#this part of this song i swear is so different every single time they do it

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 9: Don't Let The Bed Bugs Bite

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary:  When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you neve expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you're around him the more you hate him, but you can't help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team.  (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!) Soldier Boy calls the reader "Petals."

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Not in this chapter), Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy, Protective Ben/Soldier Boy

Word Count: 6.7K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), swearing, mentions of sex, sexual innuendo, sexual jokes, sexual tension, Nightmare, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Drowning, Mention of Vomiting, SUPER GROSS SUPERPOWER, Reader is really oblivious, and I mean REALLY oblivious. Ben/Soldier Boy 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.

A/N: This chapter is just really fluffy and I didn't want to keep it to myself, because it makes me so happy. Well, after the first part at least.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Rain glazed all the sharp edges of the world outside the car, smearing the drops against the windows with a heavy hand. The humid air breathed and iced the glass, but did not disrupt the droplets that raced quickly by, catching and sparkling in the sporadic streetlights along the twisting road.

Your mother was singing softly along to "Nights In White Satin", the haunting melody building with every note, your father's deep baritone weaving with hers to make a wonderful melody in the silence of the night. The smell of rain seeped through the ancient air conditioning, the heady scent of wet earth and clean water filling the cab of your family's car.

 You smile to yourself in the backseat, sleepy and content, tracing a single finger against the smudged glass to watch each raindrop race against the fogged glass. You could still taste the chocolate ice cream on the tip of your tongue from the cone your parents have bought you on the way home, your hands and cheeks sticky with the remains. The leather seats of your family car are worn in and soft beneath you from years of family trips all over the United States. There was still a loose marble rolling around back and forth with every gentle rock of the car as it moved smoothly over the wet roads, a comfort when you were a baby and you couldn't sleep and your parents drove around the block to send you into the sweet abyss.

The sharp plunk of rain against the windshield is heavy, but your father reaches to turn up the song on the radio, flicking his eyes to smile at your mother one final time. And as he glances back up he shouts something.

You can't hear what it is, only that when you look out the windshield you see a brilliant flash of white light coming straight for the car and feel the car jerk to the right as your father yanks on the wheel. There's an awful sound of concrete against metal, a high pitched screech that you can't forget followed by the almost inhuman scream of terror that comes from your mother's mouth, as the car breaks through the concrete side of the bridge and goes off the road.

There's an awful moment of weightlessness and when the car hits the water everything goes black.

You jolt upwards out of bed, screaming at the top of your lungs, chest heaving and gasping for air as the memory of water filling your lungs floors your senses. You shudder involuntarily, rocking back and forth as you try to shake off the memory of your parent's death.

No one really knew what happened that night, what the bright light was that you saw or where it came from. The detective said that it had to be lightning, but it hadn't looked like lightning to you. Your parents had drowned inside, but you survived. When the police arrived on the scene of the crash they found you on the bank of the river with the branches of the trees forming a protective cage around you. The back windshield of the car had been completely destroyed, blown inward when the trees along the bank had reached in to pull you out.

You always thought it was funny that somewhere deep down your powers took over, you weren’t  sure if it was when you blacked out or if you somehow forgot what happened in your parent's final moments, but all you knew was that you were alive because you called out for help and the trees answered.

A part of you still felt guilty. It had been your fault that you were out. There was a music recital at school, they'd come to support you, Darren had stayed home too busy doing homework to care. He was taking courses at the local community college, too involved in his own life to pay any attention to yours, except when he needed you. You weren't sure why the trees hadn't saved them too, why you were the only survivor.

You reach for your bedside table, scrambling in the darkness to find the inhaler that usually helps, before finally putting it to your lips and taking in a long puff.  It helps for a moment. Your heart was still beating fast, a cold sweat making your sleep shirt stick to your back, as another involuntary shudder works through your body, the sound of your mother's scream ringing in your ears.

You press your face into your knees trying to calm your breathing when your bedroom door snaps in half. Pieces of the door shoot through the air like shrapnel as Ben appears in the doorway, shirtless, wearing only a pair of black sweatpants holding one of the lamps from your living room.

"Ben what the fuck?" You scream, heart already feeling like it was going to burst out of your chest.

"What happened? What's going on? Why did you scream?" He shouts back, eyes darting around the room as if looking for invisible intruders.

"Get out of my room!" You shout.

"Not until you tell me what's going on." Ben's eyes fall on you once more and you watch the tension in his shoulders drop an inch. "Are you okay?"

"Yes." You lie taking in a deep breath, hoping that you can calm down your heart beat and that he's not paying attention to that.

He was.

"No, you’re not."

"Yes I am." You didn’t feel like doing this with him, didn’t feel like telling him exactly why you'd just woken up screaming or deal with him teasing you.

It had been a few days since the party and you had been trying your best to make things as normal between the two of you as you could, especially after you'd yelled at him. It had been more awkward the day after, not because of what you said to him, but because of what he yelled at you after the supe got away. He hadn't come back to the apartment until after you'd gone to bed and when you woke up on Sunday morning, Ben had gotten you coffee again when he went out to get a newspaper.

You figured that was his way of apologizing for yelling at you. That and he had insisted on walking to "Please Don't Die" with you on Monday and Tuesday morning, as if he thought that you were incapable of doing it yourself and then showed up when you got out of work at 5 to walk you back home. You didn't know how he figured out what time you got off of work, only that when he showed up to get you on Monday, he glared at Jake who was debating with you about which of Rory Gilmore's love interests was the best.

Jake had watched a few episodes with his younger sister when she visited him a few weeks ago to tour some of the colleges in New York, and she'd gotten him hooked. Annie and you had watched Gilmore Girls forever ago, but you'd started watching a few episodes now that it was fall and that meant you were being reminded of how much you obsessed over the show when you were younger.

Ben had stood there watching the two of you, noticing how close Jake was standing to you and how Jake seemed to smile even wider and how Jake spoke animatedly to you over the display of cactus all the while frowning and glaring daggers in the back of Jake's head.

You'd be lying if you said that you weren't reconsidering dating Jake. Ben had made it clear what he wanted and despite how much you were attracted to him, you knew that he didn't want to be what you wanted, and you didn't want to force Ben into something or try to turn him into something he wasn't. So you were trying to think about what it would be like dating Jake. He definitely had the kind of qualities you were looking for, he was one for relationships, he had the same sense of humor you did, he liked plants almost as much as you, he was kind and compassionate, and he had a warm smile.

The problem was you couldn't imagine what it would be like to date him and for some reason the thought of dating Jake didn't bring you as much joy as it would have a few weeks ago, and you had no idea why that was.

You also didn't know why Ben came to pick you up or forced himself to walk with you to work, especially if he hated Jake so much and hated being around Jake, but Ben did, and then bought you a cup of pineapple iced tea from your favorite shop around the corner from your apartment on the way home even though you insisted on paying for yourself. He thought that pineapple iced tea sounded disgusting, but because you liked proving him wrong, you'd let him have a sip and he'd grudgingly agreed that it wasn't "that bad," but then took another sip of it when you put it down on the kitchen counter for a second to pet Bean when he thought you weren't looking.

Honestly you didn't understand why he was so eager to walk with you to work or why he wanted to walk you back to the apartment. Not when Ben seemed to fill his life and all his time endless dates with the women of New York City, something that you noticed he hadn't done in the past three days since the party. You always figured he had better things to do than walk with you, and yet he had making somewhat pleasant conversation, well, pleasant for Ben which was not the same as pleasant for other people. But it wasn't terrible. He did occasionally tease you because you couldn't walk past a wilting plant without perking it up, but that was to be expected.

"No, you're not." Ben put the lamp down on the floor by your door. It didn’t have it's shade on it anymore and you figured that Ben had ripped it from the living room table when he heard you scream, throwing the shade to the floor when he kicked down your bedroom door.

The same door that was lying in pieces on the hardwood floor of your bedroom.

How am I going to explain that to the super?

"Yes-" You gasp for air and shove the inhaler in your mouth again to take another puff and this time it takes. "I am." You finish, swiping your free hand over your face to rid yourself of the tears, but for some reason they won't stop. "Please, Ben just go-" Your voice breaks for a moment and you bury your face into your knees again.

You really wanted him to go, didn't want to talk to him about this, didn't feel like putting up with his teasing or with his disgusting jokes, and didn't want him to make fun of you for using an inhaler, the same one you'd had prescribed by your doctor when he told you that your nightmares were causing panic attacks. You didn’t have to use it all the time, just when you had the dreams.

You feel the end of your bed dip and you glance up from your knees at Ben. He's sitting there, not quite looking at you, instead he's petting Bean where he was guarding over you as you slept.

"You don't have to talk to me if you don't want to, but I don't want to leave you when you're like this Petals." He says it more to the cat than to you, barely audible. Bean was leaning into Ben's hand as if Ben being in your bedroom, sitting on your bed was normal.

You suddenly feel like you’ve been struck by lightning. What he said was so honest so caring so completely unlike the Ben you knew that all you could do was stare at him. If anything the shock of what he said seemed to help you regulate your breathing and calm down from the images you had just seen in your nightmare.

Ben doesn’t say anything, just continues to rub Bean under his chin, sitting on the end of your bed like it’s the most natural thing in the world and as if he hasn’t said anything at all.

You stare at him for longer than you should, tracing the dips of his broad shoulders, the gentle freckles that graces his skin, and muscles as the taper down his back. You’d seen him shirtless before, but every time you’re unprepared for how good he looks.

Right now he looks, different. He looks softer.

You’re not sure if it’s because of the yellowed light from your bedside table lamp or if it’s because he’s petting Bean, but there's something about him that feels more open, as if he genuinely cares, and it makes you want to talk to him. You sit there for another few minutes calming your breathing, still holding on to your knees, but you prop your chin on your knee so you can look at him.

Why won't he leave? Why does he care so much that he wants to stay here?

Bean stands and saunters up the bed to press his head into your shin as if he's checking up on you. "Hey buddy." You whisper hoarsely, rubbing him behind his ears.

Ben turns his body, folding one of his legs under him and the other hangs off your bed so that his bare foot is sitting on the hardwood floor of your bedroom. He's watching you with an unreadable expression, eyes following the trail of your hand on Bean's back, but Ben does not break the silence.

"I have nightmares sometimes." You whisper. Bean's thick gray fur was falling through your fingertips in a comforting way, his luminous amber colored eyes looking up at you. "But I'm okay."

Ben still doesn't say anything.

The high pitched ring of the metal of the car on concrete makes you wince and he doesn't miss it. You watch his hand twitch as if he wants to touch you, but instead he lays it on the bed between the two of you, sinking into the soft comforter.

"I've never heard you scream like that before." Ben murmurs under his breath. "I thought that-"

You glance up at him, eyes wide.

He runs a hand through his hair nervously, as if he's uncomfortable continuing the conversation. "I thought that the supe was in here with you."

"The electric guy?"

Ben nods once.

"No I don't think he's in here. Unless he's hiding under the bed or something." You smile weakly at the joke, but you can still feel the jolt of the car hitting the water and the sharp snap of the seatbelt cutting into your chest. This time you successfully fight the shudder.

Ben doesn't smile. "The nightmares aren't about him are they? Or when I-" He stops mid sentence eyes flicking away from you, ashamed.

You understood what he was asking. Ben and you, like any modern day meet cute, had met mid-fight, the night that Butcher took him to Vought to take down Homelander. Back then you hadn't been working for Butcher, you'd showed up with Annie, and when Ben advanced on her you'd shoved Annie out of the way from his outstretched hands.

You hadn't been fast enough to escape yourself and he had hauled you up into the air by your throat, his chest glowing a dangerous orange spreading up through his skin until it turned his eyes a molten gold. Your hands had held on to his wrists so tight that you felt like your skin was burning and you were desperately trying to think of a way out of this. But just as you thought he was going to explode, his eyes had locked on yours and you watched something move through them that wasn’t rage. Ben had thrown you across the room and gone after Butcher instead.

"Is that why you didn't want me to move in?" Ben's gaze is on you, something deep buried in his eyes that looks a lot like regret. "Because you're afraid of me? Because I hurt you?”

“Ben, no. I’m not afraid of you.” You touch his hand where it rests on the bed gently. He had hurt you. The bruising around your neck for the few weeks that followed was ugly and had to be covered up with turtlenecks and foundation to avoid people on the street asking you if you needed help.

But it hurt you more to know that he thought that you were afraid of him and that he worried about that. Because you weren’t afraid of Ben. Yes he lost his temper and would yell very loudly and always felt the need to scream his opinion to the world, but you didn’t think that he was a bad guy despite what he had done. If you had been afraid of him then you wouldn’t have let him stay with you in your apartment, let alone live with your cat.

He looks relieved when you say it. “Then what are they about?”

“I-“ You swallow, before dropping your gaze back to your knees. You retract your hand, but Ben turns his over, palm up and gently holds yours, not quite squeezing it, just laying beneath yours.

What in the actual fuck is happening?

You glance down at where he’s holding your hand, the warmth from his body comforting like the first day of summer, seeping through your body as it does to take away the chill the nightmare left behind. It seemed a little awkward for him, as if he wasn't sure what to do now that your hand was laying on top of his. He wasn't even entwining your fingertips together, but your fingers just barely curved over the thick muscle at the base of his thumb. His hand was bigger than yours, rough and worn in just the right places.

“It’s about my parents.” The words feel like cotton in your mouth. “The night they died.”

"Oh."

You bite the inside of your cheek. You weren't sure that you wanted to talk to him about this. You'd never wanted to talk to anyone about it. The only person you'd ever spoken about it with outside of your family was Annie. But he was here, and he was looking at you differently, and he was actually holding your hand, sort of, and he was acting so different than any time you'd spent together.

"I was twelve. It was raining and we were coming home from a music recital." You couldn't remember what it was you sang, just remember the people coming up to congratulate you and the large bundle of gardenias that your parents had bought you. "My dad was driving and they were singing in the front seat together."

You felt the tears begin to build behind your eyes, throat closing. You can't really look up at him now, all you do is stare at where his hand sits under yours. " We were crossing over a bridge and there was this brilliant flash of light, my dad swerved and the car went off the road."

Ben's hand finally curls around yours. "You were in the car?" His voice is lower now, emotion lacing his words. 

You nod once. "In the backseat." You whisper. "I can't really remember what happened after we hit the water, all I know is that the trees saved me."

"What?"

"I don't know if I somehow called to them as I was drowning, but they broke through the back windshield and pulled me out of the car, but my parents-" Your voice breaks and you don't try to finish the sentence.

Why am I telling him this? He doesn't care. All he wants is-

"I'm sorry." Ben murmurs, interrupting your chain of thought, sounding sincere.

You shrug. "I'm sorry I woke you up."

Ben raises his free hand to tilt your chin up to face him, and you quickly get lost in the greenish glow that draws you in each time he looks at you. "Don't be sorry for that y/n. I'd rather be wrong and you be okay, than sleep through you screaming like that." Ben swallows. "I didn't like it." You watch the ends of his lips twitch for a second and he smiles. "And we both know how much I like to hear women scream my name.”

Despite the conversation you'd have previously, you snort and smile faintly. "Have you always been like this? Or is it a recent development?"

Ben shrugs, thumb rubbing just barely over your cheekbone. "I like to think of myself as charming."

"Of course you do."

"You don't think I'm charming Petals?"

"Nope."

"Still a bad liar." He laughs releasing your jaw to gently touch the scrunched skin between your eyebrows that gave away your lie.

"I don't really think you're that great at lying either." You roll your eyes, swatting away his hand. "At least I can pretend to like people."

"I can pretend to like people-"

"Oh really? Then what about Jake."

At the mention of Jake's name, Ben frowns.

"See!" You smile wide. "I don't understand why you don't like him."

"He's annoying. No one is that happy Petals. He’s probably been drinking the Koolaid for too long and is trying to get you to join a cult. The pussy is practically part golden retriever." Ben rolls his eyes, but then notices you yawn. "I should go." He stands, letting go of your hand as he does. "You need your beauty sleep."

You fight the disappointment that blooms in your chest as he lets go and the immediate loss that comes when he lets go of you scares you. You're afraid of how you seem to be so attached to him, to someone who has told you countless times he doesn't want a relationship, doesn't believe that you need a strong emotional connection with someone else, and someone who said that the only thing he wanted from a woman was to fuck them.  That last part stung a bit. You remember when he said it to you, when you were looking over the map at the other apartment last week.

But why would he say something like that and act like this with me? Why did he come in here to save me from the supe?

"I think you could use some beauty sleep too Gramps. Without it, you look your age. Can't hide all those wrinkles under make-up." You half-smile when Ben sighs, before you pull your hands into your lap and  cross your legs beneath you. "But, thanks for-well- making sure that no one was murdering me."

"It's what roommates are for." Ben pauses in the doorway before he leaves, the light from the hallway reflecting off the strong muscles of his upper back. His body sways, considering if he should say what he's about to. "I -uh- I get them too." He whispers it.

"What?"

"Nightmares." You see the tension in his shoulders, the word muttered almost like a curse, as if he doesn't really want to admit that.

Your body freezes. "About the lab?"

He looks down and you take that as a yes.

You could only imagine what that was like for him, to be trapped in another country, thinking every day that someone he thought he loved would come find him, but then never did. Again the idea of what Countess did to him, burns hot in your chest. It broke you to think that Ben spent all that time wishing and hoping that she would come for him. You would have. You would have fought tooth and nail to find the man you loved, even if it meant you getting trapped in the process. Not trying wasn't an option in your mind.

Honestly, it was difficult not to come up behind him and hug him, to hold him close and let him know that it was okay to break, that it was okay for him to admit those things with you, and that it didn't make you see him as less than a man. But of course that seemed more like a relationship thing than a friendship thing, not to mention you thought if you tried to do that, Ben would probably somehow get you in the same position you were three days ago when he pinned you against the car with his warm body pressed against you in all the right places and his beard tickling against the sensitive skin of your neck. And that would only send the two of you reeling back to square one, and you thought that in the past three days things seemed to be better between the two of you, more casual and more friendly.

You didn't want to ruin that when you'd practically embarrassed yourself at the party by yelling at Ben outside. So you stay in your bed, your legs still underneath your comforter, your heart no longer pounding in your chest, and your breathing even.

"Well," You say slowly. "If you have one, you know where to find me."

He glances over his shoulder at you, eyes a little wider than usual and you think that he almost looks surprised. Ben nods once and vanishes down the dark hallway going back out to your living room.

You lie back in your bed, placing your inhaler on your bedside before you do, eyes focused on the ceiling and trying not to think about how good it felt to finally talk like two normal people with Ben and trying not to think about how he let you hold on to his hand.

You drag yourself through the front door of your apartment, exhausted, sweaty, and feeling like you'd swum through a dumpster that had been sitting in the sun for a week. You knew for a fact that you smelled, you didn't need super senses for that. The look of the people that lined the sidewalks of New York while you squished down the sidewalk and up into your apartment building was enough of a clue. Everyone had given you a wide berth and you didn’t blame them. MM even rolled down the window of his car when he drove you back. And he’d made you change your clothes into a set of gym shorts and a t-shirt that reached your knees and proudly proclaimed “I love you daddy” on it.

Yeah. It was that kind of day.

MM also made you sit with a plastic bag over your head to avoid smearing the remnants of the supe that was matted in your hair onto his seats.

When you woke up to answer your phone this morning, that was blasting the UK's national anthem aka. Butcher's ringtone, you knew that your day was going to suck. He had proclaimed over the phone loudly, because Mike had already started to screech Beyonce's "Love On Top,” that he needed you to deal with a supe. You thought that he was going to send you after the electric supe, but no, he and MM had caught a whiff of a supe that was robbing banks with his ability to liquify and turn his body into an tomato colored gelatinous mass.

I know, lovely right?

But of course, Butcher had decided that you were the one for the job and so he sent MM and you, while Ben was assigned to something else on the other side of town. The mission had gone wrong in the worst way, when the supe decided that the only way to fight you was to try and drown you in his liquified flesh, bone, and sinew.

When you'd finally scattered his body in the Hudson, you'd vomited for ten minutes, trying to expel as much of the supe as you could, but you still felt disgusting. MM had tried to be supportive, but the sight of you vomiting sent him hurtling to the nearest trashcan while his own stomach heaved. Not to mention  Butcher had chewed out the both of you good for technically "killing the supe."

But you'd rather the supe died than have to go through that ordeal all over again.

You'd tried to get as much of the orangey-red goo off of your body as possible, but it stained your clothes, so you had to walk through New York city looking like a giant bucket of paint was dropped on you and feeling sticky.

You turn around and lean your forehead against the front door with a loud sigh, trying to catch your bearings before you attempt to make it to the bathroom. You were happy that Mike hadn’t come out of his apartment. You didn’t want to have to explain to him why you looked like you’d taken a bath in tomato soup. Every few minutes you'd get a whiff of yourself and feel the urge to throw up all over again, living in the moment of the supe trying to shove his liquified body down your throat.

"What the fuck happened to you?" Ben asks from the charcoal couch, a blunt perched between his lips.

The living room had already started to look like his bedroom back at the other apartment, pieces of his dirty clothing were spread over your hardwood floors, old beer bottles were sitting on your coffee table, and there was a collection of half-smoked blunts in a large ceramic pot that you were letting Ben use as an ashtray. The room was still yours though. The plants on the walls and in pots around the space had not been harmed by Ben's habitation of your apartment. You wondered if that was because Ben actually was trying to respect your rules or if he was afraid you would throw him out.

I'm going to buy him a hamper. The last thing I want is to step on his dirty underwear on my way into the kitchen.

"The next time Butcher calls, tell him I died." You groan moving into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water.

He turns his head to stare at you. "Is that paint?"

"Nope." You shudder taking a sip from the water bottle, swishing it around your mouth to wash out the taste.

"Then what is it?"

"It's the supe. He was disgusting." You shudder and take another sip of water. It was helping a little bit, but you eat a handful of raspberries to try and get rid of the aftertaste. "I can still taste him."

Ben smirks. "You can still taste him? What part of him did you put in your mouth?"

"Don't be disgusting." You groan. "His power was liquification, okay, he could liquify his entire body-"

"Did you swallow?" He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

"This is why we don't talk." You narrow your eyes at Ben. "He liquified himself and tried to drown me by shoving himself down my throat."

"Drown you?" Ben sits up straighter. "Are you okay?" You watch something shift through his gaze that looks a lot like worry.

Why is he worried?

"I'm fine." You hold up a hand and watch him relax and take a hit from the blunt. "But worst superpower ever."

"I don't know, kinda sounds like a fun way to get to know someone-"

"He was an idiot. He thought that whatever he lost would replenish."

"Wait what?"

"Whatever he 'drowned' me with didn't reform on his body. So he shoved himself down my esophagus and then he couldn't figure out why he was missing a hand, didn't think about stomach acid. Idiot." You roll your eyes. "But we couldn't contain him and the only thing that I could think of was to dump him in the Hudson. He wasn't strong enough to keep himself together in the current of the bay, it’s gonna take him centuries to piece himself back together." You shake your head. "What have you been doing? I thought you had a hot Tinder date or whatever."

He'd mentioned it this morning when you saw him briefly and grabbed a granola bar on the way out of the apartment. You hadn't spoke much since last night or really had time to talk about what happened, if anything did happen. All he did was let you hold his hand and -well- kick down your mother fucking door.

You weren't looking forward to sleeping without a door, it was the only thing that separated Ben and you, the only thing that gave you a little privacy. You figured that you could just hang one of the crocheted blankets over the doorway, but you were exhausted.

Ben shrugs, letting out a lungful of smoke. "Thought I'd just relax tonight. Didn't feel like going out."

"You didn't feel like going out? Mr. Casual-?" You begin to say, eyes sweeping through the apartment and looking down the dark hallway, stopping on your bedroom doorway.

Instead of the broken mess it was this morning, a new door has replaced it. It's a beautiful dark red wood that matches the floors that run through your apartment, different than the white one that had been there previously.

"Mr. Casual?" Ben asks while raising an eyebrow, clearly confused.

You were going to call him 'Mr. Casual Sex' but you couldn't finish the thought.  "Did you fix my door?"

"Huh?"

"My door." You point down the hallway, eyes shifting back to Ben, who looks suddenly uncomfortable. "The one you broke in half."

"Yeah- uh- I know how much you like your privacy." Ben grunts looking back at the flat screen tv. There was a baseball game on, but the T.V was on mute, the blue light flickering around the small room.

You suddenly have the overwhelming urge to cry. You figured that it was everything from today crashing down on you, the frustration you had with the supe, the smell, and now Ben was actually doing something nice for you.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He still doesn’t look at you and you wonder if he's embarrassed that you pointed it out.

“Well I think I’m going to try to scrub whatever the hell this is off of me.” You say as you begin to walk down the dark hallway and Ben continues to watch the game.

“Wait Petals I’ve got something important to ask you.”

You look up at him expectantly.

“How much do you love your daddy?” His smile slips into a suggestive smirk. “Would you be willing to do anything  to keep him happy?”

“Shut up Gramps.” You flip him off and squish down the hallway to the bathroom.

When you get out of the shower you're missing several layers of skin. You'd scrubbed and scrubbed until you felt red and raw, but it was better than feeling the sticky remains of the supe all over your body. The clothes you wore were ruined and there was no saving them, but at least now you felt better.

You walk back out into the kitchen wearing a soft t-shirt and sweatpants. Ben was still sitting on the couch, but the blunt was gone. You hadn’t noticed before that his dark hair was wet, as if he had taken a shower before you got to the apartment, the smell of his shampoo was strong.

"There's pizza in the fridge." Ben glances over the back of the couch. "Much better Petals, orange is not your color. But I will say I miss the t-shirt.”

"I'm just happy that it didn't permanently stain my skin." You make your way to the fridge to pull out a slice of pizza, eating it slowly. "And very happy I didn't wear my favorite pair of jeans. I'm going to have to burn my clothes I think."

"I'm just happy you smell better." He wrinkles his nose. "Before you smelled like unwashed gym clothes and a fucking yeast infection."

"Thank you for that lovely comparison."

"You're welcome Petals." Ben presses his lips together. "Did you want to-" He pauses. "Watch a movie or something?"

"Oh, um-" You glance down the hallway. You really wanted to curl up with your newest romance novel under your covers and relax, possibly with a cup of calming blueberry tea.

Ben shakes his head. "Just fucking forget it-" He almost seemed angry with himself for suggesting something like that.

"Ben no. I do want to watch a movie with you, I just-" Your eyes flick to the t.v watching one of the baseball players hits a home run. "I kinda wanted to relax with some tea and read. I just got a new book and I haven't been able to start it yet. Annie and I are reading the same one and on Friday we're gonna have book club and I really need to decompress from everything that happened today." You say it gently, trying to let him understand that you wouldn't be opposed to the idea of watching something with him.

"Oh." Ben sits there for a moment considering what you said. "Well, do you want to sit out here? I know you don't exactly-" He clears  his throat. "Have a place to sit in your bedroom."

If Ben wasn’t living with you, you would be reading on the couch. Sitting in your living room surrounded by all of you plants always helped you relax. You hadn’t been able to do that since Ben moved in, not to mention you didn't want to encroach on his space.

“I mean if you’re watching T.V I don’t want to disturb you or anything-“ As soon as you say it, Ben hits the off button on the remote.

“I didn’t get to read the paper this morning and I’ve been trying to find the time all day.” He says, pulling the folded newspaper out from where it was folded and pushed up against the arm of the couch on his right side.

“Oh. Well. Um-“ You didn’t see anything wrong with sitting out here and reading with Ben. “Okay. I’ll just grab my book then.”

“Okay.” Ben breezes, before he glances at the left side of the couch where you would be sitting. The couch was in its upright position, which means it was more couch than bed, but Ben had stacked his blankets and pillows on the other side. “I’ll move my stuff.”

“Okay.” You say again because you weren’t really sure what to say.

You go back and grab the book from your bedside table, but stop just short of the door.

This is weird.

You think to yourself, holding the book tightly by its spine. You weren’t sure what was happening only that Ben and you were going to sit together on the couch in your living room quietly with no tv. And weirder still it was him that suggested you two do it.

He turned off the tv. He asked me to sit with him and suggested something non-sexual. You pause shifting from foot to foot. Because again Ben was confusing you. He was acting like the person you'd occasionally see when it was just the two of you, and it made you anxious. You didn’t want him to do this, to pretend to be someone you wanted just to get into your pants. It was like whiplash. Not to mention you didn't want Ben to force himself to change just for you.

Maybe… Maybe I can just go out there and pretend that this is normal and that he doesn’t just use women for sex like he told me. I will not overthink this. I will sit and read just like I planned.

You come out of your bedroom armed with your favorite crocheted granny-square blanket and the new book. Ben had cleared the left side of the sofa for you as he said he would and was now sitting with his newspaper spread out in front of him, one leg crossed over the other.

“Do you want some tea?” You ask him. You were just being polite, you knew that he would probably say no.

“Pineapple?” He actually kind of perked up as if he would have some if you made it.

“No it’s blueberry.”

Ben shakes his head. “Why do you like so many fruit teas?”

“Because they’re good and they enrich my life.” You snort before placing the book and the blanket on the couch next to Ben and go through the motions of making the tea. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“You’d be right. But could you pour me a glass of scotch?”

“Sure.”

When you’re finally hunkered down with your book and blanket, legs bent at the knee between the two of you, the book propped up on them, facing Ben with the right side of your head laying against the back of the couch, you feel yourself begin to relax. Bean is sleeping in a ball between the two of you. His soft breathing and the sound of pages being turned fills your apartment. The subtle thrum of the plants in the room soaks into your bones and you feel yourself begin to slip into the soft prose and for the first time in a long time you feel at peace. 

A/N: Annnnnddddd we're just gonna keep the Sky High References coming. Maybe the next supe they meet will glow… or turn into a guinea pig? 😅 Is it wrong that it's kinda making me want to do a Superhero High School AU with the Boys characters? That would be so crazy! I already have several other series fic ideas for Soldier Boy, but that idea is definitely going on the list to be considered.

As always thank you so much for reading and all the love and support! If you would like to be added to my taglist please let me know! 😊

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @corruptedcruiser @winchesterwild78 @the-super-who-locked-wizard

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@faephoria @possiblyafangirl @jqtaro @quietlybitchy @tinydancer40

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@fitxgrld @whimsicalcherry @ladysparkles78

@spxideyver

[spacexseven]

Fyodor would be a family man that’s good at hiding his true intentions from his family such as the decay of angels and rats house along with his s/o just nurturing their son and having a peaceful side along with Nikolai being a family friend who would entertain Fyodors son. One happy family

anon i could kiss you senseless rn...literally one of the best things i've ever had the honor of seeing in my inbox. this idea has ruined me i swear it's Perfect

fem reader, reader is married to fyodor and has a son w him

cw: yandere character, deceit, manipulation, mentioned murder

fyodor dostoevsky makes for a wonderful husband—loving, ordinary, almost suspiciously so, but you married him knowing that he was an ordinary man. you loved him knowing that he was an ordinary man.

an ordinary man with some extremely unsettling secrets, none that you knew about.

the fyodor dostoevsky you knew and loved was the man who kissed the palm of your hand, and if he was feeling particularly affectionate, your forehead, every morning before he left for work, with a half-smile on his lips and a fond gleam in his eyes. you weren't quite sure what he did, except that he worked for a company of some kind, but you didn't like the way his face hardened when you probed, so you left it at that. it didn't matter what he did, anyway, so long as he came back to greet you every night, safe and unharmed.

the man you married was the one who'd come home to greet you with a tired nod and a warm embrace, entertaining your son's excited rambling over dinner. he held you close when he read before sleeping, stroking your hair with a light touch. as far as you were concerned, he was an amazing husband and lover.

though he was not necessarily a good person otherwise.

you were so easily blinded by the tender warmth he showed his family, that you hardly cared for his uncharacteristic slip-ups. like when he scowls, ever so slightly, when the news broadcasts some detective agency receiving an award, or when a ghost of a smile lingers as you wonder out loud how a casino could be floating in the sky.

you never once questioned the times he came home in an entirely different coat from when he went out, or when he was away for days on end, not calling you or leaving you a single message. was it because you trusted him wholeheartedly, or because you were afraid of what the truth really was?

but even if you had your own suspicions, it would have never even come close to what fyodor was really doing. how were you to know that the same lips that whispered sweet songs of praise to you with a coquettish smile were the same ones that uttered a death sentence to his countless victims? and how were you to know that the steady hands that caressed your body so intimately had also touched numerous corpses? the husband that spoiled you on anniversaries and birthdays could not be the same man that was actively planning to cover the world with the blood of sinners.

for the most part, you liked nikolai too. he was a little odd, considering his getup and his tendency to seemingly pop out of nowhere, but he was good friends with your husband—dos, as he called fyodor—and your son loved playing with him. he didn't tell you what he did, either, though he let it slip that he worked very closely with your husband. he refused to explain fyodor's unexplained disappearances, though he would often stop by to show your son a new magic trick when fyodor was gone for a little too long, just to reassure you a little.

nothing really gave it away; not the amused expression when you told him to stay safe on his way, nor his eccentric coworkers. you were just happy that your husband always came home to you, and never failed to remind you that he loved you. there were, perhaps, more things that should have worried you. the way fyodor insisted that you keep your social circle small, or the frustrated look in his eyes that was beginning to appear more and more often. even the peculiar things he was beginning to tell you.

you're lying in fyodor's lap, mind drifting between sleep and consciousness as he looks at you with an unreadable expression. then, perhaps noticing that you weren't completely asleep, a little smile appears on his face. "tell me," his voice is soft, but every word feels strangely heavy, "will you ever leave me?" you frown slightly, and he chuckles. "even if i did something you don't agree with?" you shake your head, "what's this about?" his smile widens, and he gently pinches your cheek. the look in his eyes is unnaturally cold. "it doesn't matter. either way...you don't have anyone else to turn to."

and you could have continued the way life was, with your mostly ordinary husband and your wonderful family. at least, until he turns up at your door after an especially long period of disappearance. you would be thrilled, normally, but you're much too shocked at the sight of your husband in what looks like a prison uniform to feel any relief.

[querenciasturniolo]

OKAY NO, “favorite” was insanely good. If you wouldn’t mind, could you please write a part 2 for this fic? Maybe their flirting before something finally happens or maybe another car video with them already dating but no fan knows?

oops ⮕ c.s.

word count: 1.4k

warnings: swearing

summary: chris slips up, and the secret’s out

a/n: i’m so glad you liked favorite !! i changed the idea just a little bit 🤏🏻 but i hope you like it !!! 🤞🏻

{i’m not the biggest fan of this, but that’s okay. i might rewrite this at some point, but who knows 🤷🏻‍♀️}

everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.

part one || part two

Before you realized what was happening, Chris Sturniolo had made his way into your heart and stayed there.

The few months after the Q&A video was posted, the two of you continued keeping in touch. You talked to Nick and Matt of course, but Chris was incredibly persistent on answering quickly and asking you questions about yourself. It was only a matter of time before the two of you finally got together.

It had been almost a year since that video, and eight of those eleven months you’d been with Chris. The two of you decided early on to keep your relationship a secret from the fans, but with each video you did with them, more edits of Chris looking at you the way he did nearly blew the secret.

You thought it was funny, how he couldn’t control the way his eyes scanned over you like you were the only thing on his mind. It wasn’t just Chris, though. Nick keeping the bit of you and Chris admitting to be each other’s celebrity crush and favorite triplet in the video didn’t help things, either.

Your new single had only been out for a few weeks, and every single interview consisted of the same question.

“Fans have been speculating that your new single, Rare, is actually a love song about Youtube star, Chris Sturniolo. Is this true?”

You’d laugh and shake your head, your chest aching and your heart pounding as you said the same thing over and over again.

“I think the interpretation of music is up to the listener. If the listener wants to believe this song is about Chris, that’s okay. If they want to believe it’s just a love song I wrote for fun, that’s fine too. I personally was inspired to write about the feeling you get around someone who’s important to you.”

The interviewer would then fake laugh along with you, and thankfully change the subject. You hated lying to your fans, and just lying in general, but it was nice to have something private. You wouldn’t mind going public, persé, but you’d need to talk about it first to make sure he was on the same page.

Chris had spent the majority of his time at your apartment when you were in LA, and any time he wasn’t there, you were at their house. One of those times was right now, Nick and Matt sitting next to you on the couch and watching a show you had absolutely no interest in. Chris had his head in your lap with his eyes facing the screen, your fingers carding through his hair absentmindedly as you pretended to pay attention.

Suddenly, Chris sat up and turned to face you, his hair sticking up in different directions and his eyes wide.

“We should go live.” He suggested, Matt and Nick glancing over from where they were sitting with furrowed eyebrows.

“Why?” Matt asked, reaching for the remote and pausing the show.

Chris shrugged his shoulders and pulled his phone out, glancing at you unamused and running a hand through his hair to fix it. “Why not? We aren’t doing anything anyway.” He said, tapping the Instagram icon and sliding over to go live. He propped his phone up on the Pepsi can on the coffee table and rested his head on his hand. Comments started pouring in almost immediately, many of them about the fact that you were on the couch next to him.

After a few moments of silence, Chris glanced over at the three of you with his eyebrows raised. “Are you guys just going to sit there like bumps on a log, or are you going to join me?” He said, your eyes rolling as you scooted more into frame, Nick and Matt grumbling as they stood up and followed suit. Nick sat on your other side while Matt sat on the other side of Chris, all four of you now looking at the comments flooding in.

Y/N WHO IS RARE ABOUT?????

You chuckled and shook your head. “Rare is a song I wrote about how it feels to be around someone who makes you love yourself.” You said, your answer vague as you noticed the way Chris’ fond eyes flickered to you on the screen for a split second before going back to scanning the comments.

well that’s one way to answer a question i guess

it’s about chris confirmed

idk, the verse about someone with bright eyes like stars seems to scream chris

Nick scoffed and looked at you. “How many times have you been asked that?” He asked. You shrugged your shoulders.

“About ten thousand, but I don’t mind. It’s sweet that people want to know. It’s a happy song, they just want to know why.” You said, Nick pursing his lips and humming noncommittally before looking back to the phone.

The live went on for what seemed like ages, the four of you replying to as many comments as possible, the rapid rate of which they were coming in made it near impossible to read. After a while, Matt pulled out his phone and started scrolling through Tiktok, his volume low and his eyes flickering between his phone and the live.

“We filmed our Wednesday vlog today, it’s one of my favorites so far.” Chris said. “No hints as to what it is, but I hope you guys like it.”

Matt snorted at whatever was playing on his phone, nudging Chris’ shoulder for him to look. He did, his eyebrows furrowed and his tongue between his teeth as he watched. You and Nick continued reading the comments, laughing and responding to a few before Chris guffawed and covered his mouth with his hand at whatever Matt was showing him.

He grabbed Matt’s phone out of his hand and held it in front of your face. “Babe, look at this!” He said, all four of you freezing in place as you registered Chris’ words. Before any of you could react, comments started flying in immediately, whether they were keyboard smashes or just consistently repeated ‘I KNEW IT’s.

“End the live.” Nick mumbled, all four of you reaching for the phone at the same time and knocking it off of the table.

“Shit!” Chris shouted, scrambling for his phone and desperately jamming his thumb onto the screen to end it. It was no use—his live had crashed, and his screen was frozen on the image of all four of you staring wide-eyed at the camera seconds after Chris’ slip up, comments still pouring in at an impressive rate, each comment blurred. In a last ditch effort to fix it, he turned off his phone and dropped it into his lap.

The four of you sat there in silence, the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife. You finally turned your head and met Chris’ eyes, his face frozen in a wince.

“Oops?”

The silence only lasted a few more seconds before you completely lost it, hysterical, raucous laughter bubbling out of you as you clutched your stomach. The three of them joined in soon after, the four of you near tears as the reality of what just happened set in.

“How did that even happen?! We were doing so well!” You said through your laugh, Chris shaking his head and wiping at his eyes.

“I don’t even know, it just came out.” He said, the four of you finally calming down enough to catch your breath. “I mean, at least we don’t have to hide it anymore.”

You pulled out your phone and opened Instagram.

“Well, there’s only one thing left to do.” You said, Chris leaning into your shoulder as he watched you create a post. “Help me pick one.” You said, scrolling through your photos before he tapped one. You had taken it ages ago, but it was still your favorite picture the two of you had taken together.

“What should the caption be?” You asked, Chris raising his eyebrows at you and scoffing.

“What do you think?”

You rolled your eyes and typed the lyrics out, making sure to tag Chris before posting the photo and locking your phone.

“And now we wait for the uproar.” You said, Chris chuckling and pressing a kiss to your temple. Nick groaned dramatically, catching both of your attention as he pushed himself off of the couch and headed towards the kitchen.

“Oh God, if you guys are going to be all mushy now, could you at least give a warning?” He said, though you could tell he was only teasing. Your phone screen kept lighting up, notifications pouring in from Instagram.

“Well, it’s out there now, I guess. You’re stuck with me.” You said, Chris rolling his eyes as he wrapped an arm around your waist and lightly leaned his weight onto you.

“Yeah, I guess I am.”

don’t keep your distance, i’m not scared

i’m not gonna fight this, baby you’re rare

[blondiedae]

dry house, wet clothes (two)

𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃 dry house, wet clothes, two

pairing. johnny suh x afab!reader x jeong jaehyun

genre. angst, fluff, eventual smut, slow burn (for jaehyun), friends to lovers (for johnny)

warnings. swearing, mentions of drinking, kissing, groping, smut tags will be added when it applies. big miscommunication trope, it is what it is. it’s so much angst i’m so sorry

word count. 10,247

plot. the four of you have spent years building the world around you, your friendship, your weekends together hidden in jaehyun's loft. you, mark, johnny and jaehyun. shaking the foundation of that by being in love with your best friend, jaehyun, is a risk you've never been confident enough to take. but, johnny suh is confident and johnny suh has been known to shake the world around you.

other's mentioned. mark lee, dong sicheng (winwin), na jaemin, lee jeno, huang renjun, lee donghyuck (haechan), kim jungwoo

author's note. saying mark is just mentioned isn’t doing him justice, mark lee is just as much a part of this as the three main characters. here’s part two, enjoy!

taglist (open). @xiaojunsdino @yoursyuno

playlist. coming soon ! (the song mentioned in this chapter is “ps2” by litany)

Johnny was waiting for you under the marquee.

“Hey you.” His fingers wrapped around a single white rose, “For you.”

You took it, “You got me a flower?”

“A white rose.”

“I see that.”

He titled his head and pointed, “Do you know what it means?”

“The rose? No.”

Johnny told you, “Innocence and new love.”

“Love again, Johnny?” Pretending to wince, you turned from him and started towards the doors, “This is slowing down your two week time frame.”

You could hear him laugh, his feet padding against the concrete, and then Johnny was standing right next to you. He grabbed the door handle with one hand, ushering you in with the other, “Maybe. But, I have to establish that this is a date and not just us hanging out.”

You looked at him, only briefly, over your shoulder, “I know it’s a date.”

Johnny stepped into the line of people waiting for tickets, hand still on your back, “Do you?”

“Do you?”

He grinned, “Of course I know it’s a date. I’m the one who asked.”

“Not that.” The flower twirled between your fingers; innocence and new love. The weight of the knowledge that Johnny had much longer to process any changing feelings was heavy. Throughout the day, that weight only grew and settled on your shoulders like it was taunting you, dragging out your every move. It was fine enough to joke about it, but the reality of an actual date coupled with kisses you wished wouldn’t end and a single white rose made you pause. You looked up at him, that look that look that look he gave you was hypnotizing, dizzying, different but still nice. So, you clarified, “Do you love me?”

It was enough to make Johnny pause, too. It was enough to make him look away from you in thought. You wondered if it was enough to make him feel the same kind of weight that you did, but you guessed not when he shrugged, “I don’t know.”

For some reason, his answer didn’t settle like it should have. It didn’t bring you any sort of ease or comfort, it almost stung. He was so sure, as always, as promised. You weren’t sure you even wanted him to love you, because the question was still up for debate if you could love or even romantically like him.

The line shifted, you both followed, “Then let’s make a deal. We don’t mention the word love until one of us - either one of us - knows.”

Johnny agreed, “Okay. Deal.”

The line shifted once more, and again, and again until you two were at the counter. Johnny got the tickets, handing yours over and settling his hand on your shoulder, this time, to lead you towards snacks. After a moment of silence in the concession line, Johnny told you, “I could, though. I won’t mention it again, but I could.”

“You could what?”

“Love you.” He squeezed your arm, stepping up to the counter and leaving you behind him. You waited for him to order and pay, fiddling with the flower and staring after him. Johnny was back at your side, passing you a bag of popcorn and leading you away again before adding, “But, I promise I won’t bring it up anymore. We’re theater five, right?”

You nodded; an acknowledgement and a confirmation in one gesture. Johnny stole some of the popcorn, both of you weaving through the crowd, and that was that.

The movie was fine, better than the night before. You wanted to tell Jaehyun that Johnny could, in fact, pick decent movies. The thought, while Johnny’s fingers were laced through yours, made you still. The thought, while Johnny kept you close and led the way through the crowds of dispersing movie goers, made you shiver. The thought of Jaehyun while Johnny smiled down at you and rubbed gentle circles onto the back of your hands made you feel so incredibly guilty.

You begged your mind to stop, if only for the night. Begged your mind to take note of your feet, where they stood, and ground you there. You pleaded with the thoughts, asking them to slip into the shadows and respect where your body was; standing next to Johnny, holding the rose in between your hand and his, wandering through a park in comfortable silence.

“What’s on your mind?” Johnny bumped you with his shoulder, your steps were perfectly lined up; he was taking smaller strides to match you. It didn’t go unnoticed, “You're up in your head. I want to be selfish and remind you that you should be on Earth. With me.”

You looked at him, maybe in complete awe, because, “That’s exactly what I was thinking about.”

Johnny stopped and tapped your forehead, “Then get out of there.”

You laughed before nodding up at him, “Okay, I’m back.”

Johnny laughed, too, “Can I ask why you were stuck up there?”

“You want me to get stuck again?”

You couldn’t tell him. Of course, he did not and could not know that. Johnny shook his head, “Absolutely not.”

“It’s just…” You twisted your lips in thought, nose scrunching and eyes searching for an answer in the park benches, cobblestones, trees and wilting flowers around you, “It’s still a lot to take in, you know?”

“You keep saying that.” He was giving you that look again. You wondered how many identical looks, just like that, you’d missed in the last six months; wondered if noticing them would have changed anything, “Is it too much?”

“I don’t think so. It’s only been twenty-four hours.”

“So, time will help?”

“Time will help.” Johnny licked his lips, likely tasting the lingering movie theater butter. You followed the path of his tongue, maybe too focused on something you’d never considered before. Then, you asked him, “Have you always kissed like that?”

Johnny couldn’t stop himself from chuckling, head tilted towards the stars and his hand flat against his stomach, “As far as I know, yeah.”

“Damn. If only I had known that sooner.”

He raised an eyebrow, “How much sooner?”

“Hm.” You twirled the rose, now hanging loosely in your hand, alone, “Remember when you tried to kiss me under the mistletoe?”

“Which time?”

“The first time. At the winter dance.”

“That far back?” Johnny mimicked shock, leaning back and widening his eyes. He quickly shook his head, “I don’t think I was that good, back then. You had a pretty good reason not to, anyway.”

“Oh God. Don’t bring that up.”

“Don’t bring up what?” He was taunting you, he always did. Johnny started walking again, waiting for you to catch on and catch up, “Don’t bring up Sicheng?”

“I’m begging you.”

“Dong Sicheng.” He mulled over the name, his steps wide, but slow. Like he was walking to a beat only Johnny could hear, “That breakup was brutal. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry like that.”

You laughed a bit, though it was rooted in truth, “He broke my heart, Johnny.”

Johnny laughed too, “He extended his exchange program for as long as they’d let him. What was he supposed to do?”

“I don’t know. Not move back, I guess?”

“But if he hadn’t moved back, you probably wouldn’t be here with me, now.”

You shook your head, eyes scanning the ground and your feet and anything but Johnny, “Nah, I don’t think we’d still be together.”

From the moment Dong Sicheng walked into the room, you thought of nothing else. To say you were smitten wasn’t doing your unadulterated infatuation any justice; Sicheng had felt the same. It was a completely different feeling than you’d felt in your adult life, maybe a feeling you’d spent time chasing. It was different, even now, with Johnny. If the girl who had fallen in love with Sicheng was in your current position, she’d have no trouble devoting all her attention to Johnny.

It just wasn’t the case. Age, maturity, perspective or conflicting feelings - whatever it was - changes everything.

Johnny stopped again, breathing out a quiet, “Wow.”

“Wow?”

“In a world where Sicheng didn’t leave, you think you’d still be here? On a date with me?”

You smiled, but shrugged, “Probably.”

Johnny clicked his tongue, “Huh.”

“You’re very convincing. Really good at it, actually.” It suited Johnny to be that way; his encouragement had taken the four of you on a lot of adventures. Even so, even with Johnny pushing you to step out and step up and do something wild, he never did so in a way that felt uncomfortable or forced. You knew him, just as he knew you. All Johnny ever wanted was for people to feel comfortable and welcome, “Also…”

“Also?”

“I trust you.” The smile Johnny gave you when you said that conjured up a butterfly to find a home in the pit of your stomach, like you’d said the most wonderful thing imaginable to him. You faltered a bit, focusing back on the rose, “What?”

Johnny had found a comfortable position leaning against a tree. His arms were crossed over his chest and that same look stayed perfectly on his face, “I know….look, you and I never really speak so deeply. Not without a lot of jokes and not one on one, like this. But, I just want you to know how much that means to me.”

“What? That I trust you?”

He nodded, “Also that you’d pick me over Sicheng.”

“Oh my God.” Your eyes rolled back, amused but imitating annoyance, “I didn’t say that.”

“You implied it.” He paused, “I’m serious, though. It really…means everything to me.”

“Can I ask you something? In the spirit of talking seriously?”

“Go ahead.”

You let out a held breath, calming the newly formed butterfly and seeking out courage, “If this doesn’t work out…if we try and it goes wrong or it just doesn’t go right, will we still be friends?”

“Yes.”

He didn’t hesitate. You didn’t expect him to, but it still rattled the butterfly into a frenzy, once more. A smile crept onto your lips, a sense of security you had been seeking for the last twenty-four hours or more. The worst thing that could result from this was losing Johnny; losing any of the three of them, really. Knowing he’d still be around eased your mind, a pinch.

“Good.”

He stepped towards you, “But, can we make another deal?”

“Mhm.”

“Try not to think about it ending before it’s even started, okay?” Johnny’s eyes looked directly into yours, unblinking and shining and warm, “Give me as much of a chance as you can. If you need me to pull back, just tell me. But, don’t think of the end just yet. Can we do that?”

You wanted to blink, the fall wind nipping at your eyes. There was a part of you that was afraid to; afraid to blink and miss this moment, maybe blink it away entirely. You kept staring, your smile growing wider as you nodded and scrunched your nose, “Deal. I can do that.”

Johnny waited a moment before he leaned closer, lips hovering over yours. He watched out, carefully and quietly, and asked in a whisper, “Pull back?”

You didn’t answer him, not vocally. Instead, you closed the distance between you and kissed his lips.

📻

It was the same every weekend. The four of you would find your way back to the loft, one by one, after a week of working and, for Mark, classes. You’d mingle and laugh and review the events of the week. You’d drink and dance and stay up well into the morning, like you were all still teenagers. Eventually, you’d melt into the same, familiar pile on the mattress; a mess of intertwined limbs, pillows and warm blankets. The stars would shine above you and you’d fall asleep, counting them and counting breaths and holding onto the moments of silence in your favorite place.

You were the first to arrive this week.

The loft was impossibly still, leaves slipped off tree branches and bounced across the panes of glass; scraping and sliding and slipping away to the ground. You lost track of time, sitting there with your hands in your lap, headphones whispering your favorite tune just for you, watching fall sweep away any traces of summer. Time always moved too fast, outside of the loft, it slipped away like the leaves. But, inside, wrapped in your favorite blanket, with your favorite people, in your favorite place, everything slowed down.

You felt nostalgic and eager all at once.

Every inch of the loft held a memory, but every night spent here built more and more on top of those memories, making it impossible not to cherish every minute.

Jaehyun came after you, startling only for a second seeing you in the middle of the floor. You smiled at him, he smiled back, but you didn’t move or take your headphones out. Jaehyun just joined you, leaning close enough that he could hear the music, too, and staring at the same leaves, the same gusts of wind, the same remarkable nothing you’d been looking at.

It was easy to be silent with Jaehyun. It had always been. The two of you had perfected communicating in glances, in pointed looks, in shrugs and in smiles. So, in those moments where you felt something would be, should be, could be said but you failed to find the right words, you’d look to Jaehyun. You would stay silent and he would know exactly what you meant in the way you blinked, the tilt of your head, the slump of your shoulders.

You’d do the same for him, always always always.

You’d always have your eyes on Jaehyun, in case he needed to say something without saying it. In the moments he needed to be heard while staying silent. In the moments Jaehyun needed to be read. The thought reminded you how hard it had been to read him, less than a week ago. The corner of his lips, so close to you now and perfectly in view, was taunting and daunting and upturned.

Jaehyun looked at you. You didn’t know when you’d stopped watching the leaves and turned your attention towards him, maybe when the woman in your ears crooned, softly, “And I said, I love this boy so much.” Maybe it was the way she repeated it, four times, and how you were almost certain Jaehyun could hear it.

But, even if he could hear it, even if he was listening, would he ever really hear what she was saying. Would he ever feel the moments when you couldn’t stop your hands from shaking in his. Would he ever feel the way your heart beat when he held you close and urged you to sleep, truly sleep. Would Jaehyun ever feel any of it? If he did, would Jaehyun feel the same. And, if he did, would Jaehyun ever do anything about it.

You blinked, slowly altering your expression before he caught on and it worried him, “How was work?”

He had tossed his jacket to the side when he came in and loosened his tie around his neck, three buttons as well. He looked intentionally disheveled and tired, but he always looked like this, come Friday afternoon.

Jaehyun only shrugged, pulling one of your earbuds out and putting it into his own ear, “It was fine. Did you finish your book?”

“No.” Your tongue threatened to spill the secrets of your week, the reason you were behind on work and hesitated to answer his calls, text him back, even think of Jaehyun. Johnny. You had to hold yourself back from telling Jaehyun I spent a fair amount of time making out with Johnny. Looking away from Jaehyun, down at where your hands flirted with the idea of touching, you sighed, “I was really distracted this week.”

Jaehyun almost asked why, but his stomach twisted into knots at the potential answer. Since Sunday, since you told him Johnny confessed, you two had never addressed the subject again. Things went back to normal and Jaehyun convinced himself that because you hadn’t asked for his input, it meant you’d come to a conclusion on your own. He hoped the conclusion was not to date Johnny and he hated that hope. Johnny was perfectly fine, Johnny knew you, Johnny would no doubt take care of you and Jaehyun had watched you date other men before. He had managed just fine, then.

This time felt exponentially different to him. To both of you.

Jaehyun didn’t want to believe what he knew to be true; he was jealous that, if you decided to date one of your friends, it wasn’t him.

He didn’t want the clarification, he didn’t want to know more unless he had to. So, Jaehyun wouldn’t ask. He’d stay silent and he’d behave as he normally would; he’d hold your hand and hold you close and Jaehyun would tell you everything he could without saying it outright. He wouldn’t ask. He wouldn’t ask a thing.

In stopping his question, his lips failed to block his statement. Something he couldn’t tell you with a look, a smile, a sigh. A simple observation, as he watched you, “You look really beautiful, right now.”

He meant it. The sun had formed a halo around your head as it slipped behind some clouds, closer and closer to setting. Your cream colored sweater hung loose on your body, Jaehyun guessed it fit like that because it wasn’t your sweater, to begin with. It could’ve been his, maybe Johnny’s, he was almost certain he’d seen Mark wearing that same sweater two weeks ago when the weather first shifted. Either way, it suited you; the color, the fit, the halo of light. You did look truly so beautiful to him.

So, he meant it. And he said it. And Jaehyun didn’t really try to take it back or hide it, because the way you smiled at him before looking away again was enough to stop his heart. It was enough to make you glow even more, if possible.

You smiled and opened your mouth to say something once, twice. The only thing that came out was a laugh, one that Jaehyun echoed.

“Hand.” Jaehyun turned his palm upwards, holding his hand out to you. You took it, you always took it, you would always take it, “Tell me about the book.”

You sighed, leaning to rest your head on his shoulder, “It’s so….boring.”

His body shook with another short laugh underneath you, and it was impossible for you to keep your own laugh at bay. Jaehyun asked, “What’s it about?”

“Not a clue.” You peeked at him, taking in what part of his face you could. The way his hair was pushed away from his face, covering the tips of his ears. He’d kept it long since the spring, it suited him, “I’m sixteen chapters in, out of forty-three, and I have no idea what is going on.”

“Who wrote it?”

“Mm, someone named Lee Donghyuck? His pen name is Lee Haechan.” You let out a short groan, focusing on your hands in his lap, “I feel bad, it’s his first book. He’s younger than Mark and it’s not that he’s a bad writer, I just….”

“You’ve been distracted.” Jaehyun repeated. He was right. He still didn’t know why he was right, you still didn’t want to tell him. So, you both stayed silent for a moment, “Clear your head this weekend. Start over on Monday.”

“And if that doesn’t work? My deadline is in two weeks.”

Jaehyun thought for a moment, wind shook the windows and the song playing for the two of you stopped, a different tune following immediately after, “Read it to me.”

“Read the book to you?” He only nodded, hand still firmly in yours, “You don’t have to do that, Jae.”

“I want to.”

“You’re really going to hate it.”

He shrugged his shoulders, a second time since he’d been home. Jaehyun looked down at you, with his recently unreadable expression, “Not if you’re reading it.”

It was so easy for him to make your heart stop and it was even worse that he didn’t have a clue that he did it. You sat upright, leaning away from him again and listening to your music too intently; the world outside of the loft, moving at the speed of light, suddenly seemed more interesting. Like you’d rather be standing in chaos, overwhelmed, than sitting so close to Jaehyun that he might hear your heart falter or stop all together.

“What are we going to do tonight?” You asked, picking at the blanket on your lap, “Did we have a plan today? I know Mark wanted to go to the park tomorrow. I guess there’s a busking thing he wants to go to.”

Jaehyun shrugged again, the third time, “I don’t think there’s a plan, but the fridge is empty from last weekend. So, someone is going to have to go on a grocery run.”

“I can do that.” Johnny said from the door. He had a backpack slung over his shoulder, still in his white shirt and black pants from work. He smiled at the two of you, dropping his pack on the floor next to Jaehyun’s discarded jacket and tucking his hands into his pockets, “Who wants to come with?”

Mark came up behind him, “I don’t want to go. I’ve been walking all day.”

The youngest flopped down on the mattress, spreading out as wide as he could. You had been smiling at Mark, half listening to Jaehyun tell Johnny he didn’t want to go but he’d pitch in. The album you’d been listening to had looped and reshuffled and repeated, playing the same song. When Jaehyun turned to you, to ask if you wanted to go with Johnny, you could hear her again, “And I said, I love this boy so much.”

Jaehyun heard it too, clearly this time and not muffled. If he visibly faltered, you missed it, but he could feel his heart flip in his chest at the way you looked at him, at the way his breath caught. His mind split in two; he let himself find a new hope that maybe that look was because you were thinking of him and choked down the thought that it could have been Johnny in your mind. Jaehyun couldn’t stop himself from wondering if you thought of him when you listened to these songs or if you thought of Johnny. The woman singing hadn’t even said the line a second time before Jaehyun composed himself, but that split second felt like a lifetime of the two of you looking at each other while she sang something only you two could hear.

Jaehyun cleared his throat and said to you, “You’ve been here the longest, you should go with Johnny.”

Christ, the last thing he wanted you to do was go with Johnny. Jaehyun somehow made himself say it, made himself calm and collected and remained grateful that his hair was covering his heated ears. You nodded, standing and adjusting your clothes, your hair, fidgeting to avoid thinking.

You circled around the thought that it seemed so easy for Jaehyun to encourage you to be near or with Johnny and that, maybe, he would never feel what you did.

Jaehyun pulled out his wallet, handing you his card, “You know the code.”

You mumbled, “Yeah.” Then put out your other hand for your earbud. Jaehyun stared at it for a moment before he remembered. She was singing, longing and breathy, “I want to get to you” when he pulled the bud from his ear and dropped it in your hand. You smiled and looked at Johnny, “Is it cold out?”

He shrugged and wiggled his hand in a noncommittal gesture to answer, “You want my jacket?”

Johnny had started to squat, reaching for his bag. Jaehyun stopped him, telling you casually, “Just take mine. It’s already out.”

So, you did. You slipped it on and held your breath as long as you could to avoid breathing him in. Mark was all but passed out on the mattress, Jaehyun had busied himself on his phone and Johnny was opening the door for you to step out onto the rooftop of Jaehyun’s childhood home. The two of you left, without a word. You changed the music playing in your ears, something more upbeat, and offered Johnny the other earbud. He took it, took in the music and took your hand, twirling you down the street. It was like the spin pulled you out of your head, the counteracting swirls of thought and movement clashing enough to pull you back to Earth.

That’s where Johnny wanted you, dancing down the street with him to a song you both knew. That’s where you should be, where you wanted to be. Still, you looked over your shoulder up at the loft. It was surrounded by clouds, a cool-toned sunset forming behind them. The loft was floating above the rest of the world, hovering over you and Johnny and the street you danced down. If Jaehyun was watching, you couldn’t see him and maybe that was for the best. Maybe it would allow you to be the version of you Johnny deserves; the one Sicheng got in the sense that Johnny suddenly had all your attention. Here. On Earth.

And the grip he had on your hand, loose but leading, helped pull you back down to the ground.

“Smart move.” Mark’s voice was muffled by the pillow he had smushed his face against, but Jaehyun heard him well enough, “Give them alone time.”

“Huh?” It was simple enough to play dumb, especially when Mark was barely awake and not looking, “I’m just too tired to walk to the store.”

Mark didn’t answer, already snoring as soon as he’d stopped speaking. Jaehyun waited until he knew you were a safe enough distance away to look down at the street. Johnny had your hand in his, swinging it wildly and pulling you in and out of spins, dips and lifts. Jaehyun felt like he was watching you from the clouds, watching you live a life separate from him. He’d always been right there with you, grounded on Earth at your side. Instead, he was floating above and watching.

He hated the feeling more than he could ever say. But, he urged himself away from the ledge of seething anger, uncontrollable jealousy, when he saw you turn around and look up at the loft. When Jaehyun saw you looking up towards the clouds, up towards him.

So long as you did that, you’d tug on his heart to hope.

📻

You weighed the options in your hand, the fluorescent lights of the corner store shining down on you and the two bottles of Soju in your hand. Johnny had wandered off to another aisle, some time ago, finishing up what you came here to do. You could hear the clank of glass bottles and his voice before you saw him at the end of the aisle, leaning against the shelf and smiling at you, “God, I really hate when people do this?”

You didn’t look up, “Do what?”

“When they don’t put things back where they go.” Johnny took five long strides to get to you. He sighed, as obnoxiously as you imagined he could manage and mostly to get your attention, “Like why is there a snack in the drink aisle?”

“What?” Finally you looked up. The expression on Johnny’s face was pride, if you had ever seen it. Still, you looked around the aisle expecting to see a wayward bag of chips or a misplaced candy bar. Johnny pointed directly at you, still as proud. You groaned with realization, putting one bottle back and stepping around him, “Please get away from me.”

Johnny laughed, the sound breaking the silence in the otherwise quiet convenience store, “That was clever. It took me the entire walk to and from the chip aisle to come up with that.”

“Do people still say that? Snack?”

“It was appropriate for the setting.”

He was following behind you, bottles tapping against each other in the basket, “I’m going to start keeping a tally of the corny things you say.”

“What’s the breaking point?” He asked, coming up beside you, “For the tally?”

“I don’t know yet.” You couldn’t help but laugh, tucking your shampoo into the basket and turning down another aisle to head towards the cashier. Johnny followed, once more, “Maybe ten.”

“Ten, huh?”

“Six?”

He paused, “Wait a minute. What do I lose if I get to ten?”

“Maybe six.”

“What do I lose?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know that yet, either.”

“So, it’s an empty threat?” Johnny leaned in, nose close to brushing yours, “That’s not gonna stop me.”

“It should.” You kept walking, greeting the cashier and waiting for Johnny to pile everything on the counter. He watched you pay, handing Jaehyun’s card over and politely thanking the cashier for what Johnny counted was the third time since you two had been in the store. He followed you out, nodding his head in a bow to the employee and carrying two of the three bags. You looked at him, over your shoulder, “Come on.”

He smiled, didn’t say anything for a while, but walked faster instead of trailing behind. He didn’t mind the view from either point, but Johnny did think it was important for him to note and for you to know, “You look beautiful.”

You didn’t hesitate to say, “Thank you.”

You didn’t shy away from Johnny or look down at your hand, the bag in it or the ground underneath it. You just accepted it as he wanted you to. Johnny thought you looked beautiful and it was as simple as that. He nudged your shoulder, “You look better in my jacket, but you still look good in Jae’s jacket and Mark’s sweater.”

“I thought this was your sweater?” Your eyebrow raised, lifting the fabric as though it would tell you the answer, “It’s Mark’s?”

Johnny didn’t answer, “Did you wear what you thought was my sweater because you knew you were seeing me?”

Immediately, your cheeks were burning and your mouth dropped open. The answer was not consciously, no. But, since Johnny had pointed it out, you felt only slightly shy. You tilted your head up, looking for a distraction in the stars and any breeze to cool your heated face. You could hear Johnny laugh, then heard him rustling his two bags just to your left before you felt his hand slip into yours. His lips were close to your ear when he said, “You look even more beautiful when you get flustered, like that.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded, “Yeah. And, before we get too close to the loft and go back to pretending this week didn’t happen…” He didn’t sound bitter, but his words still nipped at you. You wanted to not want to pretend, but finding your footing in this was hard enough. Adding an audience would make it harder, especially when Jaehyun would have a front row seat. You looked up at Johnny, all the same, hoping you knew what he was about to ask. He pulled you to a stop, looking down at you and smiling, “Can I please kiss you? It’s been three days.”

“Oh no. Are you feeling….” You bit back a quiet laugh at your own joke, “peckish?”

To say Johnny looked offended, to say he looked shocked, wouldn’t do his expression any justice. He dropped your hand to hold his heart, “Do I need to start keeping a tally, too?”

“For what? You said I’m a snack, you want to kiss me.” You scrunched your nose, too clever for your own good, “So, obviously you’re feeling peckish.”

“You get to be corny but I can’t?”

Once more, your shoulders lifted in a shrug, “If you did it in moderation, maybe.”

“I’m going to kiss you, now.”

“Okay. Peck away.”

Johnny’s lips on yours was the furthest thing from a peck. It took your breath away immediately, eliminated any wit or snark or simple thought from your mind until all you could do was move your lips against his. You wondered if you had forgotten, in the last three days, what it was like to kiss Johnny. If maybe restraint had wiped your memory of it clean. But, this felt so different from what you remembered. Johnny kissed you like he might never get to again, like you were slipping away from him, like he was going to stop and you’d be gone. You’d never be able to know why, but it felt too good to dwell on the thoughts that might unravel the truth.

Johnny’s hands fiddled with the bag in yours until he’d taken all three of them in one of his hands. He broke away from you only to place them gently on the ground, enough time for you to stand breathless but never to catch your breath. He pulled you closer, flush against him and tucked away in the limbo between street lamps. His hands held your waist, slowly inching down and down and down until he stopped to ask you, “Pull back?”

You shook your head, but you both had your eyes closed. So, you breathed out, “No.” The sound caught in your throat, barely making it past your kiss-swollen lips.

Johnny’s hands fell to cup your ass, bringing you even closer if it was possible and pulling a moan out of your lips. You could feel him smirk, feel that prideful look creep back onto his face. The only sound was his breathing, your breathing, the rustle of the bags in the wind and the wet sound of your lips and your tongues together, together, together.

“Johnny.” His name on your lips sent him spiraling; sweeter than any treat he’d been given, any candy, cake or chocolate Johnny had tasted in his life paled in comparison to that sound. He groped at you, another moan that sounded almost as sweet, “Fuck.”

“Are you okay?” He was panting, kisses slowing but never stopping, his eyes still closed, “Do you want me to stop?”

Your instinct was to say no, maybe pull him down the alley that would lead to your house instead of the loft. Johnny, in his truest form, was urging you to be reckless and wild and out of any comfort zone you’d been in. But, you pulled back and told him, “We’ve been gone too long.”

He still didn’t open his eyes, forehead against yours while he caught his breath, “Give me a second.”

“Okay.” You held into him, giving him support to gather himself while he did the same to you. You kissed his cheek, his jaw, his neck, tugging on his hair while your mind screamed for you to stop. To pause. To slow down. Your body took longer to listen, Johnny’s as well, “We should go.”

His breathing had evened out, Johnny pulled away. If you looked anything like he did, you’d give yourselves always as soon as you stepped foot into the loft. You adjusted Johnny’s collar, he fixed your hair. You smoothed down his hair, he wiped away the smudged mascara on your cheeks. Johnny turned and picked up all three bags, offering you his hand. You held it only until you reached Jaehyun’s street, offering him your earbud once more but opting for walking instead of dancing.

You both broke away, him spinning you out and dropping your hand, as you rounded the corner and came into view. It didn’t stop the glances between the two of you. Your heart fluttered with the secret of his lips on yours, his hands on you, the sound of his whimpers and moans. If you had ever told yourself you’d been in the position with Johnny, at any point in your life, it would have been almost impossible to believe.

But, looking at him looking at you, feeling the heat rush back to your cheeks at your most recent memory of Johnny’s lips on yours, you might have started believing in impossible things.

It felt nice.

📻

The sun took time to come up; unfolding itself from lingering and new clouds, rolling itself over the tops of buildings and filling the loft - inch by inch - with light. You watched the particles of dust dancing in the sunbeams for a while, softly twirling Mark’s hair. The strands coiled around your fingertips, having curled and twisted more as he slept. Johnny’s chest rose and fell underneath your head, somehow you had shifted further down in the night. You could hear his heart beating, even and soft.

Jaehyun was to your left, as he always was, hand in yours and snoring softly. His head was turned towards you, lips almost pressed against your exposed shoulder - Mark’s sweater was too hot to sleep in. You could feel Jaehyun’s breath, the moment it shifted from steady to short, waking breaths. He blinked a few times, taking in the morning, taking in you. Just as he had the week before, exactly a week ago. Jaehyun squeezed your hand and smiled, “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, you wanted to scoot closer. You wanted a reason to be closer to Jaehyun. You didn’t dare move too much, didn’t dare wake up Johnny and Mark, “My head hurts.”

He reminded you, “We drank too much.”

You recalled bottles falling to the floor, not shattering but landing with percussive taps on the wood. Friday nights to Saturday mornings were always the hardest transition. You pulled your hand from Mark’s hair to cover your eyes, shielding them from the sun coming in. Behind your palm, the memories of music, of laughing, of dancing played. The four of you were scrambling to match your movements to each other so whatever you were doing, chaos disguised as dancing, seemed choreographed. It came in flashes; some quick and clear, some blurred and warped.

“Who fell asleep first?”

Jaehyun looked up, through his mussed hair and over the top of his pillow. He nodded towards your own pillow, “Johnny did.”

You said, “He has to make breakfast, then.”

“I’m not making breakfast.”

“You’re awake?”

Johnny grumbled, “You talk too loud.”

“We were whispering.”

He tapped the top of your head, urging you to lift it. Johnny stretched up and out, his arm landing between your head and Jaehyun’s for a moment. He rolled away from the pile, coming to sit up on his knees, “Mark technically fell asleep first.”

“He was napping. It doesn’t count.” You turned your head as much as you could to look at Johnny. He was watching you with a sleepy smile, hands pushing back his hair. Next to you, Jaehyun closed his eyes, fingers tapping against the back of your hand. You smiled back at Johnny, “Wake him up to help.”

“You’re not going to help?” It wasn’t a pout, but it came close. Johnny yawned, head falling back, “Fine. Mark, wake up.”

From his place, nuzzled against your stomach, Mark grumbled, “No.”

“We have to make breakfast.”

“No. You have to make breakfast.” He settled himself in more, reaching up for your hand to place it back in his hair, “You fell asleep first.”

Five minutes of bickering and bribing before Mark pulled himself up and away from the mattress. You and Jaehyun stayed, hands still together. It took a moment for the morning to sink in, the quiet of it without your music and without any other noise than your breathing. You’d spent more time being conscious in the daylight, today, than the three of them had, but Saturday was still just as fresh to you. The sun, having rested from the week, was refreshed and kissed your skin in a way it only did on the weekend. The air felt different, the silence felt different.

Maybe it was the way your head was pounding, maybe it was the way you needed to ground yourself again. Maybe the alcohol from the night before had yet to wear off. Either way, whatever reason, you rolled onto your side to face Jaehyun. When he looked back towards you, turning his attention away from the sky and focusing on your body next to his, you pressed your forehead against his and closed your eyes.

Jaehyun smiled, his dimples diving into his cheeks, his nose creasing at the bridge. If you had seen it, you might have melted. He took you in, really took you in; your chest rising and falling, the small smile tugging at your lips, how your hair had come loose from its hold in the night. You’d been restless in your sleep again. Jaehyun kept pulling you back down and towards him in the moments you shifted or squirmed.

It always seemed like the natural thing to do, the natural progression of things in your relationship. The shared birthday parties that lead to sleepovers that lead to tracing constellations on your skin that lead to silent conversations that lead to an understanding of each other that was impossible to breach. It was natural.

Without much thought, without a word, Jaehyun pulled back to press a kiss on your forehead. He was quick to put his forehead back against yours, back where you decided it needed to be on a fall, Saturday morning, “Bad dream?”

You didn’t answer, you didn’t need to and your tongue was tied in your mouth, so you didn’t think you could. Instead you held your breath and shook your head, slowly. Jaehyun lifted his other hand, smoothing down your hair before resting it on your arm. After a moment of soft circles on your skin, he scooted himself closer to you. You moved, too, closing the space. The natural progression of things.

“I’m so hungry.”

He secured you in his arms, “They’re probably destroying the kitchen.”

“I don’t want to help.”

Jaehyun breathed out, “Me either.”

You could hear the soft hum of music from two floors down, the clattering of pots and pans and Johnny instructing Mark on what to do. Only fifteen minutes had passed when it was all interrupted by the sound of smoke alarms blaring. You opened your eyes, finally. Jaehyun blinked at you, you blinked back. Both of you sighed, pushing yourselves up and pulling apart. It was decided, in two blinks, that the two of you didn’t have a choice but to help. A silent conversation, a natural progression. So, you stood and Jaehyun handed you his sweatshirt he’d changed into, last night, to keep you warm from the loft to the kitchen.

Johnny saw you first, a smile on his face as he popped a grape into his mouth, “Mark burnt the pancakes.”

“Of course he did.” Jaehyun laughed but was quick to help Mark. The youngest was pushing something around in a pan, brow furrowed in a mix of concentration and confusion, “Go mix more batter.”

Mark backed away, “Sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry, Mark.” You told him. He knew, of course. Mark adjusted his glasses, taking a spot next to Johnny and reaching for the whisk. You put your hands on Mark’s waist, stepping around him, “Look out.”

Pushing open the window over the sink, you ushered the smoke filled air outside and hoped it would quiet the alarms. It didn’t. So, grabbing a kitchen towel, you went down the hall to the detector, stood on your tiptoes and fanned the air around it.

“Here.” Johnny’s voice was directly in your ear. You could smell the oranges he had been cutting, the scent breaking through that of burning batter and smoke. His hands held onto your hips and Johnny lifted you up, slightly, so you were closer to the ceiling, “I’ve got you.”

The beeping stopped, he lowered you down, “Thanks.”

He told you, “Good morning.”

“Good morning.”

Johnny kept his hands firmly on your hips, asking, “Do you have your phone on you?”

You nodded, “Yeah, why?”

He didn’t answer, but took the kitchen towel from you and took a step down the short hallway, still looking at you, “Do you like this song?”

Since you had been downstairs, the music had been too soft under the shrieking alarm, the clatter of pans and spoons and bowls, Jaehyun instructing Mark from a distance. The sounds had all mixed together until one by one they were eliminated. Now, it was just the music, twisting around the corner and coming down the hall from where Johnny’s speaker sat on the counter. He watched you, taking in the song for the first time. After a moment, you nodded your head.

“It’s nice.” You decided, “Why?”

Johnny didn’t say anything after that, he only nodded back and turned completely to walk the rest of the way into the kitchen. You could see him stick his hand in his pocket, pull out his phone, tap something on it and then put it back. And you probably should have predicted it, but you still jumped a bit when your own phone went off in the pocket of Jaehyun’s sweatshirt. Your eyes rolled back, taking it out and taking a few steps, “Johnny, what the fuck? Just tell me…”

You stopped yourself, only in his line of sight for the time being. The message on your phone made your heart skip in the way his smile had been, the way his kisses did; that secretive tingle that rustled butterfly wings to flight in your stomach. Johnny watched you, every second you stared at your phone - only a few, but long enough. You faltered between a smile and neutrality, tapping on the link; a playlist of about thirty songs, the title of it was simply your name.

Finally, you looked up at Johnny. He chomped on another grape, but quickly and silently mouthed, “You’re blushing again.”

📻

“If her sister was bright, shining and vibrant, then she was the sun - so intensely beaming, that nothing could rival her.” You turned the page with a sigh, “He would always dare to look directly at her; happy to go blind if it meant he could be so close.”

Jaehyun had his head on your lap, “That’s the end of the first chapter?”

“It’s the middle of it.”

The blanket underneath the two of you whipped about in the wind, calming and bunching around your legs. Jaehyun pulled it out, smoothing it down again before he sighed, as well, “It’s not…that bad.”

“It’s really not.” Around you, the hum of the busking festival filled the air; guitars and stereos, drumbeats and vendors shouting. It was a chaotic mix of sound and smells and sights. Mark and Johnny were lost somewhere in the middle of it, “It’s just so…”

“Wordy.”

“Wordy.” You agreed, tapping Jaehyun in the middle of his forehead, “And he’s spent almost the entirety of the first chapter describing how perfect she is, which is frustrating.”

At that, Jaehyun shook his head. He kept his eyes closed, settled and comfortable in your lap, but you could tell he was thinking, mulling over the words you’d spent the last half hour reading and deciding on saying, “I don’t think that’s it. She’s not perfect, it’s just how the narrator views her. He’s in love with her, so he sees the best parts of her.”

Leaning back to rest your head on the tree behind you, you hummed, “Does love always mean only seeing the good, though?”

Jaehyun shook his head, “No. But, you’re only halfway through the first chapter and there’s forty-three of them. Maybe the bad will come out.”

You looked at Jaehyun, your fingers tugging lightly at strands of his hair. You watched as he swallowed and his cheeks gave way to his dimples, just for a second, unaware in such a blissful way on your lap, “Have you ever loved someone like that? That they were the sun and you’d willingly go blind looking at them?”

Jaehyun didn’t hesitate to say, “Yes.”

Behind closed eyes, he thought about you the night before; how the sun was blaring behind you, in its final stretch of light, and how he’d stare as long as he could to see that halo of light around you. He could feel you shift underneath him, the way your breathing changed and, for only a second, Jaehyun thought about telling you. He could tell you, he could tell you everything; that it was you he’d stare into the sun for. You were the sun. His heart leapt into his chest while yours sunk to the ground, words weighing heavy on the tips of both your tongues.

You gnawed at your lip to keep questions at bay; who was it he loved so much, why had he never told you? Who filled him with the same warmth as the sun, who made him burn? You kept your eyes down, watching Jaehyun and how the sunbeams slipped through the sparse leaves to dance across his face. You didn’t have to stare into the sun for him, the sun followed Jaehyun wherever he went; lighting him up perfectly in front of you.

Still, you looked up. You heard leaves crunching behind you and you looked up, towards the sun, following two pairs of feet until you saw him; Johnny. Surrounded by light, beams hugging the outline of his body and wrapping him in light. His smile was radiant, “There you are.”

Jaehyun opened his eyes, shielding them from the bits of light breaking through the Johnny-and-Mark shaped barrier. He watched you, the way you willingly looked up at Johnny through squinted eyes, despite the sun. Jaehyun was reminded of your conversation almost a week ago and he cursed himself for claiming support. Maybe he always would. Even still, he sat up, wiped his palms on his pants and scooted away from you.

Jaehyun looked up at Mark, not glancing at Johnny, and asked, “Did you guys find food?”

“Here.” Mark handed over something in a paper boat, plopping down on the blanket next to you while Johnny stepped around the blanket to sit next to Jaehyun, across from you. Mark bit at a french fry, smiling and bobbing his head to distant music, “It’s fun, right? I didn’t expect it to be so big.”

“I don’t think any of us knew what to expect.” Johnny handed you a drink from the carrier looped around his wrist. He looked at Mark with a teasing grin, sipping on his own drink, “You're really bad at explaining things.”

Mark’s mouth was full, “I am not.”

Jaehyun smiled, joining in on teasing Mark, “You called it a “busking thing” and it’s a whole festival.”

“There are buskers!” The youngest defended himself, “That’s what the flyers said.”

Johnny sipped on his own drink, “I almost expected a bunch of your college friends to just be…out here…busking.”

“Why would they do that?” Mark’s eyebrow lifted, his head tilted, he looked identical to a puppy. He almost always did; curious and kind and excitable. But, right now, confused, “Renjun is a linguistics major, Jeno is engineering and Jaemin switched to philosophy last semester. I don’t think any of them have an interest in music.”

“Mark, that’s not…” Johnny started, then released a sigh, “Never mind.”

Jaehyun moved the conversation, nudging Mark and asking, “Jaemin changed majors again?”

With a nod and quick swallow, Mark said, “I think he was trying to impress a girl. He actually really likes it though.”

You asked, “Isn’t he supposed to be graduating in the spring?”

Mark only shrugged, “We’ll see.”

The conversation settled, a new one swelling like the music and ruckus around you. The four of you, tucked under a tree with sparse leaves, munching and mumbling through mouthfuls of food. Mark mentioned a musician he saw, a dance troupe, an artist. You wondered how he could take in so much all at once, all the time. Mark never noticed one thing at a time, he saw every last detail in the world, or at least the things he loved. So, you would all take turns asking the appropriate follow up questions just to watch as the youngest would light up, answering with as many details as he could spare.

Eventually, you’d all picked at the food long enough that it was all scraps and empty cups piled in the middle of the blanket. Jaehyun and Mark stacked and scooped and gathered the trash, and when they wandered away to get rid of it, Johnny looked at you. The sun bounced off his eyes, or maybe it was mischief. Either way, they glistened and your stomach twisted the way it did when Johnny Suh was about to pull you out of comfort. He stood and offered his hand, wiggling his fingers in front of you, “Come on.”

“Why?” You hesitated, he could see it. So, Johnny shook his hand once more and waited until you took it. He pulled you, upright, “What are we doing?”

Johnny laced his fingers with yours, tugging, “Come with me. I want to show you something.”

He was guiding you through the crowds before you could argue with him. Instead, you countered, “That’s barely an answer.”

“An answer would ruin it.” He squeezed your hand, reassuring and comfortable and before you knew it, Johnny stopped, “Dance with me.”

In the middle of the food stalls, all of the organized chaos halted at a dance floor. Groups and couples and individuals twirling, spinning, stepping to the beat of the music from the booth in the corner of the floor. It was Johnny's turn to watch as your eyes sparkled, mouth open and breaking into a smile. He tugged, once more, at your relaxing hand, securing his hold on you to pull you onto the dance floor.

You didn’t have time to tell him no. You didn’t have any desire to tell him no, either. You followed Johnny and stopped when he did, and when the music hit your ears, you fell into step with the crowd and the music and him.

Both of you laughed, half shouting and half singing the lyrics you knew. You spun in a circle around yourself, Johnny countered by circling you; like a planet falling into orbit around the sun. He just watched you and smiled and he was happy to, as long as you looked like that; beaming, blissful, beautiful.

Johnny was caught in his own mind, then, remembering the moment he felt something new looking at you. A moment identical to this one at a party that was like any other, a party Jungwoo had thrown one insignificant day in April. Jungwoo had been fired and he was upset about it and that was a good enough reason, he guessed. A party where you danced like this, with Johnny, in Jungwoo’s kitchen, while everyone else talked or drank or played board games.

Just the two of you in the kitchen.

Johnny was caught in his memory, how his heart swelled and his lips went dry thinking of what it would be like to kiss you. He wavered in and out of past and present, reminding himself that he now knew what that felt like. He’d do it now, if he could. He’d lean down and kiss you, hidden by the crowd and caught up in the music.

The memory pulled him back, thinking of how you’d pulled him in, melted against him, thrown your head back and laughed. Johnny could still feel the vibrations of it against his chest; the vibrations that kick-started his heart after it had paused taking you in. He had said to you, “You’re so drunk.”

“Maybe.” You had laughed, broad grin pulling at red-painted lips, “But I also love this song.”

The sound of your voice cracking, singing a high note in the song, brought him back to the present. You laughed, he laughed and clapped his hands, stumbling back a bit. Your hands caught his arms to pull him away from knocking into someone else and kept pulling until he was against your chest. Once again, you melted. Slower this time, not encouraged by alcohol and restricted by too many eyes. Johnny smiled down at you, “I really want to kiss you.”

“Yeah?” Your voice came out quiet, eyes moving from his to his lips, back to his eyes. You said, again, “Yeah.”

“I shouldn’t, right?” Johnny swallowed, “Not here?”

Part of you wanted him to, still you agreed, “Probably not.”

Johnny said, “I like you.”

It still took you by surprise; as though you didn’t know, as though he hadn’t been telling you, consistently, for a week now. You blinked and tried to breathe, because you might have liked Johnny too, just then. In a different context, but the same way he meant it. You liked kissing Johnny, you liked dancing with Johnny. You liked when he took your hand, when he pulled you safely through crowds, when he smiled at you the way he did. You liked a lot of things about Johnny, so eventually, you might like him, too.

So, in that moment, you said, “I might, too.”

And Johnny grinned. Exactly how you hoped he would, he grinned. Not expectant and not teasing, but shining and pleased, “I can accept might. Might is….really good.”

“Good.”

“I’m going to dip you.”

You shook your head, words mixed with a laugh, “Absolutely not.”

“I think I should.” If you were going to reply, Johnny didn’t care or account for it. He ignored you. You wished he wasn’t so good at that. Johnny had his hands around your waist and he leaned you back, swiftly but carefully. It felt more like a stumble for the first few seconds. His hair covered his eyes, he licked his lips and told you for the second time that day, “I’ve got you.”

And you said, “I know.”

Johnny pulled you back up, tucked you safely against him at the edge of the dance floor; at the edge of the world. A world that was spinning, wildly, around the two of you while you stood completely still. Melted like that unsuspecting night in April.

Johnny said your name, you looked up at him, “I want to take you on another date.”

You hummed, following as he swayed the two of you, “You want to take me on another date?”

“That’s what I said.” His voice was just above a shout, trying to be heard over the music, but you were certain only you could hear him, “Are you free Tuesday?”

Nodding, you told him, “I should be, yeah. What time?”

“The whole day.”

You stopped swaying, pulling back to arms length to look up at Johnny. He seemed shocked, you likely did as well, repeating, “The whole day?”

“I took the day off.” His simplicity, his ease, his certainty came back to taunt you. He guided you into a spin, out and away and mixed in with the crowd. Then, Johnny pulled you back to where you started pressed against his chest, “I want to spend it with you. As much as you can, at least.”

“Okay.” It was easy to agree, the two of you like this. It was easy to look up at Johnny and agree with whatever he said, carried by the music and the energy around you. It was easy and it felt almost right, so you agreed, “I can do that.”

“Good. That’s really good.” He pushed you back, gently and fluidly, like he was starting a new dance. Then, Johnny nodded his head towards the border of the dance floor, “They’re looking for us.”

You followed his eyes, “Ah.”

You saw Jaehyun first, weaving in and out of the groups around the edge. Mark was close behind. Johnny had yet to let go of your hand, holding it for as long as you’d let him, as long as the crowd kept you hidden, as long as it took until you were spotted by familiar eyes. He didn’t mind, really. Johnny didn’t mind having these secret moments with you, not for the time being.

For the last week, all he could hear was your voice saying, “I don’t want to make you feel like a secret.” And he wanted to keep reminding you that he was okay. He wanted you to be okay; with him, with you, with all of it.

He knew it was only temporary. Johnny hoped it was only temporary. He tugged on your hand seconds before Jaehyun finally saw you. Your eyes were back to him, only him, “You look beautiful.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes and tapping your fingers on the back of his hand, “You said that yesterday.”

“I did. I meant it.” He grinned, “And I mean it, today.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll probably mean it tomorrow, too.”

“Thank you, Johnny.”

“I’ll mean it every time you let me say it.” Again, he squeezed your hand. You didn’t answer and Johnny let go, eyes leaving yours to focus behind you, “They’re here.”

Mark was next to you before you could blink. He saw the way your hand flexed at your side, watched Johnny’s hand go into his pockets and Mark smiled, more to himself, “Here you guys are.”

previous. masterlist. next.

[alastorsfuckassbob]

You're Never Fully Dressed-

Alastorxfem!reader

oh boy everyone's favorite! Please I have never written before, I just figured I'd give it a shot it was 1:35 and I was not feeling sleepy so an hour later here it is, its not edited so SORRY ABOUT THAT- all of my friends are normal and would definitely not proof read this hot garbo!

Basic Plot!! Yikes another song fic i know i KNOWW, the reader knew our good pal Al in her life but oopsies he "left" her (he died duh) and now shes taking a sad hot girl bubble bath to reminisce!!

Lyrics are bolded, past events Italics for the most part.

ALSO Please DNI if you're a minor k thanks bye!! You are responsible for your own internet consumption, so here are the warnings! If you don't want to view that ✨dont✨

Warnings include:

-Swearing

-Violence

-Alcohol Use but not abuse! (its hell duh)

-Abusive Relationships

-Slight Innuendo but not a strong one!

-Angst

The fire danced, flitting left and right. It was different than any other fire set in hell, it wasn't meant to hurt anyone or destroy anything. It was just a small flame, melancholically melting the dripping wax down the white lilac scented pillar. Floral scents were hard to come by unless you made them yourself, it was hell after all, its not like theres a flower garden planted on every corner. The candles single wick didn't produce more than a drop of light. It just flickered every now and then, entertaining its own little lonesome sway. Your demeanor softened as you looked at it from the petal filled bath you currently resided in.

Oddly you felt at peace, understood, almost comforted. You had learned to dance the same way it seemed. You caught yourself when you fell, twisting and turning to please an audience. It was a cruel existence. At least the flame looked content in some way, at least it would never know what it was like to contort under the will of another. Yet it was still a light in darkness, shining for no other reason than to survive...All it could ever do was take, even if it didn't want to, fire needs to burn. To burn it must destroy. You sighed sinking deeper into the bubbly water. You didn't want to think about your past. Not anymore. You didn't have to anymore anyway. Life had not been kind to you and that constant displeasure followed you through your death and into the pits of hell. Funny how suffering could follow biting desperately at your heels and the man who was so "desperately" in love with you in life just couldn't find it within himself to stay...God you sounded bitter. To be fair you were. After all he had ruined your life and he didn't even know it...It wasn't that bad was it? You probably would still be in hell regardless, even without his "involvement" or lack of- you had always been a sinner. It wasn't worth it to be upset, not anymore he's most likely dead, you definitely are, whose to say if he'd even wind up down here. You paused a moment, laughing at the silly conclusion overthinking had led you to.. no that fucker is definitely in hell. Sweet as he was up front, he had a dark side that went much deeper than his soft exterior could cover. You closed your eyes..

1923- Central New Orleans

Suddenly it was 1923. The flower lined streets of late spring in New Orleans. His smile never wavering as he dragged you from store to store. As your dear companion, and biggest supporter, he had asked you to assist him at the radio station. Now that you had finished school you would need a job anyway. You'd always had a beautiful voice and a knack for writing. It just made sense. His hand squeezed yours lightly pulling you from your thoughts. In his hands, he held a burgundy day dress and a matching bow.

"Darling, would you try this on for me? I believe it is high time you were rewarded for all of your hard work. I believe you would simply sparkle in this color"

You smile softly at his gentle tone, taking the delicate dress in your hands. You find yourself caught in his eyes. It feels like you two are the only people on the planet

You feel the familiar sensation of tears on your face, you open your eyes again, you hadn't realized you'd started crying.

you let out the shrill scream you didn't know you were holding in. the fluke of champagne you had so tediously been savoring since you began your bath cracked slightly. You downed the rest of the glass, and grabbed the bottle sitting lazily on the floor. You didn't want to think about him or your life anymore...but it consumed you. You had so many more important things to fret about in your..current..environment. Songs to sing, bitches to kill, people to fuck. A grand glorious array of newer shinier problems, and yet you were stuck sulking about the past. You take a deep breath shaking slightly despite the warm vanilla scented water surrounding you. You remove your hand from the water motioning to the shadow hiding behind a vase (of no more than slightly wilted roses). It slinks forward at your beckoning, climbing to the white marble countertop of your vanity, it clicks the worn down knob of your rickety old radio. light jazzy music trickles out and fills the air with lovesick nostalgia you weren't entirely prepared to let in. No matter what he had done...you would always fall back to him. Even if he was nothing more than ill-fated failed fourteen year "endeavor". fourteen years is quite a long time, even if the majority of it was spent more or less platonically. You really did love him. Love doesn't always follow those that leave, you are testimony and truth to that. You let your mind wander guided by the static filled notes of the radio.

Hey, hobo man

Hey, Dapper Dan

You've both got your style

But brother

You're never fully dressed

Without a smile!

Even through the shudder of the static, it really did sound like him. Despite being the "host" of the station. He had his fair share of performances. For such a Hell bound soul he had the voice of an angel.

You close your eyes once again and allow the melody to take you back to an easier time.

1926- New Orleans, Your apartment

You sing along with whatever tune the radio gives you. You're at peace, simply existing for no other reason than to be with your friend.

"Dance with me my little canary, your voice lights a fire within me"

He pulls you in by the waist. His hands splayed across your hips holding them with a gentleness you'd never expected him to hold for you. He leans his head down against the yours and places a chaste kiss on your forehead

"Alastor" you giggle, the sensation tickling you slightly. "You are quite ridiculous"

"Ridiculous?" he feigns hurt. "My darling I am so far from ridiculous the word does not find sense within my ears" he spins you around and into his chest, you roll your eyes ignoring his antics

"Dearest are you aware you are speaking with the future of radio?"

"The future of radio? Please Love, don't jest. The 20s surely have more in store than you" You laugh into his chest and he shockingly laughs with you.

Neither of you know it but you are both so drunk on the sound. To you, his laugh sounds like the swift church bells that used to ring throughout your home town whenever someone got married. It feels familiar and yet like a distant memory. It makes you want to hear it over and over again until your ears stop working, and even then you'd settle in just fine feeling the vibrations of his chest. He sounds like home. To him, your laugh sounds like the rushing creek and smooth algae covered stones resting deep beneath the trees draped in Spanish moss of his mothers cabin in the woods. Just hearing your laugh he can feel the spotted sunlight speckling his freckled face underneath the big willow tree. You sound like home. Everything about you- it felt like home to him. His hands were crafted to hold soft curves of your body. His ears were made to hear your voice and your voice alone. You were purpose, his home. You don't know it, but it is that realization that sparked the idea of marriage into his heart.

That fire was put out not long after.

You at least had those nine years as his friend, three years as his "copain" if you will- and two years as his fiancée...and so many years alone. You only spent 14 years in the company of this man. You had lived before knowing him a good 17 years, and a good long bit after.

Why were you so stuck?

You hum along subconsciously, the objects in your bathroom begin to glow a familiar pink, levitating slightly in the air as you continue to hum. Your ability isn't weak by any means, but for some reason you were. You were nothing in comparison to hells overlords, especially the newest trio of Vs. Your power is so deeply connected to your voice, how can you hold power when it doesn't belong to you anymore? You drift back to the memory of your arrival. Scared, alone, dressed a great deal less than modestly, and equipped with nothing more than a pair of horns, some wings you couldn't quite use yet, and a thin devil like tail. It was only your third hour in hell. You didn't understand the rules. You were playing a twisted game in which you didn't realize you were just another piece of.

Shock can make a person anxious and fear will make them stupid. He was tall and smelled distinctly of cigars, soured whiskey, and something pungently sweet you couldn't name. It burned your nose as you inhaled it. You would become well aquatinted with the smell of lust in the years to come, you just didn't know it yet. It seemed innocent at first, just a simple contract, no different than a job. All you had to do was sing and dance at a club, in exchange for safety. But it was different and it wasn't innocent. He was cruel and yet no different than so many of the men you had dealt with in life. He agreed to your terms of anonymity and thats about it. You had your private life and his life. Valentino never played fair. You didn't know that yet, and now you're hells favorite sinner, a least no one knew it was you. If he had asked you another day later you would have realized you could have probably fended for yourself, with some difficulty anyway. At least you wouldn't have to be in this mess. You wouldn't be fucking six people before noon. You wouldn't be constantly covered in bruises and scars...Maybe you could have found him, Alastor that is. Maybe you could have at least been friends again. Its silly to hope for anything more since your romantic relationship ended...✨the way it did✨

Your clothes may be Beau Brummelly

They stand out a mile

But brother

You're never fully dressed

Without a smile!

1931- New Orleans, The river

The two of you sit beside each other in a small wooden row boat. Your hair is tied back with your signature crimson ribbon. He fiddles with the pocket of his jacket. The Louisiana soundscape of crickets, frogs and running water accompanies your conversation. Fireflies light up the air, almost bringing the stars down to your fingertips. With a buzz and a gentle green glow, the small creature lands on your hand. Your smile leaks wonderment and Alastor can hardly contain the love he feels for you.

As a Radio Host, he is quite agile in the way of words, yet something about you has him constantly at a loss. He takes a deep breath, unsure of what to say his voice wavers as he begins to speak.

"y/n, I want to thank you for the effect you've had in my lif-"

"My love look at the stars!" You didn't mean to cut him off, Your arms stretched upwards your face turning to meet his. The stars were so much brighter then they were in the city, it was only natural for you to be excited

"Yes doll, I see them, they're the same as they were last night and many many nights before hand"

You let out an impatient huff

"that doesn't make them any less beautiful." a mischievous glint hides in your eyes "now wouldn't it be so dreadfully terrible if I got bored looking at you just because I've already seen you before?" You fake a yawn and look at him eyes seething with boredom

"It would be so dreadful considering I was about to propose to you"

There is no other word to describe what you felt other than shocked. You had been an item for quite some time, but you never figured he would stick around (and "seal the deal" if you will).

Tears begin to run down your face rambling small words of agreement and love. You had never expected him to..love you that way. He was who he was, a dreadfully popular radio host, and you weren't really anything more than an assistant. People really only listened for him..yet in this moment, he was speaking only for you.

"I love you so dearly my y/n. If life without you exists I do not want to exist through it"

Who cares what they're wearing

On Main Street

Or Saville Row

1934: New Orleans, Alastor's house

The house was empty. He was gone. Fully and truly gone. It had been a year since you'd seen or heard from him and six months since the birth of your son. It didn't feel like your house, it didn't feel like your life anymore. It was all still his. His things still bled into your side of the closet, his last purchase, a book, dust encrusted and unread. The blankets and pillows set on the couch exactly as you both had left them after falling asleep to the rain the night before he left wordlessly. You found yourself sporting one of his shirts more often than your own...until eventually they didn't smell like him anymore. The whole house used to reek of his signature vanilla smell. Theres nothing left here but dust and the crooked board of the desk he insisted he could build himself "just fine".

It's what you wear from ear to ear

And not from head to toe

That matters

1936- New Orleans; ✨that shitty bar you performed at✨

"Get the fuck up you bitch"

You felt his hand tangle in your hair and pull you to your knees. All you could do was groan in pain.

"I'm so sorry it won't happen again I promise"

You mutter almost to yourself. He rolls his eyes shoving you into the counter smashing a glass in the process. Your vision blurs for a second seeing the glass shards decorating your h/c locks in a halo. You feel the blood trickle down your forehead.

"Do you think anyone else would hire you? A whore with nothing to her name and a useless ugly bastard child from god knows who?" You feel angered at his words. Insulting you is one thing, but your child?

But then it sinks in, he's right. The 30s are a sick decade, nothing progressive about them. No one else would hire you. You are lucky to work here..despite it all. You tell yourself anything is better than living on the streets. The mantra doesn't dull the pain but it makes it easier to put up with. You don't have a choice. You have a child to take care of.

"Get rid of him"

you stay silent unsure if you heard him correctly.

"Get rid of the boy. I don't care if you leave him in a box on the street or kill him yourself"

He reaches for a small silver knife under the bar's counter. He places it against your throat.

" y/n..You won't like it if I do it dearest, besides you are saving him the shame of having a mother like you. At least if he's adopted elsewhere he has a chance at a half decent life" he took a deep swig from his un-shattered glass of whiskey, looking at you with such deep distain.

You had never hated anyone the way you hated that man..But he was right. You would never be able to give your baby the best life. It would never get better because you couldn't make it better. So you found a young couple not to far from New Orleans, they took him in, and he got to be happy. he ended up living a successful life. He still is. If nothing else theres that. You know your own misery doesn't automatically allow others to be happier, but at times its what keeps you going.

Your mind is flooded with more and more thoughts. Thousands of little memories pilling themselves on top of you. Who would've thought, even deceased, even owned by Valentino, even trapped in an ever so violent place, the real plight of hell would be your thoughts. You light a cigarette and get out of the tub. You throw on a dark red robe and sit on the vanity's counter to brush your damp hair. The song continues into a jazzy interlude before it reprises again

Your clothes may be Beau Brummelly

They stand out a mile

But, brother

You're never fully dressed

You're never dressed

Without a smile

You stretch out your wings in the mirror, looking at your demonic self. No matter how many times you catch yourself in the mirror, even after ten years of this hellish existence. It still strikes you as odd. You look more or less the same. The same hair color and skin tone, although slightly more grey. The tail was just fucking weird no matter how long you had it. The song erupts into the finale distracting you from your thoughts. You begin to sing along with it, smiling softly. It really does sound like him. The same pink glow takes over the room as well as your body, Your eyes begin to glow that same soft pink, your hair floating above your shoulders.

Who cares what they're wearing

On Main Street

Or Saville Row

It's what you wear from ear to ear

And not from head to toe

You're never fully dressed without a smile

The last line comes out much quieter than the rest. A sense of sadness overtakes you once again as you realize how pathetic this whole night turned out. You'd spent the whole night "Simping", as Velvette would say, over a relationship that ended decades ago. Yikes. The static from the radio clicks up a few notches, You cover your ears at the sudden noise. You quickly reach for the dial in order to turn off the device..And then you hear it. You hear him.

"Dearest.." Its almost unintelligible through the static

You think you've finally fucking lost it. Ten years in Hell and you've officially gone "delulu"...another Velvette saying but it feels fitting.

“y/n.”

He called softly, the static in his voice heavy and nearly unreadable.

You almost didn't believe it.

"Y/n" He repeats the static fizzling out leaving his voice raw and almost natural. Fuck this was real. You didn’t respond. You didn’t know how to. You weren't sure if he could even hear you..how he would respond? Would it be worse if he did? It had been an entire decade since you fell, All of this time- he never bothered to contact you. Why now? Why so much later?... Had he forgotten about you? Did he just..die? You cant discern which is worse...that he had left you and your son and lived a long guilt free life...or that he made no attempt to even speak to you in the decade you had inhabited the same existence.

Ok that was all like exposition and shit..considering part two but I AM VERY TIRED RN

[inbloomwriting]

a calm surrender II Roy Kent

Plot: Roy doesn't love her. In fact, he finds her irritating above anything else. And yet he manages to tell her in so many different ways.

Pairing: Roy Kent x female reader

Warnings: A lot of swearing, mentions of food and alcohol. Reader takes Keeley's spot in some plot points - no disrepect to her though she's my favorite.

Notes: This is inspired by a "100 ways to say I love you" List. It’s 8.3k words, It's a big one.

Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please

"It's enough for this restless warrior Just to be with you"

Take my jacket, it’s cold & You can have half

She’s irritating. Everything about her manages to get under his skin. The way she’s always smiling that big radiant smile of hers or the perpetual scent of jasmine and vanilla that seems to follow her anywhere. She laughs too loud, she’s a terrible driver and even worse at parking. The music coming from the physio room is mostly cheesy 80s and 90s pop songs that make Roy want to give himself a lobotomy. She’s irritating in every which way you look at it — and maybe that’s the exact reason why Roy can’t keep himself from looking at her.

Tonight is no exception. For some inexplicable reason, his eyes manage to find her across the room and in the crowd, every single time without fail. It’s not like it’s a conscious choice on his part either. It just happens. That sparkly green dress of her’s just seems to call out to him like the damn light across the bay at the Buchanan’s dock.

And the worst part is that she noticed. She caught his eyes on her more than once, even had the audacity to smirk back at him. During the auction, for a small moment, he thought she might bid on him when her hand just barely twitched and her eyes held a sense of infinite mischief. She didn’t though and for a second he could feel a string of disappointment pull at his heart. Not because he wanted her to bid on him or anything, he just wasn’t particularly fond of the idea of having to spend time with Cheryl Barnaby.

He managed to find her across the room all night — except for right now. Everyone’s on the dance floor. Keeley, Jamie, Ted, even Beard. But not her.

No one’s paying attention to him right now, if he were to just slip out of here, no one will notice.

It’s not like he wanted to be here in the first place. Sure, raising money for underprivileged children is something honorable and he would never let his own disdain for overly glitzy social events get in the way of doing the right thing. Doesn’t mean he has to like it though.

Emptying his glass with one last sip he grabs his jacket from the back of the chair and steps out into the chilly air of a London night.

It’s funny, really, how the moment he stops searching, the green light calls back out to him and she steps into his vision. A glowing beacon of refuge, guiding ships through dark nights to safe shores.

The cold air nips at her skin, sharp and vicious and Roy doesn’t even have to get any closer to her to notice that she’s shivering. He can barely suppress the urge to roll his eyes at her. Of course, she’s cold, she’s only wearing the dress and some flimsy chiffon scarf thing around her shoulders. That’s gonna do fuck all to shelter her from the cold. Irritating. She’s so irritating.

The most irritating part though, is that he can’t help but slip out of his suit jacket. The most irritating part is that he can’t help but care.

“Take my jacket, it’s cold.”

There it is again, that smile of hers. The one he sees sometimes when he’s about to fall asleep. How ridiculous, he thinks, how foolish of him. How absurd it is to fall asleep to the image of a smile belonging to a girl that annoys him more than anything and anyone. (Except maybe Jamie).

“Are you — are you talking to me? Little old me? Are you being nice to me?”

“Jesus fuck, don’t make it weird. I’m always nice.”

She giggles and it’s bloody adorable. So adorable that a smile threatens to pull the corners of his lips upwards. See? Fucking irritating.

“You hardly talk more than 3 words to me when you’re in the physio room but — okay. If that’s your version of nice.”

“Take the jacket or not, I don’t care. I’ll let you freeze out here if you’re trying to be difficult. Means fuck all to me.”

That’s not true. They both know it. No matter how much Roy tries to deny or hide it, there is a soft heart buried inside the rough exterior. He just can’t risk showing that to everyone. Can’t have people getting the wrong ideas.

“No, please I — sorry I’m just — you make me nervous and when I’m nervous I talk a lot and then most of what comes out is just stupid nonsense or deflecting humor or something. I would really appreciate that jacket. It really is fucking freezing.”

Roy has been in the public eye for years now, he’s used to people being intimidated, nervous. Usually, it’s strangers though, people who don’t know him. Those that do, that work with him, usually lose that feeling pretty quickly.

“Why the fuck would I make you nervous?”

She just glances at him before turning her face back towards the street “Have you seen yourself?”

He’s not sure how to take that. Is it a compliment? Does she think he’s handsome? It’s not like it matters to him really. In fact, the thought that she might find him attractive is — say it with me — fucking irritating.

He contemplates asking her outright if this is something she does on purpose. If she’s deliberately trying to rile him up. The words are on the tip of his tongue when he notices her shiver once again and all that was on his mind vanishes against the desperate need to keep her warm.

“Jesus. Let me just — “

Jasmine. Vanilla. He smells it when he slips the jacket around her shoulders. He wonders if his jacket will smell like that, like her, when he gets it back. Wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Not because it’s her or anything — just because it smells fantastic and Roy is not one to deny himself the simple pleasures in life.

“I really appreciate it, Roy.”

And the gratefulness with which she says it is not irritating at all. It’s endearing. It’s flutters-in-his-tummy kind of wonderful.

Instead of reacting like a normal, reasonable person with a simple “you're welcome”, he gives her one of his signature grunts. That’s as good a normal reasonable reaction as anyone can expect from him, really.

“What are you out here all by yourself for anyway? Trying to get kidnapped or something?”

“No,” there it is again, the giggle. Ugh. “ I’m waiting for my Uber. He’s — “She checks her phone, illuminating her face with the harsh blue light. He thinks she looks wonderful either way. Then scolds himself for thinking it. Some simple pleasures he has to deny himself. “ 12 minutes away.”

Roy isn’t quite certain whether or not he considers himself a good person. He tries to be, it’s a conscious effort each and every day. He helps out his sister, he gives in to all of Phoebe’s wishes even if it means having to play the princess yet again and never getting to be the dragon. He donates more money to charity than the press is aware of, leaves hefty tips whenever he goes out to eat and though he does swear a lot, he still tries to be polite if he can.

He tries to be a good person and a good person doesn’t let a woman wait outside in the cold dark night by herself. No matter how infuriating she is.

“Do you mind if I keep you company? Couldn’t live with myself if you got snatched up and I was the last person to see you alive.”

A laugh tumbles from her lips. A step up from a giggle and god does it send shockwaves through his traitorous heart.

“The press would have a field day if that happened. I can see the headlines, ‘Football legend Roy Kent involved in the disappearance of Richmond sports physio’ and then they use a picture of you from like 10 years ago with the really bad long hair that makes you look a little sketchy.”

“I didn’t look sketchy.”

“You looked a little sketchy.”

Roy glances at her through the corner of his eyes. She really is a dream in forest green, the sequins, and rhinestones reflecting the street lights like little kaleidoscopes. He’s almost certain he’ll dream in shades of green tonight. He’s sure he’ll see her smiling face.

“You look beautiful.”

The words fall from his lips before he can stop them and it makes him want to put his head through a wall. Fuck.

“Thank you —” she replies bashfully, “do you want some sausage roll?”

In all the scenarios running through his head of how this conversation could’ve gone, this is not one of the outcomes he expected.

“What?” he asks, one eyebrow raised in question.

“Do you want a part of my sausage roll?” she chuckles and pulls a brown paper bag from her sparkly clutch bag. “I wasn’t sure if they were gonna actually feed us or just serve us rich people portions so I brought backup. You can have half if you want.”

She breaks the flaky pastry in two and holds one piece out to him. Even her nails are painted to match the dress. If he was any worse a man he would risk it all for just one taste of her and whatever black magic she possesses that gets so deeply under his skin. He is a better man than that tough, so he settles for a taste of the sausage roll.

“You’re a strange woman”

“Strange or smart?”

Taking a bite from the sausage roll, buttery and flaky and greasy, he must admit she has a point.

“Bit of both.”

“I can live with that.”

Silence settles upon them, well as silent as a London night can be. It feels weirdly comfortable. No expectations to be someone or do something. Just her and the city and the fucking Greggs sausage roll.

And — Elton John?

“Oh, I love that song!”

A string of pink lights adorns the top of the rikshaw as it turns the corner, loudly blasting Can you feel the love tonight. The driver catches sight of them and Roy can’t suppress the annoyed groan slipping its way out.

“Good evening can I interest you lovebirds in a — “

“No, fuck off!”

Elton’s voice gets quieter and quieter as the startled driver rides his rickshaw further away and back into the inky black of the night.

Lovebirds, he called them lovebirds. Thought the two of them were anything other than acquaintances. People pushed together by circumstances and coincidence. As if anything between them could ever happen. She’s already getting under his skin, sticks around his thoughts, and ghosts through his head without him ever giving her permission to do so. She’s all he can think about lately and yes he knows it sounds repetitive but god it’s so damn irritating.

“I would’ve liked to hear the rest of the song.”

Roy scoffs “Figures.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

He turns to face her and, for the first time since he’s stepped out of the building and into this tiny bubble they’re sharing for just this fleeting moment, he looks at her. Really looks at her. With her sparkly dress and her lips painted a deep red like candy apples. With flakes of the pastry sticking to her lower lip and his jacket wrapped around her looking almost like this is where it’s always belonged.

He’s never had a heart attack before, he wonders if this is what it feels like.

“You play the worst fucking music when you’re working in the physio room.”

“Uh — are you insulting my taste in music? Are you really out here insulting the legend, sir Elton John? The Lion King soundtrack is a religious experience, okay?”

He hates that he can clearly tell by the glimmer of mischief in her eyes that she is joking more than anything. He shouldn’t be able to tell. Mere acquaintances can’t do shit like that.

“No, in fact, it’s a pretty fucking great movie. It came out when my sister was a kid though and I had to watch that shit a million times. You know how traumatizing it is having to watch Mufasa die over and over again?“

She grants him a look of understanding and shrugs her shoulders in agreement “At least it’s not Frozen, eh? “

“I have a 6-year-old niece.”

Roy Kent has a lot of things in his life that he takes pride in. His career and talent, all the hard work he put in to be where he is today. He takes pride in being a good brother and a loving uncle and maybe even a good friend and leader.

Making her let out a snort as she laughs at his Frozen-induced misery? That might be his proudest achievement to date.

“I’m glad you find my suffering amusing.”

“What can I say? You’re a funny guy, Roy Kent. So funny in fact that I almost bid on you at the auction.”

He wants to let out the most guttural scream in the existence of mankind. She can’t just go ahead and say stuff like that. Not when he is trying so hard to keep their interactions at the most basic level. Not when she already haunts his dreams. She’s irritating, Roy. Not charming or lovable or — beautiful. Or maybe she is all those things but most of all she’s annoying and infuriating and — oh he’s so fucked.

“Why didn’t you?”

“Oh, well I’m just a measly sports physician. Don’t get me wrong, it's good money but I don’t really earn quite enough to throw thousands of pounds at a man to have him spend time with me.”

He’d do it for free. Hate every second of it, naturally. But he’d do it for free.

Can’t tell her that though. Never. So once again he just grunts.

A silver Toyota pulls up to the curb, effectively bursting their little bubble of comfort as the driver leans down to look out the window. “You (Y/N) ?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

She makes a motion to slip out of the jacket, only for Roy to step in and hold it closed, keeping it in place, wrapped around her, and shielding her from the cold.

“Keep it,” his voice comes out all rough and husky. More than usual. It’s probably the jasmine scent getting to him, clouding his every sense. “Don’t want you to freeze on the way home. Just give it back another time.”

“Oh, okay. Well, thanks again. Goodnight, Roy.”

He opens the door for her and closes it softly once she’s settled into the car. Roy tries so hard to be a good man, a good person but in that moment all he wants to do is be a little bit worse, just a little bit. Just enough to rip the door open again, pull her out of the seat and kiss her stupid.

Instead, he wishes her a good night and sends her off before stepping out into the night himself. There is a smile playing on his lips all the way home and it’s so fucking irritating.

I was in the neighborhood & It’s okay I couldn’t sleep anyway

The door leading to her apartment is bright red and there is a little white sign and the picture of a dog with huge fucking ears that reminds him of Gizmo from the Gremlins. It says “Beware of the dog — might cuddle you to death.”

It’s cheesy as hell. He loves it.

He’s not quite sure how he ended up here. Losing is never fun. Feeling yourself slowly becoming unable to do the things you love, the things you were good at, and actively playing a part in your team losing? That’s absolutely mortifying.

Of all the places he could’ve gone, all the people he could’ve seen — he ends up in front of her door. Red and shiny like her lips that night.

It’s almost 1am and all things considered, this is a really dumb idea. She’s probably asleep and waking her up would be fucking rude. He should just go and forget this ever happened instead of knocking on her door in the middle of the night. That’s what the rational part of his brain tells him at least.

Roy was never really good at listening to the rational part of his brain.

Tiny barks, no doubt belonging to the dog on the sign, echo through the hallway before the door swings open just enough for (Y/N) to look at him with tired eyes.

“Roy?”

“I was in the neighborhood I — I didn’t mean to wake you. I’m sorry.”

It’s not a lie, really. He was in the neighborhood. He walked here specifically to knock on her door and see her.

“It’s okay, I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

Now that is most definitely a lie. Her eyes are sleepy, her hair disheveled and he can just about make out the pillow print on her cheek.

“Do you want to come in?”

He does. He shouldn’t but he really does.

The apartment is small but it feels cozy rather than cramped. The walls are lined with pictures, little reminders of happy moments and people she loves.

There’s one of him too, well him and Isaac and Sam and then her at the end of the line. He thinks it was taken at some get-together after a particularly hard-fought win. He likes to know that there’s a picture of him on her wall even if his appearance in the photo is probably more incidental than anything.

“I didn’t know you had a dog.”

It’s a stupid thing to say, there is so much he doesn’t know about her. He doesn’t know where she was born or if she has siblings or if she always wanted to be a physiotherapist. But there are things he does know, like the specific way she likes her coffee and that she always gets a snickerdoodle cookie from the bakery down the road from the stadium, every Wednesday without fail. How she scrunches up her nose when she’s frustrated and that she snorts when something makes her laugh really hard.

“His name is Yoda. He’s a papillon and also my best friend.”

“Don’t let Sam hear.”

“Oh, he’s also Sam’s best friend.”

Yoda, it’s a fitting name. He does look like a Yoda.

“So what brings you here, Roy? At uh — “ she glances towards her open kitchen and the digital clock on the microwave “ 1:04 am?”

Should’ve gotten his story straight before he came here. What is he supposed to say? I felt like proper shit and wanted to see your smile? Surely not.

So he blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind.

“Came to get my jacket back.”

Absolute dumbass.

“Your jacket? Oh uh. sure. Let me go get it.”

She regards him with confusion and curiosity, he can tell she’s not really buying his story.

“Or, if you aren’t in a rush, I was about to pop in a movie and pig out on some popcorn? Do you want to join me?”

This might be the first time he lets her see the smile she continues to put on his face.

“Fuck yeah, what are we watching?”

“Vernon is such a little bitch. Antagonizing fucking teenagers? What a loser."

“Right?,” (Y/N) agrees, taking a sip from her glass of rose before stuffing another handful of buttery popcorn into her mouth. “Bender needed someone to care, not just another adult yelling at him. "Such a loser. Hey, now that I think about it, you do give me John Bender vibes. All broody and mysterious.”

Roy just scoffs in response.

Her eyes fall onto his empty glass of wine resting on the little square table in front of the couch.

“You want a top-up?”

“No, I’m good. I should probably get going.”

He hates to admit it, it’s something he’ll take to the grave with him, but there’s something about rosé that gets to him. It makes him tipsy immediately. He doesn’t want to go home but the longer he stays the more he opens himself up to saying something stupid and fucking this up — whatever this is.

“Did you walk here?”

“Mmh.”

“Oh well I can’t in good conscience let you walk home, half a bottle of rosé in your system and dealing with all the emotions brought on by the breakfast club. Couldn’t live with myself if you got snatched up and I was the last person to see you alive”

Throwing his own words back at him should be infuriating, annoying. It isn’t. It’s lovely. She’s lovely.

“You can stay if you want. My couch isn’t the biggest but I think you’ll fit just fine.”

The sincerity in her eyes hits him like a dart to the chest. It’s something so simple as offering him her couch for the night but it means everything for a man who has grown so awfully accustomed to loneliness.

“If I stay, will you make me breakfast?”

“Fuck no”

Laughter fills the tiny living room and it takes him a second to realize it’s his own.

“I might be up for a Starbucks run tomorrow morning before work though.”

“Sounds great. I love peppermint lattes, those are fucking delicious.”

She grants him another smile as she gathers their glasses and the empty bottle and brings them to the kitchen before returning with a fluffy pink blanket for him. He thinks that smile could’ve just about killed him, thinks he might just die right here on her couch and it wouldn’t be so bad.

“Well goodnight, then. Hope you don’t mind Yoda”

The dog is curled up on Roy’s chest like a little bagel. It’s gonna be annoying later, he’s sure but hell will freeze over before he disturbs the little pup.

“That’s fine.”

“He snores, just thought you should know.”

“Makes two of us then, hope he doesn’t mind.”

Another laugh. Another tiny heart attack.

She’s by the door, just about to turn off the light and plunge the room into darkness, when she hesitates for a moment.

“Hey Roy,”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry you guys lost today and I — I can see you struggling but I just wanted you to know that it was not your fault. I need you to know that.”

The entire way here, he tried to make himself rationalize that. Make himself understand that losing is part of the game and that he did his best. But knowing your best might not be good enough anymore is a hard fucking pill to swallow.

Hearing her say that it’s not his fault, it takes the weight off for a moment. Not all the way, never all the way. But a tiny little bit and that’s a whole lot already.

“Goodnight, (Y/N).”

“Night, Roy.”

He falls asleep with the taste of rosé on his tongue, the snoring of a little dog in his ears, and the sight of her on his mind, all sleepy eyes and messy hair. She never looked better.

It looks good on you & I like your laugh

He’s positively buzzing with euphoria. They won, something no one thought was possible. They won and he scored the winning goal.

Spirits are high as the team and their friends have taken over the Karaoke place. Shots and drinks flow with no regard to the tab they’re raking up or the headache that awaits each of them tomorrow. None of that matters right now. Tonight is made for celebrating. Consequences don’t exist right here and now.

Rebecca burns the house down with her rendition of let it go and after a short intermission by Dani, singing a Spanish song that neither of them managed to join in with their non-existent knowledge of the language, the opening chords to another familiar song fill the room.

“Well, thanks for making us all look like amateurs, Rebecca,” (Y/N) says into the microphone as she takes her place on stage. Her words are laced with happiness and laughter and Roy thinks she must have him under some spell because he can’t manage to not smile when she’s around. It’s a bit ridiculous if he’s being honest.

“I will most definitely not be able to live up to that performance but I thought we could stay in the Disney bubble for a moment.”

Her eyes meet his across the room and when she winks at him it takes everything in him not to get up on stage and devour her. Fucking irritating.

“I know you all know this song so sing along if you feel like it. This one’s for you, John Bender.”

He knows it’s one of the cheesiest love songs ever, written for a movie about a cartoon lion. But sitting on the couch at the karaoke place surrounded by his team, having just scored a winning goal and listening to the girl that haunts his dreams sing straight to him and only him, he thinks Elton has a point. He can feel the love tonight. It’s in the smiles of his friends, and the voices coming together all chaotic and off-key singing along to the song. And there is love in her eyes, clear as day and undeniable.

“And can you feel the love tonight How it's laid to rest? It's enough to make kings and vagabonds Believe the very best”

The night is coming to an end, everyone’s found their way to their respective rooms — or whoever’s room they felt like staying at. Roy’s pretty sure he saw Rebecca’s friend enter Ted’s room but that’s none of his fucking business, is it?

“Okay, you can’t laugh though!” (Y/N)’s voice calls out from the bathroom and drifts towards the main part of the room where Roy is perched on the chair by the window.

This isn’t his room and really he knows he shouldn’t be here. But being alone right now sounded like proper torture. He wasn’t ready to leave this magical night behind yet. Not like this. Not when she sang to him and he had nothing to give her in return. So when she invited him to her room to watch yet another John Hughes movie on Netflix, he couldn’t do anything but accept.

“Are you sleeping in one of those weird fluffy onesies?”

“No, god no.”

“Then I don’t know why I’d laugh at you.”

When she steps into the room, he can see why she’d think he’d laugh at her choice of sleepwear. The white shirt looks not so white anymore, there is a hole at the bottom and a mysterious red stain by the collar. It doesn’t make him laugh though. It makes him fucking hard. Because that’s his name on the back of it. That’s a 2014 world cup Roy Kent England Jersey.

“Fuck me.”

He doesn't mean to let it slip but alcohol and euphoria have made his lips go loose.

“I knoooow, it’s embarrassing. I meant to bring something else but it’s just so comfortable.”

“It looks good on you.”

It does. He thought the green dress was it. Then he thought she looked absolutely adorable, all sleepy and natural. But this? This is the look that pushes him over the edge. This is everything.

“Yeah?” she asks and twirls around the room, not unlike Phoebe whenever Roy gifts her yet another new princess dress. He’s just such a sucker, can never say no when she asks him for something. “You just wait and see, I’ll steal your job soon enough.”

That makes him erupt into laughter yet again, he doesn’t think he’s laughed quite as much lately as when he is with her.

“I’ve seen you attempt to play before. I’m not worried.”

“I like your laugh,” she says, all warm eyes and wistful smile.

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

Something takes over, an invisible force pulling him to his feet and making him walk up to her. She’s leaning against the wall as he places one hand on her hip, the other on the wall next to her head. This shouldn’t be happening, he knows this. It’s dumb to believe that whatever tension there is between them can lead to anything. That’s just not in the cards for him no matter how much he wishes for it.

Girls like her don’t fall for boys like him. They never did, they never will.

“Roy Kent, you won today.”

Winning the game is the last thing on his mind right now. How could he ever think about winning right this moment when her hand is softly resting on his cheek and her nose gently nuzzling against his and the —

A knock on the door cuts through the moment making Roy let go and take a step back.

“Fucks sake.”

In his defense, Sam looks apologetic as he stands in front of the door, signature smile on his face. Good-natured and lovable. If this was any other moment Roy wouldn’t have been able to be mad at him. But this is that moment and he is a little pissed right now.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to disturb, I was just wondering if you had another phone charger. I can’t find mine and I know you always bring extra so — “

“Uh, yeah let me go get it real quick.” (Y/N) says and turns back towards the room.

Roy’s eyes connect with hers for a split second and it’s like a bucket of ice straight over his head. They both know whatever magical spell they had been under, it’s broken and gone and all that’s left now is a big old pile of what-ifs.

“It’s getting late, I should leave. Goodnight, (Y/N). Night, Sam.”

“We’ll reschedule, yeah?”

Tiny smile on his lips he nods his head in agreement.

He gets a soft “goodnight” in return and though he hates to admit it, the touch of her hand against his cheek lingers there all the way to his room and even further into his dreams.

Call me when you get home & We’ll figure it out

Rain pounds against the roof and windows like tiny bullets. A rainstorm has Richmond tight in its clutches so cruel and unforgiving the team can’t even train right now.

And yet for some reason Roy still finds himself in the workout room, trying to push himself to do just 5 more minutes on the treadmill. Just 5 more.

Actually, it’s not entirely true. He knows why he’s here. Part of him hopes that if he just pushes himself enough, he can overcome the pain in his leg and all the issues it causes. That if he just tries harder, he can go back to being the talented overachiever he used to be.

But it hurts. A sharp stabbing pain rushes through his knee forcing him to step off the treadmill. He hates this. In fact, it’s his worst fucking nightmare. Football is all he’s ever been good at, he can’t lose that. It’s his entire life.

If he’s not Roy the footballer, who is he? Some bloke named Roy with a dead career and no one to come home to? Now doesn’t that sound delightful?

"Roy?"

“Jesus, fuck!”

There she goes again giving him a heart attack, only this time it’s not because she’s being cute or anything.

“Oh shit, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

The smile on her face falls as she catches sight of him holding onto his knee. He can almost see the thoughts running through her head. She knows about his knee. If anyone knows how bad it is, it’s her. She told him not to overdo it. Said that would only make it worse.

He knows she has pity on him and he hates it. It’s irritating coming from everyone. Irritating and misplaced. Why would they pity him? It’s his own damn fault for not being good enough anymore.

But coming from her? That’s even worse. No one wants a guy that’s getting too old to do his job properly. That’s falling apart and breaking.

— Not that he wants her or anything. Oh, Roy, who are you trying to fool here? Of course, he wants her.

“Don’t look at me like that, I’m fine.”

She raises her eyebrow in disbelief, in that bratty way that drives him crazy.

“I said I’m fine, (Y/N).”

“I hear what you’re saying,” she says and comes to stand next to him, crossing her arms in defiance. “but I can also see the way you’re holding your knee and that face you’re making. You’re in pain, love.”

Love. He doesn’t hate how it sounds when she calls him that. Irritating for sure but also — sweet.

“I’ll be fine! What are you even doing here?”

He hasn’t seen a lot of her ever since the night in Liverpool and while part of him was quite glad about it because he honestly wasn’t sure whether or not to bring up whatever had or had not happened between them, another part of him had missed her smile desperately.

“I work here.”

“You’re a fucking smartass, aren’t you.”

“I try.”

Fuck, even when she’s being deliberately difficult she manages to pull a smirk from him.

“I had some paperwork to do but by the time I arrived here, the storm was so bad that now I have to wait for it to stop before I can drive home. I hate driving when it rains.”

“Oh you should,” Roy returns, nodding his head in agreement “You’re a horrible driver in the best of weather.”

She responds with a scandalized gasp and a hand placed on her heart in mock upset “I am not a horrible driver! Take that back.”

“It took you 18 minutes to park your car the other day. I know because I saw it, we all saw it. Boys took the time and had bets going. Jamie won 20 quid.”

“Wha — okay I’ll have to have a word with the guys, you’re ridiculous. But don’t think you can change the topic on me, Mister. Is your knee getting worse?”

Yes, and he fucking hates it. Can’t even say the words out loud because that feels like admitting defeat. And that’s a terrifying thing to do.

Fortunately for him, he doesn’t have to say anything. A look is all it takes and she nods her head in understanding.

“That’s okay, Roy. We’ll figure something out.”

We will figure something out. We as in him and her. Since pretty much the beginning of his professional career, Roy had admirers. People who would latch onto everything he did or said and hold him to abnormally high standards he would never be able to reach. They adored him but they also didn’t know him. She knows him even when he tries so hard to keep her at arm's length. She knows him and is still in his corner, still has his back. The only people who ever did that were his family.

It’s an unusual feeling but he really really likes it. Even if it’s a little terrifying.

“What if — “ he takes a deep breath, trying to form the words that weigh so heavy on his heart “What if I can’t go back to how it used to be? What if this is the end for me?”

“Do you want me to be honest or nice?”

“Lay it on me then.”

“Things might not get back to how they used to be and there’s not really much you can do about it other than learn to accept it and then figure out a new place for yourself.”

“Football is all I have.”

“That’s not true but even if it was there is so much more about it than just the players.”

She’s right but it’s still a bitter pill to swallow.

“…and with that smile of yours, you can always go into modeling. I’m sure they’re always looking for new faces in the toothpaste commercial business.”

“Oh fuck off.”

“See! There’s that smile I was talking about.”

“You’re fucking insufferable sometimes.”

She is. He adores it.

“Oh, but you like it — right?”

“What?”

“You do — like it? Like me?”

It’s the first time he’s seen her act insecure. She’s always so bubbly and happy and smiling, he hates that he put any doubt in her mind that he does anything but cherish her.

“You irritate me, woman. Drive me up the fucking wall, every day.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No! Don’t say sorry. I love it. I think you’re a fucking knockout. Best thing since sliced bread.”

He does, he truly does and it feels nice to say it out loud for once. To admit it to her and to himself. It feels nice when she comes closer and when she rests her arms around his neck and it feels fucking phenomenal when her nose brushes past his and he can almost feel her lips on his.

Almost.

That’s until her phone beeps and she pulls away altogether.

“Ah shit, I gotta go.”

“Fuck sake. The universe hates me.”

“The universe doesn’t hate you, Roy Kent. We just have bad timing. ”

He’s not convinced.

“What about the storm?”

“I think the rain stopped, listen.”

Roy hears nothing. Where raindrops were drumming against the roof and windows just minutes ago, there is silence. He’s never wished for a rainstorm to persist more than he does at that moment.

“Well, call me when you get home at least. Roads will still be wet.”

“Aw, Roy, are you worried about me?”

His lips say no, but his eyes and his smile tell a different story.

You can stay & Is this okay? Can I hold your hand?

This is it. This is the end. He’s seen this one coming for a while now but he tried so hard. He trained and pushed and it was all for nothing. They’re losing and his career as an active footballer is over for good.

The door to the locker room opens slowly, almost cautiously and he’s just about to yell and whoever dares to disturb him, when his head snaps up and he sees (Y/N) standing in the doorway.

“What are you doing here? Game is still going, you’re the fucking Physio.”

“Good thing there’s more than one of us. I have to make sure all my players are okay.”

I’m not okay. That’s what he wants to say. He wants to scream it from the rooftops. He’s not okay. He’s not sure he ever will be.

“Get out, (Y/N).”

She can’t see him like this. Defeated. Broken. Old.

Instead of listening to him, she sits down beside him and holds an ice pack to his injured knee.

“As a physio, I need to tell you that what you did was really stupid.”

He knows it was. It was a calculated risk he was willing to take and if nothing else, he kept Jamie from scoring and the fans appreciated it. That was all that mattered at that moment.

“But as a friend and Richmond fan, I think it was brilliant. I just wish you didn’t hurt yourself in the process.”

Silence settles over them and (Y/N) is just about to get back up when he grabs onto her arm and pulls her back down. “You can stay.”

“Okay.”

And for a long while they just sit. No words, no expectations. Just them.

Softly, almost like a whisper, he feels her touch against his hand, sliding her fingers between his.

“Is this okay? Can I hold your hand?”

It’s not okay. It’s phenomenal. It’s everything he could’ve wished for in that moment but never would’ve had the nerve to ask. It’s a promise that he isn’t alone in this. There is someone there holding his hand through the darkest of times.

A green light guiding him to safe shores.

“Don’t you fucking dare let go.”

Stay there, I’m coming to get you & I can't wait for tomorrow

Turns out, retiring from a successful football career does not mean you suddenly have a lot of free time. In fact, Roy doesn’t think he’s ever been this busy doing shit he doesn’t like.

Everyone wants an interview, a statement, a “what happens next”. It’s a lot of paperwork and contracts and shit he doesn’t care about. The point is, he’s fucking busy. So busy he hasn’t seen (Y/N) in quite a few days. Nothing has really changed since their moment in the locker room but somehow everything feels different.

It’s exactly 4:12 am when his phone rings. He almost doesn’t want to answer but calls at 4am usually mean bad news and he’d never forgive himself if something happened to his sister or Phoebe or (Y/N) or even (and he will deny this if you ask him about it) Jamie just because he couldn’t be bothered to answer his phone.

“Hello?”

“Royoooo.”

Oh. Oh!

A smirk pulls at his lips.

“(Y/N)?”

“Sorry —” she says and stops for a giggle “Sorry to wake you. I just — I was out with the girls and I didn’t plan on drinking but I did. They had a buy one get one free deal. It would be stupid to say no, right?”

“Right.”

"So, yeah."

“Go on. Didn’t just call me to tell me about the drinks, did you.”

“Oh, no. I just wanted to talk to you while I wait for my Uber. I miss you.”

“Do you?”

“So much!” her words are slow and slightly slurred. “Every fucking day. Like — god, I just wanna see your stupid handsome face.”

“It’s handsome, innit?”

“You have no idea! I just want to kiss you, so badly.”

Kiss him. She wants to kiss him. Sure, it almost happened twice but it’s still different hearing her outright say it. But then again, she’s drunk and by the time she wakes up tomorrow, she probably won’t remember half of what she’s saying right now.

“Where are you?”

“It’s that weird little bar around the corner from Sam’s restaurant. The one with the green door.”

“Go on and cancel that Uber.”

“Then how am I going to get home?”

“Stay there, I’m coming to get you.”

Roy isn’t quite certain whether or not he considers himself a good person. He tries to be, it’s a conscious effort each and every day. He tries to be a good person and a good person doesn’t let the woman he’s absolutely head over heels for wait outside in the cold dark night by herself. No matter how infuriating she is.

“Okay,” she agrees, a giggle slipping past her lips “Thank you. Can’t wait to see you.”

And though Roy had other plans for his weekend than picking up a drunk girl at 4 in the morning, he also can’t wait to see her.

“…and like it was mostly sugar, right? So I thought why not have another one. Turns out it was mostly vodka.”

“Who could’ve guessed.”

She’s cuddled up on his couch in one of his shirts looking into his eyes and retelling her night in vivid detail. Her story is slurred and a bit all over the place, blame it on her tipsy brain. It takes her forever to get to the point and when she does, the point doesn’t even make all that much sense. It doesn’t matter, he’d listen to her ramble forever if it meant he got to spend time with her wearing his shirt sitting on his couch — looking into his eyes.

“You’re going to feel like shit tomorrow.”

“I know,” she shrugs then scoots closer to him and wraps her arms around his “but you’re here so it’s only half as bad really.”

“If I’m feeling generous I’ll even make you breakfast.”

“You really are the dream, Roy Kent.”

She’s clawing at his chest, prying open his ribcage and burying herself where his heart used to be. Metaphorically speaking, of course.

“You have to stop saying shit like that. People are gonna think you’re in love with me or something.”

She pulls away slightly and looks up at him with those big eyes of hers before resting one hand on his cheek.

“Roy, I am. I thought you knew.”

He had a hunch, of course. Fostered a spark of hope in his heart that there could be something between them after all. But once you grow accustomed to loneliness it’s a little hard to let yourself believe.

“Do I need to show you to believe me?”

She pulls his face closer to hers and for a millisecond he wants to let go, but when he smells the alcohol on her breath he pulls back. This isn’t right.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“You’re off your tits. I’m not kissing you like this. Our first kiss is not going to be some inebriated tongue-wagging. You hear me? I’m a hopeless fucking romantic, that kiss is gonna be special. I’m gonna kiss you stupid.”

She bites her lips to suppress the smile from taking over.

“So if I were to ask again tomorrow, you’d say yes?”

“Mh.”

“Promise?”

“Yes.”

At that she snuggles further into his arms and rests her head against his shoulder, a content smile on her face as she closes her eyes.

“Oh, I can’t wait for tomorrow.”

He doesn’t admit it, but neither can he.

I think you're beautiful & I’ll meet you halfway

“Roy?”

Her voice echoes through his house as the eggs sizzle on the stove.

“Why is there a small child looking at me?”

“Phoebe, stop staring at her you little creep!”

“She’s so pretty.”

She has a point.

10 minutes later the girls join him in the kitchen, walking in hand in hand and big smiles on their faces. Seeing them get along makes his heart grow approximately 12 sizes. That being said, the two of them teaming up against him sounds like trouble to him. Good trouble though. Trouble he loves to deal with.

“Good morning, Roy.”

“Morning. Pheebs, go sit down, breakfast is almost ready.”

“Okay, Uncle Roy.”

Once she’s out of the immediate earshot he turns back towards (Y/N). Though she tried her best to conceal it, yesterday's makeup is still smudged around her eyes and her hair is a downright mess. She’s wearing his shirt though, standing barefoot in his kitchen after bonding with his niece.

Sometimes life is fucking sweet.

“Don’t look at me like that, I know I look like a mess.”

“I think you’re beautiful.”

“You’re delusional.”

“That’s not what you said last night. Think you called me the fucking dream if I recall correctly. Said you were in love with me.”

(Y/N) leans against the kitchen island, her hands flat against the countertop and her eyes trained on Roy.

“I did say that, didn’t I?”

“Yes.”

Roy mirrors her position, arms resting on the kitchen island across from her. God, she really is so beautiful.

“Remember what you said?”

“Do you?”

“You promised me something, Roy.”

Roy Kent doesn’t make promises lightly. He thinks there’s hardly anything quite as heartbreaking and awful as breaking a promise. He prides himself in keeping all the ones he’s made.

It’s only right to keep this one too.

“Phoebe,” he calls out to the little girl without moving his eyes away from (Y/N) for even a second “Blindfold!”

The 6-year-old slaps her tiny hands over her eyes obeying her uncle's orders with no hesitation and no questions asked. He’s proud of her. Silly little idiot.

Leaning across the counter, his lips almost reach (Y/N)’s. She’s so close. So close.

Only —

“Fuck, I can’t reach. My knee.”

There’s so much love in her eyes as she regards him. It almost knocks him out.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll meet you halfway,” She says and gets up on her tiptoes.

Across the counter their lips meet. There are no fireworks or butterflies or an angel choir singing. But there is her tasting of toothpaste and smelling his deodorant. Her and the feeling of belonging. Of comfort and domesticity and love. He loves this woman, undeniably and irrevocably.

It’s a great kiss. Fucking mindblowing. There is no need for rom-com-induced fairytale fantasies when you have the real thing and it is so much better than any story could ever be.

“Hey Roy,” she whispers against his lips as they come up for air.

“Hmm?”

“The eggs are burning.”

“Fuck!”

“You owe me a pound, Uncle Roy!”

Irritating! Both of them.

They’re his whole entire heart.

I love you & I love you

“I love you.”

It’s a normal fucking Tuesday when she says it for the first time. Really says it. Using those exact words. There’s nothing special about that day but with those words, she puts magic into it. The way she puts magic into his life every single day.

“Fuck you!”

“Sorry, what?”

She’s laughing. She’s always laughing and smiling that goddamn smile that makes him go all soft inside. Beautiful, lovely, knockout that she is.

“I said fuck you. I’ve been thinking about how to tell you all fucking week and here you go and say it first. You’re infuriating.”

Softly she rolls over so she’s resting on his chest, fingers softly tracing patterns into his skin.

“You’ve said it a million times before, Roy.”

“I love you, (Y/N).”

Can’t hurt to say it again.

“I know. I knew. I always knew. From the moment you gave me your jacket.”

Of course, she knew. She took one look at him and it was like she got a view straight into his soul. Straight into his heart with all the vices and virtues, all his triumphs and defeats. All the good and the bad.

How fucking irritating. He loves her for it.

[vintagepresley]

I don’t want to be this person. But I feel like that new Elvis confessions account on here is just a gateway for people to start drama and spew their hate for people in this fandom and how others choose to love Elvis or how they write about Elvis and to basically shove down our throats how to be an Elvis fan “the right way”.

I just saw one of their recent posts about basically the fandom not being the same and how people don’t care about him and how people used to talk about his music and movies. Now people in the fandom only care about writing smut about him and don’t even know his songs or movies. Then saying how calling him “big daddy” is disgusting.

Huh? What? I don’t know what part of the fandom this person is on but we are constantly talking about his music and movies. I feel like most of the people in this fandom have seen all of his movies. But also some can’t depending on where they live in the world so it could be harder for them to watch them. He’s got so much music to listen like you can’t be mad if EVERYONE hasn’t heard every single fucking song. There’s actually some people who just joined and are still learning. It’s not that serious. Stop acting like you weren’t once new to being an Elvis fan.

Why are we acting like people haven’t been writing so much smut stories about him since 2022? Before I even joined the fandom here I was literally reading soooo many smut stories about him around that time. I don’t think that’s changed. There’s so many different stories besides smut. If you don’t like smut guess what? DON’T READ IT BABE. Keep scrolling. There’s so much variety when it comes to Elvis fanfics. It’s not just smut.

Then onto the big daddy thing. That didn’t just become a thing. It’s been a thing for the past two years. How is it disgusting? Lmao. It’s never that serious and honestly no one is being disrespectful when they use that term. That man has big daddy energy. That is never a bad thing, lol.

I swear. People don’t know how to just enjoy things and not taking things so seriously and constantly complaining about literally everything. Why can’t people just enjoy things? I feel like I constantly speak up about this because I’m so tired of people telling people how they should love Elvis or how there’s a wrong and right way. I’m so tired of people making others feel like they don’t belong here. We all love and respect Elvis. We all love learning about him in every aspect of his life. So many of us do so much research and constantly read books on him because we DO see him more than just a “pretty face” more than just an “aesthetic”. He’s a huge part of our lives and we all in some way have a story about how he’s impacted us or what he’s done for us. Doesn’t mean we can’t joke about things or like make unhinged posts. Life doesn’t always have to be taken so seriously.

Lighten up. Elvis would be bothered by how uptight some of you are.

Thank you for coming to my Elvis ted talk. ☺️

[thefallennightmare]

Miracle-eight

(gif created by me, the fallen nightmare. feel free to use, simply give credit)

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings/Tropes: forced proximity, slight enemies to lovers, slow burn, smut, angst, fluff, mentions of death, and swearing.

Summary: Reader is the merch girl for Bad Omens. It wasn't what she wanted to do with her life but when her mother got sick with Alzheimer's, reader took a job where she could to help with the costs. She thought it would be a one-time gig but the longer she was on the road with them, the harder she fell for Noah Sebastian; even if he wanted nothing to do with her. She needed a miracle to save her mom and her future.

Author Note: things are about to get REAL intense so buckle up!

Tags: @ada-clarence @nonamessblog @thescarlettvvitch @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @theoneandonlykymberlee @yumikitten @blackveilomens @cherrymedicine13 @thebadchic @notmaddihealy @jay02bo @beaker1636 @jakekiszkasguitarpick @punk-pr1ncessxoxo @er3nslovergirl @iamdesolate @lma1986 @jessitpwk @themodern-daywednesday @writethrough @bngurngheart @dreams-that-are-anwsered

Holy shit, I give Bryan so much damn credit. He does this almost every single night and I've only been hopping around back and forth in front of the stage to get random clips or videos of the guys set for one night. At first, I was nervous to tell Bryan about my promotion because I felt as if I was stepping in his territory with taking pictures but he was ecstatic. Even offered to show me how to work the camera that I'd bought for my other content. I remembered how red in the face I'd gotten when he asked if I'd always been interested in photography when he saw the type of camera I had. Obviously I didn't tell him the real reason I had to buy it.

"It was a gift from an aunt," I lied.

My eyes glanced away from my camera over to Noah as he finished the last line of Like a Villian and snapped a few photos of him from different angles. I wasn't great at editing pictures, something else Bryan offered to help me with, but I still could tell what was considered a good shot.

I stood in front of the barricade and the crowd behind me screamed for the guys, absolutely thrilled that they could see them live even when the festival was canceled. It was the last-minute show that I pulled together and the small venue we were in was packed full of fans.

After our early dinner, before the show and after Noah fingered me under the table, we played oblivious to what happened. I hated we didn't talk about it because all I thought about while I was getting ready for the show tonight was if Noah and I were dating or if we simply were messing around. Even though I didn't want a relationship right now because of everything going on with my mom, I also didn't want us to be a casual hook up whenever one of us were horny.

I knew I needed to talk to Noah about this; it wasn't good to keep everything bottled up because it would only fizzle over before exploding. But the part of my heart that has genuine feelings for him was afraid of getting hurt if I found out he only had sexual feelings for me.

"How are we feeling tonight, Cleveland?" Noah asked the crowd.

Their screams echoed loudly around me as I took a few pictures of Nick before walking over toward Jolly to get a few pictures of him. I made a mental note to get back on stage to get a video of Folio drumming when Noah's voice stopped me in my tracks right to the side of him. I was on the floor but still only a few feet away from him.

"Before we play our next song, I want to give a shout out to someone special. She was the one who set up the pop up event earlier today and put this whole show together," Noah waved a hand around, showcasing the sold-out crowd.

The crowd cheered again as I gulped, not knowing where he was going with this.

A smile graced his face as he pulled the microphone closer to his lips. "She's someone that's been with us for two tours now and she's become a great friend to us."

I narrowed my eyes at him as ours locked.

"What are you doing?" I mouthed.

Noah ignored me, only giving me a smile and a small wave, even under the dark stage lights his eyes burned bright.

"You might recognize her as our merch girl but recently she became our social media ambassador so whenever you guys send us weird D.M's, just know she's the one reading them."

The crowd laughed at that, and I couldn't help but chuckle as well.

"But in all seriousness, she deserves this. Lets give Y/N a huge scream of thanks for putting all of this together."

Now the screams were deafening, and I tried not to sink into myself as people in the first few rows noticed me standing there. I gave a tiny wave to the crowd before snapping back over to Noah.

"Fuck you," I yelled up at him, no hint of malice behind it.

Noah winked. "You know if I'm being honest. I didn't think she could pull it off, so we made a bet. If she was able to, she'd get to design my next tattoo."

Some people in the crowd hooted and hollered at that.

"So if you see me with a tattoo of her name or some shit like that; that's why."

Before I could crawl into myself even more for having the spotlight on me, they started up into the next song, and letting my camera hang from my neck; I walked up the back of the stage up to the platform where Folio's drums were and watched in awe as he let himself go, being the beat that everyone followed. It was a true experience being able to watch him. I took out my phone to record a video of him to post on the Bad Omens Instagram story and when he finally noticed I was there; he winked after I took a few pictures of him with my camera, I walked down the stairs of the platform thinking of what I could get for the final shot of the night. I had a lot of close-up shots of Nick, Folio, and Jolly but none of Noah.

Biting my lip, I snuck up being him not to get in his way of performing, and as he sang the last few lines of Just Pretend, the lights in the venue went dark. The only source of light was from the flashlights of the fan's phones and seeing how ethereal Noah looked, I snuck up beside him to take two quick pictures.

He peered at me with a sideway glance as the corner of his lip lifted in a sly smile and once I was satisfied with all the pictures I took tonight I walked off the stage to the back. Noah, however, hooked a finger in the belt loop of my jeans and yanked me back towards him.

"Would you say I'm worthy?" he sang the last line, the lights fading around us.

I couldn't see anything in front or around me but I could feel Noah's presence behind me. His warm breath fanned across the back of my neck as mouth pressed gentle kisses there.

"Angel," he mused. "Do you know how beautiful you look tonight?"

His hands gripped my hips, and I shivered with his touch as he led us to the side of the stage where the rest of the guys were waiting. They would hang out for two minutes before going back on for their two song encore; Concrete Jungle and Dethrone.

I was turned in his embrace and saw the huge grin spread over Noah's soft features. Sweat glistened his body all over and his hair clung to his forehead.

Fuck, he looked so good.

My fingers raised to brush the hair back, but I stopped myself. Noah noticed, and he gave me a confused look.

"Everything alright?"

As much as I wanted to talk to him about us, I didn't want to do it before he was about to go back on stage.

"Yeah, you just took me by surprise is all with what you said."

"It's true," he shrugged. "Before when you were at the merch table, I could barley see you but now that you're so close to me, I couldn't stop watching you all night."

A blush painted over my skin and I cast my gaze downward, not wanting Noah to see how much his words affected me; although, I had a feeling he already knew. This was becoming more of a problem than I liked. I was allowing him to inject himself in my bloodstream, infect me with his presence and it would hurt me in the end. Whether it was because I ended things or he realizes that the problems with my mom were too much to deal with. I need to focus on my mom and now this huge step in my career, I couldn't let myself get blinded or involved with someone I worked with.

Too late for that.

The crowd was cheering for one more song and I knew they would run back out on stage in less than ten seconds.

"Angel," his finger brushed along my jaw. "What's wrong?"

My lips parted, but no words came out, unsure what to say. This wasn't the time and Jolly could tell as he watched us so he adjusted his guitar before slapping Noah on his shoulder.

"We have to go."

I nodded behind Noah. "I'm fine."

His eyes searched mine, fingers still gripping my chin. "You're sure?"

"Yep," I lied while patting his chest. "Go fight God; I'll see you guys back on the bus."

With a chuckle, Noah's fingers slipped away from me and I watched the four of them run back out on stage for the encore part of their song. I could stay and watch but there was no need to hang back anymore. They gave me the choice if some nights I wanted to help the crew take everything down I could or I could head back to the bus early to rest or do whatever I wanted.

I know I should hang back to help tear everything down but right now, all I wanted was a bit of solace on the quiet bus away from everyone.

"Oh, god not that one," I muttered to myself as I browsed through the pictures of my phone.

I should look at the ones I took tonight, but I was looking at more risqué pictures. Tonight, Lana's second payment was due and as usual, I was short. Even with being promoted, I wouldn't get paid until the tour was over. So, the only thing I could do was ask Lana if she was fine getting the payment a few days later than normal and thank fuck she was.

Take your time, dear. We're all good over here.

Even though I was alone on the bus, I couldn't risk recoding something in case someone walked on so instead I took a handful of different pictures. These, though, were way more revealing than I usually take. One was in the bathroom on the bus; I was bare from the waist down with my pussy in full view but kept my Bad Omens t-shirt on, rolling it up from the bottom until it stopped over the middle of my breasts. You could see half of them, but the nipples were covered. My phone blocked my face, which was something I still wouldn't forget, and I took a few different angles.

The next set of pictures were of me laying in my bunk, now wearing a black thong but now the shirt was off, and I had my hand resting over one breast while the other was bare for the camera.

As I was still deciding, Folio came bounding up the stairs of the bus, his energy radiating off of him. When he saw me scrolling through my phone, he sat down and took my phone from my grasp.

"Are those the pictures from tonight?"

"Folio, no!" I bellowed while reaching for my phone.

I fell onto his lap, my chest pressing against his hips and he stiffened when he realized what he was staring at; the picture of me in the bathroom mirror.

"Woah," was all he said.

I groaned in embarrassment as rolled over in his lap now looking up at him and snatched my phone back.

"Please forget you saw those."

Folio stared ahead as he blinked a few times, almost processing what he saw before his gaze fell on me. Something twitched beneath me and when I realized what it was, I sat up with a start staring down at his dick, which was semi hard.

Oh God.

"This is so embarrassing," I covered my face with my hands.

Folio let out a low chuckle before slowly removing my hands.

"Who were you sending those to?" He wondered.

I quickly shook my head. "No one."

A small noise sounded from the back of his throat as he adjusted himself on the couch, still clearly affected by seeing my half nudes.

"If it makes you feel better, I like the one in our shirt the best," Folio grinned.

I smacked his chest. "You can't tell anyone about this, please. I already feel weird about taking them and now that you saw them, it's going to make things weird between us."

"You're the only one that thinks that, Y/N. And if you feel weird about taking them, then why did you? From what I saw, you have nothing to worry about."

My eyes narrowed at Folio in a playful glare; it was very clear that he indeed liked what he saw.

"If I wasn't mortified by you seeing my nudes, I'd take that as a compliment."

His brow raised in amusement. "Were they for Noah?"

"Hell no. He can never know about these or even see these, understood?" I pointed a finger to him.

"I won't tell him but I can't promise that I'll forget what I saw," Folio winked before get up from the couch and headed back to his bunk.

I was still burning up when Nick, Jolly, and Noah came onto the bus and when the latter's eyes fell on me, he reached for my hand.

"What?" I stared at it.

Noah lifted me from the couch and dragged me to the back area of the bus so we could have some privacy. He was still wearing his stage clothes, and I marveled at the tattoos that peaked through his blank tank top. Once alone, he let the door shut behind us as he fell to the larger couch in the room; me falling into his lap.

"What are you doing?" I asked while trying to sit next to him instead.

Noah's fingers dug into my hips to lock me in place. "I think we need to talk."

With a sigh, I nodded. He was right and as much as I didn't want too, this had to be done. Still in his lap, I positioned myself so I could look directly in his brown eyes.

"This," I pointed between us. "What is this?"

I could see with the look that flashed over his face that Noah was trying to figure out the best words to describe us.

"I'm not sure what to call it but I like what we have going. I don't want it to stop," he admitted.

"What changed, though? Last week it seemed like being around me was like pulling teeth," I said.

Noah sighed and wrapped his arms around me to pull me into his chest. "I tried to stay away from you because I thought it was a bad idea to get involved with someone on the crew and with what happened in Chicago, I took it as an opportunity. But the harder I tried to forget about you like that, the deeper you sunk your claws into me."

My heart shuddered in my chest.

"Can we maybe take things slow? Maybe see where this goes. I can't have a relationship right now. There are some things going on in my life that needs my attention, especially once I'm home," I explained.

I didn't miss the hurt look that shined in his eyes but Noah nodded. "I can wait, angel."

He was not making this easy.

This time, I extracted myself from his grasp and stood on my feet, giving us some distance.

"I can't ask you to do that," I said.

"You're not. Whatever you've got going on, I want to be here for you," Noah assured.

Tears brimmed in my eyes as I let out a long shaky breath. "It's a lot and I don't want to push you away again. If I'm being honest, I've wanted this from you for so long and now knowing you feel the same, I'm afraid."

He was on his feet fast to press me against the wall with his hips. Noah's large hands pinned mine above my head then he buried his face deep into the skin of where my shoulder met my neck. I let out a mix of a whine and moan when his rutted his hips into mine.

"Angel, I'm not going anywhere."

I gave a half nod, understanding, but I couldn't really focus with the way his cock pressed against my lower abdomen.

"This," I panted. "Isn't slow."

Noah hummed as he left a small mark on the skin behind my ear and I nearly melted into him.

"You're going to kill me," he breathed before pulling away from me, my hands falling to my sides. "But we can take things at your pace. If you want to hang out and watch a movie or something, I'm here. Or if you need help with other things, I'm here."

I linked my fingers with his and brought them to my lips to kiss the tattoos on the back of his hand.

"Thank you, Noah."

With a fond smile, he led me out of the room to the front of the bus where he motioned for me to sit at the table.

"Want some tea?" He asked.

I smiled. "Please."

I then sat at the table across from Jolly and Folio. Still embarrassed by him seeing my nudes, I refused to meet Folio's amused gaze and kept my own on my phone. I was turned away from everyone so no one could see me as I uploaded a few pictures to my Only Fan's page. I needed these pictures up as soon as possible to start making money.

"So are you excited to go back home for a few days?" Jolly asked.

"Oh shit. I almost forgot!" I beamed.

Bad Omens had a two-night show in Los Angeles, where we headed next. Then after those two nights, we would head up to Washington. With everything that had been going on lately, I forgot to mention to Lana that I could stay home those nights with my mom.

"We can book you a hotel for you if you want," Folio said.

"Or you could stay with someone," Noah piped up from behind me.

I glanced over my shoulder at him. "Slow, remember?"

He bent low to leave a kiss on my forehead and my eyes fluttered shut. "I'm only kidding."

"My mom's excited to see me so if it's alright, I'll stay at my place," I said.

Noah's lips twitched before he nodded. "Sure."

Seeing that the pictures uploaded to my site, I stuffed my phone back into my pocket and talked some more with Jolly, not realizing that Noah's phone went off with a notification or the way he adjusted himself in his pants when he looked at the screen.

[buttercream-princess]

Modern Will Turner fluffy & spicy head canon x blackfem! Reader

Warnings: Light smut, pregnancy kink, swearing, fluff, edging, mentions of your family members, tattoo's, spanking

(Not edited or proof-read)

Note: I write most of my characters in modern settings, so this won’t be any different. I may write about him in POTC in the future but that’s something I need to chop up. Also first time writing a headcannon, this was fun making, I'm looking forward to doing some more for Will/Legolas/Orlando.

— Will is very attentive and never misses a single thing. Anything you have interest in, he’ll use his own bare hands to recreate it for you. You like candles? Here’s 1kg worth of candles in all your favorite scents. You like plushies and stuffed animals? Build a bear has nothing on Will’s craftsmanship, he made a lifesize teddy for you to cuddle when he’s not around. He’ll even order parts for his creations from overseas, no matter the price tag, to give you the perfect gift.

—- Adding onto how crafty he is, you never have to worry about breaking anything because Will is always happy to fix it for you and he always does so, effortlessly. He’s tactile and amazing with his hands.

—- He knocked down a wall in his house between his office and guest bedroom, renovated the room, painted the walls your favorite colors and furnished it with all your favourite things including a wall hung TV, neon lights, a pink desktop and plants. Just so you can have your own space when you’re at his house. He wants you to feel like his home is yours too.

—- He loves going to IKEA with you, it’s like a playground for him to find things to build for you and your room. When you get Hotdogs in the food court with him later and get mustard on your face, he’ll grab you by the chin and lick the sauce off. Anytime you get food on your face, he does this. Why wipe it off when he can just clean it off you?

—- Will’s intelligence is unlike anyone you’ve met before, but when he’s not using his head, he’s a bit of a himbo, giving off strong Kenergy. He might know how to solve enigmatic riddles quickly and build houses from scratch but he’s clueless when it comes to most general things. He’ll always regard you as the smarter one in the relationship. In his mind you’re everything and he’s just Will. He adores you that much.

—- He has a tattoo of your name and a blue butterfly next to it on his hip bone. This man is whipped. Gone and lost in your love. He’s considering getting your initials tattooed behind his ear.

—-  Will’s independent by nature but gosh, he is one needy motherfucker, but in the most adorable way. He’s coming with you to run errands to the beauty store, late night Target trips or waiting in the corner of the salon while you get your nails done. And he’s always paying, he never lets your credit card touch the reader.

—- Will can listen to you talk for hours about your life and yourself. He finds everything about you whimsical, enchanting and seductive. Even if you’re babbling about delusions and made up scenarios, he’ll react with big emotions like it’s happening right in the moment just because he loves you that much.

—- Will collects records that you love listening to. He says, “The record is always better than streaming it.”

—- Will use to only listen to symphonies and classical music before you came into his life. Now, he listens to everything you listen to. He’s fallen in love with Neo-soul and R&B and refuses to listen to anything else.

—- His favorite song is “Stay Ready (What A Life) by Jhene Aiko and forever dedicates that tune to you. Whenever the song plays, he always sings to you, “They say the truth ain't pretty. But comin’ out that pretty mouth the truth is fitting. Cuz you ain't never talkin loud and you know plenty. Yea you know what I'm talkin bout, cuz you just get me, Yea you so pretty”, And he means every word of it. That song was written just for you, he believes.

—- Even though you and Will are just dating and don’t have kids, he always refers to you as “His wife” or “Mother of my children”

—- Will’s favorite part of being intimate with you is undressing you. There’s something about seeing you come undone only and all for him, that makes him want to be closer to you, underneath your skin even.

—- Will love’s quickies and to give you a quick orgasm in the middle of the day. But there’s nothing he loves more than giving you a sensual, candle lit, slow jam’s experience. After a long day at work, expect Will to be ready for you with a bottle of aromatherapy bottle oil, ready to iron out all your tight muscles and kinks. And of course, this massage always leads to him giving you and internal rub down too. 

—- Will edges you any chance he gets. Sometimes you just wanna snatch your vibrator off him and hit him with it because he won’t let you cum. But he always lets you finally get off if you ask him kindly. He likes manner’s in the bedroom.

—- He has a pregnancy kink. He always moans about putting a baby in you while having sex. So you can imagine he always wants to do it raw. He always begs for you to wrap your legs and arms around him while he cums.

— He gives you warnings in the bedroom if you’re rushing the pleasure too quickly. Will believes pleasure should be savored and reveled in. Greedily chasing your release and out of warnings? That’s a hard pop to your behind, leaving your cheeks red and sore. But he quickly runs his hand over your skin, soothing you. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. See what happens when you don’t listen? Hmmm?” he murmurs in your ear before sliding two fingers back in you.

—- Only with you, Will reveals how intimidating he is in the bedroom. But in front of others, he’s the most kind respectful gentleman anyone has ever met. All your friends and everyone in your family loves him. He quickly picks up on social dynamics and easily blends himself into the environment as if he was always a part of it. You can find Will at family barbecues, bonding with your uncles over different cuts of meat and taking over the grill, which your father never allows but Will’s charmingly convincing.

—- Will always plays house and dress up with your younger family members. He takes it seriously too. You best believe he’s rocking a blue lid and red lippie with confidence after playing makeovers. 

—- Will comes with you to all your social events, he just loves being around you and hyping you up in all settings. You can find him at clubs, bars and music festivals, right behind you, jamming out and spreading the good vibes. He’s even buying you and your girls rounds of bottomless cocktails at brunch.

—- Will’s a fencing prodigy, of course. He also practices MMA. His strength, determination and will is unmatched. You love sitting in the audience of his matches when he’s given trophies, standing the breathless, T-shirtless and sweaty, dressed in his little fitted shorts showing all his business, knowing that’s all yours.

—- After matches in the ring or on the mats, Will just wants to cozy himself up under your shirt, cuddling you and weakly lying against your skin. 

[originallandlockedmariner]

I’m nothing special.

I’m just flawed and weak as the next person. I let my emotions get the best of me at times. I’m not perfect. I read old messages looking for clues. I listen to old playlists of sad songs when I’m sad. I swear too much. Drink too much. I can be selfish and impatient. I’m a sarcastic asshole for alarmingly long periods of the day. I regret choices I’ve made, words I’ve said in anger, people I’ve let down. I’m no role model. Wow, there’s an understatement. But every day I own my shit. I’m accountable and humble. Every day, I try to just be a little bit better than yesterday. Becoming who you are is a life long journey, baby step after setback after stumble after lesson learned. Forever forward. Green and growing as they say.

I wake up and look at those four framed sentences. “Be impeccable with your word. Don’t take anything personally. Don’t make assumptions. Always do your best.” Simple and yet powerful.

Every day, I’m trying to see things differently. Gain perspective. Embrace not taking every single thing personally. Getting cut off in traffic, not personal. Waiting forever in line for coffee, not personal. It is an uphill climb getting comfortable with the concept that nothing others’ do is directly because of you or to upset you. People do what they do because of themselves. That’s it. Even when they treat you awfully or take you for granted, it has more to do with what’s going on with them than you. *insert lecture about Attribution Error.

As for assumptions, I kinda have a PhD in that field. Never met a situation, never had a conversation, never waited for a text, that I couldn’t attach an assumption to. Assumptions are generally born from misunderstanding and a fear of asking questions. Fear of what might be said. We lack courage to inquire so instead we stand back and fill the void with the worst. Draw from our past pain and create a narrative. I’m trying to break that cycle. Ask more questions. Communicate. Be clear and upfront. I can no longer assume others know what I mean or want and then get upset when they don’t act accordingly. It’s unfair to them and only serves to hurt me in the process.

I’m making integrity part of my daily practice. Speaking with integrity. Actions with integrity. And above all, avoiding the trappings of believing my own landslide of bullshit, being my own worst enemy, and justifying every blunder. Be better. Sidestep gossip and small talk. Apologize when you hurt someone. Accept that you’ll be wrong sometimes. Or in my case, a lot. Do what you say you’ll do. Character isn’t built upon what you said you’d do, but what you rolled up your sleeves and actually did.

As for always doing my best, I’m still figuring out what that animal looks like. I strive to be helpful, but sometimes when you’re always available, they take you for granted, not because they are selfish or unkind, but because they think you’ll always stay. Let them miss you for a while. This goes against everything I am but makes sense. I’ve also learned that there is no shame in being broken and anxious and sad. Be whatever you are right now. No need to make excuses or try to minimize the hurt, deny the confusion. You cannot learn about yourself if at first you aren’t frustrated and confused, the hard questions are born from this. You cannot heal without first being damaged. So be broken and anxious and sad. Cope however you need to; as long as you need to, for there is no instruction manual for this, we all make it up as we go along. Day by day and more often, minute by minute. So as for my best, I guess it is just knowing that when I put my head on the pillow, I gave all that I could, was kinder than I needed to be, inspired a few, and made sure the garage door is closed.

I’m nothing special. But I didn’t lose my shit on the drive into work, didn’t assume sporadic texts were anything but a busy day, and a couple people told me that they are grateful for me - so I’m gonna just go ahead and chalk today up as a win.

@originallandlockedmariner

[yoonzinuhh]

what kinda future ?

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 : seungcheol x reader

𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲 : fluff,romance,angst,possible reincarnation

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 : mentions of death

𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 : for entertainment purposes only. might sound so dramatic and rushy but i rlly love this tbh. and yeah it’ll just have 2 parts ! thanks @asyre !!

the first time when he saw you,the girl of his dreams. girl of his dreams as in literally. his dreams always had the same pattern.

him as a knight climbing up the balcony to meet the princess,the love of his life. her voice and laughs were like a melody to him,her eyes that spoke million words,her smile that gave him assurance.

the second time he saw the girl of his dreams. she had her hair tied up,some of them falling onto her eyes,as she ran behind a balloon that was flying towards him. but he couldn’t care about the red flying whatever. his eyes were on her,just her.

she sees the balloon fly towards someone tall,hoping he’d catch. he smiled and let it pass. she gives him the weirdest look before running towards it.

for a second seungcheol thought his world stopped but was interrupted by her disgusted look. he chased her,the balloon,her steps and finally held the string,smiling. and her clumsy self tripped onto him. cliche but god he swear he hears something romantic playing behind as he held her,eye contacts being passed,like the whole world paused,again.

but his dreams always had a pattern. he would fall in love. fall in love so bad that he was ready to give his life away for you,his love. so would she, but the only difference was she does as she said. you always gave up your life for him. not once,not twice. but in every single dream of his,always without showing your face but a small mark on the right side of the shoulder. thats all he sees in his dreams.

seungcheol never believed in second life or reincarnation. he never believed in soulmates either in contradiction to his dreams.

it was another weekend where he is on the other side of the counter,putting up a fake smile for his side savings,to take care of himself. with rain being harsh the shop was more crowded.

cliche again. the door opened with the sound of the bell ringing,cold breeze hitting his face,drops of water on the glass as he looked at the direction of bells. he swore time stopped.

the prettiest girl he has ever seen,your hair little messy and wet from the rain,little shivers over your shoulder as you came upto the counter. hands hugging yourself you look through the menu board biting your lower lip trying to decide on something hot to drink.

“hi..can i get the hot cocoa andd..” you eye the bakery counter and give out a sigh.

and stupid seungcheol did not hear a word. his whole attention was on you. your hair,your lips trembling and little droplets on your nose. he snapped when you wave a hand at him with a confused look.

“um..do i have to repeat my order ?”

oh god. is he in love. he is in love. he is.

you sit in the corner of the cafe,sadly looking through the window while sipping your cocoa. the rain doesn’t seem to be kind to you. sighing you get up walking towards the door until a voice,little too familiar but you don’t know who it is from.

“hey ! here..you can carry this..” the clueless handsome guy from the counter handed over his umbrella to you.

“no..thats fine i can manage thank-“

“i insist. and i have hours more for my shift it’ll stop by then.”

and something doesn’t make you deny.

his eyes were fixated towards the door. maybe you’d come in to give him his umbrella. maybe he could shoot his shot. maybe he could- oh god..there she is.

walking in you smile at him. everything feels slo-mo to him. with romantic song playing behind. just like his dreams.

“hey ! thank you so much..uh..”

“seungcheol..you can call me cheol” with a stupid smile.

“thanks seungcheol. oh and im y/n” you giggle out.

y/n. such a pretty name. he thinks.

“two minutes. it’s on the house” he rushes as if it was most expensive order he has ever taken.

“no no seun- cheol.” his heart skipped a beat.

“you’ve already done enough yesterday. if at all anything it should be me who should be getting you something” you laugh.

“lets do it” oh. he cant believe he just said that. to be honest he’s little too proud of shooting his shot.

the day ends with him dropping you off at the bus stand,too many stories and laughs. he is giggling and kicking his feet off at bed thinking about you. and it goes on for almost a month and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t fall more and more for you.

and right when he thinks about having a peaceful sleep it returns. tears streaming all over his face as he screams into a void. a image of his lover trying to smile a goodbye as the beeps of the little screen next to her ends. he begs,cries,asking you to stay but just like the other dreams of his,you choose not to.

at first cheol thinks of it as a nightmare. once twice nothing scared him. but everyday ended up the same. him falling in love. him being in love. him losing his love. the pattern was always the same. it was too real and often for it to be just a nightmare. but honestly he cant take it anymore. waking up with a bead sweat slipping down his neck he looks at the clock. 4:02am. the same as every other day. and something in him always asks him to get flowers every time he gets the dream of her passing. for some reason,the daisies.

his usual go to shop is closed so he just walks where his phone takes him to.

‘must be here’ he mutters to himself.

“good afternoon sir how may i help yo- cheol !?” your eyes widen then softens.

“you work here !?”

“uh yeah..not too long ago..” you smile. “soo how may i help you?”

“i’m just..looking for some flowers..”

“oh really ? i thought you were here for laptops” you say high pitched earning a laugh from him and you.

“well..do you have daises?”

“daises ? my favourites” you smile. “just a minute”

billing it for him “it’s in the house” you wink.

“oh come on y/n-“

“i insist ?” you laugh mocking his tone something’s on up your head.

“do you know..daisies mean new beginnings ?”

“really ? i just..”

“thats why i really love daisies. it’s like..” you stare at the flowers and he stares at you. a few seconds go silent.

“anyways..are these for..someone?” you eye at him. hoping for a no. god you don’t even know why but you just want it to be the answer.

“uh yeah” he scratches the back of his head. wow.

“see you later ?” you nod a smile.

running back home from work he sets the flowers onto the little water jar on his desk. he just stares at them. for a minute,or minutes. and something in him tells him to run. run to her. and he does.

running to the flower shop he sees you with your bright smile getting out while waving at the old woman inside.

“y/n ! y/n wait !” you turn around to see breathless cheol resting his palm on his knees while the other had his little flowers from earlier,little dull still beautiful.

“cheol- whats wrong is everything alright ?”

he shakes his head into a no. still breathless he hands over the flowers to you. “for you” he says trying to catch his breath.

“me ?..why-“

“y/n look..i’m..i just want to be straight forward..oh my god what am i..just hear me out for a second okay..?” he says taking your hand in his.

“okay..” you whisper.

“look..i know its so sudden but god..i like you..ever since you walked through the door. felt like my whole world..just stopped..it sounds cheesy but yeah..i really like you..i’d..i’d like to..like you ?”

“woa- damn yes that really did sound cheesy” you chuckle looking down. but inside you felt everything heat up. the handsome guy from cafe just asked you out..or the only friend you made who you might have a little crush on just asked you out..wow.

breathing out he tries to find your eyes “so..?”

“so ?”

looking up at him for several seconds you tip toe to peck him on his cheek.

“bye then ! ” you laugh as you rush away.

my god. thats all cheol could think you. his big ass grin,he bets you saw those tomatoes on his cheeks. he was down bad for you.

———————————————————————-

dating cheol was pretty simple. you both made sure to meet almost every day with him dropping you home or take you out for a coffee. and friday evenings meant a movie and cuddle at one of your places. it was peaceful. it was loving.

and just like another day there were you trying to make a meal without burning the kitchen down while cheol is just walking behind you like a puppy.

“no way he did that !?” he exclaimed at another story of yours tonight. that’s what you loved about him the most. growing up you never had attention which made you a reserved person but he was always ears. always ready to listen to everything you say out. blabbers rants worries..everything.

gently pacing away the hair that fell on your face “let me tie it up” he smiled while tying your hair with your band that’s always on his wrist just in case you needed it.

hugging you from behind he places his chin onto your shoulder and places a peck. at the very moment his eyes widen. his eyes widen at the mark on your shoulder. the one that always haunted him.

“y-y/n..how did you get this mark..”

“uh i dont know but i remember my mom saying it was a birth mark ? pretty unique right” you tilt your head back to get a glimpse then peck his lips.

the whole night during the movie seungcheol was unusually silent. all he could think about was the mark. it could be a coincidence right ? the stupid dreams he had could be just dreams right ? it should be..right ?

tags : @aaniag

[misc-obeyme]

Hello there! I hope you’re doing well, I was wondering if you could do a few head cannons or a ficlet (whichever you prefer) where the brothers (and/or dateables) find out that MC is multilingual.

I’m mostly thinking in the context that they didn’t know before and suddenly hear MC speaking said language, but you can change that if you prefer of course! Or not do the request entirely if this idea doesn’t strike your fancy.

Have a nice day/night!

Hi, anon!

Okay I wasn't sure if multilingual meant MC speaks two languages or if it's like more than two, so I kinda did a little bit of both. And really I think everything could apply to either option, so hopefully that all still makes sense!

Thank you for the request!

brothers react to hearing GN!MC speaking in a different language

Warnings: none!

Lucifer

When he first hears it, he’s sure he’s just tired. He’s never heard you speak any other language before. Surely his mind is playing tricks on him. Starts thinking he must really need to take a break like everyone is always saying.

If you do it again, then he’ll ask. MC, are you multilingual? Demonstrate all the languages you speak. However many it is, he's impressed. He wants to know the details of how you learned this language. Tell him more about it.

He will ask you to teach him the language so he can speak it with you. Really loves it when he gets fluent and can carry on conversations with you that other people don’t understand. He will say all kinds of things with the sole purpose of making you blush.

Lucifer will find records of music that’s sung in languages you know. Might ask you for a translation of the lyrics, but mostly just wants to share the experience with you. Sit with him in the music room to listen and he won’t be able to stop himself from holding you close, whispering sweet sayings that you've taught him in your ear.

Mammon

Woah! MC! Since when could ya speak more than one language? You’re always surprising him with the things you can do!

He will ask you to teach him all the swear words. Says them to Lucifer under his breath more because it makes you laugh than because he really means it.

Wants to know the circumstances in which you learned this language. Is it your native tongue? Or did you just learn a whole new language for some reason? Either way you had to learn a second language at some point and that sounds like a lot of work. Wouldn’t do it himself but he’s impressed that you could.

Actually picks up parts of the language pretty easily. Depending on how often you use it around him, Mammon will be able to imitate your most used phrases. He’ll say stuff without knowing what it actually means, he’s just repeating you. If you tell him what it means and how to use it, it will just become part of his own speech from that point on. Only says lovey things when the two of you are alone.

Leviathan

The first time he hears you speaking it, he’s confused. What was that? Did you just speak in a different language? Quick, MC! Tell him all the different languages you know!

Instantly wants to hire you to translate any media that’s in a language he can’t speak. Video games, manga, shows, movies, even songs! If you insist on teaching him so he can do it himself, he’ll actually be excited to learn. Teach him everything!

Absolutely will watch movies and shows in any languages you speak with you. He’s gonna need subtitles. He’ll ask you about how accurate the subs are. Makes you go through every single line and complains about any inaccuracies you guys find. Posts your translations in online forums.

Talk to him in your language and he’ll be flustered even if he has no idea what you’re saying. You could be telling him to clean his room, but it sounds so romantic? Now he’s blushing like crazy. Levi actually really likes to hear you speak to him in a different language. If he's learning it for himself, he won't get as flustered if he knows what you're actually saying. Either way, he's going to hesitantly ask you to say it again.

Satan

You’re sitting near each other somewhere when you ask a question out loud in a different language. Without looking up or missing a beat, Satan answers your question in the same language. Several moments pass before the two of you look at each other in surprise. Then you both launch into a conversation in that language about how surprised you are that the other person knows it.

This guy has spent many years learning all kinds of languages and that includes human world ones. His main goal was to be able to read books in their native languages rather than translations. But it turns out he’s just good at it so he speaks pretty fluently too.

Now that he knows this about you, he’s almost always talking to you in a language the others doesn’t understand. Finds it especially entertaining to discuss his prank ideas with you while Lucifer is sitting right there.

Do not think for one second that he’s not going to take this opportunity to recite poetry in that language to you. Blushes the whole time, but does it anyway. Please indulge him, MC. You are the only one who can truly appreciate these romantic lines.

Asmodeus

Did he just hear you speaking in a different language? Oh, MC, you’re so full of surprises! He has no idea what you just said, but he is swooning! Please flirt with him in your language, he’s really going to fall even harder for you now. You could say anything but if you do it in the right tone of voice you will get a dramatic reaction from him.

Teach him how to say “I love you” and things like “hug me” and “kiss me.” Know that once you do, he’ll be saying them to you all the time. Asmo might ask you to teach him some insults, too, just so he can use them on unsuspecting demons who have no idea what he's saying.

Designs some clothes with sayings in your language on them. Won’t tell anyone what they mean - he only knows because you told him. But everybody else is just going to have to wonder about it! This is a secret between the two of you! (Well, and everybody else who speaks that language… but that is not the point.)

Might start learning the rest of the language without you knowing. Gets Satan to help him. Then when you’re alone with him he starts saying a whole speech about how much he loves you. Giggles happily at the look on your face before kissing you.

Beelzebub

The first time he hears you, he thinks he must have heard wrong. Blinks in confusion. What was that you said, MC? He’s not sure he heard you right. Explain to him that you were actually speaking a different language and he’ll be even more surprised.

He wants to know more about it. Where did you learn it and why? Beel asks you about the names of food. He doesn’t want to learn them necessarily he just wants to hear you say them.

If you tend to refer to a specific food in the other language, he will start calling it that too. Just straight up replaces that word in his vocabulary. Might do this for non food related things as well. Pretty much just does that thing where he picks up little words and phrases from you simply because he's absorbed it from being around you so much.

He likes to listen to you speak in a different language, even if he can't understand anything you're saying. Might ask you to say anything just so he can listen to the sound of your voice. You could read a dictionary to him and he would be all about it. Content to just sit quietly and listen.

Belphegor

The only one who doesn't even notice at first. It's not that he doesn't care, it's just that it doesn't even register. For some reason, it seems perfectly normal to him that you speak multiple languages. He considers you to be a smart person, someone on Satan's level, and Satan knows several languages, so why wouldn't you?

After he hears you using that language a few times, he gets curious. He doesn't know what you're saying, but he does realize if you're using the same language, especially in the same context. Always letting out a string of it when you hurt yourself? Maybe you rant in that language when you're frustrated? He recognizes the sound of it.

Now he's going to ask you about it. What language is this, MC? Tell him about it, please. He'll ask you to teach him how to say things like "take a nap with me" and "Lucifer sucks." The first time he says that last one, Satan does a spit take.

Belphie will ask you to sing in your language. He wants to hear some songs that were originally written in it. He's especially interested in lullabies. If you sing him one, he'll fall asleep on your lap pretty quickly. Might get needy and ask you to sing to him every night.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[astrosirensblog]

Sirenas astrology observations part

8

• Aquarius suns often feel entitled to hurt other peoples feelings and it’s hard to confront them because they think what they’re doing is okay since it’s “the truth”

• 1st house Lillith people often attract fake female friends or even befriend their own haters when their young. Many times their friends tried to humble them and make them feel like they’re not special or even good enough for anything. But they also get copied by these “friends” lmao

• 1st house saturn people often get called “mommy” or “daddy” but not even in a sexual way. People admire them so much that they even want to be their children at this point haha

• In astrology we don’t say opposites attract, we say someone with heavy mars placements needs someone with heavy venus placements and the same goes for saturn and Jupiter placements. Libras and Scorpios get along so well and don’t even get me started on leo and taurus. Their egos CLASH but they still adore each other especially the leo person cannot get over the Taurus person. And Aquarius gets along with Sag so well, they both love each others humor and humanitarian side. Besides that Capricorn also loves Sag because they’re funny and not only book smart but also street smart

• Having intense synastry with someone who is attracted to the opposite gender is not fun. Being friends with someone with lots of 8th, 7th and 12th house synastry can go wrong really bad and really easily. I realized especially with females this can turn to jealousy and competition real fast

• People with hard aspects to their Neptune get idealized and projected on a lot. Only be around people who uplift you and accept you as the person you are

• Venus conjunct ascendant is called “pretty privilege” these people just know that they’re good looking and you don’t even dare to deny what they’re saying (song jia from singles inferno has this placement)

• Fixed signs and cardinal signs are both equally stubborn but the difference is, fixed signs are stubborn because of principles and morals. Cardinal signs often have a emotional reason

• people with many aries placements are such care takers. The type to make you tea and soup when you get sick and scold you for not wearing a jacket lmao

• 1st house venus people can literally make everyone fall in love with them. They aren’t even your type but you still feel some type of way when you look at them

• 2nd house saturns are such late bloomers in almost every aspect of their life (I’m one ha ha….🥲)

• You want to have a big family? Be with someone who has 5th house synastry with you (especially mars)

• You know the types of people who are extremely hot but also so cute appearance wise? Venus sextile Mars babe

• Mercury conjunct Venus people know how to flirt and they also like sweet talking A LOT they also aren’t the type to use many swear words or vulgar language

[yuna542]

Connected (OT8 x reader)

Part 15<-

Part 16

Pairing: Changbin x reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Under 18 DNI!, Suggestive Themes, Swearing, oral (f receiving), pet names

Word Count: 2.6k

Note: Happy Comeback day!! I’m… not well… The Album is so freaking awesome can’t even describe it. Blasting it on full volume since it came out. So I thought I release a new part to honor the day. Soft Binnie is something I always will have a weak spot for. Hope you like it and to add an extra delight to your day. What’s your favourite Song so far on the album? Let me know!

On your first day of your new job as the personal manager of Stray Kids, you didn't expect to be standing in front of the man you made out with last night in a club. But it soon becomes clear that the Stray Kids don't just want you as their manager.

Will this passionate arrangement end your career?

Your eyes were fixated on the email on your display. You had to send a fully comprehensive description of the styling concept by the weekend so that the outfits for the kids could be planned by the stylists.

This involved seven different songs for the comeback that would be the focus and for which there would be music videos.

First of all, the outfits for the shoots were prepared and then you had to decide on stage outfits with the guys.

To sum it up: It was a ton of work and the stress made your heart skip a beat every time a new message popped up on your phone.

Then again, there were definitely worse environments to work in. For right now, you were lying on the couch in Chan's studio. He himself was sitting at his computer, working on a beat for Changbin and Hyunjin's part in one of the new songs. He kept playing bits of it, incorporating new elements, and discussing details with Hyunjin, who was sitting next to him writing lyrics for his own verse.

Changbin was also completely engrossed in his cell phone screen, writing rap lines for the song.

Only he was lying between your legs, his muscular shoulders right beneath your thighs and his head leaning on your stomach. He had come in and had simply laid on you, with the reason it would be more comfortable and he could concentrate better.

You had been working in the studio like this for hours. Changbin hummed the melody over and over again to bring it into harmony with his lyric ideas and the vibration passed directly to your body.

It was pleasant to cuddle with the muscleman like this, though it became increasingly difficult to concentrate on your work.

The words blurred before your eyes again and again when Changbin moved and your skirt slid up further each time and he ran his hands over your bare skin in thought.

His big arms were tight around your thighs and suddenly, as you were about to start writing a new page, his hand stroked up the side of your leg and reached the hem of your skirt. Immediately something in your lower abdomen tightened and you just tried to ignore his hands and remain professional.

He didn't even notice what he was doing. So it would be embarrassing if anyone found out you were turned on just by being around him.

Slowly, his warm hand stroked back down until it reached your knee, giving you a brief second to exhale. He quietly rapped the lines to himself, typing in improvements, and already his hand was moving back up your leg. His hair tickled your inner thighs and your phone almost fell out of your hand when he let his hand slide under your skirt.

While he was still completely unaware of what he was doing to you, you could only stare at his large veiny hand, which looked so much bigger compared to yours and which had now wandered so far up your hips that it pushed up your skirt and exposed your pink panties.

Briefly his fingers pinched your hipbones before making their way back down. By now you couldn’t even try to waste a single thought on the stupid styling concept. Changbin's body weight rested comfortably on yours and his hand continued to relentlessly touch your aroused skin. You briefly glanced at Chan and Hyunjin, but both had headphones on by now and were engrossed in working on their screens. Only the song could be heard softly echoing through their headphones across the room.

Changbin corrected a line on his phone and again ran his hand up your leg. At the mere sight of his broad shoulders, strong arms, and hands, you grew hotter and your body tensed. When his fingers dug into your skin again under your skirt, near your ass, a soft hiss escaped you. Then Changbin paused and glanced over his shoulder.

"Are you okay, sweetie?", he asked, as if his fingers weren't just under your skirt, teasing you constantly.

With red cheeks, you just nodded and stared at your phone. In the corner of your eye, you saw a smug grin before he went back to his lyrics. It seemed like he could read all your dirty fantasies right in your eyes, so you prevent eye contact.

But only a few seconds later, his hand was on the back of your knee, he turned his head a little and brushed your inner thigh with his lips casually.

Your head fell back onto the couch. God you were so wrong! He knew exactly what he was doing and he enjoyed every bit of it.

Again, a hiss escaped you and that was the confirmation he needed. Naughty thoughts pelted him and the mere sight of your naked skin made him forget his rap lines immediately. Seemingly incidentally and surely without intentions, he kissed the same spot on your inner thigh.

Your hands gripped the phone tighter and you automatically squeezed your thighs together due to the enormous heat rising between your legs. His lips were just centimeters away from your center, where you wanted them so badly.

It was pure torture and he knew it.

Because he noticed how your body tensed under him, how you convulsively tried not to press your legs further together and how your breathing stuttered.

That's when he placed more kisses along your inner thigh, until you couldn’t stand the tension anymore.

"Binnie!", it broke out of you breathlessly as he clasped your thigh tightly with his hand and he began to suck on your sensitive skin. With a questioning look, he glanced over his shoulder.

"Please don't. I can't concentrate...", you sighed, closing your eyes to avoid looking into those seductive chestnut brown eyes.

"What? I wasn't doing anything", he said sanctimoniously, turning around so that he could now look you directly in the face, chin resting on your stomach and smiling such a hypnotic smile that you had to hold a hand in front of your face, so he wouldn’t see how turned on you were.

"Bin, I really need to work“, you whimpered, and a chuckle of laughter rolled through his body. The vibration transferred directly to your lower belly and made everything even worse for your throbbing core.

The mere sight of his pretty face with the fluffy hair framing it right between your legs was too much to handle.

"Then do that and don't get distracted."

A cruel glint entered his eyes and just as you had typed the first word, you felt both his hands closing tightly around the outside of your thighs. Your skirt had slipped so far over your hips by now that Changbin had a clear view of your panties.

"You wear such cute panties every day and I'm only seeing this now?", he suddenly began, and you looked alarmed at Chan and Hyunjin, but they didn't notice.

Now the phone slipped out of your hands when you felt his mouth right next to your desperate core, kissing the skin on your inner thigh. Slowly he worked his way up further and his tongue drove you completely crazy. At the edge of your panties, he suddenly stroked his thumb right over your covered middle, which had completely soaked the fabric of your panties hours ago.

"Fuck. You've been so wet all this time?", he asked then and you squirmed as he pressed his thumb directly on your clit.

"You're so needy just because I touched your leg?"

You couldn't answer. His fingers at your entrance were making the heat unbearable.

"Binnie, please!", you begged, even though you didn't know what for.

His dimples were stunning and you forced yourself not to press your pelvis against his hand.

"It's hot when you beg. Want me to help you, babygirl?", he teased, taking the phone from your hand and placing it on the floor with his. A desperate gasp wriggled from your throat as his hands pulled you closer to him by the hips as if you weighed no more than a feather.

"Binnie I really need to work."

It was a last desperate attempt to resist, but in truth you wanted nothing more than Changbin's face buried deep in your cunt.

"I think Chan will allow you to take a break... Right, Hyung?"

He said the last part louder and directed at the person behind you. To your surprise, the other two were already looking over at you with audacious grins on their faces. Hyunjin had leaned back, obviously enjoying your helpless expression, while Chan laughed in response to Changbin's question.

"Don't stop, Bin! I love those pretty noises our needy girl makes."

"Would definitely sound good on a track“, Hyunjin added, and you immediately blushed. When you looked back at Changbin, he was glaring at you with a satisfied grin.

"See? Those two also think you deserve it. I need to make sure you're not feeling stressed anymore."

He had crawled up to you by now and was spreading kisses and lovebites on your neck. His broad shoulders hovered above you and you couldn’t resist his engaging charm anymore. With nimble fingers, he unzipped your skirt and pushed it up even further and opened the buttons of your blouse so that your bra sprung out.

Hyunjin and Chan kept looking over at you, but continued to work on the side as Changbin took care of you. He inhaled deeply the scent of your skin, the way the tip of his nose brushes against your chest sending shivers down your spine.

When Changbin was satisfied with the hickey he had added above your right breast, he moved his head back between your legs. His biceps tensed seductively as he positioned you. That's when he started rolling your panties off your hips, and when he had it in his hand, he called out to Hyunjin:

"Catch!"

So he did. With a amused grin, he shoved your underpants into his pocket and you were sure you wouldn't get them back anytime soon. But your mind went blank anyway when you suddenly felt Changbins cold tongue against your cunt. He buried his face between your legs without a second to spare.

You thrusted your hips against him, as he went in way more faster than you thought. His tongue penetrated you and you couldn't hold back the sounds.

The Rapper was good at a lot of things, but you didn't think anyone could possibly be so good at giving head. His strong arms held you straight down on the couch, and your hands gripped his curls roughly. And he moved his tongue as if he knew exactly how you liked it.

You were grinding down lazily onto his face and letting out noises that were fucking sinful but so lovely for him to hear. The hand he gripped your thigh with tightened to keep you to him, his goal of your orgasm in mind.

His hand has snaked to grope the soft skin of your ass.

"Binnie, please... If someone comes in“, you tried to say, but your shaky voice threatened to break as the knot in your stomach tightened. That's when he pulled back, with a cheeky smile he licked your salvia from his lips and leaned his head against your thigh.

"Do you want me to stop?"

The sudden emptiness and tearing away of your high, made you regret your words directly. Quickly, you shook your head.

"No. Bin, please! Go on! Please, Binnie!"

"Thought so," he teased.

You buckled your hips when he unexpectedly thrusted his middle and ring finger inside you, walls welcoming and clenching around them so tightly Changbin almosts came right into his pants.

"All day I've been thinking about your sweet cunt“, he said and you heard Hyunjin giggle contentedly.

"She tastes like heaven, doesn't she?"

In response, he brought his fingers to his mouth to suck you from them. This was so sexy that you could only stare at him. His hair was messed up and his lips puffy and glistening from your juices.

Changbin nodded:

„She's addictive."

And started pumping his fingers inside you again.

"You're all we fucking need. We don't want anything else but you, you know that babygirl?", he clarified and that made your heart pound. It was only the feeling of his tongue back on your clit that snapped you out of your trance. Your head thumped back against the couch behind you, fingers tightening in his endearingly soft hair and you felt him push your leg on his shoulder to spread you without needing his hands.

You arched your back dazed by his motions, a soft moan rose from you as he found that spot again. The one that turned you into a lustful mess and shot you into another atmosphere. His tongue was relentless as he matched the new faster pace by entering two fingers as he suckled on your clit, and he was humming out in satisfaction, the vibration against you cunt.

You didn't even remembered that Chan and Hyunjin were also in the room, too lost in the feeling to realize you were chanting Changbin's name like a prayer, mixed in with a few swear words and some pornographic noises.

"Such a filthy fucking mouth," Hyunjin said. "How does someone so pretty sound so dirty?", Chan asked with a dirty smile, enjoying the show. Both of them were still working on the screens, but couldn't ignore the sensual sounds and Chan started to palm himself through his shorts, as your moans made him instantly get hard.

That was the moment your orgasm rolled over you. Changbin continued to work you over and had you right where he wanted you. With Hyunjin's beautiful eyes intently on you and Chan barely managing to keep his length in his pants, you gripped Changbin's hair even tighter and your whole body tensed as he worked you through your high. The intense eye contact with the other members seemed straight out of an erotic film.

You couldn't help but pull him back up to you and kiss him deeply. A messy, dirty kiss where the desperation flowed through you both like an electric wave. Both of you buzzing. Your hands flew to his belt and you tugged him closer with it. He leaned over you, his hands were tangled into your hair as he continued licking into your mouth, and he groaned deeply.

„If you won't stop soon, I'm gonna join."

It almost sounded like a threat from Chan.

"Then there's no one working here today, that's for sure", Hyunjin agreed, and that brought back some of your mushy mind. There was still so much to do and you were lying here letting Changbin eat you out.

In fact, he also finally broke away from you and let you breathe a sigh of relief. Your legs were still weak and he climbed off of you with one last kiss on your nose that was almost cute.

Slowly you straightened up and started buttoning your shirt again.

"So, still stressed?", asked Hyunjin amusedly, and you could only shake your head wordlessly. Changbin helped you stand up and conscientiously zipped your skirt. Then he brushed a strand of hair from your face and smiled warmly. You felt protected and cared for, even though that was actually your job.

You remembered that Hyunjin had your panties.

"Jinnie, can I have my panties back?"

He pretended to think and pulled you on your thigh closer so you were standing between his legs.

"I'll keep it for today... If you're good, you might get it back."

As he looked up to you with a cheeky smile and those shimmering eyes, that reminded you of obsidian, you almost forgot, that you were actually at work.

->Part 17

——————————————————————-

© Sky-yuna — 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

Taglist (closed):

@poisonivy21 @elizalabs3 @chartrucewhore @smutlemononeshot @hgema @bookwyrm28 @gemini-demon @jeongchaos @jihanlovic @comingupwithacoolnameishard @marked-unknown @yuhjoeyuh @bakedlilgoonie @itstorimf @toomuchtellyneck @ana-stasssiaaa @galaxypox @n034sy @amara-mars @purple-belle @amararosesblog @tori719 @rindomo @freakinthesheets-excelexcel @niaalove @crazyllamasurfer @luunaruwu @mariegalea @kimseungminsprincess @julciaqwerty @officialshania @whore4stucky9104 @foxinnie8 @i-dont-know-me-either @sirenthalia @mixling-blog @httpsmultifandom @hyunlixwife @eastleighsblog @tzalethhwang @queenofdragons12 @fixation-dump @midsoulz @emmxxsworld @scarletrosesposts @sugahannie @jinniespuppy @minervasystem @tasteskz-sworld @hyunlixsbbygirl

[morty-witch]

Vox x F!PopStar!Reader

A/N: Hello! This is my first ever fanfiction on tumblr and first ever fanfiction i wrote fully in english and i went kinda crazy with this prologue and went WAYYY over the signs limit. I will publish it in few parts and i'll link other parts to this one. Ily guys and i hope you enjoy it <3 This story will have few chapters, because i got a lot of ideas for it WARNINGS: Language, cursing, swearing, Valentino being Valentino, emotionally abusive boyfriend, mentions of cult, mentions of d3ath Y/N: YOUR NAME S/N: STAGE NAME

PROLOGUE 1 PROLOGUE PART 2 PROLOGUE PART 3

stop, you're losing me

PAST

Y/N and Vox got to know each other during their first days in hell. She was innocent, lovely doll in his eyes, even though she was in hell for a reason. She was practicing witchcraft, occultism, whatever you’d call it. That’s also how she died - she got killed by fanatics of different beliefs. Vox on the other hand was her prince charming. She adored every single thing about him and was fully commited to their relationship or whatever it was. He enjoyed how she played piano or guitar in their apartment while he was working, she was happily breaking the silence with her self-written songs practicing them to then sing it in some shabby restaurants. And everything was going well, Y/N thought she got someone to spend her hellish torment with, until everything went downhill and “forever” she wished for fell apart. ”Doll, i adore you, i really do, but what the fuck are you even thinking?” Vox asked, while looking at her notebook full of songs. “I know you like music and i never had anything against you having a little creative freedom and fun, but pursuing it as a career? Really?” he asked, visibly tired of this. For a second he thought he should never even allow her sing her little songs in those bars for little money, but that was making her happy and everytime she was coming home, he enjoyed seeing how energized and recharged she was. Little did he knew, that music was strongest medium of her power. ”I know what are you thinking, but music really will be worth the wait. I just need more…” she started, but then he just laughed annoyed. ”More what? Money? Time? What do you need this time?” asked, leaning his back on the countertop. Girl opened her lips to answer. They had this conversation way too many times, but every single time Y/N was enough of a good girl, she just apologized and they just came back to their everyday routine, but that time she was prepared to fight him, if she had too. ”Time. I need… More time. I got plan! I-I” She stuttered. YN got anxious just by seeing her lover in this state. As she was about to start explaining everything to her, as she took a deep breath, he snapped. “For fucks sake, Y/N, we are in fucking hell, nobody really cares about your cute little songs. Focus on making contracts and gaining power, not… this” his hands were moving violently and then he just took her notebook and burned it with one spark of electricity. That was it. She had enough. She looked at him with teary eyes and then just walked out, leaving her phone in their apartment, so he wouldn’t know where to find her. He called and cursed her name, said she was overreacting, but she was in amok, she heard nothing excepr for blood running through her vains and her heart pounding heavily like it was about to jump out of her chest. That was last time they spoke.

PRESENT

“Get ready you fuckers we have to be on the stadium in like 30 minutes” Velvette yelled, waiting for other Vee’s to get out of their rooms ready. She got them concert tickets for one of the biggest tours all around the Hell. This artist has been trending for years already and this is her first tour after longer break and it was all around social media. It was indeed a big event, so Velvette had to be there, as she is hells biggest trendsetter and influencer if she wouldn’t be there, what kind of influencer would she be? ”You can as well go without us if you are in such a hurry” Said Vox, walking out of his bedroom wearing white turtleneck and a blazer. Velvette rolled her eyes up annoyed with him and focused on her phone once again. “Please, tell me again why you want me and Val out of all people to go with you?” sighed “isn’t your bodyguard enough of a big strong man to make you feel safe? Not to mention you would do just fine on your own” he said, then looked at Valentino walking out of his room. ”I did not want to go alone, there will be a lot a lot of sinners, good way to earn contacts and meet someone useful. And Val wanted to do some scouting, because apparently he needs some fresh meat or whatever” she said, then decided to add “Also i thought about offering her a collaboration, because we need to grow in different directions and to be honest she has most influence in the entertainment field” Velvette explained and when Vox tried to speak, she hushed him “Yes, even more influence than you. She is everywhere”. ”Weird i never heard of her” he said with his typical annoying smirk, but Velvette just brushed it off. ”You are just not a man of culture, Voxxy, she has been in the industry for years” Valentino took a puff of gis cig. ”and i can barely hear you listening anything except for old Alastor broadcasts” Velvette joked and moth chuckled this comment, while Vox got angry and started explaining to them that he is just getting to know his enemy. So basically he’s only way to justify it was saying he’s preparing himself to next diss battle.

They all got to the place in silence. Well… Kind of. Valentino bitching about Angel Dust moving out (as always) broke the silence, but other than that, nobody else spoke anything except “mhm”, “really?”, “woah” without even paying attention to whatever moth said. Velvette had a backstage pass, she got it from manager of the tonights star. ”Vees! You are just in time, guys. (S/N) is about to enter stage in few minutes” welcomed them the mentioned manager. Eddie was a powerful hellborn - no matter how ridiculously it sounds, she indeed had a lot of contacts and connections in all of the hell. She may not be strong, but her greatest power is who she knows and one word from her was enough to make a specific demon or even an overlord vanish. “Velvette, darling, you are looking absolutely stunning, (Y/N) would absolutely love working with you” woman said, walking through the backstage with Vees. Vox felt a knot in his stomach when he heard this name. He have not heard it in years. He tried to look for her first years, but he couldn’t find her anywhere, especially without the phone, so he gave up looking for her. ”(Y-Y/N)? Who is this?” He asked, trying to clear his mind. Maybe its not my (Y/N) he thought. ”It’s her concert, you dumbass. But she uses (S/N) because it’s more catchy and looks better on album covers. More aesthetic or some shit” Velvette explained, turning back to Eddie and talking about business, while Valentino was looking around, eyeing some young, pretty hellborns and sinners working there. ”What are those pretty things~” he purred and smiled mischiviously. Vox rolled his eyes, but stayed quiet. It probably is someone else, it’s not like she was the only person in hell with this name, right? he asked himself in thoughts

“Alright, my dear, here you go, wear those bracelet, it will keep your energy and power safe and you may take your sits” Eddie handed them all a silver bracelet. Vox just looked at the thing in confusion. Keeping energy safe? Why in the sweet Satan ass would he need to do that? He wore it anyway, but still… Was a little confused. Velvette thanked Eddie and they just exchanged quick “see ya” and overlords left, going straight to their sits. Velvette got the ones quite in the front, since she wanted to see everything. Y/N was known for being quite the performer and everyone in hell was saying her concerts are the experience of a lifetime. PROLOGUE PART 2

PROLOGUE PART 3