#the posts in the weekends and friday will be out two hours before the other days

[thelien-art]

December; the 2nd

Haleth

It´s my sister's birthday tomorrow and I think she would love Haleth sooo, you know as an extra bit early present - also I think Haleth is an underrated character and I love her, all the things she accomplishes just speak of a great person!

[fridayyy-13th]

^ live footage of me rn

[shurisasthmaticgf]

wait a damn minute: max verstappen x black fem! reader

summary: in the midst of the biggest worldwide IT outage you realize your name has come up at the worst time possible

author's note: i wrote this on friday when the entire thing happened, i thought i posted it but turns out it was camped out in my drafts still. this is my first max fic so i hope it's an enjoyable read! feedback and comments are always appreciated and highly encouraged, i like to know what you all think of my work!

warnings: google translated dutch

the hungarian grand prix was only days away and you couldn't wait to surprise your boyfriend with a visit. it killed you to miss his races but you'd recently been promoted to a new position in your company which required more days in office than remote. you'd managed to balance work and personal life pretty well but when you weren't missing due to your new job, you had something else happen last minute. finally, after weeks of working long hours on end in an office, you were in the clear to start remote working more frequently.

you managed to clock out of work right on time so the minute the clock hit 6:00 pm, you were logging out and grabbing your already packed bag. one of your coworkers passed by you in the elevator, he was the only one around your age in the entire department so immediately you both clicked. he lightly bumped you with his shoulder and commented, "three side profiles and a headshot or selfie." you furrowed your brows in confusion and he clarified, "photo requests for my husband of course." the two of you burst into laughter as you teased, "was the autographed photocard not enough for you, théo? i even decorated it and put it in a holder for your desk." the young man smiled fondly thinking of the small 3x4 inch card that sat on the corner of his main monitor. he brushed one of his locs from his face and dramatically sighed, "fine i won't be pushy...i only want the selfie." you shook your head and refused with a chuckle, "i'm not asking toto wolff for a selfie, théo." your coworker let out a fake sigh of disappointment and lightly pushed you in the other direction as you parted ways to your cars. you laughed and called out, "i'll see what i can do, no promises though!" his face lit up and he blew your air kisses before calling out a goodnight.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

just thinking about seeing your boyfriend racing again brought butterflies to your stomach. although he was doing well this season a few problems had cost him a few wins here and there. fans had jokingly mentioned that you not being at races was the cause of the missed first place wins because coincidentally, every race you've ever attended, max has won exactly that. for weeks fans have asked about your whereabouts and you'd practically ghosted them simply because you were working so much. you were known as one of the more down to earth f1 WAGs who had no problem interacting with fans in person and over social media. so you suddenly not showing up for max and not interacting with people online made them wonder what was going on with you during the past few weeks. now that work had chilled out, you were happy to be back online again, and even happier to be able to make it out to hungary this weekend.

the moment you stepped into your apartment you made a beeline for your bedroom to change out of your professional clothes. you snatched a pair of scissors, a spray bottle, conditioner, a towel, a comb, and a crumpled up paper bag and cozied up on the couch with shrek queued on the tv. you sprayed your head with the warm water in the bottle and spread a glob of conditioner all over the roots of your hair. you pulled one of your braids forward and snipped the end before unraveling it and picking out whatever knots formed in the 6 weeks your hair had been tucked away. thankfully this time it didn’t take too long to get your braids out, only 3 hours compared to the usual 5 when you didn’t have your boyfriend’s help.

right as the last strands of synthetic hair slipped out of your own curls, your phone rang the familiar tune and a picture of your boyfriend flashed on your screen. a warm smile spread across your face as his camera turned on to show face. you braided you hair on each side to get it out of your face as you spoke, “hi my love how was your day?” he rolled over to his side and grumbled sleepily, “long, usual press day so you know how that goes.” you frowned slightly, “i wish i was there with you today.” max hummed and admitted, “i do as well. but your work is more important so i can deal with this.” you watched as his eyes lingered on your face and you giggled while moving out of the frame shyly, “stop looking at me like that.” although it was dimly lit in hotel room you could see the light pink tint to his cheeks as he smiled, “i can’t admire my lovely girlfriend?” he yawned mid sentence and you insisted, “as much as i love talking to you i know you’re tired and you need to go to sleep. so i’ll talk to you tomorrow, yeah?” he sleepily agreed and murmured, “welterusten mijn liefste.” you blew him a kiss and whispered softly, "goodnight baby." [goodnight, my love]

instead of heading straight to sleep you chose to wash your hair rather than waiting until the morning to do so. the flight you managed to snag last minute to hungary was set for tomorrow evening and you hadn't packed anything. not wanting to get onto a plane with a damp head of coils, you decided to just deal with it tonight. the entire process didn't take as long since you were speeding through just so you could sleep. by the time you were done it was around 2 AM and you were more than happy with the results. a dozen thick twists hung past your shoulders until you wrapped them up into a scarf and covered them with your bonnet to head to bed.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

when you woke up in the morning you noticed your phone had over 50 missed calls, messages, and emails. your mind conjured up the worst possible thoughts as you called your boyfriend to see what was the matter. max answered on the first few rings and you anxiously stammered, "baby? maxie? what's going on are you okay? where are you?" on the other line max answered clearly confused on what you were talking about, "schat? i am fine, i'm heading to the track. nothing is wrong here, what are you talking about?" you started to calm down realizing that he was fine but you responded, "i thought- didn't you blow up my phone early this morning? i was worried something happened and-" your boyfriend interjected with a calm tone, "y/n, i promise you nothing is the matter-"

an incoming call from théo, your coworker cut max off and you spoke up, "i'm sorry i think it's work related because théo is calling me." max let out an annoyed sound and you laughed, "i don't get why you don't like him." max scoffed, "he is too touchy and handsy with you." there was a playful groan, "oh god here you go- max, we've been over this. théo is a 27 year old gay man from san francisco who's convinced he's princess diana's reincarnate. he's the least of your worries okay?" max conceded, "okay fine i guess...but i still have my eye on him." another call from théo interrupted your conversation and you added, "but he's blowing up my phone so i need to see what's wrong. i'll talk to you later okay?" max agreed and bid you goodbye before hanging up the phone.

meanwhile you answered théo's call and he was literally running through what looked like the parking garage of his high rise. he panted, "you- you nee-...oh god i'm out of shape- you need to get up right now.. i'll be there to pick you up in fifteen minutes so be ready downstairs." you looked around confused and your coworker/ friend explained, "there's some massive outage or something happening. i know we had off today but they're calling the entire office in to see if we can figure it out." you were already climbing out of bed and you pressed for more information, "what do you mean an outage?" théo shrugged and wiped sweat from his brow as he tried to make himself look less winded, "i dunno i was thinking a breach or something? whatever it is we'll find out but we gotta go right now babes." you hurriedly grabbed an outfit from your closet and started to get dressed and ready to go, keeping him on the line.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

when you finally managed to get to his car, théo pointed to your phone and told you, "check twitter too, the fans are making jokes that you did something to the platform." despite having no idea what the hell he was talking about you opened twitter to see the flood of tweets under your name on the trending topics list. a pit formed in your stomach and you nearly fainted when you realized what he was talking about. you were completely new to this job and panic coursed through your veins on the thought of losing everything you worked hard for. the look of panic drew a laugh from your best friend and coworker as he jested, "they're funny aren't they?!" you shook your head and nearly shouted, "no it's not i'm gonna get fired!" théo waved off your concern, "girl the issue is definitely not from you and nobody thinks so. besides, dante from marketing and eleni from HR were sending the funny ones to our group chat...not that this isn't serious but just to make light of a shitty situation you know?" you shifted in your seat unsure how to feel and he promised, "i guarantee it's fine."

when you actually got to work with théo you were pulled into a meeting where you all were briefed about the situation. they clarified that they knew it was an issue with an update that was sent out early in the morning. after the meeting your boss told you that he knew you weren't supposed to be working today but you did need to stay and potentially over the weekend as well to help your team mitigate the issue as much as you all could. despite it being a global issue and not directly an issue from the monaco office, you knew that he meant he needed you there to help deploy the solution when it came through. he let you have a fifteen minute break to rearrange your travel plans and make the cancellations you needed before having you start work.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

the work day ended later than usual, the later hours were spent at your home office while you were on meetings with other people on your team. luckily you were able to catch up with the results of max's first and second practice sessions through peeking at live updates while you worked. when you got the okay to clock out, you nearly fell asleep on your desk but waking back up when your boyfriend's ringtone jump scared you.

you kept your head on the desk as you opened the video call, "hey you." max's features softened when he noticed the look of exhaustion on your face, "it was that bad huh?" you gave a silent thumbs up and sighed, "i wish it didn't happen...i was so excited to come surprise you and finally be there to see you again. i'm sorry i can't make it work." max rushed to your defense, "er zijn nog genoeg andere races over in het seizoen, je kunt in plaats daarvan naar die races komen kijken." you let out an annoyed groan, "i know but i wanted to be there this time. now you'll have bad luck." max chuckled at the mention of the running joke of you being his lucky charm, "it's alright. don't worry your pretty little head about me. now come on let's go to sleep, i know you're tired." you shuffled your feet against your bedroom floor as you took your phone with you to get ready for the night. [there are plenty of other races left in the season, you can come and watch those races instead.]

as you lay in bed with your lights off max asked, "did you see they asked me about you today?" you hummed a soft, "nuh uh." he smiled at the memory and explained, "i was in an interview and they mentioned that your name was trending on twitter and asked if i saw it. i only saw that your name was trending but i didn't see what for so they told me fans made jokes that you crashed the mercedes, mclaren, and williams servers so that i could win this weekend." a sleepy smile crossed your lips and you asked, "what'd you say?" he turned over in his bed and answered, "i told them it wasn't you because you don't make mistakes in your work. you're too good at what you do. also that you aren't the one that sends out the updates so people don't need to use your name in a bad light." you grinned wider already knowing what he was going to say, "and how did that go over?" max let out an sigh and small chuckle, "the guys have been making fun of me all night for it." you let out the loudest laugh max has heard from you in weeks making him somewhat more fine with getting teased by his friends.

your laughter subsided and you told him, "tell me about something interesting." max thought for a moment then started rambling on about the geologic history of the netherlands, watching as your eyes started to droop with the passing minutes. falling asleep with your boyfriend still on the phone became a habit especially in the early days of you dating. but now you were spending more time with him that occurrences like this just started happening once more, leaving you missing his presence at night. as for now, this was the best you could get.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

the end.

[adventuringblind]

The Wolf, The Bunny, and the Muppet

Carlando X Reader

Genre: Smut

Summary: Carlos makes plans, Lando doesn't follow them, and punishment ensues. She's just trying to look cute, is that really so hard?

Warnings: Mildly dark Carlos, Denial, Overstimulation, Bondage, Degradation, Praise, PinV, Marking, Heavy subspace, Lando being a pain, BDSM, unprotected sex (not condoned), crying, anal with mild prep,

Notes: So... this is a thing. I fell in love with this towards the end. Dark Carlos is my new favorite thing. Hope the requester appreciates my effort because this was A LOT. Jk, kinda, but I do hope you like it!!

Side note: feeding my praise kink fuels my motivation to write. I am lacking that currently.

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

It's not often Carlos makes a pre-planned effort to put a scene together. He's calculated, sure, but he can also go with whatever the situation calls for.

This weekend is different. He has something he wants to try and has made his partners aware of the plan. It's not often he gets to delve into non-sexual domination. The kind that builds up into something more.

He'd been very clear about the rules after getting them off on Thursday. Hopefully enough to satisfy them (Lando) until Sunday night where he would tear them apart and put them back together.

Lando has always been the trickier of the two. She does whatever Carlos says. Lando can but chooses not to.

Needless to say, that if Lando breaks any of the rule's things will become significantly more difficult for everyone involved. Mostly for himself, but Carlos also doesn't really want to put that much effort into doing something different.

Friday is easy. Lando isn't pent up, both are dressed in outfits he'd picked out, and haven't complained about it. Not that he's expecting it. He's not going to put them in something they aren't comfortable with.

Friday practice goes well. Enough for Carlos to have the energy to tease the pair. He leaves them wanting more, for obvious reasons. There is something so satisfying about having to people who love and trust you, begging for anything you give them. Carlos loves this feeling; addicted to it like a drug.

The climate they are racing in is warm enough that Carlos can comfortably have the female wear a dress that barely brushes the tops of her thighs. It's skimpy, and he loves it. He loves the attention she's getting and how people are gawking at her. There is a primal satisfaction deep down because he knows full well she's his.

On the other hand, he had to wrestle Lando's hoodie away from him. The risk of overheating left Carlos is a predicament. The result being a grumpy Brit who wants to die of a heat stroke but complied regardless.

He manages through qualifying fine. Knowing he's going to find his girl in the garage waiting for him. Carlos gets through media with a PR approved smile. Still eyeing Lando and the fact that he is back in his sweatshirt.

Carlos edges him for hours when they get back to the hotel. His precious girl sits right at his feet, waiting patiently for direction. Eyes glazed over at simply being made to watch and wait.

Lando is sweating horrifically. Carlos left him in the sweatshirt, making him regret his earlier misdemeanors. The Brit is slobbering on the sheets, begging for some reprieve. Carlos helps him take a cold shower when he thinks Lando has learned his lesson.

He makes the podium on Sunday. He's elated, walking on cloud nine. Satisfied with his adrenaline-fueled kisses to his lovers in a back corner before he heads to do media.

It's back in the garage when Charles starts laughing at an Instagram post. It draws Carlos' attention. He looks over to see what's on the screen, only to clench his jaw in utter disbelief.

Lando, is openly flirting with Oscar. His smug look says he knows exactly what he's doing. Of everyone, it had to be Oscar. It could've been Max for all he cared. Oscar just grates on his nerves with the way he looks at Lando.

He ends up having to stay later than expected. Lando had said he was heading back to the hotel to order dinner for them since he was done. Maybe try to make amends for his earlier stunt.

Carlos takes his girl with him. He watches her shudder as he praises her for being all weekend. Not like he expected anything different. Carlos broke her a long time ago. He's still breaking Lando.

He keys the room open, expecting to see food on the table and Lando sitting patiently. What he hears instead is Lando moaning. The sheets shifted around underneath his writhing body.

Carlos just stands and watches for a minute. Lando is clearly aware he's is but making no attempt to stop. The sounds he's letting out are exaggerated and whiny. Terribly desperate for something Carlos won't give him.

"Mmm - Oscah..."

And Carlos snaps. Any semblance of self-restraint disappears. The stoic facade he was trying to keep dissolves into a fiery anger. Red hot and boiling in his stomach.

Carlos storms over to Lando and flips him without any difficulty. He pins him with one hand and undoes his belt with the other. "What a fucking brat. You can't be a slut for one second can you?"

Lando is whining underneath him. It's a pathetic noise, and Carlos soaks up every bit of it. "Desperate little thing." He wraps Lando's wrists in his bet and tightens it. The Brit lay bare and vulnerable at the mercy of Carlos' decisions.

Carlos spares a glance at the female. She has stripped her own clothes and is kneeling by the bed. He wants to drown in the sight and ravish her until neither of them can breathe. "Must you ruin my plans, Landito?"

"Just wanted to feel you."

"Yeah, you're going to feel me for weeks after I'm done with you."

Carlos motions for the girls to come to him on the bed. She crawls to him, big eyes clouded with want. "You're so perfect, amour. I'm going to reward you for being so good this weekend. Lando will watch and take notes."

Lando whines as Carlos rolls him onto his back. Rough and calloused fingers grip at Lando's hips. They tease the sensitive areas where Lando needs him most. Cock achingly hard and dripping.

"Stay put and I might let you cum tonight."

Carlos moves closer to the angelic female, looking at him like he is the only thing in the world. He strips off his own clothes and pulls her body closer to his. The skin on skin alone has her eyes rolling back.

He pushes her head lower. Her mouth opens to receive his cock with no hesitation. She wraps her lips around him with such skill that Carlos can only get lost in it. Hand buried in her hair if only to worship her. There is no need to guide or hold as he bucks his hips up and hits the back of her throat.

It's impossible for him not to take advantage of her mouth. It is harder to stay away from the edge of ecstasy. But he manages, he pulls her off him and slams his lips onto hers.

His fingers slips into her cunt with ease. Wet from the weekend of waiting. The anticipation of feeling him finally comes to fruition.

"Sir, please - I need you." The brg falls from her lips like it's her first language. All she knows is him; drowning in the way his fingers rub against her g-spot. "Need to be filled by you."

Carlos can't deny the girl anything. He burries himself in her. Eye's burning holes into Lando's as he snaps his hips at a relentless pace. "How does it feel knowing this could've been you?"

Lando whines and pouts, hips bucking towards the spainard to find the friction he needs. Carlos grants him nothing but a handprint on his ass. Tears spring into his eyes at the sting. It grants Carlos a sick kind of satisfaction.

His girl pants his name. Her tongue sticks out of her mouth in search of him. The only satisfaction she gains is from being good for Carlos.

He feels her tighten around him, alerting him that she's on the edge. "Wait for me, I'm almost there." He whispers against her skin. She scratches at his back as he picks up the pace. Her own way of claiming him, it sends Carlos' head spinning.

She's begging for it but waiting so patiently. The control he has over her is intoxicating. He could keep her like this forever, but she's been good and deserves a reward.

"Cum for me, you've been so good princessa." She tightens around him, walls refusing to let up. Her body jolts in the pleasurable waves of dopamine and serotonin.

Carlos finishes with a few sloppy thrusts, painting the inside of her white. The only thing left is their heavy breathes as they bask in the high.

Carlos praises her as he pulls out. She whines at the loss of him, so he places a hand on her hip to ensure she knows he's present while in a vulnerable headspace. It's endearing how she needs him.

"See that Lando? Do you think you can be good? Can you listen to my words like the good boy I know you are?"

Lando is sobbing. Putty in the hands of Carlos. Broken and beautiful. Just the way he should be.

Carlos takes pity on him. Places Lando in-between the girls' legs. He waits, unmoving inside of his perfect girl.

He drips lube all over his fingers and takes care in opening up the Brit, but leaves him right enough to ensure a bit if a sting still.

Lando is keening. He's trying so hard not to move; to be good for Carlos.

Carlos takes his time sinking into the Brit. Each movement sends him further into the warmth of his Carlos' perfect girl. Lando is sobbing now, begging for anything Carlos is willing to give.

Carlos finally gives in. He show the two of them to mercy. Teeth clamping onto Lando's neck to mark him and fingers pinching the girls nipples causing her to shreik.

Perfect for him.

His.

All his.

Carlos fucks them into overstimulation. He's relentless and refuses to let the moment go to waste. Not when they are sobbing in pure ecstacy.

They chant his name, and he feeds off it. He could live in this place. Only hearing them worship him for the rest of his life.

Finally, he slows. He pulls out gently and whispers words of encouragement and praise. He kisses up and down their bodies and worships them because they are completely his.

He cleans them up with gentle hands, let's them know how much he loves and adores them.

Carlos cuddles them to sleep. The feeling of their hearts beating on either side of him only sends him further into the chasm of adoration for the two.

Hearts that are beating with his in tadem.

Hearts that beat for him.

[octuscle]

My professor is such a pain in the ass! I tried turning him into an average dumb college frat guy, but it’s not working!

Whew! Indeed, your professor is a tough nut to crack. He's as stiff as if he'd swallowed a stick. On time like a Swiss watch. And the strictest teacher imaginable. I'll see what I can do. Time is pressing, it's Friday and the exam period starts on Monday.

07:30. Your professor's shiny Volvo rolls into the faculty parking lot. He's always on time to the second. His suit may be cheap, but it's immaculate. And he walks into the staff room with his hair perfectly parted. No one notices the small tattoo on his forearm.

When he arrives at your lecture, it's like a sensation: he's not wearing polished Oxfords, he's wearing sneakers. Pretty cool, pretty expensive sneakers. And WHITE socks! He's never been seen wearing anything like that before. And you swear his stomach is flatter. Normally his jacket always conceals a tummy bulge. But now his silhouette is perfectly slim. Unfortunately, it doesn't change anything about his lecture. He's way too fast, firing his questions like a sniper in the direction of the students who weren't paying attention. He's a pain in the ass, and that hasn't changed yet.

During the lunch break, the professor is seen wearing jeans for the first time. Pretty crisp fitting jeans. He really has a tight ass. And damn: Does he actually have a beard shadow? Normally he's always perfectly shaved. You're sitting in the canteen with your bruhs when he approaches you and asks "All gud, bruhs? can one of you give me uh fag? I must have forgotten mine at home…" You are far too surprised not to give him a cigarette. "You're such uh lifesaver, dude," says your professor and asks what you're up to this weekend. You tell him about your plans to go to the sports bar, work out in the gym and maybe take a trip to the beach on Sunday. "Sick thing" replies the professor. "See you around, bruhs!" He leaves you with your mouths hanging open.

The professor leaves the parking lot in his open-top Mustang with loud hip-hop music and screeching tires. You grin broadly. Your plan seems to be working. You are sure of it when you meet the next day at the gym. Your professor has a cool haircut, a stylish beard and looks like he's a regular at the tattoo parlor. You greet each other with a fist bump. And when he takes off his sweaty T-shirt after two hours, you say goodbye with a chest bump. Damn, this guy has a killer body.

On the beach, your prof disappears from time to time with random people and goes to the trunk of his Mustang. Shit, he's selling drugs. Hashish or apparently steroids and other stuff. And at sunset you see him lying on his towel smoking pot while one of the musclemen from the gym massages his nipples. Fuck, the boner in his surfer shorts is impressive. You're very pleased with yourself. You don't need to be afraid of tomorrow. It's a good thing you didn't waste the weekend studying.

Hot picture, you think to yourself on Monday morning when you see your professor's latest post on Instagram. And then you read the caption: "Sicc training 2 start the new wk. Now let's go kicc sum student ass. I luv it when i c the airheads sweating over my exam questions"

Pic found @marechais

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Movie Madness

Pairing: Dean Winchester x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When Dean drops in unexpectedly, you decide on an activity to get both of your pulses racing. Reader is a med-student in college and works in a library. This is the fourth fic in my Before You Go Universe, but can be read as stand alone (probably?).

Tropes: Fluff, Established Relationships, Age Difference (Reader is early to mid-20's and Dean is probably early to mid-30's)

Word Count: 5.1K

Warnings: Some swearing (once or twice), Mentions of sex (not explicit at all), Implied sex, Sexual Innuendo, SPOILERS FOR THE MOVIE ALIEN,  Dean might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

A/N: This has been sitting in my WIPs folder forever and I really just wanted to write a fluff where Dean had never seen Alien and the reader remedies that. 😊

"Okay, next question: What is the first step in glycolysis, what does it create, and what does it use?" Tim asks, lounging back against one of the dusty bookshelves.

 It was a Friday night, which normally meant you were gone to see Dean at the bunker, but this weekend he was off in Maine, dealing with a pack of werewolves and you had picked up a shift at the library.

Usually you would be disappointed that you couldn't see him, but due to the giant test looming over your head on Monday, you were happy to relax and study with your lab partner, Tim.

Tim stretched out his legs as far as they could go between the two bookshelves, while you read through the call numbers on the weathered spines of the faded books waiting to be replaced back on the dusty shelves in front of you. Tim, true to his word, had come to help you study. He had been happy to hear that you weren't going to see Dean, because he was also having a hard time with the material and he always said that quizzing someone else made him remember the information more anyway so he'd shown up three hours ago and hadn't left.

"Ohh I know this." You groan, resting your head against the bookshelf and bracing your arms on the metal ledge.

"I'm sure you do. Since you were asleep during the lecture on glycolysis."

"Hey. What happened to no judgement between us?" You turn your head to glare at your lab partner. "I didn't judge you when you dated  that finance major who didn't know that the Earl of Sandwich was a person."

"An honest mistake-"

"Or when you couldn't find your glasses for two hours when you were wearing them-"

"It's very easy to do that when you have glasses. And you didn’t tell me that I was wearing them! You have no idea-"

"Or when you-"

"Okay! I give. Make it stop." He groans, kicking out at the back of your calf with his foot, but you dodge him. "Just answer the question."

"Fine."

You stand there for a minute trying to mentally compartmentalize your notes, flipping through them page by page, shuffling through the color-coded diagrams you drew for the glycolysis cycle two days ago, because yes you had fallen asleep during the lecture but you had forced yourself to go through the posted PowerPoints. "Okay. In the first step it's glucose being turned into D-glucose-6-Phosphate and it uses the-um-." You groan. "Oh it uses hexokinase."

"Finally, and yes that's right. What's the next step, what does it use, and what does it create?" Tim asks.

You turn back to the cart of dusty volumes, picking a faded red encyclopedia etched with gold script and note the call number.

You walk around the bookshelf to the other side where the call number should be, brushing your fingertips along the worn spines that line the walls and breathe in the scent of old books. It was enough to calm you down. Something about being surrounded by them always made you feel at home. Your mother was always reading worn paperbacks in her chair by the window with a cup of tea steaming in the early morning light back home, in the library that your father had made her in one of the spare bedrooms at your house. Whenever you found the time to read, it made you think of her, of course finding time to read was difficult.

You hadn't been back to see your parents since last Christmas, called them yes, and you knew deep down at some point you'd have to introduce Dean to them, but you kept putting that off, mostly because you didn't want to tell them what he did. Whenever your mom asked on the phone, you changed the subject, because it hurt you to lie to them. You were so close with both of them that it made everything complicated to keep Dean from them.

"Hello?" Tim says from the other side of the bookshelf. "Did you get lost or something?"

"Huh? Oh no I'm just thinking." You reach up on tip-toe to place the volume on the top shelf where it belongs. "Okay, I’m pretty sure the second step is D-glucose-6-Phosphate to Fructo-"

Someone grabs you from behind, wrapping their strong arms around your waist to pull you back into their chest, while planting their lips directly on the slope of your neck.

You open your mouth to scream, but then you hear Dean's rough voice in your ear.

"Did you miss me sweetheart?" He kisses you again, trailing his lips down your neck into the shadow of your jaw.

"Dean what the hell? You scared the crap out of me." You hiss turning around to hit him with the large volume still clutched in your hands. But despite your anger, you were happy to see him.

There was a little more wear around his eyes and the dark circles that rimmed them were prominent against his skin, the shadow of his beard was more apparent, but his eyes still shone bright green with his smile when he looked at you, making you feel like you were going to melt.

It wasn't a new feeling, and you hoped that it never went away.

"Sorry sweetheart." Dean laughs, dodging another swing of the encyclopedia. "You looked so cute putting the books away I had to."

"You're the worst."

He grabs the front of your sweatshirt and pulls you into him so that his lips are inches from yours, but does not kiss you. "Am I?" Dean breathes, close enough that you can feel the scratch of stubble against your skin and long for him to close the distance between the two of you.

"Yes." Your hands curl in the front of his black shirt beneath his leather jacket.

Dean kisses you earnestly, drawing the next breath from your lungs as you breathe him in, drunk on his smell and taste after only a few seconds. There really was nothing like kissing Dean, the subtle tilt of your head back, the gentle scrape of his beard against your cheeks, the soft sound he makes when he deepens the kiss, and the way he holds you close, almost as if he believes you will fade away in his arms.

"How about now?" He whispers, leaning his forehead against yours.

"You might be raising your rating." You smile, tightening your fingers in his hair. He'd been allowing it to grow a little longer and you loved it.

"Anything else I might be able to do to get it a bit higher, Sweetheart?" Dean smirks.

"Maybe-"

"Alright, I think that I've given you long enough to-" Tim begins to say rounding the corner of the bookshelves, but stops mid-sentence when he spots Dean. His eyes narrow a fraction.

"Hey there Tom!" Dean smiles as he pulls you closer to his chest, but raises his head up to give Tim a winning smile.

"It's Tim." Tim replies with a frown.

Tim had only seen Dean a handful of times and each time he did, you noticed how much he seemed to hate Dean. You couldn't think of a reason why. Dean hadn't done anything worth Tim's hatred. You had tried to act as a mediator in the past, tried to get Tim to get to know Dean before passing judgement, but nothing seemed to work.

In fact you had invited Tim to come with Dean and you to get a drink one night after class, but it had ended with you pretending that you forgot to return a phone call from your mother and you dragging a fuming Dean out of the bar while Tim glared at him.

That night had been awkward for everyone.

The entire time Tim had emphasized how important a college degree was and how important everything the two of you were doing at med school was, while glaring at Dean and almost implying that Dean was wasting your time. And when Dean told him he barely finished high school, Tim had laughed at him. Which made you angry, because you knew that Dean struggled with that, that he struggled thinking that you deserved better because he wasn’t educated the same way.

The next day you had received a phone call from Tim who apologized for what he'd said and stated that he was having a bad day and drank too much, but what he said to Dean still stung.

Dean didn't deserve to be treated like trash, didn't deserve to be put down because he didn't go to college, but you allowed yourself to forgive Tim. He was one of your only friends at school. However, you still didn't understand why he hated Dean so much.

An awkward silence passes between the three of you.

"Well I'm gonna go." Tim says looking from you to Dean. "I've got an early shift tomorrow. But let me know if you want to study again before the test."

"Okay, I'll text you later. Oh and I'll add you to the google doc for the notes I made." You smile at him, while leaning into Dean's embrace subconsciously. It had been two weeks since you'd seen him and you didn't realize how much you missed him until this moment.

"Sure." Tim turns to go back for his backpack on the other side.

"Bye Tom." Dean calls at his retreating back.

You sigh grabbing Dean's chin and bring his face back down to look at you. "You know his name."

"Do I?" Dean scrunches his face up as if trying to remember.

"Dean-"

"I'm just joking with him sweetheart. He's gotta learn to lighten up." Dean rolls his eyes, but then brushes his lips against yours, making your mind go completely blank. "I missed you."

"Is that why you're back early from your 'hunting trip'?" You smile against his lips.

"Maybe. That and it turned out not to be a pack of werewolves, but a very angry bear. Yogi didn't get the memo about eating hikers."

"Guess that makes you Ranger Smith. Please tell me that Sam or Cas had to dress up like Cindy Bear to appease Yogi and that you got pictures." You plead tugging at his hair hoping that Dean is about to make this the best day of your life.

"I love how much you know about Yogi Bear-"

"Oh that's nothing, you should hear me talk about Scooby Doo. My sister and I used to watch it all the time and let me be the first to say, Daphne deserved better."

It was an argument that your sister and you got into more than once, she was team Fred all the way, but you think that Daphne deserved better than a guy who was more focused on himself rather than anyone else. Not to mention he always let her get into trouble and he never seemed to care about her. Meanwhile your sister always said that he was trying to act aloof and sexy.

I miss her so much.

Dean freezes as soon as soon as you say it.

"Dean?" You look up at him worried. "Are you okay? Oh no, please don't tell me that you think that Daphne and Fred should-"

He picks you up and pins you to the bookshelf behind you, but before you can ask him again if he's okay, his lips are against yours.

He tastes like beer, coffee, and something sweet that you can't identify, both intoxicating and invigorating. The smell of his cologne and shampoo floods through your nose followed closely by the smell of leather and gun metal. Dean pulls your thighs up around him to secure you against his waist as he deepens the kiss, his tongue  brushing against yours in a wicked dance that drives all thoughts from your mind.  You moan, tangling your fingers in his hair to force his mouth harder against yours, not wanting him to stop.  It'd been so long since you'd seen him, since you'd had any time with him, since he'd touched you-

"Do you have any idea how much I love you?" Dean whispers against your lips. "Because every time I see you I don't think that I can love you more and then you say something like that."

"That Daphne deserved better?" You smile.

Dean kisses you as soon as you say it, holding you so tight against him it's almost painful, but you don't care, because it reminds you that he's here with you.

"Say it again." He mutters.

"Daphne deserved better."

"Fuck I love you."

"And I love that each time I see you I find out more about your weird kinks." You snort rubbing the back of his head gently in the way you know he likes.

"It's not a kink, it's the truth." Dean sighs while adjusting his grip under your thighs to make sure he doesn't drop you.

"Mhmm. Sure."

"So how much longer do you have to work?" He asks.

You glance at the watch on your wrist behind his head. "About an hour. Longer if you keep distracting me."

"I'm a wonderful distraction Sweetheart. Wouldn't mind distracting you for a little longer." Dean's mouth drifts to your jaw.

"Dean." You sigh. "I love you baby, but can I please finish putting these away?"

"In a minute." He continues to kiss down the column of your throat, sucking a mark just below your jaw. "I missed you."

"I missed you too." You sigh, knotting your hands in his hair and securing him against your neck.

"Have I ever told you that you're the sexiest librarian I've ever seen?" Dean murmurs.

"Given how many you've watched on your laptop I'll take that as a compliment." You snort. "But they're probably wearing less clothes than I am-"

"I can fix that sweetheart."

You roll your eyes at your boyfriend, but you’re not opposed to what he’s suggesting. "How long can you stay?"

"Few days."

"Hmm."

"What do you think we should do with all that time?" Dean looks up with a mischievous glint in his eye that makes a shudder go down your spine.

"I have a few ideas."

"Oh really?"

"Mhm."

"What did you have in mind?"

"Something that will get our pulses racing." You kiss Dean, but before he can deepen it you pull back. "And maybe a few things that'll make me scream." You whisper, your breath upon his lips. "Would you like that Dean?"

"I think I would."

"Good."

"You know when you asked me if I wanted to hear you scream and wanted to get our pulses racing, this wasn't what I had in mind." Dean frowns, shrugging off his leather jacket and placing the extra large cheese pizza down on the end of your bed.

"Really? Huh. Can't imagine what else you were thinking about." You reply with an shrug, shuffling through your collection of DVD's to look for your favorite one.

"You act so innocent Sweetheart, but we both know how much trouble you seem to get us into all the time."

"I don't know what you're talking about." You finally see the familiar cover of your Alien Movie collection. "I can't believe you've never seen Alien before. It truly is one of the best movies in history." You set up the DVD player and grab the remote while Dean changes into his boxers.

You were looking forward to a relaxing night of watching movies and eating copious amounts of snacks and pizza to drown out the worry for the test on Monday. You figured that you had studied enough today with Tim at the library and now you were taking a well deserved break with Dean and your favorite comfort movie, Alien.

As soon as you found out Dean had never seen it, you'd wanted to make him watch it, but there never seemed to be time and tonight was perfect. You had grabbed a pizza on the way back, as well as every type of candy you could think of, beer (Dean's contribution), and popcorn.

"I was never really into Sci-Fi. That's more Sam." Dean sighs, nestling down on your small full sized bed, avoiding the pizza box.

"We both know that's a lie. You like Godzilla vs. Mothra!" You shout, changing out of your jeans and t-shirt, before grabbing the flannel that Dean took off a few seconds ago. It was still warm, but soft against your skin. “Not to mention I’ve heard you make at least seven Star Trek jokes.”

"Godzilla vs. Mothra is not really Sci-fi, that's giant monster destroying a city and it's awesome." Dean replies not taking his eyes off of you as you button up the flannel and ignoring your comment about Star Trek.

"Yes it is awesome and it most definitely is Sci-fi. And Alien is Sci-Fi for people who like Sci-fi and awesome monster movie for people who pretend to hate Sci-Fi like you. It has something for everyone, even cat lovers!" You get on the bed, sitting cross-legged next to him as you reach for the pizza and the bag that holds all your other snacks.

"Cat lovers?"

"There's a cat in this movie, Jonesy. He's adorable." You grab a slice of pizza and try not to moan out loud at the taste. "I love you." You whisper as you take another bite of the cheesy goodness.

"I love you too Sweetheart." Dean says with a heart-warming smile, not understanding that you are in fact talking to the pizza and not to him.

"Um. Well I love you too Dean-" You laugh awkwardly.

He frowns at you. "You were talking to the pizza weren't you?"

"No…"

Dean snorts and grabs a slice for himself. "Go on and start the movie. I doubt that I'll be able to stay awake for it."

"You're gonna love it!" You say leaning into his shoulder as you continue to eat.

"Uh-huh sure. How about we make this interesting?”

“How?” You lean your head back to look up at him.

“Well if I guess who dies one by one correctly, you take off a piece of clothing and if I guess wrong then I take off a piece of clothing.” He purrs tracing the edges of where his flannel hits your thighs.

“Dean you’re only wearing boxers. And I’m only wearing your shirt and underwear."

“Even better. Only have one wrong answer for me, and two correct ones for you.” He smirks wider.

“Are you trying to distract me from my favorite movie with the promise of sex?”

Dean leans in towards your face. “That depends. Is it working?”

You look at him, eyes tracing his handsome features, thinking about how much you missed him. “Nope.” You reply raising your slice of pizza between the two of you and taking a large bite.

Dean rolls his eyes and grabs a beer, snapping the metal top off with his bare hand.

How does he do something so normal and make it be so sexy?

“I promise that you’re gonna love it. And if you don’t, I promise I’ll make it up to you.” You stoke your hand down his muscular chest.

Dean lets out a heavy sigh. “Fine.” He grumbles, before pulling you into his side as the opening music fills your bedroom.

You’d seen Alien maybe a million times. Monster movies were your sister and your favorite and the Alien movie series was the subject of many movie nights you spent with her before she got married. Binge watching all of them while eating probably cancer inducing junk food was a regular occurrence. Not to mention her bachelorette theme was badass female characters and she had proudly dressed up like Ripley. 

You were excited to share this with him, and as much as he protested watching it, you knew that Dean was going to love  it.

"I'm gonna go make popcorn." You say shuffling through the bag of snacks for the box of microwavable popcorn that you were sure was at the bottom.

"What?" Dean perks up.

"I'm going to go make popcorn." You pull yourself from his arms, stretching your arms up to the ceiling before making your way to your bedroom door.

"I'll-um- I'll go with you." Dean clears his throat, rising from the bed to follow.

"What?" You turn to look at him.

You'd been watching for over an hour, long enough for the Xenomorph to be on the loose in the spaceship and long enough for him to see what a badass Ripley was. She was and you wouldn’t apologize for dumping Dean if you ever had a chance with her.

But Dean seemed to be enjoying the movie. He’d yelled for a solid five minutes at the crew who stood by and watched the xenomorph explode out of their friend’s chest and he’d grabbed you by the waist and shook you when the captain got killed in the air vents while screaming “it’s your fault he’s dead” to the characters on the screen.

He was hooked.

"I'm going to help you make the popcorn." He repeats, but he won't quite look at you, his eyes are shifting through your room, tracing over the dark shapes.

"Okay." You were confused as to why he was coming with you, but you shrug and walk out into your living room.

The apartment is quiet and dark. Your roommate, Suze, hadn't been home when you got there and you didn't know when she was coming back or if she would. She'd been spending an inordinate amount of time at her new boyfriend Matt's house, a boyfriend that you actually didn't hate running into and didn't make you feel uncomfortable.

After everything that happened with her ex Cooper, you had wondered if things between Suze and you would go back to normal. There had been a few awkward hello's and goodbye's, but since she started dating Matt about a month ago things seemed to settle down. So much so that she had actually invited you to come with them to get a drink one night and you were allowed to bring Dean, and it wasn't awkward, maybe at first, but not now. It had only taken two years for your roommate to actually like you.

I'll leave her a note to let her know that there's some extra beer in the fridge if she wants it.

You begin to open the box of popcorn to reach the plastic packets inside.

"Did you hear that?" Dean says, turning towards your front door and shielding your body from it like it's going to attack you.

"Hear what?" The plastic popcorn packet rustles as you tear it open before you place it into the microwave.

"That weird noise."

"Dean, I think you're hearing things."

"I am not!" He walks towards the door carefully.

"Yes you are." You stop for a second, watching his tense stature, and suddenly understand why he wanted to come with you into the kitchen. "Wait a minute, are you scared?"

"Huh?" Dean peeks over his shoulder eyes wide.

"You are! You're scared!" You snort. "I can’t believe this."

"I'm not scared." Dean lies, standing up straighter.

"Wow. Big bad Dean Winchester is scared of aliens."

"I am not!" He plants his hands on his hips, but its not enough to convince you.

"How are you scared of that? You see stuff worse than Xenomorphs everyday!" You laugh again, turning back to the microwave to pour the now made popcorn into a stainless steel bowl. 

"I don't see aliens. And I sure as hell don't see something like that!"

"Uh-huh. Sure." You shake your head at him, practically skipping back into your room. "And I thought this day couldn't get any better."

Dean collapses on the bed next to you in a huff. "How are you not afraid of that thing?"

"I’m honestly more disappointed that you haven’t proved their existence.”

“You want something like that to exist?”

“I mean it’s kinda cool-“

"Cool? You think that thing is cool?” Dean's mouth drops open in surprise.

“Yeah?” You shrug and pop a piece of the popcorn in your mouth.

“It’s got acid for blood!”

“So what you’re saying is, if one of those was on the loose you wouldn’t protect me?” You force your smile into an attractive pout, fluttering your eyelashes at Dean.

 He looks you right in the eye, without blinking and states, “Babe you’re on your own.”

 “Wow. It’s okay. I’ll protect you.”

“I don’t need you to protect me, I’m not scared.” Dean huffs as you fasten you arms around his chest and lay your head over his heart.

As the movie continues you keep sneaking glances at Dean, who has begun to subconsciously press you tighter and tighter against his chest with the arm he has wrapped around your back. He hasn't taken his eyes off the screen, the most he'd done is stress eat his way through all of your snacks.

But you loved it. You cuddled further into his chest, smiling against his skin as you did. You loved having these moments with him, hadn't had one with him in almost two weeks. The most the two of you had done was talk on the phone until you fell asleep, but you missed this. You missed your sexy, gentle, kind, passionate, caring, and gorgeous boyfriend.

“Come on. The CAT IS SMARTER THAN ALL OF THEM!” He shouts wincing as another crew member is killed by the creature.

“Yes it is.”  You snort.

"We should get a cat."

"What? Are you even a cat person?" You sit up and look at Dean, who is still watching the movie with wide eyes.

"I could be! It could tell that fucking thing was there! It was warning them and they didn’t listen and now they’re dead! See if we had a cat I’d listen to him." He argues.

"What are you the cat whisperer?"

"If it started acting weird then we’d know one of those things was around!" Dean shouts squeezing you tighter against his bare chest, his eyes still glued to the t.v.

Is it wrong that I like seeing him like this?

You'd never seen him afraid before, but it was giving you a sickening amount of joy for him to be clutching on to you so tightly. That was probably because you missed him so much and it was nice to be in his arms again, even if he was cutting off circulation to the top half of your body.

"Cats always act weird. They're cats. It’s kinda the whole deal."

"Do you like cats?"

"I could. I like dogs. I always wanted a pet when I was younger, but my sister is allergic." You frown at the tv.

When you were a kid you hadn't seen a problem and brought home a random dog while telling your sister loudly to "hold her breath."

Your parents hadn't thought it was as funny as you had.

"How is she doing?" Dean asks turning to look at you as the end credits roll.

He hadn't met any of your family yet and you were planning on asking Dean to come home with you for thanksgiving in a few weeks, but you weren't sure it was a good idea. You loved him and he loved you, but you were afraid that he would freak out about meeting your family. You knew that he wasn't used to something like that, meeting a significant other's family,  and you didn't want to push him to do something uncomfortable.

Then again, the premise of free food will probably entice him. Not to mention my mom is the best cook in the world.

"Good. The baby is due in November and she's hoping that it'll be out by Thanksgiving because she doesn’t want to miss the one holiday that doesn't fat shame you for taking another plate. I just called her the other day, she can’t wait for it to be over."

You also hadn't seen your sister in a little bit, but it was difficult to balance that, especially because she lived so far away and you were trying to balance work, school, and Dean. But you did get a phone call out to her at least once every week. Lately it had been more because she liked to call to complain about being pregnant and because her husband was away on business, she wasn't able to do it to him.

"How’s her husband?"

"He’s good. Just got promoted. I still have no idea what he does. She says she doesn’t either. Every time I asks my brain turns off. Then again she said she’d be okay if he was out there shaking it for dollar bills, as long as he brings money home."

"I think I love your sister."

"She is pretty great. And honestly, it seems like a nice way to pick up some extra cash-"

"No." Dean smiles slips into a frown.

"No what?" You ask him confused.

"You’re not allowed to become a stripper."

"I didn’t say I wanted to. Just that it might be a viable option to getting some cash on the side."

"No.” Dean’s eyes flick from where Ripley is fighting the alien in the escape pod to focus on you.

“You know it’s a free country and if I wanted to be a stripper I could."

"Nope."

"What?"

"Sorry doll. The only one that gets to see this sexy  body is me."

“I think you’re being selfish.”

“Yes unashamedly. I want you all to myself.” Deans smile shifts into a smirk, eyes glinting mischievously. “Though if you wanted to give me a show I wouldn’t be against it.”

“Hmm. I’ll think about it.”

"So what did you think about the movie?"

"I liked it, though I think it's kind of a red flag that this is your comfort movie."

"Says the guy who's entire trunk of his car is a red flag."

"I'm serious. How is this your comfort movie?" Dean gestures at the end credits that continue to scroll to the iconic soundtrack.

"I don't know. I like it. It makes me feel better about my problems watching them all scramble around."

"You're so weird." Dean sighs shaking his head.

"I know. It's great isn't it?" You flash a wide grin and elbow him in the side.

"Keeps me on my toes."

You find the box that contains the entire collection underneath the wrappers of all the snacks and wave it in front of you to taunt him. “So I’ve got the next three on DVD. Unless you’re too scared Winchester.”

“Bring it on!”

"Or," You smile up at him. "We could take a break because you were very brave. And maybe you deserve a reward." You press a kiss along the edge of his jaw, feeling the scratch of his stubble against the soft pillow of your lips. Dean had allowed it to grow out a little more than usual and you loved that.

"And what would we do?" Dean asks you innocently, but his green eyes gleam with mischief, tracing down to where his shirt rests over your thighs.

"Something that would get our pulses racing-"

Dean tackles you back against your bed, his lips inches apart from yours. “I’d like that sweetheart.”

“Thought so.”

Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to my taglist for the Before You Go Series please let me know! 😊

Taglist:

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[forlix]

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀・779 / 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴・hyunjin x gn!reader / 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲(𝘀)・fluff, established relationship, intentional lowercase / 𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲・inspired by That ig post and my own recent visit to tokyo. happy birthday, @astraystayyh; consider this my official proposal (˘⌣˘ )♡

𝟭𝟳:𝟱𝟮 — when you slip out the hotel’s double doors, you’re stunned to find the world has gone completely dark.

just a few hours ago, you were oohing and ahhing at the colorful chaos of tokyo as the van trudged slowly along the jammed freeway. now, blue has been overtaken by obsidian, and the illuminated city sprawls beneath an invisible horizon like stars plucked from the empty sky.

“the sun sets early here, huh?” hyunjin hums as he appears at your side. his dark hair is scented and silky from his shower, his broad shoulders outlined by the denim trench coat he’s thrown over a black turtleneck—the most beautiful boy on earth, and he’s yours.

“i was j-just thinking that,” you answer through chattering teeth, and your boyfriend’s chuckle hits the air in the form of a silver cloud.

“i told you you’d need this.”

he drapes a puffer jacket around you; his arm follows, draws you near. you slot into his side perfectly.

“better?”

your eyes lock with hyunjin’s, then flicker downwards. the doormen are busy loading a luggage cart. the foyer is empty for the most part. empty enough. 

“better,” you respond, moments before you lose yourself in the warm pressure of his lips.

soft hair tickles your cheeks like butterfly wings. hyunjin’s been tempted to cut it recently, complaining that it’s getting too long. you’ve been rejecting the notion vehemently, and this is one of many reasons why. your fingers skim over the base of his neck, and the air that hyunjin sucks through his teeth whistles past your parted mouth.

“cold,” he whines. 

a giggle escapes your throat. “sorry.”

recently, your and hyunjin’s schedules have been clashing so awfully that you really only see each other before and after bed. both of you are well accustomed to these cycles of mutual scarcity by now; it is enough, during such times, just falling asleep to the sound of the other’s voice, or waking to kisses scattered across every inch of exposed skin and a quiet, melancholy “see you tonight, angel.”

but then, you miraculously stumble upon a free weekend that coincides with the last leg of hyunjin’s tour. he’s on the phone with staff within seconds of hearing the news; your boarding pass arrives in your inbox later that night; now, here you are, in japan on a friday night, burrowed in your boyfriend’s arms, your sights set on a tiny udon joint in the back alleys of shinjuku.

going out in public with hyunjin feels like you’re playing poker. dispatch is your opponent and the deck is always rigged. ninety-nine percent of the time, you prefer to circumvent the game entirely. 

you’re all in, tonight.

“it’s a twenty-seven minute walk.” dark locks fall into hyunjin’s face as he looks at the navigation app on his phone. “is that okay?”

“you tell me. you’re the one who rehearsed for three hours today." you reach for the loose strands; tuck them behind the cuff of his ear. “maybe we should just take the subway.”

“but i wanna explore the city with you.”

“and we can, after your concerts.”

“i only have you for two days. let’s start now.”

the funny look you give him says, we have an apartment together, idiot, and he hastens to add—

“okay, i only have you here for two days. it’s different.”

that, you can’t argue with. hyunjin takes your lack of a retort as his cue to begin your journey, dragging the both of you onto the sidewalk. 

“i will not be the one answering to chan when you oversleep tomorrow,” you mumble.

his hand stretches out where it rests on your shoulder, silently asking for yours. you oblige before you even process his request, your fingers sliding thoughtlessly in the spaces between his.

“deal.” hyunjin presses a swift kiss to your temple, your eye squinting shut at the contact.

if you’re being honest, you hardly remember the walk to the restaurant. all the bright lights are beautiful but get old quickly, eventually blurring into a forgettable, fluorescent mass.

what you do remember is hyunjin’s excited gasp when he recognizes the anime being advertised on a distant billboard. hyunjin’s flawless japanese as he helps an old couple with directions, and the proud smile he wears afterward (he’s been practicing). hyunjin’s fingers pulling you close by the loops of your jeans, his mouth slanting over yours for the ninth, tenth time with no justification except for you’re just so pretty. hyunjin’s hair fluttering over his eyes when he tilts his head at the camera, the resulting picture so maddeningly beautiful that it becomes your new wallpaper right away.

what you do remember from that evening, and what you would remember in every iteration of your life, is hyunjin.

(you remember the udon, too. it was very good.)

🔖 (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@skzms・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn

© 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘅 (est. 090323) · 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

[feasibilities]

Office Hours - Dr. Oppenheimer x Graduate Student!Reader (Part 2)

Synopsis: Dr. Oppenheimer continues an affair with his former student.

Warnings: Teacher/Student Relationship, Cheating, Smut, Nervous Breakdown, Sexism

Author's Note: This is the 1st fic I'm posting as a 23-year-old. Sorry it took so long. Enjoy!

Click here to read part one!

Your affair with Robert was best thing you could ask for and now it was going up in flames before your eyes. 

“I leave tomorrow morning.” He said softly, cradling your nude body. 

“If you love me, you wouldn’t go. What is so important that you can’t write or call? I won’t even know where you will be.” You croaked.

“I do love you but it’s out of my hands. I’m sorry.” He agonized. Suddenly, you stumbled off the bed and ran to the bathroom. He tried to follow behind you but the door was already locked. 

“Open the door.” He begged.

“Go away!” You wept. He stayed at the door listening to your muffled sobs until he dressed himself and left without a word. 

A nervous breakdown characterized the next few weeks. The invitations to outing from your friends slowed as they suspected you were too far gone. In a fit of rage, you destroyed your home. Your concerned neighbors contacted the authorities when they heard the commotion. Upon seeing a woman in hysterics, he apologized for wasting your time and left hastily. You smashed your framed doctorate degree in a final act of defiance. Finally, you fell asleep on your couch with the remnants of destruction around you. 

After a period of grief, you decided to pour yourself into research at your alma mater. Your gender proved to be a significant barrier. You began to omit your first name from peer-reviewed journals and reveled in the shock of your colleagues when they met you in person. Eventually, you got your own office. You felt a sense of normalcy for the first time in a while. 

You were surprised to see two U.S. soldiers waiting at your office door when you came into work. Your secretary explained that they were here on “private business matters”. You reluctantly invited them in and sat at your desk. Both of their uniforms were adorned with a variety of service ribbons. One of the soldiers explained that there was a classified project that required the assistance of scientists. He firmly added that if you were interested in the appointment, you needed to keep it a secret. The other seemed to be a form of reinforcement as he likely assumed you were male.

As great as things were going here, you thought this was a great opportunity to leave all of the baggage of California and gain worthwhile experience in your field. After a lengthy conversation, they told you that you had until Monday morning to decide—it was Wednesday. He handed you his business card and shook your hand. They left as quickly as they arrived. 

The encouragement of your friends and colleagues was enough for you to make a decision. On Friday afternoon, you watched everyone leave for weekend as you nervously twiddled the business card in your hands. You finally dialed the number and cleared your throat to boost your confidence. 

“Sergeant Fuller.” He answered, picking up the phone rather quickly.

“Hi, this is Dr. Y/L/N. I was calling to confirm my interest in the opportunity you mentioned on Wednesday.” You concluded, twirling the phone cord with your finger. 

“Great news. You will receive a memorandum with a start date in the mail. It should arrive on Monday afternoon.” He said.

“Thank you. Have a great weekend.” You replied, hanging up the phone. 

On the morning you were due to leave, you looked around at your empty 1-bedroom home for the last before beginning the 16 hour drive to Santa Fe, New Mexico. You made regular stops to take photos of the gorgeous landscape. Memories of a romantic excursion to Robert’s ranch in the Sangre de Cristo Range tugged at your heartstrings. You were exhausted by the time you reached the city. You checked into your assigned hotel and went to bed. 

The next morning, you reported to the U.S Army Corps of Engineers at 8:30 am. You met with a kindly woman named Dorothy McKibbin who gave you necessary documentation and directions to Los Alamos. The process proved to be tedious as a thorough background check was conducted in order to give you security clearance. Little to your knowledge, your offer letter was signed by your previous paramour, Robert Oppenheimer. 

You drove to the location and made it through the military checkpoint in one piece. While you were being escorted to the on-site housing complexes, you were amazed at how a bustling city was built in the middle of nowhere. You were given a quaint 1-bedroom apartment in a building with a gorgeous, forested background. Your belongings were diligently searched and put away deftly. 

“Are we allowed to call our family and friends?” You asked, searching for a landline. 

“Phones aren’t permitted in private residences. There’s a phone in the lobby for emergencies.” A volunteer soldier defined as if he’s said this many times before. You   rolled your eyes and thanked him for his help. Before he left, he made an attempt at encouragement. 

“You’ll be in history books for this. Try to make the best of it, miss.” He remarked, closing the door behind him. Your only connection to the outside world was a radio gifted to you by your secretary. You sat it on a table near the window so it could get the best signal possible. Bing Crosby serenaded your decorating process. Your finishing touch was hanging your graduate degree above your desk. To keep yourself sane, you decided to keep a daily journal. 

The following day, you decided to explore the locale. You found a café near the log and stone cottages on site. After ordering, you sat at an empty table in a corner and wrote in your journal. A familiar voice interrupted your mindless scribbling. You looked up and saw Robert and his heavily pregnant wife, Kitty. They were meeting with a burly man in an army uniform. You were so bewildered that you couldn’t move. Unbeknownst to his wife, Robert saw you walk in and insisted they go in for some inexplicable reason. Kitty ordered him to go up and order since she was much too tired. He ordered a coffee for the two of them and a chocolate croissant for Table No. 9. A few minutes later, the pastry arrived to your table with a note taped to the plate. 

I’ve missed you dearly. Meet me at Stone Lodge #6 at 7pm. 

-Robert  

—

You came to the cabin prepared to admonish Robert for his impudent actions. Instead, your nude body was intertwined with his as it was on the last night you saw him. The fireplace crackled quietly in the background of his perfervid dedication to you. Afterwards, you decided it was time to address the elephant in the room. 

“Do you love me like you love Kitty?” You said quietly, intertwining your fingers with his. His eyes flickered pensively before he answered. 

“No, I love you in a different way.” He replied confidently, kissing you deeply. You kissed back with the same intensity and then pulled away. 

“Would you leave her for me?” You asked daringly, catching your breath. Signs of disquiet crept into his stark features. In an effort to soothe himself, he lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. 

“I can’t answer that.” He admitted. You felt a deep sting at his words. 

“Do you remember what you promised me at Sangre de Cristo?” You interrogated. 

“Yes, but-“ He started, ashing the cigarette.

“I was promised a ring, a baby, and a life out of the dark. And yet, here I am with nothing.” You croaked, tears filling your eyes.

“It’s more complicated than that. I…recommended you for this project because I felt horrible about how things ended. I was sworn to secrecy.” He explained, taking your hand in his. There were millions of things running through your mind. Staying silent, you rolled over and fell asleep. He put out his cigarette and embraced you from behind. 

Waking up the next morning, Robert watched as you dressed yourself.

“If you’d like, I can drive you back to your apartment and wait for you. We’re running a bit late.” He said, adjusting his tie and looking at his watch. 

“Are you sure you’re not embarrassed to be seen in public with me?” You murmured. 

“No.” He spoke softly, pulling a jacket over your shoulders and kissing you tenderly. 

While waiting outside of your apartment building, Robert pondered the aforementioned promise he gave you. He wished there was some way to make a honest woman of you and keep Kitty happy. He was at an impasse that seemed impossible to solve. Gazing at his watch once more, he wondered what was keeping you. Before he could go check on you, you were walking to the car. The curls in your hair were pristine and your makeup complimented your carefully-selected outfit. 

“Ready to go?” You said with a coy smile, breaking his trance. 

“Y-yes.” He stuttered, driving off. 

Robert spent the little free time he had that morning admiring your beauty. You made it a point to cross your legs to sneakily show off your garter belt. His colleagues were equally distracted but were much better at hiding their ogling. At noon, he caught you alone in the hallway. You were whisked into his office for a brief liaison. At the pinnacle, his desk began to scrape against the floor with his impassioned movements. You two had made love countless times but there was a lustral quality to moment. He lingered until the alarm signaled for everyone to return to work. 

—

Too busy frolicking with his former student, Robert forgot to tend to his pregnant wife at home. Kitty had went into labor in the middle of the night and he received a courtesy call from Rabi. Naturally, he rushed to her side and reveled in the arrival of his baby girl. You felt disposed of once more but had little time to wallow in self-pity—you were pregnant. You felt a mix of gratification and dread. You had a lifelong connection to the only man you ever loved but could end up raising the child with a fleeting father. You had no idea what to do outside of telling him in person.

You knocked on the door of the cabin and waited for him to answer. He opened the door with a smile on his face and went to hand you a drink before you handed him papers from the nearby clinic. He stayed calm as he read through them.

“What are we going to do?” You asked nervously. He took your hand in his and sat you next to him.

“This is what we planned for. I made a promise to you and I plan to keep it.” He declared. You wordlessly embraced him and hoped he was telling the truth. 

The End

[persephone-writes]

A Diviner's Guide to James Potter

Chapter One: The Omen

James Potter x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Chapter Two ☆ Series Masterlist

Series Description: Being friends with Lily Evans was difficult when you were head over heels for her ex-boyfriend James. Your problems are only made worse when you begin receiving ominous omens that point to a less than desirable future.

General Fic Warnings & Tags: Marauders era seventh year, female reader (she/her/miss/etc.), use of Y/N and L/N, readers appearance is not described other than her generally being able-bodied and larger than a house elf, at some point the reader smokes cigarettes/weed/drinks alcohol (don't smoke, kids), swearing typical of an 18 year old in the UK, canon-typical violence, dueling, and first wizarding war stuff, mentions of the readers mother and father, mentions of characters getting sick after drinking but no descriptions.

Notes: hey! so just a fair warning that this is a slow burn and the first couple of chapters in are particularly plot heavy. Also, this is cross posted on my ao3 if you want to give it a read there instead :)

Word Count: 4.3k

The near silence of the library was a welcomed escape from the busy corridors and lively Common Room, which was always packed just after classes ended. Tomorrow was Friday and Gryffindor was playing a quidditch match this weekend, meaning your chance to have any amount of free time in the coming days relied heavily on some Thursday night cramming. At the heavy wooden table tucked between tall rows of books, you and Remus worked quietly. It was one of the rare times you were alone together, and his aura of calm placidity was exactly what you needed at the moment. 

Despite your intentions of studying, the papers strewn out in front of you were beginning to give you a headache. If you were somewhere with a more lenient volume policy, you would’ve groaned rather dramatically in utter frustration or banged your head against the table top. It had been a long time since you’ve been this lost on an assignment, a Divination assignment, no less. Your eyes kept pulling away from the three different books laid before you, running instead along the dark shelves and bumpy leather spines. It was a treat when one of them flew from its place, skirting out of your nook and down the aisle in a blur of solid color. 

You both had gotten one and a half lovely, serene hours of uninterrupted study time before your mutual friend came around the corner, plopping down suddenly in the seat beside you. Your daydreams were interrupted, replaced by an even better distraction. James smiled brightly at you, curly brown hair in a heap on top of his head. You couldn’t help but grin back, his pleasantness infectious even when you were in a sour mood. 

“Hello,” you said, forgetting your work completely. 

He returned your greeting before frowning at Remus over his complete lack of acknowledgment upon his arrival. 

“What's got you so focused?” he whispered, glancing down at the parchment that Remus was writing on. 

“Transfiguration,” he answered, still engrossed and only half listening. James shot him a funny look which caused you to stifle a laugh, though Remus was unamused. 

“I can see you, you know,” he drawled. 

James snickered quietly, attempting to keep up a his newfound facade as a serious student, lest he ruin his impeccable reputation. 

“Why’re you slumming it here with us?” you asked James, your head coming to rest in your hand as you turned to face him. His wire-rimmed glasses began to fall, so he pushed them back up onto the bridge of his nose.

“He should be here to study,” Remus added, finally smirking to himself. James rolled his eyes, throwing his arms over the back of his chair. 

“Can’t even pay your friends a visit anymore, I see.” He tipped his chair back on two legs, dangerously close to falling. After a moment of careful balancing, he returned all four legs to the floor where they belonged, his head lulling onto his shoulder. “Sirius ditched me to run off with Seraphina, and Peter and Marlene are joining forces on Herbology.”

Seraphina was Sirius’s most recent belle, but no one thought it would last much longer. She didn’t like that he smoked and he detested her revulsion to it. Before his date with her last weekend, he had to wash his hair twice and use far too much cologne, which gave everyone around him an awful headache. This may be the couple's last hoorah, as you had been with Sirius not three hours ago, each of you puffing smoke out of the window of an empty classroom. 

“Why don’t you help?” you asked, referring to Peter and Marlene.

“Peter says I’m mean when I help,” answered James with a shrug. 

“How awful,” you teased, watching as a large green book shot out of the shelf over Remus’ head, whipping left down the aisle. It was true that sometimes James couldn’t understand that things didn’t come so easy to everyone. Once, you had stupidly asked him for his help in DADA. Never again. 

“That's all right,” James began again, “With those gits ditching me, you’re my new favorite. Not Remus, of course. He won’t give me enough attention.”

You hated when he did that: made you feel special. He couldn’t possibly be serious, as it was simply the perfect opportunity to take a dig at his friend. But Godric, did you want it to be true. Until now you had done a very good job at projecting a casual air about yourself, protecting your feelings behind a mask of mild indifference. You tried your best to regain what was left of your resolve, cracked by his stupid joke and the way he was looking so handsome today. It was criminal, really, an Azkaban level offense. You wanted to slap that lovely, teasing smile from his face and throw him under the invisibility cloak. Begrudgingly, you laughed, Remus snorting as he continued to scratch away with his quill. 

“Oh, and I wasn’t before?” you said, hopefully hiding your fancy. 

James rolled his eyes again, thankfully not having noticed anything out of the ordinary. You must’ve been an excellent actress, or James was an extraordinary friend, because he never seemed to catch on no matter how badly you slipped up. You weren’t sure if things were easier or harder when Lily was always hanging off his arm. Godric, had that been a tough eight months. 

James then changed the subject to something less threatening to your long-held secret, much to your relief, “I’ve been running over some new maneuvers with the team. It’s taking some of the younger ones a bit to get the hang of, but we’re looking good. I don’t think Hufflepuff has a chance on Saturday.” 

“That's great,” you whispered.

“Sirius came up with some of it, worked on it all day last Sunday with me. We’re calling it the Grumblesnad–” 

James went on to explain, or attempt to explain, the rather complicated plays he and Sirius had invented. Half of the technical jargon you did not understand, though you were able to catch the gist. He seemed so eager to tell you that you refrained from stopping him too often, wanting to watch his eyes light up and hands wave mindlessly. You enjoyed when he was like this, entranced by his own excitement, unburdened and utterly content. 

Soon after James had finished his animated explanation of the Grumblesnad, it was just about time for dinner. The sun had gone down around an hour ago, leaving the library to be lit only by the large lamps hanging upon the walls. Although the room was warm and glowing, begging you to stay just a while longer, your hunger was beginning to get to you. You and Remus packed up your things, throwing all three of your Divination books into your bag. Remus held a thick, wide tome, the cover decorated with tangled vines and pale purple flowers. 

“You guys go on without me,” he said, propping up the book in the crook of his elbow like the pose of a marble statue. “I’ve got to check this out.”

Remus walked past you and James to head down the labyrinthine aisles with another word, you and James following behind. You each left the library together, Remus promising again that he’d catch up. 

Your journey was in silence for a while, James’s shoes clicking against the stone floor like a metronome. There were many other students heading your same direction, a few first or second years whizzing past in a fit of laughter. You smiled at the memory of your first few years at Hogwarts, remembering for the first time in a while that you’d be leaving here for good in a matter of months. You had been so shy at first, clinging to Lily like she was a buoy out in the ocean. Severus had done the same, though as the years went on he seemed to shrivel a bit, slinking back into the shadows while Lily moved farther into the light. She had dragged you along with her, practically forcing you to be friends with those who had remained acquaintances for the better part of five years. For this, you would always be eternally grateful. 

You were pulled from your shameless reminiscing when James reached out for the strap of your bag, taking it from you before you could do anything about it. 

“What’re you doing?” you asked as he threw it over his shoulder, adjusting the strap a bit.  

“Godric, this thing is heavy,” he said, making a show if it dragging him down towards the floor. You laughed, soon beginning to play with your tie, not knowing what else to do with your hands. 

“You don’t have to carry it for me,” you said softly, feeling rather bad. Now, each of his shoulders was carrying its own load, yours unburdened.  

He shook his head immediately, curls flopping against his forehead. 

“I don’t mind,” he said, brushing it off as if it were nothing at all. “Besides, you’ll end up falling to the dungeons carrying this thing.”

You bit your tongue so that you wouldn’t tell him how kind he was, how much he made you into someone rather witless. You dropped your hands, swinging them a few times before they met behind your back. It was getting worse. You could tell by the way you had to keep on reminding yourself to act like a normal person, constantly having to make sure you weren't letting anything on. It was difficult to pinpoint when this change occurred, though knowing the exact date and time wouldn't really do you much good in the end. Something in you was breaking, and it scared you shitless. 

“But really," James said, holding onto the strap of your bag, "what do you have in this?”

You shrugged. “Just some books, a few boulders thrown in for good measure.”

He shoved you lightly on the shoulder, throwing you slightly off kilter. You giggled, cringing at yourself as you did. Soon you could see the large doors to the Great Hall up ahead, and you ran over to them. You then made a show of opening one for him, waiting patiently for him to catch up. He smiled, and you were glad to have put it there.

“Just trying to return the favor,” you said, laughing when he passed you, feigning displeasure. 

He handed you back your bag as you parted ways, you heading over to your side of the table near Lily, him with the other Marauders. Walking down the aisle, you let out a silent sigh of blissful relief, having mostly rid yourself of him for the time being. No matter how much you enjoyed his company, it was an awful amount of work acting nonchalant, particularly when he kept being so nice. It was always better when you were in a group and he was forced to split his attention between multiple parties. Currently, mealtimes were becoming your new favorite. 

As you sat down in your usual spot between Lily and Marlene, you plopped your bag down on floor behind you, which landed with a heavy thud. Lily glanced over her shoulder to look at it. 

“Godric, what’s in that thing?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

The fire in the Common Room popped, sending a flurry of orange sparks into the alcove of the stone hearth. Most had settled in for the night, filling the room with a steady stream chatter and scratching quills. James and Sirius sat across from each other at one of the small tables in the back doing schoolwork, Lily and Peter beside them playing a game of wizards chess. You and Remus were reading in two of the large armchairs, you with a muggle novel borrowed from Lily. 

Sirius's elbows were resting on the table, his head in his hands and mouth slightly agape. He shook his head a bit, eyes wide as he started down at his papers. 

“Do you think Professor Vector dreams in Arithmancy, or it’s just a hobby?”

You looked up from your book, noticing Sirius’s paper covered with exed out numbers and messily written notes. He still wore his uniform, though his tie was undone and the top two buttons of his shirt, which was growing wrinkled, had been opened. Lily's head popped up from where it was turned down towards her game, which she was currently winning. She leaned over to peer at his paper the best she could.

“What’s the matter?” she asked kindly. Sirius only gave her a glance before looking at James, who was stifling a laugh. 

“It’s your fault,” said Sirius, scoffing at his friend’s continued chortling. “You forced me to take it third year. Should’ve been like Wormtail and gone the easy route.”

You all knew he was lying, for despite all his bitching and moaning, Sirius was just as bright as James. He’d complain endlessly about Arithmancy just as he had done last year when he convinced himself he’d flunk the O.W.L, in which he ultimately scored an O. Once and a while he might even brood over such fears, tucking himself away in a dark corner of the library to study, fighting off a great deal of unnecessary anxiety. 

“Hey!” Peter piped up at the mention of his name, especially due to its use in such an offending fashion. Lily made an excellent move, snagging one of his knights. Peter groaned in frustration, momentarily distracted. 

“Divination is a valuable subject, one that is often overlooked by certain individuals,” you defended, glaring at Sirius before offering Peter a much needed smile. 

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Sirius said, flicking his head to get the hair out of his eyes. You shrugged, turning back to your book. “You’re only saying that ‘cause you’re good at it,” he grumbled, looking back down at his papers to concentrate on the confusing array of seemingly nonsensical numbers. 

“Doesn’t take much,” said Remus from his armchair, legs curled up like a pretzel. Now you were grumbling, mumbling something about his “Stupid E in Ancient Runes.”

James began screwing the cap back on his inkwell, gathering his parchment into a neat pile before him. Lily and Peter had turned back to their game, Peter taking an awfully long while contemplating his next move. He finally made one, taking out one of her rooks. 

“How’d your fish thing go?” James asked, looking between you and Peter. Your most recent Divinations project, which you had been working on in the library, involved Ichthyomancy, or the helpful power of fish in the prediction of one's fortune. You were to carefully observe the fish of the Great Lake for a few hours during a “completely and utterly random time of day!” and attempt to read your fortune for the coming weeks. 

Peter sighed heavily at the mention of the project, sinking further into his chair. Lily was still glancing at the game board, twirling a lock of auburn hair between her fingers. 

“Well…” said Peter, somewhat sniveling. 

“Not having any luck?” you asked. “No pun intended.”

Peter sighed again, shaking his head. “Just when I think I’ve got something, they all seem to swim away. I think I’m repelling them or something.” 

“Not surprising,” said Sirius, still focused on his own work.

“You should be studying,” Remus reminded him, to which Sirius surprisingly obeyed. If anyone could get Sirius to do something, it was Remus. It was if he possessed an ancient form of magic no one else knew.

“How about you,” James asked. “You said you were coming along swimmingly the other day.” You could tell he was rather proud of himself for that one from the look on his face, eyes glancing between the others as if to see if anyone else noticed. Any other time you would have readily appeased him and laughed, but all your willingness to jest had drained from you the moment he asked the question. 

“Well…” you began, echoing Peter. You weren’t sure if you wanted to bring it up just yet, though you didn’t want to lie either. Your head fell back against the chair as you let out a small, crippled noise. “I thought I was, but then today in the library I was trying to cross reference the meaning, but I’m getting all these odd readings.”

“Like what?” Lily inquired, moving a piece on the board. Peter let out a breath of relief when all of his pieces remained safe. 

“The first thing I saw right when I got out there was a school of eight orange fish heading with the current, due north. So, that's obviously unbridled joy. ”

“ Obviously ,” mumbled Remus. 

You rolled your eyes and continued, “Then, there were twelve pink ones heading across, due west, not with or against the current. However, another joined in–”

“Oh,” said Lily, catching the meaning. Peter nodded in acknowledgment as well. 

“Yeah, so heartache. But, that's not even the worst of it. After a few hours with nothing much happening, I spotted a red and purple fish amongst a school of white,” you trailed off, watching Lily’s face contort in confusion, her hands coming up to the arms of her chair. 

“You’re kidding!” 

James perked up, glancing between each of you, who like Peter didn’t seem to have a clue what any of it meant. Remus and Sirius had now been fully roused, book and schoolwork forgotten. 

“What? What?” James asked, though neither you nor Lily replied soon enough for his liking. “Come on, what is it? What's so bad about a red and purple fish?” 

Lily swallowed, turning to James. “Red and purple is bad. ”

“Really bad,” you added. 

“Did you catch how many white ones were in the school?” Lily inquired. 

“No, I’d guess around ten, but I can’t be sure.” You shot her a pained, slightly terrified expression, knowing the less white fish the better. Ten or so was not a good sign. 

Lily sighed and all fell silent for a beat, the once easy atmosphere becoming tense and suffocating. You heard Peter picking at a loose thread on his seat. 

“What does it mean?” James asked.

Lily answered, speaking slowly and with great purpose, “Well, in isolation, it can predict a discovery of sorts, though accompanied by so many of the white-” she faltered, eyes dancing to yours. 

“It would seem to indicate a total loss of innocence,” you finished. Sirius perked, casting you an impish smirk.

“A loss of innocence?” he repeated, slow and so bloody irritating . “That doesn’t sound too bad.”

“Not that kind of innocence,” Lily corrected. 

“It’s more like a complete change in worldview, like witnessing the death of a loved one,” you explained. Again came silence, Peter pursing his lips and lowering his head like a vigil for your fate.

“But, uh–” James stammered, “you said you also got signs of ‘unbridled joy.’ How can you have that and the death of a loved one?”

“I said like the death of a loved one.”

“That doesn’t change anything.” The intensity of his worry was blinding. You figured he had a lot of practice between Remus and Sirius. 

“I don’t know how they’re supposed to connect. That’s why I’m so confused over it.” You turned to Lily. “Do you have any clue? Any at all?” 

Lily sat deep in thought, a hand coming to her face. She rubbed down her cheek, her foot beginning to tap on the carpet. “No,” she said sadly, “I don’t. I’m sorry.”

Before you had told anyone, you were easily able to brush it off as no big deal. Now, with your friend’s tensed jaws and pitying glances, your fears had been confirmed. You began to loathe yourself for drawing so much attention towards your problems, wishing that Lily would do something to hide her increasing concern. You didn't like seeing her like this, nor any of the others for that matter. Remus shifted around so he could sit properly in his chair, slipping a bookmark into the pages of his novel and tossing it aside.

“Does it have to be bad, per se?” he asked. 

From the corner of your eye, you saw James running a finger along the neck of his sweater. 

“I don’t think so," you said finally, "but I’m not sure what sort of prediction I could make based on what I’ve been able to gather. I have joy, heartache, and a loss of innocence. When I just had the joy and heartache, I thought that maybe something bad would happen that turned out to be good in the end, or that something good would turn out to be bad. There’s a million options for that, I could have easily come up with a reading to turn in for class. But that bloody red and purple fish had to come along and spoil the whole thing.” You let out an exasperated sigh, guilty once again for your rant, although no one seemed annoyed with you. On the contrary, all appeared genuinely saddened by your strange omen. 

“It can’t be that bad, whatever it is," said Lily. "You know how Divination can be sometimes. You get this awful omen and it turns out that you just break a quill or get the flu.” She leaned over towards you, face full of a profound compassion that she had worn for so many before. It reminded you of the way she used to look at Severus years ago before their falling out, when he appeared to her a small, shy kid in need of a friend. For a brief moment, your worries switched from the omen to the acute possibility you would one day be like him, mourning the loss of her friendship caused by your own betrayal towards her. 

"She's right," Peter offered, giving what he could. You smiled, trying to match his and Lily's enthusiasm. 

“I ought to owl my parents, make sure the house hasn’t collapsed,” you joked, though no one seemed to find it very funny. 

James said your name, downtrodden and caring. “It’ll be all right, I’m sure of it.” 

“You could always ask Professor Quattlebaum,” Peter suggested, voice lifting a bit.

After a moment you nodded slowly, taking a short breath through your nose. “I probably should, though it might take from my grade.”

“Or you could go fishing just kill the slimy thing,” Sirius said, making a much better attempt at brightening the mood than yours was. “That has to have some sort of effect.”

“Not really how it works, Sirius,” said Lily solemnly. 

“James is right,” you began, your tone as brave as you could bear, “it’ll be fine. It’s probably like you said, Lily. It’ll turn out to be so silly, then we’ll have a good laugh over worrying about it so much.”

After brushing off a few more comments of concern, you all went back to working quietly, Remus devouring his book once more. You tried to do the same, but your eyes seemed to gloss over the words without reading them. Eventually, Lily won the game with Peter, though didn’t gloat over her victory. As the evening lengthened, students meandered out of the Common Room and to their dormitories. Sirius was the only one left with schoolwork to do, excusing himself to his room so he could “focus on the dumbest subject in history…besides Divination.”  

“How studious!” James called out to him, watching as he ascended the staircase. Sirius threw up his middle finger, not looking back.

It wasn’t long after that you checked your wristwatch, noticing it getting late. You excused yourself to your room, the others likely heading to bed themselves sooner rather than later.

When you entered your dormitory, Marlene and Dorcas were laid out on their beds chatting. Dorcas had an impressive pile of candy in front of her: Chocolate Frogs, Dolly Beads, Caramel Cobwebs, Fizzing Whizbees, and various forms of glimmering marshmallows. Marlene reached across the space between their beds and grabbed a pink, rose shaped one, taking a large bite out of it. 

“Oi!” Dorcas protested, though Marlene only laughed maniacally, leaning back against her headboard. 

“Having yourselves a feast, I see,” you said to them, kicking off your shoes beside your bed. 

“ Dorcas is having a feast,” Marlene drawled, “and being rather stingy, too.” 

“You’re aware it’s a Thursday?” you said with a smile, glancing over your shoulder to see Dorcas open up a Chocolate Frog package. 

“I’m aware,” she said, grabbing the leaping frog in record time. It squirmed a bit in an attempt to hop away before growing still. Dorcas took a bite of it, pulling out the collectable card from the box. "Ugh, Artemisia Lufkin again?"

When you emerged from the lavatory ready for bed, Lily had just walked into the room, untying her shoes by the door. You climbed into your four-poster, getting ready to draw the curtains when she came up to you, mouth pulled to one side. 

“Are you sure you’re all right?” 

You had unwisely hoped that nothing more would be said about your omen, now wishing more than ever you hadn't even brought it up to begin with. You couldn't think of a way she could help you any more than she already had, hating that she was likely racking her brain for solutions. 

You nodded, smiling softly in an effort to ease her. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s like you said, it’ll turn out to be nothing.”

She nodded, her eyes drifting across your face before she gave you a small smile, turning to retrieve her own pajamas and leaving you to cocoon yourself in for the night. You pulled your curtains closed to the sound of Lily's footsteps creaking on an ancient floorboard.

End Notes: at any point in this series, if you notice something that should go under the warnings/tags, please let me know! The same goes for grammatical errors. this gal is dyslexic, so as Nick from New Girl so aptly put it, I'm not even sure if I know how to read, I've only just memorized a lot of words. Misspellings don't even look wrong to me lol

Chapter Two

[saturnville]

echoes in the heights, terry richmond | chapter two

Synopsis: In the quiet town of Riverside Heights, Terry Richmond seeks a fresh start, but his growing connection with the guarded Elara Taylor forces him to confront the past he’s tried to leave behind—and the future he’s afraid to embrace.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!Fem!OC (Elara Taylor)

A/N: Unless you’d like to be removed, you must interact with a reblog and/or comment to keep your spot on the taglist. Enjoy!

Tags: @mauvecherie-writes @saintslewis @vile-harlot @emjayewrites @turn-thy-paige @theglamclosetsl

A/N/N: It took forever to post cause I keep changing the direction I want the story to go, so if you have suggestions, let me know. Comments and reblogs are highly encouraged and typically result in quicker updates. Just saying. Okay, enjoy.

Riverside Heights grew on Terry quicker than he anticipated. He had a routine that he followed strictly, making acclimating to a new environment more manageable. 

Monday through Friday, he woke up at five to work out before his shifts, which were from eight in the morning to five in the evening. He had dinner with Ms. Willis every night, which Jackson often interrupted on Wednesday nights. On Fridays, he went to the grocery store after work, and on the weekends, he went to the park to read on the benches and attend service with Ms. Willis like he used to as a child. It was a modest routine but one he enjoyed. 

It was a busy Saturday afternoon in Riverside Heights. A fair was happening in the town's heart at the community center. It was a child’s playground with games, food, drinks, and fellowship among its inhabitants. Terry didn’t have anyone to go with as Jackson had a date with his wife and still hadn’t made many friends. He didn’t mind it, though. It allowed him to mix and mingle with other members of the community. 

He met a woman named Tanya. She was a “sweet Southern belle,” as she called herself. And sweet she was. She offered to drop off some of her famous peach cobbler that her husband deemed “God’s gift to Riverside Heights.” 

“Thank you, Tanya.” Terry’s smile was as genuine as the sky’s blue hue. Small acts of kindness like hers felt like blessings, rare and cherished. 

Her gapped-tooth grin shone brightly as she patted his chest. “No problem at all. Join us for Sunday football one of these days. My husband is tired of being around soccer lovers.”

Terry nodded. “I’ll be there.” Tanya bid her farewells again before skipping the small rides with her daughters. Though it was complex every day, interactions like those he had with Tanya, Ms. Willis, and Jackson made acclimation a bit more feasible. 

He smiled to himself as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. It would be a good day. 

-

Sometime later, Terry sat alone on an old bench munching on freshly made popcorn. His time at the fair had been a good one. Happiness and satisfaction were in the air and wrapped around him like a hug. 

He glanced at his watch. He’d been at the fair for over two hours and was prepared to go home. He grunted softly as he pushed himself up on his feet. He adjusted his shirt and pants, swiping off popcorn kernels. As he turned, he met with Ms. Elara Taylor herself. 

Outside of work, she seemed lighter and less intense. She wasn’t wearing her usual two-piece suit and skyscrapers, which she called heels. Instead, she wore a flowy summer dress, orange against her rich complexion. She was stunning. 

“Fancy seeing you here,” she said as she approached him. She was much shorter than usual without heels, maybe because she didn’t have to operate as a dictator when she wasn't at work. “Here alone?” 

Terry tossed his empty popcorn container in a nearby trashcan and nodded twice. “I am. You?” 

“I am. Figured I’d stop by and grab a churro,” she said, waving her dessert in the air before taking a bite. “How’s Riverside treating you?” 

Terry could admit that her sudden change in demeanor had him suspicious. She was soft-spoken and flowy with her movements. And…she smiled. She never smiled at work. Her lips were straight, while her eyebrows were set in a deep frown. She looked beautiful when she smiled—if only she’d done it more. It was better than the scowl she walked around with all the time. 

“What?” She said, pulling him out of his thoughts. “What do you mean I should smile more?”

Oh. He tended to murmur, but it would only be to himself. Too bad it happened out loud. Rather than attempting to take back what he said, albeit accidentally, he repeated, “You should smile more.” 

Her head tilted, her straight hair following its movement. Her eyebrows furrowed as they do every workday, and the sides of her lips twisted upward. “I do smile.”

Terry chuckled and shook his head. He glanced at the sky briefly before bringing his gaze back to her. “You don’t. At least not at work. You look mean and like you never want to be bothered.” He crossed his arms across his chest and looked down at her. 

Elara scoffed in disbelief and dropped her hands by her side. Terry’s eyebrows raised in amusement.“Yup, just like that.” 

“You know what,” she huffed. “You are insufferable.” Terry cocked his head to the side. There was no way those words came out of her mouth. The woman who had men quaking in fear whenever she entered a room called him insufferable. He had to laugh. 

Elara’s eyes narrowed at his laughter, the corners of her mouth twitching despite herself. He had a cute laugh. He laughed with his whole body—shoulders wiggling, eyebrows raised, and all his shiny teeth on display. His usual beautiful orbs were almost unseen, and his eyes crinkled as each giggle tumbled from his lips. She’d never seen him this happy. “Glad you’re entertained,” she mumbled, her voice laced with mock irritation. 

His laughter died down, and his smile shifted to a smirk. “I’m sorry,” he said, clearly not sorry at all. “I’ve just…I’ve never heard anyone say that to me before. Especially you.”

Her head jerked back as she side-eyed him. She crossed her eyes as if challenging him. Her churro was long-forgotten as it dug into her arm. “And why is that?”

“You’re always so serious. I didn’t think insufferable was in your vocabulary,” he teased, leaning closer. Elara’s breath hitched. “Thought you stuck to words like unacceptable or insufficient.” 

Elara rolled her eyes, though a reluctant smile tugged at her lips. "You think you know me, don't you?

"I think I know enough," Terry said, his grin widening.

Her expression softened briefly, and she glanced away as if gathering her thoughts. "Well, maybe you don't know everything, Mr. Richmond.” He liked how she said his name, especially outside of work. It was more breathy and natural, like a breath. “People can surprise you.” 

Terry tilted his head, intrigued. His eyes were locked on hers, and her gaze faltered just slightly. “Oh yeah? Like how you're surprising me right now by being... dare I say, fun?"

"Careful, or I might take it back," she quipped, pointing her churro at him like a weapon.

He held up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. No need for violence."

She shook her head, laughing softly. "You're ridiculous."

They stood there momentarily, their energy shifting into something lighter yet layered. The sounds of the fair—children laughing, music playing, and distant chatter—filled the silence between them.

"So," Terry said, breaking the moment, "do you come to these fairs often, or is this a rare 'Elara Taylor, off-duty' sighting?"

She raised an eyebrow. "And if I said it was rare?"

"I'd say I’m lucky to witness it."

She blinked, caught off guard by his sincerity. For a second, her usual defenses seemed to waver. "Well," she said, recovering quickly, "don't get used to it. I have a reputation to maintain."

"Noted," he replied, his smile softening. "But for what it's worth, you should let this side out more often. It's nice.” 

Elara opened her mouth to respond but hesitated, something unreadable flickering in her eyes. This man had her loins stirring in ways she hated to admit. And she hardly knew him. So, instead, she glanced at her watch. "I should get going,” she said.

Terry nodded, sensing the moment had run its course. "Alright. Don't let me keep you."

She turned to leave but paused, looking over her shoulder. "And Terry?"

"Yeah?"

"You're not as insufferable as I thought." With that, she walked away, her orange dress swaying in the breeze. 

Terry watched her go, a bemused smile on his face. Maybe Riverside Heights—and its people—had more to offer than he'd initially thought.

[hornyfor-redacted-onmain]

Secret Secret Chapter 4

OT8 Straykids x reader, ABO AU

Masterlist | Next Part

The rest of the week passed by surprisingly easily. You got around to meeting everybody else on the team, and you did your best to remember their names (thankfully most of them were older than you, which allowed you to easily pull the Oppa or Unnie card when you forgot). They were all kind and helpful, and at the worst indifferent to your presence, which allowed you to make it through the week fairly easily.

You were busy with promotional translations and working out the translation for a few videos that would be dropping the next week, so you saw little of the others as you spent most of your time on your computer. Even so, you managed to find some free time to meet up on Friday with Maya, who was swamped with picking out and modifying all the MV outfits that were scheduled for the end of the month.

When she plopped onto her chair with a sigh, you could only give her a sympathetic look. “Hey, you sure you have the time to have coffee with me?”

“I need a break. Believe me, this caffeine hit is the only thing keeping me going right now.”

“Looking forwards to the weekend?” You asked, knowing that she got Saturday and Sunday off.

“Hmm, I’m definitely going to enjoy my weekend,” Maya confirmed, sipping her coffee. “My girlfriend’s birthday is on Sunday, so we’re planning a small party to celebrate. What about you?”

“I think I’m just going to relax at home.”

You still had to come in on Saturday for a quick meeting to confirm the projects you had worked on that week before they were posted, but it would only be for an hour or two, which left the rest of the weekend free. Normally you and Sooyoung would go out, but you weren’t really feeling it, especially after what happened last week.

Maya lifted her head and gave you a soft smile. “Do you want to come to the party?”

“What time is it?”

“We’re planning for noon. A nice little lunch and then just a hang out afterwards. It’s just going to be me and my girlfriend, a few friends, and some coworkers,” Maya said.

You nodded in understanding. “I’ll probably stop by for a bit. Just send me the address.”

Both of you realized the issues immediately after you spoke, and she was pulling out her phone before you could even say you didn’t have her number out loud. The two of you exchanged numbers and had a comfortable conversation for a few minutes to finish your drinks. Your lunch officially ended when Maya received a text. She scowled.

You shared a knowing look. “Duty calls.”

-0-0-

The company building was practically empty this early on a Saturday morning. On the one hand you were mad at having to be awake so early on the weekend, but on the other hand you appreciated them getting this out of the way so you would have the rest of the afternoon free. The guard nodded in greeting to you as you passed to the elevators, and you smiled in return.

The meeting passed by pretty quickly, all things considered. Soojin, Jeonhui, and the head advertisement manager all joined you, along with a couple of other employees, and you went over the promotional material. You felt a little nervous when presenting your work, but nothing seemed out of place, and they quickly moved on to the next person with little to no words.

Maybe somebody else would have been offended by the way they seemed to look past you, but you took comfort in the indifference, knowing that it was the lack of attention that allowed you to be where you were now.

The meeting was over just as the clock struck 11, and Jeonhui wished you a good weekend as you were leaving. A few of the other employees lingered behind to talk with each other, but you weren’t close or comfortable enough to any of them to join them. You just wanted to go home.

The elevator reeked when you opened it.

The smell of spoiled milk and rotten strawberries hit you, and you immediately clamped a hand over your nose. Disappointment, anger, fear. Your omega was immediately on guard, and you felt like your heart had dropped down to your stomach.

“Ugh, what is that scent?”

“Is that … an omega?”

The other employees who had been behind you walked over, and even when the elevator doors closed once again, the air still lingered with the smell of an omega in distress. It made your hackles rise, and you felt the need to find that omega and comfort them, while another part of you wanted to run. An omega in distress usually meant danger.

You swallowed hard.

The female employee wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Gross. What’s an omega even doing in the building to begin with?”

“Probably one of the trainees. They like to come around and practice on weekdays, as if the extra effort changes the fact that they’re an omega’s.” The male employee said, waving his hand in front of his nose. “Disgusting.”

“That’s omegas for you. Think they deserve the world just because they’re so dainty and fragile. Ugh, I can’t stand them. Why does the company even allow omegas to audition anymore?”

“I don’t think they do. Must have just presented.”

“Let’s just take the stairs. I’ll get a cleaner to sterilize the elevator.”

The two employees walked away, either ignorant of or completely unaware of your rapidly changing mood. Their words echoed in your head, and you found your eyes welling up with tears, not self-consciously, but in anger. Anger at the way they talked so callously about another person, most likely a child.

They way they so nonchalantly and openly admitted the prejudice against omegas in the work force. And the way that neither one of them even thought for a second to go looking for that poor omega in need of help.

You weren’t like them.

You took the elevator, stopping on every floor you had access to and sniffing the air from the hallways. One of the upper floors, where the practice rooms could be found, had a lingering scent, but it was faint, which told you the omega had probably come from there.

You then checked the office floors below them, but they were surprisingly empty. Finally, you found yourself on a floor that you had yet to see, but the second the doors opened you knew it was the right one.

It was the studio floor, which held recording studios as well as production studios.

And it reeked.

The scent in the elevator had already begun to dissipate, so the strong smell was a good sign that the omega was still in the area. Why a trainee would be on the studio floor was beyond your knowledge, but you were on a mission. Your own omega snapped her jaws at the thought of the harsh cruel words from your fellow colleagues.

Gross.

Disgusting.

I can’t stand them.

You knew even if you had been a beta those words would have been offensive to you, and the fact that they said it so easily made your skin boil. You were grateful for your own scent blockers because there was no way they wouldn’t have noticed your soured mood otherwise.

You followed the smell past the entrance area, which had a small kitchen area where coffee and snacks were available, for those who didn’t want to go all the way down to the cafeteria. Or, part of you considered, for those who stayed late enough that the cafeteria would be closed. You thought of Chan, the way the other staff members warned you to keep an eye on him.

‘He’s a workaholic,’ One translator had mentioned in passing. ‘It’s admirable, if not a little stupid.’

Thinking of the alpha made your chest ache.

It felt almost fitting that the farther down the hall you went, in the opposite direction from the recording studios and instead towards a series of locked and labeled doors, when you realized where exactly the scent was leading you. Nearly at the end of the hall, you found a door labeled ‘3racha’.

The door was closed, but the scent told you there was someone inside.

You felt most of your anger dissipating.

On the one hand, you found yourself almost relieved. If there was anybody that you had gotten to know in this past week that you would trust with a distressed omega, it was Chan. He had 2 omegas on his team. He was a comforting figure. And above all else, he was a good man. You trusted him to have the situation handled, and to provide the compassion necessary for the situation.

But on the other hand, your omega refused to leave without making sure that the other was okay. It was survival mentality, the need to stick together, especially in a world like this that would so easily shove the weak and underappreciated away.

But checking in on the other omega would mean having to confront Chan, and you weren’t ready to have to deal with him just yet. You couldn’t look him in the eye without your omega’s want bubbling up, and this close to the surface, you wouldn’t be able to suppress it.

You didn’t really get to make your decision before the door opened, and you startled, legs tensing as you considered running.

A young girl who couldn’t be older than 15 nearly smacked right into you, and she quickly raised her wide-eyed gaze to meet with your own, mouth opening in shock and her scent hitting you with a burst of surprise. Strawberries and milk, sweet and pleasant despite the worry that it conveyed.

“Oh, I- Sorry!” She bowed so low that her hair flipped over her head, the strands hitting you in the face. And then she realized what had happened, lifting her head up with a gasp. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to- are you okay?”

You raised your hands to show her you meant no harm.

“Hey, it’s okay, no need to apologize.” You eyed her tear-stained cheeks. “Are you okay?”

She dropped her gaze. “I’m fine. Thank you.”

You wanted to pull her into a hug. You had to remind yourself she didn’t know you, and that would be weird.

‘It wouldn’t be weird if she knew you were an omega’ your own omega grumbled in your head.

You ignored them.

“You should go home, Jisoo. Your parents will get worried,” A voice said from behind the girl, and your eyes snapped up. “Don’t worry about today. Everything will be okay.”

“Thank you, Oppa.” Jisoo gave you a weary look, but bowed to you nonetheless. “Have a nice day, Unnie.”

“Get home safe,” You answered back, and her shoulders relaxed slightly.

You both watched Jisoo make her way down the hall, the newly presented omega now calmer and safe. Your omega settled at the confirmation, and you felt your energy level drop, prompting you to press your hand against your forehead and close your eyes to let out a huge sigh.

“You know, I think you’re the last person I expected to find on this floor,” Changbin mused.

When you opened your eyes, you saw the beta watching you with a curious look, and you winced. Now that you had calmed down and everything was okay, you realized your behavior might have seemed erratic and confusing to anyone who wasn’t aware of your true presentation. Which Changbin was not.

You suddenly wished that it had been Chan inside the studio instead.

“There was a distressed scent in the elevators, and I … was worried,” You explained, trying to make yourself sound nonchalant. “I just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

He pushed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, eyes drifting from your figure to the wall behind you. “Well, it’s a pretty shitty situation, I can’t lie.”

“I heard the company isn’t allowing omega trainee’s anymore.”

“Yeah, they made the decision last year.” Changbin shook his head. “She’s devastated. I calmed her down, told her I would try to figure something out, but ….”

He trailed off, a frown pulling at his mouth. You couldn’t smell him, his sweater doing a good job of hiding most of his scent from you, but you could tell just by his body language that he was angry. You felt a sense of reassurance at that.

Maybe Chan wasn’t the only best option for this situation.

“Are you two close?” You wondered, thinking about the direct path Jisoo had made from the practice rooms. “She headed straight here once she realized what was going on.”

“Were not particularly close, but Chan has told the trainees multiple times that if they ever need anything, they can come to us for help. I just happened to be the one here today.”

You nodded. “They look up to you guys, don’t they?”

“I think all trainee’s look up to idols,” Changbin said, running his hand through his hair. “I kind of wish Chan had been here instead. Or maybe even Jisung. I’m not sure how much I helped her.”

“I think you did a good job. She didn’t smell distressed anymore,” You reassured him.

Changbin’s eyebrows twitched down for a second, even as he nodded. “Yeah, I guess.”

You both stood there in silence for a few seconds. Eventually, you sighed again.

“Well, I guess I should get going. Umm, I guess have a good weekend,” You said.

“You too.”

When you got to the end of the hall, right before turning the corner, you glanced back. Changbin was still standing at the doorway, watching you with a thoughtful look on his face.

-0-0-

Maya’s girlfriend, Isa, was an amazing cook, and judging by the gleeful look on her face as everyone practically devoured the food, you had a feeling she knew. You practically moaned the moment you took your first bite. A beta you assumed was one of her friends melted in his seat, and then jokingly asked Isa for her hand in marriage.

“You’ll have to fight me for it,” Maya joked.

“Don’t tempt me.”

You giggled, and Isa leaned over her side of the table to smile at you. “How’s the food?”

“I’m normally not the type of person to encourage the birthday girl cooking her own meals, but hot damn. I can see why they put you in charge of the cooking,” You praised.

Isa beamed. “Exactly! That, and Maya burns water.”

“It was one time!”

The rest of the table laughed loudly, and Maya rolled her eyes. The other guests began to converse between themselves, and Isa eyed you with a small smile.

“So, you’re the new translator,” She began, and you paused with your fork an inch from your mouth. You nodded. “How’s it going? Maya tells me you joined at an inconvenient time, what with the tour starting up soon.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Oh? She told you about that?”

“I’m her girlfriend, she tells me everything,” Isa said nonchalantly.

“Everything?”

Isa grinned, leaning closer. “Everything. Maya’s nice and quiet and gets her job done, so sometimes people are very loose lipped when around her. You’d be surprised by the amount of drama that goes on in that fancy building of yours that nobody every hears about.”

“Oh? Like what”

She simply winked. “I’ll tell you later.”

Later turned out to be while you were washing dishes, a task you decided to take up to get away from the room full of alpha pheromones. You knew they weren’t doing it on purpose, since they were under the impression you were a beta and had no way of knowing about your sensitive omega nose, but it was still enough for you to get overwhelmed.

Isa eyed the kitchen door where Maya was with the other guests, and then she was leaning in close to you as she passed by. “Two of the stylists are hooking up.”

“What?!” You nearly dropped the plate you were holding.

“JYP tried to get one of his nephews into the company, but he bombed his audition so badly that he couldn’t even use nepotism to save it.”

You let out a sharp noise of surprise. “Oh my god, Maya really does tell you everything.”

“Yup.” Isa smirked. “Want to hear more?”

“I’m not sure I should,” you protested, but after a moment of her just staring at you knowingly, you broke out into a smile. “Oh, who am I kidding. Tell me everything!”

“Well, I’m not quite sure about this one, because it’s more recent, but apparently one of the idols is having a lovers spat with another one of his members.”

You blinked in surprise. “That’s definitely news to me.”

“Yeah. She was complaining about how the recent photoshoot had to be delayed an extra hour because Felix refused to be in the same room as Chan.”

“Wait, Felix and Chan are the ones fighting?”

Isa paused. “Oh, yeah. I forgot you were working with them. Don’t let Maya know I told you anything, it’s supposed to be kept hush hush.”

“Right. I won’t say anything,” You promised.

-0-0-

“Why are you and Felix fighting?”

The words were out of your mouth before you could stop them. In your defense, you would have said anything in that moment, if just to end the awkward silence that had fallen over you and Chan when the two of you found yourselves alone in the meeting room.

You hadn’t intended to be alone with him. You weren’t even supposed to be in the meeting room in the first place. You had been passing by after dropping off some papers that Jeonhui had asked for, and just happened to almost get hit by a door as it opened, with Felix storming out. You both paused and stared at each other for a second in surprise.

“Oh, hey.”

Your eyes darted towards the open door, where you could see a dejected Chan standing with his hands on his hips. “Hey.”

Felix gave you a strained smile as he passed you by, and you watched him go for a second before you entered the meeting room yourself. Chan only lifted his head a fraction as you walked in. You closed the door behind you, and the two of you lingered in that awkward silence before you finally decided to break it in the most stupid way possible. You knew the question was out of line the second it was out of your mouth.

Why had you even walked into the room to begin with? Why hadn’t you just walked away?

Chan finally lifted his head completely, and you froze at the sight of his eyes.

They were red.

“Shit.“

Your hand reached blindly behind you for the door handle, but before you could grab it Chan was suddenly at your side, hand gripping your wrist tightly. Your breath caught in your throat, the sudden bitter scent of his alpha hitting you in the face.

He swallowed hard. “Don’t go.”

“I don’t think I should even be here,” You admitted, but you allowed him to pull your arm back in front of you anyways. “Chan, your alpha-“

“I know,” He whispered, closing his eyes. “It’s okay, I’m not … I can’t stand watching another omega walk away from me right now. Just … stay.”

With his alpha so close to the surface, you found it hard to refuse. While you could have just stood there, allowing him a moment to come down from his headspace on his own, there was something so painful about watching Chan battle with his own emotions and instincts. It was an impulsive decision, much like the choice to walk into the meeting room, much like the need to say something.

You grabbed his hand, the same one still holding you, and brought it up to your lips. With a soft kiss to the inside of his wrist, Chan let out a shudder, and he easily allowed you to pull him closer until his face was pressed against your neck.

While your omega scent was still covered with the artificial scent of beta, it would have to do. You softly allowed him to scent you, and it only took a few minutes before Chan came back to himself with a sharp inhale.

He pulled away from you so quickly he stumbled on his feet. “Shit, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” You reassured him, licking your lips. “You needed some grounding.”

“Fuck.” He ran his hand down his face.

You gave him a sympathetic smile. “That bad, huh?”

“Felix is really mad this time. I think I fucked up,” He said.

“Mind me asking what happened?” Chan was silent, and you took a hint. “Right, none of my business then.”

“No, it’s definitely your business.”

You paused from where you had started to turn back to the door. “Sorry?”

“Felix is mad because of the omega I slept with last week. You.”

“What?”

“He wants to meet you.”

“What?”

Chan let out a sigh, and he pulled out a chair to sit down. After a moment of consideration, he offered one of the chairs for you, and you were quick to take it since it felt like your legs were seconds away from giving out on you. The more he talked, the more dizzy you felt.

“Explain,” You said, staring Chan down.

“Felix knows I slept with an omega last week. I let it slip that I was still in contact with you, accidentally, and now he thinks that I might be having a serious relationship with you- well, the omega. He wants to meet you, and when I told him he couldn’t, he got upset. He thinks that … he thinks I might be trying to replace him.”

“That’s ridiculous,” You said with a scowl.

“I know. I thought it was just a petty little argument, but he … I think he actually believes it. He got so upset, yelled that me not wanting him to meet the other omega was suspicious and that if it wasn’t serious I would have just said that, and I obviously can’t explain it-“

“Because of me.”

“Because it’s complicated,” Chan corrected, rubbing his face again. “This isn’t on you, sweetheart. This is my problem.”

You scoffed. “Are you kidding me? Your omega is mad at you because of me, Chan. He thinks you’re replacing him with me. And if you told him the truth, none of this would be an issue.”

“If he thought it was just a one-night stand, then this wouldn’t be a problem anyways. I’m the one who fucked up here,” Chan argued.

“Why would he even think it was more than that anyways?” You wondered.

Chan froze.

You found yourself letting out a small laugh as he just stared at you with wide eyes, not wanting to believe the first thought that ran through your head. But the second thought, and then the third, all felt less convincing. Your smile dropped pretty quickly.

“Chan. Why would Felix think it was more than a one-night stand?”

He ran his fingers through his hair, then down his face, and then he shot to his feet to turn away from you completely. You shook your head in disbelief.

“You can’t be serious,” You breathed.

“This was before I knew you were a part of the company. I told him the morning after, before the meeting, and I obviously didn’t have the chance to explain what happened.”

“Jesus, Chan! You were planning on courting me?”

“Yes, I was.”

“Fuck.” You slumped back in your seat. “Why didn’t you just tell him I rejected you or something?”

“He would know I was lying. I wouldn’t have had time to ‘meet up’ with you this past week because we’ve been busy, and if he thought I did after he asked to meet you, he would have been even more pissed at me for ignoring him.” Chan explained. “It’s just … I thought I’d have time to come up with something, but it’s been a very stressful week.”

“Fuck,” you repeated.

Chan turned back around, giving you a tired look. “Yeah, fuck.”

He shook his head, and with his hands on his hips, he began to pace the length of the meeting room. You glanced a look at the clock and realized that you needed to get back to your desk before someone noticed how long you had been gone. You needed to finish your work for the day. You needed to leave the room and hope that nobody caught you here with Chan. What you needed to do was clear.

But you couldn’t think about any of that. You could only think about the strained smile on Felix’s face as he passed you by, the havoc that Chan had to have gone through for his alpha to take over, the fact that their relationship was being strained because of you. You closed your eyes, but you could still hear the footsteps as Chan paced.

“Tell him.”

The footsteps paused, and you opened your eyes to give Chan an even look.

He didn’t turn around. “What was that?”

“Felix,” You clarified, letting out a soft sigh. “Tell him the truth.”

Chan spun around with wide eyes. “Are you serious?”

“I’m not letting your pack relationships fall apart because of my choices.”

“You don’t have to do this.”

You tilted your head to the side. “Do you trust Felix?”

“With my life,” he said with no hesitation.

“Then so do I.”

The two of you stared each other down. Your head still felt fuzzy, but your chest no longer felt like there was a weight holding you down. You pulled yourself up from the seat, and only took a second to gain your composure.

You gave him a nod. “Well, I got to get back to work. I’ll see you later.”

“Wait, that’s it?”

You didn’t bother answering him, instead making your way towards the elevators with an urgency that only grew the further you got from him. The dizziness had gone away, and as the reality of the situation started to dawn on you, so did your clarity. Being that close to Chan, letting him scent you with his alpha so close to the surface, had been a terrible decision. Your body felt hot, and you were grateful for your scent blockers.

Today was chalking up to be a horrible day.

You were going into pre-heat.

[sigmasemen]

YOUR BEAUTY IS SIMPLE.

chigiri hyoma x reader tags: fluff, gossiping, girl talk, cutesy relationships, flustered reader, established relationship, short.

taglist: n/a currently.

characters: chigiri hyoma, hyoma’s sister, reader, (non romantic) mentions of isagi yoichi, chris prince, reo mikage, nagi seishiro, rensuke kunigami, meguru bachira.

word count: 625

extra: FINAL REPOST FROM A TWITTER THREAD. technically i’m also gonna make a kaiser one but that isn’t posted yet!! wish this was longer but im lazy + i get to post the rest of my fics soon since i’ll have enough backlogged !!

many people assume that when you started dating chigiri, he would automatically care for your skincare and routine constantly. everyone assumed he would be making sure you’re taken care of always.

it was… partially true.

sure, he did care about taking care of you. he’d comb his fingers through your hair slowly before you two fell asleep. he would brush your hair and help you out of bed in the mornings you weren’t feeling the best.

it wasn’t as major as people made it out to be. it wasn’t constant. he did it when you two were both open.

what was becoming a constant was his big sister doing your nails every weekend. you’d come over an hour early for chigiri, then get stopped by her when she saw you walk in. 

the conversations ranged from your day, to a childhood memory, to her skin care routine, it just mattered on how you two were feeling. but on this day, the conversation had trailed off into chigiri.

since he had been away from his sister for a while because of soccer, you were there to give her all the updates.

“oh! and he made friends with this guy named yoichi isagi.”

“oh… the black haired undercut? i see why! he’s so, so sweet, isn’t he?” her shrill voice made you briefly stiffen.

“he’s very sweet! they get along well, along with reo, nagi, bachira, kunigami, the… british coach guy? hyoma has had an easier time making friends with people.”

“maybe manipulating teenagers into thinking they have to only care about themselves makes them clingy towards people with very similar experiences?”

it seemed about right… “why are you thinking about it like that?”

“i’m just happy my brother doesn’t only have some freaky guys talking about ego in his ear… that facility annoyed me,” she brushed her fingers against your collarbone, “besides, he’s always talking about you.”

you knew she saw your little twitch as her lips curved into a smile, “mhm, always. it’s like all he thinks about is you!”

you didn’t care, you don’t care, it doesn’t matter, it isn’t important, why would it matter? “what does he say?” fuck.

“oh… y’know,” she was dragging this out, “he mentioned that he wanted to take you on a date this friday. like a little surprise. he had a rose and everything on order…”

“oh! yeah… cool.” 

…

it was impossible to remain casual. “what else?”

the words of his sister continued to fuel your ego more and more. it shouldn’t have made your heart feel this warm for your cold-hearted princess of a boyfriend to be secretly saying this cute stuff about you, but it did. it made you want to burst out into tears and run into his arms.

the entire time she spoke, your leg bounced as a tick to show joy. your hands fooled around with each other as a mechanism to calm down. it wasn’t that these worked, but it was worth a shot.

“then he grabbed a bonsai plant, which he said he hated, and wanted to give you it because it reminded him of you! he carried it around the entire store and—”

the click of a lock shot both of your head straight to the door. chigiri. you swung your body to be facing the window instead of him. though you couldn’t see it, a light was pulled from his eyes briefly.

“hm. how are you two?”

you willingly ignored the conversation you had been having previously in a feeble attempt to suppress your feelings. you were just focused on calming that blush on your face. the stupid blush your boyfriend didn’t even know he caused… you hoped to give him the same sort of embarrassment one day.

[rosielovesf1]

lucky 🍀 | AA23

alex debuts an... interesting... new hair for race weekend, and y/n is to blame after a little too much to drink

word count: 1.5k

warnings: none!

author's note: MY WRITER'S BLOCK IS CURED WOOHOO SO NOW TWO POSTS IN ONE NIGHT!!!! this season seems to be the anything can happen type, so i am crossing my fingers and toes to see alex on the podium at some point. anyway, this was literally so fun to write i hope you enjoy :))

“alright kids, you’re home.” george russell did not imagine this would be his friday night when he had left his home a long six hours earlier. if he’d known that he would be assigned the role of babysitter for his former teammate and his girlfriend, he maybe would’ve stayed home. or at least worn shoes that he liked a little less, as his favorite trainers were currently sporting a new, puce green stain. 

“thank youuuu, george,” y/n slurred, her eyes hazy and unfocused. her boyfriend didn’t look any better, practically putting all of his weight on poor y/n. she didn’t seem to mind though, one hand braced against the couch for balance, one hand wrapped around his waist to keep him upright. 

if only the world could see the wholesome “parents of the paddock” now, george thought. satisfied they were safe and taken care of, he shut the front door quietly behind him, grinning as he made his way to carmen who sat in the passenger seat of his car. now that y/n and alex were home, they’d likely sleep it off and stay out of trouble. right?

well… not quite. 

as george pulled out of the driveway, inside, alex and y/n had managed to remember that couches could be sat on, not just leaned up against. they collapsed onto the soft cushions, alex sighing contently as he pulled y/n to sit between his legs. she cuddled into his chest, craving warmth after what had been a very cold night out in a very tiny dress. 

just as y/n was starting to fall asleep, alex started to shift underneath her. she groaned and just wrapped her arms around him tighter. 

“love, i’m so thirsty.” 

y/n shook her head, trying to get back to the drowsy state she’d just left. “too comfy.” 

he poked her arm in response, and she ignored it best she could until it was unbearable. 

“stop it!”

“i need water,” he moaned dramatically, starting to unwrap his arms from around her.

“i’m thirsty too, but i’m being nice and not moving.” 

“you’re not being nice, you’re being lazyyy.” he drew out the last letter, and she turned her head only to stick out her tongue at him. 

“fine. i’ll take you with me.” y/n didn’t mind what he did, as long as she didn’t have to walk or do anything other than shut her eyes tight against the blurriness that came with a few (okay, a lot) too many shots of vodka. alex pushed himself off the couch, and y/n wrapped her limbs around him tightly until he safely deposited her to sit on the kitchen counter. 

there was the sound of the cabinet door opening and closing, and the gurgle of the tap broke through the otherwise silent apartment. 

“i can hear you gulping.” y/n said, eyes still squeezed shut. “share please.” 

the three glasses of water each they downed helped somewhat- y/n’s stomach had settled and her head was spinning less, but now she just had the lack of inhibition and craving for spontaneity that alcohol fostered. 

from her perch on the counter, she could sit with her legs wrapped around alex’s torso, his head relaxing back into her chest as he stood with his back to her. she ran her fingers gently through his hair, smiling as an idea formed. 

“when’s the last time you dyed your hair, love?”

“mmm. it’s been a while. last year, maybe?”

y/n felt a rush of excitement, but tread carefully to avoid spooking her poor unsuspecting boyfriend. 

“what if you let me dye it?” 

his posture became a little less relaxed, a little more alert. uh oh. say yes. she chanted silently in her head. say yes, say yes, say yes. 

“have you ever dyed hair before?” not a full yes, but this was good. it wasn’t a no. there was still a possibility. 

“i did rina’s hair just last month.” sure, your sister changed her hair so often that she had simply laughed at your botched dye job, rocking the streaky blue until she was able to get into a proper salon the next week. but experience was experience. he hadn’t asked about the outcome. 

“okay.”

“okay?” you squealed and planted a kiss on his cheek, wrapping your arms underneath his chin and resting your head on top of his. he just laughed, relaxing even more into your embrace if that was even possible. 

“alright, come on, i think i have dye under the sink.” 

“wait, now? i was thinking next week after the race, love.” but you didn’t want to wait that long, you wanted to do something fun now, while the world looked a little brighter than usual and you could practically feel the blood pumping through your veins. you decided to test your luck and hopped down from the counter, pulling him along towards the small hall bathroom, grinning when he just followed along. 

alex sat down on the toilet lid while you rummaged through the messy sink cabinet, finally finding what you’d desperately hoped was still there in the back corner- bleach, and the remnants of a dye kit you’d bought when your sister had encouraged you to try red hair (spoiler alert, it was a very bad idea). there definitely wouldn’t be enough red dye to do alex’s entire head though, and you frowned as you tried to work out a solution. 

suddenly, the perfect idea struck. after mixing the dyes, you happily got to work. alex was content to just relax into the pressure of your fingers in his hair, and before you knew it, your masterpiece was complete. after a quick rinse, and a change into comfier, cleaner clothes for both of you, you fell into bed. there was only time for a quick goodnight kiss, and by the time your head hit the pillow, you had practically already fallen into a deep sleep. 

which is why, when you woke up the next morning, cursing the bright sunlight of the gorgeous fall morning, the previous night wasn’t totally clear at first. you cringed at the memory of puking into the dirty club bathroom, but there was nothing hideously embarrassing up until george bringing you and alex home. however, at the thought of what your drunken brain had thought was a good idea once the two of you were left to your own devices, you shot up in bed, staring in horror at the sleeping boy next to you. 

alex’s hair. dear god. you couldn’t help the gasp that escaped your lips, and then cursed yourself as all the movement and noise had alex stirring in bed. he smiled up at you with sleepy eyes, getting halfway through “good morning” before clocking your expression. 

“what?” he sat up in bed, sheets sliding down as his worry increased. “y/n, what’s wrong?” 

“alex, love, i’m so sorry.” it was all you could do but apologize, and alex looked confused until he spotted himself in the mirror hanging to the right of your bed. 

his jaw dropped as he turned his head left and right. you just winced, apologizing over and over. but you stopped mid sentence when his look of shock turned into a grin, and then a full blown, stomach-hurting laugh. he dropped his head into his hands, shoulders shaking. 

you couldn’t help it- that type of laugh was infectious. 

“i’m so sorry, love,” you groaned between giggles, leaning into alex’s shoulder. “i don’t know what i was thinking.” 

it took him a couple seconds to get back the breath to reply, but when he did it was clear that there was nothing but amusement in the situation. 

“don’t be sorry, y/n,” he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and squeezed tight. “i’m surprised we didn’t do worse with how plastered we were last night.” 

“remind me that shots are very, very bad the next time we go out, please.” the dull throb in her temples was her body’s way of agreeing with that statement. in a serious tone, she looked up at him, determined to fix the situation. “i’ll find you an appointment at a salon before the race, i promise.” 

“are you kidding?” he turned to look at himself again in the mirror, running a hand over his hair. “i’m definitely going to get bullied by the grid, but this can only be good luck.” 

and despite your protests and offers to fix it, he remains resolute in having the absolutely horrid dye job for the entirety of the race weekend. and when he manages to achieve the practically impossible- a podium in a williams- after crediting the team’s immense efforts, it isn’t his stellar driving that he wants to discuss in post-race interviews. no, he attributes his success to his new hair, which he makes sure to emphasize was done by his lovely girlfriend. 

even though your drunken mistake is now a very popular topic of conversation in the f1 world, you can’t help but feel any emotion besides all-consuming pride.

@alex_albon: best weekend ever. biggest thanks to the team, and my new barber @ y/n-l/n for the lucky hair

@y/n-l/n: HE DID IT!!!!!!!! endlessly proud of you AA23 <3

[sunflowervoltwentyeight]

Happy 28th! Here is my June 2024 fic rec, organized by word count, from longest to shortest. You can view my other fic recs here. Enjoy!

Oxford AU Series by stylinsoncity / @aliensingucci (130k)

Come As You Are  (77k) “I think it could be like this all the time,” Harry says. “I know it doesn’t make sense but I think you should consider it. I could make you happy if you let me.”  louis is a professor of literature at oxford and harry is his newest and most eager protege. both are caught in a story about forbidden love, loss and second chances, in which one is on the brink of heartbreak and the other comes along when he's needed most. Overwhelmingly You (47k) more reflections post-oxford. Notes on Oxford (5k) glimpses at life before, during and beyond oxford, in no particular order

Satellite by suspendrs / @suspendrs (100k)

“It’s been three years since I’ve had a proper hot meal,” Louis says finally. “I have no idea where my family is, or if any of them are even still alive. The only reason I’ve been able to keep myself alive for as long as I have is because I keep to myself, stay guarded, stay hidden. It’s the only way I know how to live,” he says.

Harry wants to cry, but he tries to put on a brave face when Louis finally meets his eyes. “You’re safe here. You don’t have to be so guarded around me,” Harry says quietly, earnestly.

 “That’s very sweet of you,” Louis says, putting his fork down. “But yes I do. Especially around you.”

Or, Louis needs a house. Harry offers him a home.

Just Pretend by kingsofeverything / @kingsofeverything (90k)

Louis Tomlinson is a divorced dad who doesn't date. What free time he has, he likes to spend with his teenage daughter, and if he wants to take someone home, he does it when she's spending the weekend with her mom.

Then he meets Harry Styles, another divorced dad with a teenage daughter, who convinces him it’s a good idea to pretend they're dating to keep their kids happy.

Into The Midnight Sun by summerwine @smrwine (63k)

Every day without Louis was a never ending blue Monday. Every day went without his sweetness and warmth and the radiant colours of his flame. The tenor of his voice became unfamiliar and muddled between going so long without the sound of it and getting lost with every other voice clouding Harry’s memory.But he was here now, warming Harry’s bones with lips like summer. Every moment in his arms felt like a Sunday stroll through London. Beautiful and stormy and feeling every bit like home. or, It's 1983, Harry embarks on his first world tour and Louis is a budding actor in LA. Life spent apart isn't easily adjustable, but somehow they make it work.

Everything of Mine Is Yours by blueskiesrry / @blueskiesrry (33k)

"Did you two have a good time?”

Harry in his bathroom, brushing his teeth with frizzy hair and tired eyes. Harry on the couch cuddled up with Posy, cradling her in the crook of his elbow, humming a soft song. Harry laughing with his friends in a pub on a Friday night, a flower field in his eyes. Harry in his bed tucked under the covers, naked against fresh sheets like a shock of moonlight cutting through a storm.

“Yeah,” he says. “We did.”

or: With Harry in New York finishing up his PhD and Louis in London working as a solicitor, they try to navigate their eight year situationship including almost-daily phone calls, the occasional indulgence of casual phone sex, and endless gossip sessions as the feelings they have for each other get harder to ignore.

Changing Weather (For Worse or For Better) by haztobegood / @haztobegood (3k)

Five times it's raining and one time it stops.

Spoon Time by shiptattou / @wecantalktomorrow (2k)

There was nothing going on between them outside of the normal bro-pal-laddy-dude things every other set of best friends did. All sets of best friends did things like this. You know, hanging out every day, staying up late, and chatting until the wee hours which usually ended up as a sleepover and bed-sharing. There is nothing going on between them.

That is what Harry was going to keep telling himself and everyone around them, anyway because it is the truth, after all.

[tortoisebore]

more than enough (aka hey, sharpshooter sequel) sneak peek 🤲

since i'm not posting any of this until it's all written and i have absolutely no idea when that will be, i wanted to give u all the first 1,700ish words of the first chapter of part 2 to hold us all over <3

Sirius was in a surprisingly good mood. 

He really shouldn’t be, all things considered. New York was at the tail end of a sweltering heat wave, for one—hot, humid August air rippled in wavy mirages off the streets, and the tiny window unit in his apartment didn’t do shit against the evening sun, and the bridge of his nose was still pink from a particularly long afternoon walk around Central Park last weekend, but nevertheless, he was in a very, very good mood. Maybe it was good karma finally coming back around, or the universe had woken up one morning and decided it was done fucking with him. After the shit show that had been his last semester of college—the entire eight months since January, really—he figured he deserved it. 

“Iced Americano for Sirius!”

He darted through the sullen little crowd assembled around the pickup counter as the barista slid his drink forward in a plastic to-go cup. He popped on a lid and grabbed a paper straw with practiced speed, maneuvered his way back to the entrance and called out a quick “thanks” as he threw his shoulder into the door and raced off in the direction of the museum. 

After graduation, he’d wormed his way into an internship at a modest little contemporary art museum tucked away on a shady street in the West Village. The pay was shit and the busy work was worse, but he’d been offered a full time apprenticeship after the intern contract expired, and since he wasn’t exactly in a position to be turning down jobs in the industry, he’d enthusiastically accepted. It would be a great first gig, if nothing else—he’d be working under a mid-level curator, sourcing pieces, filing paperwork, and arguing with estates over pricing and displays and whose name would be biggest on the programs. It wasn’t glamorous by any means, but it was real, and it would get his foot in the door of the curation world, and that’s what mattered. 

To close out the summer, the museum had been hosting guest seminars all week for the dozen or so interns on staff. Most were at least mildly interesting, but it was Friday, and Sirius had quite magnificent plans for the weekend, so he was putting a hell of a lot of faith in this singular iced Americano to pull him through the next two hours of the last seminar.

His usual coffee shop around the corner was rarely busy, but today he’d gotten stuck behind a group of suits each ordering individual lattes and ended up cutting it a bit closer on time than he'd have liked. He skipped up the flight of stone steps at the front of the museum and checked his phone—he had four entire minutes to spare, thank god—and was just about to tuck it back away when it began vibrating in his hand.

He glanced at it again, gave a happy little hum and threw open the lobby door as he answered.

“Oh, hello.” 

Remus gave a quiet little laugh on the other line, and oh, wasn’t that the most perfect little addition to an already especially wonderful afternoon? “Oh, hi,” he echoed. “You sound chipper.”

“Why, of course I do. It’s Friday afternoon and I have an ice cold coffee in my hand, Remus. The world is blossoming before my very eyes.” 

“Wow. Good day?” 

“Very. Yours?”

“Not a single complaint.”

Sirius hummed fondly. He slowed to a stop in the hallway outside the theater room, turning towards the wall so he wouldn’t be caught grinning to himself. “Are we turning into optimists?” 

Remus tutted. “God, I really hope not.”

Sirius bit back a smile, tapped the toe of his shoe against the marble baseboards and pulled his phone away from his ear just enough to check the time. “I truly do hate to cut this short, but you’ve got about two and a half minutes before I’m supposed to be in this seminar.”

He heard shuffling on the other line, a muffled curse, and then Remus’ voice came from further away. “Shit—it’s already three?” 

“Mhm,” he hummed around his straw. “Don’t tell me you’re about to be late to class, you heathen.”

“I forgot to set an alarm,” Remus huffed. “I keep severely underestimating how much time it’s going to take me to get through these global rhetoric readings.”

Sirius grimaced. “Hey, one more week, and then it’s goodbye, global rhetoric forever.”

“If the final doesn’t kill me first.”

“You’ll do great, you big old nerd,” Sirius chided. “I’ll help you study this weekend if you want. Run some flash cards, try some interrogation-style quizzing…”

“Interrogation style?” Remus repeated amusedly, his voice closer to the phone again.

“I’m thinking a good old-fashioned flashlight to the forehead might do the trick.”

“Depending on how the review goes today, I might just take you up on that.”

Sirius glanced behind him as a couple of the other interns wandered into the theater room, checking the time again to be safe. “You’re coming to me tonight, right?” 

“Yeah, I’ll be over after class,” Remus replied. Sirius heard some shuffling, then keys jingling in the background. “That’s actually why I wanted to try and catch you before your seminar—do you have anything to make at home or do you want me to grab something on the way?”

“Oh, my hero,” Sirius gushed. “Yes, please grab something—get whatever you want. I don’t care as long as I don’t have to attempt to cook anything.”

“Hey, you did really good with dinner last week,” Remus offered kindly. “I went back for seconds, remember?”

Sirius hummed a flat note. “You’re biased, darling. Your opinion can’t be trusted.” 

“I’d tell you if it was bad.”

“I really, really don’t think you would.” 

Remus hesitated. “I mean…well. Maybe not. But I definitely wouldn’t have gone back for seconds if it was that bad.”

“Well, it’s your turn next, and I’m expecting opulence after last time, Lupin. I want nothing short of fine dining.” 

“Oh, god,” Remus tutted. “I really should have done something easy and kept your expectations low.” 

“At this rate you’ll be a full fledged chef by Christmas.”

“Well, tonight you’re getting something cheap and most likely dumped out of a paper box. No opulence allowed on a Friday.”

“Deal,” Sirius smiled. He snuck another look into the theater room, spotted a deck of slides thrown up on the projector, and sighed reluctantly. “I have to get in there in the next twenty seconds.”

“Okay,” Remus sighed back. Sirius heard a door shut and lock and imagined he was leaving his apartment for class. “I’ll text you when I leave school.”

“Can’t wait.”

“Have fun,” Remus smiled. “Love you.”

Sirius’ stomach fluttered. He couldn’t believe it was still doing that, all these months later, but it was a surprisingly frequent occurrence these days. 

“Love you, too.”

He allowed himself five seconds to goon grin down at his phone after hanging up, to admire the newest in a lovely series of photos of the two of them he’d chosen for this week’s lock screen, and then turned on his heel and slipped into the theater room just as his supervisor began introducing the guest.

His usual seat in the second-to-last row was taken, so Sirius slid into one in the back with only a half-hearted little huff. If it were last month—last week, even—he might have put up a bit more of a fuss about losing his unassigned-assigned seat to a rando from the marketing team, but not today. No; today was Friday, Remus was bringing home something greasy and delicious for dinner, and Sirius couldn’t be bothered to be anything but ecstatic for the weekend. He took several long sips of his coffee when the slides at the front of the room flipped to a rundown of the talk—digital curatorial practices in contemporary media landscapes, how very tantalizing for a Friday afternoon—and settled in with a goal to stay at least a little awake for the next two hours.

The speaker—a short, middle-aged man with a vaguely northeastern accent—took off on his introduction, and something about the monotone drone of his voice sent Sirius drifting off into his thoughts nearly instantly. He fiddled with a chip on the back of his phone case for a moment before giving in and flipping it over. The photo from the weekend before waiting on the lock screen really was particularly swoon-worthy; what had started out as a double date picnic in Central Park with James and Lily had turned into an hours-long stroll around the reservoir that left Sirius and Lily sunburnt, James with an infuriatingly perfect tan, and Remus with about a hundred more freckles than he’d started the day with. The four of them had eventually parked it beneath the shade of a line of trees, sprawling out on the thin, brightly-colored woven blankets Lily had brought and savoring the warmth of the late evening sun. Sirius had been feeling especially fond, what with the smattering of new freckles dotted along the bridge of Remus’ nose, and the golden light of the sunset was practically glowing on his skin, so he’d tossed his phone to Lily and demanded she take a new photo for his lock screen. 

The impromptu little shoot had produced several pictures that Sirius loved—one of the adorable, disgruntled scrunch of Remus’ nose as Sirius coaxed him up from his lounging on the grass, another of him carefully pulling Sirius’ sunglasses off and perching them on the top of his head, and this one, his favorite, of himself raised on his knees, pressed up against Remus’ back with his arms thrown around his shoulders, pressing a smiley kiss to his cheekbone. Sirius studied the photo and recalled the warmth of Remus’ skin, the surprised, breathy little laugh he’d let loose and the feel of his hand slipping around the back of Sirius’ neck, tugging him forward and craning his head back to press one, then two quick kisses to his lips. 

A series of bright, fluttery feelings took off on a twirl somewhere beneath his ribs, pulsed warm and sugar sweet under his skin and made him bite back a smile. Sirius took a long, contented breath in and savored it. 

Not so long ago, these quiet little moments of fondness were few and far between. However much he’d tried to convince himself otherwise at the time, Sirius had spent a good chunk of the spring with a heavy pit of anxiety in his stomach, entirely positive that his and Remus’ relationship was one more unresolved, petty fight and a couple of strained silences away from shattering for good. They’d started it off strong, but that last semester in Boston was hard in ways that neither of them were prepared for.

[channieskies]

EAT [LEE KNOW]

Pairing: Chef|Lee Know + AFAB|Reader

Genre: Smut, Drabble

Synopsis: After a successful cooking class, you book another night with the brilliant and handsome man that taught the class. Only to find out you booked the wrong Chef Lee.

A.N: Please reblog or leave a like or comment to let me know how you feel. I'd love a little feedback. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it. This was barely proofread, please disregard the mistakes.

Word Count: 3,000 + [~13 minute reading time]

Warnings: MINORS DNI! This post contains nsfw material. Please do not interact with it if you are under the age of 18. Do not translate or repost to other sites. NSFW warnings are under the cut.

Disclaimer: This story does not reflect the real lives or personalities of Stray Kids. I do not know them personally. This is purely a work of fiction.

Warnings⚠️: MINORS DNI! This post contains nsfw material. Please do not interact with it if you are under the age of 18. Do not translate or repost to other sites. Unprotected sex [please wrap it before you tap it. This is fiction, and I control the narrative. Real life is scary, so please be safe], creampie, oral (male and female receiving), anal play, food play (please let me know if I missed any)

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Being single sucked. Especially when it comes to eating meals. That being said, single and lazy just didn't mix well. You dreaded making meals for yourself, but your pockets told you needed to. So when your friend invited you to a cooking class with the world-renowned chef Lee, you were ecstatic. The class lasted about three hours from start to finish. There was wine and food, and chef Felix was one of the most beautiful men you'd ever laid eyes on. Well, at least in your opinion, he was. Your Saturday night was almost complete. Almost. Being single really, really sucked.

By the time you left, you were tipsy, full of good food, and a little wet from your interactions with the sexy deep voiced chef. He had such a pretty smile and beautiful freckles littering his face like stars. You were completely taken by him. The rest of your weekend seemed to fly by without a hitch. So, by Monday morning, you were ready to sign up for a private lesson with the chef. Your friend told you the company she went through for the lessons and the rest was history.

The next week seemed to creep by. It usually does when you are excited for something. By the time Friday came along, you couldn't wait to get out of work and get home, practically speeding on your way there. You got ready for your lesson, took a shower, and put on a date night outfit that you had stored away since you learned long ago that the dating pool was trash. You waited patiently for eight to roll around so you could see chef Felix again.

When the buzzer rang to let you know someone wanted to come up, you quickly rushed over and rang them up. You rubbed your nervous hands on your skirt as you waited for your bell to ring. When it finally did, you inhaled a quick breath before opening the door. With a wide smile on your face, you spoke, “Hi I'm Y/n-- wait- you aren't Felix.” The smile quickly slid off your face as you examined the young man in front of you.

He had soft brown hair, downturned pouty lips that resmbled a cat, and very hard to miss bunny teeth that you noticed as he smiled. He was taller than you , though you wouldn't say he was a giant, nowhere near it, really. He had on a gray sweater with cute little geometric patterns all over it and dark denim jeans. He had a large canvas bag full of groceries in one hand while the other gripped what seemed like an apron.

“Sorry to disappoint you.” He flashed you a mischievous smirk. You could tell something more was behind it. “I’m the head chef, Minho. Chef Lee Minho. Felix is my sous chef. He took over classes while I was away in France on business. I can't promise to offer the same experience since we are two totally different chefs, with different styles. But I promise to make it worth your while.” How could you say no to that? His dazzling smile was very convincing, and it's a part of the reason you let him in. you stepped back and widened the door a little more for him to come in.

“You have a beautiful home.” Minho complimented as he took a look around your downtown apartment. It had a rustic and industrial charm to it with its exposed brick and high ceilings. It was a nice apartment, especially considering you had gotten it for dirt cheap.

“Uh.. thanks.” You clapped your hands to draw his attention away from your bare walls - your apartment desperately needed decor. But you didn't have the time to do all of that. “Shall we get to cooking?” you asked and pointed to your nearly spotless kitchen. He followed you to it and put down his bag. You both washed your hands first, and he helped you with an apron that came free of charge when you purchased a class. Once you were prepped and ready, you got started.

It started off slow. He explained the menu and told you a little about his background. He was from Korea but studied in Japan before traveling to different Asian countries to learn different cuisines. He moved back to Korea and started training under Chef Baek Jong-won, one of the most renowned chefs in Korea. Then he became head chef at one of the oldest restaurants in Seoul before opening his own restaurant that now sits at one Michelin star. “So how about we start with green curry, then stir fried glass noodles with vegetables for an entree, and coconut custard filled donuts with a frosted pineapple drizzle for dessert?”

You honestly thought all that sounded a little complicated for someone who admitted to being lazy when it came to cooking, but it also all sounded incredibly delicious. “Sounds delicious.”

He was surprisingly easy to work with. He explained why he did the things he did and helped to customize them for everyday life. He stood to the side of you, his body touching your side ever so lightly as he guided your hand. You could feel his breath on your as he concentrated on the task at hand. You tried to swallow the thoughts that plagued your mind, like how good he smelled or how nice his hand felt on top of yours. your mind even dove as deep as your imagining his pretty face between your legs.

You let out a shaky moan as your mind slowly delved deeper into the abyss. “Are you okay?” He pulled away slightly to look over your face from the side.

“Y-yeah, it just smells so good.” He smiled and let out a sigh of relief, thinking that maybe he had made you uncomfortable by being too close. To make the atmosphere a little lighter, he asked if he could play a little music in the background. You agreed, hoping the music would help you take your mind off things. He synced his phone with your Bluetooth speakers, and Club boynnd's “naturally” softly started to flow from them.

He moved back to your side and reached for the spoon, his hand landing on top of yours once again. “Want to taste?” His voice sounded so smooth as he asked. Of course, you nodded, absentmindedly pressing your thighs together. He let you taste the chocolate you'd melted. He smeared the warm chocolate across your bottom lip, and your tongue almost instantly darted out to taste it. Your eyes met as you took your bottom lip into your mouth. You tasted the slightly sweet yet bitterly sticky substance on your tongue.

“It's delicious, chef.” It was like your eyes were locked in a battle, waiting to see who would cave for the other, first.

“May I taste it too?” You nodded, unsure of what move he was going to make. With the same spoon, he dipped it back into the chocolate, smearing it on your lips once again. He searched your eyes for affirmation, and you nodded.

It was like a switch went off. The next thing you knew, you were sitting on the counter, trapped between his strong veiny arms. His lips were on your, savoring the remnants of chocolate that resided on your lips. Your arms rested on his shoulders as your fingers found refuge in his soft hair.

Your tasks had soon been forgotten about as you passionately made out in your kitchen. The song switched to Kelela’s “Blue Light”, but neither of you could hear a thing at the moment. He pulled back and took your hand in his. He isolated your index finger, making it stand alone. He dipped that finger into the chocolate and put it into his mouth. He took it on, sucking every last bit off your finger. “Delicious.”

The way he looked at you as he said it made your womanhood ache with need. He pulled you down off the counter, turning you around, fingers moving up your back, signaling for you to bend over. He moved back briefly to turn off the burners on the stove. The last thing he wanted to do was burn down your kitchen. He was back behind you in no time, his pelvis pressing against your ass as he leaned forward. “I just wanted to let you know that I enjoy eating just as much as I enjoy cooking.” He let out a short, humorous, puff of air.

With that said, he pressed his lips to your slightly exposed neck, nipping that skin and leaving tiny marks. First, it was the apron, the strings untied, the fabric falling right to the floor. His fingers trailed under your shirt, pushing the fabric up. He wanted it off, and you took the hint, pulling the clothing up and off, tossing it on the floor. He trailed kisses down your back, letting his agile fingers work on removing your bra. The straps fell, but with your arms on the counter, the bra partially stayed in place. Next was your skirt, which he didn't bother unzipping.

He rolled your tight skirt down under your ass, relishing in the sight and his recent accomplishment. He licked his lips, his hands rolling over your skin. He tugged your panties and your skirt all the way down and crouched down behind your. “Wow..” You looked back to see what he was doing, only to feel his warm hand spreading your cheeks. “Fuck… I can't wait to taste you.” And that he did. He leaned in and bit your ass softly, not hard enough to leave a mark but hard enough to mark your gasp at his actions. His tongue traced the indents his teeth left before you pressed a chaste kiss to it. His breath was hot on your entrance as he moved his attention to your waiting pussy. “I guess someone is a little turned on.”

You chuckled lightly at his accusation. “Says the one who was all in my personal bubble. It's hard not to feel something when a man as sexy as yourself is that close.” You admitted not knowing what had come over your. Nothing was said on his end as he dug into his meal. He dipped his tongue into your entrance just to pull it back, a trail of your wetness following the pink muscle. He wanted to just taste your first. His tongue slipped back in his mouth, and he grunted.

“You taste amazing.” He went back for a second helping trailing his tongue from your clit all the way to your asshole and back again. you lived alone, there was no need for you to conceal the way he was making you feel. Your voice bounced off the open walls of your kitchen and living area, mingling with the music. He pulled away just before you came, much to your disappointment.

“Maybe I should make things a little sweeter. Turn around for me.” You almost questioned what he meant by that only to remember this was a kitchen, and he was a chef. This was his playground. He stood to his feet and grabbed the spoon for the chocolate, raking a hefty amount into it and smearing it over your breast and down your stomach.

Next came the cinnamon sugar that he carefully sprinkled over it. He stood back, admiring his work before nodding at the final project. “Now all that's left to do is eat.” He smirked as he moved closer, his body trapping you against the counter again. He left kisses from your mouth to your chest, where he started to lick the chocolate, cinnamon-sugar from your skin. He sucked on your nipples making sure not a bit of the sugary concoction was left.

He nibbled and licked his way down your stomach until he was face to face with your womanhood. He lifted your leg and put it over his shoulder before his face was back between your legs, helping you to reach the orgasm you missed out on before. Your fingers were tangled in his brown hair, tugging on the tresses hard as you came. Your legs shook and almost gave out, but thanks to his grip on your thigh and the counter, you stayed in place. “I could eat out every day with you.” He said as he pulled away, his mouth a glistening mess from his meal. He put your leg down and guided you down to the floor where he was.

He moved in for a sloppy kiss, letting you taste yourself on his lips. He pulled away to discard his apron and his almost suffocatingly hot sweater. You were presently surprised by how well built he was. With his apparent affinity for sweets and the handsome yet cat-like face he sported, you didn't expect him to look like that at all under all that clothing. Even the scar on his stomach was something to be admired. He noticed you staring, so he lifted your chin with his index finger. “Enjoying the view?” You bit down on your bottom lip and nodded. you were thirsty and would willingly admit it.

“Let's not stare too long, I still have things I want to do to you.” Your heart was racing from his words. “Would you like a taste before I start the next course?” He tilted his head down and looked at you through his damp bangs. It was hot in the kitchen even with the burners off.

You pretended to think about it, already knowing your answer. “I'd love to taste,” he grabbed the bowl from the counter while still on his knees.

“Have at it.'' You weren't a skilled chef, but you are good with your mouth. Before you even touched the chocolate, you made sure his pants and boxers were discarded.

It was your turn to be in awe once again. How were you this blessed to have a man ready to fuck you, who not only had a gifted tongue but a gorgeous cock as well? You wasted no time. The angry veins and the fact that his member was at attention for you made you even more eager to have him in your mouth. You dipped your fingers in the chocolate and painted a few stripes on the shaft of his cock before licking it off and taking him into your mouth. His hand rested on the patch of hair right above your neck as he gently guided your head up and down his length.

You were amazing. It took every bit of him not to cum in your mouth. Your hands worked on his balls for added pleasure, your tongue twisted around the tip every time you pulled back. His eyes were rolled back, it was his turn to groan along with the music. You pulled away, a hand twisting around the shaft of his member. “Cum for me.” you stuck out your tongue, rubbing the underside of his tip over your wet muscle. His eyes closed, his hand gripping the back of your head as he released into your mouth. you let the liquid dripped from your tongue and down your chin. You only managed to get a little of it down.

“Fuck..” He was spent but his stamina was no joke at all. Plus he was enjoying how sexy you looked under the overhead potlights. your skin glistened with sweat and he could smell your sex as he still had spots of your wetness on his face. “How does it taste?” Your tongue darted out to lick up the mess on your chin and he used his thumb to rake up what was left. You sucked on his thumb, letting it go with a pop.

“I need to be inside you now. Like, right now.” He stood and helped you up. He bent you over the counter once more. To him, you were so fucking sexy it wasn't hard for him to get hard again, seeing that he was already semi-erect. He fluffed himself, his eyes transfixed on the view of your ass and glistening pussy on display. You were bent over just waiting for him to completely devour you.

That alone was enough to get himself hard again. Lifting one leg and letting it rest on the surface. He slid in your wet entrance, your walls wrapping around his member, squeezing it. He gripped your ass cheeks as he slowly started to pound into you, not even concerned if you adjusted to him or not. His member slid in and out of your creamy wetness as you screamed his name over and over. You loved how he filled you up. You couldn't get enough of how good he felt.

Sweat beads rolled down his cheeks. It felt like a sauna in the kitchen, even if it was an open space. But that didn't deter him at all. He had a goal in mind. He wanted to see his cum drip from your cunt. Just the thought causes his member to twitch inside of you. One hand wrapped around your throat as the of his thumb readied to slide into your asshole. He let spit drip from his mouth and used it as a lubricant. He rubbed his thumb over the hole before sliding it in and bending it as he fucked your. You choked out a moan.

So, that was the kind of man he was? Your eyes rolled back as he pulled his thumb out to slide it right back in. You knew you wanted to fuck Chef Lee, you just weren't expecting it to be a completely different one from the other night. But you weren't complaining. The gorgeous man who was currently drilling you into oblivion was perfectly fine to you.

His fingers tapped on your throat, “Cum for me, Y/n. Cum on this dick so I can cum inside of you.” You let out a euphoric sigh, your hand gripping at his wrist. your walls convulsed, squeezing and hugging his cock as you came for him like he asked. He grunted feeling just how tight you had gotten. His thumb slipped in a little more as his pace picked up. your leg shook, his pace sending you straight towards the edge of your third orgasm.

He snapped his hips into you a few more times before his seed glazed your walls as if they were the dessert he described earlier in the evening. He pushed in before pulling back. He pulled his thumb out of your ass, watching it slowly go back to its original tight ‘o’. He spread your cheeks and looked at the white substance that peeked out of your hole. Satisfied with his work, he took a seat on the floor as you slid to your knees, still gripping the counter. His cum slid out your cunt due to the awkward position you were sitting in, which caused him to chuckle.

“Looks like we have a mess to clean up.” He said speaking of the disaster zone your kitchen had become. There was chocolate on your rugs and smeared on the cabinets and cum and spit on the floor in multiple spots from your messy blowjob and his cream pie. There was a buzzing noise as your little robot vacuum made its way into the kitchen for its scheduled cleaning. There was silence between you both as you watched it work before they burst out laughing. This was a cooking lesson neither of you would forget.

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A.N: Please leave a like or comment to let me know how you feel. I'd love a little feedback. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it.

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