#*throws 15 fic ideas out the window*

[strawhatbaby]

me until the 1082 breakup scene

[gyupinkys]

LIKE CRAZY

PARK SEONGHWA X READER

WC: 7.4K

WARNINGS: MURDER, YANDERE, VIOLENCE, DOMESTIC ABUSE, GORE, KIDNAPPING, DRUGGING, SMUT, power imbalance, questionable morals, unprotected sex, rough sex, heavy talks of breeding, creampie, oral, guided masturbation, possessiveness, very inaccurate medical terms idk what i'm talking about, lots of dirty talk, seonghwa is actually crazy...

Synopsis: Park Seonghwa, 25, charged with 10 Counts of second degree murder, acquitted of all charges by reason of insanity. You find his story hard to believe, seeing through his lies. As a new psychiatrist you're not sure you're ready for the anomaly you're tasked to treat

A/N: Thank you guys so much for all the support!!! I love this fic <3

You love your job, you really do but moments like this make you question why you’re here. As you stand in the bathroom of your office cleaning the mashed potatoes your patient threw at you in a manic rage off your face, you question why you do this. As a psychiatrist you pride yourself in your patience, but you can't help but stomp your foot in a mini tantrum. You spent so long doing your makeup this morning and it’s all going to waste. You throw the final wipe in the trash and stare at your reflection. The bags under your eyes are much more prominent than a few days ago. You’ve been up all night trying to prepare yourself for your new patient coming today. Park Seonghwa, 25, acquitted of all charges by reason of insanity. He claims a “demon” took over his body, subsequently leading him to murdering 15 people across a 1 month killing spree. You don’t buy it. Something about this guy is off and the state made it your job to find out why. Your phone ringing snaps you out of your thoughts.

“Doctor L/N, the patient has arrived, we are transporting him to his room.”

“I’ll be right there.” 

You take a deep breath and walk across the hospital to his room. You expect to hear shuffling and yelling but the room is eerily quiet. The guards in front of the door step aside and let you into the room, keeping a close eye on Seonghwa. 

“Hello Mr.Park, I’m Dr. Y/N L/N, and I will be treating you for your stay here.” you smile at him., surprised by his appearance. 

“Hello, Y/N.” he says, staring up at you from his place on his bed.

His curly black hair and plump lips suit him so well. 

“I hope you adjust well, we’ve been anticipating your arrival. Breakfast begins at 8, so you are expected to be up and ready before then. Lunch is at 2 and dinner is at 7. Your therapy time with me is at 4 Mondays, Wednesday’s, and Fridays. Sounds good?”

“Sounds great” he says with a smile, showcasing his pearly white teeth. 

“I look forward to working with you. My job is to take care of you and I promise to do that.” you smile.

You take a second to look at him, watching the dead look in his eyes. His smile says one thing but his eyes say another. With one last smile you leave the room, almost certain he’ll be causing problems before the night is over. 

_________________________

You come in the next morning and check in with the nurses. Surprisingly there were no issues from Seonghwa, he even took his medication with no complaints. Maybe you had the wrong idea about him. You meet with several of your other patients, thankfully avoiding potatoes in your face again. It's 3pm when you take a break, looking outside your office window. You see him sitting at the edge of the courtyard, eyes fixed up at the sky. Four guards surround him out of precaution, but he seems completely unphased, eyes staring at the clear blue sky.  For someone capable of such evil things he’s beautiful. His curly hair has grown quite long during his time in prison awaiting his trial. His eyes are wide and bright holding so many secrets.  As if he can feel your eyes on him he looks up, directly into your office window somehow making eye contact with you. Your eyes widen and you quickly look away, pretending you weren't staring at him. It’s not uncommon for new patients to stick to themselves, often untrusting of the new environment. You can only hope Seonghwa will begin to trust you so you can treat him, if not you’re not sure what his future might hold.   

_________________________

He is brought to your office at 4 on the dot, accompanied by the four guards assigned to him. He looks rather scared, the new environment keeping him on his toes. You welcome  him with a wide smile that he doesn't return, instead staring straight at your shoes. 

“Hello, Seonghwa.” 

“Hi.” he responds quietly, reminding you of a scared child. You find it in your heart to feel sorry for him. 

“How are you adjusting?”

He shrugs in response, eyes still on the floor. 

“Can you look at me?”

He shakes his head no. 

“Ok, that's fine. I know it’s scary here, I’d also hate to be constantly monitored, but we just want to make sure you’re safe.”

He keeps quiet so you continue. 

“Tell me, do you like the food here?” 

No response. 

“I’ve only tried some of the patient food, well besides when it gets thrown at me. Last week Sandy with the weird haircut threw her potatoes right in my face, I looked like Ms.Doubtfire in that one scene.” you say with a laugh, gauging his reaction. He smirks but remains silent, you decide it might be best if you keep talking in hopes of making him comfortable. 

“I’ve only been working here for about 5 months. I can’t say I’m settled completely. Some patients don’t seem to like me very much, hence the mashed potatoes. But I don’t let that discourage me, I mean if I was in their shoes I wouldn’t want some random lady talking my ear off. Well, I guess that’s what I’m doing now, I’ll shut up.”

He looks up at you with a wide smile, showcasing his perfect teeth. “Don’t stop," he says gently.

“I don’t think you know what you’re getting yourself into here, I can talk for hours.” you say with a light laugh. 

His eyes widen a bit, he looks at you as if he’s psychoanalyzing you, the roles seemingly reversed. You squirm under his intense stare, deciding to just start talking. 

“How about this? If I tell you one thing about me, you tell me one thing about you?”

“Deal.” he says much quicker than you anticipate making you laugh. You hear his breath hitch, concerned you did something wrong. 

“Are you ok?” 

“I’m fine. Start talking.” 

“Ok, Ok. Hmmmm, Oh how about this, I haven’t finished paying off my student debt.”

“I could pay it off,” he says seriously. 

“I appreciate the offer, but I’m sure that violates many rules.”

“I’m not one to worry about rules.” he says with a smile, making your own fall. He quickly reacts, trying to soothe the situation. “That was a joke, I’m joking.” 

“Noted.” you say hesitantly. “Your turn.” 

“I miss my cat.” he says, sadly.

“You have a cat?” you ask in surprise. “I love cats, I have two.”

“Can I see?” he asks, scooching to the front of his seat, making the guards jump hold him back. 

“You guys can relax.” you say and they let go of him.

You grab your phone from your desk, missing the way his eyes drop to your ass. 

“They're named Brad and Chad. And yes I know those are weird names for cats.” you show him the pictures of your cats, seeing his body visibly relax. 

“What’s your cat's name?”  

“Matz.”

“Boy or girl?”

“Girl. I think my friend Hongjoong has her but I’m not sure.” 

“If you give me his last name I can try to find out for you.” you say with a smile.

He leans forward again in excitement. “You’d do that for me?”

“Of course, I know It’ll give you peace of mind.”

“Kim, his last name is Kim.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Kim Hongjoong has Matz and says you raised a very disrespectful cat.” you say and slide into the chair across from him in the cafeteria. 

He looks a bit shocked at your presence but he gives you a wide smile when he registers what you said. 

“She was born like that, I had no part in her sassiness.” he laughs. 

“Did he say anything else?”

“He said,  “Don't forget to look at the sky.” and stopped responding after that so do with it as you will.”

“I really appreciate it.” he says and grabs your hand, making the security guards restrain him. 

“It’s ok, let him go.” you sigh, understanding the guard’s worry, but also feeling sympathetic for Seonghwa. 

“I’ll see you around, Seonghwa.”

“Call me Hwa.” he smiles. 

_________________________

Seonghwa has made great progress, now only being followed around by two guards as opposed to four. He’s been much more responsive with you and willing to let you into his mind, but he refuses to talk about the murders. Whenever you attempt to touch on the subject he locks up and asks to leave. You think he needs more time to accept and confront his past. You know prying too much will only erase his progress. You’ve learned so much about him and he’s learned so much about you. He’s so attentive to every word you speak, constantly bringing up small details you forgot you said. You’d be lying if you said it wasn't sweet. Today you decided to try group therapy with him, maybe if he sees someone else sharing he’d be inclined to share as well. You’re also hoping he’s able to make a friend here, since he expressed to you how lonely he’s been feeling. You can see the shock on his face when he walks into your office and see’s San sitting on the couch. He freezes in the threshold of your office, his face morphing into something you’ve never seen before. 

“Who is this?” he asks with venom.

“Hwa, this is San, he’ll be joining us today.”

“Why?”

“I think it’ll be a good change of pace. Now come on in and sit down.”

He slowly walks in, eyes never leaving San. 

“So, I was thinking of doing a joint session today. I think you two can be great friends and what better place to facilitate this friendship than here?”

“I’d rather be your friend, or more than friends if you’re interested.” San says with a smirk.

“San, don’t start.”

“If you show me your tits I’ll stop.”

“I will write you up.” you deadpan. 

He holds his hands up in defeat as you look over to Seonghwa. He’s sitting in his chair with a hard face and tense body. You want him to feel comfortable, understanding why he’s nervous. 

“Hwa, San also loves cats. Why don’t you tell him about Matz?”

“I have a cat named Matz” he whispers, eyes never leaving you.

“I used to have a cat but it died. I was thinking of getting a new one.” San says with a wide smile.

“What kind of cat is your favorite?” Seonghwa asks, seemingly interested. 

“I like cats that are nice and wet, even better if they're tight.” he says with a wide smile, showing off his dimples. “Can I take a look at your cat, Doctor?” 

Before you can respond San’s on the floor, face being beaten in by Seonghwa. 

“HOW ABOUT YOU TREAT HER WITH SOME FUCKING RESPECT.” he yells as his fist fly into San’s jaw. As the guards peel him off San and sedate him he’s staring straight at you, tears in his eyes. 

“I can’t sit here and let him talk to you like that.” he slurs as the sedative takes over his body. 

“Thank you, Hwa.” is the last thing he hears before everything fades to black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You did a real number on San.” you say with an awkward laugh at your next session,  trying to make him comfortable. He’s back with four guards after he broke San’s jaw two weeks ago.  He was placed in a higher security ward inorder to avoid more altercations.

“He deserved it.” he whispers with an eye roll.

“Maybe, but we don’t have to solve our problems with violence.”

“I do.”

“Well, If I upset you would you beat the shit out of me?” you ask, trying to prove your point but hoping he will say no.

He leans forward and looks directly into your eyes. “Y/N I will never hurt you. I swear on my life.” 

“That's good to hear” you say with a laugh. 

“Ok, let's begin. I want you to write three things you like here and three things you dislike. I want you to start seeing the good in the bad.”

“Not much to love in this shit hole.” he grumbles.

“Hey, At least the chicken tenders they serve on wednesdays are good.” you joke.

You hand him a piece of paper and a pen, your fingers brushing making you clear your throat. 

“Ok, go ahead.”

“You do it too.” he says with a smirk.

“How about I just write things I do like? ”

“Deal”

You write three things you like:

Chicken tenders 

The sunlight

Seonghwa

“Ok, you share first.” 

He clears his throat. 

“I like my doctor, I like the girl I meet on Monday’s, Wednesday, and Fridays, and I like Y/N.”

Your eyes widen and you can’t help but smile, feeling your cheeks tingle. “Well that's definitely something.” you say with a laugh watching his eyes light up. 

You read out your list and watch his smile widen when he hears his name. 

“Don’t let it go to your head.” you say with an eye roll.

“Oh baby, it already did.”

Your heart stops at the pet name, willing yourself to remain professional. He’s a goddamn serial killer you internally yell. 

“Ok, now read the things you don’t like.”

“I don’t like Tuesdays and Thursdays, I don’t like San, and I don’t like your boyfriend.”

You choke on the sip of water you were taking. 

“How do you know I have a boyfriend?”

“Your reaction just told me.” he says and you can see him becoming upset. 

“I don’t have a boyfriend, and frankly it’s none of your business.” you say, slightly annoyed. 

He gives you a look you’re never seen before. You hate to think it but he genuinely looks insane. You’re suddenly thankful for the guards in the room. 

“I think that’s enough for today.” you say. the guards picking him up and dragging him out of the room, his eyes never leaving yours.

You weren’t lying, you don’t have a boyfriend. Well, that’s because he doesn’t want you. All  Chris wants from you is sex, claiming he’s “too young for a relationship”

You wish you were strong enough to stick up for yourself but that’s exactly how he likes you, weak. 

As you sit at your desk you're puzzled by Seonghwa’s reaction. Sure, you've had patients crush on you in the past but they've never reacted like that when they found out about your partner. He looked almost… murderous? You write this in his file, concerned for both your safety and his. Maybe someone else should get assigned to him? No, that’ll only aggravate him more. You sigh, at a loss about this situation. 

_________________________

When you enter your office you see an envelope on the floor, presumably slid under your door. You pick it up and see it’s addressed to you.

You open it and pull out a letter.

“My dear Y/N, 

I don’t know what I was thinking yesterday. I guess I got jealous, knowing I can’t have you in the ways he has you. I can tell you guys aren’t in love. You deserve to be loved, in every sense of the word. I wish we met in different circumstances, I’d do anything to have you, to hold you, to love you. I’m sorry if I scared you. You’ve been nothing but perfect for me and I’ve done nothing but give you headaches. I’ll be better for you, I promise.

-Hwa”

Your heart softens. This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for you. You choose to ignore the parts where he confesses his love for you. That just complicates things. You decide to pay him a visit in his room. 

You walk to the other side of the hospital, rehearsing what you're going to say to him. You stop in your tracks outside his door, hearing moans and groans coming from the other side. Is he ok?  You press your ear to his door, only hearing more moans and whimpers. As you’re about to open it you hear him moan out your name. Oh. It doesn't take a genius to guess what he’s doing. It would be a lie if you said you weren't imagining his face right now. He’s already so pretty, he must look even better right before he comes. You bite the bullet and knock on his door.

“Hwa, can I come in?”

You hear shuffling and a meek “Come in.”

You open the door and pause. You expected him to stop but he’s sitting up on his bed with his back against the wall, cock in his hand. Your eyes stray from his face to his dick, hard and long. 

“Am I interrupting something?”

“No.”

“I’ll come back later.” 

“No.” he yells, making you stop in your tracks.

“Turn around.”

As if you were in a trance you turn around, eyes trained on his large hands wrapped around himself. 

“Can you come help me? It hurts so bad.” he whispers. “You’re my doctor aren’t you?” he smirks.

“No, this is wrong.”

“Then why are you still here? Why are your eyes on my cock rather than my face?”

“I-”

“Y/N, all I can think of when I close my eyes is you.” he says as he strokes his cock, looking into your eyes. “Your pretty eyes, your lips, your perfect fucking smile. You make it so hard to focus. I gotta come back here after every session to stroke my cock to you, I can’t help myself.”

You’re frozen in place, unsure if you’re even breathing. “Come wrap your hand around my cock, baby. Please?”

Your legs move before you can think this through, hesitantly wrapping your hand around him. He’s so big in your hands, you can only imagine how perfect he’d feel inside you. 

“I shouldn't be doing this.” you whisper to him. 

He wraps his hand around yours and guides you to begin stroking him, moaning at the sensation. “You aren’t doing anything wrong, just helping your patient.”

His breathing picks up as precum leaks from his tip onto your hand. “Baby, can I tell y-you something?”

“Yea.”

“I really wish it was your pretty little pussy wrapped around me right now.” he groans. “I’d treat you better than you could imagine, I’d have you addicted to this dick.”

“Hwa” 

“Shh, keep going. You're making me feel so good, beautiful.” he breathes out, throbbing in your hand.

“Do you do this to your other patients? Or am I special.”

“You’re special, Hwa. You know that.”

“Do you do this for that ungrateful bastard you call a boyfriend?”

You freeze, but he continues. 

“I know you don’t. If he treated you how you deserved you wouldn’t be here with me. I’d make you a queen Y/N, you don’t even have to love me back.”

You look at him in the eye, he looks fucking insane but you can’t find it in you to care. You crash your lips into his, feeling him suck in a deep breath before returning the same ferocity. The kiss is deep and nasty, nothing but tongue and teeth. You grip him harder and begin pumping him faster, desperate to see his face when you come. 

“I want you to come for me ok? I wanna see how pretty you look when you feel good.”

“Yes, yes, ok. I’m gonna come for you.”

You hear him let out one last whimper before he comes, his seed dripping down your hand. When he’s done you bring your hand up to his mouth, watching him lick his cum off your fingers. You feel yourself clench around nothing, but you know you’d have to handle your little issue at a later time. 

“So good for me, Hwa.” you smile, giving him one last peck before getting up. 

He’s laying on the bed, looking completely blissed out, a wide smile on his face. 

“I got the letter by the way. I guess flattery has gotten you pretty far.”

_________________________

You arrive home later than expected, getting caught up in some paperwork and losing track of time. When you arrive at your apartment you see none other than Chris waiting outside. 

“Where have you been?” he immediately spits, slurring his words, making you roll your eyes. 

“Why are you here?” you sigh, unlocking your door.

“What? I can’t come see you now?” he says, going to hug you, but you push him away, smelling the alcohol on his breath. 

“Thought you’d be more interested in seeing Irene.”

“Y/N, don’t be like that. You and I aren’t together.” he says, getting aggravated.

“Thank God.” you say under your breath, unsure where this confidence came from.

“Come again?”

“Nothing.”

“No. Fucking say it.” he says, getting in your face.

“Chris, just leave.”

“Youre fucking impossible, Y/N. I don’t know what you fucking want from me. You get mad when I fuck other bitches but you talk to me like this? You don’t deserve me.”

You can’t help but laugh, turning to walk into your bathroom, which makes him even more upset. 

“Whats so fucking funny?” he yells, grabbing your wrist a little too tight. 

“Don’t fucking touch me.” you spit, trying to pull your hand away, but unable to due to his tight grip. 

“You’re hurting me.” you cry as he tightens his grip and pulls you towards him. 

“Imagine how much you hurt me when you act like this? You’re a fucking bitch Y/N. Why are you acting like this? Are you fucking someone else is that it?” he’s getting angrier by the second, beginning to scare you.

“GET OFF OF ME.”

“ADMIT IT. YOU'RE WHORING YOURSELF OUT AREN’T YOU? “

You yank your hand from his grip, only to be greeted with a sharp slap across your face.

You look at him with wide eyes, shocked at his actions. He seems equally as shocked as he stares at his hand then you. 

“Sweetheart, I’m-”

“Get out before I call the cops.”

He rushes out, spewing bullshit apologies in his drunken state, but you’re having none of it. As soon as he leaves you begin to cry, the reality of what happened hitting you. You look down at your wrist, seeing his hand imprinted on your skin. You cry more, wondering how you got to this point.

_________________________

You tried your best to cover the small mark on your face, but the bruise on your hand was a no go. You just hoped the sleeves of your lab coat would cover the mark. You see multiple patients today, trying to keep up your usual happy persona but most likely failing. San is the only one who asked if you were ok, saying he “knows ways to make

You feel better.” Maybe Seonghwa needs to beat him up one more time so he can learn his lesson. Speaking og Seonghwa, you are nervous to face him after your encounter yesterday. You violated so many rules, if he were to snitch on you not only would you lose your job, but your license. You take a deep breath as the guards bring him into your office, two instead of four now due to good behavior.

He takes a seat but you’re not sure what to say. He frowns at the unusual silence, immediately asking what's wrong. 

“I’m fine, Hwa. Just having a shitty day.” you say while subconsciously rubbing your wrist, bringing attention to it. He shoots forward in his seat and grabs your arm, pulling back your sleeve and looking at your wrist. The guards immediately grab him, but you signal at them to stand down. 

“Did he do that?” Seonghwa asked, venom dripping from his voice. 

“He was drunk.” 

“That's not an excuse.”

“I know.” you sigh.

“That bastard doesn't deserve you. I hope he fucking dies.” Seonghwa spits. 

“Hwa, don’t say that.”

“I want to leave.”

You nod your head and the guards lead him back to his room. You decide to head home, hoping a night out with your friends will clear your mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seonghwa’s tells himself he’s doing this for you. Everything he does is for you. No one can lay a hand on his sweet girl and think they won't experience any consequences. He’ll be damned if this fucker lives another day. He watches Chris dance and kiss other women like nothings wrong, like he didn’t put his hands on you. Seonghwa can feel the rage flowing through his body, this is the feeling he gets right before he kills. He can’t wait to see the light leave Chris’ eyes tonight. He’s eternally grateful for Hongjoong finding this fucker for him, he knows he’ll avenge you tonight. 

He waits for him near his car, watching him fumble with his keys. 

“Excuse me.” 

Chris turns around and sees Seonghwa standing next to the car parked behind his own. 

“Yes?”

“I know this sounds weird, but I’m trying to dump my couch, but I can’t get it out of my apartment by myself. Can you help me?”

“Yea sure.” 

Seonghwa couldn't help but smile, knowing what was about to happen. As soon as the pair enter Hongjoong’s old apartment, Seonghwa wastes no time and stabs Chris in the chest, watching him crumble to the floor. 

“You think you can touch my dear, Y/N and get away with it? No one is going to hurt my girl.” he spits, rage consuming him. 

Chris doesn’t get a chance to respond as Seonghwa plunges the knife into his chest, repeatedly, aiming for his heart. 

“This is how my heart felt when I saw those bruises on her.” he spits, mutilating Chris’s body. 

When his body is nothing more than a pile of flesh and blood, Seonghwa stands, changing out of his soiled clothes and exiting the apartment, leaving Chris’s body to rot. 

He pushes through the crowds of the rowdy club, searching for you. He spots you dancing with your friends, looking carefree and happy, exactly as you should be. He smiles at the sight, falling more in love with you as the seconds pass. He wants to experience everything with you, he wants to marry you, have kids with you, die with you, and he will. He’ll make you his, he’ll fill you up with his seed and watch your body grow. He’ll keep you where no one can find you, make sure you’re his forever. 

He watches you search for one of your other friends from your spot at the bar, hoping you’d make eye contact with him. When your eyes meet his heart stops. He watches your eyes widen, and confusion grow on your face. You rub your eyes to make sure you’re seeing correctly and when you open them again he’s gone. 

He walks back to the asylum elated, happy he served you justice. He passes by the security who knows better to question him and the nurses who keep their heads down and mouths shut. There's nothing money can’t buy, and the hospital staff’s silence is definitely not one of them. He changes back into his patient attire and gets into bed as if nothing happened. 

_________________________

 You’re 100% losing your mind. Either that or Seonghwa was in the same club as you last night which is impossible. You've run through every scenario you could think of and you’ve concluded whatever you feel for him is becoming too strong. You’re considering transferring him to another doctor, the guilt you have from what happened two days ago is sitting on you. That was completely unprofessional and foolish, your risked so much because you’re too fucking horny. Not only that but you took advantage of him, you're in a position of power, you should've said no. You know you wouldn't be able to treat and diagnose him properly. But you also know he’d throw a fit if he gets assigned to a new doctor. This is all too much for you to handle.

Your thoughts are interrupted by someone barging into your office. You look up and see Seonghwa, eyes widening. 

“Hwa? Why are you here?”

“I needed to see you.”

“Where are the guards?”

“Don’t worry about that.” he says and locks your office door, worrying you a bit.

“Seonghwa, you’ll get in trouble if they find out you’re here.”

“They won’t find out if you don’t tell.” he says with a smile, walking to your desk. 

“Why did you need to see me?”

“I’m sorry for how I acted yesterday. It wasn’t my place to react like that, and I know you were probably already stressed, I shouldn’t have added to that.”

“It's ok, don’t worry.”

“No, it’s not Ok. I keep saying I'll treat you right but I haven't. Let me make it up to you.”

You smile at how much he cares when it should be the other way around. 

“And how are you going to make it up?” you say with a light laugh.

“Let me eat you out.”

Your eyes widen. 

“Hwa. What happened was a one time thing. We can’t keep doing this.”

“Why?

“You know why.”

“I won’t tell anyone. No one needs to know, Baby. I love you, why would I jeopardize you?” he says, getting on his knees next to your desk chair.

“What if someone sees?”

“I’ll take care of them. With the way I’m about to have you, no one but me gets to see you.”

Your breath quickens. No way you're actually contemplating this. You watch as he turns your chair towards him and places his hands on your thighs.

“What do you say, Sweet girl?”

You nod hesitantly. He smiles up at you spreading your legs and running his hands up your skirt. He flips it up and looks at your pink panties, sucking in a deep breath. 

“Just like I imagined.”

He puts his legs on your shoulder and pulls your hips to his face, running his nose along your inner thigh. He’s breathing heavily, his grip on you tightening. He licks a long stipe up your slit over your panties, teasing you. Your hands fly to his soft curls, pulling him closer. 

“Please don’t tease”  you whisper.

He begins to kiss your cunt, practically making out with it. He’s so sloppy with it, soaking your already soaked panties more. He pulls off your panties with his teeth, shoving them in his pocket before pulling you flush to his lips. He goes straight for your clit, sucking harshly. He's moaning into your cunt, lapping at your pussy like it's the last he’lll ever eat.

“So good, Baby. You taste so fucking goof. The best I’ve ever had.”

He runs two fingers through you, wetting them before easing them inside. 

“Fucking hell, you’re gonna be the death of me.”

You can only moan in response, trying to control your volume.

“Tell me how it feels.”

“It’s so good, Hwa. Feels so good.”

“Is it better than that fucker Chris?”

“Yes, so much better.” you moan out, not having enough brain power to question how he knows chris. All you can focus on is his soft tongue running through you and his fingers hitting all the spots you need. 

Your back arches as you feel your orgasm coming. “Give it to me baby. I deserve it,I’ve been so good to you.” he speaks into your cunt, his fingers never stopping. 

You look down into his wide eyes and see so much emotion in them. He’s so fucking pretty, just the thought that this is the man eating you out makes you let go. Grabbing his hair harshly and somehow pulling him closer as you soak his face. He keeps sucking and licking your clit, slowing the pace of his fingers. When it gets too much you yank his head back, out of breath. 

“Fuck, Hwa. That definitely made it up to me.” you laugh, blissed out.

“I’m glad.” he laughs, licking his fingers clean before standing up and kissing you.

“I can make you feel even better.” he smiles, testing his luck. 

“Nice try. Can I have my panties back?”

“No can do.” he smiles, kissing you one more time before backing up, helping you put your clothes back in place. 

“I’ll see you four, Love.” he says with a wide smile.

“Actually, I need to cancel our session, something came up.” you say solemnly watching his smile drop. All the guilt from before it you once again. You can’t keep doing this. He’s you patient for fucks sake, you can’t fuck him. This is wrong on so many levels.  

“So when am I going to see you instead?”

“I’ll let you know.” you say with a frown.

“Oh, Ok. Have a nice night, Y/N.”

“You too, Hwa.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seonghwa can feel something's off. He thought after he ate you out you’d realize you feel the same way about him. But he could tell it had the opposite effect. He tries to sleep but all that's on his mind is you. He looks at the clock on the wall, it's well past 4am, you should definitely be gone. He gets up and opens his door, seeing the guard on night duty fast asleep. He walks to your office and uses the master key he stole from the janitor to unlock the door. He walks over to your desk and scans the papers littering it. He sees a printed out email from your supervisor, listing reports made about you from other patients. Other patients claim you show him favoritism? He knows San was behind this. They claim patient reports you write for him are much more detailed and that's somehow proof of favoritism? You eating lunch with him is somehow inappropriate? He laughs at this, they really have no idea how inappropriate your relationship has gotten. He continues reading, Your supervisor claims he’s showing no improvement and has requested a new doctor for him. He can feel the anger coursing through his veins but he wills himself. He’ll be damned if they try to take you away from him. His months of planning will not go to waste. He’ll live out all his dreams with you, there's no way he won’t. 

He walks out of your office, filled with rage. He can’t believe this. He can only imagine how crushed you are. He knows you love him, even if you don’t know it. He knows you’re probably at home distraught. He owes it to you to make sure you two remain together forever.

He goes back to his room, but he still can’t sleep. He stares at the ceiling, imagining your pretty face in an attempt to calm his spirit. He’s rudely interrupted by his door opening. He looks at the clock and sees it's somehow 8am. Time flies so fast when you're on his mind. In walks another doctor he’s seen around the hospital. There's no way this happened so quickly. He can’t believe this. He sees the man speaking to him but he’s not hearing anything besides the ringing in his ears. 

“I want Y/N to be my doctor.”

“Unfortunately, she can’t. She hasn’t been making much progress with you. We're hoping a more experienced doctor like myself can help you more than she can.”

He looks at him blankly. He feels himself slipping away. His hands clench and reach under his pillow, grasping his knife as the doctor reads from his clipboard. He won’t let someone speak about you like this. He won’t let them take you away from him. He grabs the doctor's hair and slits his throat, sawing through the man's blood vessels until he falls limp. A guard runs in and attempts to wrestle the knife out of his hands but he overpowers him, plunging the knife into his chest repeatedly. Seonghwa’s fuled by blind rage, no one will stop him from avenging your honor. How dare they speak of you like this as he kills the fourth and final guard to come in. He hears alarms blaring in the distance and looks at the clock. It's 9:05 am, he can feel you on your way to him.

_________________________

The blaring of the alarms push you to run faster, entering the high security section of the hospital. The commotion from down the hall gets louder as you approach his room. You come to a halt as you see a stream of blood running down the hall, coming from beyond his door. A loud thud from inside his room breaks you from your trance,  you push open the door, seeing the bodies of guards surrounding his bed.   

“Hwa” you gasp, eyes trained on the battered bodies. “What did you do?” you breathe out, finally looking up at him. 

He looks up at you from across the room, eyes wide and bloodshot. 

“What did I do?” He laughs maniacally. “Y/N, This is your fault. I did this because of you.” he says as he begins to approach you. 

“THEY TRIED TO KEEP ME FROM YOU!” He yells. “You were supposed to take care of me. YOU PROMISED!” He traps you against the wall next to the door. “Isn’t that your job? Nurse me back to my right state of mind? Figure out what's wrong with me? But you didn’t do that. No,no, no you just made me fall in love with you, you made me want you! So don’t act like this is my fault.” he says as he lightly drags the knife across your throat.

“No ones going to keep me away from you, my love.” he whispers into your ear. He leans over and locks the door before looking back at you.

“Do you think I’m going to hurt you?”

“No.” you answer with full confidence.

He smiles at you, but it's not the same smile your Seonghwa gives you. You don’t know who this is. 

"I want my Hwa back, I don;t like you like this.”

“I am your Hwa, Baby. I did this for you Y/N. Don’t you see how much I love you?” he says, dropping the knife and kissing down your neck. 

“I know, Hwa.” you sigh heavily, feeling his cock hardening against your stomach. 

“Say you love me too. I know you do.”

Do you love him? Can you love someone who’d do this? The longer you stay quiet the more upset he gets. “It's ok baby. I’ll love you enough for the both of us.” he sighs. “One day you’ll realize how much you love me.”

He runs his hands down your body, squeezing your ass. He flips you around, pressing your chest to the wall. 

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard, Y/N. I’ll be all you think about for the rest of your life.”

He shoves your pants down and rips your panties off you, rubbing his fingers through you. “Fucking hell, you’re a filthy fucking liar. You do like me like this, look how wet you are.” he says bringing his soaking fingers in front of your face. Your breath quickens, seeing evidence of how wet you are.

“Just fuck me, Hwa.” you groan.

He pulls out his hard cock and rubs his tip through you. “I’ll make you mine, Y/N. You’ll let me cum in you right? Own this pussy”

“Yes, Hwa. Please.”

He lines himself up and slides in slowly, gripping your hips tightly at the sensation. 

“F-fuck, Baby. You feel so good, the best I’ve ever had.” he moans out. He fills you up completely, stretching you so painfully but not nicely. You savor the pain, it reminds you of  how taboo this is, how much you deserve to feel pain. Youre letting this psychopath fuck you in a room full of bodies, your colleagues blood on your body doing nothing but turning you on. You deserve to feel pain, but he turns that pain into pleasure with the first thrust. It’s like your pussy was made for him, you fit together perfectly. You can feel him in your stomach, so deep inside you, you can feel yourselves becoming one. He picks up his pace, thrusting into you harshly. 

“I’ve dreamt of this for so long. I’ve fucked my fist imagining it was this pussy. You couldn't even imagine all the nasty things I’d do to you, Bbay. I’d hurt you so bad but you’d love it, you’d beg me for more. B-beg me to make you mine.”

He pulls out quickly and flips you around, hiking you up the wall. You wrap your legs around his waist as he slides back in, fucking into you while staring into your eyes. 

“I need to see that pretty face when I breed you. I have everything planned out for us, Y/N. There's a beautiful house waiting for you, so many rooms to fill up with our beautiful babies. I know you’d be a great mother, my perfect little housewife.”

He picks up his pace, feeling you clenching around him, but desperate to come together. 

“I’d keep you full of my seed all the time, my love. You’d always feel me dripping out of you, I’d keep you nice and round with my babies for as long as I can. You want that don’t you? You wanna be my slutty little cum dump?”

You can barely answer him, let alone breathe. He’s hitting it so deep, you feel like your on another planet. You look down into his eyes and nod, mesmerized by his beautiful brown eyes. You’d let him do anything he wanted if it meant you felt like this forever. 

“Cum for me, my love. I’m going to fill you up so nicely, ok?”

You let go, clamping down on his cock and hearing his deep groan. His warm cum fills you up to the brim, leaking out of you, despite the vice-like grip your cunt has on him.

“So fucking tight and warm, baby” he blabbers, shallowly thrusting his seed back into you. He pulls you in for a kiss by your neck, claiming your mouth as his own. You pull back for air, giving him a blissed out smile. The words he so badly wants to hear hang on your tongue but you can’t give it to him yet. 

“I know, baby. You don’t have to say it, I already know.” he whispers against your lips and sets you down. 

He helps you fix your clothes and begins to pull you out of the hospital. As you see the chaos ensuing, the reality of the situation hits you. 

“Hwa, where are you taking me?”

“Hongjoong is outside we gotta go before the cops come.”

“Wait, what?” you pull back from him, stopping him in his tracks.

“Y/N, now's not the time.” he growls.

“Tell me what's going on.”

“You really think I was going to stay in this shit hole forever? Y/N, I’m not fucking crazy, I killed those people on purpose. The only reason I’m not rotting in jail is because I paid off the judge. I was planning my escape from the moment I got here but I only stayed this long because of you. So let's go.”

His words break you from your trance. This man is actually insane. You begin backing away from him but he gets visibly upset. “Y/N, don’t try this shit with me. You’re coming with me whether you like it or not.”

The dim lighting of the hallway and red lights from the alarms make him look sinister. For the first time you feel afraid of him. 

“I don’t want to go with you, Seonghwa.”

He looks at you blankly before grabbing you harshly. “

“I didn’t want to do it this way, Y/N. I wanted us to be happy, but if I have to force you to want me, so be it. He pulls out the sedative he took from one of the guards and pulls off the cap with his teeth. “You’ll be mine forever Y/N. That baby growing in your belly is proof enough.” 

He sticks the syringe into your neck, releasing the chemicals into your body. You feel the drugs immediately kick in, falling limp in his hold. 

“Hwa, please don’t.” you whimper.

He caresses your face with a pout. “Don’t worry, Baby. You’ll love me eventually, I’ll make sure of it.” 

He flashes you a wide, beautiful smile before everything fades to black.

[caraetdeul]

A Bouquet of Breakdowns

Choi Seungcheol x fem!reader

Sometimes, life is a bride that just gives a whole ass bouquet of problems in one throw.

TW: breakdowns, stressed reader

a/n: hi so this is more of a self-indulgent fic. I've been so stressed lately and I may have inserted my own situation in this fic in a very detailed way too much, so sorry bout that. But other than that, hopefully everything's good at your end of the screen but if not, hopefully this fic will help you in any way possible. Enjoy reading caratdeuls!

~Main Masterlist~

I’ve got a pocket, got a pocket full of sunshine

I got a love and I know that its all mine, oh oh

Do what you want but yo—

Seungcheol groaned, trying to reach out for his phone on his nightstand in his sleepy state. Letting you change his ringtone to this song may be a mutual decision for the sake of comedic timing but right now, all he wants is to just throw his phone out the window.

“Whoever decided that 2 o’clock in the morning was a good time to call was definitely gonna taste the wrath of a sleep deprived Cheo—”

“Oh thank God you answered!”

He paused for a second, his brain trying to comprehend the urgency in your brother’s voice. Once his brain caught up to the moment, he sat up immediately.

“What do you mean, Chan?”

“I’ve been trying to call noona for 30 minutes now and she’s still not answering her phone. I’m panicking right now hyung. I don’t know what to do!” Cheol can already hear Chan’s pacing from his end of the line and knew that he was already at the brink of a panic attack.

“Hey, hey, hey calm down for a bit. What do you mean you’ve been calling your sister for a while now? Isn’t she in her room probably sleeping right now?”

“That’s the thing! She isn’t! I went in her room to borrow something from her but when I entered, she wasn’t there! Oh god, this can’t be happening right now.”

“Okay, breathe Chan. I’ll go help find her. Do you have any idea where she might have gone to?”

He heard Chan take a deep breath before answering slightly more calmly than before, “Try the park behind the church. I do remember her telling me something about the garden there and how she goes there sometimes.”

“Okay, thanks Chan.” Cheol stood up, immediately searching the vicinity for a shirt and his wallet and keys.

“Wait, I’m coming with you.” He can already hear a door slam shut before Chan even finished his sentence.

“No, stay there in case she comes back. I’ve got this.” The call went silent for a bit and Cheol can feel his hesitance to follow his instructions. But even then, Chan knew he was right and can only sigh in agreement.

“Okay, fine. Just call me back once you find her, please.”

“I will, don’t worry.”

“Thank you, hyung. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“No worries, Chan. I’ll do anything for the both of you.”

Once the call ended, Cheol rushed to his car, praying to every single higher being he can remember at the moment that you were alright. He wasn’t really shocked with how your brother reacted to your sudden disappearance. Ever since you were children, all he could remember was how you took care of your little brother all by yourself. Your parents were always too busy for the both of you thus, you were left with all the responsibilities in your home including being a parent for your own brother. Because of this, Chan decided that he was gonna be your protector in any way that he can be. So it was no shock that he would react this way.

It took him around 15 minutes before he reached the town’s church. He parked the car by the sidewalk before walking towards the back of the church where the park is found. Chan didn’t really specify the garden that you mentioned but he had a slight clue as to what it might have been. You were always fond of the hydrangeas that bloomed at this time of the year. He can remember how pretty you looked under the light of the sunset as you explained how hydrangeas can grow in groups but still retain a unique beauty for each flower. He then remembered how you further sprouted random facts about them and all he’s thinking about is how much he loves your nerdy side.

Walking through the park, he tries calling out your name but there were no response. As he neared the garden hidden at the very end of the park, he can slightly hear a melody being played from a phone. Once he got closer to the sound, he sighed in relief when he clearly heard the lyrics to your favorite song. It was only then that he realized how stiff his whole body was from panic, only relaxing when he sees your form lying on the grass and watching the stars above. He sent a text to your brother to let him know you’re safe. As soon as he received a text back, he walked towards your direction, careful not to spook you too much.

“You do know that phones are made primarily for texting and calling, right?” You immediately turned to the direction of the sound, scared for your life. But once you see your boyfriend’s face, you relaxed your hold on your pepper spray and took a deep breath to calm your nerves down.

“What the hell, Choi? You scared the shit out of me.”

“Well to be fair, you scared me first what with you disappearing in the middle of the night and not even telling anyone about it.”

“Okay, fair. Sorry about that.” You sheepishly smiled at him in an attempt to look apologetic as he lies down next to you.

“Apology accepted.” Cheol stretched out his arm to you, letting you cuddle up to him, “but i can’t promise any forgiveness from your brother any time soon. He was about to burn the whole house down in panic trying to find you.”

“Oh god.” Cheol chuckled at your response. He can already hear the gears in your head running and trying to find an acceptable peace offering for your brother. For a few minutes he let you dwell in your thoughts, knowing all too well that you’ve already moved past that and now deciding on whether or not you would share the whole reason why you’re out here at this time of night.

“So,” Cheol started, “want to talk about it?”

You hummed. Biting your lips, you said the first thing that came into your mind, “I don’t really know where to start.”

“That’s okay. Take your time. We’ve got all night.” His hold on you tightened for a bit, letting you know that he’s there for you no matter what. You don’t know what you did to deserve him but you thank God so much that he let you two meet because you don’t know how you will ever survive this world without him in your life.

“I’m overwhelmed,” you sighed shakily, “everything is too much and I can’t even relax properly. I…”

Cheol scrunched his eyebrows in confusion when you didn’t continue your train of thought only to hear you sniffling and feel your body shake a bit from trying not to cry.

“Its okay, love. Let it out.”

And then the dam broke.

You told him how your work was piling up and everything was just so stressful. You also told him about the disappointment you felt when your workmates left you all alone while struggling to meet a deadline on time when they promised you that they will help. In short, you have vomited every single slight inconvenience and big event in your life that happened in the course of a few days to your boyfriend. Your sweet and caring boyfriend who’s listening intently to every single word you’re saying.

By the time you were done, the sun was beginning to rise. You can hear the sounds of the nature around you waking up as Seungcheol wipes your tears and hug you tightly. You can feel him kiss your hair, stroking it in an attempt to ground you. You both stayed like that for a few more minutes before Cheol made you both sit up to face each other.

“You do know you can share anything with me, right?” He cupped your face with his hands, forcing you to look into his sincere eyes.

“Yeah, I know.”

“So the next time you feel like this, will you please go straight to me?”

You felt your lips quiver due to the intense sincerity that you felt from his words. You observed his face, memorizing every detail and imprinting them into your brain.

“I will.”

Taglist: @moonwonuu @belladaises

Seuncheol smiled in relief before hugging you once again, pulling your head to rest on his chest as he enveloped you with his arms. Maybe you’ll have a hard time letting him be a shoulder for you to cry on but he vows to you and to himself that he will be there to catch you whenever you fall.

[rrxnjun]

dancing in my backseat ✲ l. donghyuck

pairing. film student! donghyuck x film student! fem! reader starring. uchinaga aeri genre. college au, acquaintances to lovers. fluff, comedy, suggestive warnings. mentions of alcohol and weed, swearing, sexual innuendos word count. 24k (24.047) a/n. please dont hate me for the fact that this does not have any expected smut in it i tried and it felt too awkward i just COULDN'T. also this fic doesn't fit the image of it i had in my head at all but i actually kind of prefer this version over the prev idea i had anyway <;3

playlist. marvelous - wallows / crash my car - coin / test drive - ariana grande / streets - doja cat / no manners - superm / feather - sabrina carpenter / AEAO - dynamicduo / wet tongue - thomas headon / car crash - eaj / delicious - the boyz / but i like you - boynextdoor

there are only a few things in which men value their social status; one of them being the number of girls in their bed, the next one their rank in league of legends, and lastly, their cars— or— where you would never fuck a guy without a driver's licence.

✲ PART 3 OF THE SIMPLIFY ROMANCE SERIES ✲

If anyone asked you about your relationship with Lee Donghyuck, you’d scoff at them and simply state that the resident gemini was your moral enemy. Was that true? No. No, of course it wasn’t– there was nothing this man has done in his life to get on your bad side, and you truly don’t feel any hatred towards him, but at the end of the day, it’s always easier to say this than to explain the exact feelings you have towards the male without sounding at least a bit overly-dramatic.

See, you don’t hate Lee Donghyuck; you don’t think he’s your enemy either– you just find him absolutely, excruciatingly annoying.

And it’s not his personality, no– although you do admit that the way he carries himself and has such high mind about himself is quite alarming– the way your toes curl and the hair on your body stands up, all alert in sheer ick and disgust, has nothing to do with his ego and everything to do with your experience with the man. 

The first time you find Lee Donghyuck intensely annoying is when you get a text one day (having acquired his phone number from one of the class group chats, since the two of you major in the same program), at 9 in the morning, approximately 15 minutes before you have to leave your apartment to get to your fist class of the day. The man picked the wrong time to bother you, since it was Monday, of all days– the beginning of the week always manages to rile you up just because it exists in the first place– and you could give him the benefit of the doubt and say that it wasn’t his fault at all and you woke up grumpy already, but the events that happened after made you so deeply disturbed and annoyed to your core that there truly wasn’t any other word left in your vocabulary to describe Lee Donghyuck than the adjective already mentioned – annoying.

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – hi im in a crisis lee donghyuck (film theory class) – can u pls throw some toilet paper lee donghyuck (film theory class) – we ran out and my roommate already left for class lee donghyuck (film theory class) – pleaaaaase

Staring at the texts appearing on your phone screen in a hurry, you stop in your tracks and furrow your brows at the contact name in confusion. The truth is, you haven’t spoken to Lee Donghyuck that many times– you just know that he’s friends with your friend Lee Yangyang from high school and you two meet occasionally at the said friend’s gatherings. Plus, you had a discussion or two about the beauty of Quentin Tarantino movies when you met at orientation in freshman year, and that's also when you learned that he’s your neighbor; in fact, the window to his flat's bathroom and his very own bedroom face yours. But that’s about as far as it goes when it comes to your closeness. You’re not familiar enough with him to text each other or to think of each other in a time of need, so to have his first texts to you be about him being out of toilet paper is a thing to really dwell on to fully understand the extent of the bad impression this man had on you.

you – what the fuck

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – just open the window and throw me some lee donghyuck (film theory class) – i am good at catching

you – im in a hurry rn. gotta get to class

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – SO DO I why else do u think id be up this early lee donghyuck (film theory class) – so PLEASE throw me the damn toilet paper so im not late today

Shaking your head in disbelief at the conversation you’re currently having, too confused and tired to deal with it so early in the morning, you walk up to your room and look out of the window. Right opposite of you, not being further than 10 meters, if you’re being absolutely exact, is Lee Donghyuck’s head popping out from the bottom rim of his bathroom window, seemingly still sitting on the toilet. The look in his eyes is desperate as he clasps his hands together and mouths “Please!” at you, his face forming into a truly humiliating scowl that makes you wonder if he's truly done with what he'd been doing on the toilet only a few minutes prior. 

Sighing, you turn on your feet and escape your room– not noticing the absolutely disturbed and mortified face Donghyuck’s pulling behind your back, thinking you abandoned him and took off for class– and you truly can’t believe yourself when you walk into your own bathroom and take the half-used roll of toilet paper off the stand, murmuring a silent “Fucking hell” under your nose as you walk back to your bedroom and open up your window wide. Donghyuck’s eyes light up now, as if he was a kid under a Christmas tree about to receive a gift from Santa.

“If it falls to the street, I’m not getting it!” you yell after the boy, seeing as he eagerly nods and ushers you with a wave of his hands.

“Just throw it and I’ll be sure to catch it!” he nods, waiting for you to start your career in the new twist on baseball– a sport you’d call a toilet roll throw against the street. His eyes seem focused, knowing this is his only opportunity at wiping his ass this morning (why neither of you thought of suggesting to use the shower instead, you don't know to this day– perhaps it was too early in the morning for such complex strategies), when you surprisingly do your best at aiming for his window– thank god you both live on the same floor– and throw the roll across the alleyway, the paper unwinding only slightly before it lands on the floor of Lee Donghyuck’s pearl white bathroom.

“Thank you so much, you are my savior!” he yells, his head disappearing from the window, leaving you alone in your room to watch the commotion. When nothing happens for a while, you only shake your head in disbelief once again, deciding your job here is over and you can finally take off for your dreaded lecture.

“I’ll get going!” you scream into the void, scratching the back of your neck, aimlessly. 

“Mhm! See you later!” 

Nodding to yourself, you sigh, closing the window and doing a double take as you’re about to leave your flat for class, hopefully still on time. In disbelief, feeling the second-hand embarrassment seeping to your bones, you put on your shoes at the entrance and swear to yourself that you’re never gonna answer any of Lee Donghyuck’s texts ever again.

The previous scene already established that you’re no stranger to second hand embarrassment. I’m sure all of you have experienced it before– seeing someone desperately flirt with your friend, knowing that they’re not interested… Watching a drama and being absolutely grossed out with the script, wondering how the actors got convinced to take on the role… Hearing someone say an absurd answer in class… There are many, for sure, and the list could just keep going. You saw it with your own eyes as well, when your friend Choi Beomgyu tried hard to impress a girl at the skate park and managed to fall off his skateboard mid-trick, tearing his jeans in the crotch area in the process. Or when your roommate Aeri got tipsy at the club and who she thought was a very fine gentleman to flirt with was actually her ex boyfriend. The list goes on and on.

What about first hand embarrassment, though? You’re sure you experienced it before as well, but if anyone asked you, you’d tell them you don’t remember any embarrassing stories. If it’s because you just don’t want anyone knowing about the shame in your bones or if you really hated those experiences so much you chose to bury them and extract them out of your memory, you won’t tell. You just won’t let the shame haunt you for any longer than it has to, that’s for sure. 

So when you walk home from the hairdresser one afternoon and you’re met with your roommate Aeri looking at you with lips pressed together, yet the corners tugging upwards in what you assume (and fully know) is her trying to hold back an amused laugh, you admit that your suspicions were indeed correct when you saw yourself in the mirror at the salon and you’re going to have to live through another embarrassing moment. One that will take days and weeks to outlive as well, since your hair doesn’t grow back overnight– and when you look into the mirror again, you’re terrified.

“Don’t laugh.”

“I’m not laughing, it’s just… you look… well, you know, it’s just…” she mumbles, before she finally breaks into a loud laugh, standing behind you and examining the state of your hair in the mirror of your entrance hall with you, hands coming up to play with your strands and hold them up and down, brushing your bangs out of your face and ruffling the top– trying everything possible to find a single good hairdo with the haircut you have going on right now. “Oh babygirl… what did the do to your beautiful hair…” she mourns, the tone of her voice still amused, but now also kind of considerate.

“I told her I only wanted a trim,” you say, voice weak in what you realize is you holding back your tears and suppressing a mental breakdown, “how the fuck am I supposed to show my face to the world tomorrow?” 

Your roommate sighs at you, spinning you around so you no longer can see the disaster on your head, a pout forming on her face as she lightly shoves you deeper into the apartment. “At a second glance, it’s really not that bad, you know–”

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better,” you cut her off, annoyed at her soft eyes.

“I don’t?” she looks at you, shocked irises hardening when she realizes you no longer need her sympathetic words. “Okay, thank god. Man, she fucked you uuup, leave a bad review like, right now. I’d cry myself to sleep if I got a haircut like that–”

“I take it back, I liked your lies better,” you roll your eyes at her, walking over to the kitchen to fix yourself a glass of water to calm down your racing heart. The mental breakdown is still right around the corner and you realize you have to do everything in your power to stop it, because you already have a fucked up haircut– you can’t afford to show up to class tomorrow with puffy eyes and stress-induced pimples as well. Gulping down the cold liquid, you decide to hop into the shower (and avoid looking in the mirror at all costs, which is kind of difficult, since there's three of them just on your way to the bathroom). 

Meeting the encouraging eyes of your roommate once you come out of the shower, hair tied up in a towel so you don't have to think about it any longer, Aeri's words reach your ears in the living room. “Come on, I’m sure we can manage to do something with this tomorrow morning,” she smiles, “at least you have a pretty face. You can pull off everything!”

And the truth is, even though Aeri is nice, she’s not always right. You’re met with the fact the next morning as you watch your reflection in the mirror before you both leave for your shared Film theory class, standing next to each other defeated; one breathtakingly beautiful and one looking like the main character from Chicken little. You'd be fine with it if it was only you who was aware of your disastrous image, you would be able to deal with the shame and insecurity silently– but that's not what happens as you’re only reminded by the fact that other people, sadly, do perceive you, against your biggest wishes, throughout the whole day.

You’re reminded by the fact that your haircut is fucked up when Ji Changmin, the guy you share an Animation class with, sees you in the corridor and does the yikes face at you and his friend Sunwoo hides his face from you as they turn the corner. You’re reminded by the fact again when you see Jisu, the ever-so-sweet girl that majors in Finance, the girl that’s friends with everyone in this school, look at you with a considerate look, patting your shoulder when she passes you by before you enter your Film theory classroom. 

And most importantly, you’re reminded by the fact when you finally sit down– at the very back of the classroom, which is both valid and understandable, considering your current state– and you’re met with a thud of a backpack to your left, a figure sitting down on the usually vacant spot. Clenching your jaw and looking up to see its owner, mentally preparing yourself for the teasing that’s about to come, you meet eyes with a tall, sleek man, shirt tucked into his black jeans and a sigh of relief escaping his throat as he sits down on the uncomfortable chair. Lee Donghyuck waves at you in greeting when he notices you there, running his hand through his neatly styled hair.

“Hi there,” he breathes out, “can’t believe I made it on time. My alarm didn’t go off and my roommate couldn’t be arsed to wake me, even though our morning lectures start at the same time, so I had to run and my usual seat is taken already… hope you don’t mind me sitting here– woah.”

And here it is again– the feeling of absolute humiliation as the man scans you up and down, eyes bearing into yours with an unreadable look on his face. Is this how he felt when he texted you to throw toilet paper through his bathroom window? Or was he immune to the shame? 

“Did you get a new haircut?” he asks, squinting his eyes at you in question.

“Shut the fuck up,” you sigh, already annoyed with his antics– because frankly, you know what will come next. 

“That’s an interesting answer to a yes or no question,” he muses, chuckling to himself, “I’ll take it as a yes, though, but it seems like you’re not satisfied with the new look…”

“Woah. You should work with the FBI or something,” you mumble, averting your gaze from him and looking straight in front of you, praying for the class to start fast so you don’t have to interact with your neighbor any longer and listen to him make fun of you for your new look.

“Why? It doesn’t look bad at all,” he says, the tone of his voice fakely considerate, making you want to punch him in the gut, “It’s interesting. I like it. It shows off your eyes and your forehead more, since your bangs are way shorter now,” he says, putting emphasis on the fact that your bangs truly are half their original length– which wasn't your original plan at all– only riling you up more.

“Only thing left to add is that I have a massive forehead, isn’t it?” you ironically smile at him, and the male takes your word for it as his eyes focus on the exposed part of your skin, furrowed eyebrows and all, as he examines your features.

“Not massive, but it’s a little… like, I wouldn’t say–”

“Just don’t say anything, okay?” you sigh, cutting him off and folding your arms at your chest in a poor attempt at defending yourself.

“Geez, why are you so snappy? I was complimenting you, y'know,” he says, and if you were more stupid, you’d even believe him– the tone of his voice still sounds genuine, but that’s just the way your neighbor likes to deceive people, and you know that; you’ve seen it happen multiple times before. “It adds character.”

The comment makes you roll your eyes, all words taken off your tongue– you simply think there’s no use defending your atrocious haircut now (not that you tried defending it before, even you aren't that oblivious). Your gaze is focused anywhere but at your seatmate, counting down the minutes until the class starts and you're taken out of your misery for at least an hour and a half. Your Film theory professor is almost never late and now is the only day you’re content and happy about the fact, because it means you won’t have to listen to Lee Donghyuck for more than approximately 2 more minutes until the small, hunched over frame of your professor strides through the door. 

Still, you feel his burning gaze to the side of your face, and despite your best intentions, you snap your head towards him and bite at the annoying gemini.

“Take a picture, it will last longer,” you spit, scoffing at the male.

“Can I really?” he asks, and before you have a chance to disagree, his phone is shoved into your point of view and the shutter comes off, making you lounge after the man in a poor attempt at taking his phone away and deleting the first picture of your new hair ever taken. (Well, except for the one you took crying last night, with a peace sign and your tongue darted to the side against your mirror. You don’t need any more traces of your current haircut than that one.)

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – hi neigbor whatchu doin lee donghyuck (film theory class) – u have a car right

Squinting at the next text conversation with Lee Donghyuck, the first one since he asked you for toilet paper 3 weeks ago, you feel nothing more than pure confusion at the strange questions the man asks you in the middle of the night. It’s Friday evening and your roommate went out with a guy named Eric she met four weeks ago in the gym, and even though you were slightly concerned when she texted you to say she was staying over at his house for the first time, you only showed her support as you went to lay down with no other plans for your evening. Falling asleep to your midnight playlist playing in the background (thanking God for the smart feature that makes the music shut off after 30 minutes), it's completely understandable and predictable that the noise of an incoming text annoys you when you hear it only a few minutes after 2 in the morning. The fact that it’s your neighbor texting you, out of all people, only makes the fury in you bigger as you click your tongue and shoot him a quick text back.

you – what do u want

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – neighbor!!!!! lee donghyuck (film theory class) – you do have a car 

Staring at the text that just appeared on your screen, you sigh and decide to spill the truth, preparing for whatever request that’s about to come after you admit to the fact that you do, indeed, have a perfectly functioning vehicle parked behind the building.

you – yes 

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – perfect lee donghyuck (film theory class) – do u hav sm time on ur hands

you – im sleeping

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – veryfunny youre replying rn tho lee donghyuck (film theory class) – come on itsa simple request

Breaking your back just to decipher the words through the amount of typos Lee Donghyuck’s making, your annoyance only grows bigger. Has he always been a bad texter? You don’t remember him struggling as much when he was sitting on the toilet three weeks ago– his texts were absolutely clear and with 0 mistakes back then. Maybe he was in a more desperate situation back then, after all…

you – what do u want hyuck its late

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – can u drive me home

And here it goes– in the back of your mind, you somehow knew it was coming. There were only a few reasons why someone would ask if you owned a car, and judging by the fact that it was now 2 in the morning on a Friday night, your neighbor wasn’t trying to sell you a new vehicle just in case you didn't have one yourself. Getting a drive home would be the only logical request from someone asking if you owned a car– it would only be more logical if the person asking you was your friend, and not an acquaintance at best.

Staring at the screen of your phone, counting down from 10 to not snap at the ridiculous request, you watch as the device lights up with an incoming call. You don’t even have to look at the caller ID to know who’s calling, and despite your best assumptions, you pick up with no more thought given, waiting for the person on the other side of the line to speak first.

“Y/N,” he says, voice breathless. 

“Lee Donghyuck.”

“Can you please drive me home?” he asks, tone of voice lazy and tired, something about the dragging of his words hinting you that there’s more to the request than you’re grasping right now.

“Are you drunk?” you ask, right off the bat, to clear out any confusion. 

There’s a short silence on the other side of the line, one that hints that you’re completely right in your assumptions, but you still want to hear it from the guilty man himself. “Maybe a little,” he admits, snickering, “I was over at Yangyang’s and then he kicked me out and I… my legs hurt too much to walk home.”

Sighing loudly at the man’s antics, you shake your head in disbelief and clear your throat. “I don’t see how that’s my problem?”

“Oh, come oonnn,” he drags out, “it’s not that far.”

“Yeah, so I don’t see how you can’t walk back, then?” you mutter, rolling your eyes at the demanding tone in your neighbor’s voice. If it was anyone else, maybe, just maybe, you’d be on your way already. You never decline your friend’s requests for favors, since you know they’d do the same if you asked, but you don’t really see how Lee Donghyuck, a man you’re not even close to in the first place, could repay the favor. What on Earth was he thinking in the first place when he called you? Were you his last option? Is he out of his mind?

“Because my legs hurt, if you were paying attention, you’d know that I told you before–”

“I don’t really care,” you mutter, “this is not my problem, I’m ending the call now, goodbye!”

“Y/N!”

The tone of his voice is desperate. Laced in agony, even. Still, you don’t care as you cut off the line and close your laptop that's been your source of music during the late night, settling deeper into your sheets. This is not your circus, not your monkeys, and frankly, you don’t really care what happens to Lee Donghyuck on his way home from Yangyang’s house, no matter how drunk or high he is right now. The man has done nothing but annoy you in your short, 23 year old life, and you’re not going to change out of your pajamas just to drive a few miles to get your dumb neighbor back home.

You’re not going to lose your beauty sleep for this. No, not at all.

Still, your eyes only close when you see the light in Lee Donghyuck’s room go on and the shadow of his slouched figure safely hits his bedsheets, another smaller frame coming to close his door and shut the blinds off, turning the light back off. 

The next Monday, you find yourself sitting in your Film theory class alongside your roommate Aeri that’s currently snoozing in the middle of the lecture. You can’t really blame her, since she only got home from her romantic retreat (read as: hanging out at Eric Sohn’s house the whole weekend and having sex possibly on every surface of his little flat downtown) on Sunday evening, and you can only imagine that she didn’t have much sleep during her stay there. 

And the class was boring, to add another reason for your roommate's nap. It’s not like you weren’t interested in the theory behind every movie, like the topic itself wasn’t interesting– you quite enjoyed wondering about all the special details in each movie that complete the story and make the atmosphere pop just in the right way– but the professor currently standing at the very bottom of the auditorium is old enough to be there when the Lumiére brothers showed the first ever movie to the public back in the 19th century, and his age only matches with the monotonous style of his teaching. Which means that his voice is mellow, but close enough to a lullaby, and with the amount of issues you have when paying attention in general, the lack of focus caused by this only feeds your distraction during the lectures, resulting in you not really being the top of the class in this specific subject.

So when you hear the professor mutter something under his nose about a project in pairs you’ll have to submit until the end of the semester, you feel your heart drop down to your stomach, all alert. Suddenly, you’re 100% present, brain racking about all the possible solutions and ways you could go around this just so you could pass the subject this year. 

Because frankly speaking, at the moment, you’re failing the class. And if you don’t manage to get a good grade on this final project, you’re going to have to retake the class next year– and trust me, another year listening to the monotonous lectures won’t make you pass easier, since you can only imagine the boredom will only grow once you’re in this class the second year in a row and you'd already heard all of the lectures once before.

“What was that?” Aeri mumbles under her nose when she notices you staring at the front of the classroom with wide eyes, an expression close to one you'd wear after seeing a ghost (with the age of your professor, you might as well have). She often tells you you look like a deer in the headlights when you get shocked or stressed-out, and you can’t say that comment doesn’t make you insecure. Still, you can’t quite control it when you sigh and turn to your roommate with a distressed look on your face.

“We have a final assignment to do,” you mumble, “in pairs.”

“Amazing, we’re doing it together, then,” she yawns, stretching a little before slumping over the desk again, ready for round two of her nap. 

“Fuck no,” you quickly dart, looking at her with furrowed brows.

“What do you mean, no?” 

Sighing, watching as she opens her eyes and looks at you with an offended expression on her face, you shake your head in disapproval and lower your voice, careful to explain yourself. “Look, girl, I love you, you know that,” you assure, “but we are both failing this fucking class. And I can’t afford to do badly just because the both of us suck, because I am not retaking this atrocious class ever again, so I suggest that the both of us find someone with good grades to leech from and get this over with.”

Aeri squints at you, seemingly lost in thought– more so contemplating your master plan– before she leans back in her chair and cautiously looks around the room. “You have a point there.”

“See? It’s nothing personal,” you chuckle, seeing as your roommate nods to herself.

“Okay, I’ll flutter my eyelashes at Shotaro,” she turns to you, eyes bright with the newly made plan, “we’re both Japanese, so he’s not legally allowed to turn me down.”

Rolling your eyes at her comment, you only nod in approval to her idea. Shotaro was one of the best in this class, so you can imagine that working with him would satisfy your professor enough to let Aeri pass the class this year. The only thing left to do was find the culprit to your own plan– you needed to team up with someone good enough to at least make you get a D on your final. And since half of the class was just as good as you in this particular subject, there weren’t many candidates left.

Eyes scanning the crowd (thank god you chose to sit in the back again), your gaze lands on a particular man sitting a few rows under you, a little bit to your right. Helplessly searching through the flood of your classmates currently occupying the auditorium, you sigh to yourself in realization, already dreading what’s about to come when the class is dismissed and you hurriedly walk over to the only person that can help you now, before he escapes the university grounds and you’re going to have to shamefully text him or ring his doorbell this afternoon.

“Donghyuck! Wait!” you yell after him, legs taking you closer to the man in question, now standing still in the middle of the moving crowd, watching you in curiosity.

“What’s up, neighbor?” he asks with a lazy smile, the tug at his lips only making your blood boil and your insides tighten into a bundle of nerves. Everything about him was ticking you off, the slouch in his shoulders making you want to stand behind him and fix his bad posture and slap the back of his head so you no longer have to look at him standing like a hermit crab, the glint in his eyes making you want to curl your fingers into a fist and slam your hand against a wall. The seemingly strong emotions of annoyance run through your veins whenever you interact with Lee Donghyuck, it seems, but the senile voice of your professor keeps repeating itself somewhere in the back of your head throughout the whole interaction, and so you choose to take a deep breath in and out before you smile at the man and prepare your best speech– you can't afford to be picky with this any longer.

“Who are you doing the project with?” you ask innocently at first, trying to get some info out of him.

He offers you a suspicious look, but replies nonetheless. “I’m not sure yet,” he sighs, “I was thinking of chasing down Haknyeon, but you stopped me in my tracks…” he shakes his head at you, teasing. 

“Hmm, I see,” you mumble, more for the effect than for anything else, “well, what if we do it together?”

There aren’t many instances in which you could catch Lee Donghyuck completely silent. Now is one of them, though, as he watches you with wide, surprised eyes, furrowed brows and his plump lips slightly agape, breathing in a few times before he shakes his head as if to reset the system, snickering to himself. “Us two?”

“Yeah, why not?” you peep, shrugging.

“Look, respectfully,” Donghyuck starts, and you brace yourself for the impact, “your grades in this class aren’t as good as mine, and even though I’d love to do it with you, I don’t wanna be the one doing all the work and–”

“I’ll help!” you snap, maybe too urgently for your own liking. “I promise. I’ll do everything in my power, I just really need your help with this,” you plea, looking at him with what you pray are your best puppy eyes, seeing as the man in front of you chuckles at the expression and averts his gaze from you for a heartbeat, signaling that you were most likely unsuccessful at the attempt.

“Sorry, Y/N,” he shrugs, shaking his head at you, even going as far as taking one step away from you, “see, if you hadn't declined my call on Friday, maybe I’d take this offer as a way to repay the favor, but you know…”

“I threw you toilet paper before, Donghyuck, you can’t be shitting me right now–” you feel your blood boil at the note, the ever so familiar annoyance seeping back into your bones.

“That was nothing–”

“You seemed pretty desperate back then.”

“That was the past, sweetheart,” he chuckles, taking another step away from you, somehow overthrowing your annoyance with pure, embarrassing desperation as you chase after him and stop him with a swift motion of your hand, catching him by his wrist. He stares at you with a shiteating grin on his face, one he always uses to get a reaction from you, and somehow, you know this is all a game for him, a stupid tug of war, but you can’t help it– you are in a desperate situation. So if you need to say please to the man and humiliate yourself in front of him just to pass this class, then so be it.

“Please, Hyuck? Just this once, I swear I’ll make it up to you. Literally, say anything, I’m gonna do it, I just really need to pass this class,” you mumble, a pout forming at your lips as you clasp your hands together– much like he did back when you two communicated through the window of his bathroom– and you swear you can see the gears in his brain turning when he calculates his next move and tells you his answer.

“Anything?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” you nod, hoping that Lee Donghyuck still has some dignity in him and wouldn’t ask for anything that would make you uncomfortable. He’s annoying, sure, but he’s not a dick, after all.

“Okay, then,” he nods, tone of voice airy, underlined with laughter, “be my personal driver for the entirety of the project, then. I’ll do it if you drive me places,” he grins, and that’s when your composure falls.

“Absolutely not.”

“Well then, say goodbye to the grade!”

Putting your arm around the passenger’s seat headrest, twisting your whole body as you look back and reverse the car into the parking spot in front of the mall, you see the figure next to you still in its place, eyes alert and staring at you. “If you’re so terrified of me driving, why did you want me to do this in the first place?” you sigh, finally turning back to the front and turning the engine off once you're standing straight between the lines, satisfied with your job.

“That’s- that’s not it,” he clears his throat and gulps nervously, shaking his head. “Anyways, let’s go,” Donghyuck says, slapping his thighs like parents do when it’s time to leave a family gathering, grinning at you widely as he waits for you to get out of the vehicle.

“What do you mean, let’s go? I drove you here, I can go now,” you glare, not satisfied with the way your Wednesday afternoon was going. You only agreed to the deal on Monday, and Donghyuck already made you drive him home after class twice and also asked you to drive him to the school this morning. Having him constantly leeching around you and making you drive him places wasn’t exactly fun, since he always asked weird questions and made fun of your bored face at every red light, so you really, desperately, needed him to be gone already so you could head home and scream into your pillow to unwind the nerves. 

“Well, how am I supposed to get back when I’m done shopping?” he innocently asks, pouting at you. “My hands are gonna be full with bags and you’re gonna have to come pick me up, because that’s the deal, and I can’t afford to wait with my hands full until you get back here, so you might as well stay and come with me, so it’s convenient.”

“Nothing about this is convenient for me,” you mumble, but comply with his orders nonetheless. “Why don’t you get a car? Or take a bus back?”

“Buses smell and I don’t have a license,” he mutters, “besides, I have you now to be my personal taxi driver, so I don't need a car,” he shrugs, walking alongside you to the mall. 

His confession startles you, makes you halt in your step as the boy looks at you with defeated eyes, already knowing what’s next. This scenario has happened to him multiple times before– he’s best friends with Huang Renjun and Liu Yangyang, he’s in for a teasing at every single action of his that goes just slightly wrong– but to hear it from you will surely feel more humbling to the man. Closing his eyes as if to not see the grin overtaking your features, he sighs. “What?”

“You don’t have a license?” you tease, snickering. “For real?”

“No.”

“Why? You failed the test?” you ask again, catching up to the male and falling in with his quick pace, enjoying the fact that you now have the upper hand on him for once.

“Never really tried getting it in the first place,” he mumbles, shrugging. 

“Why?”

“I dunno,” he shamefully ducks his head, “it seems scary,” he adds, making you snort out at his confession.

“Fucking hell dude,” you laugh out now, swatting his shoulder in a teasing manner, “that’s so embarrassing, it’s not even really that difficult in the first place–”

“I don’t know what’s more embarrassing,” he cuts you off, tone of voice laced with frustration as he realizes you are a bit too amused at him admitting to one of his fears, “is it me not having a license or you driving me around because you're failing a class… Hm?” he asks, locking eyes with you, lips pressed shut into a straight line, and suddenly, your composures exchange. He won. Again.

“Anyways, let’s get going!” he smiles, dismissing the previous discussion as he tugs you by your hand into one of the stores right in the middle of the mall.

You should’ve already predicted that shopping with Lee Donghyuck would be exhausting. Not only did he demand to know your opinion on every single thing he tried on, he also wanted you to pick up something for him to try– as if driving him here wasn’t too much work for you as it was. All you wanted to do was walk back to your car and get away from him as soon as possible, but with the way he teasingly poked your sides every time you weren’t paying attention and turned to your phone to entertain yourself with some mindless scrolling on social media, you weren’t able to escape even mentally, no matter how hard you tried. 

“Why don’t you try something on?” 

“I’m not in the mood,” you glare, walking out of the last store in the whole entire mall, the sky behind the glass doors already dark from how late it’s gotten. You’re pretty sure it’s gonna close soon, but checking the time on your phone, you’re relieved to learn that you still have enough time to get boba from the stand at the entrance of the mall. You deserve a little treat after involuntarily hanging out with Lee Donghyuck the whole day, after all. Call it your girl dinner, or something.

“Taro milk tea with coconut jelly, please,” you smile at the tired barista behind the counter, noticing the way Donghyuck stands next to you and looks at the menu. You expect him to order a drink for himself as well, and surely, he doesn’t disappoint as he smiles at the girl, the tone of his voice sweet and considerate– so far away from the way he speaks to you on a daily basis– as he asks for his own drink.

“Will you pay together or separately?” she asks.

“Separate–”

“Together,” your companion cuts you off, grinning at you when you glare at the man, sighing at his antics.

“Come on, I already drive you everywhere, do you think gas is cheap? Now you want me to pay for your boba as well?” you whine, reaching for your wallet as you frown at the male, his confused eyes bearing into yours when he slightly nudges you from his way, offering the girl behind the counter his card instead. The action shuts you up, making the gears in your brain turn faster as you watch him in the action, and it doesn't fully register yet, but you're left feeling a bit taken aback and sheepish when the cashier hands him the receipt.

“I was gonna buy it for you as a thank you for the nice day, but now you’re making me look like I felt pressured to,” he sighs, shaking his head at your little tantrum. His actions still don’t register in your brain, though, his words resonating all the way through your ears to your Wernicke’s area and right back, hanging everywhere in the air of the mall, shock making your body still. Then, it hits you.

“Ah,” you gasp, feeling the tips of your ears burning with shame at the fact that you managed to ruin his nice gesture, your eyes scanning the space in a poor attempt to not look at him or the cashier still watching your exchange.

“Get your drink and let’s go,” he nudges you instead, rolling his eyes for good measure as he walks out of the mall, nearing your car in the parking lot.

“Look at this, look! Isn’t it funny?” Donghyuck hovers over you with his phone in his hand, giggling to himself as he tries to make you look at the screen. You don’t really know why he’s trying to get a laugh out of you, honestly, but he’s currently doing everything but that as you’re sat in his living room, legs plopped up onto the sofa and crossed in front of you, waiting patiently– but also kind of boiling on the inside out of frustration– for him to pay attention to you.

“Hyuck, I didn’t come here to watch Tiktoks with you,” you say, eyes sharp, tone of your voice cutting like razors– efficiently making him look up from his screen and meet your gaze with an amused grin, “I’m not really sure if you forgot, but I came to discuss the project,” you mutter, sighing.

“Jeez,” you see him roll his eyes, the energy around him still not shifting as he maintains his casual and unfocused composure, but you know that on the inside, he's enjoying the view– your angry face seems to be his most favorite thing to stare at recently, “didn’t know you lack a sense of humor.”

“What?” you look at him, confused, quite frankly, before you shake your head in disbelief at the comment. “You know what, just put the phone away for 5 seconds and finally talk to me about the project, smart boy, or else I’m not wasting my time here any longer and I’m leaving.”

“You’re acting as if you’re the one putting in work,” he mumbles, snickering.

“I will be putting in work when you tell me what to do!”

At your sentence, Donghyuck finally puts his phone back at the coffee table and shifts a little in his seat, facing you and scratching the back of his head, seemingly lost in thought. You let him, convinced that if you speak up and cut off his train of thought, the poor boy wouldn’t be able to get back to it again, waiting for him to be done with his brain weaving so you can pick up on them and ride them out, seeming at least decently smart (or not completely stupid). When he finally speaks up, he licks his lips and shrugs.

“We just gotta pick a theme and do our best portraying it with no words in a 3 minute clip, right?” he asks you in reassurance, as if you were the most reliable source of information when it comes to this class and its assignments.

“Yeah,” still, you agree.

“Well, then we just gotta pick a theme and the rest will be easy,” he nods to himself, reaching back for his phone, which you swiftly take from his hold and hide behind your body. 

“Hey–”

“We’re not done talking about this! I’m not letting you use your phone, because you’re just gonna scroll on Tiktok instead of thinking about this,” you squint at him, twisting and turning in your seat as his hands try to sneak around your sitting figure and take the device out of your grasp. 

He seems determined as his arm lands on your elbow, a victorious grin smoothly swiped off his face when you sit on his phone and flash him a wide grin. “I’ll give it back when we have the theme down!”

“That’s an invasion of my privacy,” Donghyuck mumbles, and you roll your eyes at him, pointing a finger to his shoulder.

“That’s not what an invasion of privacy means, but whatever floats your boat…” you mumble, watching him sit back in his seat, defeated as his shoulders slouch and his gaze is glued to the wall in front of him. You’re not sure what’s so interesting about the white paint, but at least there’s not the noise of his phone filling your ears right now– you’re more than okay with silence, since you don't get to hear it often when Donghyuck is present. You would like it better if he spoke up and talked to you about the assignment, but if you had to choose between him being annoying and him being quiet, you think everyone knows which one of the two you’d prefer.

“So?” you test the waters after a while, seeing if your project partner decides to finally comply with your request and discuss the important matters.

“So? Do you got any ideas?” he teases, watching you with challenging eyes.

Clearing your throat, caught off guard at the request– you assumed he’d tell you exactly what to do and you just have to do it and follow his lead, essentially not putting in much effort and still being sure of passing the class– but it seems like Lee Donghyuck won’t let you off that easily. You should've expected it. Being difficult is his favorite hobby, after all.

“Well, you’re the smart one here, so…” you shrug, trying the method that always works on men– and that is praising them.

“So you’re saying you’re stupid?”

“If it works in my favor during this conversation, then sure,” you nod, smiling at him in irony. Hyuck gives you a defeated sigh, shaking his head at you before he clicks his tongue at you and finally gives in.

“Okay, so, I was thinking we should pick a theme that fits the current social struggles, but after hearing this, I don't think feminism is our best choice,” he mutters.

“Like you’d know anything about feminism–”

“What do you have me for?” Donghyuck sharply glares at you, clicking his tongue at you in pure offense. “I am a fan of Little women, I'll have you know, of course I’m a feminist.”

“Well, you must be a fake fan, since everything about this deal is just me majorly girlbossing,” you point out, trying really hard to prove your point.

“Are you even being serious right now–”

“Anyways,” you cut him off, “what were you thinking?”

The man sighs and shakes his head at you in disbelief, but still speaks up again nonetheless. “I was thinking, well, maybe we could pick something that would really play into the old man’s feelings, you know, so we get him all sentimental and moved to tears…” he starts off, tone of voice now completely serious, making him sound kind of smart– startling you in the process, “that leaves us with a few possible options. We could do something with the 18 hundreds, or… fishing? I heard he’s into fishing. Or we could do something more abstract and shoot something about youth, since he’s very old and this could get him nostalgic. Or!” he suddenly perks up in his seat, eyes wide and a disturbing grin sitting at his lips, “we could include nudity! He’s a man, after all… wanna shoot porn? We don’t need words for porn.”

In absolute disbelief, you stare at the man with eyes wide open, blinking a few times and taking a few seconds to yourself to process the monologue you just listened to. You knew he was absolutely insufferable, but you didn’t know he was this much of a dumb freak. 

Taking your silence for disgust, Donghyuck just nods to himself and purses his lips.

“Youth it is, then… I mean, nudity would be difficult to present in front of the class for sure–” he admits, pouting.

“Yeah, like that’s the only problem with that idea…”

Afternoon classes aren’t your favorite ones of the week and although you absolutely despise waking up early and having to commute to university while you’re still half-asleep and absolutely irritated, there’s nothing that infuriates you more than knowing you could be done with the day already, sitting at home and watching your favorite TV show, only if it wasn’t for the responsibility of having to stay at campus and sit through another hour and a half lecture on a Thursday afternoon, way too late for your brain to be working in those hours.

This is one of the only classes you don’t share with your roommate Aeri– which makes the lecture that more excruciating, since you don’t have anyone with you that you could gossip with about your classmates or friends from back home when it gets too boring and you can't bear sitting in silence and forcing yourself to focus anymore– but there is one person from your circle that you do share this class with, and yes, you already guessed it; it’s Lee Donghyuck.

You don’t know when you’ve gotten so close to the point where he sits in the vacant seat right next to you almost immediately, followed by his friend Ju Haknyeon who you’ve never even spoken to before, but he still does so nonetheless, every Thursday, just so he could annoy you with his only half-funny remarks to every other sentence that comes out of your Animation class professor’s mouth. 

“What are you doing this weekend?” you hear Haknyeon ask the devil sitting on your left, and trust me, you don’t really like listening to other people’s conversations (that’s a lie, you live for gossip. You just wish you knew the least amount of information about Lee Donghyuck as possible, because sometimes you learn fun facts you wish never joined your brain), but you can’t really help it this time, can you? Haknyeon doesn’t know what whispering is, and you’re convinced Donghyuck would love everyone to hear him talk and give him attention anyway. 

“Not really sure,” Donghyuck replies, “Renjun bailed on me, said he’s going to the shelter with his girlfriend again, so I was thinking, right? You know, I’d looove to go on a road trip, and it’s crazy, you know, because–”

The words coming out of his mouth instantly make you alert, snapping your head around to make eye contact with the man that’s already staring at you with a shit-eating grin on his face, knowing you’re listening to them talk. “Lee Donghyuck, I am not going on a road trip with you–”

“See, Y/N here is my personal driver for the semester, so she can’t really say no–” Donghyuck continues, enjoying the way your face distorts into a pained scowl, your hand coming up into your hair to tug at the roots in frustration.

“If you make me do this, I’m going to open your door while we’re going 120km/h on a crowded highway and throw you out so you die under the wheels of someone else and I don't face the consequences,” you propose, shaking your head in disbelief, your voice shushed due to you still not wanting to be heard by the whole classroom, but still loud enough for both of the boys to chuckle.

“Come on, I bet you’d have fun. I have the best playlists for road trips, you know,” Hyuck teases, poking you with the tip of his pen, to which you click your tongue and move a bit further away from the male. 

“The last time I drove you somewhere that was more than a 10 minute drive, you had Céline Dion on loop, so I don’t know just how believable this claim is.”

“That’s disrespectful to the legend Céline Dion is, dear Y/N, and I’d take it back before her ghost comes to haunt you at night.”

“Is she even dead in the first place?” you squint at him, at disbelief of his words.

“She’s not,” Haknyeon chimes in from the side, shaking his head at the both of you before he chuckles, “you two argue like a married couple.”

“I would rather die than to marry him–”

“See, Hak, Y/N just hasn’t realized she’s in love with me yet,” Hyuck adds, clicking his tongue at his seatmate, “but she’s gonna realize it somewhere during our 5 hour long road trip, I’m sure. Just wait, it’s gonna happen soon.”

The class gets dismissed somewhere in the middle of the argument, and as you’re gathering your things to go, you hear the two of them talk among themselves, not really including you in their conversation anymore (which you’re glad for, frankly). 

“Are you going home after class?” Haknyeon asks.

“No,” Donghyuck shakes his head in disapproval, and there it is– the shit-eating grin appears on his face when he initiates eye contact with you and snickers, “Y/N and I are actually getting fried chicken at this place downtown, since I got coupons– well, Renjun got coupons for free chicken from his uncle last week, but he doesn’t like chicken that much, so I stole them from him–”

“Huh?” you scowl at him, wondering if you heard right. “I’m not getting chicken with you.”

“Of course you are,” Hyuck announces, “the coupons expire tomorrow, so we gotta do it today. I know you’re not busy, come on.”

“I’d rather choke than to spend any more time with you than I already have today, Donghyuck. Go with Haknyeon,” you say, pointing to the clueless senior staring at the both of you in wonder.

“Yeah, go with me, man,” he shakes his head, “I like chicken.”

“Unfortunately, this offer only applies to people that have a working car that could drive me there, so in case you wanna get your shiny BMW fixed in the next 24 hours, I can save the coupons for you,” Hyuck chimes, smiling innocently at his friend.

“What are you even talking about?” you mutter, tone of voice pained.

“Look, do you wanna get out of the road trip on Saturday, or not?” he stares at you, his gaze flaming as you sigh more for him to hear than to get out your frustration– you learned long ago that it does nothing to calm you down, worse, it makes you even more infuriated.

“Woah, Donghyuck!” you exclaim, fake excitement written all over your features. “Chicken actually sounds so good right now!”

That’s how you appear in one of the fried chicken places downtown, your car parked in their tiny parking lot, with Donghyuck excitedly skipping towards the restaurant with the bunch of coupons in his hands. You don’t really know why he insists on spending time with you– he could get a bus here or drive with one of his other friends that own a car, and you’re certain you are not the only one on his list– so the whole interaction makes you slightly confused. Still, you enjoy the free meal– like any other broke college student would– and when Donghyuck eats, his mouth is usually shut, so you don’t find that many negatives in this whole thing, after all.

“What are you thinking of doing for the project, by the way?” you ask, wiping your greasy fingers on one of the napkins Hyuck had offered to you just a few seconds prior after noticing your dismay at the state of your hands. You don’t like it when you get dirty with food, but you’d rather not eat at all than to eat fried chicken with a fork, so you guess this is the price you have to pay.

“You keep talking about the project,” he shakes his head, chuckling, “don’t worry about it. I have it covered.”

“What do you mean, you have it covered? This is supposed to be teamwork. Just because I drive you around, it doesn’t mean I won’t put my hand in– you’ll complain too much if I don’t,” you mutter after you swallow, rolling your eyes at him. He keeps saying the same thing each time you ask him– you’re suspecting that he has zero idea at all, and he’s just bluffing to make you feel more comfortable. Hell, you might even fail while working with Donghyuck and your whole plan is going to be ruined, for all you know.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, grinning, “we got the theme, so half the work is already done. We’ll just have to take one day to shoot some scenes on a field or something, and then I can edit it and put some sad music over it, and we’re sold. Trust me, I am a straight A student, I know what I'm doing.”

“You are not a straight A student, Lee Donghyuck,” you glare at him, not believing a single word that's just came out of his mouth.

“Okay well,” he shrugs, taking a sip of his coca-cola that he got for free with the order, “maybe I’m not. But you can count on me with this, hon.”

Sighing to yourself, you shake your head at him. “Don’t ever call me that ever again.”

“Hyuck,” you call for the male, nestling a little in your seat and scratching the back of your neck in frustration.

“Hm?”

“You said we were going to work on the project today, am I correct?” you ask, watching as the male walks up to you from the kitchen area of the room, a bowl full of popcorn in his hand as he plops on the sofa next to you (on the only area that allows you to lay down comfortably and still face the TV, also known as the spot you’ve already laid on, making the two of you almost uncomfortably close in the small space), a bottle of coke situated under his right shoulder.

“Correct,” he nods, reaching for the TV remote he spent approximately 15 minutes searching for in between the cushions of the sofa when you arrived, screaming at his poor roommate for losing it again as the shorter boy just grimaced at you and escaped the flat to hang out with someone you heard him call RJ! y/n.

Humming to yourself, you nod. “Okay, then… why the living fuck are we watching Hunger games right now?” you ask, tone of voice laced in frustration.

Donghyuck doesn’t reply to you for a while as he fumbles with the TV remote (and frankly, you don’t really know why he’s so focused, it doesn’t take much to just press play), but when he looks back at you and sees your gaze impatiently glued to his forehead, he shrugs. “We gotta find some inspiration first, you know,” he innocently states, “Hunger games is a movie about youth if I’ve ever seen one.”

“We’ve both already seen Hunger games, Hyuck,” you whine, but take a hand-full of popcorn out of the bowl that’s currently sitting in his lap. 

“How do you know that I have seen it already?”

“You just said so, you dumb fuck,” you mutter as you roll your eyes, watching the opening credits start. You can do nothing else than settle deeper into the sofa and watch the painfully long movie with your annoying neighbor now, and you despise the fact.

Well, you could do something else. There are many things, to be exact– you could either protest so much that Donghyuck finally gives in and turns the movie off, focusing his efforts into actually working on your project. If that doesn’t work, you can fight him for the remote, but you can’t really know if that wouldn’t make him pettily give you the silent treatment, which is exactly the opposite of what you’d like to be doing right now. Or you could just give up– seeing that you’re not gonna get much work done today– and stand up and go home. It’s not like you live that far away anyways… 

But still, you stay and watch the movie with him. You’ve seen it at least three times already, having watched it recently with Aeri when the movie had its second wave of fame on Tiktok, so you’re pretty sure that if you tried hard enough, you’d be able to recite the script alongside the actors, word-for-word, 100% correct and exact, right on time. You stay and watch Hunger games with Lee Donghyuck– why exactly, you still don’t know– and you find yourself enjoying the experience. It’s not as boring when you hear your neighbor annoyingly comment on each and every little thing that happens in the movie, his nasal voice cracking jokes and jumping into the conversations as if he was a part of the cinematic universe. Somewhere along the way, you join in with him, laughing and giggling when your roleplay gets too silly, and before you know it, the movie is about to end and you’re finally going to be free to work on the project with him.

Donghyuck gets unusually quiet towards the last part of the movie. You turn your head to him, ready to crack jokes at the tears you’re expecting to see in his eyes because of the emotional outro– Katnis and Peeta’s berry scene got you the first and the second time you watched the movie, the third time not so much, since Aeri kept pausing the movie for pee breaks, ruining the full effect– only to witness the man’s head falling to your shoulder the exact second you try to lock your gaze with him; your neighbor having passed out somewhere in the middle of the movie. You foolishly jump just the slightest bit at the contact, opening your mouth to say something to him that could wake him up, your instincts telling you to move away from the already uncomfortable closeness of your bodies and give yourself more space.

But as your lips part and you’re about to protest, you notice his own lips apart in a small pout, his cheeks appearing softer now that one of them is smashed against your shoulder, his long eyelashes fanning over the bones of his cheeks. The blue hue of the TV paints his cheeks rosier in the dim light, making you notice the moles on his face for the first time– leading you to count them and mentally create constellations between them as your gaze focuses from all the different places of his face to another. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you shut your mouth and awkwardly make yourself look away from your annoying neighbor, cracking the knuckles of your hands that have been resting in your lap; but when the credits of the movie roll and you have nowhere else to focus your gaze on, you find yourself scanning the man up and down again, orbs catching every detail of his suddenly so pure being.

He is wearing gray sweatpants, the fabric hanging low on his waist, a plain black tee adorning his upper figure. He doesn’t often look this casual when he comes to class, opting to wear jeans or pants more formal, so you foolishly admire the cozy fit he has going on, not quite used to seeing Donghyuck looking this homey. His clasped hands resting in his lap catch your attention next, the soft skin adorning his slender fingers looking way too inviting right now as you subconsciously want to glaze your fingertips against the surface of his palm, just to see if your suspicions are right and his skin is just as gentle as it seems to be to the eye, and you almost do it– for scientific reasons, of course– before you catch yourself and almost mentally slap yourself for being so foolish.

What the hell is going on with you right now? You should wake him up now– the movie is already over, there’s no use in you staying over any longer if he’s asleep and won’t work on the project with you anymore– but you find yourself freezing each time your eyes focus on the creature sleeping against your shoulder, so soft and comfortable it makes your insides squeeze in warmth. It’s a strange sensation, and even a stranger one to feel for a person that annoys you the most in this world, and you can't bring yourself to do anything else than to overthink the simple fact. 

He can sleep for a few more minutes. You don’t mind. He must be tired, you think– he deserves 10 more minutes, maybe even 15– you won’t disturb him. The silence is strangely comforting, after all.

He can sleep for a few more minutes, you think– but the exact moment those thoughts roam around your head again, the front door to Donghyuck’s apartment opens and his roommate stands still in the doorframe of his living room, gazing at you with suspicion in his gaze. You quickly jump away from your project partner when eye contact with Huang Renjun is made, feeling the tips of your ears heating up in shame as you scatter to your feet and scramble for your things. You feel like you were just caught red-handed, doing something you shouldn’t have been doing, and you can’t bear the thought any longer. You need to get out.

A dissatisfied noise leaves Hyuck’s mouth as he wakes up to the impact of your movement, squinted eyes watching you as Renjun just laughs at your antics, shaking his head as if to tell you that he knows something you don’t. You don’t wanna hear it.

“Where are you going?” Donghyuck asks, voice laced with sleep. 

“Home,” you snap, running your hand through your hair as you move through the door frame that separates the living room from their entrance hall. “We can’t work on the project if you’re asleep, so I might as well just go and not waste my time here any longer!” you offer him, making sure to save your face by putting just enough pretended frustration into the comment as you put on your shoes and don't look back at him– however inviting the mental image of him seems in your brain– before you shut the door after yourself and leave.

dongfuck – drive me to mcdonalds

you – well hello to you too you – no.

dongfuck – >:( dongfuck – please

you – its 2am dude

dongfuck – your point..?

Sighing, scrambling for your things as quietly as possible to not wake up your sleep deprived flatmate, you get dressed in comfortable sweatpants, throwing a hoodie on to shield yourself from the chilly air. The walk down the stairs doesn’t take you more than a few minutes before you’re standing in the parking lot of your apartment complex, already seeing Donghyuck’s figure leaning on the side of your car, almost looking like he owns it– he does act like it lately, to be fair. 

“I knew you’d come,” he snickers as you roll your eyes at him, pressing the button on your car key to unlock the doors, watching as the man swiftly opens the driver’s side for you and then jogs towards the passenger’s side to get in, an excited stride in his step.

“I’m only here because I haven’t eaten dinner and chicken nuggets sound absolutely amazing right now,” you mutter, “don’t get too ahead of yourself. None of this is for you,” you grin, fastening your seatbelt and adjusting the rearview mirror just the slightest before turning on the engine and driving off the parking lot.

Donghyuck only shakes his head at you, a bright grin playing with his features. “Of course,” he hums, “wouldn’t want me to think that you actually want to hang out for once.”

“Of course,” you nod, “because that would be a lie. My goal is chicken nuggets, nothing else. And if I manage to get them out of you for free, that’s even better.”

“Who said I’m paying?”

“The gas station clerk did when I last went to get gas, actually! He told me I’m using twice as much gas lately because I’m driving a certain dumbass around, and I’m paying for all of the gas myself, can you believe it?” you shake your head, teasing him as you turn right on the main road, already seeing the McDonald’s in the distance. 

“That’s a strange way to talk to a customer,” Donghyuck squints his eyes at you, watching as you slow down when getting into the food chain’s parking lot, ready to drive up to the drive-through window and order your late night snacks.

“At least he’s looking out for me,” you shrug, teasing the male. “I better order a hefty meal, since you’re paying and all…” you mumble, looking over the poster to your left, tapping your chin, trying to look lost in thought. 

Hearing the man next to you scoff– already satisfied with how frustrated you’ve managed to make him– you pretend to look over the most expensive parts of the menu. “I’m starting to regret my decision,” Donghyuck adds, but the tone in his voice is light.

After a few more minutes of picking out your menu, you both order your meals and wait for them at the window. It doesn’t take long, since you’re the only ones in the whole place, and before you know it, Donghyuck is pressing his card into your palm, nudging you to pay for both of your meals. The gesture should be expected– you pretty much plastered him into doing this with how much you teased and complained– but it still shocks you when he does it with no other annoyed comments, watching as you offer it to the cashier and smile at him in thanks, taking the bags of food and driving off into the very back of the whole parking lot, turning the engine off and settling into the dark.

You tug your feet up to your seat, sitting crossed-legged in the small space as you face your companion, watching as he offers you the bag of food and digs into his own fries as well, scanning you from the corner of his eye. Now is the time you finally get to admire his attire for the first time the whole night– you never knew you had a thing for guys in sweatpants and oversized jackets, but the way your breathing almost catches in your throat at the sight of Donghyuck dressed so cozily again should be enough of a warning for you to the future. Forcefully taking your eyes off the male next to you, because you’d rather not think about the way you find yourself eyeing him lately, you eat your chicken nuggets– the ones you’ve dreamed of the whole night– and listen to the sound of your neighbor chewing on his burger. 

Feeling his eyes on you, you glare at him. “What are you staring at?”

“No take a picture, it will last longer this time?” 

“I learned my lesson from the last time,” you laugh, reminded of one of the first interactions you had with the male. “I hope you deleted the pictures, by the way.”

“No, I stare at them every night before I go to sleep,” he says, “so I’ll dream of you,” he sing-songs, laughing at the way your face distorts in discomfort at his words.

“Ah, so annoying,” you roll your eyes at him, but can’t battle the way your heart jumps a little at the sound of a laugh escaping his throat. Your eyes automatically trace his movements, noticing the way the far standing lamp post illuminates his face in just the right way, casting orange shadows over his features, making his eyes glimmer when they catch yours. Clearing your throat after being caught staring at him, you avert your gaze and finish the last of your fries, noticing the male done with his meal as well. 

“Now what?” he asks.

“We go home, what else?” you laugh, shaking your head at his question.

“But I don’t wanna go home yet,” he whines, and you already know what’s coming– pursuing, weird ideas, absurd arguments just to make you stay longer. And you’re immune to them on most days, but it’s too late in the night, so you have to cut yourself some slack. So what if you don’t want to come back yet either? It’s not a crime to want to spend some time with Lee Donghyuck.

“What a shame,” still, you tease, waiting for him to come up with a bright idea that you could use as an excuse to stay out longer.

“Oh come on,” Donghyuck mutters, “you always ruin the fun. Teach me how to drive, what do you say?”

Shocked at his preposition, you turn to him again, wide eyes and mouth agape. “What? Absolutely not.”

“Why? The parking lot’s empty. I can’t possibly be that bad that I crash your car into nothing. Come on!” he pleads, going even as far as pouting at you– not really knowing that the expression has you shamefully stare at his lips for a split second, insides heating up– and realistically, you should have warning signs blinking at you from everywhere in your brain, an alarm going off to tell you that this is not a good idea at all, but you’re too stunned to come up with another plan for the rest of your evening, and, well, you may be getting a little weak for the annoying gemini. He's right, though– what could possibly go wrong? 

So you only sigh in response, opening the door and getting out of your seat, watching as Donghyuck excitedly mirrors your motions and jogs to the driver’s seat, ready to possibly ruin your evening and your car at the same time. When you’re back safe inside of the car, you quickly fasten your seatbelt, a sign of your sense of self preservation still working well, watching Donghyuck move your seat further back so he can comfortably reach the pedals. His focused face is in your full view as he adjusts all the mirrors possible, and only then is when you notice him chewing on the inside of his cheek– in either nerves or concentration, you can’t really tell right now– and the sight makes you halt him in his motions before he manages to start the engine.

“Have you ever done this before?” you ask, watching as he turns to you with wide eyes, shaking his head in disagreement.

“No,” he peeps, laughing to himself, “Yangyang declined me the last time I asked.”

“Yeah, because he has a working brain,” you whisper under your breath, still in disbelief of what you allowed to happen, “so… can you reach the pedals?”

“I can.”

“And you see the whole back window in this mirror, right?” you ask, pointing to the rearview mirror, watching as Donghyuck nods.

“Positive.”

“Great. So… start the engine now, I guess?” you say, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you see him nod and reach for the keys, turning them. The car instantly comes alive right in front of him all while Hyuck seems  absolutely clueless, looking at you with big, adorable eyes, and you take it as your cue to instruct him on his next moves.

“Now press the clutch– the far left pedal– and move the gear stick into the first gear,” you say, watching as the boy slowly does as you say, reaching for the device and moving it to the desired place. “Good. Now, keep pressing the clutch and slowly start pressing the accelerator– the far right pedal– while also slowly letting go of the clutch until you get to the point where the car starts moving on itself. That’s when you don’t let go of the clutch, but keep it at that same exact spot, and put a bit more acceleration until the wheels spin like, once or twice. Only then can you keep your leg off the clutch.” 

“You’re kinda hot when you tell me what to do,” Hyuck mumbles, but the flirting doesn’t quite come through when his face is focused at the road and his composure seems shaken, too stressed out to actually mean the words coming out of his mouth.

“Shut up and do what I said,” you snarl, seeing as the man nods and tries moving with the car. It takes him some time, but it seems that he is a natural– the car moves without the engine dying, and suddenly, you find yourself cheering him on. “Good! Good! You’re moving!”

“Oh. My. God.” 

“Don’t panic!”

“I’m not panicking!” Hyuck hums, nodding to himself as he turns the wheel and makes a circle around the parking lot, grinning to himself with confidence. The car moves painfully slowly, and you, despite your best interest, find yourself enjoying the view– although you should probably be more worried about your own safety than you currently are. That's when you decide to challenge the male further.

“Okay, then we can shift into the second gear, it’s gonna go a little smoother,” you muse, seeing as the male nods.

His eyes stay focused on the road, though, so you take it as your cue to instruct him again. “Press on the clutch then, and move the gear stick straight down.”

“Mhm,” he hums, and presses on the clutch, but the struggle comes next as his hand flies all over the car, not quite used to the placement of the gear stick yet. Stressed, eyes glued to the road in front of him to not run into any possible obstacles in your way, he refuses to look away for even a second, and the whole sight makes your heart race in anxious agony as you reach for his hand and grip it, guiding him towards the stick and placing his palm on top of the device.

Your hold on his hand doesn’t loosen up as you guide his movements further and do it for him, just to make sure the stick really gets to its designated place and doesn't get stuck in neutral, which would make the engine die with the next press of the accelerator. His skin is soft under your touch, just like you imagined it to be, and you find yourself growing hotter the more your skin is in contact with his, the touch so innocent yet still sending you to overdrive.

“Now let go of the clutch,” you order, eyes glued to the side of Donghyuck’s head as he nods, listening to everything you say. The car now goes more smoothly and you watch him take another lap around the parking lot before you realize your hand is still gripping his on the gear stick, the information making you jump slightly in your place, clearing your throat in the awkward, tense atmosphere you managed to create for yourself.

“Okay,” you announce, “the trial is over, it’s time to press the brake– the middle pedal, if you haven't figured that out so far– and get out of my place,” you say, hoping the tone of your voice sounds as light as usual. 

The car comes to a strong halt, since Hyuck doesn’t really know how fast the brakes react yet, and if you weren’t buckled in, it’s certain that you’d go flying in your seat and smash your head against the dashboard. Breathing out when the car stills, you finally feel yourself relax, having been alert this whole time, as you squeeze Donghyuck’s hand for the last time, amidst selfishly, before you let go of it and turn towards the door, opening it and thanking the chilly air of the night for slapping you to your face. You really needed that wake up call.

Do you really need to drive a fucking manual? 

hyuck – can you drive me to yangyangs at 8

Staring at the text message on your phone, sighing to yourself at the weird discomfort in your stomach when it appears and registers in your brain, the sound catches attention of your roommate Aeri currently getting ready on the floor of your room, pressed almost uncomfortably close to the mirror. She should really wear the glasses she was prescribed.

“Donghyuck again?” she asks, staring at you through the mirror, a mischievous grin sitting on her face as she asks the crucial question.

“How’d you know?” you roll your eyes in irony, walking over to your closet and picking out your tonight’s outfit.

“Well,” she shrugs, “one, he’s like, the only person that ever texts you except for me, and two, you had that disgustingly doe eyed look on your face.”

“I so did not–”

“You so did,” she notes, putting another coat of mascara onto her long eyelashes.

“You know what? I regret telling you about this,” you mourn, scrambling for your things around your room and putting them into your bag, practically already ready to leave the apartment alongside your roommate slash best friend. When you came home last week after the McDonald’s run at 4 in the morning, you decided that sleep really wasn’t worth it anymore– as if you could fall asleep after the hotness in your whole body despite your window being wide open– and so you took a cold shower and decided to stay up in the living room, watching Netflix (more like having the show in the background as you tried hard to not have a mental breakdown at the newly found information about yourself). Aeri found you like that at 6 in the morning when she woke up to get a glass of water, and even though she was sleepy and groggy– which was probably why you decided to spill the beans so quickly– she interrogated you about the weird look on your face and it’s been a running joke between her and herself for the whole week.

“It’s really not my fault that you find our neighbor hot,” she notes, shrugging to herself.

“When did I say that? When did I say that!” 

“Well, you said you came home all flushed and that you imagined making out with him when you dropped him off back home, so that’s basically the same thing.” 

“I did not say I wanted to make out with him!” you defend yourself. You didn’t say it. You thought about it, that’s for sure, but your roommate really doesn’t have to know that. Unless she can read your thoughts, of course.

“Yeah, whatever. You and I both know it’s true.” 

Sighing, deciding that you’re ending the conversation with your roommate as long as the topic is your annoying neighbor, you turn to your phone and finally reply to his text message.

you – can’t

He replies almost instantly, as if he was waiting at his phone for the last 15 minutes, and the predictableness of his message almost makes you chuckle.

hyuck – why

you – cuz im going you – and i wanna drink you – so i cant drive

hyuck – ok that changes things then hyuck – my original mission was to get you to go there with me but this has to do i suppose hyuck – see you there ;)

Yes, you admit that you reread the messages a little too many times for your own liking. Trying to decipher the hidden meaning behind his words, you swear your brain is running a thousand miles an hour, and realistically, this is the part where you reach for your girl best friend and ask her what exactly is happening in the chat with you and the guy you’re talking to, but after the endless teasing you’ve already heard from her side, you decide against it and just turn off your screen and put the phone into your bag with the rest of your necessities.

“If you mention something about this tonight in front of Donghyuck, I’m locking you out of the apartment.”

“Ay ay, captain!”

The journey to Liu Yangyang’s house isn’t long. He’s the only one that still lives with his parents, but you can’t really blame him– the house is huge, and they are hardly ever home, because they are always on business trips in Taiwan. Half the time, it’s like the guy owns the place, and he also acts like it too, since half of the parties you’re invited to in a year are taking place at his house. 

When you get there, it seems that everyone was already there– at least the usual group, you suppose. You don’t know who else is invited, but when you arrive to Yangyang’s basement– the part of the house where he usually hosts the more chill, laid-back parties, with low music in the background, laughter resonating through the place and alcohol being passed around between people drinking straight out of the bottles– your eyes instantly zero on Donghyuck, dressed in a light bomber jacket and skin tight jeans, you decide that burning your throat with alcohol is the best thing you can do instead of audibly moaning at the sight.

Taking one of the opened bottles of Bacardi off the little camping table situated near the corner of the big room, you take a swig, not really caring about the people who have drank out of it before you– because the pandemic has taught you nothing, it seems– when you finally walk over to the group and say your greetings. Deciding that avoiding the object of your desire for the whole evening is the best plan how to survive without doing something you’re going to regret, you engage in conversation with pretty much everyone else, completely unaware of the way your neighbors eyes are burning a hole through the side of your skull, kind of offended that you haven’t come up to him first, since as far as he’s concerned, out of all the people present in the room, you spend the most time with him in the first place (with the exception of Aeri, of course, but you two live together, so it doesn't really count). In his opinion, you didn’t need to be talking to Na Jaemin right now– you’re not even friends with the man.

But still– drinking beer out of a bottle Lee Jeno passes you somewhere in the middle of the night before he disappears with his best friend to dance with them under the cigarette haze (pretty embarrassingly, you may add) – the only thing resonating through your brain is that you got this, you’re not gonna give him a single glance, you’re not gonna think about how attractive he looks in all black.

You guess that everything about the way this evening has been going is the prime example of every single college kid’s usual Friday. Sitting in a basement of Liu Yangyang’s house, your vision cloudy with a bit of alcohol and also the sweet, piney smoke of the joint that’s been passed around the room only a few minutes prior, music lowly plays in the background, adding a relaxed, yet exciting and bubbling atmosphere to it all– it’s the epitome of the experience you imagine before you go to college when you’re 15 and gazing longingly outside of your window, wondering if life when you’re older will be better and more fun.

And while you don’t necessarily think life is better now– you do have a shitton of assignments to do and stress eating up your insides– you do think it’s kind of fun. Everything is more bearable when you have a group of friends by your side, and while you wouldn’t call every single person in this room right now your closest friend– a friend for life, even– you’d say everything is better than being stuck in your house on a Friday evening, mourning the break up of One Direction one more time as you watch This is us again with spoonfuls of ice cream shoveled into your mouth, figure cuddled up under the blanket with your roommate by your side.

The fun only lasts until a round of Truth or dare takes place, though. You must admit that it’s the fundamental part of the whole hang out, and yes, it’s the thing you always see in the movies. It adds a bit of spice to it all and it’s twice as fun to play when you’re a little intoxicated, but still– you’d like to think you’re too old for the game now, even though your friends believe otherwise and never fail to bring it up again.

This time, it’s Jaemin who brings it up. You shoot daggers to his skull, annoyed eyes and all, but you don’t think he notices as he continues to excitingly sway his arms in the air when he repeats the submission over and over again, finally heard by his roommate Jeno that’s just come back from the weird dancing session with his best friend that he’s very obviously pining over, and grins at his roommate in agreement, starting the game. 

“Not again,” you whine audibly, because frankly, if you wanted to survive the evening with no embarrassment and no weird thoughts about one of the party guests, you don’t think a game of Truth or dare is your best move. Your disgust makes your own roommate– that’s suddenly glued to your side, too tipsy to even walk (you heard her exclaim that her legs are too heavy to be used)– giggle, already familiar with your thoughts on the game. And frankly, that makes you even more terrified– because when Aeri is drunk, she talks even more than she does when she’s sober, and well, there’s no promising that all of the information you’ve ever shared with her will stay truly confidential when she’s under the influence.

“Don’t start again,” she says, shaking her head, “you always say you hate it, but you always end up playing it anyway.”

She’s right. It’s not like anyone is pressuring you, but you kind of feel like the situation calls for you to join in– because what else are you supposed to do, watch them? There’s no fun in watching if you’re not involved, and you’d feel like an intruder if you just watched them do all sorts of dares while not being in on the game. 

“Yeah, because you’d all whine if I didn’t,” you say instead, taking a sip of your drink, letting the bitter taste of beer slide down your throat as she rolls her eyes at you, nudging you in your side with her elbow.

“Just say you end up having fun,” she snickers, “nobody would think that’s weird, you know.”

“Yeah, whatever you say,” you shush her and pet her hair, taking advantage of the fact that you’re very obviously less tipsy than her, as you turn to the middle of the circle and wait for the game to start.

Usually, a couple of rounds pass before your name is called. You enjoy the tension– it feels like you have time to prepare to do whatever task their hazed minds come up with or answer whatever question that’s been burning on their tongue, yet, it also feels like a buildup before the big thing– a strange sense of climax, if you will. 

This time, it’s no different. A couple of minutes pass as you watch Yangyang lick the bottom of Jaemin’s foot– because Jeno always likes to come up with the nastiest, most worrying dares of them all– followed by the sight of Shotaro kissing the forehead of the most attractive guy in the circle (Renjun wasn’t happy with the wet peck left on his skin). The guys almost always pick a dare, and you think that’s an advantage, since before it’s your turn to finally participate in the game, they run out of ideas for dares that are possible to do in the weed-smelling basement of Liu Yangyang’s house and you can safely choose truth instead. It’s not like you’re not brave enough to choose dare– you did so many times before and never once backed away from the task, not even when you were dared to kiss the person on your right (that was the night you learned Kim Sunwoo wasn’t all that, because the drunken peck he pressed to your lips wasn’t all that appealing) – you just simply tried to pick the safest strategy for the game. 

Another kissing dare could suggest that you kiss the person you find the most attractive in the room right now. Or they could ask you for a lap dance on one of the guys. The possibilities are endless, and even though choosing the truth isn’t that much safer, since their questions could vary all the way from ‘What’s the color of your underwear right now?’ to ‘What is your favorite sex position?’, you’re trying to comfort yourself with the fact that you could just lie. You know it’s kind of prohibited, and that it also defeats the whole purpose of the game, but still– you’re not planning on embarrassing yourself tonight, and you were always a pretty good liar when it came to words. Actions? Not that much.

Sinked deep in the stained light orange fabric of the sofa, eyes half-lidded, you await Jaemin’s question as you tell him you did indeed pick the truth. And you were right, there are no protests coming out of the boys’ mouths this time around, seemingly tired of coming up with original ideas for their dares. 

“Come on, man, we don’t have the whole day,” Renjun nudges the boy into his ribs, annoyed with the lack of words from his friend. 

“Actually, we do. I don’t see the issue-”

“Just ask something already!” Shotaro whines from his position on the floor, his back pressed against the side of the sofa.

“Fine,” the man straightens up in his position, as if struck by a newly found sense of clarity, the look on Na Jaemin’s face reeking of insanity, “I've got something.” 

The room cautiously looks at the platinum-haired boy sitting on the floor, his back resting against an armchair in the corner of the room as he blinks a few times, seconds passing, yet there’s still nothing coming out of his mouth. 

“Are you gonna say something, or will you continue to act all dramatic…?” Jeno snickers, making his roommate roll his eyes at the jab, finally breaking the silence.

You’d argue that he just forgot what he wanted to say– with how Jaemin gets when he’s drunk, it wouldn’t be half surprising– but it seems like his roommate knows him better than you do, because the man speaks up fast, and suddenly, you take back all your impatient thoughts that urged him to ask you something already, because the question takes you by surprise and leaves you in shock, staring wide eyed and speechless.

“If you had to have sex with anyone in this room, who would you choose?” 

You no longer wish he took longer to ask you the question. No, you wish he would’ve sent it to you telepathically, so you could prepare your answer beforehand. You’d save yourself a lot of trouble– being met with the gaze of everyone, looking at you as they await your answer is truly not helping you with the difficult task of responding to the truth, when in reality, you don’t think you can manage to even say anything.

Because truthfully, if you were asked this question at any time prior to the weird situation you found yourself in with Donghyuck– who’s, just by the way, still present in the room, but more quiet that usual, which you shamefully notice and worry about on your insides, but don’t mention out loud– you’d think that you wouldn’t have sex with anyone in this room. It may be hard to believe– even though the men in this room aren’t the sexsymbols they often think they are– but that's the sheer reality.

But now? You feel like the truth is written all over your face, you feel like everyone can see right inside of your head and read the words straight out of your brain. It’s embarrassing. You feel ashamed.

Looking around the space, shiteating grins meeting all of their expressions, you shrug and finally get some words out, hoping they satisfy their needs for an answer. 

“No one,” you say, praying you sound confident. 

“Yeah, no-”

“Oh, come on-” 

“That’s a lie-”

Multiple voices cut into your confession, all in disbelief. If this isn’t the proof of their impressively big egos, you don’t know what is. All of them now staring at you with furrowed eyebrows, not believing a single word that’s just came out of your mouth, you start to wonder about how to convince them that you are, indeed, telling the truth, even though you’re obviously aren’t, so you don’t have to take a shot of whatever liquid the host of the party has hidden in the closet of his basement as a punishment.

“I’m serious! I’ve never looked at any of you and thought, ‘yea, I’d let him get it’,” you shrug, taking a nervous sip of the beer in your hold again.  

“Okay, but if you had to? Like, imagine someone is holding your mother captive and telling you they’re gonna kill her if you don’t have sex with anyone in this room. Who are you choosing?” Jeno squints at you, and you’re starting to believe that the man just wants you to pick him. 

“I’d have sex with Aeri,” you muse, pointing a finger to her as she’s leeching to your right shoulder, snickering.

“That’s a cop out!”

“Look, man, I don’t find anyone here hot, okay?” you shake your head at the commotion, grinning to yourself to seem more believable. And with how they roll their eyes and sigh to themselves, you think it’s working. There’s a premature feeling of relief in your insides, thinking that you’ve done it, you haven’t exposed yourself, before you hear your roommate mumble from her slumber, making your heart drop deep down into your own fucking asshole.

“Not even Hyuck?” 

Slowly spinning your head towards her, the tight smile on your face suggesting that you’re going to kill her in under approximately five seconds if she doesn’t take back what she said, you’re painfully aware of the fact that everyone’s staring at you now, grinning to themselves with a look that says they believe that Aeri knows something they don’t– she’s your best friend, after all– and you realize that you’re going to have a hard time getting out of this one. 

You should’ve expected this the moment you saw her drink that much. Maybe you should’ve stayed home today. The information about Lee Donghyuck was still too fresh in her brain to not mention when she has some to drink– you understand, in a way. At least, you’re trying to understand.

“Fuck no,” you grunt out, furrowing your eyebrows in the best acting performance you’ve managed to put on since your theatre kid days. You don’t think you’re convincing anyone, though. You’re not even convinced.

“Was that my name I heard?” 

And again, your heart drops at the familiar tone coming from the place straight opposite of you, the place that’s very obviously in your point of view, yet you’ve been successfully avoiding the whole evening to not seem as obvious to everyone that the very man has been occupying your every thought for the last week or two. You realize this is the first time he’s spoken to you this evening, if you’re not counting the text messages you exchanged before you got here, and something about the fact makes you shiver.

Meeting his eyes, because it’s the natural thing to do when someone speaks to you, you mentally curse and feel your heartbeat quickening at the grin sitting on his face. Eyes roaming his body– all against your will–  you notice the comfortable way he’s sitting on the armchair in front of you, legs parted wide and his thighs on full display, hair a little messy and eyes glossed over and blown out, since he smoked just a few minutes prior to the game, making you realize just how painfully he resembles someone who just had a long make-out session; the thought automatically leading you to think of the fact that you’d like to have a make-out session with him right now, and wow, his thighs do look inviting to sit down on.

“You wish,” you spit instead, still wanting to save the situation. Averting your gaze from him to keep yourself sane, you choose to focus on the floor instead, heat rising to the tips of your ears. 

“I mean, it seems more like you do,” he grins, the whole group snickering at the sudden quarrel in between the two of you. Your conversation suddenly reminds you of the ones you had with him before the two of you started properly talking, and something about the confident smirk on his face makes you remember just how annoying you’ve always found him whenever you encountered him at this very place. You’re back to square one for a minute, with your defensive remarks, similar to the way you used to quarrel with him before, and the familiarity engulfs you like a warm blanket.

“Your confidence amuses me,” you bite back, choosing to look at him as you say it to add more impact to your words; your decision seems to only worsen the things for you, though. The conversation admittedly sounds a little too much like flirting, and the way you notice him clutching the can of beer in his hand only makes you more flushed under his gaze.

“You don’t seem amused.”

“That’s because the idea of having sex with you makes me want to leave this room,” you grunt, shifting uncomfortably in your seat.

“I’ll take you home if you’d like,” he winks at you. Alarm sound goes off in your mind, your hands clammy as you run them through your hair, and suddenly, you’re on fight or flight. And if you can’t escape the situation, you decide to choose the latter– throwing him the most jabbing remark you can think of at this moment, fighting to keep your dignity.

“On a bike, or something?” you snicker. “As if I’d let a guy without a licence fuck me. You know that’s below my standards, Hyuck.”

An amused gasp is heard in the room when this remark leaves your mouth. The main source of the noise is Liu Yangyang, the host himself, since he likes to laugh at times when it’s the least socially acceptable. 

Now, you know that there are only a few things in which men value their social status; one of them being the amount of girls in their bed, the next one their rank in League of Legends, and lastly, their cars. And while Lee Donghyuck is known to be quite the player when it comes to the first thing in the list of social ranking between guys (or at least you’ve heard so from the girls in the locker room in the past years. Not like you were listening to their conversations whenever his name was mentioned… you just have very good hearing) and he was known to be the one that carries the team whenever any game on Yangyang’s PS5 is played in the dimly-lit basement on nights much like this one, there was something always setting him back in the neat ranking, and that something was the state of his car. 

Why? You guessed it– he doesn’t have a car. Or a licence.

To be quite frank, by the expression on Donghyuck’s face– all wide eyes and mouth agape in shock– you hit him right when it hurts, the grin falling off his face when he takes a sip of the beer in his hand, seemingly to chase down the taste of being put in his place and to have something to do to not seem as awkward and embarrassed as he must be feeling right now. 

You feel victorious, in a way– you managed to mask your very obvious sexual frustration caused by the man, while also managing to rile him up with your comment, which is definitely a first in your dynamic– adrenaline rushing through your blood as you look at him with expecting eyes, awaiting his response. The rest of the crowd laughs at your remark, only fueling the joy you feel when he suddenly averts his gaze from you, licking his lips for only a millisecond (yet it doesn’t get unnoticed by your eyes) before he snickers again, shrugging.

“Okay then,” he grunts, pressing the tip of his tongue to the inside of his cheek in annoyance, “you won.”

You know what? Once he admits to it, the feeling of victory quickly fades. Watching his frustrated face, eyebrows furrowed as he looks everywhere but at your face, suddenly, you choose to drown yourself in the rest of the beer in your bottle, relieved when you notice the game progressing without you. 

You won, he says, but you don't feel like you did. Quite the opposite, actually. You feel a tad bit defeated. 

You managed to lie to the crowd, but the very obvious pit in your stomach reminds you that you can’t lie to yourself– and now, bear with me as I say something cheesy, yet true– because even though Lee Donghyuck can’t drive, he’s still very successful at driving you crazy.

You feel like the universe is punishing you for every little, smallest thing you’ve ever done wrong in your life. You feel like whatever force is there that’s making this world go around, absolutely, completely, wholeheartedly hates, despises you, and won’t have mercy on you as you’re left dealing with the text message shining on your phone screen four days after the party, at 8 in the evening. 

hyuck – drive me to a date hyuck – please ig 

Sighing, one, two, three times, you chew on the bottom of your lip as your eyes scan over the messages, and something about the very few words makes your stomach turn and twist in an emotion you’d describe as a weird mix of disgust and shock as you mentally try to come up with a reply. And it’s hard.

It’s difficult, because you hate it, you hate it, you hate it– the way Lee Donghyuck just managed to score himself a date only four days after your ever so growing sexual frustration has started to see the light of the day, you hate the way he’s asking you to drive him there– as if to show you that he still has it, that you’re wrong, and that even though he has no car and no license to boost in front of other girls, they still want him and you’re about to witness it as you drive him there. 

And you hate it so much you start to think you’re going to chew on your own fist and throw a rock through your own window, but you strive hard not to show it. And is there a better way to seem unaffected in this situation than to comply with him? If you weren’t so jealous about the whole thing, you’d surely just make fun of him and do it, no questions asked– a friendly favor, or something. And so you do it. Like it’s nothing.

you – ok text me when you’re ready 

After a few minutes, you end up sitting in your car, hands on the wheel ready to turn (and run into the nearest car out of pure rage, possibly), waiting for Lee Donghyuck to appear on the passenger’s seat, all dolled up and dumped in cologne, presumably– and that’s exactly what happens when the door swings open and your nose is filled with his usual smell but somehow amplified, and you catch a glimpse of his leather jacket and the shirt tucked into his black jeans. You don’t outright look at him– because you’re still trying really hard not to show all of your inner thoughts on your face– and so you only turn on the engine and hum at him, already making your way out of the parking lot.

“Where are you going, then?” you ask, tone of voice completely unbothered and not too stingy or tight. “And I’m just dropping you off this time, right? Because I won’t sit there and watch you have a date and wait to drop both of you back,” you say, playing with the car radio and trying to find a station that would both satisfy your need to tune out your thoughts with a good song and the need to do something with your fingers to seem occupied.

“Of course not,” he snickers, “wouldn’t do that to poor you. And just go the way I tell you. Now turn left at the end of the street.”

Sighing to yourself at his orders, you do your best at driving your neighbor to his date while trying to ignore just how ridiculous this whole situation is. You should’ve said no back when he first asked you to be his personal driver for the semester– failing Film theory class doesn’t seem like such a bad thing in your eyes now, when you look at the situation in retrospect.

“Can’t believe you have to be dropped off at your own date and you still pull bitches,” you shake your head in disbelief, hoping, praying you seem annoyed because of your duties and not because you’d much rather have him staying in so you could catch a glimpse of him in his window, crouched down in the blue light of his room (yes, he has neon lights in his room. Yes, you teased him about it countless of times before) as he plays League of Legends or stays up on a discord call with his friends, playing Minecraft.

“See? You’re missing out,” he chuckles, shrugging to himself. 

“As if I’d ever go on a date with you,” you huff, moving to turn the volume of the radio higher so you don’t have to make small talk with him anymore, agitated, yet completely ignoring the fact that it was you who brought it up in the first place.

Hyuck moves his slender fingers along the knob of the radio and tunes the volume back down, and you’re eager to repeat your previous steps just to anger him and also so you don’t have to listen to his sneaky, egoistical remarks for any longer, when you hear him tell you the next directions and you realize that you still indeed need to hear Donghyuck’s voice, or else you’re not gonna be able to drop him off at his destination and drive away as fast as humanly possible.

The terrain around you starts to look more stranded. There are more trees than buildings in your sight, lampposts decreasing in amount as you drive further away from the city center, and only when you pass the sign that tells you that you just left the town you speak up again, now truly concerned.

“Where the fuck are you taking your date, man? To the middle of the woods?” you huff. “Is she meeting you there?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he laughs, shaking his head at your furrowed brows. Something about his casual composure makes your nerves tick off and goosebumps appear all over your body, as if you were sensing danger, when you sigh out heavily in frustration and turn to look at him for only a split second, eyes meeting with his. 

“Or are you making me drive to another fucking state, you fucker? I don’t have that much gas right now, you dumb ass–”

“We’re almost there, don’t worry,” he rolls his eyes at you, pointing somewhere into the distance again. “Just turn right there and drive up the hill.”

“Up the fucking hill?” you repeat, concerned.

“I told you to not worry about it,” Hyuck hums, settling deeper into the car seat, letting you battle your own thoughts as you follow his orders and drive up the hill for him, praying no deer decides to jump onto the road and total your car right now. 

“I worry about the girl that agreed to go on a date with you, Donghyuck,” you mutter, “I’ll tell you that, she clearly doesn’t have everything alright in the brain, because this is ridiculous.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he swats your worries away with a swing of his arm, pointing towards a place that extends out of the main road– if you can even call it that, since no cars are passing through the hill ever, much more in these hours of the day– and tells you that you can park the car there. 

And you do as you’re told, despite your never-ending complaining– that’s the dynamic you have with Lee Donghyuck, it seems. 

Stopping the car out of the main road, your car shielded from one side by a row of trees, you step on the break and look at the man to your right in question, the engine still running. “Is this it? Is this the place?”

“Yeah,” he nods, a grin slowly starting to play with his features. Something isn’t right– you feel it in your bones and see it in his eyes, but you can’t quite put your finger on it, still utterly confused and in the dark about everything. “Come on, get out of the car.”

He wastes no time in unbuckling his seatbelt and hopping out of the vehicle, his figure circling the car as he leans on the hood, turned away from you and seemingly waiting for you to follow his actions. Confused, figuring that you can’t do much more about the situation right now– where the fuck is his date? Why are we on the top of a hill? Will his date show up? – all swimming around your brain, you hop out and find his warm being, standing one step ahead of him and staring at him with stern, frustrated eyes.

“Look, isn’t it pretty?” he asks, pointing somewhere behind you. It takes everything in you to turn and gaze at the sight in front of you, your heart still weak and angrily beating against your ribcage, but you do as you’re ordered, eyes bearing into the view. 

The whole town is stretching out right below you. Now that you’ve turned the engine off and your headlights have gone out, you see the lights even better, shielded by a blanket of stars glimmering above the horizon, and you can’t help but gasp out in the beauty of it all. This place makes you want to take a picture, so you can remember how you felt while standing here and admiring the city forever– so you can remember how you felt while standing next to Donghyuck, heart foolishly drumming against your ribcage– and you suddenly realize just how badly you despise the fact that he showed this to you just to send you off while he waits for his date, as if to show you everything you could have if you went out with him, even though the question was never even on the table in the first place.

Clearing your throat, you turn to him, eyes glazing his side profile. “Where’s your date? Is she turning up? I don’t think it’s safe to make her–”

“My date’s already here,” he hums, nodding to himself. 

This does nothing to clear out the fog of confusion from in front of your eyes. “Huh? Where?”

“Here,” he repeats. The word has you wearily looking around yourself, furrowed brows and all– and that only makes the man chuckle at your antics, low voice cutting out of his throat making its way straight to the bottom of your stomach. “There’s no one else here. Just us. And no one else is coming, so will you chill out and enjoy our date, finally?” he asks, locking his gaze with you in a lazy, yet attractive manner that has your hands shaking and your brain instantly panicking.

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you process his words for a few seconds, doing mental acrobatics and racking your brain in thought. Nothing helps. “Our date?”

“Mhm.”

“Yeah, no,” you giggle out in awkwardness, feeling unarmed and like somebody’s just dunk a bucket of hot water over you. Shaking your head, you try hard to mask the way you’re feeling on the inside right now, because what are you even feeling right now? As you do some unreadable gestures with your arms as a way of declining and canceling everything that’s happening right now. “Us? A date? Yeah, not happening–” 

You mumble out, ready to escape the situation as fastly and as efficiently as you can while you try to make your way back inside of the car, not really thinking of the journey home you’re about to have to make with him on the passenger’s seat, when a hand grips your wrist, making you stop in your tracks. You take a few steps away from him nonetheless, and the man soon follows you before your body is swiftly turned against your car, the small of your back coming in contact with the driver’s door. Your breathing is quick when the man hovers above you, and you don’t feel danger– you just feel a bit panicked at the way tonight’s playing out. A date? You wouldn’t have thought of this in your most insane dreams.

“Why are you trying to run away?” he asks, his hand still holding your wrist, his fingers firm, yet gentle on your skin.

“Because– um– because-” you stutter, eyes instantly meeting his– regret pooling in the bottom of your stomach when you realize the proximity of his gaze, something tense bundling up in your insides, “this is ridiculous, Donghyuck, you can’t just–”

“I can’t just?” he tempts you, eyebrows rising to make you continue.

“You can’t just lure me into a date with you, that’s not how this works–”

“Would you go if I asked, then?”

“No, of course not!” you shake your head at him, tone of voice a few octaves higher than usual. Your eyes scan over your companion, his face reflecting the moonlight, and you find yourself counting the moles on his cheeks and noticing his sped-up breathing, automatically matching it despite not realizing it yourself. 

“Why? ‘Cause I don’t have a driving license, or because you’re just scared to admit that you’re attracted to me?” he challenges you, quirking up his brows at you in tension. 

Something about it makes you lose all the air in your lungs. He’s so close now you swear the scent of his cologne has made you drugged up, since you can’t seem to take your eyes off his lips for the next few seconds, completely in trance and electrified, and before you know it, you’re a blubbering mess, too lost in everything that is him to come up with something coherent. “That’s- that’s just not-”

He laughs at you, he snickers, as those words escape your mouth, not even a full sentence. You bet it’s enough of a confirmation for him that you’ve officially lost all control– you can’t seem to get out a teasing remark like you usually can, no smart words calculated and thrown his way to scatter down his ego, and you think he realizes that he won. You’re defenseless, you’re weak, and you really want to make out with him right now.

Which he might have sensed out of the way you’ve been yearningly staring at his lips the whole exchange. Still, he mumbles out a small “Stop me now if you don’t want this,” just to be completely sure.

And you don’t. You don't stop him when he leans in and captures your lips with his. You’d be a fool to.

His lips crash against yours with a fever-like pace, the tension that’s been building up between the two of you making itself known in the hurried motions of your lips. His kiss is deep, hands cradling your cheeks as he angles you to lock your lips with his better, not a hint of shyness or hesitance in his motions. Your fingers shakily grasp at the front of his shirt, trying to steady yourself when each motion of his mouth against yours leaves your knees weaker and weaker, your body pressed harder against the car door.

He tastes of mint, making you suspect he planned this and chewed on a gum before meeting you, and when his teeth gently pulls at your bottom lip, eliciting a gasp from you, his tongue is left exploring the inside of your mouth, making you grow hotter and hotter under his ministrations. Your hands occupy themselves as they finally let go off his shirt and sneak around his small waist, pulling him closer, and you swear that you’ve never experienced a kiss that would leave you so eager for more before, a kiss that would leave you so weak and open for anything that’s about to happen– as if you were already naked and bare, a puddle in his palms. 

You’re soon left out of breath, gasping for air when he pulls away from you, and his kisses turn into pecks left on your lips, open mouthed kisses slowly trailing to the corner of your mouth and down your jaw, lips hungrily attaching to your neck, his nose glazing the soft skin as if to smell your scent and ingrave it into his memory. Something inside of you unties and makes you lose all of your control, finally falling fully into the sensation of the novelty of making out with Lee Donghyuck against your car, and you find your hands tying themselves into his hair, tugging at the roots when he finds the soft spot on the crevice of your shoulder that makes you squirm, and you suddenly know what all the girls in the locker rooms were talking about. Each action of his has you gasping for air, eyes pressing shut in the blissfulness of it all– the bites he leaves on your neck, smoothing them down with kitten licks each time surely leaving bruises, making your insides light up with the acts of possession.

“Hyuck–” you gasp, his mouth sucking into another spot on your neck, your head instantly moving away from his way to give him more space to work his magic.

“Hm?” he hums, a satisfied sound cutting out of his throat as his actions get more slow, more lazy, but still just as electrifying. You don’t really know what you wanted to say– perhaps you had no point of calling his name just to say it, and the hazy look in your face is enough of a proof to him when he unattaches himself off your neck and locks his eyes with you, a grin settling onto his face. “Feels good?” 

Nodding eagerly, almost a bit fast and a bit too soon to your own liking (but you’ll worry about that later), you watch him lean towards you again, lips locking with yours in need. Your fingers trail up and down his clothed back, his fingers mirroring the same, but up your loose shirt (which reminds you that you didn’t even dress prettily for the occasion– since you didn’t know this was your date you're attending), cold hands against your heated skin. Shivering from the fresh breeze of the night, you feel him grin against your lips before detaching himself from them to speak against your mouth. “Let’s move this somewhere warmer,” he murmurs before he tugs you away from the car and opens up the back door, pushing you inside.

Swiftly getting inside and closing the door behind himself, Donghyuck appears hovering above you, caging you against the uncomfortable seat. Still, you don’t have time to feel any sense of discomfort as his fingers move your hair from the way and his lips are back on yours again, leaving you no time to think of the implications of the whole situation. 

“See? Isn’t this much better than arguing with each other all the time?” Hyuck snickers again in a moment of weakness when he pulls back from your face to admire your swollen lips, and the teasing has you pushing him towards the seats, a dissatisfied look on your face. 

“Shut up,” you whisper almost hurriedly, climbing onto his lap (not before you admire his sprawled-up legs and the sight of his thighs, though).

“Make me,” he challenges.

“Gladly,” you nod, attaching yourself to his plump lips again, since you can’t seem to get enough of the sensation of them against your weak self, every sweep of his tongue with yours making you feel more heated and impatient as you move against him in his lap, the motion earning you a dissatisfied grunt sent against your mouth as his palms grip your hips with unsaid urgency.

“Don’t start something you wouldn’t want to finish,” he breathes out.

Nodding, you hum. “Who said anything about stopping?” you muse out, grinding against him harder.

You’ll worry about the consequences later.

“Why am I the only one in the shot?” you squint your eyes at the male, watching him as he points his camera to you and tells you to smile and act natural. Donghyuck has on his varsity jacket and his hair is sitting messy, a bit curled on the top of his head, his legs are covered with loose gray sweatpants instead of his usual black jeans– he looks casual, and yet, he looks amazing, you foolishly think as you sigh to yourself and walk across the field, much like the male mentioned a few weeks ago when the two of you ate fried chicken with his free coupons, trying to capture the energy of what youth feels like to you.

“Because you are the main star, honey,” he grins at you, the nickname making you trip over a little on your own feet, before you turn back to him and send him a glare.

“I told you not to call me that,” you mutter, but feel the heat from your stomach slowly rising to the tips of your ears and the tops of your cheeks, your composure slowly crumbling under his gaze. Not only are you watched by his deep brown orbs, there’s also a camera pointed at you now, and if he doesn’t stop with the weird flirting he has going on– especially after what happened between the two of you last week– you don’t know how you’re supposed to contain yourself and act so you don’t look like an utter fool in front of everyone, when the clips will be played in class next week.

“Besides, the project is due next week and this is all we’re doing? Are you sure we’re going to be able to pull this off?” you ask, wary of his confidence. You’re not really sure if Donghyuck knows what he’s doing with this assignment. Why did you even trust him with it in the first place?

“I told you to leave it to me,” he says, “now be a good girl and run down the field, maybe twirl a little like a ballerina, I dunno… Hum a little tune to yourself, do anything remotely interesting and youthful, okay?” he instructs you, and you comply, ignoring the fact that he told you to be a good girl, because after what the two of you did last week, you’re not able to register those two words in a way that would not be mildly sexual in your brain.

You two haven’t spoken about the fact that you hooked up in the backseat of your car after your weird date last week. Truth be told, you two haven’t spoken about anything since it happened, because you felt too awkward and hesitant to bring any conversation topic up. The first time you two spoke was when Donghyuck texted you yesterday about the project, and you told yourself that you simply can't ignore him when it comes to these things, and so you agreed to meet up with him, hoping he won't bring up the events of last week. You were scared. What were you scared of, exactly? You have no idea.

Something in you was almost a bit shameful to admit to yourself that you managed to fall for Lee Donghyuck this quickly. Something in you was a bit embarrassed at the fact that you let yourself be so intimate and so close with the male, and although you don’t regret it, you don’t think you want to talk about it with him (or anyone, for that matter) just yet. Or ever, actually.

And although you could be rational and tell yourself that surely, Donghyuck wanted you in just the same way you wanted him, and there was nothing embarrassing about it, you didn’t feel comfortable with talking about the act with him, because deep down, you know it wasn’t just about the sex for you and you were afraid that it was for him, and you’d rather stay in the blissful unknowingness than to know he only wanted to have sex with you and not try to go somewhere further with your relationship. Did this inner monologue reek of disgusting insecurity? 

Yes. Yes, it did. But somehow, you’re not able to do anything about it.

And so you run down the field like Donghyuck told you to, and you twirl and twist and shout and dance around, trying your hardest to act silly and youthful and exactly like he would like you to, because you’d hate to be unnatural around him, and you pray it’s enough for both the project and him included. Turning back to gaze at him from the distance, you notice that he’s not even recording anymore, only watching you with a lazy grin on his face, eyes glimmering under the direct sunlight, and you wonder how you haven’t realized just how beautiful he is when he’s simply just existing all those months ago, and how foolish you feel with the thought and both without it now. Walking up to him, you muse. 

“Are we done here?” 

“I think we got all the shots we need,” he hums, nodding to your question. There is something reassuring in his smile, and if you were confident enough to grasp at the straws, you would try to talk to him about the events of last week. You lack in many ways, though, and you were never so self-assured as you try to portray yourself to be, and so you don’t. 

“Let’s go, then,” you say, shuddering from the cold November wind as you walk away from the man, expecting him to follow you. You drove here, since the place is a few miles away from the city, and the fact that this marks the end of your project didn’t really make you as relieved and happy as you thought you’d feel back when you agreed to be his driver for the semester. 

A soft fabric envelopes your shoulders, his varsity jacket hugging you into warmth. You smell his cologne when you shyly push your limbs through the sleeves– a self-indulgent desire, too strong to be fought away– and when you look at him to thank him, he wears a soft look in his eyes that glazes you with such tenderness you feel like combusting from the inside with the strengths of your own emotions. Your heart beats fast in your chest when he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear as you walk towards the car, and when a stronger wind hits your heated face, you think that maybe Donghyuck was right, after all. 

You do think this perfectly captures what youth feels like.

“So we won’t talk about it?” he asks, and you turn away from him in fear of your emotions being clearly written on your face. He doesn’t have to name it– you know what he means.

“No,” you shake your head, determined, yet a little scared of his response, “not now.” Not yet, you think. You want to enjoy today a little longer.

“Why?” he asks.

Taking a shaky breath in, sensing that you won’t get to avoid the confrontation like you wanted to, you shrug. “I don’t know if I’m ready to hear it yet,” you bitterly laugh, meeting his eyes with something close to fear in your eyes.

“Hear what?”

“That you… you didn’t really mean anything by it, y’know,” you mumble, “I mean, you probably just did it to stroke your ego, or something, after everything I said at the party, so… yeah, I just don’t know if I wanna hear it.”

There’s a heartbeat of silence after your explanation, and Donghyuck only stares you down with a blank expression. It's not often that you don’t get to clearly see and experience all his emotions flashing through his face, letting you know what he feels even before he gets to speak it out loud. Now is one of the situations, though, and it scares you– it makes you so deeply afraid you’d rather back away from this conversation– damn you for entertaining it in the first place, and so you pretend it never happened in the first place.

“You think I did it to stroke my ego?” he clarifies.

“I- I mean…” you stutter, shying away from his gaze.

“Okay, then,” he mumbles, jaw hardening, his eyes not meeting yours when he circles the car and gets to his designated place on the passenger's seat, “that’s fine, I guess. I’ll try to show you my intentions clearer next time.”

Sitting in class, head resting in your hands as you stare right in front of you, mentally counting down the seconds until the last class of the semester starts, you are only vaguely aware of the things happening around you. You register Aeri talking to you about the new episode of her favorite drama somewhere to your right and you are also aware of Haknyeon and Shotaro sitting in the row in front of you, laughing loudly to themselves about the way their weekend went– yours went terribly, just for everyone’s information, since you decided to drown your feelings in alcohol alone in your apartment, having to be led to bed by your roommate after she got home in the middle of the night from one of her dates with Eric. You don’t really realize it when the class starts, because the monotone voice of your professor doesn’t do much to wake you up, but you are painfully aware of Lee Donghyuck’s body slumping next to yours into one of the only vacant chairs approximately 10 minutes after the class starts, out of breath and slouched over.

Aware of his presence, yet still acting like a scared deer around him, you don’t make any effort into turning to him and greeting him upon his arrival. Still, you sense the smell of his cologne filling your nostrils and making you just a bit more tired and sleepy, your eyes closing on themselves before you’re woken up by the sound of your name coming out of the professor’s mouth.

Scared you’re getting scolded for sleeping in class, you straighten your back and put on your best polite expression, but then you realize your name wasn’t called, just mentioned, and the name of none other than your neighbor was following, when the projector on the wall in front of you lights up and a file named Final projects is opened on the professor’s laptop, each .mp4 file named with a pair of surnames, and two clicks after, your final project is the first one of many presented in front of the whole class. You tried to tell Donghyuck that you could help with the final editing, but the male said he had a vision he needed to achieve, and for that, he wanted to be in charge of it alone, and frankly, out of fear of interacting with him more than was absolutely necessary, you left him to do his thing, resulting in this being your first time watching the final video as well.

There’s a few seconds of silence, a point of complete blankness as the clip starts, and a song played on an acoustic guitar starts playing when the word YOUTH, all capitalized, flashes at the screen. 

A clip of you running down the field in your flowy dress starts the video, the camera zooming in on your figure when you twirl and skip around in the tall grass, and then you laugh over the background music, the sound making you gape in surprise. You didn’t know your laugh sounded like that, and with the hazy coloring of the clips and the solemn, youthful atmosphere Donghyuck managed to capture in the video, you find yourself thinking the sound was kind of beautiful. 

Then the clip cuts into another one– and you widen your eyes at the sight, because Donghyuck told you he’s only going to include the clips from the field, and you believed him, well, because you never saw him record anything else– as the screen shows you a bunch of moments, all wordless, of you just going on with your life. The very next one is of you arriving to class late, a grumpy expression playing with your features. You didn’t notice Donghyuck filming back then, when he offered you a cup of coffee as you laid back on the desk, and a fit of giggles erupts around the class at your behavior. The next clip shows you laughing at Aeri’s shoulder in Yangyang’s basement– a couple of clips of that night following, capturing you playing beer pong with your other friends, or taking sips of your beer when you sat down on one of the folding chairs in the corner of the basement– each one showcasing you completely natural, unstaged, and raw. You had no idea anyone was watching you, yet alone taking clips of you. Did Donghyuck have his camera with him all those times? Or was he just taking those with his phone, since you never even noticed?

There’s a clip of you showing him the middle finger through the window when he called you late at night one day. Another one of you driving, and frankly, you don’t even know where you were going, but the sound of you giggling breaks through the speakers and you slouch deeper into your seat, shy at hearing the sound. The very next one is of you sipping at your boba through your straw, and that’s when you realize those were taken by his phone– at least some of them– because you attempt to hide from the lens by showing your palm against it. Another clip shows you digging through bags of McDonald’s take out in the driver’s seat of your car, another one lets you remember the time you went to get fried chicken with him, thinking he’s sending the video he took of you to tease his roommate with the free food he got with someone else back then, unaware that he wanted to use it for the project later. 

There are a few clips that only last a second. You walking a few steps ahead of him– you think it was the time you two went to the mall, you angry with his antics. Another one of you picking out cans of soda from the rack in the convenience store. A clip of you driving, once again, but now the sky is starry and dark, and you remember the night too well, since it wasn’t that long ago. A clip of you glaring at your bangs in the rear view mirror, another one of you staring into your textbooks at the library. 

There’s only one clip that shows Donghyuck as well. It’s one taken without you knowing, much like the previous ones, and how you missed the phone plopped up against the corner of your dashboard, you really don’t know, but the video shows you two in the McDonald’s parking lot, your hand touching his on the gear stick as you show him how to drive. Only then do you notice the flustered look on his face and the nervous laugh he gets out in the clip, the sound making your heart jump in your ribcage. 

The last part of the video is of you walking a few steps ahead of him, his varsity jacket hugging you around your shoulders. It’s the latest clip of them all, and it makes you painfully shy to look at it. The video comes to finish with a few last strums of an acoustic guitar in the background, and you come back to your senses when you feel a hand squeeze your thigh under the table, the whole class erupting into claps. The video was beautiful, and you feel moved.

Although you should be more mad about the fact that Donghyuck took videos of you without you knowing, there is something incredibly moving about the fact that somebody was looking at you and felt the need to capture the moment before it went away. The clips were candid, real, raw, showcasing exactly how the memory went, how your laugh sounded, and how you looked through Donghyuck’s eyes. The video was exactly what it needed to be and more. 

There’s something about the fact that all of the clips were of you that made you feel weak in your knees. If the video was what youth feels like, does this mean you were his youth?

If you felt beautiful in the video, loved the way your eyes crinkled in joy, liked the way your expressions morphed into the purest form of whatever emotion you felt at the moment, did that mean this was the way Donghyuck saw you with his eyes?

“See?” you hear him whisper into your ear, his hand still resting at the top of your leg. “I told you I had a vision. I did a good job, didn’t I?”

You chuckle, then offer him a nod. “I didn’t know you were recording all of those,” you whisper, ignoring the words coming out of your professor’s mouth– surely evaluating your work right now. You don’t really want to hear it, though– you’re sure you’ll pass. After seeing what your neighbor’s capable of, you have no doubts.

“I wanted it to feel authentic,” he peeps, “to the way I see you, I mean.”

“Is this what you meant when you said you’d prove your point later?” you wonder.

“I mean, the fact that I’ve always had the biggest crush on you was supposed to come across when I liked your objectively terrible haircut you got at the beginning of the term, but yes,” he admits, sheepishly smiling.

“Okay, uncalled for,” you shrug off his hand from your thigh, to which he giggles and captures your limb with his again, interlacing your fingers. He sways your hands back and forth, offering you a soft look that drives you slightly insane. After all of this, you’re really not sure what you were so afraid of.

“How does that roadtrip sound right now?” 

“Still absolutely terrifying,” you note. 

“Even if I pay for gas?” he laughs.

Squinting at him, admiring the boyish grin playing with his lips, you sigh. “I’ll think about it.”

[milesmolasses]

they’re just people (42miles x african!reader)

— this was a request that I very stupidly deleted

— idek how I fricken did it bruh just read the fic 😭

— miles is nervy cause he’s meeting ur family.

— ⚠️: unedited, reader and miles are aged up to be 17-18 (because it makes sense. what african parent do you know who is letting their child date at 15??), miles having a cute moment with his mom <3

— “senator style” dressing is very common among men in nigeria. look it up and you’ll see what i’m talking about

“you need to calm down.”

you could feel the anxiety radiating off of your boyfriend from a mile away as he was pacing up and down your room, while throwing around a bean bag he found in your drawer. he had quietly snuck in through a window while you were getting ready just to rant to you about how nervous he was.

a birthday party.

your mother had told you to bring him to a birthday party being held for your cousins at a venue. she thought it would be a nice idea to see how he would interact with the rest of your family (and to see if he was any good with children.) in miles' head, he was hoping for a small get-together like you had when you met his mom and uncle.

as he came over to you and and wrapped his arms around your waist he said, “mami, tell me to calm down one more time and I might explode.”

“eww don’t do that I don’t wanna have to clean up your guts,” you joked as you turned to kiss his cheek.

turning around in his arms, you pushed him away from you slightly to examine what was in front of you. miles was freshly dressed in a matching blue “senator style” shirt and pants. you reached for his newly braided braids as you brought them forward to lay on his shoulders. “you look extremely handsome. they’re going to like you, okay?”

he huffed as he rolled his shoulder back, a little tense from all the worrying he’s been doing. “okay.”

when miles snuck out your window and went back to his own home, his mother caught a glimpse of what he was wearing.

“wow, te ves bien. where are you going?” his mother asked sounding impressed by how her son had cleaned up so nicely.

“i’m meeting the parents…” he mumbled looking at the floor. she could tell his nerves were getting the best of him by how his eyes were darting around the room and not maintaining eye contact.

“oh wow, that’s why you’re dressed like this huh?”

“yup”

Rio sighed as she went up to her son, placing both her hands to rest upon his shoulders.

“miles, you listen to me. they are just people. they can’t hurt you, okay? and judging by the person they raised, they’re good people,” she reassured him the best she could as she slid her hands down his arms, rubbing small circles to sooth him.

“what if they don’t like me?”

Rio sighed as her eyes darted to the side, thinking of what to say. she suddenly stepped away from miles as she put her index and thumb on her chin. she began to circle around miles, examining everything about him.

miles could only stand there confused as to why his mom was inspecting every inch of his body. “uh.. ma?” she put a finger to her lips to shush him, still looking and studying him while deep in thought. until she finally came to a stop right in front of him.

“mmk now, ask me what I see when i look at you.”

“ma w-what are you-”

“shhh play along! now ask me what I see, ¡vamos!”

miles threw his arms up and let them fall down in defeat. “fine, what d’ you see mami?”

Rio smiled as she grabbed her sons hands into her own.

“I see the boy I raised,” she explained. “I see him in all his glory on his way to navigate the world he’s been given.”

"I see him trying his best understand what it means to have feelings — what it means to love someone. I see someone who cares enough to immerse himself in a different culture than the one he has all for the sake of a special someone."

she looked down as she continued, “I see a talented, intelligent, kind, respectful little boy who’s not so little anymore. I see someone I couldn't be more proud of, and y’know what—?” she lifted her head so her eyes could meet his, “if they can’t see what I see, están locos.”

miles couldn’t help the soft smile he had on his face as he looked into her sincere eyes. pulling his mom into him, he hugged her and gave her a small kiss on her head.

“te quiero, mami”

“ay mami please I gotta go-!”

“in a minute!”

you stood outside smiling with your hands crossed over your chest watching the scene in front of you; miles mother trying to make him look more presentable by straightening out his shirt and tucking away any miss placed hairs on his head as best as she could.

when she finally kissed her son goodbye and started her way back to the bus stop, she quickly waved and smiled at you before speed-walking to catch the next bus. there were people from your family all outside the venue, chatting each other up and taking pictures, and suddenly this all felt very real to miles.

taking a deep breath, he crossed the street and made his way over to you.

“hi baby,” you swiftly linked your arm around his and gave him a small kiss on the cheek.

“damn, how many people you got in your family ma?” he took a quick look inside through the windows and saw a hefty amount of people, which didn’t make this any easier for him.

“don’t worry, most of these people aren’t actually family. they’re more like family friends who we call aunties, uncles, and cousins,” you explained.

“okay okay, yeah sure,” miles let out a breath that he didn’t even know he was holding in. he started to look around at all the people outside the venue: they all looked so extravagant in long fitted dresses, and in suits that matched or looked similar to what he was wearing. all of the adults mingled with each other, and children were beginning to group off and mess around.

miles felt a bit like a fraud; like he didn’t belong there. this was all new territory for him. of course he had a few african friends in middle school, but he never really had to face their culture head-on like he was now. when he tried listening to what people were saying, he heard a few english words incorporated into their sentences, but he hadn't a clue on what was being communicated.

he couldn't stop the doubts that began to cloud his mind as he looked around him. doubts that he wasn't the kind of guy your parents wanted you dating, that he couldn't live up to their expectations. doubts that told him in big bold letters, "you don't belong here."

miles' facial expressions and body language often gave away what he was thinking, so when you noticed him begin to shrink slightly, him rapidly tapping his thigh, and his lip twitching slightly, you saw right through him. grabbing his hand, you gave him a small squeeze of affection, and soon enough, you were leading him through the doors of the venue, dodging people and children as you made your way through.

you led him right to your table which your parents saved for you and your siblings, plus miles.

as he saw your parents seated at the table, the first person he noticed was your father's presence. he took notice of the stoic look on his face, and his hand on the table which was intertwined with your mother's.

"hey guysss," you greeted with a smile as you dragged miles over to the table. "this is milesss, the boy I was telling you about."

you could feel miles tense ever so slightly as his father held his gaze.

"good evening sir, my name is miles," he introduced himself with a small smile.

“thank god this boy even knows how to greet,” your father said while nodding in approval.

when he reached his hand out for miles to shake, miles thought to himself, “okay, making progress.”

taking his hand, he gave a firm handshake to your father to which he nodded in approval again. turning to your mother, he extended his hand and said hello and was met with a softer touch and welcoming smile.

“I like your hair,” she mentioned, her hand gesturing to the two braids rested on his shoulder.

miles smiled as he look down to his braids. “thank you, my mom actually does these for me.”

“tell her i said she did well,” she complimented.

“please, sit down i’m sure the food will soon be ready, and then we will see what we can take home with us,” your mother mumbled that last part directed to your father, but you still heard and laughed.

“so, miles, we have been told many good things about you. you want to study physics?” your father asked.

miles squeezed your hand under the table, eyebrows raised in shock. “you guys talk about me?” he felt his heart swell at the mental image of you even mentioning him to your parents — especially your mom.

“of course na, our daughter comes up to us and tells us she’s been seeing a boy — how can we not talk about you?” your mother asked rhetorically. you could see the small almost unnoticeable smirk etching onto miles face. he would never let you hear the end of this.

after almost half an hour of talking, laughing, (mainly between you, miles, and your mother), and getting to know one another, miles started to feel much more relaxed. words started flowing out of him much easier than before, and he even managed to make your dad crack a smile with one of his silly jokes. miles nerves and doubts slowly but surely began to dissipate as the night went on; relief washed over his entire body.

it wasn't until your mother covered him in a layer of fear 4x as heavy as the one he just washed off.

“ah! see your cousin!” you mother told you. you looked in the direction she was looking and saw a toddler running around and giggling.

“why don’t the both of you go and say hi!”

she knew exactly what she was doing.

— bro idk what’s wrong but I really don’t like this (¬_¬)

— but I tried

— idek why but i think the other one was SOOO much better

[queenimmadolla]

𝐒𝐇𝐄'𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ─ 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 '𝟖𝟔

(young parents!eddie munson x reader)

more dad!eddie and pennyverse entries can be found on my masterlist

summary: After taking a pregnancy home test for funsies, you find out that you’re actually pregnant. The scariest part isn’t even the completely unexpected pregnancy, it’s telling Eddie.

warnings: use of an 80s pregnancy test, pregnancy (obvs), mention of periods, not much else.

a/n: based on this request and also based in the pennyverse (see masterlist). i usually always use up my friends’ extra pregnancy tests when they take them, so I’ve developed an irrational fear of this happening to me after writing it out lol. and i still can’t use the keep reading tab bc tumblr eats sections of my fics that i try to use it on so sorry about that and sorry about the formatting, tumblr also refuses to post this if I remove so much as a space. enjoy! let me know what you think (don’t be a dick)! 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

You were sat inside of the tub—void of any water—and had been for the past hour and a half. It was anything but comfortable. You weren’t paying attention to the ache in your back though, too focused on the vial you held between you fingers, rolling it between your middle and thumb finger while you were careful to avoid spilling the liquid it contained.

How you hadn’t thrown it out of your bedroom window yet, you had no clue. After all, it did kind of betray you. Nancy had a scare with Jonathan about two days prior and you’d gone with her to the pharmacy to pick up a couple of tests, held her hand as she panicked about how she couldn’t put off school to raise a baby but the liquid in her vial remained clear, and so did the next one she tried. While she’d been significantly relieved at the negative results, she couldn’t risk her mom finding the tests so you’d taken the remainder of them (she’d purchased six in total, talk about overdoing it) with the intentions of throwing them out. Then your stupid curiosity got the best of you. You blamed it on how interesting the actual test looked. While you had hated chemistry class, messing with actual liquids, chemicals, vials, and bunsen burners during the labs had greatly amused you.

The pregnancy test looked much too similar to a couple of those components, so you couldn’t resist. You’d peed in the tray, mixed it in with the clear liquid you’d poured into the provided vial, waited a couple of minutes for everything to combine and settle in there, then you placed a drop of the solution into the mixture. The result was unfortunately instant. You’d been fully expecting the same result as Nancy while you prepared the test but to your complete and utter surprise, the liquid in your vial turned a dark shade of blue. And so did the next one, and the one after that, and the last one. You were glad you’d chosen to do this at your parents’ house, you hadn’t wanted Eddie to get the wrong idea and your parents’ still had a room for you but you were interested in the ensuite bathroom connected to it—or else Eddie would have stumbled upon you passed out in the trailer.

You’d settled into the bathtub when it felt like your legs were going to give in as reality shifted around you. What the FUCK? You hadn’t even missed your periods! Sure, they never really came on time but that was because they’d always been irregular ever since Aunt Flo’s first visit! They’d been pretty light and brief, but that still had to count for something right? You groaned as you sunk further down in the tub, recalling all the times you and Eddie had neglected to use protection. You’d been on the pill since before you two even got together (that’s a different story, though) and sure, he occasionally wore a condom but that accounted for only about 15% of the times you had sex. The rest of the times, you’d simply put your faith in your little blue pill. How ironic was it that your birth control was the same color as the positive pregnancy result? Maybe you could laugh about it in the future, but for now, you were panicking about what to do next. You’d only been out of school for about five months, having graduated alongside the majority of your friends and your now-husband in June, and you hadn’t enrolled in a college because—well, you had no idea what you wanted to study or even if you wanted to study anything, so you’d chosen a job instead, which meant school wouldn’t be a problem for you. But telling your husband would be. You’d gotten married the same night of graduation, moved in (officially) with him and Wayne about a week later and you’d been in the honeymoon phase since. Wayne had started sleeping over a couple of trailer’s down at Maude Maple’s—you couldn’t blame him, Eddie wasn’t exactly quiet when you fucked—she was conveniently all alone after her son went away for college in the early fall and had taken quite the liking to her faithful neighbor who never failed to come to her rescue when some appliance of her’s ‘broke down’, meaning you and Eddie had the whole trailer to yourself the majority of the time. That’s probably how you ended up in this situation.

You’d have to tell Eddie. You shot up in the tub, gripping the side with your freehand as a wave of nausea turned in your stomach and you were pretty sure it didn’t have anything to do with pregnancy symptoms. What would he do? What would he say? Would he leave you? Did he even want a baby right now? Of course not, he had ambitions and a baby would halt those! Yes, you talked about having kids before, but it was always future plans. This was happening right now.  

You stood up, climbing out of the tub before you capped the vial. You hid it in one of the pockets lining your bag before you quickly got rid of the rest of the evidence, flushing other positive tests and loading your purse with all the trash to discard in a bin somewhere far from your parents’ house and the trailer, where no one could tie it back to you. Wait a minute, you thought as you clutched your bag to your chest. Pregnancy tests give false positives all the time! Maybe I just got a bad batch. Yeah, that’s it! I’ll just go to my doctor, and have this all blown over. You hadn’t experienced any symptoms (that couldn’t be blamed on PMS) and you didn’t feel any different, so could you really be pregnant? —

You were pregnant. 

Not only had your doctor confirmed it, but she’d also informed you that you were about 22 weeks along. Even if you had wanted to get an abortion (which you hadn’t really considered seeing as how you had no idea you were pregnant until that morning), you wouldn’t be able to unless you had a serious medical condition. You’d tried to somehow argue your way out of her diagnosis, or whatever it was, by pointing out that your stomach was still normal, no major change to it as in no abnormally protruding baby bump but she’d informed you that your baby was most likely just nestled in there and, while it was rare, sometimes people didn’t show until late in their pregnancy. Then she’d weighed you and you were indeed a couple of pounds over, compared to what you could remember weighing last. And your periods? She chalked that up to hormone changes after she asked if you’d been experiencing any extreme changes in mood and you’d been able to recall the random bouts of frustration, irritation, sudden sadness, and yeah, that made sense. She’d said it’d most likely stop once you started relaxing. 

If that hadn’t been proof enough for you, the figure on your sonogram was, along with the heartbeat you’d heard during the brief ultrasound. That had to have been the scariest part; you’d been expecting to see a tiny little blob—your fetus at an early stage—but your fetus was far enough developed to resemble a freaking baby and you just couldn’t wrap your head around actually being pregnant, a baby was inside of you at that very moment. Thinking about it made your brain produce no thoughts, just white noise. 

You didn’t go home to Eddie that night, choosing to return back to your parents’ where you faked coming down with something and your mother insisted—like you knew she would—that you stay the night. You took dinner in your room, had your mom tell Eddie you weren’t feeling good and were sleeping it off—not a total lie—when he inevitably called. It was pretty shitty of you but you didn’t know what else to do and hiding out at your childhood home was your only way of avoiding your husband.

You hadn’t been able to sleep. Not with what you now knew. Almost hesitantly, you unbuttoned the shirt of your ridiculous, Winnie the Pooh pajamas and rested your palm just below your belly button, trying to feel any movement from the baby growing there.

While you couldn’t feel anything on the outside, your mind wandered to last week, when you’d been laying on your tummy and felt an odd sensation that you attributed to a silent stomach rumble—though it didn’t feel much like your stomach—, your body just letting you know you were hungry. It had happened a couple more times—all of which you’d been stomach down—and now you were sure it had been the baby inside of you, maybe protesting about being squished. You certainly wouldn’t be sleeping on your stomach anymore, now that you were aware of the new resident in your womb.  

It didn’t even surprise you that you were starting to think of ways to go about making sure your baby was okay in there; while you were scared shitless as most unexpected first time moms-to-be are, there was part of you that wanted to know more about that little human growing inside of you. Would they look more like Eddie or more like you? Would they have his pretty, baby cow eyes or would they have yours? And what about the hair, would it be more like yours or more like his messy curls? Then you warmed, because you had a part of him literally inside of you; you were carrying his baby. While the news of your pregnancy had been daunting to say the least, you were finding that you didn’t completely fear the idea of it. No, what you feared was Eddie’s reaction. 

You were thinking of ways you could somehow avoid him, though you knew you wouldn’t be able to for long. You weren’t showing yet but you would be, probably sooner rather than later. If, for some reason, he didn’t notice—someone else would and word would get back to him.

Frustrated with your predicament, you grabbed one of your throw pillows from next to you and held it over your face to muffle your screams. The sound of knuckles rapping against your window interrupted you and you froze, blood running cold. There was only one person it could be, and it was the very person you didn’t want to actively see at the moment. 

You were positive he could see you, though, and you didn’t want him to think you were trying to smother yourself to death so you reluctantly set the pillow back in it’s place at your side and got up to confront your fears, if not for you then for the little one inside you. Eddie was grinning as you approached your window, pulling it open before stepping back so he could climb in. 

“Hey, Thumper,” he greeted as he righted himself, stretching his arms up after he’d kicked off his shoes and shrugged his jacket off. Once he was standing at full height, he leaned back against the window frame, pretty doe eyes taking you in from head to toe, “How you feelin’? You okay, baby?”

“I’m all right, Bambi,” you lied, willing your body to relax. “My head hurts, that’s all.”

Eddie eyed you skeptically before he closed the distance between you two, hands moving up to cradle your face as he leaned in for a kiss. Like butter, you melted; eyes fluttering shut as your body fully relaxed and your mind went all fuzzy. You’d been married for six months now and you were beginning to realize the effect he had on you would never go away. Unless he did. Your anxiety came rushing right back and you pulled away, breaking the kiss.

“What are you doing here?” You rushed to ask, taking note of the concern written on his face as he stared down at you. “I was worrying myself sick about you. I knew you weren’t feeling good, plus I can’t sleep without you, so if the mountain won’t come to Muhammad. . .” 

“I’m pregnant,” you blurted out, posture stiff and awkward as you stared back up at him with wide eyes. You hadn’t meant to say it, it kind of just came out on its own but now that it was out there, there was no taking it back.

You studied his face, your heartbeat pounding against your chest with the suspense as you watched his eyebrow quirk up, his pink lips parting slightly in surprise.

Eddie swallowed hard once, mouth continuing to open and close like he was a fish instead of a human, “I’m sorry—what?”

He opened the flood gates again, you couldn’t contain the word vomit, you just kept talking, “I’m pregnant. Like, I am really pregnant, man. I only literally just found out and I was thinking maybe the home tests were bad—all four of them—but they were not because I went to the doctor since I couldn’t believe it ‘cause I didn’t know I was pregnant but she said I was and then I saw it for myself and now I am actively aware of the baby inside me like some sort of chest hugger—except it’s in my womb and I’m gonna have to give birth and I am really freaking the fuck out because I don’t know what we’re gonna do since we didn’t exactly talk about having a baby right away and I know you had plans and this is kind of getting in the way of them and that’s what I didn’t want because I want you to do everything you love and I wanna be by your side while you do it and I’m not gonna lie, I actually wouldn’t mind having this baby since it’s me and you but I don’t want you to leave me over this—“ 

You were silenced when Eddie gently placed his palm over your mouth, effectively stopping your verbal onslaught and keeping you from working yourself into a panic attack. 

“Hey, hey—hey, you gotta calm down, honey. You’re upsetting yourself,” his hand slid from over your mouth to the back of your neck, rubbing at the tense muscles there. “Breathe for me, baby.”

You knew he was right, you were practically shaking in your fuzzy socks. You took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm your breathing while Eddie mumbled encouraging words, pressing kisses to your forehead until you’d managed to get somewhat of a hold on yourself. Eddie would hold the rest of you together, like he always did. You wrapped your arms around his middle, snuggling into his chest.

Eddie indulged you, soothing you with cuddles before he pulled back just enough to look at you, while he had managed to calm you down, you could still see the surprise in his dark gaze as he whispered, “You-You’re pregnant?” 

You feared your mouth would run free again, so you remained silent, nodding a couple of times as you nibbled on your lower lip, waiting for Eddie to lose it, to blow a gasket. Seeing you this upset pained Eddie. He could see the fear in your glossy eyes, the quiver in your plump lower lip as you stared up at him, waiting for his response. He tried not to take it personal, knew where your insecurities lied and how much you valued him over yourself. If there was one thing Eddie wished he could change, it’d be the way you saw yourself. He wished you could see yourself through his eyes; you were absolutely perfect to and for him. He couldn’t imagine life without you and he didn’t ever want to, so the notion that he would even consider leaving you was blasphemy. He wouldn’t have done it if you weren’t pregnant. Had this happened in high school or something, he might have freaked out a little but he still wouldn’t have ever considered leaving you. 

Now, it just seemed like the opportune time for this exact scenario. You were already married, so people couldn’t say Baby Munson was a bastard and kids came next after marriage, right? It didn’t matter when you two had them—to him, at least. He knew he’d be a good dad, he wouldn’t be anything like his. Not the bad parts of him. And Eddie knew you’d be an amazing mother, had seen you handle the kid part of your friend group plenty of times.

When he said your name, so tenderly, it made you want to cry, and a tear did slip down your cheek but Eddie was quick to halt it, wiping it away with his thumb, “Listen to me, ‘kay? I’m uh—I’m definitely a little shocked, but there isn’t even a small percentage of me that doesn’t want to have a mini you running around. And my plans? Baby, you are my plans. From the moment I hung out with you in the back of my van at that shitty party, I knew I needed you in my life. Now, you are my life. The only plans I have, are to live happily ever after—and all that gooey, sappy shit I’ll never publicly admit to loving—with you. Everything else that happens is filler stuff, okay? You—and you,” he reached a hand down to rest again the skin of your stomach, rings cool against your flesh, still exposed as your shirt had remained unbuttoned, “—are the only things that matter to me. I love you, and every extension of you—of us.”

You sniffled, nodding your head a couple of times again before he leant down and you met him halfway, lips pressing together in a messy kiss, wet with your tears and Eddie’s. You pulled away once you realized he was crying, too, but he rushed to wipe his tears away, bashful. “Shut up, I have the right to be a little emotional, okay? It’s just been confirmed to me that I’m gonna be a dad, that’s some pretty big, fucking good news.”

You leaned in to kiss a stray tear off his cheek, licking it off your lips as you peered up at him in curiosity, “Confirmed?”

Eddie laughed as you squinted up at him, pressing another kiss to your forehead, “You nearly bit Argyle’s head off when he brought that pizza to movie night last month, baby.” “He forgot the bell peppers after I called him multiple times to remind him!” “And when you were helping Will out with his art project, you kept crying because it made you emotional,” he added, recalling the way you were silently crying as you painted the area of the canvas Will had asked you to touch up. “It was a very moving scene he depicted!” “Not to mention how many times I’ve cum in you. Honestly, the only reason I’m surprised is because I kind of expected this to happen sooner.” 

You winced as his brazen words, normally they got the waterpark down there flowing but you could tell he was trying to get a reaction out of you, “Jesus, Eddie. Your breeding kink is showing.”

He winked, walking you backwards towards the bed, though it didn’t seem like his intentions were sexual, or at least not as sexual as he usually was when he fully intended on ravaging you. Once you fell back onto it, he clambered over you, hands moving either side of your night shirt away. He pressed a kiss to both of your breasts, mumbling a quick ‘my girls!’ before he focused his attention on the lower part of your stomach, suddenly fascinated at the sight of it. 

“So, there’s a baby in there?” He asked, index finger trailing circles over your soft skin, just above your pelvis and the hem of your pajama pants.

“Mhm,” you hummed, then you remembered the sonogram and threw him off of you to run to your purse. Eddie watched you in amusement, lounging on his side, as you dug around in it. Once you’d found both the vial and the sonogram, you returned to the bed, crawling next to him as you handed him both. “What’s this?” He asked, admiring the blue liquid in the sealed vial.

“Chemicals and stuff, I’m pretty sure, and my pee.” He didn’t miss a beat, “That’s really hot.”

“Shut up, it’s my pregnancy test,” suddenly, Eddie was cradling it in his palm like it was the most precious thing in the world, “and this is your kid.” 

You held the sonogram up and Eddie stared at it with wonderment, carefully setting the vial down on your old nightstand before he reached for the sonogram. You let him pluck it from your grasp, watching him in slight awe yourself, as he stared hard at it, easily able to make out the baby’s shape despite the lack of decent lighting. He trailed a finger over it gently, as if he was actually stroking his baby instead of outlining his baby’s form in the sonogram picture. When he looked back at you, his eyes were shining with the promise of more tears as he whispered, “This is our baby?” You nodded as your own eyes began to gloss over, choked up at how much Eddie seemed to love the little one growing inside of you already, “That’s our baby.”

“Holy shit,” He mumbled, gaze focused on the sonogram again before he seemed to come to some sort of realization and his head snapped back to you. “H-How far along are you?”

You pinched your bottom lip between your fingers, nervously as you answered, “Uhm, she said I’m about 22 weeks along now.”

You really loved Eddie’s eyes, so big, brown and pretty, but as big as they were, they could definitely get bigger. Like they were right then as he silently mouthed the latter half of your sentence before he found his voice again, “22 weeks? That’s—That’s five months!” You nodded in agreement, watching as he went through the same sort of emotions you had when the doctor had told you. “That only gives us like what—four months to prepare? Fuck, I have to baby proof so many things, and I have to build a crib, we’ve got to get carseats, what else do we need to raise a baby?”

“We can figure it out in the morning, I am ready to collapse,” you laughed as you took the sonogram from his hand and placed it on the nightstand near your pregnancy test before you pushed him back into the pillows, and unbuttoned his jeans. Eddie lifted his hips to allow you to tug them off and discard them at the end if your bed, then you curled into your place at his side, face nuzzling into the crook of his neck as you inhaled his scent; woodsy (curtesy of the cheap cologne he used), with the slight scent of marijuana but you were even more pleased when you didn’t smell any traces of cigarettes, he’d given them up two months ago. You cuddled for a few minutes, but the exhaustion of the day was finally catching up to you. Eddie’s hand stroked over your back, lulling you further to sleep. Before you could fully slip under though, he asked, “Did you happen to find out the sex?” “Mhm,” You mumbled, sleepily as you pressed a lazy kiss to his collar bone.

“You gonna share with the class?” You could hear the amusement in his voice and you smiled against his skin at the mere thought of the pretty grin he no doubt had on his face. Eddie loved to talk to you when you were on the cusps of sleep for some reason. Thought it was endearing. “‘M not in school,” you slurred, eyes fluttering shut completely. “How are you such a smartass even when you’re half asleep?” He chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You chuckled along with him, snuggling further into him. He thought you’d finally fallen asleep after you didn’t answer him, but he was rewarded five minutes later when you mumbled out, “’S a girl.”

A girl. He was gonna be a dad to a little girl. Eddie closed his eyes and he could practically envision her, a little miniature version of you; with your cute nose and your pretty features. Would she have your eyes or his? Would her hair be as unruly as his or more like yours? Maybe if he put a headset over your tummy and played some cool tunes, she’d come out with an appreciation for Metallica. He’d thought four months was pretty soon, earlier, but now it seemed like a century away, he was already eager to meet her. Soon, he mused, a hand moving to rest over your stomach.

Soon.

[gaysindistress]

Prompt 2 🌶️ for a Bucky please? 🥺

Tell me why I instantly thought about this scene:

warnings - smut. cursing.

I almost gave you a full ass fic but I had to stop myself to finish Van Helsing Retold.

600 celebration post here

I know better than this. 

I know better than to provoke him when he’s already in a bad mood thanks to Tony. 

I know better than to tease him when he’s on a mission especially since he’s cranky and on said mission with Tony. 

I most certainly know better than locking the front door and putting my phone on do not disturb after sending him nudes but I can’t help myself and he brought it on himself to be completely fair. 

Tony decided that 3am two nights ago was the perfect time to call him and tell him that he needed to be back at the tower in 15 minutes because they were going on a mission. At that exact moment however, Bucky just so happened to have me face down ass up on our bed and was railing me like an animal untamed by man. He tried to at least make me cum but Tony wouldn’t stop calling and I was getting afraid that he would bust through if Bucky didn’t leave immediately. 

So here we are now, 48 hours and several failed attempts at getting myself off later, I decided that sending my sweet super soldier nudes while he was on a mission and with others would be the best idea. After sending them, I turned my do not disturb on and locked the front door as a little extra teasing but what I didn’t anticipate happening was the scene before me. 

The bedroom window slides open and Bucky slips in without a sound. He’s still in the suit he wears on missions and if I didn’t see the flash of his left hand in the moonlight, I would’ve called for help. Instead, I smirk as I scoot up the bed to sit with my bed against the wall and push my blanket off, leaving my legs bare. He’s still standing where he landed but his eyes are trailing hungrily up them and narrow when they land on my curled lips. For half a second, the fear that it’s the Winter Solider starts to creep in instead but then Bucky speaks, “You sent me nudes while I was on a mission.”

“You were not. It was over and you were on your way home,” I throw back as my legs fall apart so he can see my black thong. 

A growl rips from him, “Fine. You sent me nudes when I was with Sam, Steve, and Stark.”

He pounces on the bed and grips my ankle, pulling me down the bed. I let out a giggle as he traps me between his body and the bed. My body feels light having him back after he had to leave so quickly and although I know I shouldn’t provoke him even more, I can’t help the way that my legs wrap around his waist. 

“You’re a menace,” he grunts against my lips before devouring them. 

I know better than to tease him but I can’t stop when it ends like this. 

[alovesreading]

Masterlist

last updated: 05/01/2024

Please do not repost any of my work anywhere. All of these are purely fictitious and for entertainment purposes.

You can also read on Wattpad: -alovesreading and AO3: alovesreading

If you want me to tag you on any future fics, send me a message :)

Happy reading! 

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Matty Healy

Chicken Shop Date 

Matty Healy x Reader (f) | You and your best friend Amelia came up with a very simple idea of taking celebrities on awkward chicken shop dates, and somehow, it’s managed to become both of your jobs. In the past, you’ve found sitting across from some of the biggest stars on the planet and eating chicken nuggets easy. But then Amelia manages to score you a date with the man who you’ve been obsessed with since you were nineteen; Matty Healy.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | 

Instagram AU |

Be My Mistake 

Matty Healy x Reader (f) | Under the influence, Matty makes one of his biggest mistakes which ends up with him losing you. And now there’s nothing more to do, other than deal with the heartache and pick up the pieces.

Read here

You Go To My Head

Matty Healy x Reader (f) | The plans that Matty has arranged for you to celebrate your first Valentine's Day together are out the window when he becomes ill, but staying in to take care of him doesn't mean the day is ruined. And you assure him of it by saying those words he hasn't heard you say before.

Read here

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Alex Turner

Constant Repeat 

Alex Turner x Original Character (f) | Having worked at Focus Creeps for a year, Ella knows that as a production assistant and part of the crew, there’s one important rule: don’t interact with the talent unless it’s needed. But once she meets Arctic Monkeys, and the recording of the music videos for their upcoming fourth studio album starts, the band seem to become her exception. Not only because they treat her more like a friend than just someone else they’re working with but when Alex continuously makes her blush with his flirting, so enthralled by her that he forgets he’s got a girlfriend, Ella finds herself growing closer to him. As videos are filmed, wrapped and edited, the friendship lines become blurry. Situations unfold, secrets are told and others are kept under lock and key, but how long can Alex and Ella endure being stuck in each other’s minds on constant repeat.

Teaser 1 - Teaser 2 | CR Playlist - Ella’s Playlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Epilogue

Extras (blurbs)

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George Daniel

Nice Kind Of Messy

George Daniel x Reader (f) | Your friends set you up on a blind date, one that you aren't really looking forward to at all but when you find George Daniel there waiting outside the restaurant, there is no doubt it'll be a date to remember.

Read here

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Ross MacDonald 

Quarter Past Midnight 

Ross MacDonald x Reader (f) |  Thanks to your best mate, you’ve found yourself welcoming the New Year at a party one of her bosses is throwing at her new house. Since you stepped foot in the place, your only plan has been to spend the night dancing and drinking with your friends. But it all changes when you find a certain bassist looking at you from across the room. And as the night progresses, and a few kisses are shared, you seem to agree on the fact that you’re leaving the party together.

Read here

‘tis the damn season

Ross MacDonald x Reader (f) | Christmas has been your favourite season since you met Ross MacDonald back in Year 9 when you had just moved to Wilmslow, coincidentally on the same road as him. He becomes your very best friend for the rest of high school, but when that ends, life happens and you just can't stop it. And life is certainly cruel to you and Ross. Every December is a reminder of it, somehow always bringing a chance to ruin things even more. After so many mistakes, how can you get back the times you've always cherished with the silly boy with the dimpled smile?

Part 1 | Part 2

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[theres-a-tvjoe]

as long as stars are above you - drw x sfk

Hi hi hi I’m back with another sanny fic because I can’t stop myself 🫡

Set in the same universe as ‘nice guys throw punches’ and just unmitigated, completely indulgent fluff.

Tags: proposal (!!), engagement, conspiring siblings, family fluff, softest boys in the world

READ ON AO3

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“Okay, I’m just pulling up to the house to pick up Sam,” Josie whispers into the phone, not waiting for Danny to even say hello. She has one hand on the steering wheel of her car as she pulls up out front of the Kiszka family home, peering out the window to make sure Sam isn’t waiting outside.

“Why are you whispering?” Danny whispers back, sitting in his own car a block away where he won’t be spotted. “They can’t hear you.”

“Shut it, asshole,” Josie rolls her eyes, knowing Danny will be able to hear that even over the phone. “Which one of us is taking this plan seriously?”

Danny snorts. “I really doubt anyone is taking this plan more seriously than I am, considering it was my idea and I’m about to walk myself into the proverbial lion’s den.”

“A lion’s den you’ve had your own key for since you were like, 15. I’d hardly classify your second family’s home as a lion's den.”

“You know what I mean,” Danny nearly whines, sighing. “I’m nervous, Jo.”

Josie sighs fondly, sitting back against the driver’s seat as she puts the car in park.

“I know you are,” she says gently. “But Dan, they adore you. You’ve been a fixture in the Kiszka family for over a decade - well before you and Sam ever started dating. And now you’ve been together, what? Five years?”

“Six,” Danny provides, heart fluttering.

“Right,” Josie says. “So this isn’t going to be a surprise to them. They’re going to be thrilled and they’re going to be so touched that you wanted to do this.”

Danny exhales, nodding even though he knows Josie can’t see him.

“I just -,” he swallows. “Yeah. You’re right. Thanks, Jo. And thanks for helping.”

“You’re my big brother, Danny,” Josie says, her smile obvious through the phone. “And Sam is one of my favourite people - it’s not like it’s a hardship to hang out with him, even if I have to pretend it’s for a super secret early birthday present for you.”

“You better get me something good,” Danny says, smiling.

“Oh yeah, don’t worry,” she quips. “I already pre-ordered your big pile of nothing, just have to go pick it up -”

Danny hears a door close in the background of the call, and his heart kicks in his chest.

“Oh shit, he’s coming out,” Josie whispers. “You’ve got two hours - go ask for your blessing! Love you, bye!”

Danny doesn’t even get a word in before she’s hung up. He blows out a breath, starting his car and waiting until he’s sure Sam and Josie are gone before driving up to the Kiszka family home. A break from touring and Christmas coming up means everyone is home under one roof.

Danny gets out of the car, wiping his hands on his pants and taking a steadying breath. Here goes nothing.

-

Danny knocks twice on the door before opening it, just as he’s done since he first met the Kiszka family. It’s so instinctual even though Karen constantly reminds him he doesn’t need to worry, that he’s welcome any time.

“Knock knock,” he calls out, praying his voice doesn’t betray how nervous he is. He can hear sounds coming from the living room, the odd twang of a guitar amidst lively conversation.

Karen’s head pokes around the corner and she smiles widely, immediately coming forward with arms open for a hug.

“Hi honey!” she says, pulling Danny down for a hug. “I didn’t think we’d see you today - Sammy just left.”

“I know,” Danny says, hugging Karen tightly. She’s always been so kind to him, welcoming him with open arms as a gangly teenager and never letting him go. “I actually came to see you all, if that’s okay.”

She presses a firm kiss to his cheek, patting the other one with a gentle hand.

“Of course it is, Daniel, you know that,” she gently admonishes him. She brushes a few errant snowflakes from his shoulders before leading him to the living room. “Come sit, we just made coffee.”

Everyone is seated comfortably in various spots, Jake reclined on the floor with his back against the couch, guitar in hand. Josh is folded like a pretzel in the arm chair, an obscenely large mug in one hand and a book of Mad Libs in the other (concerning, Danny thinks, because the last thing Josh Kiszka needs is a structured game for fart jokes, but he’ll worry about it later). Ronnie is sitting on the other side of the coffee table on the floor, working diligently at untangling a gnarled rope of twinkling lights.

“Hey kiddo,” Kelly says, smiling from where he’s seated on the couch. “Didn’t think we’d see you today - you want a coffee? Come sit.”

“I uh,” Danny clears his throat, wiping his palms on his pants again. God, why is he so sweaty all of a sudden? It’s snowing outside, for fuck’s sake. He’s wearing one of his favourite sweaters (re: one Karen bought him a few Christmases ago that’s covered in little knitted pine trees) and a nicer pair of pants, but he suddenly feels underdressed. “I came to talk to you guys, actually. All of you, if that’s okay.”

It seems to get their collective attention, Karen sitting with a worried expression next to Kelly and Jake setting his guitar down.

“Is everything okay?” Ronnie asks, hands stilling on the tangled lights.

“Yeah, yep,” Danny says, cracking his knuckles nervously. “It’s not - it’s good, not bad. I hope.”

“Sweetheart, why don’t you sit down?” Karen says gently, gesturing to the empty loveseat across from them all.

Danny nods, sitting.

He stands back up almost immediately, too nervous to sit still. He shifts on his feet, swallowing.

“Okay,” he says, more to himself than to the family sitting in front of him. Josh is giving him a worried look, and Jake’s gaze is steady but gentle. “Okay, yeah. So. Alright. Um.”

“Danny,” Josh says, shifting a little to sit forward. “It’s just us. What’s going on?”

Danny looks at them all, taking in the kindness and concern so evident on all of their faces. Faces he’s known for most of his life now. Faces he loves. Faces that are so reflective of the one he loves most in the world.

He nods, blowing out a breath. He makes himself sit down, resting his elbows on his knees and threading his hands together just so they’re occupied.

“You’ve all known me since I was so young,” he starts, praying his voice won’t break. “And you’ve never been anything but welcoming and kind. You gave me a second home like it was no big deal, fed me, cared for me, treated me like I was one of your own.”

Karen takes Kelly’s hand, squeezing it like she’s anticipating something.

“I want to thank you for that,” Danny says, looking at them. He’s doing his best to keep it together, but it’s getting harder by the second. “All of you. It means more to me than I could ever say, and I’m so grateful for each of you and the room you made for me in your lives. It’s a privilege that I don’t take for granted, and I want you to know that.”

“Of course we know that, Danny,” Kelly says, smiling softly. “We love you, kid.”

Danny nods, swallowing. He can feel tears burning behind his eyes, but resolutely keeps them at bay.

“I love you too, so much,” he says, and his voice wobbles a little. He clears his throat. “The respect I have for each of you and for this family is - I can’t even really put it into words. Your opinions and perspectives carry so much weight for me, and I know they do for Sam as well. You’re his world, you know? This family is everything to him, and he’s everything to me.”

“Danny -” Karen says gently, like she’s worried he’s about to fall to pieces.

He gives her a reassuring smile, laughing a little. “Sorry, I know this is kind of weird,” he says. “But I’m almost there, I swear. I just have to say this. It’s important.”

Karen nods, squeezing Kelly’s hand and giving Danny an encouraging nod. Josh, Jake, and Ronnie are still watching Danny carefully.

“I got Josie to take Sam out this morning because I wanted to do this just us,” he explains. He sits up a little, heart pounding. “To have this moment, this conversation. And - well, I guess it’s not really asking for your blessing because we all know that Sam is going to do whatever he wants regardless of what anyone says, but -”

Karen gasps, pressing her hand to her mouth.

Danny smiles, letting out a shuddering breath as he nods. He digs out a little box from his pocket, holding it in his hand.

“I’m going to ask Sam to marry me,” he says, and the words feel like a song. Like the perfect progression of chords, like a rhythm that never ends. He can’t help the nervous laugh that follows, because he just dropped his heart onto the coffee table and has to hope for the best. “And I wanted you all to know first, so that we could talk if, you know, if there was anything you were worried about.”

There’s a moment of silence, certainly no more than a few seconds, that feels like an eternity. And then it’s suddenly broken by a sound, a half hiccuped laugh punctuated by a sniffle.

It’s Jake. His chin is wobbling and there are tears filling his eyes faster than they can roll down his cheeks and he’s smiling.

“Oh, Jakey,” Josh sighs fondly with his own eyes shining, immediately getting out of the armchair to join his twin on the floor. He wraps his arm around his shoulders, tugging him close.

“Jake,” Danny breathes, his own eyes burning. He sits forward, half out of his seat. “Are you - hey, it’s okay -”

Jake shakes his head, still smiling while wiping roughly at his eyes.

“No, it’s - these are happy tears, I swear,” he croaks, voice breaking and choked with tears. “Jesus, Danny. You’ve been our brother for so long, and now it’ll be official.”

“If you’ll have me,” Danny manages to say, tears finally spilling over as he looks at them all. “If Sam will have me.”

That seems to set everyone into motion, all of them getting up and tugging Danny into a massive hug. They’re all crying, happy tears and excited laughter bubbling from the tangle of limbs they’ve made.

“Oh, this is just so special,” Karen sniffs, finally letting Danny go and wiping her eyes. “My first son-in-law!”

“Wait wait,” Ronnie says, holding her hand out. “You had a ring box. Show us!”

“Jake just stopped crying,” Danny teases, earning a whack from the younger twin. He opens the little black box, revealing the gold and black band inside. Golden letters shimmer through the silken black enamel:

ALWAYS

“You’re setting the bar way too high,” Ronnie sniffles, taking the ring out and looking at it. “He’s going to love it. God, he’s going to freak.”

“When are you going to do it?” Josh asks, taking his turn with the ring.

“Well, I was thinking tonight,” Danny says, grinning. “We’ve got a few days before Christmas, so we can celebrate and still leave room for actual Christmas stuff.”

“And then it’s your birthday,” Jake points out.

“Yeah, but that’s whatever,” Danny waves it away. Jake rolls his eyes in disagreement.

“There's supposed to be really nice snowfall tonight,” Danny continues. “So I think we’ll go for a walk. I’ll bring something warm to drink and tell Sam to bring his camera and then,” he wiggles the ring box.

Karen claps her hands together, looking at Kelly. “We can have everyone over tonight,” she says excitedly. “Danny, your family knows, right?”

Danny laughs, her excitement endearing. “They know, yeah.”

“Okay, oh my god,” she says, half spinning on the spot looking for her phone. “Kelly, call Dan and Lori, tell them we’re coming over. We can get everything ready there and then bring it back here so Sam doesn’t suspect anything. We’ll get champagne and snacks and when the boys get back we can surprise Sam and celebrate!”

“Mama,” Josh laughs, reaching out and grabbing her shoulders. “Maybe check with Danny and see if that’s something he wants as part of the night.”

Karen immediately presses her hand to her mouth, turning and grabbing Danny’s hands.

“Oh, of course,” she says. “I’m so sorry, honey! I’m just excited. But whatever you want, if you want the night to yourselves -”

Danny shakes his head, pulling her in for a hug.

“That all sounds amazing,” he insists. “Having everyone together would be perfect.”

Karen claps, nearly jumping up and down on the spot. She turns, looking at her family.

“Alright, Kiszkas. We have work to do!”

-

By the time Danny manages to wrangle Sam out of the house for an evening walk, the sun is beginning to set. They’d enjoyed dinner just the two of them, the house conveniently empty.

“Alright, I’ll admit it,” Sam says, looking through the lens of his camera. “You were right. The light is really nice - god damned winter golden hour shit.”

Danny whistles. “Wow, I might have to write that down. You admitted I was right about something.”

“I’m known for my benevolence.”

“Uh huh,” Danny laughs, holding out a hand for Sam to take. It’s cold, but not so cold that it’s miserable to be outside. They’re bundled up, noses turning pink and breath visible, but the way the setting sun reflects off the snow makes it all worth it.

“Let’s go this way,” Danny says, leading Sam down the path to the nearby park. “Josie was telling me they strung up a bunch of twinkling lights over the bridge.”

“Sounds like you’re trying to put the moves on me, Wagner,” Sam wiggles his eyebrows. “Are you trying to romance me? Woo me? I’m a tough sell, you know.”

Danny snorts. “Oh believe me, I know. You make me work for it.”

“Yeah, but worth the effort,” Sam grins, swinging their hands. They talk about everything and nothing, Sam artfully dodging questions about what he did during the day, thinking he’s keeping a birthday surprise for Danny a secret.

It’s incredibly endearing, and it eases the nerves fluttering in Danny’s stomach.

“Oh wow, that’s pretty,” Sam says, taking his hand back from Danny to snap a photo of the snow dusted park bridge. It’s small, arching pleasantly over a now frozen pond, and twinkling golden lights are strung from the trees on either side and through the railings.

“Here,” Danny says, holding his hand out for the camera. “Go stand on the bridge, I want to take a picture of you.”

“You have a million pictures of me,” Sam says, but hands it over as he walks onto the bridge, standing in the middle.

“Yeah, but this one is special,” Danny murmurs, holding the camera up to his eye. Sam is smiling widely, the glowing sun behind Danny lighting him just enough to paint him gold.

Once he takes it, he moves to join Sam on the bridge, thankful they have the park to themselves in the quiet evening.

“C’mere,” he says, pulling Sam close and pressing their cheeks together. He holds the camera out, hoping it’s at least a little in focus as he takes the selfie.

“That’s what front facing phone cameras are for, grandpa,” Sam teases, still smiling.

“Yeah, yeah,” Danny says. He swallows, heart beating a million miles a minute. “Hey, do me a favour?”

“Nope,” Sam says immediately, popping the p as he starts fiddling with his lens cap.

Danny rolls his eyes, because of course.

“Just -,” he grabs Sam by the shoulders, turning him to face the opposite way, his back to Danny.

“Don’t manhandle me, Daniel -“

“I have a surprise for you, you brat,” Danny laughs. “Shut up and let me do it.”

Sam makes a delighted noise. “Well in that case, carry on.”

“Thanks,” Danny says drily.

The sun is below the horizon now, stars just starting to twinkle overhead. The lights in the trees and on the bridge are casting everything in the golden glow and - just as Danny takes a deep breath - big, fluffy snowflakes start to fall.

He takes the ring box out of his jacket pocket, and lowers himself to one knee. He doesn’t feel the cold - every bone in his body, every nerve ending, every cell, every bit of stardust he’s made of is focused solely on Sam.

“Okay,” Danny says, thankful his voice comes out steady as he opens the box. “You can turn around now.”

Sam turns around, and it takes him a split second to realize Danny isn’t standing. His hands come up to his heart so fast that it almost looks like it hurts.

“Are you fucking serious,” he blurts.

Danny laughs, head thrown back. It’s the most Sam reaction he could’ve hoped for.

“Yeah, Sammy,” Danny says softly, smiling up at him. He can feel the tears in his eyes, but he couldn’t care less. “I’m serious. You have to let me say what I want to say, alright?”

For once - ever, maybe - Sam says nothing, simply nodding, hands over his heart like he’s trying to keep it in his chest.

“Shit,” Danny laughs, wiping at his eyes. “Was really hoping I’d keep it together.”

“You’re doing great,” Sam nearly whispers, the tremble in his voice so painfully sweet that it brings fresh tears to Danny’s eyes.

Danny takes a steadying breath, looking up at Sam.

“Sam,” he starts, no longer fighting the emotion in his voice. “You’ve been my best friend for what feels like my whole life, and if I’m honest, I think I’ve loved you for just as long. You push me, you challenge me, you comfort me, and you understand me like no one else in the world. Every day that I wake up next to you feels like I’ve won the fucking lottery.”

“Even when I steal the blankets?” Sam asks, tears running unchecked down his cheeks.

“Yeah,” Danny laughs, sniffling. “Even when you steal the blankets. Sometimes I think about what life would be like if we hadn’t found each other, if fate or the universe or god or whatever hadn’t brought us together. And… I can’t see it. Not because it’s too painful to imagine, but because I know that there’s no world, no universe, no reality where there’s a me without you. There’s no existence where there’s a Daniel Wagner without a Samuel Kiszka to follow anywhere and everywhere. And -“

He has to take a second to wipe his eyes and take a breath, voice breaking.

“And that makes me feel like I could take on the world, Sam,” he whispers. “It makes me feel unstoppable. Knowing I have you next to me, in my corner and by my side, it makes me feel like there’s nothing I couldn’t do.”

He reaches out and tugs one of Sam’s hands down, pressing his lips to the cold skin of his knuckles.

“You make me so fucking happy, Sam,” he says. “And if you’ll let me, I want to spend the rest of my life doing everything I can to make you feel the same way. Will you marry me?”

There's a long moment of silence, and then before Danny even registers that the other man has moved, his back is hitting the snow and he has his arms full of Sam Kiszka.

“Yes!” Sam cries, the sound muffled by Danny’s hair and jacket and probably a mouthful of snow. He’s pressing furious kisses to Danny’s neck, then his jaw, and then all over his face, each punctuated by another ‘yes!’.

Sam sits up, straddling Danny’s lap, hair flying wild and snowflakes kissing his eyelashes.

“I’m making Daniel Wagner my husband!” He whoops, so loud that Danny can’t help but laugh. He rests his hands on Sam’s thighs, content to stare up at him for as long as he can.

Sam looks like an angel, cheeks flushed with cold and lashes still damp with joyous tears. Danny takes Sam’s left hand, setting the ring box on his own chest to pull the gold band out.

“There,” he says, sliding the band onto Sam’s ring finger. “Official.”

Sam lifts his hand, looking at the band. His smile is radiant, eyes shining.

“Always,” he reads aloud. He leans down, holding Danny’s jaw with his left hand as he brushes their noses together. “Promise?”

Danny smiles. “Promise.”

-

“Shh, they’re coming!” Ronnie hisses, nearly skidding on the floor as she runs to hide behind the couch.

All the lights are out in the Kiszka home, everyone tucked behind various pieces of furniture to conceal themselves from view. Strung over the fireplace is a massive banner, lovingly but hastily painted with hearts and ‘CONGRATULATIONS DANNY AND SAM’.

“Man, this will be awkward if Sam said no,” Josie remarks, yelping when Lori pinches her side in reprimand.

The sound of a key turning in the lock makes everyone quiet down, the door opening.

Sam is tapping his boots against the hallway mat, shaking off the snow. “Daniel, if we still have the house to ourselves then I’m about to give you the ride of your life -“

Danny’s eyes go wide, cheeks flushing. He knows everyone is within earshot. “Sam -“

“SURPRISE!”

The lights turn on and everyone pops up from behind couches and bookshelves. Sam nearly jumps out of his skin, screaming and instinctively grabbing for Danny.

“Thank god we interrupted that sentence,” Josh quips, blowing into a paper party horn. Danny looks up at the ceiling, shaking his head with a grin.

“Well?!” Karen asks, bouncing on the spot.

Sam doesn’t move for a long moment, face impressively passive.

Danny pinches him and Sam breaks into a wide grin, holding up his hand. The gold band is there, a perfect fit.

“We’re engaged!” He hollers, immediately kicking off his shoes and jumping into the chaos of family, everyone shouting in excitement and piling in for hugs.

Danny grins, taking off his jacket and shoes, letting himself savour the view for just a moment before joining the fray.

“I like the banner,” he says once he’s exchanged hugs and kisses with everyone, putting his arm around Sam. Around his fiancé.

“Let’s just say there was a battle of wills to end up where we are now,” Dan says, giving his son a rueful smile.

“I maintain ‘same penis forever’ is a great engagement banner,” Josh says, somehow now in possession of a paper party hat that says ‘bridesmaid’ on it.

“It is,” Jake agrees.

“Alright,” Karen claps her hands, ignoring the twins. “Time for a toast!”

Kelly pops a bottle of champagne, filling glasses as everyone passes them around. There’s music playing in the background, the fireplace lit, the Christmas tree twinkling in the corner. Danny’s pretty sure he’s never been happier in his life.

He pulls Sam close, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“We’ve all been family for so long,” Dan says, holding up his glass. “But it feels like magic to welcome you officially into the family tonight, Sam. We couldn’t ask for anything more in a son in law, and couldn’t ask for anyone better for Danny. We love you.”

Danny presses his face into Sam’s hair, trying to keep more tears at bay, but it’s useless. He’s too happy, too fucking grateful for this moment.

“Thank you, Dan,” Sam says, eyes shining.

“And to our gentle giant,” Kelly says, raising his glass. “Danny, it’s our honour to officially welcome you to our family. You’ve been a brother to Jake and Josh since you were just a kid, but to Sam you were always more - his lighthouse, his rock. You make each other better, and we are so proud of you both.”

“To Sam and Danny,” Jake calls, lifting his glass.

“To Sam and Danny!”

The clink of glasses sounds like ringing bells as Danny leans down to kiss Sam properly, smiling against his lips.

“To us,” he whispers.

“Hell yeah,” Sam grins. “Always, baby.”

[rmd-writes]

5, 14, and 17, please, Rae!

Thanks Courtney!

5. first sentence of the fifth paragraph of an unpublished WIP

There’s silence while she waits for her dad to speak and it feels heavy, like the air is pushing on her.

14. where do you get your inspiration?

Anywhere really, sometimes it's something I've seen on social media, other times someone has mentioned a prompt that I couldn't stop thinking about, or seen fan art that's inspired me. Often I'll be mid-conversation with fandom friends and something they've said makes me start thinking about a potential fic. Sometimes it's spite 😉

17. talk about your writing and editing process

tbh they're kind of the same thing! I edit as I write which is sometimes an issue because I get stuck editing instead of writing. To force myself out of doing this, sometimes I use the gdocs headings so that I don't scroll through the entire doc and can just click on the outline instead to get to where I was up to.

The process itself is something like:

1. come up with idea 2. flesh it out in someone's DMs (usually @welcometololaland) which may or may not involve messages or voice notes that say things like "ignore this I just had to get it out of my head" 3. copy notes from DMs to my private writing discord and/or google doc 4. outline (may have already occured at step 3 if I'm not doing a detailed outline) 5. write (almost always chronologically unless a scene or dialogue comes to mind fully formed) 6. edit 7. complain about writing/having no time to write/words not working etc etc 8. edit 9. write more 10. edit 11. send snippets to friends and/or add them to gdoc for validation (this one is ESSENTIAL. I am not a writer who can write on their own without constant feedback) 12. repeat steps 5-11 until fic is done. 13. full edit as if I'm beta reading someone else's fic + coding if necessary (there's a whole separate process for that, it involves threatening to throw whatever device I'm working on out of a window) 14. send to beta (sometimes I do this before 13 if I need to stop looking at the doc) 15. final edit 16. post to ao3 and inevitably find typos that I somehow missed 17. edit 18. go to sleep and hopefully wake up to nice comments

[more fic writer asks]

[eldritchelfwriter]

WIP Wednesday

Thanks for the tag @sorceresssundries !

All right, normally I don't post actual WIP's because I like being super secretive about upcoming chapters. HOWEVER. I'm going to throw caution to the wind and give you a lil slice of an (unpublished and very early draft) Aylin/Isobel AU idea I came up with a few weeks ago. Is this a fic you'd be interested to read, if I continued it? Let me know in the comments.

~~~

“So that’s it? You’re just off?” Jeh’lar says, raising her eyebrows at Aylin.

Aylin shrugs her bag over her shoulder, rapidly running through her mind all the last-minute things she’d needed to tie up. There is no paperwork left unfinished, no duties left undone, no promises left unkept. Her slate is clean and she’s free to go.

“That’s right, I’m off,” Aylin says.

“You’re not even going to commiserate with your favourite sergeant, who has to see the Minth this morning?” Jeh’lar says with a hint of a whine.

Aylin purses her lips but says nothing. She does not approve of the nickname the rest of the unit have given their new squadron commander, Lieutenant Colonel Minthara, but saying something about it would earn her no friends. She has a suspicion Jeh’lar was the one who started the nickname in the first place.

“My commiserations, Jeh’lar,” she says with an ironic smile. “Although, have you considered it might be good news?”

Jeh’lar rolls her eyes. “It’s never good news with the Minth.”

The Lt Col rules the squadron with an iron fist. The discipline is not something Aylin minds, though her cold manner chafes with some of the others.

“You’ll be fine, Jeh’lar,” she says. “Just be on your best behaviour and do not, for gods sake, call her the Minth to her face.”

“Yeah,” Jeh’lar says sheepishly. “All right. I’m just stalling you, coz I’ll miss you, Moon Angel.”

“Of course you will,” Aylin says, clapping her on the shoulder. “Try not to blow anything up while I’m gone.”

She turns to leave.

“How long are you gone for?” Jeh’lar calls out to her.

“Three weeks,” Aylin calls back, without turning around.

All around her, the rest of the base is waking up and getting ready to get to back work. A part of her itches to join them and take her place amongst the hive, but the hive will just have to go on without her while she keeps her feet on the ground for the next three weeks.

She signs herself out, and then she is walking out of the base of the 53rd Fighter Wing with her bag slung over her shoulder, a brilliant yellow and orange sunrise reflecting on her aviators.

A familiar old Ford Focus is parked and waiting for her. And an even more familiar someone is waving out the driver’s window madly at her. “Aylin! Aylin!”

Someone else is yelling from the backseat window: “Oi you! Get in here will you!”

A smile spreads across Aylin’s face, the first genuine one in a long time. Lia opens the driver’s door and crosses the last few metres to wrap Aylin a hug.

“I always forget how bloody ripped you are! It’s like hugging a statue!”

“Hello to you too,” Aylin says, smiling. “My thanks for coming to get me.”

“Lia you are letting all the cold air in would you hurry up and both get in the car?” Lia’s kid brother Cal, who isn’t so much a kid brother any more, yells from the backseat.

“Shut it will you!” Lia yells back, in the manner of exasperated older siblings. “All right, get in then,” she says to Aylin, smiling.

Aylin takes the front passenger seat, slouching to fit in and bunching up her legs to try and get them into a comfortable position. She’s used to this problem with most cars, but it makes her miss the cockpit of her F-15 already. It may not be spacious exactly, but at least there is room for all of her.

She sighs and mentally makes herself put that aside – she is on leave. It’s time to have some fun.

“All right then, Aylin?” Cal says from the back, sounding genuinely pleased to see her. It’s been a long while since she saw Lia, but even longer since she’s seen Cal. Lia was her friend and neighbour before her mother moved them into a richer neighbourhood. But they managed to keep the friendship going. Lia is the closest and longest friend she’s ever had.

“I am excellent Cal, how are you keeping? Are you still at Gortash’s Emporium?” That’s the last she heard he was doing, anyway.

“Hell no! Lia, you haven’t told her?!”

“Why would I tell her your news, loser?” Lia retorts as she puts the car into gear and drives away. Aylin is tempted to look back and watch the base disappear behind her, but she doesn’t. Time to look forward, to this time they are about to have together.

“It’s not like your life is interesting,” Cal replies.

Aylin smiles, finding their exchange rather endearing. As an only child, she never got to experience sibling rivalries.

“Anyway,” Cal continues, addressing Aylin again. “You’re looking at the maître d’ at Stelmane’s!”

“Stelmane’s?” Aylin says in an undertone to Lia, not recognising the name.

“It’s a very fancy restaurant,” Lia whispers back, deliberately loud enough for Cal to hear.

“What? You haven’t heard of Stelmane’s?” Cal says, looking crestfallen.

“It is not the kind of thing that comes up while flying fighter jets, Cal,” Aylin says.

She listens to the siblings bicker all the way back to their house. Lia parks in the driveway, next to her mother’s four wheel drive, and Aylin can’t help but feel an ache of nostalgia as she flicks her eyes to the neighbouring house. She lived there, once, in a simpler time, before everything got complicated.

Someone else lives there now. Someone with a garish taste in lawn furniture.

She shakes her head to clear away the old memories, and joins Cal and Lia, slinging the bag over her shoulder and following them into the house. But walking into their house is like entering the past in itself. Everything is just the same as it always has been, from the green and yellow wallpaper to the threadbare sofas. It’s almost a relief that something can remain so unchanged, after all this time.

“Well there you are then,” Mrs Helliwell says, stretching on her tip toes to try and pull Aylin’s face down to kiss her cheek. The woman was almost a second mother to Aylin when she was a child. She is shorter than her children, and all the years of putting up with their arguing has added grey flecks to her short, curly hair. She hadn’t been wearing glasses last time Aylin saw her.

“You’re looking well, Mrs Helliwell,” Aylin says politely. “Is that a new cardigan? Most seasonal, and warm.”

Cal sniggers behind her.

“Oh, this old thing!” Mrs Helliwell says, brightening at the compliment. “And you’re looking tall, as always. And fit, goodness! I bet you could lift me right up!”

“Oh please do Aylin,” Cal says with a mischievous smile.

Aylin ignores him.

“See what I have to put up with?” Mrs Helliwell says, confidentially, with the long-suffering air of an old grievance. “I keep trying to get them to leave home and they keep on coming back and giving me cheek!”

“Come on,” Lia, who has been rolling her eyes at the whole exchange, pulls at her sleeve. “I know you’ve been wondering.”

Aylin drops her bag off in Lia’s room, where a camp bed has been set up for her for the night and follows Lia into the garage. Her eyes immediately find a misshapen object in the shadows, bookended by travel cases and old buckets of paint.

Lia switches the light on, just as Aylin pulls off the cover.

“We haven’t touched it,” Lia says, watching her. “Promise. Cal wanted to, but I nicked his Playstation controllers til he promised to leave it alone.”

Aylin hardly hears Lia, as she gazes upon the gleaming Harley Davidson, her pride and joy.

“Shall I leave you two alone?” Lia says, teasing. “You look like you’re in love.”

Aylin ignores her as she makes her inspection. Not a nick on the paintwork. She turns the key and switches on the ignition to check it’s still running. The familiar deep putter throbs from the motor, and for a moment, she dreams of riding away, the wind on her face, feeling as though she is doing a different type of flying altogether. She switches it off, with a vague sense of disappointment.

Now isn’t the time.

“Thank you, Lia,” she says with a little bow of her head. “I appreciate your taking such good care of her for me.”

“Of course Aylin. It’s practically family too. All right what do you want to do?”

~~~

(There's more. But that's all you get to see for now).

[writing-with-emy]

Hi okay so! I saw your requests were open so I’m here to beg on my knees for a Fezco x reader euphoria fic!!

I’m just in desperate need for a fluffy comedy fic with him 🧎🏼‍♀️ with prompts of 15 and 19! I’m thinking it’s like the New Year’s party and the reader is just being so annoying but fez can’t help but just smile ya know that kinda vibe 😩 thanks

New Years Eve - Fezco x gn!reader

*REQUESTS ARE CLOSED* | Fezco Masterlist | Prompt List | (A/N: I hope you like it! I watched Kim Possible while finishing it, and I'm so sorry that it took so long!) Shipping: Fezco x gn!reader Summary: It's New Years Eve, while being drunk you decided to have a talk with Fezco and slightly annoying him, even if you didn't remember what had happened the next day. Word count: 872 Prompts: #15: "If you do that again, I'll throw you out that fucking window you- what are you doing?"; "Checking how High the drop is, see if it's worth it." & #19: "I don't like saying 'I told you so', but-"; "The Hell you don't, it's your favorite phrase." Warnings: Nothing really, some curse words, drinking, mention of having a hangover, Not proof read, English is not my first language

You have no Idea how long you have been in Virgils house. The Party has been going on for probably way too long, but you have no really good memories of what had all happened. You didn’t even have a plan when you lost Kat & Maddy here. So you just walked around in the House, holding a red solo cup in your hand with some random red Liquor. You downed your drink furrowing your brows together while the burning in your throats starts. You put the Cup somewhere on a shelf while tumbling through the Living Room. You looked around when you saw Fezco sitting on a couch. Grinning you naked your way to Fezco. “Fezziii!”, you smiled tumbling to Fezco. “God, how much have you been drinking?”, he laughs. a smile putting itself on your face. “Not much, just a little bit.”, you slurred. “Yeah, tell you that yourself.”, he said, taking a hit. “Come on, what have you been up to the last few weeks?”, you smiled, fully turning to him. “Nothing much, the usual you know?”, he said looking at you. “Boring.”, you stated leaning against the cushion. “What’ve you been doin’?”, he asked. “The Usual..”, you Murmur. “And I’m boring.”, he stated. “Oh shut it.”, you smiled, hitting him lightly on the shoulder. “And any Goals for next year?”, you asked. “Nah, I don’t do that shit.”, he said looking at you. “Why?” “I don’t really see a thing in that.”, he said. “That’s lame.”, you said. “DIdn’t we just have that whole thing with being boring?”, he questioned. “Maybe.”, you said, smiling sweetly. “You shouldn’t drink that much, ya know?” “Why?”, you asked, poking his cheek. “Because you get really annoying, when you’re drunk.”, he said laughing. You put a Hand on your chest while gasping. “I pretend like I didn’t just hear that.” You poke his cheek again. “Why are you doin’ that?”, he gave you the Side-Eye. “Doin’ what?”, you imitate him with your voice, while still poking his cheek. He grabbed your hand so you stopped poking him. “Hey!”, you said. “If you do that again, I’ll throw you out that fuckin’ window you- what are you doin’?”, he asked while you stood up looking out the Window he pointed to. “Checking how high the drop is, seeing if it’s worth it. You know?”, you pointed out, going back to Fezco behind the Couch, leaning down next to him. “And let me tell you it isn’t.”, you stated, climbing over the back to sit next to him. You wanted to continue talking, but you were pulled off the couch by Jules. “Sorry, Fezco, I need to borrow them.”, Jules said, pulling you after her. You looked behind you, seeing Fezco watching you two smiling, shaking his head.

“Sorry to interrupt you love birds like that, but I can’t find Kat and I only saw you, so you need to drink with me.”, she said, stopping in the Kitchen. “Jules, I already had enough, I don’t think I should drink more.”, you said, trying to be convincing, not only for Jules but also for yourself. “It’s New Years Eve, today you can never have enough.”, she said, giving you a shot. Looking at the shot you took a deep breath. “Okay, Fuck it.”, you said. “That’s the spirit.”, she smiled at you. You both throwed the shot back at the same time, making faces while the burning sensation started in your throats.

You have no Idea, when or how you came home the next day, better to say to Fezco’s Home. When you woke up, all you felt at first was your major headache and nausea. When you opened your eyes, you saw Fezco’s Living Room then you heard something from the Kitchen. You sat up looking around while holding your head. “What time is it?”, you asked with a rough voice. “Four p.m.”, Fezco said. “Fuck, when or how did I came here?”, you asked, pulling the blanket more over your bare legs. “Well, Ash had a rough time, with a High Rue and a fully Drunk you.”, he said laughing slightly. “Fuck..”, you breathed a smile tugging on your lips. “Here, an aspirin and water. You probably need it.”, he said smiling, giving you a pill and a glass of water. "Definitely, my head hurts like hell, shit.”, you laughed. Regretting it in the next moment, when the headache sended a wave through your brain that felt like a million needles poking your brain at the same time. You downed the aspirin with the Water in one go.“I don’t like saying ‘I told you so’, but-” “The Hell you don’t , it’s your favorite phrase.”, you interrupted him. “Maybe.”, he said grinning. “Can we just like..Stay on the couch? Watching Kim Possible?”, you asked looking at him pleading. “Really? Kim Possible?”, he asked. “Yes please.”, you said, smiling sweetly. He took a deep breath, before turning on the TV switching to Disney Channel to watch Kim Possible. “You Know, you're really annoying when you're drunk.”, he said. “And you know, you are really annoying with a hangover.”, you said looking at him. Grinning he shook his head, before lightning his Blunt.

[fazedlight]

fanfic writer questions

Thanks for the tag, @sssammich @waytooinvested ❤️❤️

1- How many works do you have on AO3?

With today's publishing of Clockwork (which has a moodboard I'm super proud of 😭), I have 19 works!

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

204,675 words! A few are missing since I haven't uploaded my most recent ficlets yet.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Supergirl :) Generally supercorp, though I do have a dansen ficlet, and my first rojarias fic will be out in a couple months for @supergirlmayhem!

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

No One and Nothing (season 4 rift) So I Kept Pretending (my first fic 🥺) Synthesis (season 2 fix-it) Inauthentic (pink kryptonite finale fix-it... it's not what you think!!) Iridescent (season 5 rift fic)

5. Do you respond to comments?

I do!!

When I first started, I actually thought you weren't "supposed" to respond to all your comments. I eventually decided to throw that thought out the window, because I'm really grateful for comments and want to thank people. They really do mean the world to authors ❤️

(If someone has multiple in a row, I usually respond to just one in a cluster, but I appreciate all of them!)

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I'm only capable of happy endings.

That said, Darkness in All Things and Iridescent had the most... complication in their endings. Things aren't perfect, but all the relevant characters are alive and happy.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

They are all happy 😌

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I've gotten comments from some known trolls and a couple of rude folks. It's worth noting that even the big authors get them, so I largely ignore/delete them.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I have written smut once. I will do it at least once more. It tends to lean towards soft, and I find myself kind of terrified to throw smutty things into the world. (I think this is the ex-Catholic trauma talking.)

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I haven't written a crossover. This tweet is the best I've got on that front 🤣

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of. (I have no idea why people even do this... how do you feel proud of something you didn't even do?)

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I know of.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope! I've never even had a fic beta'd. The idea of either of those terrifies me.

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

Xena/Gabrielle will always be dearest to my heart. I just never felt the need to write for that ship - the show gave me almost everything I wanted. (If you ever watch it, make sure to watch season 6 in spaghetti order.)

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

None! I only have 2 published WIPs, both of which I'm super excited to complete (they were started earlier this year). For my unpublished WIPs, I'm pretty confident in them too.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think I come up with good plots to explore the characters with.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Writing 😭 I have this story in my head that I want to tell - how the characters change and are interpreted and all that - but I find I never get close to conveying what I actually want. Writing is very hard!

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Eep, I don't want to screw up another language. I occasionally include kryptonese when it feels natural, but otherwise I don't do this.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Supercorp got me writing fanfiction, and for that I am very grateful.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

This is a hard one.

Almost every fic, when I write it, is like my CHILD. It usually becomes my favorite - or at least top 3 - for the time I am writing it.

I will say Even Though You're Kryptonian (which, coincidentally, was the 20,000th supercorp fic). It started off as a lark to use some ideas I thought I'd never get around to otherwise, but ended up weaving together better than I thought it would.

But that's an answer that changes by the day.

No-pressure tags: @luthordamnvers @snowydragonscave @lgbtimelords @rustingcat @ekingston @thecasualqueer @fabulousglitch @nottawriter @thatonebirdwrites @trashpandato

[asleep-in-the-keep-sideblog]

Asleep In The Keep: A DP x BNHA fic

Summary: Aizawa soothes Danny

Word count: 2412

Chapter 22: Star Boy

It was 11:56 am when Shouta woke up. He stared up at the black ceiling of his empty home. It was 4 minutes before his alarm would go off, forcing him to get back out into the field. Hizashi was busy either with hero work, finding Phantom, or helping prep for the upcoming training camp for class 1-A & B. As much as those kids deserve a break, they need to be prepared for what's coming, more so than any other class. The kids never should have been exposed to the LOV, but that was out of their control now. What they can control is how much access the League has to the kids. With the training grounds so far away (and several dummy locations), it should stop the league from finding them. Shouta had a bad feeling in his stomach. He just had to keep trusting Nezu. 

The alarm blared in his ear, startling The Queen of Arson from her throne, which was less importantly Shouta's chest. She quietly curled her head back down, unbothered. Shouta looked down at her and rubbed her head, her purring in response. This part always hurt… With regret already in his bones, Shouta slowly rose out of his bed, gently lifting the blanket underneath her so she wouldn’t immediately notice his departure. He lowered her back down once he was completely out. Of course, she could tell the difference, and looked back at him in disgust, then jumped off the bed. Pancake ran after her, trying to play, annoying her further. 

As much as Shouta wanted to stay and watch the cats, he had a job to do. He stripped out of his dirty jumpsuit and threw it in the hamper. It was Hizashi’s week to do the laundry. He thinks . He rummaged through his bare closet but was only able to find an atrocious pair of pink sweatpants that said Juicey, on the butt. Absolutely not. Hizashi had gotten them for him 5 years ago for an anniversary, and they were only to be worn in the house. He went back to the hamper and smelled the old suit, it didn’t smell that bad. He took them into the bathroom and hung it on the empty towel hook. Then took the scented spray from under the sink and sprayed away the surface stench of an alley. This would have to do. 

It didn’t take long after that to get ready. On his way out the door, his third cat, Sushi, rubbed against his leg. He crouched down to pet her, ignoring the slight pain in his leg. He looked around for the others and secretly fed her a treat he kept in his pocket for the strays. And with that, Shouta was out the door. 

His mind raced with thoughts of Phantom and the café, he just hoped he was still there. He had no idea how he was gonna get the boy to join UA. He distracted himself with a more current problem, the training camp.

He had been hoping for an in to place Shinso in the class, and this could be it. He had been training him since the sports festival, and could tell he was more competent than some of his other students. His personality could push his other students in the right direction and force them to use their heads. Throwing him into the mix could also throw off the League, at least for a while. He didn’t like the idea of using children as pawns, but again, he had to trust Principal Nezu. Shouta had made up his mind long ago anyway…

The café was only a 15 minute bus ride, and too soon he was kicked off. He watched the café from the outside for a moment, confused by what he saw. All the windows emanated a white light, but the street lamps around the shop were burned out. A dozen alarm bells went off in his head. 

Shouta crept towards the door, ears and eyes open for whatever could be waiting for him. He knew Phantom glowed and had blasts of some kind, but was this his doing or something else? There was always the possibility that the LOV had found him. Regardless, he had to call for backup from UA. He grabbed for his phone, but as soon as his fingers touched the case, it shocked him. He tried turning it on but it was dead. Great. 

The phones for heroes were designed to be resistant to most everything, especially electric or other power-emitter quirks. Was this the league? A new member of theirs, or Phantom? If it was the boy, how many quirks did he have jammed into him? It didn’t matter if Shouta had backup or not, he needed to help Phantom. 

He pushed the door open with no resistance, chills running up his spine. It was still early in the day, so it made sense for it to be unlocked, but the ease still bothered him. Shouta tried to sneak in, but he wasn’t small enough to fit through the gap, and the bell dinged. He braced himself for an attack, but only felt gentle gusts of cold wind. The whole café was silent except for a faint buzz. Shouta walked into the threshold and finally saw the source of the light. 

There, by the front of the counter, was the curled up form of Phantom, floating and shining brightly like a star. Shouta just stared at the specter, transfixed and disturbed by the light show. Phantom was dimming in and out of visibility, his hair and lights flashing a different color as he returned. Greens, purples, whites and blues pulsed in and out with the boy. It was like the northern lights, or maybe closer to stardust since he looked so much like a star.

Shouta put on his goggles for some relief, afraid he would have a seizure if he stared at the thing for too long. Hairs rose on the back of his neck at the activation of his quirk- but nothing happened. He tried again for longer but with the same result. Shouta should’ve been surprised, but he wasn’t. Logic and common sense wasn’t something that affected the boy thus far. 

Shouta let out a frustrated sigh, and slowly approached the boy. With each step, a sharp cold wind blew into his bones and he exhaled, feeling numb. Is this what Mt. Lady was talking about in the report? 

Shouta pressed on, not wanting to fail the kid before he even got the chance to try. He wrapped his scarf around his face to protect from the cold, and marched forth. He was only 3 feet away when he heard the kid mumbling. It was incompressible and sounded scratchy and acidic. It hurt his teeth. Another wind knocked Shouta down, causing him to hit his bad knee. He grit his teeth in determination, but got up, it was not the worst pain he felt. More and more blasts of cold went through him as if trying to keep him away (which was very likely). Once he had good balance again, he started walking, adrenaline in his veins making him completely numb. It was like climbing up a snowy mountain. Finally he reached Phantom. He stretched out his scarf and wrapped them around the boy, but he did not budge. Shouta didn’t expect him to, he just needed an anchor. With his hands free, he dug through his many pockets. Shouta clumsily found his space blanket and unwrapped it. He tried to wrap it around Phantom, but the wind was too strong. His scarf was starting to fray, despite that being near impossible. In a hasty moment, Shouta grabbed the boy's shoulder.

Everything stopped. 

Light bulbs shattered as the boy fell down. Fortunately Shouta was able to catch him, if barely. He looked at his face, which was blue and slack. So this is what he looks like… Shouta had to file that away for later. He hurriedly wrapped the blanket around the boy. It was clear he had an ice quirk, but even they could get hypothermia if overused. He started rubbing the boy’s back and arms, trying to get him and Phantom warmer. He felt like frozen meat.

“Oh god…” Shouta cursed. His quirk wasn’t suited for this. The boy’s heart wasn’t beating and Shouta had to hope that it was a side effect of the kid's quirk instead of the very obvious truth. Shouta was holding a dead kid with white hair, a scene that was already very familiar to him. 

“Shit!” he cursed louder, at himself more than anything. He started to aggressive rubbing faster, trying to get any warmth through him. His fingers were numb and he could no longer bend them right. In his frenzy, he almost didn’t hear the boy groan. 

“Phantom?” he questioned. Another groan. Shouta nearly laughed from relief. “Are you okay, kid?” He didn’t try to hide how frantic he felt. He checked the boy’s heartbeat, but still felt nothing. No warmth radiated from the boy either, if he hadn’t made a noise Shouta would still think he was dead. Maybe he is a phantom, Shouta thought. 

“My god, you’re freezing…” he held him tighter, hoping to give whatever warmth he could to the boy. The ice around them started to melt, which had to be a good sign. 

“Come on, just breathe…” Shouta started breathing deeply to guide him, and slowly the kid started mimicking him, but grumbled. “There you go, in” Shouta breathed in and the boy copied, if a bit more shallowly. “And out…come on kid” the adrenaline had started to go down and Shouta could feel himself grow tired. 

Finally after a few more breaths, the boy slowly opened his eyes. They were black and looked like a galaxy. Recognition lit like fire in his eyes, and too quickly he was scooting away from Shouta. Panic and confusion were clear on his face, but underneath it was a layer of fear. Shouta raised his hands slowly. The boy had been through a lot, he didn’t need Shouta stressing him out more.

With the excitement out of his system, Shouta started to shiver, but he clenched his teeth and bared it. Phantom eyed him, his eyes radiating a toxic green glow. He was instantly on guard, and unconsciously settled into a fighting stance. Shouta’s heart sank a little, but it was expected. He waited for the teenager to make the first move, not wanting to scare him. Teens were like animals when scared (or all the time really). He eyed Shouta’s body, or more specifically the frost on his torso. Phantom looked at his own hands and then around the café. Realization flashed through his eyes and his face twisted. 

The boy’s shoulders jerked, suddenly aware of the slight weight on them. Phantom grabbed the blanket like it was a snake about to bite him. His brow shifted as he saw what it was and then he looked at Shouta with new understanding. He still wasn’t completely relaxed, but it was a start.

His face suddenly went green, as if he was about to throw up, and his face twisted as if he ate something sour. He started fiddling with the blanket, twisting it into a tight whip. His eyes left Shouta for the first time as he looked down to the floor. He bowed, just as awkwardly as last time. Shouta’s heart went out to him. 

“You don’t have to do that.” The silence and tension was broken between them but now replaced with awkwardness radiating off the teen. He stopped still mid bow, and stood up rigidly. It was nice to see the teen recover so quickly. 

“Uhh you too” Shouta didn’t know what he meant by that and was about to say as much when the boy said, “I mean, be on the ground.” Suddenly the teen rolled his eyes, as if Shouta misinterpreted him intentionally. 

He got up, slowly, both to ease the boy and not to injure his knee anymore. When he fully stood up, he was tempted to pop his back, but this was the wrong time. The two just stared at each other, not sure how to bring up what happened. Shouta’s eyes shifted to his blanket and the boy followed. 

“Here, sorry.” In a second, the boy cut the distance between them and shoved the blanket in Shouta’s chest, face green. This kid needed a doctor…  

“Thank you.” Shouta nodded. Now that the kid had nothing in his hands, he started fiddling with his gloves. He looked slightly different than in the report. Instead of a hazmat suit, he wore a café uniform with a turtleneck and apron. It was clear that he was the same barista from before, and the boy must’ve known that Shouta knew. He looked like he was about to say something when Shouta interrupted him.

“I won’t tell the Hero Commission” A dirty trick, lying by omission. He was going to tell principal Nezu, but no one who would harm the boy. 

“The commission?” He quirked his head.

“Yes. That’s why the news and that group of heroes are after you.” he clarified. Clearly the boy didn’t know about them. Why would AFO keep him in the dark about them? “You do know why they’re after you, right?” the boy shook his head. Jesus. 

Shouta could talk to him about that later. Right now, it was clear the boy needed medical attention or at least some form of care.

“I know a doctor who could help you, she won’t ask any questions unless it has to do with your health.” He needed to get the kid to UA, for his own safety. 

“I’m fine.” the kid stated without hesitation. 

“I’m sure you are, but you were frozen-” Phantom cut him off. 

“I said I’m fine” And that was the end of the discussion. It made sense not to trust Shouta, hell, he wouldn’t either if he were in Phantom’s situation. He wished he could show Phantom that he was genuine. 

“Is there at least a safe place for you to go? Truly safe?” Phantom narrowed his eyes at Shouta, but nodded. Shouta had to get the boy to trust him first before he introduced him to the idea of joining an organization that he (probably) never heard about. 

“Good.” And he meant that.

[writing-for-the-gays]

it can be more vague !!! I'm completely fine with that :) if you wanted to put some interests for the reader you could do art and illustration stuff !! something like the reader drawing Evan and stuff they do in their relationship if that's okay !!

OHOHOHO I HAVE IDEAS

SFW and fluffy! Two nerds in love bc I know Evan is a dweeb nerd. Writers block was up my ass on this one ✊😔

Deer coded Evan supremacy

Snail of seperation so you know where the fic starts

- you two were Internet friends for a long while before you ever met in person.

- you chatted casually on postal forums when the first game started picking up fans, and realized you were on a few other forums too, mainly music related ones, and slowly became friends.

- You began to message regularly on Myspace. Mostly about gaming and piracy.

- you two meet in person before the end of the year in 2008, at a new Year's Eve party both of you had been invited to.

-You kiss at that same party, right as the clock struck midnight.

- You both were really drunk, mind you, and honestly it was nothing more than a peck, but to the both of you it was crazy intense.

-you two go quite a bit after that, not messaging each other. Not for any particular reason (Evans overwhelming fear of fucking it up)

-but when you start talking again it's like nothing happened and you're stuck in a weird limbo of maybe being together for a bit.

- then he confesses.

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

Your fingers tap lightly on the table, staring out the window into the drizzling rain outside makes you wonder if Evan is ever going to show up.

It's been 15 minutes since the meet up time and for a normally punctual person this was odd. It made you worried; but everything did recently, no shocker.

Taking a sip of the sweet drink you'd ordered didn't help calm your nerves, you weren't sure if it was because you didn't know what he wanted to talk about (you know very, very, well what he wants to talk about) or because he wasn't here yet but you didn't want to be seen, sinking into the plush chair.

The 'ding' of the coffee shop door opening makes you perk right back up, and lo and behold there he is, stoic and strong to like a stag in the forest, the light catches his eyes and they go from an earthy brown to a honey gold.

He squints against the sun, and scans the room looking for you, when he spots you, a hand goes up and he waves limply; in what feels like slow motion he moves over to your table and sits down.

You sit with him for a moment, an uncomfortable tension filling the space between the two of you. You inhale softly through your nose before begging to talk.

"Look I'm sorry about the new years party-"

"I'm sorry that I kissed you at the-"

Just at the same time he did. It makes you jump a bit and he blushes bright red. "ah go ahead-." He says quietly, gesturing at you.

"I'm sorry about the party... I'm... Ugh I'm sure you can guess I was drunk... I...." You stumble for what to say for A moment before Evan speaks suddenly

"I think I want to explore whatever... This is." He says, tapping a knuckle on the wooden top of the table. "It's... Understandable if you don't and I'm not going to force you into anything but I enjoyed that night, and if you're willing I'd like to-"

You damn near throw yourself onto him in a hug "Fuck- i was so worried i fucked it up-" you muttered softly into the crook of his neck, letting out a soft and crackly chuckle, his arms come up and wrap around you.

You look up from your spot in his neck and he smiles. You gently peck his lips and pull away.

"we've gotta order something doe eyes, I don't know if they'd appreciate us coming in here just to kiss and make up."

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

- you two date casually starting from then, most people don't know you're in a relationship for about 4 months until you finally feel comfortable being out with him.

- homophobia is still pretty strong around this time but you and Evan have a conversation about what to do in situations like that (shooting them execution style is not a solution he is ok with, you've learned.)

- you both go pretty hard in the arts, he's more of a photography guy though, you spend time watching him from the porch as he marches around the tree line for stuff to picture, and sketching him when you think hes not looking.

- you have a small studio that you share with him from time to time, he mostly uses it to print digital photos because you have a fancy printer ✊😔. (You're only like 98% sure it's not the reason he's dating you)

- you 🤝 Ev = being wildly unprepared for habit

- you and habit are... On neutral terms. He's somehow gained a small amount of respect for you so he leaves you alone. You're more there to support Evan, while occasionally handling habit like a spider in a pacifist household (putting him outside. In the woods.) and evan eventually comes back fine, so you're not too worried.

- there's been a few times where you've found a deer carcass or two but. Yeah you can handle that.

- you think everything's ok? Evan seems at least content and you are perfectly happy.

-you and Evan do get married at some point, it's a low-key ceremony and reception, it would've been an elopement if you had any say, but Evan wanted the experience and honestly it was kind of nice.

- you full force throw a slice of cake in his face though, that was what you two wanted. (You break his nose but it's fine y'all laugh it off)

[galaxythreads]

17.?

17. What highly specific AU do you want to read or write even though you might be the only person to appreciate it?

Tw for child abuse

When Loki is a teen like 14/15, Laufey is called in for a peace conference that SOMEHOW ended up happening, not entirely sure. Over the course of this, Laufey learns that Loki is his son and is none to happy. Because as he recalls, his late wife had been hiding with their newborn son in the temple for protection, ergo: Fárbauti was almost certainly murdered and Loki kidnapped.

During the course of the conference, Laufey notices that Loki is clearly being abused by Odin and neglected by Frigga despite her best efforts (she is very busy) and Thor is no better off, but less obvious about it. The incident with Sif's hair happens and Loki gets his lips sewn shut in front of the peace conference and Laufey has just sort of had it. He then gets up and starts shouting about how Loki has been kidnapped and Odin is a horrible person, etc, etc just the beat down he deserved but never got. Odin is taken into custody and Frigga is declared regent.

Laufey takes custody of Loki and does NOT return to Jotunheim, instead the peace conference (or maybe a conference about what to do regarding Thanos?? Idk. Either peace conference or they're prepping for a fight) keeps Laufey in Asgard. Asgard is very unhappy about this, despite the fact that they sort of hate Loki, and Loki is horrified and struggling to come to terms with everything, but Laufey is a decent parent and actually helps him.

Cue lots of Laufey and Loki bonding broken by Asgard being butts but LEARNING TO BE BETTER and Laufey co-parenting Thor.

The story ends when the threat is eliminated or the conference is over. Thor and Loki are still friends and siblings at the end of this. It is extremely important to me that Loki does not abandon his brother for his new family because that always happens in Jotunheim fics and I hate it.

+Laufey being able to grow/shrink with magic because I personally find the hassle of dealing with a giant vs tiny small vulnerable child kinda frustrating. Loki needs a proper hug. ergo: grow/shrink magic.

+Thor getting hit by Odin for something pretty menial and Laufey temporarily considering adopting him, too (I just need thor to have a good father, okay? please.)

+Laufey not having his other kids on Asgard, so he can focus his entire attention on Loki

+Heimdall being some weird uncle-ish figure

+Loki's heritage being like on the bottom of the list of things they need to deal with, the longstanding emotional abuse/manipulation being the priority.

+Asgard throwing a brick through the window of where Laufey and Loki are staying early on with a threat and Loki freaking out about it.

+Oh! this one would actually be really fun to play around with the idea that Loki and Thor were raised as twins

Idk. I just really like the fics where abused child gets adopted by a competent adult and they work on things together, but it would be like. Loki's actual dad. +Thor gets a bonus dad. (please let him have a hug too*) It's a win for everyone.

I do not want to write this because it sounds extensive and exhausting. I would love to read it. I would sell my soul to read this, but I could not drag this highly detailed AU out of my brain under gun threat. I have thought about this extensively for probably three years, but as you can see. I have not written anything. Idk. Maybe someday I can wrestle something out.

that said, if anyone feels the desire to write this out, feel free. And please let me know because I will LITERALLY BETA THIS AND READ THIS AND COMMENT AND PLEASE.

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*i have read fics where Loki gets rescued from the abusive environment, but not any where the competent adults realize Loki and Thor need to be pulled from Odin's custody. Thor is nto okay. thor is not okay. Thor is not okay. thor is not okay