash of red and you walk right into Kirishima, Bakugou’s friend and one of your classmates.

“Hey! How- how's it goin?”

You take a step back, rubbing your nose from face planting into his giant chest. Does this guy eat boulders for breakfast? “Hey Kiri! Just gonna do some late night tests! You checkin out my garden?”

“Yeah! Flowers are pretty.” He laughs, it’s high pitched and obviously forced.

You take in his nervous appearance, the fact that he is still standing in front of the door and your mood sours.

“Where is he?”

Kirishima looks like he is gonna try and stall but one look at the fury in your eyes and his head hangs down. “He’s in the lab,” you rush past him and punch in the code to open the door. “I tried to talk him out of it!”

The door clicks shut and the spiky blonde huffs in annoyance somewhere in the back of the lab.

“I told you shitty hair, if you’re gonna keep a look out you have to stand outside.”

You clear your throat and his head shoots up. You walk over to him, taking note of all of the plants and equipment, taking note of anything that looks different. As you get closer to him you notice that he smells particularly good tonight.

Keep it in your pants idiot

“Really Bakugou?” You stop a few steps away from him, noticing the various disassembled parts on the counter top behind him. “What were you gonna do, break my extraction equipment and make it look like a malfunction? Are you a B-Movie villain?”

He stands up and you are reminded of how small you feel next to him, wide shoulders, arms barely fitting the t-shirt he was wearing, strong chest that tapers to a toned waist. He laughs and you look at his face. What I wouldn’t give to just lick from your navel to your neck.

“A B-Movie villain huh? That’s rich coming from the fanfiction cliché scientist.” He crosses his arms, your eyes quickly dart to the sight of his biceps flexing with the movement then back at him.

“Fanfiction cliché? What the actual fuck are you talking about?” You take another step towards him, softly inhaling his scent. Why does he smell so good?

He laughs at you again, the sound caresses your skin and you realize your feeling very, very hot. You drag your fingers through your hair, your eyes zeroing in on a bead of sweat running down the side of his face. When you lick your lips and shift to take another step closer a small part of your brain connects the dots. “What. Did. You. Do?”

Bakugou looks at you, noticing your flushed cheeks and eyes that show you aren’t quite your normal smart and sexy self. Reaching behind himself you hear the unmistakable sound of clinking glass, he grabs a beaker, an open beaker. “Just grabbed this from your equipment, I know how long it takes to extract this stuff. Would suck if it were to suddenly go missing.”

“You idiot! Do you know how potent it is in that form?!” You reach for it but he pulls the beaker out of your reach. “Why do you think I keep it enclosed? You have to close it up now!”

“Why should I?”

Honestly how stupid can this guy get?!

“Put it back in the enclosure first and I’ll explain it to you!” Your breathing is getting heavy, the closer you get to Bakugou the hotter your body feels. You lunge for him again and trip, he hurries to put the beaker on the table behind him and catch you. Put off balance from the position you both crash to the floor with him underneath you. Sighing in frustration you lift yourself up only to bump your head on the table, knocking over the beaker and spilling the extract over you both.

“Shit!” You scramble off of him and run to the door, pressing the exposure button and effectively locking it. You turn to Bakugou and back up trying your best to keep your distance. “Stay on that side of the room, if we’re far enough apart the effects won’t be as bad.”

“What are the effects?” The question is spoken so calmly that you almost convince yourself he didn’t speak at all.

“What are the fucking side effects!?” His shirt is soaked, sticking to his tanned skin. The outline of his chiseled body makes your mouth go dry. You look back at his face, his mouth twisted in frustration at your silence but no less attractive. The sharp angle of his jawline, pink lips slightly chapped, aristocratic nose, scarlet eyes that-

“Take a picture, it'll last longer.” Shaking your head to clear some of the fog in your brain, you focus on him again.

“It’s an aphrodisiac so obviously it enhances sexual desire.”

“Yeah-yeah, sex pollen I get it. But what else?” he rings out the bottom of his shirt, lifting it slightly and you avert your eyes.

“It is not sex pollen, I don’t even use the pollen of the plant.” the last part coming out in a mumble. “The aphrodisiac only works on people who are consenting adults that are attracted to each other.” You clear your throat.

Bakugou freezes for a moment and looks up at you, examining you. The flushed skin, short breaths, and how you keep as much distance between the two of you as the small lab provides.

“So why are you so far away then?” The smirk on his face is sinful as all hell.

Cheeky bastard.

“Surely I don’t have to spell it out for you.” Resisting the urge to turn your face away from him like a pouty child..

“HA!” The smug look on his face momentarily lifts the cloud of lust and replaces it with anger. “Of course you’re attracted to me, who wouldn’t be?”

“Well, aren't you a cocky bastard?” Hoping you're not about to embarrass yourself you take a chance and muster up some courage. Slowly walking up to him you notice that his forehead is glistening with sweat, his breathing heavy, ears and back of his neck flushed with pink. “Tell me, Katsuki. How are you feeling?”

A few steps and you can see his hands balled up in white knuckled fists, a few more his jaw clench and unclench. Once you are only an arms length away you can see him swallow harshly, Adam's apple bobbing, nostrils flaring. You push your breasts against his toned chest, the light friction causing a moan to escape your mouth, the sound going straight to his cock.

“I’m - I’m fine.” Bakugou clears his throat, the sound of his first name from your lips sweeter than it should be.

“Lookin a little flushed, you feeling hot?”

He doesn’t answer, his attention captured by the closeness of your body, your lips, the tops of your breasts peeking out of the v neck top you’re wearing.. He stops breathing when your tongue flicks out to lick your bottom lip.

“Cat got your tongue?”

On impulse his hands move to rest on your hips, eyes never leaving your lips. “What was the question again?”

“How. Are. You. Feeling.” you walk your fingers up his chest with each word before pulling his head down so you can whisper in his ear, the anger fading fast. “Katsuki.” You hear him growl, the sound reverberating through your core, then you're being picked up.

“I’m gonna ruin you.” Bakugou crashes his lips to yours, pressing you up against one of the walls and bracing you with one hand so that the other can wrap around your throat. “Fuck, you drive me crazy.” He bites your lip, licking it to soothe the hurt. “Smart, funny, sexy, beautiful.”

You whine at the words and grind against the bulge in his pants, your pussy throbbing with need. “Need to feel you touch me Bakugou.” He stops moving and you shift to try and grind against him again but he holds you tight, slightly squeezing the sides of your neck.

“What happened to calling me by my first name, baby girl?” Loosening his hand and crouching down as if to put you down you sputter out “Kat-Katsuki Please touch me.”

The feral grin on his face has your pussy drooling and you all but sigh in relief when he stands up straight and slips a hand under your shirt, cupping one of your breasts. “Oh god yes.”

“You’re so soft baby,” he pulls one of the cups down and rolls your nipple in between his fingers. “Take off your shirt, wanna see those pretty tits.”

Katsuki keeps playing with your nipple when you rip your shirt off, making short work of your bra and tossing it. As soon as the other nipple is in view he dives down to suckle it, his mouth hot. You throw your head back, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and pushing your chest out to give him better access.

He is merciless in his teasing, alternating between breasts, making sure to suck each nipple till they are both hard peaks. Kissing the top of your soft globes, your collarbone and neck, everywhere his mouth goes is left with a mark in varying shades of red and purple.

You grow impatient with him, needing to make him feel as good wanting to feel him with your hands, mouth, teeth.

“Wanna feel you too Katsuki.” you whine as he pinches one nipple while nibbling the other one. When you pull on his hair a little he groans but lifts his head, pulling both nipples with him before letting them go.

“What do ya wanna feel, baby girl?”

With all your inhibitions throw out the window you lean down and whisper in his ear. “Wanna feel you fuck me.”

You pull away and he quickly sets you down, you’re about to object when he takes his shirt off in one smooth motion then starts unbuttoning his jeans. You rush to follow, unzipping your pants and pulling them down, before you can pull down your panties he grabs your hand stopping you. “Leave ‘m on.”

Katsuki picks you up again before you can get a good look at his cock, but when it's pressed against you there is no need to see it. “Fuck you’re huge.”

He smirks at you, smug pride in his eyes. “Glad you approve.” Reaching a hand down he pulls your panties to the side and runs his fingers through your wet folds. “This all for me?” bringing his fingers up to show you the slick dripping down them he puts them in his mouth and sucks. “Gonna have to enjoy that tasty treat later.”

Your body is burning up, breathing is heavy as you both watch him drag his cock along your wet slit before pushing in. Your moans echo in the lab and neither one of you cares as Katsuki's cock drags against your inner walls until bottoming out. Right now is not the time for slow strokes, not with the aphrodisiac flowing through both of your bodies, so he starts a pace that has your ass slapping against his thighs.

“C-cumming!” You scream out before your body bows in on itself and you're creaming around his cock.

“Already?” a sideways grin on his face Katsuki starts moving you up and down in time with his thrusts, his cock reaching that much deeper. “Gonna cum for me again? Come on baby, wanna feel you milk my cock.”

Your mind is going blank, the only thing running through it is Katsuki. “Please don’t stop,” you dig your nails into his shoulders. “M Gonna cum again.” His thrusts go shallow and the head of his cock drags against your walls, hitting all the right spots.

You’re repeating his name endlessly, the only word that is in your mind then you’re cumming again. Your legs tense around his waist and your pussy clenches down hard enough that he has to stop moving or risk hurting you. He watches your face contorted in pleasure and starts thrusting as soon as he feels your orgasm subside.

“One more.”

Your head fuzzy, body limp from two orgasms. “I can’t!”

“Wrong,” Katsuki pulls out for a second, setting you on the floor and pushing on your back. You obediently bend forward grabbing the edge of the counter top and he wastes no time in rutting back into you. “You want me to stop?”

“NO”

“Then you got one more beautiful thing.” He sticks two fingers in his mouth, getting them wet then reaches around rubbing soft circles on your puffy clit. His other hand gripping your hip, before moving up and grabbing your shoulder using it as leverage to fuck into you harder.

“Come on, cum for me.”

You turn your head to the side trying your best to look in his eyes, yours tearing up at the overstimulation. “You cum too, fill me up Katsuki.”

“Oh fuck yeah.” Bending his knees he thrusts up into you and with the new angle, teasing circles being rubbed on your clit and the feral moans coming out of his mouth you cum one last time.

Fuckfuckfuckfuck

Katsuki cums after you, rope after rope of cum coating your fluttering walls.

You both stand there catching your breath. Katsuki pulls out and you whimper, “Oh don’t worry beautiful,” he picks you up again, walks over to a chair and sits down with you in his lap “not done with you yet.”

By the time you are spent both of you are exhausted and lost track of how many times either of you came. He helps you stand up, quickly pulling your panties back in place. “Don’t want you leakin.”

You giggle and pick up your clothes from the floor, he helps you get dressed and you both walk to the door. Making sure to check the air quality before leaving the lab you confirm that nothing is left in the air and unlock it. Before opening the door you turn to him opening your mouth to ask a question but he talks first.

“Let's go back to my room, yeah? I’ll help you clean up.” His voice rough from moaning and growling but you can see a small smile on his lips. Even though you know that the effects of the extract have worn off you can’t help but worry that he is still under their influence. Nodding your head you turn away from him again and open the door, walking into the lobby.

“I assume you're finished with the lab?”

You stop dead in your tracks, Katsuki bumping into you. “P-professor Aizawa?” Red hair peeks out behind him and Kirishima looks at you both with a nervous sharp toothed smile and red face. The fog of your memory clears and you vaguely remember hearing knocking on the window and door while you were… indisposed.

Katsuki steps in front of you, from the lack of red on his face or neck you know he isn’t nearly as mortified as you. “How long have you been standing there?”

The tired eyes of your teacher examine both of you. “Long enough.” He sighs heavily and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You are both to meet me in my office tomorrow morning.”

And just before you can’t get anymore embarrassed he walks out and says over his shoulder. “The labs aren’t sound proof, and these walls echo.”

@doinmybesthere @patchworkpuzzle @eyebagsbutglam @sugarspiceanddynamight

#bnharem collab #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bnha katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki x y/n #katsuki x reader #katsuki x you #bakugo x y/n #bakugo katuski x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x reader #bakugo mha #bakugo katsuki #bakugou x you #lilliths masterlist #lillith writes

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sunshineseung · 4 years ago

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Overdue // Bang Chan

🍄 | genre: smut (18+ !!! minors DNI) ☁️ | pairing: Stray Kids Bang Chan x gender neutral!reader 🌿 | wc: 2.1k 🌸 | includes: public sex (library/restroom), sub!chan, dom!reader, anal vibrator, handjob (giving), orgasm control, cum swallowing, praise, degradation, humiliation, practically no aftercare... sorry chan

☀️ | synopsis: Of all the people to have a crush on you, it had to be the sweetest, most innocent boy in your class, didn’t it? Channie’s always so adorable and kind. There’s no way you’d ever be able to ruin him... unless he gave you the chance, of course.

Everyone knows Chan has a crush on you. He doesn’t hide it nearly as well as he thinks. He’s usually the cutest, bubbliest boy on the planet, but around you he’s super quiet and shy. Although that might seem like a detriment to his chances with you, his meekness only makes him hotter, or at least in your perverted eyes.

There’s something primal inside you. You see this adorable, sheepish man and there’s a demon in your brain that tells you to ruin him. From what you hear from other people, Chan is very inexperienced, which makes you want him more. You don’t want to scare him away with your despicably naughty thoughts, and yet there’s something in his eyes that gleams when you look at him, and you know he feels it too. In your head, his innocence is all a façade, and you’re the only one that he wants to put him in his place.

There’s no time for that now. Finals are coming up and you have to study. The crowded library has students and strangers at every table, some with friends and others, like you, alone. Lucky for you, Chan is sitting alone across the room perfectly in your line of sight. His presence makes studying easier just because whenever you want to take a break, you can look at his pretty face.

Chan’s eyes catch onto yours as you look at him with the primal hunger you assume he’s fearful of. His breath hitches, not expecting to meet your gaze, especially when you look so demented. He looks back down at his textbook, rolling his finger over the page while biting his lip, although you can’t tell if it’s an anxiety lip bite or a horny lip bite.

Chan meekly walks over to where you’re sitting while his eyes are aimed down the floor. His arm reaches out to you, handing you a small remote controller with no prominent markings to hint at what it’s for.

“What’s this?” Your voice is a soft whisper as you lean towards Chan to make sure he hears you. He bites his lip and walks away, sitting back behind the desk as if nothing happened. His nose is buried in his book again before you have time to fathom what’s going on.

Shrugging, you put the controller on your leg before going back to your book, reading through a few pages before you catch a glimpse of the mysterious controller in your peripheral vision. The ambiguity of the situation is giving you a headache, and Chan’s shyness isn’t helping at all. You know you won’t get an answer from walking up to him and asking, so you take the remote in your hand after setting down your book.

The remote has two arrows: one facing up, and another facing down. The only logo on the control says a brand name you’ve never heard of. Your thumb hovers over the topmost arrow as you internally argue with yourself whether or not you should press the button. As you apply pressure to the button, you look at Chan. If this tiny machine controls any sort of explosive, someone’s in for a surprise.

He shakes. He bites his lip and he shakes. That’s it? What is this?!

You press the button again, making Chan cover his face with his sweater paws. Another press and you hear his knee hit the bottom of the table causing the surface to bounce. His hands run through his hair before he puts them in his lap, looking directly at you as you hold the remote with a puzzled look on your face. His face is a bright shade of pink. You’re still having trouble connecting the dots.

Chan points down, signaling for you to press the down arrow on the remote. You press down the button three times, undoing the damage you had done with the three other presses. Chan sighs and begins to walk over to your seat again. The only difference between last time and this time is that there was an evident bulge in his tight pants.

Chan kneels next to your seat, lowing his head since he can’t look you in the eye after seeing how you were eyeing his junk. “You know what that remote’s for?”

His voice is so soft and gentle that it makes your heart flutter. Despite his... problem, you can’t help but find him painfully adorable. Not wanting to speak too loudly, you just shake your head and look down at him.

“Will you follow me to the bathroom?” Wordlessly, you nod, him taking your wrist in his hand and practically dragging you to the public restrooms that were across the room. You don’t mind being behind him, though. He has a nice ass! He pulls you into a stall, his back against the door. “Promise not to tell anyone?”

“Chan, just tell me what this fucking remote is for.” You hold up the remote, pressing the up button right in front of his face. Chan bites his lip as you hear a light buzz from down below. The cogs are turning in your head as Chan just stares at you.

“It’s to control a vibrator,” he whines, “so if you could turn it down so I could talk-”

“Well why would I do that?” You turn it up, pressing the up arrow four times before seeing Chan writhe and almost fall to his knees, his legs shaking as he cups his erection in his pants. “Tell me baby, why’d you give me of all people this remote?”

“Y-you’re hot, and you’re c-cool... and I like you.” Chan pulls you into a hug, his arms tightly around your waist as you hug his shoulders. His head is right on your shoulder, nuzzling into you while the vibrator continues to, well, vibrate. “Please fuck me, Y/n.”

“Pull your pants down, big boy. Let me see where this vibrator is, yeah?” He nods at your command, backing up off of you and undoing his pants before dropping them to the floor. His underwear is just plain white briefs, but you can see his cock pressed against his tight underwear, a nearly perfect outline of his tip visible to you. He pulls his sweatshirt down, covering his bulge as you eye it. “Hey, no need to be shy! Do you want to stop?”

“No! No! It’s just embarrassing.” Fuck, he looks adorable. “I didn’t expect to get this far, heh.” Chan’s little laugh is so cute, and you can feel your cheeks heat up. He sighs and pulls his underwear down, his cock popping out, fully hard and already dripping with precum. “You want to see th-the vibrator?” He turns around, hands against the stall wall as he bends over. You can see the vibrating plug in his ass, his legs shaking as he feels more venerable than ever. “Is this good?”

You don’t respond. Rather, you grope Chan’s ass, spreading his cheeks apart to see the outer part of the vibrator in all it’s glory. You can see the power button on the end, but there’s no way you’re pressing that right now. One of your hands leaves his ass and goes to his cock, stroking from the base to the tip like you’re milking him for his cum. His body gets a chill when your finger runs over his slit. He wants to moan out so bad, but being in a library bathroom, that might not be the best idea right now.

You turn up the vibrator more, testing it’s limits. Already on the 6th highest setting, you want to see how far you have to take it before he cums. Chan’s breathing is erratic and heavy as you continue to jerk him off. He looks so weak in this position, but you want to make eye contact.

“Sit on the seat, baby boy.” You back away from him and turn off the vibrator from the remote, all of the pleasure leaving his body at once. Although he wouldn’t dare tell you, he was getting close until you stopped. He whines loudly, a little too loud, and right after you shut the lid to the toilet, he sits down and spreads his legs for you to get between. The vibrator feels even deeper in his ass now just from sitting. “Good boy~”

“This feels so dirty.” Chan’s eyes wonder everywhere but your face. He’s too embarrassed to even look at you right now. On the other hand, you’re staring directly at his lips, his bottom lip slightly red from his teeth. As filthy as this is, you’re too aroused to care.

“You’re the slut that wore a vibrator to the fucking library.” You lean up to his face, putting your hand on his chin to practically force him to look into your eyes. Tears well as his embarrassment fills his body, legs shaking just from the dominating look in your gaze. Chan could melt just from your aura. It’s astounding to him, how drawn he is to you despite your disinterest in him. “Don’t you have any shame, Channie~?”

“Please turn up the vibrator.” Chan’s cock is visibly throbbing between his legs, the leaky tip begging to be touched by someone who knows what Chan wants better than Chan himself, you. You laugh like a villain in a cartoon and turn up the vibrator, going up to the 6th highest setting just like before. He immediately raises his hips off the seat before you push him back down by his shoulders, your lips finally connecting with his.

With your hands snaking down his body, Chan’s mind is clouded with this overwhelming sense of neediness and wordlessness. There isn’t a thought in this man’s head aside from his cock and how slutty it feels to get a handy in a bathroom stall. Speaking of which, how did you get your hand there that fast? And why does it feel so good?

Chan moans loudly, “G-gonna cum.”

“Already?” You sigh, your hand relentlessly stroking him while you spit on his dick for more lubrication since his precum isn’t enough. “Dumb boy can’t think of anything other than cumming. Just hold it for me, alright? Or else this is all the action you’re getting from me.”

No, no, no! He can’t ruin this. He’s waited what feels like millennia to finally be touched by you. Chan takes a deep breath and tried to control himself, part of his sanity returning to him for a brief moment before you amp up the vibe, still firmly resting in his tight little ass. Chan screws his eyes shut, certain that if he were to look you in the eyes in this moment, he’d blow his load.

“Fuck, you’re so cute, baby.” You’re basically drooling over the sight before you of the innocent Bang Chan letting you corrupt him. It feels way too good to be his first, like you’re guilty of a crime you don’t regret committing. “Good boy, such a good boy.”

Chan’s whimpers get louder to the point you have to shush him and remind him this is a public restroom. Despite nodding as if he understand, his sounds just get louder.

“You ready to cum now, cutie?” At your question, Chan hums a soft yes and continues his melody of whines. “Well, we wouldn’t want to make a mess, would we?”

You get on your knees and between his legs, your soft lips wrapping around the head of his cock as you continue to jerk him off. Chan’s eyes shoot open, the visual of your mouth on his cock overwhelming him, not to mention the increasing intensity of the vibrator thanks to your generosity with the remote control. Unable to hold it in any longer, he cums down your throat, the thick ropes filling your mouth with their bitter-salty taste. The taste doesn’t matter to you, though. You’re just happy to swallow.

As Chan catches his breath, you get off of your knees and rub off any dirt from your pants. “Give me your phone.”

“Huh?”

“Give me your phone, Bang Chan.”

“Alright...”

Chan reaches in his pocket to pull out his phone and hand it to you, not before unlocking it of course. You go into his contacts and add your phone number. “Text me sometime, okay? I’d like to play with you again, baby boy.”

“S-sure.” Chan awkwardly stands up before realizing his pants are around his ankles still. He pulls them up as you step out of the crowded stall, walking back into the library. There’s still plenty of people here, and they all stare at you as you go back to your seat.

Chan certainly didn’t help in easing their suspicions, his curly hair matted to his forehead from sweat and his pants laughably crooked.

Maybe next time you should teach him how to clean up after sex.

🌼 | navigation 🌷 | taglist: @binnie-m00n @crispychanenthusiast @fanchengsgf @minholuvs @minniehohos 🌵 | don’t forget to like and reblog if you enjoyed :) thank you!

#kpopcatalog #kpop smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #bang Chan smut #Chan smut #Christopher bang smut

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johnsamericano · 4 years ago

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𝓓𝓪𝔂 12:

ℓєє мαяк

23 days of NCT masterlist.

taglist: @notbeforelong @mrcarbonatedmilk @unknown5tar @whathamelon @ajhdr @curieouscapt @silent-potato @gjheaaa

warnings: baby daddy mark, hidden pregnancy (?, tooth rotting.

“Dude, isn't that y/n?” Mark’s old friend, John, pointed at you.

Yeah, that was most definitely his ex. You were holding a small girl between your arms, helping her reach for a box of lucky charms. You looked just as beautiful as three years ago, even more, he daresay.

“Go talk to her.” His friend elbowed him. “I’ll go get the meat, maybe you can invite her to our barbecue.”

“We haven't seen each other in a while, don't you think it'll be a little too weird?”

“Go for it, I know you're still hung up on her.”

“How...?”

“I heard your last girl complaining about how you called y/n’s name while having sex with her, it was hilarious, to be honest.” Mark punched him in the arm, earning a small groan from the tall man. “But seriously, though, you broke up with her to focus on your career. Now that you have a stable job, what's stopping you from getting her back?”

“I don't know, man...”

“Give it a try, I'll be with the butcher if you need me.” He winked at the Canadian boy, making his way to another aisle.

Mark took a deep breath before his feet finally started moving. You were placing the small girl in the shopping cart’s seat, tickling her tummy while at it.

“Y/n?” Your eyes almost came out of their caves as you heard his voice.

“Mark...” You stared at him with wide eyes, looking back and forth between the little girl and him. “I thought you’d moved back to Canada.”

“I came back a year ago.” He fiddled uncomfortably with the rings adorning his fingers. “I really wanted to contact you, but since things between us were a little complicated when I left...” By complicated he meant breaking your heart and leaving a day after ending things between you.

“It’s really okay, Mark. No hard feelings.” You smiled sweetly at him, your pretty eyes turning into half moons.

“And who’s this little one? Your niece?” He caressed the top of the girl’s head, who wasn’t even aware of his presence, too focused on getting rid of the wrapping around the chocolate you’d just bought her.

“Actually-”

“Mommy, I need help!” Mark froze.

“Oh, sure sweetie.” You tone completely changed when addressing her. “Mark, this is my daughter, EunHee. Say hi, baby.”

“Hi, Mark.” She extended her hand as you tore the wrapping of the chocolate bar open. His surprised expression turned into a big smile, covering her small hand with his significantly bigger one. “Look, mom. His cheeks are just like mine!” She poked Mark’s cheekbones.

You could almost feel a drop of sweat rolling down your forehead.

“Wait, you're right.” The Canadian man pointed out as your daughter smiled at him. “That's crazy.” Thank God Mark was so naive. “So where’s the father of this little bean?”

‘Right in front of me.’ You thought.

“She doesn't...”

“Oh, sorry. It must've been hard raising her on your own.” He reassuringly placed a hand on your arm. “How old is she?”

“Uhm, s-she’s-”

“I’m this old.” EunHee interrupted, showing her three small fingers.

You hoped Mark’s brain capacity wouldn't be enough to connect the dots. But you had to admit, it was pretty obvious.

“Wow, you're so big.” It was heart-warming watching your daughter interact with her father for the first time, even if they didn't know the truth about each other. “So, we're having a barbecue at my place today. There’s always room for someone else, and you can bring EunHee if you’d like. My address is still the same.”

“I’ll think about it.” You handed the chocolate bar back to your daughter, who didn’t even take a second to eat up the whole thing.

“Alright, I guess I’ll see you then, maybe.”

(...)

“Mark’s hitting on a mom!” Yuta mocked him, causing the whole garden to erupt into laughter.

“And what’s wrong with that? She isn’t married.”

“Mark, you literally just met with her again after three years, slow down.” Jaehyun interceded, eyes stuck to his phone.

“Guys, stop messing with Mark. He's always loved y/n, so let him be.” Johnny spoke from the grill, turning around a steak. “Besides, I saw the little girl. She looks a lot like Mark, so I bet no one would be able to tell they're not actually related.”

“How old did you say she was?”

“Three.”

“Okay, don’t be mad at me, but did you ever have sex with her without protection?”

“What are you trying to say, Haechan?” Taeil asked bitterly.

“Just think about it, guys. It makes sense.” While his friends discussed the possibility of him being a dad, Mark’s head was rather busy trying to remember every little detail from the last time he was intimate with you.

But as much as he tried, he couldn't remember having worn a condom. And as far as he knew, you weren't on the pill.

The doorbell cut his string of thoughts, snapping him back into reality.

“I’ll get the door.” He didn't expect you to be behind it, holding your -and possibly his- daughter’s hand tightly. “Oh, hey.”

He seemed uncomfortable, had you made a mistake in accepting his offer?

“Hi, I couldn't find someone to look after this little monster. I hope your friends won't mind.”

“Not at all, they love kids.” He stared intensely at your daughter, finally noticing those similarities Johnny mentioned before. “Come in.”

He guided you all the way to the backyard, everyone greeting you with a big hug.

“Nice to see you again, y/n.” Johnny murmured, patting your back.

“She’s like a little doll!” Jaehyun squeaked excitedly, sitting your daughter on his lap. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“I’m EunHee.” He cooed at her high-pitched voice tone. “Your dimples are pretty.”

“Thank you.”

The boys seemed completely comfortable with your daughter, fighting with Jaehyun, who wouldn't let go of her.

“Can I have a word with you?” Mark came from behind you, making you jolt at his sudden presence.

“Sure.”

He walked you to the kitchen, away from the noisy men outside. He anxiously twisted his hands, trying to find the correct words to demand for the truth.

“What’s wrong?” You asked worriedly, taking a step closer to him.

“Is EunHee mine?” Well, you were definitely not expecting that. You thought that after meeting him at the supermarket, your secret was safe. Apparently, it wasn’t. “By the look on your face, I’m guessing she is.”

He groaned in frustration, rubbing his face with the palms of his hands.

“I’m sorry for keeping it a secret all this years. I won’t force you to step in and take responsibility for her, we can just leave and pretend this never-”

“What are you even talking about? Why wouldn’t I want to take care of my own daughter?” The frown on his face deepened. “Did you know you were pregnant when we broke up?”

Should you tell him the truth?

“I...” He looked at you expectantly.

Of course you should tell him the truth, he deserves it.

“Yes.” His heart dropped, guilt filling every inch of his body. “I didn’t want to hold you back. It would’ve been unfair for me to use that as an excuse to stop you from leaving.”

“So you’re saying I missed three years of my daughter’s childhood because you didn’t want to be selfish?” With every word his voice grew louder, shouting by the end of the sentence and catching the other guests' attention.

“Mark, we should talk about this another day, when we’re alone.” You tried leaving, but his hand clutched your wrist tightly.

“No.” You could admire tears sparkling in his eyes. “I don't want to miss another second of her.”

“Mommy?” Just then, EunHee walked into the kitchen, holding Yuta’s hand. “I heard screaming, are you okay?” Mark nodded at his friend, as if signaling him he could leave.

“Yes, I’m alright, sweetie.” You swung her up in your arms, coming closer to Mark who had the sudden urge to hold his baby. “Are you sure about this? There’s no backing out.” You mouthed, feeling a pinch of relief as he nodded. “Baby, I’d like you to meet someone very special.”

“Who?”

“This is Mark...” She looked at you with her small eyebrows furrowed, she’d already met Mark. “Your dad.”

Mark honestly felt like crying, your daughter smiling excitedly as she urged you to put her down, letting her father hold her close to his chest.

“Mommy said you were lost.” He felt so warm inside.

“I promise not to get lost again, alright?” His lips pressed a kiss into her forehead, already enamored by the cheerful giggles erupting from EunHee.

You observed them with regret. If you'd told Mark you were pregnant before he left, perhaps he wouldn't be on the verge of tears right now, perhaps your daughter wouldn't have had to deal with her classmates’ non-stopping questions about her father.

“Y/n?” Mark called out for you. “C-can we have a family hug?” He moved his hand invitingly, making space for you to join.

You walked into his arms, every negative feeling vanishing as Mark embraced you, both of you trying not to sob.

“What do you want to do now?” He let go of you, using both of his arms to embrace EunHee.

“Make up for the lost time.”

#nct smut #nct angst #nct fluff #nct au #nct imagines #nct ot21 #nct x reader #nct #nct 127 #nct scenarios

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voidcat · 4 years ago

Text

— to yearn, and apricate

characters: albedo, you

wc & genre: 1.4k ops & modern au of sorts

a/n: hi hey hii so i've been pestering aqua (@pen-observing) with a genshin mafia au since forever n its like a plan of ours going on?? so it was gonna b one big thing with routes for various characters in the sense of romance, and maybe some 'extras' to follow... this was supposedly be an extra for albedo,, i got ahead of myself

Albedo is watching from afar, as he always does.

A man of logic and science, he watches with a keen eye at all times.

He observes, examines and when the time comes, he builds a hypothesis, only to test it out and follow a course of actions according to the results he receives.

Respected by many in Ordo Favonius, though more rumors and assumptions arise at any place he sets foot, Albedo is nothing if not careful and deducting.

Eyes fixated, he watches once again, turquoise eyes now trained on you.

To talk of or define your relationship with Albedo would be a rather tricky one.

Long past the “hello – hello” basis and few conversations here and there, be on foot or not, occur when needed. But that’s all there is to it: when needed.

Not that either of you seem to mind it; to some, it’s even a story of success that the blond doesn’t ignore or scoff at your presence before him.

And right now, Albedo is watching as you and Sucrose talk by the corner of the main hall. At one thing you say, she lets out a loud and cheery laugh, one not everyone gets to hear personally, (he would know, as he is one of the few lucky ones) and sees the way she looks at you.

Albedo wonders quite often what’s it like to feel.

He sees the way Kaeya and Sucrose look at you and wonders how they feel as they do so, how you must feel. Surely, you must’ve noticed the looks, as you return them in your own way too. Maybe, except for the times Sucrose longingly stares at you from the laboratory, as you converse with someone else on the other side of the room, unaware of the world going around you.

Albedo cannot help but wonder if there was ever a way he could possibly harbor those feelings his friends did, even just for a moment. Not necessarily on the same intensity, and definitely not necessarily toward you.

He thinks back to the night when Sucrose had too much to drink and talked about her university days; filled with joy, a hidden love somewhere and a grief that follows afterwards –as well as a hint of anger directed toward a third party, which piqued Albedo’s interest a little bit.

And though Albedo is bothered at how you appeared out of nowhere only to set your roots in deeper, your existence fits into the empty slots of the puzzle that was Sucrose’s, presented before him that night. The hicks, shaking hands, fists and the sudden change in her voice, hazy eyes staring at nowhere as if reliving a memory long gone. More spirited than ever; with such strong emotions carried in her chest and on her shoulders.

When it comes to Sucrose and you, the pieces fit into place. But for the rest, it only falls deeper in the light of day.

And it’s quite intriguing; how you first entered with a whim, only to display a sense of familiarity you shouldn’t be carrying, no, not when you’re new to all of these, to the people of Mond as of today, to Kaeya’s little side project Albedo prefers not to think about.

Your explanations to these only make way for more questions, even if you don’t mean so.

When Albedo observes Kaeya and you, he can see how his advances stand out more. Flirty banter back and forth, he never holds back his gaze. In his star kissed eye, Albedo can see hints and tints of some emotions, for you and only you.

It’s the way they look at you that makes Albedo grow more and more curious.

To Albedo, the phrase “love makes you blind” has never meant anything. He has seen and heard of people claiming to fall victim of it, that’s as far as his knowledge goes. Albedo has never experienced it himself, no. Yet in their eyes, he sees the truth to the saying.

Some days, when he thinks on it, he fears he will never have the bare necessities to experience it.

However Albedo knows better, as he doesn’t need to experience such emotions to see how blinding you can be.

And for this very exact reasoning, he doesn’t allow himself to be, for he’d be damned if his blindness, even for a blink of time, caused despair upon those dear to him.

And so Albedo keeps watching, not with a devotion like Sucrose’s or something more carnal like Kaeya’s.

He is on the watch, noting and analyzing even the tiniest speck of dust that shall land on your body. As a man of science and logic, it’s only expected of Albedo to be skeptical of things, and wary of you, the newest entry to the equation that surrounds him.

The state of research carries until all of his gathering shatters with a single presence that makes his way into the precinct.

It doesn’t take him long to connect the dots; though the way you’ve frozen up as Sucrose is running around in a frenzy, split on what to do, is more than telling that the balance has been meddled with.

Reaching out a hand on your shoulder, he meets your gaze with a nod and tilts his head toward the direction of his laboratory. Sucrose follows right after, trying to tidy up a bit and making place for you to sit. Turning the lock with a click, Albedo shuts the whole world outside. Yet he manages to catch a glimpse of the man entering.

Baizhu’s name has spread far and wide, known for all kinds of things, though Albedo knows about the shadier side of his business, –all thanks to Kaeya’s little secret project going.

Still, it begs the question how or why you’d be associated with a man such as him, and to end up badly on your end, clear from the way your brain and body reacted.

Just as Albedo assumed he has started finding the answers to his questions regarding you, you bring him a handful more, a new challenge.

He shrugs off the thought for the time being and makes way to you; who is still standing up, eyes fixated on the blurry green.

Placing a hand on your arm this time, he guides you to the spot Sucrose cleaned out already. Slow steps, one at a time, it’s hard to beat the rigidity of the body so quickly.

Sucrose’s concerned gaze heavy on you, yet your eyes seem blank, your expression says you’re out of it, out of this reality.

Helping you sit and leaving Sucrose to settle right beside you, Albedo walks back, closer to the door and leans against one of the counters, arms crossed. For the time being, for your sake, he’ll put aside the theories and the questions that are filling his brain.

By the time Baizhu has left, you’ve come back to your senses; although still acting rather cautious, you’re not disassociating.

Yet what captures Albedo’s attention the most is the look you give him.

Not like the ones you’ve offered Sucrose or Kaeya, or the irritating ginger who won’t stop sticking his nose into everything he sees.

This one you are offering outshines others in more ways than one. Even if it carries a hint of love, Albedo doubts he could recognize it, but he spots emotions of equal value, and gratitude.

For offering the laboratory as a sanctuary or for refraining from asking the questions about a time you’re trying your best to avoid and move one, he is not sure. Maybe it’s this mutual understanding and shared silence the two of you have held since the beginning.

Yet he can’t help but feel content all the same. And before he can notice, a smile creeps up to his face. Though it’s often loving gazes shared between others that catch his eye, only to make him yearn for such experiences and a chance to feel complete; the one you are carrying, for him, feels heavy on him, a feeling in his chest spreading.

Not sure what, exactly.

Even so, he doesn’t need a name to appreciate this rare opportunity, one not even Sucrose or Kaeya had seemed to live.

Albedo has never understood the phrase “Love makes you blind.”

Yet in that moment, he decides he wouldn’t mind going blind if it is your light that’ll caress his eyes.

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fruitcoops · 4 years ago

Note

Could we please have a prequel to the praise kink fic? Because i really want to know why were Sirius and Remus not together and what did Remus send him. I really need context

I was hoping somebody would ask for this!! The aforementioned fic is here for any curious souls (18+ please) and SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for spicy texts (not exactly nudes), and smutty feelings with nothing explicit

The bus went over a bump and Sirius winced as his shins knocked against the back of the seat in front of him, connecting with the metal brace inside. “Fuck.”

“You sure you don’t want to switch?” James asked next to him. Sirius glanced down at the veritable wall of gear and empty snack bags between them, then back to James in disbelief. He shrugged, then set his headphones back over his ears. “Worth a shot.”

“Merde,” Sirius hissed as a pothole nearly took off his kneecap. He gritted his teeth and readjusted, drawing his legs closer to his chest. I want to be home, he thought, allowing himself an internal moment to whine.

He checked his phone—not even ten in the morning. It was a Saturday, so Remus would probably just be rolling out of bed, still sleepy and soft with his hair sticking up like a disgruntled cat’s. Sirius sighed heavily and stared out the window at the small town rolling past in the distance; there was little he wouldn’t give to be back with him instead of on the way to a full week of conferences.

“Why did we have to win the Cup?” he grumbled.

James lifted one side of his headphones. “What?”

“Nothing.”

It wasn’t like they had had much time to themselves before that, either—Sirius’ schedule was packed with interviews that felt more like interrogations, and Remus had been running the PT department mostly by himself while Moody took a well-deserved vacation. They were dead on their feet every night, worked to the bone with little energy left to do more than cuddle and fall asleep. Still, Sirius was grateful for every second of it.

He waited ten more minutes before giving in.

New Message To: Re

Bonjour mon loup <3

There was no immediate response, which made sense, though he was a little bit disappointed. Sirius closed his eyes and tried to make himself relax; it would be at least another six hours before they arrived at their destination, and the bad weather gathering overhead didn’t bode well for quick travel.

His phone buzzed gently and he scrambled to answer. Don’t be Reg, don’t be Reg, don’t be Reg—

New Message From: Re

Morning love!

Thanks for the bagels <3

“Fuck yes,” Sirius said under his breath. The bagels had been a last-minute decision as he crept through the house in the early hours of the morning after carefully detaching himself from Remus with a final half-asleep farewell kiss. There was no guarantee he would remember breakfast with everything going on, so Sirius figured it was a safe bet to toast them and leave them on the countertop before heading out.

Message To: Re

Pas de problem

Sleep well?

Message From: Re

Decent

Missed you :(

Sirius rested his temple against the cold window with a soft sound. He hated leaving at different times, but that was just how their life worked at the moment.

Message To: Re

Missed you too <3

Three small dots appeared for a long moment before vanishing without a trace just as his heart rate began picking up. Where’d you go? he almost wondered aloud. Something bumped his arm and James raised a quizzical brow. “Loops,” Sirius said by way of explanation.

“I figured. He okay?”

“I think so? He just…disappeared on me.” Sirius was well-aware of how plaintive he sounded—James’ teasing smile was completely unnecessary.

“Aw, Cap,” he laughed, reaching over to mess with his beanie until Sirius slapped his hand away. “It’s alright, buddy, it’s just a couple days.”

Sirius jammed his hat back on his head and flicked James on the unprotected bit of his ear, making him yelp. “Fuck off, I know you’ll be a mess as soon as Lily FaceTimes with my godson.”

“He has a name, you know.”

“Sorry. You’ll be a mess as soon as she FaceTimes with Pocket Pots, who happens to be my godson.”

James rolled his eyes. “I regret giving you that title.”

“Nah, you don’t.”

As if on cue, his phone lit up again; Sirius ignored James’ snickering as he quickly unlocked it.

New Message From: Re

When will you be at the hotel?

“That’s it?” he muttered.

Message To: Re

That was a lot of typing for one sentence

6-7 hrs, if the weather holds

Why?

Message From: Re

Sorry lmao Reg came in for a bit

Just curious :) Keep me updated?

Message To: Re

Will do <3

Tell Reg he needs to wash his sheets. It’s been over a month.

A small thumbs-up emoji was his only answer, and he tried not to be too bummed. Remus liked having things to do; sitting there and texting Sirius while he slowly got further and further away was probably not his preferred way to spend a morning. With a sigh that was likely a bit too dramatic for the situation he was in, Sirius faced the window once more and buckled in for a long ride.

He chatted off and on with the others when they stopped for lunch, but everyone was exhausted from the combination of a packed week and an early morning. Even Talker stayed fairly quiet, and James kept his headphones on for most of the trip.

Sirius finally succumbed to his tiredness and put some music on, then dozed for an hour or three while they traveled through yet another field. A few halfhearted calls of “cows” made their way around the bus, though nobody seemed particularly enthused about being packed in with double the gear due to a broken storage compartment. Donuts and gas station coffee could only do so much.

“Just crossed the state border,” Arthur called from the front of the bus as Sirius tried to ignore the cramping in his thighs. Three hours. Just three more.

His music was interrupted by a soft jingle alert and he pulled his phone out, hoping against hope that Regulus hadn’t caused a fire anywhere. It was unlikely given the…well, everything about him, but with Sirius’ luck it could happen.

New Message From: Re

How far?

Message To: Re

About 3 hrs. Ran into some detours

Good day?

Remus remained silent on the other end and Sirius frowned. That was rather rude, and highly unusual. Between the two of them, Remus was the one who kept conversations going past the initial question to be answered.

Message From: Re

Attachment: 1 Image

Love you! Call me when you get there : )

Sirius opened the attachment and almost threw his phone in utter shock. Skin. Bare skin everywhere, its smooth edges broken up only by tight black fabric that may as well have been painted onto the curve of Remus’ ass. “Oh my god,” he whimpered, voice barely audible even to his own ears. It had been taken in their bedroom mirror; Remus looked over his shoulder, and Sirius caught the corner of a devious smirk on his lips. “Oh, you fucker.”

Message From: Re

Thoughts? They’re cozy

Message To: Re

Did you miss the part where I said three (3) hours

Message From: Re

Nope

Second one is a guessing game and u get a prize if u get it right : )

The second photograph was more zoomed-in than the first and Sirius wracked his brain, running through his mental catalogue of Remus’ body to figure out the answer. It did absolutely nothing to calm the situation in his pants.

He had no idea what the promised prize was, but anticipation made his hands shake slightly as he carefully scanned the picture. The shadows caught it at an odd angle—it wasn’t the steady slopes of his face or neck, nor was it the strong curve of a shoulder. Not enough freckles, either, he thought.

A lightbulb lit in the back of his mind.

Message To: Re

Right hip

Another thought connected half a second later.

Holy fuck you took them off

Is that my prize?

Re?

Remus Lupin I swear to god

TEXT ME BACK

Message From: Re

Bingo!

Christ you’re impatient, I was gone for like 2 mins

He chanced a look toward Pots, whose head lolled to the side as he snored.

Message To: Re

Hey quick question why are you like this

It’s a good thing Pots is out cold bc this bus is too small to hide anything

Message From: Re

Haha sux to be you

Sirius’ cheeks heated with a whole cocktail of different emotions as he furiously typed a response.

Message To: Re

‘Sux to be you’???

Are you 13 yrs old????

Message From: Re

Do you want your prize or not u horndog

Message To: Re

YOU MADE ME THIS WAY

He took a deep breath through his nose and flexed his fingers.

Yes please

A simple smiley face—Sirius would never see those things the same—popped up, followed by an audio file. He triple-checked that his headphones were plugged in before tapping ‘play’ with an unsteady thumb.

His face went very, very hot before all the blood went straight to his groin and he closed his eyes, covering his mouth with his hand. Breathy sounds came through the heavy earphones, a little more crackly than they would be in-person; he heard Remus’ gasp catch in his throat and crossed his legs as best he could in the too-small seat, torn between thanking and cursing any higher power. He could practically see Remus’ face in his mind’s eye as the noises continued, intermixed with fragments of desperate words.

The file came to an end after what felt like the blink of an eye and a hundred years, and Sirius did not look away from the violently red seat cushion in front of him for a long moment as his brain came back online. He couldn’t remember the last time he was so turned on.

He took a few deep breaths, though it did nothing to erase the poorly-muffled whines that still rang between his ears like church bells. Sirius huffed and turned to grab his waterbottle out of his duffel, only to make direct eye contact with Finn across the aisle.

Sirius froze.

Finn grinned.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he hissed, too low to wake James but just loud enough to carry over the four feet separating them. Finn’s smile widened. “Stop it. Stop it right now.”

“How’s Loops?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“That good, huh?”

“O’Hara, I swear to god—”

“Oh, is Cap spilling secrets?” Kasey asked, poking his head over the back of the seat.

Finn opened his mouth, but the force of Sirius’ glare must have been enough to at least intimidate him a little, because he shook his head. The smug Cheshire grin remained. “Nah, just having a chat about our plans when we get home.”

Kasey groaned. “You’re a lucky man, O’Hara. Both your people get to come with you. Nat sent me a promise, like, twenty minutes ago and I can’t stop thinking about it. I won’t be available tonight from six to eight if anyone was wondering.”

“Did she really?” Finn looked back to Sirius, who bit the inside of his cheek and tried to keep his cool. Two and a half hours, and then he would be safe. Just two and a half more hours.

217 notes · View notes

evolmaze · 4 years ago

Text

bts hyung line find/hear your confession

summary - hyung line finds or hears your confession

pairing - jin x reader, young x reader, hoseok x reader, namjoon x reader

genre - fluff, angst, comfort

word count - 3.1k words

warnings - some angst, otherwise pretty harmless!

a/n: parts for the maknae line will be out soon!

masterlist

JIN

You had spent weeks racking your brain for some sort of answer, for an explanation why you suddenly thought your friend and neighbor from down the hall was the only person for you. It had happened so quickly, you didn’t even realize. One night you’re watching a movie together, something you’ve done at least once a month, and the next thing you know your heart is racing at the idea of him being in the same room as you. You had no idea why you started to feel this way, but the instant you realized, you couldn’t stop yourself from constantly watching him, thinking of him, wondering what in the world you were gonna do.

You were currently on the phone with your best friend, complaining to her for the hundredth time about how rude it was that Jin thought it was perfectly normal to walk around the laundry room shirtless, “I mean come on f/n, he’s so hot it should be illegal. The man has the body of a god, and I as an innocent bystander should at least be given a warning before walking into it!”

“What do you mean ‘walked into it’?” she asked, amusement in her voice, and you groaned.

“I was doing laundry the other day, and I ran right into him as he was leaving the room, I dropped my clothes everywhere, and he totally saw my underwear and bras, but that’s not the point, the point is that he was shirtless, he was laughing at his clumsiness, and it was the hottest thing I had ever seen.”

It was at that moment that Jin had walked up to your door, preparing to ask you to borrow your hammer, when he heard your voice faintly through the wall.

“F/n, I don’t know what to do, I’ve literally never felt this way about someone before, and it’s not like I can even say anything, we barely know each other--yes I know we’ve hung out before, but everything feels different now, I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’ll probably pass out the next time I see him, and if he’s not wearing a shirt again, oh my fucking god, plan my funeral please.”

Jin laughed quietly, deciding he could ask for the hammer later, he had other plans to attend to, like making sure to ask you about this supposed incident the next time he was in the laundry room; shirt conveniently off for your viewing pleasure.

YOONGI

“Hey I have a question,” Yoongi mused, turning down the radio. You and Yoongi were on your way to a cabin up north, planning to meet some friends there for a fun weekend getaway. You’d been on the road for almost two hours now, and he had decided that it was time to break the silence that had settled between the two of you.

“Yeah what’s up?” you asked, closing your book, and setting it in your bag. You waited as he beat his fingers rhythmically against the steering wheel.

“Who’s Voldemort?” you froze in your seat, and turned to him slowly, gauging his expression. How the hell did he know about that?

“Why do you ask?” you said slowly, thankful for your sunglasses that hid your panicked expression.

“When you asked me to grab your bag from your room, there was an envelope addressed to ‘Voldemort’sitting on it. Do you have a pen pal or something?”

No, no you did not have a pen pal. Stupidly, you had written your feelings to Yoongi out on paper, an ode to all the boys i’ve loved before. You planned to store it away forever, never to be read again, in hopes of riding this stupid crush from your heart. All you wanted was peace, and the ability to hang with him without the looming cloud of love stalling over your head, but you must have forgotten to put it away before you left.

“Uh, no, no it’s not that,” you muttered, trying you best to sound nonchalant. “Just a letter I was writing to someone, probably won’t send it though.”

“Their name isn’t actually Voldemort, is it?”

You laughed, “No it’s not. It’s a pseudonym, my friends and I used it all the time to talk about boys we liked in middle school.”

Yoongi sat in silence for a second, and you hoped that that was the end of the conversation. “Do you like this Voldemort?”

You paled, and cleared your throat. “Uh, I don’t know, it’s complicated. I’m trying to get over them, so it’s probably best to not talk about it.”

Yoongi nodded, and didn’t say much for a while, and you assumed that was the end of it, thank god. The drive went on in silence, and you calmed down a bit, mentally cheering for evading a disastrous situation. You even talked with Yoongi about other topics like the weekends upcoming events, and how excited you were to try this new soju flavor. It was nice, peaceful, and definitely less stressful then the previous conversation. That was until you both started talking about college and first impressions. You had been explaining your thoughts on your other friends Namjoon and Lia when he stopped you.

“Wait,” he said suddenly, “Didn’t you and Lia have nicknames for everyone?”

“Yeah, we made up nicknames for everyone based on Harry Potter characters...” you said, trailing off on the end as you connected the dots.

“Yeah!” Yoongi exclaimed, oblivious. “Like yours was Ginny, Joon’s was Lupin, mine was..” he paused, looking over at you suspiciously. “Mine was Voldemordt, right?”

You shook your head, “Noooo, yours was something else I think.”

“Hmm, no I’m pretty sure it was Voldemordt,” he said. “Cause you and Lia always joked about how I was pale just like him,” You didn’t say anything in response, instead finding the dirt under your nails way more interesting.

“Y/n...” he called, pulling you from your thoughts. You didn’t look at him, too embarrassed to talk about it. “Hey, it’s fine, seriously.”

“Ah, can we please not talk about it,” you whined, putting your head in your hands. This was so awkward. You had written a middle school crush letter to the man sitting right next to you, and you still had to spend the whole weekend and ride back with him, great.

“Okay,” he said simply, tapping rhythmically on the steering wheel again. “I guess I’ll just have to wait to read it.”

“Oh no way, you’re not reading it!” you yelled, facing him as adrenaline raced through your veins. “I’m burning it the second we get back.”

“But why? I wanna hear all the nice things you said about me, you never compliment me in person.”

“Shut up,” you said, a blush blossoming on your cheeks. He laughed, lightly swatting your knee.

“So mean,” he teased. He lifted his hand to pull your hand from your face. You looked up, surprised by his action. He was never one for skinship, especially with you. “You know I’m joking, right?”

You nodded, “Yeah, no, I do, no worries, it’s fine”

“Good,” he said simply, bringing his hand back down the arm rest, except he hadn’t let go of your hand, so yours followed suit, held in his grasp. You stared intently at your intertwined hands, and then looked at him, confused. He was staring straight ahead, but you could see the smile forming on his face, and the red hue on his cheeks as well. Looks like you weren’t the only one with a secret.

HOSEOK

Hey y/n! Do you have a copy of the notes from last class that I can borrow?

You smiled at your phone, Hoseok had definitely slept through class again this week, and as always, you were more than willing to share notes, any excuse to talk to him, right?

Yeah for sure! Give me one sec and I’ll send you a link to my notes

You had always preferred to take notes on your computer, you could type way faster than you could write, so in fast-paced lectures it just made sense. You found the document within a folder the two of you shared information. With Hoseok consistently sleeping through one class every other week, and you having such detailed notes, it made much more sense to just put all your notes in a folder he could access. You found the latest document with your notes, and quickly shared it with him.

Just sent it now, it’s in the folder with all the other ones in case you need them too! Let me know if you have any questions!

Sounds great, thank youuuuu!!!

You grinned at his response before going back to your studying. He usually had questions, so you were a little surprised when he never texted you back. You figured maybe he understood it better than you, and made a mental note to ask him some questions next time you saw him. You went about the rest of your day, finishing up your homework, getting your laundry washed and put away, and four hours later, still no word from Hoseok.

“So weird,” you mumbled to yourself as you grabbed your keys. You had talked about meeting him for dinner tonight, so you wondered if he was still up for it.

Hey are you still up for dinner tonight? Hope studying is going well!

After 10 minutes, and no response, you grew worried and annoyed, so you decided to just walk over to his place yourself. The walk was short, you jammed the whole way, wondering what you’d get tonight, and hoping that your professor would put out grades soon. Walking into the dorm, you passed a number of doors before standing outside Hoseok’s.

You knocked three times, and waited patiently for him to answer. The door creaked open slowly, and you watched as his head appeared in the crack. He stared at you and said nothing.

You cleared your throat, “Uh, hey. I texted, but you didn’t answer, are you still down for dinner tonight?” He said nothing still, and you sighed. “It’s fine if you’re busy, I can go. Text me next time you’re free to hang.” You didn’t mean to sound annoyed, but you were hurt, confused why he was acting this way all of the sudden, especially with no explanation. Waving goodbye, you turned on your heel and walked down the hallway. You made it about three steps before he called out your name.

“Y/n, wait, I’m sorry.” turning around, confused, you saw him open the door. “Please come in.” He gave you a half smile, and you sighed, ignoring the smile that sat on your face as you entered his dorm. It was dark, his blinds were drawn, and it looked like a hurricane had come through here, which was odd since he was usually so clean.

“Hey what happened here? Everything okay?” you asked, worried, when you turned to face him he was standing by his desk, computer in hand.

“I--I, um, need you to read this,” he said, handing you his computer. You raised an eyebrow, and turned the computer around. As your eyes adjusted to the bright screen in the otherwise dark room, your heart dropped into your stomach.

It was about a week ago when you wrote a letter to Hoseok. It was 2 in the morning, you were so tired, but you couldn’t sleep, the whirlwind of thoughts running through your mind were too much to handle, so you wrote them all down. Wrote down everything you wanted to say, and closed your computer, never intending to read it again. What you had failed to notice that night was that you created the document inside a folder, the very folder you shared with the man in front of you. You had carelessly titled the document to hoseok so it’s no surprise that he clicked on it, he probably thought it was a funny message to him, but instead he got a look right inside your heart.

You looked up to see him already watching you closely. He looked pained, confused, and most of all angry. “Why would you say those things?”

“I, I, uh--” you paused, you knew at the time it was wrong to write them. He had a girlfriend, they’ve been together for almost a year, and they were so happy together, and you had no problem with that. You loved Julia, and had even introduced the two, but you also couldn’t help how you felt, you had no intention of him ever reading this, you felt awful. “I swear, I didn't realize this was in here, Hoseok I’m so sorry.”

“But you wrote it, and put it in this folder, you must have known I would have seen it at some point.” he protested, coming closer to you.

“I swear, I didn’t do it on purpose, I opened it in the wrong folder, I, oh my god, Hoseok I swear to god I never wanted you to read that.” you said, tears filling your eyes. You had jeopardized everything with your carelessness. He took the computer from your hands and set it on the desk. You couldn’t look him in the eyes as he sat next to you on his bed.

“I believe you,” he said quietly, and you nodded. “I’m sorry there’s not more I can say.”

You shook your head, “Why are you apologizing, it’s not your fault. I was the one who put it in the wrong folder. At least the worst part is over though,” you laughed weakly at the statement, the worst was far from over, but at least you could stop staying up at night wondering what he thought about you. “I’m sorry that you’re in such a weird position, I promise that I’m working on it, I’ve been trying to get over it.”

“You don’t have to apologize for what you feel, y/n.” he said, standing up in front of you. “This is nobody’s fault, let’s go get dinner and talk it out, yeah?”

You smiled at his attempt to smooth things over, you agreed, but a part of you wondered as you walked out the door how long it would last before you grew distant and never spoke again. For now, you’d cherish these last few memories with him, and always remember the times before it.

NAMJOON

“Just say it,”

“No!”

“Why not?!”

“Cause I already told you no!” you sighed in annoyance, flipping through another page in the magazine you were currently reading, or trying to read at least, until Namjoon showed up and rudely interrupted you.

“Come on, y’n, I need to practice!” you laughed at him, practice? What in the world was he thinking?

“You’re not seriously saying you want to practice this,” you said, setting down the magazine and facing him. He looked at you, and you realized he was serious. “Ugh, fine.”

He grinned, happy that he had finally convinced you to help him out. All of this started about a week ago when Namjoon caught wind that a girl in his bio class had a crush on him, the man absolutely lost it, so flustered and confused, he didn’t know what to do. You felt like you were watching a cheesy romantic comedy with the way he came to you, pacing back and forth in your living room. He was totally clueless, had no idea what to do, and came to you for help. You had been around the block a time or two when it came to dealing with situations like this, so it was no surprise that he wanted your expertise on how to politely reject someone.

It wasn’t that the girl in Namjoon’s bio class was awful or anything like that, it was the fact that Namjoon barely had time to live his own life, let alone make room for someone else. You were lucky if you spoke to him once a week, you practically had a heart attack when he showed up today. He explained to you the rumor he had heard, and how he had also heard that she was going to confess after their next class together. All of that combined was enough to stress the man into oblivion, so he desperately asked for your help.

“y/n thank you so much, I just don’t want to hurt her feelings, you know?”

“You’re literally the nicest person I know, there’s no way she would leave feeling anything but mildly sad, knowing you, you'd probably offer to pay for her bus fare home.” The look on his face had you laughing as it looked as though he was seriously considering it. “I’m kidding, Joon. Don’t do that.”

“What?” he said, “I definitely wasn’t gonna do that.”

You smirked at his obvious lie, “Whatever, let’s get this over with.” Taking a breath, you tried to get into character: a biology girl who likes Namjoon. “Hey Namjoon,” you said, trying to sound flirty and leaned casually on the side of the couch.

“Hey, y/n-”

“Don’t use my name,” you laughed, “use her name.”

“Oh okay,” he said, and he took a breath before looking into your eyes, “Hey, Emily. What’s up?”

“Nothing much, I actually had something I wanted to talk to you about,” you said, getting up from the couch, and walking over to where he stood by the kitchen island.

“Oh what’s that?” he asked, moving away from you just a bit. Your act must have been spot on, you smirked.

“I have feelings for you, Joon.” you said, trying to sound nervous and excited, however the hell someone sounded when they admitted their feelings. You were never one to discuss such personal topics, probably the reason why you were single at 23, but whatever, you liked it that way. Poor Namjoon looked terrified, and you’d take being single over being the cause of a situation like this any day.

“Oh,” he said simply, and you raised your eyebrows at him. “I-oh, I’m sorry, y/n--Emily, I’m way too busy for a relationship right now, I’m sorry.”

You grinned at his attempt, it was weak, but you’d work on it. By the end of the night, he’d be confident and sound sure of his feelings, you could feel it.

“Okay,” you said, patting his shoulder. “That was good, but next time sound more sure of yourself, your reasons are perfectly valid, and if she’s as nice as you say she is, I’m sure she’ll understand. Again.”

#bts imagines #bts fluff friends to lovers #bts fluff imagines #bts #bts hyung line #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #jhope #jin #yoongi #namjoon #jin imagines #yoongi imagines #rm #namjoon imagines #jhope imagines

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kim-seungmine · 4 years ago

Text

moonlit

title: moonlit

characters: fem!reader x lee minho (lee know) of stray kids feat. bang chan, kim seungmin, hwang hyunjin, kid!yang jeongin

genres: exes to lovers au, romance, angst, based on eternal sunshine of the spotless mind, chan’s one sided love if you squint real hard, bff!seungjin.

warnings: cursing, mentions of drinking and food, mentions of insecurity/emptiness, minho is lowkey a flirt (and smooth af), this one is WORDY, sometimes nonlinear (flashbacks marked in italics, phase 2 completely happens in the past), lots of inner conflicts, watch me repeat the same words again and again.

word count: 14k

synopsis: after a nasty breakup, you have lee minho clinically erased from your mind... only to be reminded that while memories can be erased and forgotten, feelings will always demand to be felt.

Phase 1: Awakening

You clamp your shaking legs together, desperately trying to look like you’ve got it all together. The carton box on your lap feels heavier with each passing second as you wait for your name to be called. When the receptionist finally tells you to enter the consulting room, your head is full of him. His laugh, his voice, his touches, his smile, his empty promises, his lies, his last words…

This is why you’re doing this. You want him gone.

“Miss Y/N, please have a seat.” The doctor, Seo Changbin, motions at you to sit at the back of the room. A nurse places a tripod in front of you, setting the camera so it will capture your whole body. “Your sessions will be recorded, and we will keep all the recordings as archive. These recordings are confidential unless they’re needed for national security purposes. And, of course, if you wish to get your memories back in the future.”

Dr. Seo smiles, the calming tone in his voice doesn’t match the weight of his words. “You… you can restore the memories back?”

“I can’t,” he answers. “Patients are usually able to remember some past memories when triggered. And at least you will be reminded of why you want to do the erasure procedure in the first place. There are a lot of patients who regret doing this, and the last thing we want is to get sued because people make the wrong choices for themselves. I’m sure you have already read that part on the consent form.”

Great, you’re going to stop him from messing with your head by letting strangers literally damaging your brain.

“I won’t sue you. Let’s get this over with.”

“Sure.” Dr. Seo points at the camera. “Now, tell us everything, starting with who you want to erase.”

You grip your box tighter, as if to check if all the things inside still cause you pain no matter how many times you’ve seen them. You could have done this the normal way—crying, cutting your hair, even turning to God for help.

The thing is, one of these days the pain is going to swallow you up, and then you’ll be left with nothing. Nothing but an empty shell.

You should have been able to do this the normal way, but you’re too weak. Can’t you be weak for once? You can, right?

Clearing your throat, you stare at the lens. “Lee Minho.”

“Lee Minho,” you repeat. Louder. Clearer. “I’d like to erase Lee Minho.”

Chan finishes his beer in one gulp while you’re still struggling to open yours. It’s a shame, really—you drink almost every week, he drinks twice a year. He tosses the now empty can to the trashcan before opening another with ease, handing it to you. Mumbling a quiet thank you, you take a sip and watch him tear a pack of dried squids open.

“You’ll never go to those parties again,” he says. “I didn’t know my parents invited you because of that.”

You shake your head. “It’s fine. They meant well.”

He pulls his hair in frustration. “I can’t believe they said that in front of everyone! You must’ve been so shocked. I’m sorry.”

You grimace, the unwanted attention was indeed quite embarrassing. Enough to make you politely reject the next time Chan’s parents invite you to another gala. Mr. and Mrs. Bang have always been supportive of their eldest son, letting Chan started his own business instead of taking over the family business. Chan’s mother had called you a few days prior, asking you to accompany her son since it would be a good opportunity to “build connection and expand your business.”

You and Chan did exactly that, so it wasn’t like they were lying. But Chan’s parents also used the opportunity to try to convince the two of you that you’re match made in heaven.

“Can we drop this?” You glance at your watch, stretching your limbs before rising from your seat. The traffic light turns red and you signal at your best friend to walk faster. “I keep getting flashbacks of CEO Kang’s son laughing at us.

Chan follows suit, placing his hand at the small of your back before crossing the street. You let out a relieved sigh when you reach the warm subway station. “Kang Younghyun has more embarrassing incidents than ours combined,” he scoffs. “This is nothing compared high school. No worries.”

“You sure you don’t want me to take you home?” he asks as you train is arriving. “I should’ve brought the car instead of letting my parents drive us to the party.”

You click your tongue at him. “Then you’ll miss the last train.”

“I can take a cab home. You always fall sleep on the train it’s giving me headache!”

“Bang Chan.”

The train stops and opens its doors. “Fine,” he mumbles. “Just don’t fall asleep.”

“No promises!” you tease, stepping into the train a second before it closes. You wave at Chan until he disappears into a small dot before choosing the seat beside the door. The train is almost empty; standing near the door is a high school student listening to an online lecture and sitting across you is…. the most attractive man you’ve ever seen in your life. He meets your eyes for a second before shifting his attention back to his phone again, leaving you slightly disappointed.

You despise socializing at parties but you want the Hottest Man Alive to talk to you? Y/N you’re so pathetic.

The sight of a bundle of name cards inside your purse is what gives you a reality check, various names and faces are popping up in your mind. Only now you feel how exhausted you are, parties and talking to a bunch of strangers have never been your thing. You take your platform heels off just as the train makes its stop, one of them almost hitting Hottest Man Alive as a result.

Apparently God has decided to make you the embarrassment icon of the day.

“I’m so sorry!” you panic, about to reach your flying heel when he stands up and picks it up. He silently places it in front of you before pulling out a card out of his pocket.

“It’s okay, just check out our café when you have time.” Hottest Man Alive slips the card into your palm, rendering you speechless with his bashful smile.

Oh, you’re not going to fall asleep at all tonight.

You run your eyes over the black embossed letters once more, trying to calm your erratic heartbeat as you mentally convince yourself that he does want you to pay his café a visit. Your whole life has always been normal, so alarmingly calm and peaceful it makes you question your whole existence. Sometimes it feels like you’re living in someone else’s dream, foreign and temporary. Uncertain and insecure.

Last night was… weird, to say the least. You’ve never felt that attracted to someone before, not even your ex-boyfriends. In that moment, you felt unstoppable, carefree, happy… everything that wasn’t you.

Sadly, that moment didn’t last long and now you’re back to your overthinking self. What if he was just playing with you? Will he find you desperate or, God forbid, easy if you actually show up at his café? But what café owners don’t want a new customer? Besides, you’re bringing Chan, so Hottest Man Alive (or Lee Minho, according to his name card) is getting two new customers. If anything, he will be thanking you and hoping you will come again, just like any normal business owner.

“Hey,” Chan calls out to you, knocking on the car window. “We’re here, daydreamer.”

You shove the card back into your wallet, met with Chan’s confused eyes when you finally open the door. “You okay?” He cocks an eyebrow. “You look so out of it.”

Chan knows nothing about your encounter with Hottest Man Alive; he would’ve freaked out if he knew you wanted to visit a café because a random (handsome) stranger told you so. “Just thirsty. It’s so hot,” you mumble.

Eat Here Café gives off the homey atmosphere that immediately calms your nerves. You quickly scan the whole building, looking for any sign of Hottest Man Alive. You feel lighter yet bummed that he’s not there, except for some photos of him with a group of children pinned on the wall.

You choose a table near the cashier. “I’ll order. What do you want?”

Chan shrugs. “Any kind of cake.”

The puppy-like part timer greets you with a smile when you reach the counter. “Good afternoon, what would you like to order?”

“Injeolmi bingsu and Coke, please. Oh, and a vanilla cake!”

He repeats your order politely and you decide that you like the boy, taking a glance at his nametag that says Kim Seungmin. You never really pay attention to part timers before, but this one is remarkably efficient, polite, and very very cute (in a “I’d like to adopt him!” way).

You drop some cash into the tipping jar, the twinkle in Seungmin’s eyes feels so rewarding that you’re ready to put it into your “little things that made my day” on your journal later. He hands you the buzzer with a bright smile. “Please wait for your order!”

“Your stingy ass never gives such a generous tip. Did he flirt with you or something?” Chan marvels—loud enough to get Seungmin’s attention—when you return to your table. There are times when you regret being Chan’s business partner, but you realize that you’ve invested so much of your time and energy into building the company. That, and Chan is actually a dependable friend when he’s not trying to ruin your image.

Chan gets your order after the buzzer vibrates, digging into his cake right away. “Whoa this is good!” he exclaims. “How did you find this place?”

“…Instagram.”

“Do you think they hired a branding consultant already?”

You shake your head. “They post pretty regularly but I don’t think so.”

Chan’s eyes sparkle. “Do you think we should ask to meet the owner or something?”

“Hey Seungmin, iced Americano please! And remind me to pay your bonus later.”

The faintly familiar voice stops you from answering, your eyes wildly searching for the source. And there he is… the one you’ve been dreading to meet and also the one you’ve been yearning to meet. Lee Minho saunters into the café with his charming bunny smile and soft eyes, earning everyone’s attention except for Seungmin who’s still taking orders.

Seungmin only replies with a short hum, not taking his eyes off the cash register. You glance at Minho, mentally surprised by the way he doesn’t seem to be bothered with how Seungmin treats him.

“Quit staring before you start embarrassing yourself,” Chan warns you in the most boring tone. “I think he’s the owner.”

You almost spit out your drink. “I’m not staring!”

Minho exchanges some words with Seungmin before focusing his attention to all the customers. Your bingsu is melting, but you still follow his every move through your peripheral vision, not knowing whether you want him to recognize you.

“You really came!”

Chan points at himself, then at you. “Us?”

Minho shifts his gaze to Chan like he didn’t even notice the dimpled man was there whole time.

“Ah… y-yes,” you stutter. “This is very a nice café.”

One look at Chan and you know there’s no way for you to hide anymore. “He invited me!” you quip. “I mean, us.”

“Do you have anyone handling your social media accounts? Planning the digital marketing? Creating ads?” You have bombarded Minho with questions before Chan says anything, skipping the whole small talk step in “how to smoothly intrigue clients” manual.

Seungmin arrives with Minho’s iced Americano, putting the tall glass in front of him with no words before smiling at you and Chan. “Does any of you want anything else?”

“Yes, please,” Minho interrupts before you can refuse. “Please order whatever you want, it’s on the house.”

“Pulling the boss card, huh?” Chan jokes. “Then I’ll have orange juice.”

“Y/N?”

You didn’t have a chance to try the vanilla cake Chan ordered because he inhales food instead of digesting them, but the chocolate ice cream looks beyond tempting—

Minho chuckles. “How about our vanilla and chocolate ice cream?”

“Did I say that out loud?” you mumble to yourself, but proceed to thank Minho for his suggestions and tell Seungmin you’d like to have those. Minho flashes you a soft smile, almost making you melt on the spot if it weren’t for Chan’s leg kicking yours.

The conversation continues without any embarrassing incident. Chan lets you do all the talking, only adding further details when necessary while Minho asks you challenging but intriguing questions you answer passionately.

The so-called meeting ends with Minho promising to sign the contract by next week and Chan shaking your hand under the table, both confused and impressed.

“Is that why your employees are so relaxed around you? Because you just want everyone to eat and live well? I swear Seungmin didn’t even try to curse discreetly when you told him to wipe the counter for the 5th time,” you ask.

Minho laughs as the said boy exits his station, backpack slung across his shoulder. “Yes I’ll transfer your money after our guests leave. Don’t you dare remind me again!” the former yells playfully before the part timer opens his mouth. Seungmin bows to you and Chan before scowling at his boss. “You’re the one who told me to—nevermind. See you tomorrow, hyung.”

“I really like that boy,” you coo when Seungmin closes the door.

“I treat them as my friends,” Minho says. “I decided to do this because I just want to help everyone, including my employees. I don’t want Eat Here to be one of those expensive, pretentious cafes. I just want everyone to eat what they want, that’s why we have all sorts of things here. Combination of Eastern and Western, stuff like that. But this is still business, I have to do things to keep it running, right?”

You’ve met a lot of people with beautiful visions, but you’ve never met someone who wants something so simple yet complicated like Minho. It’s been quite a long time since you’re genuinely excited for a project, and now you know why Chan didn’t freak out upon knowing that you met Minho on the train.

“You guys can do whatever you want,” Minho adds, waving to a pair of part timers clocking in. “Are you going back to the office?”

Chan stretches his limbs. “Yeah,” he groans. “Gotta make sure our intern doesn’t jam the printer again.”

Your phone rings the moment Chan finishes his sentence. ”You jinxed it! Hyunjin is calling.”

“Whatever it is, wait until we’re back!” you whisper-yell at your intern.

“But noona, the printer—”

You give Hyunjin no chance to blabber about one specific printer and end the call. Minho giggles at your antiques, and you don’t have the energy to stop yourself from admiring his pretty features in the most obvious ways possible.

Chan pats your back before grabbing his phone and stands up. “I guess that’s our cue to leave.”

“Take these.” Minho writes your name on one of the paper bags, handing them to you with a big smile. “For everyone at your office. Thanks for reaching out to us.”

You peek inside the bag that has your name scribbled on it, not surprised to see both vanilla and chocolate ice cream inside—it’s the clear bottle that you’re curious about.

“Bye! I’ll send you the gym’s contact later!” Your best friend slash business partner waves at your new client slash crush from the driver’s seat. You take out the bottle, it’s filled with sikhye.

Your favorite drink, but Minho isn’t supposed to know that.

“Everyone deserves a fresh start. Don’t let anyone from your past haunt you. Start Erasure now.”

Minho mutes the television, heaving a sigh as he recounts his fateful meeting with you yesterday. The world has always been rather weird, he would say, but nothing defeats meeting his ex-girlfriend—his first love—who has no recollection of your time together. He heard from his former classmates that you sent them a message a few years ago, informing them that you would undergo the erasure procedure. According to his friends, you specifically told them to “never ever mention Lee Minho’s name or ask you about the procedure.”

You’re back in his life now, happy as ever, and the last thing Minho wants is breaking your heart all over again. He no longer owns that special spot in your heart, you owe him nothing. He left you insecure, disappointed and soulless, and now it’s his turn to be haunted by all the questions and what ifs in his mind.

His phone vibrates as soon as he flips the signage open, your name flashing on his screen. “Hey Y/N what’s up?”

“Minho I can’t multitask so please give me quick and accurate answer. I’m at the traffic light in front of Lotte now—”

“You need to turn left.”

“Okay… didn’t know my non-existent sense of direction is that obvious — damn, let me change lanes.”

Minho suppresses a chuckle. You’ve always been bad with directions.

“Turn left once more, and you’ll find us. We’re right across the first G25 store on the street.”

He steps out the café to welcome you when he spots a white Kia arriving. In contrast to his horrifying memories of teaching you to drive, you manage to parallel-park your car smoothly in 10 seconds, stopping Minho from offering to help you park your car.

“Sorry,” you grimace. “I suck at directions. Last week was the first time I went here and Chan was the one driving so I wasn’t really paying attention… and before you ask, no I can’t use GPS while driving. I barely managed to dial your number.”

Minho lifts his hands. “I was just going to say hello.”

“Oh, good! People always judge me for that!”

You don’t let him respond as you point at the photos on the wall. “Tell me about them!” you request. “Our photographer Hyunjin is going to be here any minute, and we’ll give this corner a special attention. Your customers need to know this.”

Minho scratches his head bashfully, the glint of admiration in your eyes is making him a bit dizzy. It’s been a long time since you looked at him like that. “Uhh, okay. These are the kids I’m supporting, they live in Africa,” he starts. “I hope I can visit them someday, but they’ve been sending me letters, saying thank you... telling me about their days and all.”

“Wow!” you marvel. “How does it feel? To receive such lovely letters?”

“Honestly, it kinda makes me feel like a parent,” he replies. “It feels wonderful.”

Moving onto the next set of photos, his smile grows wider. “I teach these kids dancing, sometimes taekwondo. They’re all very sweet, especially the maknae, Yang Jeongin.” Minho points at a boy with contagious smile. “He can be a brat sometimes, but everyone loves him.”

“Is this an orphanage? Can I meet them?” you blurt out.

“Of course! You’ll love them to bits.”

“You have to come back with Y/N noona!”

A few weeks later, Minho took you to the orphanage. You played with the kids all day and watched him teach them dance. You thought the kids wouldn’t like you as much, but now they’re trying to persuade you to stay the night.

“Aww, of course I’ll come back. Be a good boy, and we’ll be back sooner than you thought!”

Yang Jeongin, the youngest boy in the orphanage, has done everything to make you stay. If it weren’t for your “adult responsibilities,” you would have caved in because nothing could beat his puppy eyes and hopeful smile.

“Alright, go back inside, everyone. All of you need to sleep.”

The kids grumble at Minho’s command, slowly walking back to the main hall. After making sure no one sneaks out to follow you, the two of you make a stop at a nearby park that Minho claims to be the perfect place to admire the moon.

“Okay, you’re not lying. The moon does look pretty from here.”

The man sitting beside you smirks in satisfaction. “I never stay too long but I always like spending time here. Now that I think about it, you kinda resemble the moonlight.”

The switch of the mood has you cackling. “Aren’t everything about the moon associated with werewolves and murders? You’re expecting me to fall for such a lame pickup line?”

“That’s not how I see it.” Minho disagrees. “I think you’re radiant, bright but not blinding. Take it as a compliment.”

The word radiant strikes you light a lightning, forces you to face the harsh reality that you’re doing a really good job in hiding the hollowness inside—all the lingering questions and uneasiness. You’re far from being the light Minho admires.

“Trust me, I’m not radiant whatsoever.”

Minho stiffens, observing you carefully until you feel brave enough to look at him. At first, you see pity in his eyes, but it morphs into something that feels too good to be true. You find tranquil in his gaze, so serene that you nearly let your tears fall.

He reaches for your hand, interlocking your fingers together before pulling you up from your seat. “I’ll tell you whenever you’re being the moonlight that you are,” he promises, his voice is a perfect mix between sincerity and mischief. “Prepared to get sick of me because I’ll remind you everyday.”

Just because most people often cross the line doesn’t mean that being able to exert self-control when needed is something to be proud about, but Minho has always thought of it as his positive trait.

He’s going to cross it out of the list today.

His hand is still holding yours tightly, chatting away with a lopsided smile on his face. And yours. This wasn’t what he intended to do, but life loves to play God and tests him the moment he thinks he knows what he’s doing. Giving you his name card on the train has spiraled into taking you home hand-in-hand, peppering kisses on your temple when you become too cute to handle (which is almost all the damn time) and falling in love with you all over again. What happened in the subway impulsive and dumb, but he couldn’t control himself. He wanted to see you again, he longed to talk to you.

Minho just wanted a second chance to be good to you, but will things ever be enough? How will he make things right again? Providing you free coffee and say thank you for your visit? It was a selfish wish he shouldn’t have acted upon.

“We must’ve crossed paths somehow. There’s no way that we’ve never met before!” you say, swinging your intertwined hands happily.

It’s too late. History repeats itself, but Minho’s too far gone to stop. He’s trying to feel it, the need to exert self-control—he can’t.

“I didn’t come home often,” he lies, every word feels like knife stabbing his heart. You hum in response, a yawn escaping from your mouth as both of you are nearing your unit. Minho watches you enter the door password, mouthing the numbers silently, 2 3 0 9. Your grandma’s birthday. It’s always been your password for everything—phone, laptop, even Minho’s old apartment since you were the one who set it for him. It stays with him until this very day although he no longer lives in the same apartment.

You tug at his sleeve. “Come on in.”

Your stuffs are pretty much the same, if not exactly the same as a few years ago. The only things missing were those related to him. Polaroid photos of you together, the umbrella he left at your place, the mug he…. wait.

The purple mug Minho bought for you is sitting on the kitchen counter, causing him to nearly trip over his own feet. Did you forget to get rid of it before the procedure?

“Let me go change first,” you tell him. “Feel free to grab any snack. There’s cold water and beer in the fridge.”

He can barely answer as you disappear into your room. Memories start flooding his mind, it feels as if he finally finds all the folders with your name on them that he tried so hard to bury, stashed in the deepest part of his heart.

Those memories were so painfully beautiful he has to bite his lip to prevent his tears from falling.

“Oh that’s my favorite mug!”

You’re back, dressed in the black loose T-shirt you always wear during summers. Minho’s eyes automatically dart to your left shoulder, spotting the hole on the shirt that exposes a part of your shoulder.

Another thing that hasn’t changed. Another thing that makes you the you he knew. Another thing that diminishes his self-control into nothing because you have no idea how much he loved to—

“Minho?”

You cradle this face softly, wiping the tears he didn’t know he shed. Confusion and panic reflected in your irises. “Is everything okay?”

“Huh?” He touches his cheek before attempting to laugh. “Something probably went into my eyes...”

“Let me see.” Before he refuses, you’ve taken a step closer, gently blowing into his eyes. “Better? Want some eye drop?”

Minho shakes his head, removing your hands from his face and plants a kiss on your forehead. Another mistake that feels so right. “I guess I’m just tired. Is it okay if we chat some other time?”

You mumble an okay, following him to the front door. When he turns the door knob, you reach for his hand. “Hey,” you murmur, slowly examining his face. Minho tries to read yours in return, sensing your hesitation. He waits for a good minute patiently, letting you form words in your head.

“What are we? These things we’ve been doing… what do they mean to you? Does this mean we’re…”

You let out a frustrated sigh, more directed to yourself than him, and Minho understands what you’re talking about. He tightens his grip on the knob, desperately begging himself to stop all of this. You don’t deserve another heartbreak when you’ve done everything to continue living.

You’re a whole new person, yet you remain the one he adored. How can you be so different yet familiar? How can you be so… dearly you?

“Minho, does this mean that we’re—”

Minho throws his arms around you, burying his head into the crook your neck before slowly trailing his lips towards the exposed part of your shoulder. You have no idea how much he loves leaving kisses there, on that particular spot. As strange as it sounds, it gives him the strength and hope he needs. Minho never told you this; you’ll never be able to imagine how happy and relieved he currently feels when he plants one, two, three, countless kisses that set his whole being on fire.

“We are,” he whispers, dropping one last kiss before pulling you even closer, enveloping your body in his embrace.

There’s only one thing in Minho’s head now: love. He can only think about loving you better than before, and in this moment nothing can stop him from doing so because whether he likes the old you or the new you doesn’t matter anymore.

Minho just loves you, and he doesn’t want to think about anything else. Not even his selfishness. And especially not your future heartbreak.

“You’re so precious, Y/N. You’re so precious to me.”

Hyunjin is the only one at the office when you arrive. He’s busy with his camera, changing its setting every now and then before capturing random things on his desk. You and Chan were on the fence about hiring him at first since you’re just a small company and he’s a student with high expectations. However, Hyunjin turns out to be the one of the most eager apprentices ever, and you’re going to bawl your eyes out when his internship ends next month.

“What are you doing?” you ask him, only earning a distracted “Huh?” as an answer.

“Hyunjin, don’t forget to go over the photoshoot details with me before we leave later, okay?”

He lifts his head a little this time. “Okay. Let me just finish trying out this new technique Seungmin taught me.”

You chuckle, snapping a photo of your intern yelling at his camera when he messes up. Sending it to Chan, you write, “We should give him a raise.”

Your phone rings a few seconds later, frowning when Chan’s urgent voice greets you. “I’m inside my car. Can we talk?”

“Whoa, relax. What happened?”

“Y/N, please. Just come out for a sec.”

No one wants to start a fight with Chan when he’s talking in that tone, so you inform Hyunjin you’re stepping out for a bit. Chan’s sedan is parked right in front of the building, his conflicted face prompts you to enter the car right away.

“You told me there’s something weird about Minho but now you’re dating him? And you’re hiding it from me?” he deadpans without waiting for you to close the door.

“I didn’t mean to hide it from you,” you murmur. “I just don’t know how to explain it.”

Chan sighs in exasperation. “Why do you think you owe me an explanation? I’m your best friend, not your mother. How is Minho different from any other guy you’ve dated that you really tried to keep it a secret from me?”

You gulp. “Things between Minho and I… it’s different. I thought I knew what liking someone felt like, but after meeting him I realized I knew nothing about it. Everything feels so overwhelmingly wonderful and insanely intense I think I may fall apart if I start talking about it.”

Your best friend gives you a knowing look, but says nothing as he stares at a random stranger walking down the street. “And I know you’re not really fond of him so I was trying to look for the perfect timing to tell you. Sorry.”

“I just want to keep you safe. This guy knows small details about you that even I didn’t know. Are you sure you never met him before?”

He pauses, taking a deep breath before adding, “Did you do that erasure procedure?”

“How am I supposed to know?” you snap. “Isn’t forgetting about the whole thing the point of the procedure?”

“You love him, don’t you?” Chan’s voice is soft this time, but his words hit you right in the gut you have to stop yourself from flinching. Hearing someone say that they love you is scary, admitting that you are in love is a hundred times scarier.

Taking your silence as a yes, Chan turns on the engine. “Look, the last thing I want is seeing you sad. It breaks me, more than you know. So please consider trying to find out the truth. How are you going to love him if you don’t trust him? How is he going to love you if he keeps you in the dark?”

You lean your head against the window, watching your best friend dialing Hyunjin’s number to tell him that both of you will be back after lunch.

“We better be quick,” Chan says. “Hyunjin’s terrified he will have to answer Mr. Song’s call again.”

“We should definitely give him a raise.”

“Oh we will,” he snickers. “If he survives Mr. Song’s call.”

“You’re cruel.”

For the first time in your life, you feel like a ruling queen inside your island instead of a trapped princess. You know every nook, every secret passage, every hidden treasure that nobody else has ever explored. Everything feels real for once, you’re in control and you want to stay here forever.

Eat Here has gained more regular customers since you and Chan started handling its social media accounts, and the face-splitting grin on Minho’s face whenever a new customer pushes the door open makes you feel proud and giddy at the same time.

You weren’t able to witness your Hottest Man Alive greeting his customers happily today, but you promised to pay him a visit at the café. It’s a few minutes past 10, meaning the café has closed for the day, so you were prepared to see everyone cleaning up. To you surprise, there’s nobody inside when you arrive.

“Minho?”

Your boyfriend waves from inside the pantry. “Coming!”

Moments later, he comes out with a tray of food. Gesturing at you to take a seat, he places a bowl of potato salad, a pot of kimchi jjigae and some side dishes. “Wait, let me get some more.”

You recall your phone conversation 2 hours ago, vaguely remembering telling Minho that you haven’t had dinner. When he serves the last batch of side dishes and a bottle of sikhye, you tease him for being so sweet.

“I’m not being sweet though?” He pulls out a chair for himself, watching you eat with content eyes. “You said you were starving, so I prepared you some food.”

You shrug, letting him pour sikhye into your glass. “I just never expected that you’re someone who…”

“… cooks?” he finishes for you. “I just did the bare minimum. Do you really want to see me being sweet?”

“Is that a challenge?”

Minho clears his throat, the way he stares at you makes you fidget in your seat. Only God knows what’s inside this man’s mind. One second he’s nonchalant and cool, then he’s Mr. Flirty and makes you all swoony.

Patting his thigh, he smiles at you. “Come here baby.”

You shake your head in fear of completely losing your sanity. “No. What are you trying to do?”

“Being the most romantic boyfriend ever. Come on.”

Minho tries his best to suppress his laugh as you finally settle yourself on his lap, not sure whether you should rest your head on his shoulder or peck his lips or marvel at how firm his thighs are... damn it Y/N, what are you? 17?

Although you’re just sitting there like a log, Minho looks unbothered and reaches for the chocolate cake. He slices it into smaller bites, taking a piece of it with the fork before telling you to open your mouth. “If you still want ice cream then we can get some on the way home.”

“I’ve had enough ice cream for today. I went to this cute ice cream parlor with Chan.”

You take the plate from him, stuffing yourself with the rest of the cake. Minho’s soft pats on your shoulder and the sweet taste of chocolate seem to flush all the initial awkwardness from your system.

Another hour passes with you curling up on Minho’s lap, the latter listening to your little speech about how grateful you are for vending machines as if you’re talking about world peace. Your back hurts and his thighs ache but the way your head nestles in the crook of his neck and the way he pecks your cheek every few minutes are enough of a spell to trap both of you in this exact moment, where lies, doubts and regrets cease to exist.

You wake up with a jolt, reaching for your water bottle on the bedside table. It’s surreal for a dream to feel that real—it almost felt like a memory, something distant but present nonetheless. You’re sure that was the younger Minho you saw in the dream instead of the one you know, and before you come to a realization that it’s currently 2AM, you’re already dialing his number.

He picks up on the fifth ring. “Hmmm my moonlight, missed me?”

His sleepy voice causes you to blush, definitely not seeing that coming. “Nothing.” You wince at your parched voice. “I just had a dream.”

Minho lets out a low laugh, you can hear him sitting up on his bed. “About me?”

“Well… yeah.”

“Tell me about it.”

You sink into your bed, heaving a sigh you forget to hide. “It’s complicated.”

“Was it a bad dream?” Minho’s voice is firm but oh so calming that you start recounting every detail you can remember. He listens to you attentively, humming once in a while, and your muscles are all relaxed now. Minho is here, listening to your bullshit in the wee hours of the morning. Minho is here, calling you his moonlight with the most caring tone ever.

“I miss you,” he declares the moment you finish talking. “Can I come over?”

“All of sudden? Minho, it’s 2AM.” You glance at the clock. “Wait, it’s 2:18 now.”

“Then I’ll be there at 3AM.”

“But—”

He hangs up, and you just sit there until Minho enters your room at 3AM sharp, taking in your dumfounded state before plopping himself onto the bed and pulling you close. “I’m here,” he sweetly says and you can only nod, eyes boring into his as he runs his thumbs along your cheekbones. “I like you, exactly the way you like me. I like you more.”

You shake your head, burying your head in the crook of his neck to hide your red cheeks. “It was just a dream,” he adds, enunciating each word like a mantra. Closing your eyes, you repeat his words again and again inside your head, traces of pain from the dream still crawling up your skin as Minho’s sweet praises lull you to sleep.

“I’m sorry but that’s classified information. We cannot mention anything about our patients.”

“But she did the procedure because of me! I’m the one she erased!”

“That only gives us more reasons to forbid you from obtaining any information. It’s our policy to protect our patients, especially after the procedure is done.”

Minho wonders how this sullen kid managed to land the job, but bites his tongue before he really gets kicked out. He takes one deep breath before pleading at so-called receptionist (his name is Kim Seungmin but he could care less) once again. “May I at least know whether she was in so much pain?”

Seungmin fixes his glasses. “People her age mostly spend their money on traveling or whatever cool things they want to do, but she chose to have her memories manipulated so she wouldn’t have to remember you. I think that’s enough of an explanation.”

It’s no big deal, Minho tells himself. It’s normal for people to have the Erasure procedure thesedays. In fact, it’s become so normal that no one bothers to talk about it anymore. Erasure is simply another way to move on, just like Love Alarm is another way to detect love. If you decided that your memories together weren’t precious enough to keep in your heart, so be it. If he hurt you that much but you chose to erase him instead of confronting him, then it’s your loss.

Exactly. Was he that bad? Did he hurt you that much?

“Excuse me, Sir?” Seungmin is already standing by the door. “I think it’s better for you to leave.”

“Alright.” Minho lifts his hands in defeat, starting to feel bad for the poor boy who’s just trying to keep his job. “Hang in there, kid.”

“Congratulations, you just earned a VIP pass to Hell.”

Eat Here is doing well, the kids he’s supporting are starting school soon and he finally gets to return the feelings of the girl he loves the most but yes, Seungmin is right. The gates of Hell are open for Minho.

“Right,” he scoffs. “As if you didn’t greet people with a smile and convinced them that erasure was the best solution for all their problems.”

Seungmin grits his teeth; talks about Dr. Seo Changbin’s Erasure Centre are never easy for both of them. For Seungmin, it reminds him of all the pain, rage and guilt he thought he was used to seeing. For Minho, it reminds him of his selfishness and failure to make you happy.

“The erasure did help a lot of people though,” the puppy-eyed boy trails off. “It’s been years yet I’m still torn between wanting the procedure to perish and thanking it for saving lives.”

“Maybe it does save people. But then there’s Y/N.”

“And you,” Seungmin adds.

Minho chuckles. “And you.”

“Are you just gonna wait until she realizes that those dreams actually happened?”

A long silence looms over them until Seungmin slides a clear CD case along the counter. “I guess it’s time to reveal how I risked my life for you the day I quit my job there.”

A label with your name is plastered on it along with the logo of the centre. It’s the answer to all his questions when he first met Seungmin. The sole proof that everything between the two of you happened.

“I can get sued anytime,” the part-timer warns jokingly. “So use it well, and don’t cry. She said some hurtful things, but you deserved it anyways.”

“Do you think it could last another hour?”

Hyunjin snaps one last photo and tells the models to get a 5-minute break. “Do you want an honest answer or an intern-can-make-anything-happen answer?” he whispers at you while checking his shots.

You’re currently at a photoshoot in Gyeongju with a client you desperately need to impress, but your clumsiness just had to choose today to get in action. Chan was almost furious when you told him you left all the cameras’ charging cables at Minho’s apartment.

“So we’re fucked up,” you conclude. “How many outfits are left?”

“Including this one… three.”

“We’re so fucked up,” you correct yourself, approaching Chan to relay the expected bad news when a familiar car arrives at the villa. You barely hear Hyunjin muttering, “God is a male… for today…” before rushing to take the black duffel bag from Minho’s hand. He only smiles when you tell him he’s getting all the hugs and kisses later.

The photoshoot continues smoothly; allowing you, Chan and Hyunjin actually breathe after 5 hours trying to make the cameras’ batteries last as long as possible.

“I’m so sorry Chan,” you sigh.

He lets out a weak chuckle. “It’s fine. The problem’s solved anyways.”

“No thanks to me.”

“Thanks to you.” Chan glances at your boyfriend who’s leaning on his car, watching you from afar. “Minho brought the chargers, but you were the one who made him drive all the way here. You need to stop underestimating his feelings for you.”

You let Chan’s words sink in, eyes meeting Minho’s in the process. For a split second you forget about everything’s that’s been bugging you, wanting nothing but to lose yourself in his affection for you.

“Do you trust Minho now?”

Chan puts his hand inside his pocket, exhaling softly. “I know he’s crazy for you Y/N, I’m not dense. But does that mean he’s being honest with you?”

Hyunjin snaps one last photo that marks the end of the shoot, giving you a reason not to respond to Chan, jogging towards the models instead. “Thank you, everyone!” You bow to them. “There are some snacks left inside so please eat before you go, or you may take them home.”

You can still feel Minho’s eyes on you, following you wherever you run with the sweetest kind of fondness that makes it hard for you to question him. He’s like a prince who comes from another kingdom after crossing the long bridge and fighting in the wild forest. He stands there in front of your castle, waiting for you to deem him worthy of your love, of you.

How do you say no to that?

But how do you know if he sees you the way you feel he does?

After that night, you’ve had other dreams—the ones you never told him—each dream etched itself into your mind, filling in the empty spaces slowly but surely. They become a part of you so naturally that you’re convinced you somehow lived them.

“What are you thinking about?”

Minho has just finished loading the last box of props into Chan’s car trunk, now waiting for you to break your train of thoughts with an amused smile. You barely hear Chan and Hyunjin saying goodbye before they enter the car, leaving the two of you alone.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

Minho’s smile is long gone, his expression mirroring yours: confused, lost, a bit scared. “Are you okay?”

Even your 18 year-old self knew what to do then. A bit late, but she did it. The thought of embracing her as a part of you is making you nauseous, the acknowledgement of having a past you don’t remember is disturbingly scary.

“Those dreams... they were real, right? Those are my memories.”

Your stomach churns when Minho nods, surprisingly calmer than you expected. He pulls out a CD out of his bag, carefully slipping it into your hand. The thin plastic feels heavy in your hold, the world as you know it crumbling at the realization that this Lee Minho was the same boy who had your heart in his palm and broke it.

“I tried to picture this situation in my head every single day, but never had the courage to actually tell you. I’m so sorry Y/N. For everything, then and now.”

Lee Minho, the one who sees you as his moonlight, was also the one whose heart could never be yours.

“I’m Lee Minho. We’re both from Gimpo, and we met at high school. We were best friends, then sometime during 11th grade we started dating. You were this amazing, lovely girl who wore your heart on your sleeves, and I was the asshole who failed to realize how blessed I was to have you.”

Minho pauses to look into your eyes, the sorrow in his orbs triggers the tears you refuse to shed. “I became your boyfriend because I didn’t want to lose you,” he continues. “I was stupid, wasn’t I? Stupid and inconsiderate. All I had to do was tell you how I felt…”

"B-but why?” you sob. “Y-you l-lied to me, Minho. Again.”

“I did. Fuck. I did,” he admits. “You have every right to never ever forgive me. But Y/N, I never meant to play with your feelings. I was too late, but I loved you then. I love you now, and I don’t think I’ll be able to love anyone else even if I try.”

Phase 2: Forgotten Days

“A mug?”

Minho hums as an answer while copying your English homework in a speed of light, failing to answer your questions about why, out of all things he could buy in Japan, he decided to gift you a mug. You let out a huff when he leaves your next question hang in the air (“How did you know that I needed a new mug?”), but lets him be since the bell will ring in 15 minutes.

The purple mug is quite heavy and somehow that makes your heart flutter. Minho gave all the other classmates green tea Kit Kats and keychains, but he was willing to fit the bulky mug into his tiny suitcase for you.

You don’t know what’s going on inside his head most of the time, for all you know he could’ve bought the mug because he forgot to buy something for you and decided to grab the first thing in sight. It’s just a little gift, something you should just appreciate without thinking too much about it, but you can’t help but wonder. Sometimes you feel sorry for yourself for overanalyzing Minho’s every little gesture, trying to guess how much he likes you.

“I’m done!” Minho exclaims, returning your book before grabbing his wallet. He finally looks into your eyes, smiling at you as he ruffles your hair. “Gotta grab some snacks. You want anything? Strawberry milk? Chips?”

When he comes back with both although you told him you only wanted chips, Minho argues that he knows you’ll get hungry in the middle of lessons. Again, it shouldn’t feel so special, but he’s looking at you now, you and no one else. Lee Minho is like an enigma, but at times like this, you bask in his bright smile and everything is forgotten.

Summer is the enemy you’ve managed to beat every single year, but combine the scorching heat with excruciating cramps and you don’t stand a chance. You peek into the practice room once again, but Minho is still practicing his dance routines, his phone laid neglected at the corner of the room. The supposed-to-be 30 minutes practice turns into an hour, and you decide to just wait outside since you don’t have energy to go home on your own.

The door opens when you’re on the verge of passing out, luckily someone has caught you before you collapse on the floor. “Y/N,” Minho’s voice forces you to open your eyes. “What happened?”

“… cramps…”

He lifts you and dashes to the infirmary without saying anything else, yelling at some other students to “fucking move!” while trying not to trip over his undone shoelaces. You try to tell him that you’re alright, just a little tired from enduring the pain but he gives you no chance to talk.

Minho finally stays still after kicking the infirmary’s door to no avail. He makes no other attempt to open the door, slowly making eye contact with your drowsy eyes. You love seeing fire in Minho’s eyes, especially when he dances or plays with his friends. This is the first time Minho sees you with such intensity, but this is not the passionate flame you’ve been craving to see. This fire is destructive, painful. It breaks your heart that he’s looking at you like this, like you’re the source of all unfortunate events that happens in his life.

You feel like you’re the unfortunate event in his life, and the thought is enough to make you break free from his bruising grip, pushing the door open yourself.

“Go back to practice,” you tell him, sitting on one of the beds. “I’ll lie down for a bit then go home.”

Minho rummages through the medicine cupboard, taking a painkiller pill and fills an empty glass with warm water. “Drink this, I’ll take you home.”

“I’m fine, Minho…”

He shakes his head. “You’re sick and I’m taking you home.”

Too weak to argue, you swallow the pill and let him walk you home. Minho keeps his hand around your shoulder the whole time, not even bothering to check his ringing phone. He doesn’t talk to you either, and at this rate the silence is more concerning than your cramps.

“Can you go up on your own?” he murmurs when you reach your apartment building. “I have to go back to school, but I’ll stop by later.”

You only nod, about to wave him goodbye when he reaches for your arm. “Wait.”

Minho cups your face, pressing his lips on yours and stealing your breath away. Soon, he starts kissing you harder, but his lips still feel cold against yours and he still feels so faraway even when he’s gripping your waist like his life depends on it.

“Minho,” you manage to rasp, cradling his face to stop him from planting another kiss on your lips. He opens his eyes, staring at you with those beautiful eyes that, sadly, never really shine for you. “Your friends are waiting.”

Still panting, Minho gives you a nod before pulling away. The fire you saw in his eyes earlier has died out.

As you watch him walk away, you finally realize that you’ve been asking yourself the wrong question. It’s not about how much Minho likes you, it’s about whether he likes you at all.

If Minho could choose only one person to be with for the rest of his life, he would choose you. He enjoyed watching movies with you, he loved sending his silly selfies to you, he always wanted to end a tiring day by talking to you all night long.

He can still do that, you’re still his friend. The only difference is that he can hug and kiss you and tell other people that he’s yours. Minho doesn’t know why he lets the words “boyfriend and girlfriend” change the dynamics between the two of you, but it’s too late to undo everything.

“Can we just be friends again?” he repeats the question in his head over and over, yet he can never voice it out. The look in your eyes will be too devastating for him to bear, and he will you lose you forever.

“I’m outside,” he tells you over the phone, trying not to flinch at your excited “Oh!”

A few minutes later, you step out of the elevator, walking towards him with big steps.

“Feeling better?” he asks, noting the way your eyes light up at the question.

“Hmm. I took a short nap and it’s gone.”

Minho sighs. “Don’t wait for me next time. If I take too long, you can just go home. I’m sorry that I let you wait around like that.”

The last sentence causes you to lower your gaze, seemingly self-conscious with the fact that he forgot you were waiting for him. “Bought you some ice cream,” Minho says, trying to distract you from your thoughts. “Chocolate, vanilla, mint choco, it’s all there.”

“As an apology?” you half-tease, the tinge of sadness in your voice causes Minho’s heart to clench a little.

He quickly pulls you into his arms, resting his chin on the top of your head. “Yes and no,” he murmurs into your hair. Part of him is relieved when you don’t question his answer, only humming against his chest before wrapping your arms around him. It’s so easy to make you happy and it angers him. You’re too kind. Too patient. Too loyal. You’re too in love with him, and it hurts not being able to feel the same.

But as the warmth of your body starts to comfort his senses, Minho realizes this is where he wants to be. He wants to be with you, no matter what the labels are. “If you miss the last bus you’re gonna have to walk all the way home,” you remind him, voice muffled since neither of you wants to let go.

“One more minute,” he replies, fingers playing with the hole on your shirt. He places one feathery kiss there, a silent promise that he’s going to try his best loving you. The one promise that could have made you stay, but it remained unsaid until the day you left him.

“Surprise!”

Minho lets out a yelp, coughing up confetti that you pop right in front of face. His parents, standing a few steps behind you, are giggling at their son’s reaction. “I thought you had to go somewhere with your mom!” he exclaims, the surprise in his eyes is now replaced by confusion and… annoyance?

You quietly step aside, letting him shake off the confetti as you’re trying to find your voice. Minho’s parents don’t seem to notice the tension, laughing and explaining that they invited you over for the family birthday dinner.

His mother ushers both of you to the dining room where the feast awaits. “After all this time you still haven’t introduced Y/N to Soonie!” she protests jokingly while the said cat is purring at you. Coming over to Minho’s house without his knowledge sounded like a terrible idea right from the start, but now you really wish you had turned the offer down. The birthday boy only pats you on the back before telling you to sit down, and you spend the rest of the dinner conversing without ever looking at each other in the eyes. That’s no surprise, what surprises you is the fact that you don’t even bother trying to get him look at you.

After 2 years, you’re finally tired of waiting for Minho to love you.

“Soonie doesn’t usually like strangers,” Minho says as you’re walking to the bus stop. “But he really likes you.”

“Do you?”

“What?”

“Like me. Do you like me?”

Minho chuckles. “What kind of question is that?”

Words are bubbling inside your head, all emotions threatening to spill out you have to literally swallow them down. It feels like the world has come to a stop—the realization that your world has been revolving around Minho all this time makes you feel queasy.

“Y/N?”

You want to explode. You wish you can explode. There’s nothing you want more than taking out every piece of your broken heart, count all of them and show him how much you’ve been hurting. You thought your love was enough for both of you, but the bigger your love grew, the farther the distance between the two of you became.

Minho keeps his gaze on you as you’re mustering up courage to ask the most heartbreaking question. “Why?” you quiver. “Why do you pretend that you like me? Why do you bother doing that for 2 years?”

“I-I like you. So much,” he stutters. “Just not in the same way you like me…”

Blinking your tears away, you return his tormented gaze. “Then why did you let me like you alone? Every fucking day you let me wonder how much you like me, if I mean anything to you… I wait for you, convincing myself that you must’ve liked me if you chose to be my boyfriend. But it’s just a game to you, isn’t it?”

Lee Minho has always had his own way to love. You’ve seen him showering those around him with love in ways that seem so ordinary that people often take it for granted. But you see and feel everything, including hints that your feelings have always been one sided. You bury all those hints, telling yourself that he only needs time.

That time never comes, and you have run out of lies and excuses and hope to cover up for both of you.

Phase 3: Chasing Moonlight

The Queen lived under a spell all this time, believing that the foreign kingdom was her whole world while she didn’t even have a home to begin with.

But the ruins of her castle—the only thing that’s left of the kingdom she tried to understand her whole life—will become one. She’s going to build herself a new kingdom, one that she knows by heart, and call it home.

“Noona!!! I’m going home!!! Don’t stay there too long!!! You’ll get sick!!!”

You tear your gaze from the cloudy sky as Hyunjin shouts at you from the ground. You dismiss him with a little wave, forcing a small smile so that the boy will leave instead of going back to the rooftop.

“He’s right,” Chan adds. “You’ve been here for hours.”

After showing up at work with puffy eyes and hoarse voice, Chan attempted to send you home, but you insisted to complete some of your tasks before breaking down during lunch after Hyunjin accidentally revealed that he would meet Seungmin at Eat Here.

So here you are, finally sated after crying all the tears you had left at the rooftop during the remaining working hours.

“I’m fine,” you croak, cringing at your own voice. “You can leave.”

“And let you stay here until you’re all stiff and frozen?”

“Just let me be pathetic for one more day.”

He furrows his brows. “You’re not being pathetic. After what he’s done to you, weeping is the least you should do.”

You let out your first laugh of the day. “I surely wept.”

Looking incredibly relieved that you haven’t lost the ability to feel other emotions than sadness, Chan continues, “Wanna talk about it?”

“Do you know what hurts the most?”

He takes the longest time to think, but shakes his head at the end.

“The fact that I’ll probably never see him again.”

“That’s supposed to be a good thing, but go on.”

“Should I give him one last chance? Or should I just hate him until I die? What’s the right thing to do? What should I do to heal? What should he do to heal? All these questions are driving me insane.”

Those questions are the easiest to answer, so you expect Chan to sigh and tell you to snap out of it, but he just smiles at you. “What do you want to do?”

“Huh?”

“Have you tried answering your own questions? What you want to do is what you’re supposed to do. It’s easy, my dear friend.”

“I want to…”

Your mind wanders to last night, recalling that agony on Minho’s face that mirrors your own. A small part of you wants him to suffer for the rest of his life, consumed by guilt and the sheer horror of being erased from someone else’s memories.

“I want to curse him out.”

Chan playfully smacks your head. “You didn’t do that?”

“My mind went blank, then I started crying. That wasn’t cool at all, I know,” you huff. “I should’ve told him to go to hell or something.”

“After that? What do you want to do?”

You bury your face into your palms, ignoring the teasing tone in Chan’s questions. “The last time we talked, you were Lee Minho’s #1 hater. What happened?”

“I just wanted him to be honest with you. I never hated him,” he tells you softly. “Do you?”

You may never get all of your memories back, but the ones you can remember are enough to know that being with Minho used to be a silent torture. He was a thorny rose, beautiful yet unattainable. You wanted him so much you refused to look down and see your bloody fingers. The thorns were stuck there for the longest time, eventually infecting your soul until you were too weak to heal yourself.

But he’s not that boy anymore. He’s just Minho who listens to all of your rambles and actually keeps all those details in his mind. He gives you the warmest hugs and the most sincere kisses. He stays by your side, and you will always want him to stay.

When you finally lift your head to answer Chan, he gives you his reassuring smile that never fails to make you feel better. It’s the first time he’s talking about Minho without a frown, and you hope it’s a good sign. “Like I said,” he sing-songs. “Do what you want to do.”

The sound of footsteps approaching prompts you to curl yourself into a ball, trying to make yourself as invisible as possible under the dining the table. Jeongin manages to push the heavy door open after a few tries, mumbling that you’re not going to take the “king of hide and seek” title from him. You can’t help but giggle at his determination, waiting for him to find you while he’s scanning the whole room.

“Minho hyung!”

You stay still, not wanting to fall into the 5 year-old’s tricks so easily… until you hear Minho’s voice calling the little boy’s name. “What are you guys playing? Where’s Y/N?”

“We’re playing hide and seek,” Jeongin answers, his eyes still as sharp as a hawk. “I’ve found everyone, only Y/N noona is left!”

Minho hums. “Want me to help you find her?”

You don’t hear Jeongin responding, but the next thing you see is a pair of pretty eyes staring into yours. “Found her,” Minho murmurs.

Jeongin pulls you out with a huge grin on his face. “I knew you were there! Thanks for helping me, hyung.”

Minho ruffles the boy’s head before gazing back at you. “If you’re thankful, can I borrow her for a second? We just need to talk, then she’s all yours.”

You can’t find the strength to say no, hoping Jeongin will somehow be clingy this time. “Are you guys fighting?” he asks instead.

“Do you think we’re fighting?”

Jeongin nods, his sparkly eyes turn gloomy. “If I let you talk, will you make up?”

Minho glances at you. “I don’t know… I made a huge mistake.”

“Did you make her cry?”

“Yeah,” Minho confirms, voice thick with remorse and you’re not sure how long you can pretend to be okay in front of Jeongin.“I’m a bad person, aren’t I?”

You crouch down, pinching the boy’s pout with an endearing smile. “I promise nothing bad will happen. Can we go outside now? I’m sure everyone is waiting for you.”

Still a bit sullen, he links his hand with yours and lets you lead him out, Minho trailing behind the two of you. Once you’re back at the garden, Jeongin whispers into your ear, “I’ll always be your friend, noona. I won’t hurt you.”

“Of course you won’t,” you laugh. “I’ll join you soon, okay?”

Minho turns to you as soon as Jeongin goes back to his friends, studying your expressions carefully. You want to tell him so many things, yet the only words you can produce are, “Fuck you, Lee Minho.”

You feel slightly lighter when Minho says nothing to defend himself, sitting on the grass before gesturing at you to do the same. It fuels your need to let out the pain you previously sealed inside your heart, ironically basking in his comforting presence as you do so.

“The whole time I felt like something was missing. You knew that, then went on hiding the rest of the puzzle pieces and left me there, incomplete. Just like that.”

This isn’t your first time baring your heart to Minho, the last time you did it you were left with such immeasurable pain that erasing a part of your brain—your soul—sounded like a better choice. You wait for the sadness and rage to take over your mind, but the storm never comes. You wonder what makes it different until Minho shifts to look at you in the eye.

Minho is looking at you with those pretty eyes like you’re the only one he can see. It’s not just a sweet dream you tried to dream of every night when you were 17. You’re no longer the only one who’s wearing your heart on your sleeves.

“Am I doing this because I feel guilty or because I genuinely want to be with you?” he begins. “Believe me Y/N, I spent months trying to find the answer and justify what I did, but I guess you can never exactly separate those two feelings.”

His confession is bittersweet; you know it won’t end all your personal battles. You still have to fight them, help yourself to understand why you are thinking and acting the way you are. The gaps have been filled, and now you have to be the one who define yourself.

“I thought I could just treat you better for the rest of our lives. I was sure my love would be enough to heal you. That was very stupid and selfish of me, and I’m sorry. You’re free to hate me, push me away, ruin my life… the decision is yours. But I don’t wanna hide how I feel anymore. Not from you.”

You’re still pondering his words when Jeongin comes to check on you, making sure Minho isn’t making you cry again.

“No, Jeongin, I’m fine. Look? I’m not crying!” you reassure the pouty kid.

He beams at you with his toothy smile. “Really?! Did you make up? Friends have to forgive each other!”

“I know, sweetheart,” you coo. “And yes, we made up. Friends forgive each other.”

Minho shoots you a surprised look, but you ignore him until you convince Jeongin that he can continue playing. “I don’t know whether we can go back to what we were,” you tell him, gazing at the clear sky. “I still need time to process everything, but I was afraid that I wouldn’t ever see you again. So we can be friends, if you want.”

He chuckles, eyes sparkling and hopeful. “Hi. I’m Lee Minho.”

“I’m Y/N,” you reply. “Anyways, Lee Minho my new friend, how did you know that I’m here?”

“Your scary friend Bang Chan told me you’d be here.”

“So you think Chan is scary.”

Minho does something that’s between a shrug and a shudder. “He’s always shooting daggers at me how do you not notice?!”

As you and Minho spend the rest of the day laughing and enjoying the sun, you rediscover the magic of following your heart.

It’s heavenly.

To Minho, there are only okay days and good days. Bad days almost never happen, but today is a bad day. Everything started from Eat Here’s fruit supplier sending them the wrong strawberries, then Seungmin called in sick minutes before his shift started, and now he has to deal with a couple whose order hasn’t been processed since 40 minutes ago.

“I apologize for the inconvenience. We’re processing your order now and it will be on us. Jisung, we need another 2 glasses of lemonade—”

“We need our food, not—”

Minho’s lips stretch into a thin smile, the kind of smile he hates because you once said you could sense that he was faking it. His business smile is the only that can save him now, so he ignores the fact that you’re watching the whole chaos and says, “It will be on us. You’re going to need more drinks while waiting.”

After making sure that he’s appeased the angry customers, Minho goes back to the small table at the corner where you’re waiting for him. He can no longer mask his fatigue and annoyance when you lay your eyes on him, all he wants now is to hold you in his arms and sleep everything away. He knows he can’t ask you for more, he’s already getting more than he deserves since you agreed to be friends with him again.

He’s undeniably the luckiest man in the whole galaxy, but it’s human instincts to always want more. There are days when his longing for you is too much to handle, and today is one of those days.

His train of thoughts is interrupted when a cold glass is pressed against his cheek. “Minho?”

“Huh?”

Your eyes crinkle knowingly when he focuses his eyes on you again. “I want to listen to you ranting but I really need to go now. Chan needs me back at the office.”

“Okay,” he answers rather brashly. “Thanks for stopping by.”

Minho almost pouts the way Jeongin does (that pout always gets him) whenever the two of you are going home, luckily he stops himself just in time, opting to wonder what will happen if he tells you that he wants you to stay just a minute longer instead.

You make your way to the door, but not without stopping to give him one last advice, “You better not complain that everything is annoying every 5 seconds if you want that new guy to last more than a day. He’s been looking like a lost quokka!”

Your “warning” came out a bit too loud than you expected. Of course, it reaches Han “that new guy” Jisung’s ears and Minho hopes he remembers to give the poor kid a slice of cheesecake for free after his shift ends. You flash him an apologetic smile, turning to Jisung to convince him that his boss isn’t as bad as he seems before your phone rings.

“He’s harmless, Jisung, just make him iced Americano everyday, praise his cats, and you’re good. Okay, I have to go now or I’ll be jobless in an hour! Byeee!”

Minho’s mouth has curled into a lovesick smile at your antics, waving at you until you close the door of your car. The way you naturally calm him down surprises him everytime, it’s like you’re unaware of how much power you have over him.

God, you really own every inch of his heart, don’t you?

Second chances are overrated.

People change, but once you pay attention to them a just a liiiitle more, you realize that they’re still the same. Lee Minho believes he doesn’t deserve any second chance from you, yet he finds himself seeking forgiveness the moment he looked into your eyes again. As selfish as it sounds, Minho wants your love. Nobody else’s, just yours.

He tried to fill in the empty space you left with other people, but none of them fit. It was always too much or too little, punching him right in his gut for ever thinking that what you two had was too much, that you were too much.

Seeing you fast asleep in his living room with Soonie, Doongie and Dori is another reminder that you were never too much.

You were, and still are, his everything.

Dori opens her eyes before jumping out of your arms, making you stir. Minho quietly strokes your hair to lull you back to sleep, but soon your eyes flutter open as well. “Hmmm look who’s here… the hottest man alive,” you mumble.

Minho points at himself. “Not that I’m surprised, but thank you.”

Your sleepy smile and the breathy chuckle that comes after make his stomach flip. It’s just a simple reaction, something you probably didn’t realize doing, but it feels breathtakingly intimate and loving to Minho. A small part of you that only him can see, something that will cross his mind sometime during work, making him wish time to pass quickly so he can rush back home. To you.

Damn, he promised himself not to let him picture a life with you as the love of his life, but look at his defense crumbling right in front of you because of a mere smile.

You seem to notice his dilemma, lips forming another smile. Opening your arms, you whisper, “Come here.”

The voices in his head are drowned by your request, it’s echoing inside his head like a deathly spell. You have him in your embrace nanoseconds later, curling your hands around his neck as he completely succumbs to his longing.

Minho’s head buzzes with the need to tell you that he loves you, wants you, and misses you to the point that he almost asks you to please please please please forgive him and take him back.

“Okay.”

He lifts his head from the crook of your neck, eyes flickering to yours. You chuckle at his reaction, cupping his cheeks with your warm hands. “Say that again.”

“Say… what again?”

Minho blinks up at you, tiny groans of regret escaping his lips when he realizes that he just spilled everything out loud. “I’m sorry,” he sighs. “I wasn’t supposed to say that. I know this isn’t about me, but—”

“Did you mean it, though?”

“Of course I did,” Minho says. “But I want to go according to your pace.”

“If I didn’t want the same thing I wouldn’t be here, Minho.” Your voice is as sweet as honey, hypnotizing him into dropping his hopeless pretense. “I’ve built a new home that truly feels like home. It’s probably just a small house, filled with everything that makes me me. But it feels like a beautiful kingdom, and it’s not complete without you in it.”

You don’t have to say it; the way you hold his gaze with such a raw, pure sincerity and the way you asked him to be with you as if he’s the best person in the whole world are enough to let Minho know that he’s all forgiven.

Feeling a tug at his shirt, he meets your expectant eyes once again. “Are you going to continue staring at me like that until we fall asleep?”

The last traces his fear for disappointing you melts away as you start stroking his hair. “I love you,” he rasps, unconsciously leaning in until his lips brush over yours. “My precious moonlight, I’ll do my best so you won’t ever have to erase me again. I love you, Y/N, please don’t leave me.”

You barely manage to nod before Minho finally crashes his lips against yours, not giving you any chance to steal a breath as he lets his feelings overtake himself. He explores every part of your lips like a madman and you accept whatever he gives you, trying to keep up with his feverish kisses and letting him know that he doesn’t need to hold back.

The sudden urge to see you encourages him to pull away. Minho says nothing for a while, only looking into your eyes with silent adoration. Still breathless, you prop yourself up to reward him with a chaste kiss on the tip of his nose, the sweet gesture causing Minho to attack you with a series of playful smooches.

“How long do you think this will last?” you ask in between kisses, giggling when Minho switches your positions, you’re now lying on top of him.

“This?”

You pinch his cheek. “I gotta admit it feels kinda nice to hear you saying please so many times.”

Minho arches an eyebrow at your cheeky remark. “Is that so? Wait until you find out how much I like hearing you beg.”

“Minho!” you exclaim, dropping your head on his chest to hide your flushed cheeks. He wraps his arms around you, ready to make you even more flustered before accidentally locking eyes with his cats. You lift your head when you feel his body stills, following his gaze.

“Oh no,” you murmur. “The kids saw that, didn’t they?”

He smiles sheepishly at each of them, somehow feeling like he’s gotten caught by his parents. “This kind of thing happens when you love someone,” he attempts to joke. “So get used to it, okay kiddos?”

You nudge his chest with your chin. “God, you’re shameless.”

“They’re cats!”

“Then why are your ears so red?!”

Minho tuts. “That’s it. We need to do this more often so they’ll get used to it.”

As he silences you with another searing kiss, Minho almost malfunctions at how addicting and comforting it is to have you as his again. It’s impossible to fathom all of his feelings for you into words, yet he still hopes you’ll feel every single one of them.

And you do, because Minho is yours. Entirely yours.

“How did you pass your driving test? Did you bribe them or something?”

Hyunjin doesn’t bother to answer Seungmin’s accusation, eyes glued to the road.

“Watch it,” Minho warns monotonously while you’re gripping his hand, too scared to witness the younger trying to drive. Seungmin shrieks in horror when Hyunjin hits the break almost too late. He glares at the passenger seats where you and Minho are seated. “Hyung can you just take over? Or at least switch seats with me?”

“I can’t.” He points at you. “Y/N is scared as hell and I’m not gonna let you hold her hand.”

Hyunjin curses under his breath when several other cars pass him. “Give me a break! This is my first time driving at the highway,” he argues. “And I was supposed to borrow Chan hyung’s car! Driving your car makes it even ten times scarier!”

“Hey, what’s wrong with my car?!” your boyfriend protests.

The three men continue talking over each other, causing you to roar, “SHUT UP!! Hwang Hyunjin, if you take your hands off the wheels you’re gonna die before you even scratch the car!”

Twenty painful minutes later, Hyunjin succeeds in parallel parking the car with the help of a very frustrated Seungmin. The two boys are heading to the orphanage right away, leaving you and Minho alone for your little date.

Minho opens the trunk, setting it up quickly before pulling you to sit beside him, handing you one of the toasts he packed this morning. “Whoa, the moony park is even more beautiful during the day,” you muse, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Minho agrees. “Should we come here more often at this hour?”

“It doesn’t matter, as long as you’re with me.”

Minho snorts at your cheesy answer, but you still sense his wary from the way he keeps glancing at you from time to time. “Is this about the erasure recording you found in my room yesterday? Is that why you took me here?”

“I’m just wondering why you’re still keeping it. I thought we agreed to destroy it,” he says, doing his best to conceal his uneasiness. You initially thought it was a great idea to forget it ever happened, but no, you’re not running away. You want to accept all the consequences of the decisions you have made, especially this one.

“We did, but then I realized I didn’t want to. I don’t want to erase anything anymore, Minho. I want to live life as it is. It’s a memento from the most important period of my life, and while it hurts, it’s a part of me.” You throw your arms around him, squeezing his body until he turns to you and return your hug. “It’s also a reminder that what we have is stronger than anything, don’t you think? I erased you and I still fell in love with you again. Like an idiot.”

Relief washes over you when Minho chuckles, carefree and amused. “You’re not an idiot,” he teases. “You just have an exceptional taste, and I’m way too irresistible. Let’s face it, you were already crazy for me even before I gave you my card.”

“No I wasn’t! I just thought you were attractive!”

“I am the hottest man alive.”

You sigh. “You’ll never let me live it down.”

“No,” he affirms. “Because you’re right. It’s time to stop trying to forget our past. I’ll never forget the fact that you’re calling me the hottest man alive, just like I’ll never forget how much I’ve hurt you. And how much I’ll always try to make it up to you.”

You laugh at his comparison. “I honestly can’t tell whether we’re having a serious conversation or just trolling each other.”

“It’s my talent, baby. Life is always fun with me.”

Although the park has become more crowded and your boyfriend is never big on PDA, you have no choice but giving him a kiss on his cheek. “You don’t have to do anything for me,” you whisper. “Just love me.”

“Hmm.” His lips stretch into a loving smile, the one smile reserved for your eyes only. “That I do.”

Minho isn’t a prince charming who sweeps you off your feet. He is your wandering prince and you’re his moonlight, illuminating his gloomy world. You show him that he doesn’t have to wander for the rest of his life, that he can call you home and stay.

And Minho will always be with you, showering you with the love you deserve. He’ll be the one who fight the demons for you and with you, he’ll be the one who reminds you over and over again how strong and precious you are whenever you lose faith in yourself. Together, you are moonlit. Together, you are complete.

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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 4 years ago

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Meant To Be Yours | Luke Patterson

A/N: this is for all the Heathers fans and Musical Theater lovers out there! I was listening to the soundtrack today and realized how incredibly good Luke would be at singing meant to be yours... Nobody asked for this but... Here ya goooo!

Pairing: Luke Patterson x Musical Theater Program!reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, minor swearing

Words: 5,470

Being a Musical Theater fan and in Los Feliz High’s Musical Theater program has never made Y/N very popular with her peers. Besides her friends at the Musical Theater program and Julie and Flynn, she never really had many people taking as much as a glance at her. None of that really improved when she and Luke started dating. No one believed she was dating the cute hologram band member from Julie and The Phantoms. Thank God they don’t know the truth. Dating a ghost would get her twice the bullying.

The first time she saw them was when the boys performed ‘Bright’ with Julie at the spirit rally about three months ago. Julie had never told Y/N she played with a hologram band, and though Flynn was upset about it, Y/N just found it incredibly confusing. Julie would’ve told her and Flynn about a hologram band. There must be something else that she’s not telling her, she figured. Something just doesn’t add up about the whole story. And after an entire night of lying awake in bed, she heads to Julie’s garage before school the next day , finding the three hologram band boys there, hanging around together.

She glances from the cute guy behind the drums, to the other with the flannel, to finally land on the -- in her opinion -- cutest of the three with the orange beanie covering most of his dark hair, trying to connect the dots. “Oh, hey, Y/N,” Julie greets when she enters the garage, making Y/N snap out of her thoughts. “Dad told me he saw you walk into the studio.” She glances at the boys, trying her hardest to pretend they’re not even there. “So… Are you going to tell me why your hologram band is in your garage?” Julie’s eyes widen at this question, then dart to each of the boys, who look about as confused as her. “Y-you can see them?” Julie stutters, trying to figure out what’s happening. “Yes? Am I not supposed to?” Y/N’s eyes dart over to the boys again as they gather closer towards the two girls. “Why are you all looking at me like that?” She’s growing more and more nervous. Maybe she has something on her face. “You better sit down for this one,” Julie gently pushes her down on the armchair before standing in front of her with the boys behind her. “They’re ghosts… They died in 1995 when they ate some bad hot dogs and I’m pretty much the only one that can see them… Except for you, apparently.” Y/N tries her hardest to understand what’s happening right now. Those three boys are ghosts. And she can see them. She can see three ghosts. “I knew the hologram story was bullshit,” she finally manages to bring out after a couple of seconds of silence. “Why didn’t you tell me?” “I didn’t want you to think I’d gone completely crazy…” Y/N lets a small smile shine out. She’d been there for Julie when she’d lost her mother and Julie had been there after Y/N’s grandmother had passed away too. “You know my grandmother used to be in this voodoo crap when she was alive, I would’ve believed you if you’d just told me.” The two girls chuckle at this, remembering the times Y/N’s grandmother used to babysit the two after school and she’d tell them these stories about ghosts and witches and voodoo. Back then, the girls used to giggle at them and mimic Grammy Dottie on their sleepovers. “I know, I’m sorry. I should’ve told you…” Julie takes Y/N’s hands in hers, pulling her up on her feet again. “Will you forgive me?” Y/N pretends to think about it before nodding, the two of them giggling as they embrace. Y/N’s eyes then land on the boys behind her. “You might wanna introduce me to your band though,” she whispers in her best friend’s ear. “Right,” Julie lets go of Y/N and turns to face the boys. “Boys, this is Y/N Y/L/N. My best friend since diapers, pretty much. Y/N, this is my band.” “I’m Reggie!” the boy in the flannel raises his finger, “Hi!” He gives her the most excited smile, followed by a little wave. Y/N returns the favor. “I’m Alex,” the blonde guy she’d seen behind the drums earlier, takes his turn to introduce himself. Y/N let out a soft ‘hi’ before looking over at the last member. The one in the orange beanie. The one with the gorgeous, tender hazel eyes and the soft smile plastered on his face. He doesn’t introduce himself at first, it takes Reggie nudging him with his elbow before he flinches back to earth. “I-I’m Luke….” A faint blush creeps onto his cheeks. “It’s very nice to meet you, boys,” she says to all of them, but keeps her eyes on Luke. There’s something about him that attracts her eyes to him. Maybe it’s the smile or the eyes. Or the arms. But just maybe there’s something about this vibe he’s giving off. This kind-hearted, passionate, excited vibe that makes him so much more attractive. Just something about the way he carried himself with so much humbled confidence. There was just something about Luke.

Though Y/N found it weird at first, having a crush on a ghost, she couldn’t stop her brain from thinking about him or her heart from beating faster every time he was near. Julie and Flynn even noticed her drawing hearts in her notes from class, and humming love songs in the hallways. They couldn’t keep themselves from teasing you about it either. “Back on Cloud Luke, Y/N?” Flynn makes her snap out of her thoughts when Julie and her join Y/N at the lunch table. A scarlet tint crawls onto her cheeks as she subtly hides the ‘LP’ doodles she’d drawn in her musical script. “What?! No!” she yelps out a little too defensively. “I don’t have a crush on Luke, you guys. I don’t know where you get your information…” she chuckles nervously before sipping from her drink. Flynn and Julie exchange glances. “Exhibit A,” Julie starts and tugs the script from underneath Y/N’s arm. “Your billions of doodles of hearts and his initials in your script and notes.” Flynn whips out her phone, opening Twitter on Y/N profile. “Exhibit B,” she stars, and shows her friend the last few tweets, “You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams,” She dramatically reads out the most recent one. “And I'd give up forever to touch you, 'cause I know that you feel me somehow. You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be and I don't wanna go home right now.” “That last one is a great song,” Y/N points out. “Sure, but you never Tweet any quotes or song lyrics unless you’re truly feeling it,” Julie reasons. Y/N knows her friends are right. She does have a crush on Luke but she doesn’t want to admit she’s crushing on a ghost. A ghost. Made of air. “You can’t deny there’s chemistry between the two of you, Y/N. You’ve been inseparable since day one. Plus, he’s hella cute,” Flynn states. Y/N’s lips curl up into a smile at this. “Just remember he’s made out of air,” Julie adds, making all three of them chuckle. “Cute air,” Y/N retorts with a shrug. Flynn places a hand on hers, making her look up at her friend. “Just don’t get hurt, okay? It’s clear the two of you are mad for each other.” Y/N’s eyebrows furrow at this in confusion. “Luke doesn’t feel the same for me. Who would ever fall in love with the Musical Theater Nerd?” Her voice lowers, as does her head as she stares at her fidgeting hands on the table. “Uh, have you taken a look at yourself in the mirror? Ever?” Julie exclaims, almost angrily. “You are so gorgeous, Y/N,” Flynn chimes in with affirmation. “You have a killer body,” Julie continues. “A killer voice,” Flynn goes on. “And you are so hilarious. Luke would be really stupid if he didn’t see that!” Y/N can’t help but smile at these compliments. Julie and Flynn always know how to cheer the girl up. “Just talk to him tonight after rehearsals.” Y/N nods her head, inhaling slowly. That night, Julie, Reggie and Alex quickly left after rehearsals, each with another excuse just so the two love birds could be alone. Y/N rolled her eyes at that, turning back to her script. Luke places his guitar in its stand before joining the girl on the couch, swatting away the script from her lap, and lying down with his head in her lap instead. She doesn’t say anything, but just lets him do whatever he feels comfortable doing. She’s now holding her script in one hand, resting it on his chest, while her other goes to his hair. It’s become an automatism for her to do that. Whether he was lying in her lap or they were just sitting next to each other, she always found her fingers tangling up in his hair. Ever since figuring out she could touch the guys, Luke has been very clingy towards her, asking for cuddles or grabbing her hand and playing around with the rings around her fingers or the bracelets around her wrists. “What are you doing?” he asks, looking at the script. “Preparing for the audition for the new musical next week,” she replies without taking her eyes off the script. The boys knew the girl could sing, and they often let her talk about her favorite musicals even though they had no clue about any of them since they’d come out after they died. “Which one is it?” he asks, his fingers running up and down her arm that’s resting on his chest. “Heathers,” she replies, “It’s based on the movie from the 80’s, do you know that one?” “Yeah, I think I watched it with Alex and his sister,” he replies, “They made a musical from that?” Y/N nods her head, her eyes glancing at his. He’s on his back, looking up at her. “Please, tell me you’re not going for one of the Heathers, though?” She shakes her head with a giggle. “Good, because I didn’t really like either of them in the movie.” “None of their parts are really in my range. I’m going to audition for Veronica.” He nods his head slowly, trying to remember which character that was. “The part Winona Ryder played in the movie.” He let out a whispered ‘aaaaaah’. “It’s a pretty big role, so I doubt I’ll actually get it.” Luke frowns at this, and sits up to face her with a disapproving scowl on his face. “You’re insanely talented, Y/N! If they don’t cast you as Veronica, they’re just crazy!” She smiles at his compliment. “Thanks, Luke…” she trails off a little, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “There are just so many talented people in the Musical Theater Program that I doubt they’ll pick me instead of them.” She chuckles at her own pathetic behavior. “It’s lame, I know…” He reaches for her hand when these words roll out of her mouth, capturing her attention again. “It’s not lame, Y/N. I get insecure sometimes too! Sometimes, I get these bouts of anxiety where I think our band will never be good enough for the music industry or for any manager to ever take us on. I sometimes think our songs aren’t good enough, or I’m not good enough. It’s normal, I think.” His words do make her feel a little better. “You just need someone to tell you otherwise and get those ugly thoughts out of your pretty head,” he taps her temple softly twice, making her giggle. “That’s really comforting, Luke, thank you…” She offers him a thankful smile whilst ignoring this gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach. She wants to kiss him so badly, and judging from his eyes darting from her eyes to her lips and back, he’s thinking the exact same thing. She leans in a little, her head tilting and eyes fluttering. Butterflies erupt in her stomach as she catches Luke to do the same. They’re inches away when Carlos abruptly opens the garage doors, making the two of them jump away. The little boy’s eyes widen when he finds his sister’s best friend on the couch, cheeks reddening. “Oh, hey, Y/N. I didn’t know you were still here,” he chuckles awkwardly. Y/N knows why he’s here though. He likes to use the bathroom in the back, especially for all his number two’s. “Yeah, I was uh… Rehearsing for my audition next week,” she holds her script up in the air as proof. “You need the garage, don’t you?” He shoots her an awkward, toothy smile, which is enough for Y/N to know that he needs it for the exact reason he always needs it. “All right, I’m gone…” She glances at Luke whilst reaching past him for her backpack. “Meet me outside,” he tells you before poofing out. You do as told after saying goodbye to Carlos and leaving the garage where you find Luke sitting on the rock near the stairs to the house. She walks up a few of the stairs, so she’s on his eye-level. “I have an idea. If you want, I could help you rehearse some songs and dialogue? I could even ask the boys to help out?” She can’t withhold a smile at this suggestion of his. “You don’t know any of the music, though?” she fairly points out. “We’ll do our homework,” he replies with a grin. “Trust me, Y/N. We’ll be able to help you prepare for this audition, I promise!” Without thinking twice about it, she reaches up and kisses him on the cheek and whispers a thank you in his ear before turning on her heel and leaving the boy flustered on the rock. You didn’t talk to him like you’d promised Julie and Flynn. But at least now you know he kind of feels the same.

The first kiss happened during the first rehearsal they planned in preparation for the audition. It’s after the Julie and The Phantoms rehearsal. Y/N’s on the couch, waiting for them to finish while going over some lines and lyrics, though her eyes often diververt to Luke. He watches her too, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He can’t wait to start rehearsing with her. When he told the boys about helping Y/N out with her audition, the boys had given him knowing glances. They told him he had to do something about this obvious crush he had on her. They often teased him about kissing her, even during their rehearsals when they caught the two looking at each other with desire in their eyes. “Are you ready, Y/N?” Reggie asks when the rehearsal with Julie finishes. His voice makes her avert her eyes from Luke’s, clearly far away on Cloud Luke. “Mmh?” she hums, not having registered his question until she repeats it in her mind, “Oh, yeah!” She gets up from the couch to join the boys at their instruments whilst Julie sits down on the couch instead. She offers Y/N an encouraging grin, excited to hear her sing again. Julie and Flynn were always the ones on the front row during any of the musicals the Theatre Program put on. They were there when Y/N played Chris in Carrie, and when she played Janice in Mean Girls. That last one was Julie’s favorite role she’d ever seen Y/N in. “We listened to the entire soundtrack last night, Julie showed us,” Alex informs his friend excitedly, proud he’s so informed on the musicals from the last decade. “We listened to the Broadway version and the West End version, so just tell us what you wanna do.” “I’m kind of stuck between these two songs to do for my audition. I wanna do I Say No, from the West End version because it showcases my range really well. But I also wanna do Seventeen because it’s my favorite, though I’m gonna need a person to duet with.” She can’t hide the fact that she wanted to duet the song with Luke, even though he can’t join her on the audition. Because one, you can only audition with someone from the program, and two… Luke is dead. “Let’s try the first one first?” Reggie suggests, looking over at Y/N. “Sure, you guys know the chords?” she asks the two with the guitars. They both nod before starting to play, Alex joining in with the drums too. Y/N grabs Julie’s white microphone after silently asking for her permission, which she granted by nodding her head. “You are a drug You are a poison pill I've got to kick this habit now Or else I never will I loved the rush When you would hold me close But you will not be satisfied Until I overdose” Julie has always admired how she can switch off from the world around her and get into character so quickly. The passion in her eyes and facial expressions are convincing, to say the least. “This is it Hit the brake I am finally awake Let me be Let me go You need help I can't provide I am not qualified This troubled teen is getting clean I say no” “Veronica, who else is gonna be-” Y/N’s eyes widen for a second when Luke chimes in with JD’s line in the song. But recomposes herself and turns to him completely, singing the next part to him. “No, no, no, no! Don't say a word You speak and I cave in You'll twist the truth again And drill deep down beneath my skin You said you'd change And I believed in you But you're still using me to justify the harm you do” She turns to Julie again, as if speaking to the audience like she would in the play. This leaves Luke a bit disappointed. He keeps his eyes on her, a smile tugging at his lips as he admires her. “This is it Hit the brake Call it all my mistake Long as you let me go You need help I can't provide I'm not Bonnie You're not Clyde It's not too late I'm getting straight I say no” Julie gets up from the couch and moves to the keyboard to back up with some softer tones for the bridge as the boys stop playing their instruments, whilst Y/N turns to Luke again. Imagining him as Jason Dean would be a terrible idea, but she’s going with it. “Blame your childhood, blame your dad Blame the life you never had But hurting people? That's your choice, my friend” The boys join in with their instruments again, building up the rest of the bridge. “'Cause I believe that love will win And hate will earn you nothing in the end This is the end” Luke looks at her in admiration and so much love, and decides to say JD’s line, though with a softer touch. “But I love you!” Y/N almost believes it, but recomposes herself, remembering the role she’s supposed to play and withhold during an entire musical. “Dude” She steps away from him while the boys sing the chorus along with her. “This is it I won't cry Starting now, I will try To pay back All the karma I owe Start again Somewhere new Far from cold guys like you So goodbye 'Cause now I I say no Just in time I say no Somehow I'm saying no Just say no I say no No!” The boys stop playing as Y/N lowers her microphone, panting from the last high notes she had to hit, and hit flawlessly. Reggie and Alex exchange glances with Julie while Luke simply stares at Y/N, a content sigh leaving his body. “That was so good!” Reggie makes Y/N snap out her thoughts -- like why Luke’s ‘I love you’ sounded so real. “I got ghost bumps!” He shows his arm even though it’s covered by his leather jacket. Y/N chuckles, biting down her lip nervously. “Let’s do the other one,” Alex then suggests, “Which was that? The duet, right?” Y/N nods her head slowly as nerves course through her body. She knows Luke’s going to want to play JD, like he’s done in the previous song too. “Luke, are you up for it?” The words roll off her lips before she allows them to. He nods his head eagerly, making the others chuckle, knowing why. They’d talked about this song last night, the boys teasing Luke by telling him he should probably learn this by heart if he wants to conquer Y/N’s heart. Y/N nods at Alex, who counts them in before hitting his drums, Julie and Reggie joining in with their instruments when needed. Y/N turns to face Luke, getting into the character of Veronica Sawyer again. “Fine! We're "damaged" Really "damaged" But that does not make us "wise" We're not "special", we're not "different" We don't choose who lives or dies Let's be normal, see bad movies Sneak a beer and watch TV We'll bake brownies or go bowling Don't you want a life with me? Can't we be seventeen? That's all I want to do If you could let me in I could be good with you” Her soft melodic and angelic voice makes Luke all mushy inside. “People hurt us” “Or they vanish” He sounds as vulnerable as JD does in this moment. “And you’re right, that really blows But we let go” “Take a deep breath” “And go buy some summer clothes We’ll go camping” “Play some poker” Y/N chuckles a little as her eyes tear up slightly at the tenderness of his voice. “And we’ll eat some chili fries Maybe Prom night” “Maybe dancing” “Don’t stop looking in my eyes” The power behind her voice surprises Luke that he has no other choice but to look in her eyes. All while the others join in with their instruments at full force. “Your eyes” “Can't we be seventeen Is that so hard to do? If you could let me in I could be good with you” The music gets more powerful, as do their voices. “Let us be seventeen If we've still got the right” “So what's it gonna be? I wanna be with you” “Wanna be with you” “Tonight” The electricity between the two of them and the desire that had been there all along now takes the better of her. In the heat of it all, she launches herself in Luke’s arms, pressing her lips to his in a fiery, passionate kiss. The others don’t stop playing, but they do exchange surprised and relieved glances. She breaks the kiss, but presses her forehead against his as she continues singing the song like the true professional she is. “Yeah, we’re damaged” “Badly damaged” “But your love’s too good to lose” “Hold me tighter” “Even closer” “I’ll stay if I’m what you choose” “Can we be seventeen?” “If I am what you choose” “If we’ve still got the right” “‘Cause you’re the one I choose” “You’re the one I choose” “You’re the one I choose” Suddenly, the lyrics have gotten an entirely different meaning. Especially the way they’re singing it, makes it seem like they’re actually singing it to each other. Like Y/N is singing to Luke and Luke to Y/N. Not Veronica and Jason Dean. Y/N coughs awkwardly as she steps away from Luke, glancing at the others who have their teasing grins at the ready. “That’s in the script…” she tries, but the laughter that erupts from their friends tells her she can’t lie to them. Luke and Y/N stare at each other, a shy smile on their faces as they let them laugh it out. It takes a little while before they actually die down. “Sure, Y/N, that looked very scripted,” Julie says, patting her best friend’s shoulder. There’s nothing left to hide now. You and Luke are very much in love with one another. Though it still feels weird to be in love with a ghost who, quite frankly, would be about twenty years older if he hadn’t died, Y/N couldn’t hide the feelings she had for this boy. There was no hiding it after that outburst they had just now. But maybe that’s for the better.

Thanks to the help of the boys and Julie, Y/N landed the role of Veronica Sawyer in Los Feliz High’s rendition of Heathers the Musical. Not only that, Luke and Y/N have now been dating for a month now. He’s been incredibly supportive over the course of the rehearsals of the musical, and she has been supportive of the band. It’s been fun and games, so far. Making out in the loft after band rehearsals or backstage in the auditorium, singing songs together at the top of their lungs whilst dancing around her room (though her parents complained about that), and cuddling on the couch whilst going over Y/N’s lines together. Nothing ever happened to cause an argument until Luke sat in a rehearsal for the musical when they were going over the Dead Girl Walking scene. Watching his very alive girlfriend kiss another very alive boy isn’t quite the confidence boost. He lasts until halfway through the song when the guy playing JD rips Y/N’s shirt open. That’s when he just had to get out of there. Y/N couldn’t tell anyone they were dating, and if she did, no one believed her she was dating the hologram boy from Julie’s band. Which also meant boys hitting on her when she was in her Veronica costume, mostly the boy who played Jason Dean. “Having a girl on top of you makes you realize things,” he had said. Y/N told him she wasn’t interested, but that didn’t stop the boy from trying. She had told Luke that. Her first mistake. Because ever since then, he has never missed a rehearsal. Y/N knew this scene was coming up, and she had tried to tell Luke he shouldn’t come, but of course he didn’t listen. And now he’s upset with her because she had told him about her minor crush on Christian Slater -- the original JD from the movie -- and about the JD song she loved so much. He knew how sexy she thought that song was, especially when the actor sings it as raw as Jamie Muscato or Ryan McCartan did in the West End and off-Broadway version. She’s not surprised to find Luke and the boys in the studio when she gets back, their instruments in hand, but no Julie to be seen. Only the very familiar riff of a Heathers song sounding through the amps. She halts in the doorway, crossing her arms as she watches the boys. None of them has seen her yet, which gives her the rawest and most honest version of this song. “You chucked me out like I was trash, For that you should be dead— But! But! But! Then it hit me like a flash, What if high school went away instead Those assholes are the key! They're keeping you away from me! They made you blind, messed up your mind But I can set you free!” Reggie jumps around whilst playing the bass, letting himself go on the beat. Even Alex is so lost in his drumming, he doesn’t even notice the girl in the doorway. And Luke has his scowl set on the void, possibly imagining the boy’s face and wanting to punch him in the face. “You left me and I fell apart, I punched the wall and cried— Bam! Bam! Bam!” Y/N flinches at the sudden loudness of his voice. “Then I found you changed my heart and set loose all that truthful shit inside! And so I built a bomb Tonight our school is Vietnam! Let's guarantee they'll never see their senior prom!” His voice grows a little softer at the chorus, showing his more delicate side, the side Y/N has come to love so much. “I was meant to be yours! We were meant to be one! Don't give up on me now! Finish what we've begun! I was meant to be yours!” He sounds angry and frustrated during the next verse, a hint of menace laced in his voice. To his girlfriend, it sounds incredibly sexy. He suddenly seems twice as attractive. “So when the high school gym goes boom with everyone inside— Pchw! Pchw! Pchw! In the rubble of their tomb We'll plant this note explaining why they died!” She sees this as her chance to announce her presence. She quickly runs over to Julie’s microphone and starts singing along on the bridge where the ensemble would join in. Luke’s head snaps up at her, bewilderment and surprise in his eyes, along with some embarrassment. “We, the students of Westerburg High Will die. Our burnt bodies may finally get through To you. Your society churns out slaves and blanks No thanks. Signed the Students of Westerburg High 'Goodbye.'” Y/N gives him a nod of encouragement, telling him to continue. He does as he’s told with even more power behind his voice and even some amusement as a smile plays at his lips. She grabs the microphone from the stand and dances up to him. “We'll watch the smoke poor out the doors. Bring marshmallows, We'll make s'mores! We can smile and cuddle while the fire roars!” Along with Reggie and Alex, Y/N takes care of the backing vocals whilst Luke lets himself go in the song. His voice becomes more and more raspy with the second, sending shivers down his girlfriend’s spine. “I was meant to be yours! We were meant to be one! I can't make this alone! Finish what we've begun! You were meant to be mine! I am all that you need! You carved open my heart! Can't just leave me to bleed!” He turns to her as she offers him her microphone for the next bit. The fact he’s looking into her eyes doesn’t help her subdue her feelings. At all. In fact, it just increases those butterflies and shivers and curling of the toes. “Veronica, open the—open the door, please' Veronica, open the door. Veronica, can we not fight anymore' Please, can we not fight anymore' Veronica, sure, you're scared, I've been there. I can set you free! Veronica, don't make me come in there! I'm gonna count to three! One! Two! Fuck it!” She can’t detain her feelings anymore and crashes her lips onto his again, exactly like that time they rehearsed Seventeen together and they had their first kiss. Reggie and Alex exchange glances, though this time it’s with an eyeroll. Luke pulls away when he has to sing the very last bit of the song, keeping his forehead pressed to hers. His voice is back to its vulnerable side as he stares into his girlfriend’s eyes with so much regret for ever feeling so jealous of any lifer guy she’d ever interacted with. “Please don't leave me alone You were all I could trust I can't do this alone” He steps back from her to hit the last high note whilst Alex goes off on the drums one last time. “Still I will if I must!” Y/N watches her boyfriend for a moment, a tender, proud smile on her face and admiration in her eyes. Luke’s confidence when he plays his music, or any music for that matter, is so hot and attractive to Y/N. Though she loves his more vulnerable and adorable side he mostly pulls up whenever he’s with her, that rockstar side of his really is a close second. “Are you guys really gonna make out every time you sing together or…?” Reggie asks, capturing the couple’s attention. Y/N takes Luke’s hand in hers, intertwining their fingers together whilst her other hand rests on his bicep. “You would too if your boyfriend was so hot,” she answers, and presses a kiss to his bare shoulder. Luke smiles down at her before returning a kiss on her hair. “Now, if you guys don’t have anymore rehearsing to do, I’d like to take Luke to go and rehearse another scene together…” she trails off. As she looks up at her boyfriend and his eyes meet her suggestive glance, he already knows what’s up. “No, we’re done here, I think,” he says quickly, “Right, guys? Yes, yes, we are!” He rushes his girlfriend out the garage and to the house next door to the Molina’s where he helps you ‘rehearse’ the Dead Girl Walking scene.

Taglist: @hannahhistorian92 @marinettepotterandplagg @thequirkybookaholic @bookdealer5 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @hemmingsness @iainttakingshitfromnobody @ifilwtmfc @angryknightstatesmantrash @kiss-themoongoodbye @parkeret @lukeys-giggle @gingerxarmy @lovesanimals @lolychu @perfectlywrongformend3s @luckylouiebug @kiss-themoongoodbye @camiladelrio98 @myfriendscallmebeans

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ill-skillsgard · 4 years ago

Note

I need Faust and Faith's reunion after he's done touring 👉👈 No pressure or anything. I just miss them a lot!

I always miss Fausty boy! I have some other prompts I wanted to incorporate into this one, but it was getting too long. I hope you enjoy!

Warning: 18+ mentions of public sex, mature language, anti-religious overtones, mentions of blood, violence, death, and drug use.

Summary: Faith goes to her first black metal show and asks Faust about the black circle.

- Not based on Lords of Chaos. I use Faust!Valter’s likeness only as inspiration.

Read more Faust x Faith here [x]

The duelling guitars screeched through twin stacks of speakers and filled the auditorium with malfeasance. Faith had never witnessed such a carnal reaction. As she watched from the side stage, the crowd below opened into a whirling pit of black-clad showgoers, pushing, jumping and banging against each other. The drums kicked into a blistering rhythm, and her attention turned toward the man she barely recognized with white and black makeup painting his face like the ghost of a demon.

Faust punished his drumkit with expert precision, his arms blurring in the chaos of their first song. His black hair swung as he banged his head without missing a beat. Horned and studded limbs spilled over the metal barricade, tongues lolled, and eyes lit with blissful fury. The singer's growls seemed to rise from the depths of hell, a monster shrieking at its thralls for more destruction.

Even with earplugs in, Faith felt the music blowing back in waves, shaking the column of her throat and turning her brain to mush. She dared slip one plug out to hear the true volume and quickly stuffed it back in when the intensity struck.

During the ambient interludes between songs, the crowd roared still. A few hundred people raised their hands, praising the men on stage. It reminded her of church, how they would let their eyes roll back, chanting the hymns and facing their palms skyward. This was no church she had ever set foot inside. The walls were painted black, the floor sticky from spilled beer, and its congregation made her gathering's displays of loyalty seem demure. The air reeked of salty skin and malt embedded in the paint from nights like this.

Faith saw people wearing shirts with Faust's band logo on the front, and a burst of pride warmed her belly. Though she was remarkably out of place, there was an odd sense of welcome. She could run headfirst into the crowd and get swallowed up and spit out like anyone else.

When they finished their set, Faust retired his drumsticks to a holder, chugged an entire bottle of beer and took a brief bow to the crowd before walking off stage. Faith bounced as he approached and scooped her off the floor, smearing her face with paint from around his mouth. When he set her down, his lips were partially visible through the now grey muck.

"How was it?" Faust asked.

"You guys are amazing. That's was so cool, babe!"

"Ah, you're just saying that."

"No, really! I can't believe how crazy they went for you!"

Faust sneered playfully, though their reception had been one for the books. "Probably 'cause half the crowd are friends of ours."

"Doesn't matter. You still kicked ass."

Faust's smile was unbreakable from a show well played and seeing his girlfriend waiting for him at the side of the stage. He led her to the green room as stagehands and managers nodded them through and let her dab the corpse paint off her face in the bathroom. Faust sopped up the sweat in his hair with a towel and changed his stage clothes before Faith returned. His bandmates soon joined them, and the chatter was unintelligible. People from other bands came in to talk and congratulate the young group on their first cross-country tour, and soon the back was filled with people hanging VIP badges from their pockets.

Faust pulled Faith from the bedlam before the room grew too hot. They made their way to the main floor and the rows of merchandise tables. Faith couldn't help but feel privileged to have access to the other side of the tables where Faust told her she could stash her coat and purse while a lineup of fans waited to purchase t-shirts and albums. Admirers pulled Faust away several times to take photos and shake hands. Faith watched in awe as people took turns posing with her boyfriend, who stayed looking stoic in his half-melted face paint. Her boyfriend. People from all walks of life wanted proof they'd met him, asking him to sign album covers and tour posters.

When Faust broke away from the clamour of excited metal fans, he took Faith's hand and pulled her through the crowd to a stairwell guarded by security. He flashed his tour badge, and the guard permitted them to the balcony where a few other musicians sat in a less crowded area.

"Come on, let's go outside. I need a fucking smoke," Faust said.

They went through a set of metal doors to an outdoor balcony where two men leaned against the railing, passing a joint and chatting. One spotted Faust, and a smile cracked over his face.

"Hey, Faust. Great show, man. We watched from the balcony. You guys were fucking killer," the man passed the joint to the drummer.

He hauled a significant bout of smoke into his lungs, then expelled it into the night air, handing it back with a nod.

The man refused. "Pass it to the lady."

"She's good," Faust said.

"I'll take a hit," Faith countered.

Faust glanced at her, brow raised high. "You sure?" He chuckled.

"Yes. I'll be fine."

Faust handed her the joint and turned to his fellow musicians. "Thanks. Glad you guys enjoyed the set."

As Faith inhaled, the other man turned to her and offered his hand to shake. "Hey, I'm Janne."

"Faith," she mouthed around a lungful of searing smoke.

"This is Yosh," Janne gestured at the man who'd initially offered Faust the joint. "Good to meet you."

"Is this your girlfriend, Fausty?"

"Yeah. She's my girl."

"Aw, that's cute. Didn't take you for the relationship type, to be honest. You like this scary son of a bitch?" Yosh asked.

Faith giggled as she looked up at the towering man dressed in black while he lit a cigarette. "He's not that scary. At least not to me," said Faith.

"Good man to have by your side at a show. You might get trampled down there."

"This is actually my first show."

Yosh choked on a hit and coughed, "really? And you came to a black metal show? That's ballsy."

"Well, it's not really my thing, but I wanted to see them play. I came from out of town just to be here tonight," Faith said proudly.

"Oh, right. You guys are from the green belt, right? Or should I say, the black circle?" Janne tittered.

Faust's eyes grew stony. "No. I'm not part of that shit. Bunch of fucking posers."

"We were just talking about the church fire there a couple weeks ago. You guys are known for that, aren't you?"

"I don't know. Guess so," Faust shrugged.

"They said there was a body found after they put out the fire, and it was nailed to some pieces of wood...like a cross or something. Can you believe that shit? How metal is that?"

Faith swallowed. She had heard the news break the day after the fire before they announced the unidentified body and after Faust had surprised her at the bus stop. They had prayed about it in church the following week and set up a collection to bulldoze the wreckage and reconstruct the chapel even bigger than before. Her mother was so stricken from the news that Faith had to spend a night at her parents' house consoling her while her father bad-mouthed the city's youth.

Bunch of heathen Satan-worshippers in this town. If I'd have known how disgusting some of these people are, I'd have never moved us out here.

Faith, her sisters and their mother all huddled on the sofa watching reruns of Full House while Stan stood hard-backed at the front window, peering out every few minutes as if the culprit might attack them next.

Oh, Stan, you don't know who did it. You can't point the finger when the police haven't even updated the community. Give the embers a chanced to cool. Besides, it's places like these that need the most help. We'll raise the money. I just hope to God they catch the people who did this.

All Faith could think about as she ate her sundae next to her sister was what she was doing the night after the fire. While the fire department was busy putting out the flames across town, she was pressed against a brick wall getting fucked by one of the heathen Satan-worshippers her father despised. She tried not to connect dots that had no business forming any kind of picture. Faust's appearance had been a coincidence.

I'll tell you who did this... It's that damned black circle. They've done it before, and they'll do it again.

Faust waved a hand in front of Faith's face, and she flinched from her reveries. "Babe? You there?"

"Oh, sorry," she laughed. "Kind of zoned out."

"Wanna head back inside?"

Faith didn't realize she was shivering until Faust rubbed her upper arms. "Sure. Yeah, let's do that."

"One puff of a joint, and you're on another planet, huh? Good seeing you Janne, Yosh... We should tour again."

"Yeah, man. As soon as possible. We're always on the road. We'd love to have you out for as many gigs as you guys can handle."

Faust nodded and clasped hands with both men before urging Faith along with a palm on her bottom. Once they made it inside, he snuck his fingers under her skirt and pinched her hard enough to give her a jolt but not to hurt.

"Faust!"

"What? No one's looking. Hey, you wanna check out our tour bus?"

Faith went to the balcony railing and saw the next band setting up their gear. She pointed below and turned to Faust. "Won't we miss the next band?"

"You actually wanna stay and watch?"

"Uh, yeah! This is my first show. I wanna see all the bands."

"All right. We can stay up here or go to the floor. But I'm warning you, it can get ruthless down there."

"I want to go down. It looks fun."

"Then we have to go now. We'll try to get right up front where you won't get swallowed in a circle pit."

"Really?" Faith gasped. "Like, right up front at the barricade?"

"Sure, why not? If you want the full experience. I'll stand right behind you and make sure crowd-surfers don't land on your head. Then after, I'll show you the bus, and...I dunno...Probably fuck."

"Oh my goodness, Faust. Yeah, right!"

"I'm serious. I'd fuck you right here if there weren't people around."

Emboldened by his suggestion, Faith whirled around and stared up at him with her brows lowered. "What's all this about the black circle?"

Faust scoffed. "What are you talking about?"

"I've heard it mentioned before and that you're part of it. I just wanna know. Is it some kind of gang?"

"Do I look like I'm in a fucking gang? No. It's just some dumb shit they made up in high school."

"They as in your friends?"

"It's stupid and means nothing."

Faith stood in place. "Well, they're saying that church burned down because of your friends. Aren't you afraid someone might ask you questions?"

"I'm not afraid of shit because I've been on tour this whole time."

"Faust—"

"What did I tell you about the twenty questions? Now, do you wanna go watch the show or do you wanna keep talking about irrelevant shit?"

Dissatisfied with his response, Faith clammed up and followed Faust to the main floor. They wriggled through the tightening crowd and got upfront before the lights lowered, and a gust of smoke covered the stage. Ominous chanting heralded in a band dressed in black hoods. Faith watched, awestruck, but in the back of her mind, thoughts of the black circle fermented, giving off a foul smell she couldn't ignore.

After the headlining band opened with pyrotechnics and the frontman tossing a skull of pig's blood over the crowd, Faust took Faith around back, where the tour buses formed a barrier between the street and the venue. He led her inside and turned on the light to reveal the interior in a state of disarray. Beer bottles overflowed in the sink, ramen noodle wrappers littered the floor, and spiked leather decorum hung over seats and tables. There was a shredded porn magazine, its contents pinned to the wall and drawn over with a black marker, breasts shooting fire and snakes slithering out of places that made Faith blush.

"Sorry about the smell. Touring always has a distinct odour of unwashed balls and puke."

Faith tried not to touch any surface until Faust showed her to the back lounge area, where they sat and looked at each other in prolonged silence. Faith reined in a smile while her boyfriend sat back and studied her face.

"I'm glad you came. Sorry that it's probably more chaotic than you expected."

"It's okay. I'm having fun."

"You sure? I know it's not really your scene."

"You're my scene," Faith said.

He reached for her hand. Faith thought he meant to hold her, but he tugged her closer instead, straddling her over his lap. His hands came up under her skirt and over her ass while they kissed. Faust pulled away as she rocked her hips forth and placed his hands on her hips.

"So, how's school?"

"You're really asking me about school when we haven't seen each other in weeks?"

"What? Is there something else you wanna do?"

"I think you know what I want."

"Yeah, but I want you to say it."

Faith peered down the hall, past the bunks, toward the front of the bus. "What if someone comes in?"

"Not like my band hasn't walked in on you sucking my cock before."

"Oh my gosh, don't remind me."

Faust darkened, pulled air through his teeth. "Did you miss me?"

"Of course, I missed you. How is that even a question?"

He tilted his hips up and let Faith drop when he relaxed. She tugged his shirt up to appreciate the trail of hair leading down from his navel.

"What did you miss the most?"

"Your big, throbbing heart," Faith giggled. "I missed cuddling with you and going on walks together. Waking up with you beside me. Your cooking."

Faust pulled her down for a hug. "All right, all right. I get it. You wanna fuck, just not in the bus."

"Do your bandmates fuck girls in here?"

Laughter burst from his mouth as he rocked Faith back and forth. "They fucking wish."

The couple chuckled until another silence proceeded. Faith saw the fiery look in Faust's eyes, the appetite for her body that never tapered, his joy from having her there on his tour bus. Yet, all Faith saw was a building on fire, flames flickering behind his green stare. She smothered the thoughts with a kiss Faust took for permission to explore under her skirt again. Maybe she could kill her suspicions by reminding herself how much he loved her, the lengths he would go to protect her.

Voices yelled outside the bus, distracting Faith but not Faust, who rolled beneath her hips, oblivious to the arousal shooting through his groin.

"Yeah, come on, baby. Pull my cock out and sit on it for me. It'll be quick."

"Faust!" Someone shouted outside of the bus.

Faith pushed on his chest and perked toward the sound.

"Where the fuck is that asshole? First, he fucks off for an entire day, loses his phone, makes us cancel a show, and now the prick can't be dicked to help load out because his bitch is here? Getting real fucking sick of the bullshit, Ola."

"Mordy, chill out, man."

The bus door opened, followed by a waft of cigarette smoke. Boot tread hammered across the floor, and Mordy swayed through to the back, scoffing when he saw Faust with his girlfriend perched on his lap.

"You wanna take apart your drumkit, or are you just gonna let it sit in the way of everyone's gear? Oh, sorry, should have known you were too busy to be fucking bothered."

Faust lifted Faith off his thighs, and she bounced on the sofa as he shot up and stared Mordy down. The bass player didn't flinch.

"What? What're you gonna do, Faust? Punch me out? Good thing it's our last show. Wouldn't want your personal business getting in the way of the biggest tour of our fucking lives so far."

"You don't know shit, so I suggest you shut your mouth."

"No, I'm not gonna shut my mouth. Someone has to stand up to you, and none of these pussies will. Go load out your fucking gear, man!"

Faust smelled whiskey on Mordy's breath. He was far too sober to start a fight with the bass player and nodded, shouldering past him. Mordy crashed into the wall and cursed as the drummer stomped off the bus, leaving Faith fidgeting with the edge of her skirt and unsure if she should follow. Mordy scoffed at her and exited the bus after Faust, shouting until she no longer heard him.

When Faust returned, Faith stood up and wrang her wrists. "Should I leave?"

"We're both leaving," Faust muttered as he tore open the zipper on his backpack and scrounged up his clothes and stage effects to stuff inside. He ducked into the small fridge and took four bottles of beer, sticking two in the holders of his bag and pocketing the other two inside his leather jacket.

"Come on. We're out of here."

"But, neither of us have a car, and we're far from home," Faith said.

"Call a cab."

Outside of the bus, guitar cases and boxes of merch waited for loading. Faust opened a tote, wrenched open a steel moneybox and took some of the cash inside. He found Faith's coat and purse and passed them to her before kicking a hole into the plastic container. Mordy and Ola noticed this as Faust walked away with Faith in tow.

"Hey, asshole! What do you think you're doing? You can't just fucking take off with the merch money!"

Faust turned around, grabbed his crotch and flipped them off. "Suck my dick, fuckbags. Find a new drummer."

#faust x faith #valter skarsgard fanfiction #fanfiction

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mandowh0re · 4 years ago

Text

Remember Me

Chapter 3

Summary: While cleaning up the timelines that he broke, Loki meets and inevitably loses the one person that’s understood him in life. But he’s not losing you without a fight.

A/N: Beta’d by the ever beautiful @edgyvege. Go show her some love!

Warnings: Mention of suicide, attempted kidnapping

Word Count: 2892

Happy Reading!

When Loki is finally confident enough that he wouldn’t look like a fool, he settles down in his bed and grabs the book you had given him, and enters the number inside the cover.

He ignores the fact that his hands tremble as he taps ‘call’ with his index finger.

The phone rings a few times before you pick up.

“Hello?”

“Hello, darling.”

“Loki?”

“Is anyone else calling you ‘darling’? That would certainly be a shame,” he grins as he settles back into the pillows behind him.

He hears you giggle before you respond, “No. Just you. I think if anyone else called me that I’d punch them.”

“That would be intriguing.”

You giggle again, “I miss you.”

It’s a moment before he replies. Loki bites his lip, butterflies coming to life in his stomach, “It’s only been a few days, dear.”

“I know. I still miss you though,” you rub your finger across the wood grain of the counter.

“I miss you as well. Please know, this is not how I would court you if I had things my way.”

“Court me?”

“I-” he sits up, “Ah. I thought… Was I not-“

“I’m kidding,” You interrupt his sudden anxious rambling, “Calm down.”

He hears you chuckle and he takes a few careful deep breaths.

Joking.

Typical of you.

“You think you are funny, darling?” Loki pokes as he rests back into his pillow.

“I like to believe so,” You turn away from the counter and lean against it.

“You are lucky that I find you so endearing,” His voice is deep.

“Is that so?” You tongue your cheek.

“It is,” His voice is even and playful again.

The conversation flows from there, easily and freely. The two of you talk about nothing and everything for hours. When the conversation would die down, one of you would grasp for a new topic, neither one of you wanting to end the call.

It becomes a daily routine. Every evening, Loki would call and the two of you would often talk late into the night until you didn't have a choice but to go to bed for work the next morning.

It’s Thursday again, and you’re floating around your shop, hanging some new decor you had bought to brighten up the small space.

It’s been two months since Loki first showed up, and you can’t remember a time when you were happier.

There was no label between the two of you. You sometimes wished there was. But Loki, though confident and smooth talking, seemed to hold some reservations. He never shared them with you, but you could tell in the small changes of his expressions or body language when the flirting began to go too far, or how he expertly changed the subject if the conversation veered too far into relationship territory.

But even so, you were content. You finally had two good friends, after years of pushing away anyone who got too close. The fear of hurting those closest to you, or vise versa, always creeping in the back of your mind.

Your mind tried to make you do the same with Loki, and eventually Thor, but the rational part of you knew that they could protect themselves. At the same time, something deep inside of your soul somehow knew that you could trust the raven-haired god.

And it annoyed you to no end. You always did your best to follow reason. It was your way of ensuring your own and others’ safety. But it felt impossible to ignore the feeling of security you had around him.

The windchimes tinkle once again and you smile to yourself. You’re standing on a chair to reach the low ceiling, taping some colorful paper flowers to the dull off-white paint.

“Hey, Loki.” You greet happily, applying the last piece of tape and stepping down from the chair.

There’s a hand on your waist, and, thinking it’s Loki, you turn and go to place your hands on his chest only to see a tall, brooding man behind you. You jump, and take a step backwards.

He’s dressed in civilian clothes, but you know better. You see the edges of a tattoo peeking from just beneath his jacket collar. There’s an indent in his jeans, suggesting he’s concealing a knife. And his boots are almost military grade.

Your eyes flick towards the door, hoping to see Loki walk in.

He doesn’t.

“Can I help you with something?” You ask, taking a subtle step back.

His eyes scrape down your body and you’re suddenly sick to your stomach. Whether he’s sizing you up, searching for weapons, or just looking at you like a piece of meat, you’re unsure. But you don’t like it.

“Your presence is requested.”

You raise a brow and try to take another step back, but the bookshelf behind you keeps you from moving any further.

“You should leave,” You tell him, narrowing your eyes, “And tell Hayward to go to hell.”

He grabs your wrists and pulls you flush against him, his hot breath fanning across your face, “Listen here, little girl. You’re coming with me, quietly. I have never failed a mission, and I don’t plan on starting today.”

Realizing you have no other options, you brace yourself against the shelf behind you as you begin to call upon the energy around you, white light balling between your captive hands. It reflects against the various decorations you had just hung up, them swaying just slightly and the growing wind around you, and just before you blast the agent to hell, a different force rips him from you.

Because his hands are still connected to you, the force makes you tumble forwards, slamming into the ground with him. You lift your head from the carpet and look up, confused as hell, and your eyes immediately land on Loki. He must have come in right after you had been grabbed. You didn’t even hear the windchimes this time.

Loki’s eyes seem to glow just slightly, and he looks absolutely furious. He leans down to pick your attacker up by the throat and slams him against a wall, a knife materializing in Loki’s other hand. He raises it to the man’s throat in an instant, leans in, and sneers, “I should kill you where you stand for even gazing upon her,” Loki growls, pressing the knife further into his skin and drawing blood, “Touching her?” Another millimeter deeper, “That deserves a punishment worse than death.”

Your brain suddenly catches up to the situation and you run up to Loki, grabbing his arm, “Hey! Hey, I’m okay!” You tug at him gently, hoping to keep him from committing murder in the middle of your store.

“Brother!” A familiar voice booms behind you. You spin on your heels to see Thor, an annoyed expression on his face.

“He attacked me,” You blurt, knowing that Loki could get in a lot of trouble for this outburst, “Loki was just trying to help.”

Thor looks at you, his expression softening, before he looks back to the other two men and walks over to them. He places a large hand on Loki’s shoulder, “Brother, let me deal with him. We do not want to cause a spectacle.”

Loki’s hold on the man tightens, before he rips himself away, his knife disappearing allowing a trickle of blood to leave the cut on the man’s throat.

Thor made a call and the man was subsequently arrested and taken away.

After the cruiser drives off, Thor walks back into the shop where he had left you and Loki, and offers you a kind smile.

“Brother, what do you say we bring her back to the compound for the evening?”

Loki’s head snaps up, his eyes landing on his brother’s, “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Thor shrugs, “I don’t see why not.”

Loki looks to you and intertwines his fingers with yours, “What do you think?”

You smile back at him, squeezing his hand, “Sounds good to me.”

***

After locking up the store, Thor and Loki guide you to the empty alleyway they usually use for Loki to transport them.

There’s a tingling sensation all over your body, and gold specks dot your vision before you’re suddenly on a grass lawn. You look up and your eyes blow wide, seeing the Avengers Compound right in front of you. The place is huge. You’d seen pictures before, but never imagined it to be as large and complex as what you’re currently seeing.

As Thor leads you both toward the silver and glimmering building in front of you, you feel Loki’s hand slip into yours again.

You look up to him and smile before your eyes are pulled away, meeting the glances of the compound staff as your presence momentarily distracts them from their current tasks.

You step into Loki’s space, pushing yourself closer to his side, making the others’ glances fade from your attention as his proximity makes you feel safer.

Once making your way past the main yard, and a long driveway, you arrive at what you assume is the main entrance of the building, though you do not stop there. Thor finally stops when you meet him in a back hallway near one of two elevators. Thor presses the call button, taking you gods know where.

You’re still pressed into Loki, though now you’re using him as a crutch, feeling a little faint. Whether from the dramatic turn of events or the teleportation, you have no idea. Either way, this wasn’t what you had expected for today and in all honesty, you’re incredibly overwhelmed.

“Is everything alright?” Loki asks, noticing the extra weight against him and your increasingly labored breaths.

You nod, but the movement makes you dizzy and you clutch onto Loki, eyes screwing shut, “I think I need to lie down.”

Thor and Loki exchange worried glances.

“Take her to your room. I shall speak with the others.”

Loki nods, carefully sweeping you into his arms. As soon as the metal doors slide open, he makes a beeline towards his own room. He unlocks his door with magic, a shimmering green momentarily covering the knob before disappearing. The door opens itself, allowing Loki to keep from jostling you too much.

He walks over to his bed, carefully depositing you on top. He grabs the soft green throw blanket that Peter had gotten him as a welcome gift some time ago and carefully places it over your form. He leans down and brushes the hair away from your face, nimble fingers softly caressing your face.

“You have had quite a day. Rest now.”

You smile at him, pulling the blanket farther over yourself.

“Stay?”

Loki smiles warmly, before climbing into bed with you, his back resting against the headboard. You turn to snuggle into him, and soon you’re fast asleep.

***

You wake a few hours later, feeling much better than you had earlier in the day. You notice that the space next to you is now empty, and you sit up to take in your surroundings.

The room is a generous size. The walls are painted grey, and the bed is larger than any bed you’ve slept on, adorned with a fluffy and extremely soft black comforter. There’s a dark stained heavy wooden dresser against one of the walls, a large gold mirror hanging above it. A large bookshelf lines the same wall, filled to the brim with books, and you notice that every book you recommended to him in the last two months were on a shelf of their own.

On another wall, a desk is tucked into the corner, neat and organized with a small black leather book sitting atop. To the left of the large bed is a closed door, and on the right is a door that’s slightly ajar, and you can see it’s an ensuite bathroom.

One of the walls is completely made up of floor to ceiling windows, and the room faces the west so you can see the colors of the sky morphing into an array of purples, oranges, and pinks as the sun sets. It’s a breathtaking sight.

You climb out of the bed, keeping the fluffy blanket around your shoulders. Curious as to where Loki had gone, you leave the room, looking both ways to try and remember which way you had come from earlier. Choosing at random, you begin your small journey, hoping to everything that you don’t run into an Avenger. How the hell were you supposed to explain that one?

Apparently, you chose correctly because the further you go, you begin to hear voices.

You peek around the corner to see a large open living area, and your jaw drops. Whenever you imagined the Avengers’ living space, you imagined sleek, modern decor, and expensive as shit furniture that would look as if nobody even used it.

And while you were mostly correct, you were also met with a bright room with floor to ceiling windows, picture frames on the walls and tables. The black leather chairs and couches looked well loved, and there were different colored throw blankets all over the place.

Loki was sat next to Thor on a loveseat, while several other members of the team were scattered throughout the room.

You hadn’t even been listening to what they were saying, but you hear your name and you immediately hone in on the conversation, hiding behind the wall once more.

“All I’m saying is that a little notice would have been nice.” You think the voice belongs to Tony Stark.

“If it was any other circumstance, it would have been planned ahead of time. But after she was attacked, I don’t believe any of us were comfortable with leaving her alone.” That was Thor.

“Speaking of, I called the police department to ask about her attacker. They said he committed suicide with cyanide.” Natasha states.

The entire room falls into silence, before Steve pipes up, “That sounds a bit too familiar.”

“Why would HYDRA be after her?” Clint asks, and everyone looks to Loki.

Loki shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

“Brother?” Thor pushes.

Loki sighs, “I promised her I would not tell a soul.”

“Look, Loki,” Steve moves closer to the edge of his seat, “I understand you want to protect her, but we can’t help you protect her without knowing why she’s being targeted.”

“I can protect her myself.” Loki growls, but Thor gently places his hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“You can, but she would be safer with all of us protecting her. You have not dealt with HYDRA before, and therefore do not understand their capabilities. You trust me, and I trust my team. Tell us why Y/N is being hunted.” Thor tries to reason.

Loki sighs again, and you wonder what the hell they’re talking about. It wasn’t HYDRA who was after you. It was SWORD… Right? You feel nerves begin to take hold of you, and you clutch at the fabric around your shoulders.

And how the hell did Loki know why they wanted you? You hadn’t told him anything about that specific part of your past or of your abilities, much less making him promise anything.

So your heart falls to your stomach when you hear Loki’s next words.

“She has these… Abilities. She can manipulate the energy around her to do just about anything she wants. Back in timeline 656, she used her powers to help the resistance and destroy that timeline. But here, in this timeline, she has yet to mention these powers to me. I think she’s afraid. I know that her parents were SHIELD agents and were killed while on a mission when she was ten years of age.”

“If her parents were part of SHIELD, they may have been involved with HYDRA.” Tony offers.

“I think we have a visitor.” Wanda says, effectively ending the conversation.

You curse internally, but don’t move in hopes that maybe she was talking about someone else.

But suddenly Loki steps around the corner, a horrified look on his face, “Darling?”

You look up at him, and suddenly you’re angry. You’re unsure why. Maybe it’s because you worked so hard in life to stay off the radar of people like the Avengers. Maybe it’s because your efforts in keeping your secret to yourself were in vain because somehow Loki still knows. Maybe it’s because you’re suddenly terrified. Of yourself, of the Avengers, of HYDRA.

Your eyes flick over to the Avengers, who are now all looking at you in silence.

Loki moves to touch you, but suppressed survival instincts kick in and a blast of white energy bursts from your body, sending Loki flying into another wall. Your hands fly to your mouth.

“I- I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean-”

Thor steps closer to you, hands up in a placating gesture, “It’s alright. Take a breath. Nobody is going to hurt you.”

You take a step back, seeing all the horrified eyes on you.

Loki can see where this is going, so with a flick of his hand, he puts you to sleep, jumping to catch you before you hit the ground.

“This is what I wanted to avoid.” He spits, hoisting you up for the second time that day.

“Loki-” Thor tries, but he’s gone before the god can finish.

***

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starksweasley · 5 years ago

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the art of being afraid

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader, pogues x platonic!reader

summary: the three times jj told you he loved you, and the one time you said it back.

note: this was inspired by the song “she’s not afraid” by one direction! also, send requests/messages/criticism/anything to my inbox; i’m open to pretty much anything :)

warning: angst, swearing, tears, underaged drinking, fluff

word count: 4.9k+

The full moon illuminated your room as you rushed to get ready for tonight’s rooftop party. You hummed as your hands delicately brushed blush onto the apples of your cheeks. Under the moonlight, you could have been mistaken for a greek goddess. You were swiping on a layer of dark red lipstick when the sound of a knock against your window startled you. You whipped around to see a golden-haired boy with a cheeky grin plastered onto his face as he balanced his body over the edge of your balcony.

“JJ!” In your haste, you struggled to unlatch the lock on the window. The moment it was open, JJ hopped into your room with his hands behind his back. “Hey, baby,” he greeted as you hurried to close your bedroom window before anyone in Figure Eight noticed something strange and decided to spread rumors about you.

“How the hell did you get up here? My room’s on the third floor!” You exclaimed.

JJ shrugged. “I climbed. Easy.”

You stood with your mouth open and a hundred scenarios ran through your head, all revolving around what could have happened if he had fallen from the third story of your house. JJ, well versed with the look in your eye, immediately decided to change the subject. He brought out his hands from behind his back and showed you a singular rose that looked like it had been plucked from your yard. “I came to give this to you.”

You gently plucked the flower from his hand. A thorn pricked your thumb but you didn’t mind. “It’s beautiful.”

“I know. It reminded me of you,” JJ responded without missing a beat, causing heat to creep up your neck. The boy’s hands lingered near yours and you leaned closer, desperately wanting to feel his skin against yours.

“Would you zip up my dress?” The black dress you were wearing hugged your body exquisitely. The top was cut a little low, just enough to tease the golden-haired boy beside you. You turned so JJ could pull up the zipper you couldn’t reach no matter how much you stretched. The boy sharply inhaled when he saw your bare back. His fingers danced on your soft skin and a shiver ran through your body, causing JJ to chuckle. “I didn’t know I had that effect on you, L/N.”

You huffed. “Shut up and pull the zipper, Maybank.” Your words came out annoyed but they didn’t phase JJ in the slightest. He simply pulled up your zipper and moved his hands so they rested on your hips. You hummed at the contact.

JJ began to slowly sway and you followed, your hands shooting up to hold his to your body. The two of you blissfully danced to the music in your heads and you closed your eyes, letting your body feel every small movement. JJ’s lips pressed a kiss under your ear. “You know,” he whispered, “we could dance like this all night at the party if we told everyone about us.”

Your body froze under his hands. “J, you know we can’t do that.” You turned just in time to see your favorite boy’s face drop at your words. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight.

JJ’s hands dropped from your hips and your body felt cold without his touch. His gaze fixed itself on your neck, refusing to meet your face. With a sigh, you brought your hands up to gently cup his cheeks. “Baby, look at me.”

JJ’s cerulean eyes finally met your Y/E/C ones. “I want to tell people, J, you know I do. But if the wrong people find out, we wouldn’t be able to be us anymore. You understand that, don’t you?” JJ nodded but his eyes had left yours again. “Well, uh, I gotta go,” JJ muttered before removing himself from your grasp. “See you at the party?”

He was already climbing out the window when you answered, “I’ll be there in ten.” The golden-haired boy sent you one last smile before disappearing into the night. You stared at the spot you had last seen him and couldn’t help but think his smile had been a little less bright than usual. After a moment, you decided that you were probably just imagining it. You hurried to put on your heels and check your appearance in the mirror one last time before noticing the rose that lay forgotten on your bed. On impulse, you picked it up and tenderly tucked it into your hair.

You snuck past the service entrance at the back of your house and moments later, your feet were padding through the warm night sand next to the pool. The party was down the street on the terrace of Sarah Cameron’s house and you walked absentmindedly, the route to her house engraved in your brain because of the hundreds of times you had gone there over the years.

Sarah was a Kook princess, but you were the Kook princess. You never meant to draw attention to yourself, it just seemed to naturally fall upon you. The Kook lifestyle was everything to you until you met JJ Maybank. He was wild and so beautifully chaotic: everything you ever yearned to be. The golden-haired boy had pulled you into his world and before you knew it, the galas and the boats didn’t matter so much anymore. You had a foot in both worlds, longing to jump into the deep end with the Pogues but unable to break the chains of Kook pressure.

The moment you stepped onto the terrace, you felt every eye in the room trace your movements. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary so you simply tilted your chin up higher and looked for a familiar mop of blonde hair. You spotted the Pogues in a corner with Sarah and smiled with relief, about to head their way when a hand closed around your arm. You looked behind you to see Rafe Cameron grinning down at you and suppressed the urge to roll your eyes.

“You look gorgeous tonight, darling.”

You yanked your arm from the tall boy’s grip and took a couple of steps back for good measure. “I don’t want any coke, Rafe,” you seethed through clenched teeth. “I suggest you go find a touron to hassle and leave me alone.”

You turned away, thinking he would leave you alone but Rafe Cameron was no quitter. “C’mon, darling,” he urged, “Don’t be like that. Just one drink.”

“I said no.”

Rafe was getting irritated now. “What, are you fucking some dirty pogue down at The Cut? You know I could make you feel so much better.” His hands were on your arms again and you felt your heartbeat speed up. His grip tightened and you were about the scream to cause a scene when an arm wrapped around you from behind and wrenched you away from the Cameron boy.

“She said no, Cameron.” JJ’s sea breeze scent invaded your senses and you immediately relaxed with his touch. Rafe’s eyes moved from your face to the point where JJ’s body was linked with your own and something shifted behind his eyes. “Maybank? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Y/N.”

You sharply inhaled at Rafe’s accusation. If he knew, it was only a matter of time before everyone else connected the dots. You swiftly untangled yourself from JJ’s arms and lightly shoved him away. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” The moment those words left your lips, you hurried away from the pair and immersed yourself in the mess of party-goers dancing in the middle of the terrace.

No matter how many tequila shots you drowned, the dejected look on JJ’s face from when you pushed him away in front of Rafe continuously popped up in your head. The alcohol in your bloodstream slowly unraveled the tension on your mind and you found yourself swaying your hips with a bottle of cold beer clutched in your hand. In the middle of the crowd, you felt hands all over your figure but you really couldn’t care less. The feeling of sweaty bodies pressing against yours in the dark only exaggerated your intoxicated state and you began to lose yourself in the music. However, your bliss only lasted for a few minutes before the bottle of beer in your hands was suddenly snatched away.

“Hey!” You slurred. A scowl formed on your lips when you noticed JJ frowning down at you with the nearly empty bottle in his hands. You quickly reached for it but he moved faster, downing the last bit of alcohol in it and tossing the bottle into the nearest trash can.

“That was mine, asshole!” You drunkenly exclaimed but JJ ignored you. “Shut up and dance with me.”

JJ’s hands comfortably found your waist and you interlocked your hands behind his neck. Even in the blackness of the night sky, looking into his striking eyes was like being splashed with a bucket of cold water. Suddenly, you didn’t feel so drunk anymore. Your hands began to loosen from around his neck but the boy tugged you even closer to him.

“J, we shouldn’t be doing this,” you whispered. “Not here.”

“We’re just dancing, baby. People dance at parties,” he calmly responded but you shook your head. “Someone’s going to notice something. We can’t risk it. Not now; not after everything we’ve been through.”

JJ’s eyes turned stormy as his heart wrenched in his chest. “All these other guys, they can’t tear their eyes away from you, Y/N!” The frustration in his tone almost made you flinch. “Why don’t you want everyone to know that I’m the only one that gets to take you home?”

It was too dark to see if anyone was watching but only a few inches away from JJ’s face, you noticed a single tear roll down his flushed cheeks. Your hands gently cupped the golden boy’s face for the second time that night. “I want to tell everyone, J. I swear I do. I just can’t. But baby, that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.” You paused, waiting for him to respond but he stood with his lips pursed tightly. Your hands dropped to your sides. “JJ, if my parents found out- fuck, my life would be over. And the rest of the Kooks, they wouldn’t take to us lightly either. You saw how Rafe acted tonight-and he didn’t even know anything!”

JJ had heard enough. “Why do you care what they think?” His hands furiously tugged through his golden locks as he found the right words to voice. “I don’t give a fuck what anyone on this damn island says about us Y/N, because I love you.”

Your breath hitched in the back of your throat. Before you could even think about his words, JJ’s mouth was crushed on yours. Shrouded by the darkness of the night, you felt your stomach twist into knots at the feeling of his soft lips on your own. The urge to draw his body impossibly close to yours filled your muscles; you wanted to hold your boy there and never let him go but you couldn’t. He had said that he loved you. Someone in this screwed up world loved you. For some reason, you couldn’t wrap your mind around the thought. It wasn’t real. Something in your heart told you it couldn’t be real. The realization hit you like a flash of lightning and you suddenly pushed away from the boy in front of you.

JJ’s lipstick-stained lips pouted in a frown and his hair was unruly from where you had run your fingers through it. You desperately wanted to push the stray locks from his forehead but you couldn’t bring yourself to touch him again. “I-I have to go,” you stuttered.

“What? Y/N, what’s wrong? Tell me what’s wrong, baby-”

“I said I have to go, JJ!” You roughly pushed away the hand he had reached out to you and turned on your heel. JJ’s voice echoed after you, calling out your name, but you couldn’t bear to turn around. Seeing his face might have convinced you to actually believe him.

That’s how you left him that night: lips swollen, mascara smudged, and heart racing in a million different directions.

. . .

The Pogues could tell something was wrong. You and JJ were usually attached at the hip and the whole town knew it, but now you seemed to be avoiding JJ like the plague. If the blonde boy was going to be somewhere, you refused to go. Your friend circle had grown limited over the years, and avoiding the only people you could call family wasn’t good for your health. Every time Kie and John B. showed up at your doorstep to haul you to the beach, they found you with an (almost always) empty bottle of tequila clutched to your chest.

JJ wasn’t much better off. He still surfed daily and showed up for his shift at work with Pope, but the light behind his eyes was dimmed. No matter how much Kie pestered JJ to tell her what had happened or Pope tried to pull you out of your bed, neither of you relented.

Although the pogues couldn’t pull you out of your head, Sarah Cameron had other plans. On a hot Thursday night, she barged into your room with an enormous bowl of popcorn and Kie in tow. “Y/N!”

You were laying in bed with your eyes closed and music blaring into your ears. Rolling her eyes, Sarah yanked out your headphones. Your eyes widened at the sudden intrusion. “Sarah, what the-” But Sarah wasn’t having any of it. “You can get up yourself or I’m going to haul your ass up. Your choice.”

You looked at Kie with a “is she kidding right now” look but Kiara simply shrugged; everyone knew the Cameron girl wasn’t accustomed to the word “no.” It must run in the family.

With a heavy sigh, you sat up and made room for the other two on your bed. They settled in on either side of you and Sarah plopped the popcorn on your lap. You greedily scooped a handful in your hands; you couldn’t remember the last time you had eaten a full meal. Kie uncomfortably cleared her throat. “Y/N, what happened between you and JJ?”

You didn’t answer, licking butter off your fingers and flipping through your favorite movies on Netflix. Kie exchanged a concerned glance with Sarah and the two proceeded to frown at you. “JJ hasn’t been, well, JJ this week,” Kiara cautiously continued. “He smiles but his laughs sound hollow. His eyes don’t shine anymore, Y/N. He needs you.”

You didn’t realize you had been crying until you felt the moisture on your cheeks. You hastily wiped it away. “I don’t wanna talk about it. Can we just watch the movie now?”

The minutes passed by slowly. You tried to focus on the movie playing on your TV but all you could see were your friends’ concerned faces. You were just about to kick them out and call it a night when a frantic knock on your window drew you out of your haze.

“What the hell?” Kie and Sarah chorused together. “Who’s at your window?” Your chest tightened. You didn’t need to open the window to know who was behind the glass. You slowly undid the latch on the window to reveal JJ, his face covered in the moon’s shadow. The two of you stared at each other. Your mouth opened but immediately snapped shut when you realized you didn’t know what to say to the boy in front of you.

Sarah peered around your shoulder and a slight gasp escaped her lips. “Oh.” She backed away from you, grabbing Kiara’s hand and leading her out of the room. “Let’s go, Kie. We have to, uh-” She tripped over her words but her voice had already drifted out of your mind. The only thing you could hear was the heavy rise and fall of JJ’s breath, slightly out of rhythm after the three-story climb to your room.

“Can I come in?” JJ’s voice sounded small, almost broken. You didn’t respond, simply opening the window wider. The golden-haired boy hopped into your room and you thought you heard him utter a small groan when his feet slammed onto the floor. When JJ moved into the light, you sharply inhaled. Dark bruises scattered his face and neck. Even though it looked like it was cleaned, the cut on his lip burned a bright red. JJ’s lip trembled and you didn’t stop to ask questions before throwing your arms around him. You tried to be gentle so as to not hurt him but his grip on you tightened, leaving not even an inch between your bodies.

Warm tears fell down JJ’s cheeks and onto your shoulder. “My dad, he-he-damn it I can’t Y/N-” The golden boy sniffled and you felt tears pool in your own eyes. JJ always crashed at your place or the Chateau on nights the whole gang kept John B company. You never asked why but you knew something at home bothered him. Now you knew. It was his dad. His dad abused him. The whole time you had known JJ, you wanted nothing more than to protect him and now you felt like you had failed miserably. If JJ had been at your place, maybe he wouldn’t have gotten hurt. Maybe he would have been just a little less broken.

JJ’s sobs grew louder and tears were shamelessly falling down your cheeks. You softly pressed your lips under his ear. “Shhh, baby. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” JJ nodded against your neck as you soothingly combed through his hair. “C’mon, J, let’s go to bed.” You supported the boy’s weight as he stumbled over his feet and landed on the bed with a quiet thump. You furiously wiped away the wetness on your cheeks before he noticed.

JJ rested his head on your pillow, breathing in your scent and sighing in content. You delicately immersed yourself in the covers next to him, careful not to irritate any of the boy’s wounds any further. The two of you laid like that in silence while JJ’s breathing returned to normal. His hand slowly itched towards yours and the slightest brush of fingertips sent sparks flying up your body.

“Y/N?”

“Mhm?”

“Can you hold me?” JJ’s voice broke.

You turned your head to look at the defeated boy. “I don’t want to hurt you, J.”

“You could never hurt me.”

“Ok.” Your voice was almost as small as his. You gently pulled his head onto your chest and wrapped an arm around his middle. One hand lightly pulled at his hair and the other traced shapes on his abdomen under his grey tank. He didn’t say anything for a couple minutes so you assumed he had fallen asleep, but his head shifted on your chest. “Y/N?”

“Yeah, JJ?”

He retreated back to silence. You weren’t sure if he really had dozed off this time or he just didn’t want to say what he was about to say. After several moments, the golden-haired boy took in a rattling breath and a small smile graced his features. “I love you.”

For reasons you couldn’t quite put your finger on, you felt your heart begin to sink cowardly. JJ wanted to love. He wanted to be loved. But he couldn’t love you. You had never been loved by anyone. How could this perfect boy change that? You gently shook your head against the smushed pillow. “It’s not real, JJ.”

JJ’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What’s not real?”

“You don’t love me. You just think you love me because you want someone to love. It’s not real. It can’t be,” you whispered in the dark.

JJ wanted to argue. He wanted to grab your shoulders and shake you until you realized how damn much his heartbeat for you. Hell, sometimes he thought it beat only for you. But the night’s events had taken a toll on his mind and body and he couldn’t do anything but softly hum, “You’re wrong, Y/N. You’re just scared. Why are you so afraid to fall in love?”

Perhaps JJ had fallen asleep that instant, or maybe he waited as long as he could to hear your answer. Eventually, he succumbed to his fatigue. Still, as you held the sleeping boy in your arms, no answer appeared in your mind. You spent the whole night trying to find it, but the sun came up and you were still as oblivious to your heart as you had been under the light of the moon.

. . .

As far as the Pogues could tell, everything was back to normal. You inserted yourself back into your social life, regularly surfing with the boys and crashing Kook parties with Kie and Sarah. JJ wore long sleeve shirts in an effort to cover up the battle scars only you’d seen, but the twinkle behind his eyes was back. On the outside, it seemed as if you and JJ had mended whatever it was you had broken in the first place. On the HMS Pogue, he laid his head on your lap like he always did. During late nights at the Chateau, you two shared a can of beer while your legs intertwined on the recliner as they always did.

But you knew that nothing was the same. JJ stopped coming to your house. The sheets on your bed felt cold and uninviting without the golden-haired boy’s saltwater scent all over them. At night, you longed for his sweet kisses but when you turned you were met with nothing more than an empty pillow. He hadn’t come out and said it, but you could tell that he didn’t want to do it anymore. JJ was always around you, but you weren’t Y/N and JJ anymore. You were just Y/N, and he was just JJ. Nevertheless, the ache in your heart dulled as you learned to push it away from your mind. For now, ignoring the problem felt like the best way to face it.

The summer sky boasted a brilliant orange and a calm breeze settled over the coast for the night. You found yourself laying against JJ’s chest on a hammock as the sun slowly descended into the ground. Sarah was sprawled over John B and Kie held Pope’s head on her stomach as their hammock rocked back and forth in the wind. No one said a word; it was hard to rip your eyes away from the changing colors of the clouds.

As the sun sunk down and the stars emerged, the Pogues one by one made their way back into the Chateau, leaving only you and JJ gently swinging in the breeze. His hand was tangled in your hair and you intertwined your fingers with his, wanting to sustain his warmth against your skin. You signed in content. “I miss you,” you whispered.

JJ sharply inhaled. In a flash, his hands left your body and he was ungracefully pulling himself from the hammock. “Hey! Where are you going?” You questioned as you hauled yourself up into a sitting position. The boy's hands hastily ran through his hair, something you noticed he did when he was upset. “I can’t do this anymore, Y/N!”

Your stomach dropped at his confession. You knew what was coming but you couldn’t help but ask, “Do what, J?”

His eyes widened as if he couldn’t believe you were asking the question. “This, Y/N. Us! I can’t keep pretending like we aren’t broken, like everything’s fine.”

“We are fine,” your voice cracked but you don’t think JJ noticed. He stepped forward so aggressively you flinched, but all he did was bring his palms up to hold your face. “Do you know what I’m doing right now?” His thumbs swept over your cheekbones. “I’m holding my entire world in my hands. You. That’s it. That’s all I need because I love you.”

Your lip trembled. “JJ-” You softly started but he wasn’t finished yet.

“But I can’t go on like this anymore, Y/N. I can’t keep holding you like this, no matter how bad I want to, if you don’t tell me how you feel.” He paused and took a deep breath, as if it was physically hurting him to say these words. “You keep saying it’s not real, and maybe it’s not. I’ve already learned throughout my life that I’m not capable of love. But you’re just as messed up as I am.” JJ’s hands tightened around your face. “You’re not afraid of scary movies, and you’re not afraid of all the attention. You’re not afraid of running wild with me, but you’re so damn afraid of being who you’re meant to be in this world. You’re afraid of falling in love.”

You wanted to open your mouth to argue. To yell at him for causing the pit in your stomach to widen. But you couldn’t, because you knew he was right. A whimper escaped your lips at the realization. “JJ, I don’t want to be broken,” you breathed.

A small smile appeared on JJ’s lips. “It’s ok to be a little screwed up, baby, because who isn’t?” The boy in front of you took a deep breath as his smile faltered. “But I can’t be with you. Not like this. It hurts a little too much.” His hands dropped from your face and your skin tingled from the loss of warmth. “Goodbye, Y/N.” JJ pressed a kiss on your forehead that was so light you barely felt it. And then he was gone.

You sat in shock for several seconds. You knew this was coming, so why did it hurt so much when it finally hit you? “JJ?” But the blonde wasn’t anywhere in sight. That’s when your throat wrenched out a sob, a sound so absolutely heartbreaking you could practically feel a piece of you wither and die. You regretted it. All of it. How could you ever feel the same way again?

JJ’s blue eyes were the only ones with oceans deep enough to captivate you for hours on end. Every time his fingers found your skin, it felt like tiny fires erupted in every place he touched. When his lips pressed on yours, the whole world stopped spinning and god, you could have stayed that way forever. And his heart. Oh, his ever fragile heart. It was the most beautiful thing you had ever gotten to know on this planet. And now it wasn’t yours anymore. Fuck. You had screwed up big time.

You thought about what the blonde boy had said before he left. You were scared. Scratch that, you were fucking terrified. Terrified to admit how your heart had grown to beat in rhythm with another’s. You and JJ were both broken pieces that fit together magnificently; that’s how the universe had willed it to be. In that moment, you knew exactly how you felt.

You leaped off the cold hammock and ran. Where would JJ be? His house? No, he wouldn’t have gone to face his father. The Chateau? No, he would want to be alone. The beach. He had to be at the beach. You sprinted until your feet were on fire and even when your muscles burst into flames, you kept going. Your feet whistled through the sand until you saw him. His back was to you, and he was watching the reckless waves with a beer can in his hands. You were sprinting but you couldn’t get there fast enough. “JJ!” Your breathless voice carried in the wind and JJ’s head jerked around. “Y/N?” His eyes were red. Had he been crying?

He stood up and your feet flew past the last couple yards before you slammed into him. A small grunt left his lips but he didn’t complain. Instead, his arms wrapped around your shaking form tighter than they had ever held you before. Your arms wound around his torso and you pulled away slightly to see his face. His eyes were bloodshot and his nose was red but he looked like the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. One of your hands flew to cup his jaw and the other wound itself in his unkempt golden locks. You looked right into his cerulean eyes before whispering, “I love you.”

JJ’s eyes widened in shock. “What?”

“JJ Maybank, you are capable of love. You know how I know that?” You laughed as he shook his head. “Because I fucking love you. And-” But JJ’s lips crashed against yours and the words immediately died on your tongue. You moved against his body, holding him as close as humanly possible as a million butterflies exploded in your stomach. JJ tasted like saltwater and strawberries from the tears that covered both your faces and the flavor of your chapstick.

The golden boy pulled away, lips swollen but curved into a breathtaking grin. His arms were still wrapped snugly around you and you leaned closer, kissing away the tears that lingered on his cheeks. “Let’s tell everyone, J. I’m not afraid of what they might say anymore. When it comes to us, you’re the only thing that matters.” JJ softly breathed in; he wasn’t used to someone loving him this way. He gently grabbed your chin and pulled your face up so his eyes were on yours once again. “This is all I ever wanted. I’m holding the entire world in my arms.”

You smiled and JJ swore your face was brighter than every star in the sky. “Well, I’m holding the entire universe. And I’m never letting it go.”

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