#dimple literally says its taking my all just to exist

[candyskiez]

I'm not a super big ekurei shipper but I have to admit the fact that Dimple can possess Reigen while he's unconscious and yet Reigen will be fully present anyway is Very compelling regardless of your explanation for it. Dimple was very specifically trying to wake Reigen up and used most of his power to do so? Hell yes, love it. Reigen being very atune to spirits because of. Well. The past four years. And going WHAT THE FUCK and waking right back up only to immediately go "oh. It's just dimple." Fascinating scene idea. Looking directly at it. So much potential for a fascinating missing scene there. Ekurei is growing on me at alarming rates. Help.

[poppy-metal]

"The first time you hear Izuku moan your name, its with you hiding on the other side of his closet door, your hand clapped over your mouth in shock.”

A/N: im placing this before the sexual side of their relationship begins. A prelude of sorts, if you will.

Cw: voyeurism, smut, dekus secretly dirty mouth.

All things considered izuku’s room was...not as gross as you expected a staple college aged guys dorm room to be. It was cluttered but not disgusting, posters of comics and figurines and manga and some clothes strewn about, everything kind of frenzied and haphazard. It was so incredibly deku, a secret smile pulled at your lips, even though your reasons for being here were less than innocent

He’s wearing fucking pink. Because of course he is, of course izuku is humble and comfortable in his masculinity enough to pull off a bright pink t-shirt. It hugs his chest too, and you have to wonder if literally any of his clothes fit him and the tits he decided to grow in college. His image is so utterly imposing, his smile so bright, and laugh so airy, it sends butterflies flipping through your stomach at just the sight of him and that makes you want to vomit. Your lips curl in a sneer and you’re walking towards him and the group of friends he’s talking to as if on reflex. 

Stupid, lovely deku. You knock your shoulder into his as you pass, hard enough that his books clatter and fall to the floor, scattering. And then those green eyes are on you, giving you his attention and your body feels alive, your blood cells buzzing under your skin even as he frowns. The dimples on his freckled face fall as he takes you in. Yes, you think, look at me, see me, want me. 

Out loud you say. “Watch where you’re going, stupid deku” and you’re looking at him like he’s the dirt under your shoe. He’s not. He’s the center of your universe. Your world tilts around his axis. “Pink isn’t your fucking color by the way”. it is. 

Izuku huffs. He’s past the point where he used to turn as red as a tomato and duck his head whenever you stood in front of him, but he’s still deku at the end of the day. An easy target. “If looking at me bothers you so much you could just ignore me.” He crouches down to pick up his things. His words make you itch, if you could ignore him, you wouldn’t fucking be here. Its because he exists too much, that you want to push him down so much. 

You step your manicured foot onto his notebook right as he’s about to grab it. He tugs at it, you dont budge, and he looks up at you, exasperated. “Can i have my notebook, please?” 

Why is he so fucking pretty? God, you want to throw up. You dig your heel in further, covering the flutter you feel in your chest with a practiced sneer. “I like the way you say please, deku.” You lean down a little, “Say ‘your highness’ and i’ll move” 

It’s a thrill, seeing the way his jaw sets, his brow furrows, his eyes go annoyed. Sweet, sweet, friendly izuku. You’re the only one he looks at like this, like he wants to throttle you. But he won’t. You see his adams apple bob, his cheeks dust pink, even as he glares. “No” 

You pause. It’s not the first time he’s gotten snippy with you, but the conviction behind it is new. You feel something in your stomach give a jump, your blood thrumming in your ears. You jerk your foot towards you, sliding his notebook out from his hands and standing completely on top of it with both your feet now. Your sticky lips, glossy and plump, spread into a mocking grin, “No? Do i need to slam you into some lockers and take you lunch money?” You feel a thousand feet tall, towering above him still kneeling, you on the high ground, looking down at him below you, where he can’t reach you. Can’t ever see the truth. “C’mon pansy, you’re already on your knees anyway” 

But he isn’t anymore. He jerks to a stand, and now he’s taller than you, but you puff your chest out, not letting that affect you. It always affects you. Not that he knows or ever notices. Your eyes are widening when he steps forward so you’re practically nose to nose and chest to chest. “I don’t have time for you” he snaps, irritated. And then he’s stepping away as suddenly as he stepped up, the rest of his things gathered in his arms, he shakes his head at you, a tendril of that mossy mousey hair falling into his eyes. “I gotta get to class” 

And then he’s gone, brushing by you, disengaging. You stand there, your breath stuck in your chest, not moving. ‘I dont have time for you’ over and over again rings through your head like a mantra. You step off his notebook robotically and kick it across the floor. It bangs against a wall and you feel your fists clench, nail beds digging into your palms harshly. ‘I dont have time for you’ 

You turn on your heel, away from the direction of your class, fury blinding you. Anger in place of humiliation, vindication in place of being humbled. You don’t know what crawled up his ass and made him think he was above you all the sudden, but you weren’t having it, not the fuck at all. 

And that’s how you found yourself snooping through izukus dorm, with the intention of finding some kind of dirt, or something to hold over his stupid head. He didn’t have time for you? How dare he act like he was better than you, like he had things more important to do than to indulge you. You were still so mad you wanted to throw a tantrum, kick and scream and claw his eyes out. Straddle his stupid broad waist and shake him until all he saw was you, you, you. 

You really hated him. Hated that because of him you were basically a bully because any attention from him was attention you thrived and lived under. Maybe if you weren’t so prideful, so disgusted by the weakness of your own gooey emotions for him, you would have tried to be the center of his attention in a nicer way, but as it was you were in too deep. This was the sick game you played, and losing wasn’t an option. 

You hated how much that made you similar to bakugou in a way. You didn’t like that guy, and even weirdly so, you wanted to gouge his fucking eyes out for the way he treated and talked to izuku. Was it jealousy or possesivness that drove you to want to be the only one who could rile izuku? You wondered, sometimes, if bakugou felt the same way about you. 

It was the loss of control, for you. Better yet, it was the way you liked the loss of that control. You had always prided yourself on being strong willed and a perfectionist. But whenever your eyes so much as grazed izukus, all your emotions went rattling around your stomach in sick twisted ways, giving you goosebumps, making you...nervous. It was a crush that had turned into an obsession, wasn’t it? And you wanted to make izuku suffer not only for invoking those messy feelings, but for not seeming to return them as well. If he couldn’t love you or want you romantically or sexually, you’d force yourself onto his radar and into his head until thinking about anyone else was impossible. Until you squirmed under his skin as much as he squirmed under yours. 

Acting like you didnt exist was unacceptable. Obviously you’d slacked off on your taunts and actions, if he could just brush past you so easily, not taking your bait. You needed to even the playing field again, and by even you meant you needed to be towering above him again. 

Towering over him so you dont have the time to think about how much you want to be under him, your mind whispers at you as you pick through his room, trying to find anything incripting. Someone like izuku would probably have something utterly embarrassing like a diary or some weird porn magazines, shameless, helpless guy that he was. 

You huff as you open his drawer next to his bedside, nearly slamming it back shut in shock at what you see there. 

You’re not stupid. You’re a healthy, young woman with an active sexual imagination and access to the world wide web, to porn. 

Izuku has a fleshlight in his drawer. Izuku has a sexytoy. Izuku. And its green. 

Izuku has a sex toy that he probably uses. That he probably sticks his cock into and moves- 

An absurd laugh barks out of you, shocked and helpless. Because while in your head you knew izuku had to be some kind pervert, what other explanation was there for the way he blushed and darted his gaze around like a ping pong ball whenever you leaned forward and get caught a glimpse under your blouse, this is...unexpected. Imagining izuku in explicit scenarios, doing lewd things, it was something you didn’t allow your mind to wonder to often over. You didn’t like the way you got all squirmy and meek whenever you thought too long about izuku without clothes. 

You feel kind of squirmy now, hot and uncomfortable as you shift around and try to gather your wits back about you. Revenge, that’s what you’re here for. 

With a shaky exhale you turn away from his dresser, your thoughts flitting around your head like annoying gnats. What, who, does he think about when he…? What does he look like? What does his...c- You shake your head, slap your cheeks, trying to center yourself from the images floating around, flustering you and distracting you. 

You’re in the middle of lifting the covers on his bed to peek under it, see if there’s anything there, when you hear the handle on his door jiggle. You freeze, every muscle in your body locked frozen like a deer in headlights as the knob twists, and then catches. Right. You’d picked the lock with one of your hair clips and then made sure to lock it again behind you just in case something like this happened. And by the, “Ugh” on the other side of the door, yep that’s definitely izuku. You’re shoved out of your shocked state, and bolting for his closet door as you hear the jingle of his keys twist in the lock, trying your best to close the door as quietly as possible behind you, it swishing shut barely a second before the door to his dorm opens and you hear him step in. 

Class must have let out early or something, you think huffily, gently rearranging yourself into a comfortable position on a pile of his clothes as he shuffles around his room. You hear the thumb of him dropping his books, the shuffle of his feet, the clutter of him taking off his shoes and the squeak of his mattress as he plops down on it. 

You tuck your knees to your chest and roll your eyes, picking at your leggings as you wonder how long you’ll have to hide before he goes to the bathroom or something so you can leave. It’s fucking stuffy in his closet already, the air hot. Your hand touches the soft fabric beneath you, realizing you’re sitting on one of his hoodies. Its too dark to see which one it is, but you imagine it as your favorite red one. Maybe you’d steal it as compensation for him making you sit and wait in his dumb closet while he probably stared at the ceiling with no thoughts in his dumb brain.

You hear him sigh, loud and dramatic, and then a muffled scream/groan into his pillow. Your lips twitch, he’s such a fucking drama queen. 

Your little smile drops off your face when you hear the sound of his drawer opening.  

Oh god. Oh no. 

Your face feels like there are embers burning under it as you hear the unmistakable sound of clothes being shucked, a zipper and and then flop, and then….a slick wet sound and a sigh of relief. 

Your eyes feel like they are bugging out of your head. Izuku is really about to fuck his fleshlight with you hiding in his closet with him none the wiser. You feel suddenly embarrassed and hot all over, hiding your face in your knees as you hear him let out a moan. A loud one. 

You’re on fire, every part of you. You don’t think you can take this, don’t think you can sit through this and listen to this, think you should just burst out of his closet and use your bravado to somehow flip the situation and make him feel humiliated for getting off in the privacy of his own room, like he’s in the wrong even though you had violated so many boundaries for even being here right now. 

You could do it too, you know. You’re good at twisting things, at powering through the complicated mess of flustered feelings izuku makes you feel and making it his fault, making him back down and cower. You could do it...you’re uncurling your legs and pushing your hands under you in the middle of getting up to do so when- 

“Fuck. ___” Your name. You freeze, for an unholy, goldy second you think you’ve been caught, that he has acquired x-ray vision and has spotted you but no. His voice isn’t surprised or upset its...breathless, airy. He moaned it. 

The first time you hear Izuku moan your name, its with you hiding on the other side of his closet door, your hand clapped over your mouth in shock.

Heat immediately shoots between your legs, your core throbbing unbidden in reflex to the sound, helpless to stop it, to have any other reaction. Your ass plops right back down. You turn slightly towards the door, pressing your side against it, your ear smooshed against the cool wood as you listen, as if drawn under a spell. 

“You’re such…” You hear izuku pant, his voice deeper and more rough then you’ve ever heard it before. “A fucking brat” 

Wet between your legs, seeping through your panties at his words, seemingly ripped out of him. God, he sounds pissed, wrecked. He cursed. You’ve never heard izuku curse before, never, even when you’d pushed him too far. Something really was different about today. 

The slick sounds are more frequent now, steady and...and sounding like real sex you’d heard from porn before. Wet, sloppy, and slapping. Your knees knock together as you lean forward even more. There’s an invisible string pulling, tugging you forward, you want to see…

“Fucking slut” He grunts, and there’s a heavy slap, your breath catching in your fucking throat as you realize that...that must be the clap of his balls hitting the back of his fleshlight everytime he thrusts into it. “Always running your fucking mouth, looking down at me, so mean, you’re so fucking mean to me…uh..” 

The sounds of sex fill the room and you can’t take it anymore, you’re burning, burning, burning, fuck the consequnces. You hesitantly and slowly turn the handle of the closet door, letting it slide open just a crack, enough for you to peek through, to get a glimpse.

His lean muscular back is the first thing you see, he’s facing directly away from his closet, thank god but oh god, that means you see..so much. The flex of his shoulder blades under his tan skin, the smattering of freckles over his shoulder, the long slender slope of his spine as it curves down his broad back, the dimbles at the bottom of his spine, flexing as he fucks his toy. His ass, because of course izuku would have a perfect round bubble butt. There are freckles there too. 

Your eyes skate down, hungry to his large and heavy balls, low hanging and full, currently smacked right up against the base of the little pocket pussy he’s practically straddling on his bed. 

It hits you again than, that deku is imagining that toy is you, he’s imagining fucking you in this position on his bed right now, imagining its your cunt hes pounding into, and your face he’s spitting those filthy words at. 

Your hand is really moving without your permission when it slips under the band of your leggings into your panties, fingers immediately dipping between the slick folds of your pussy, silky and wet. 

“-Wet” Izuku grunts, as you dip a finger just barely inside. “Fuck, i knew you’d be so fucking soft and good inside. Such a bratty girl would have a sweet cunt attached to her, huh?” 

Fuck, where and when did izuku start speaking like this? His soft voice curling around such crude words is making you gush all over your fingers. You wish you could see the kind of face he was making when he said them. 

“Yeah, you like taking my cock don’t you, baby?” He croons and if you close your eyes you can almost imagine he’s speaking directly into your ear, behind you. His thrusts get heavier, rougher, he lifts his leg up on the bed and you see a flash of the little green toy being fucked on his cock, big and angry looking. He’s being so brutal, hammering the thing down on his dick as he hips rut to meet every downward tug. “Milk it. Milk my fucking cock you whore. Wanna- fuck, wanna hear you say my name when you cum, want you to know who’s pouding that little pussy. The loser you fucking hate, yeah? Gonna cum for me?”

Yes, you whimper in your head in answer to him, your fingers curling deep, deep, inside, fucking yourself on them in earnest. He’s so big and you only caught a glimpse, but it was enough. Enough to know he’d fucking cleave you apart if he tried to fit that monster between his legs inside your tight little pussy. But you want it, god you fucking want it. You wanna feel him splitting you open, making you cream around him, making you beg for it. Making you bleed. 

“One of these day” he says, his voice breathless but steady, even as it cracks. You know he’s close. “I’m gonna fucking snap. Im going to make you look me in the fucking eye and apologize for making me want you, and then im going to split that pussy open- fuck, im coming, fuck, fuck, fuck. Do you understand, b-bitch? Gonna fucking make you mine, yeah, take it, take your senpais cock you dirty fucking girl, ah!” 

He slumps forward, hips humping into the toy and balls spasming as he pumps it full of his cum, shuddering deeply with little aborted whimpers. “Good girl, good girl” he pants, trailing off, giving one last little jerk of his hips before stilling. 

You bite your lip so hard you draw blood to stop yourself from whimpering out loud. You pull your sticky fingers out of your cunt and shuffle back into the dark of the closet, curling in on yourself as izuku lays there, panting heavily for a few moments before moving. 

You stay stock still as you hear him get up and shuffle around, his footsteps padding into the bathroom where you hear the door click softly shut. You spring up to your feet and don’t care if you make noise as you dart out of his room and into the hallway, sprinting like a bat out of hell as you make you way to the girls dorms.

You’ll think about how to reevaluate and recoup later. Right now you just really need to get to your bed so you can rut pathetically onto your own fingers and imagine izukus fat dick breaking you open. Never in a million years did you think he had those kinds of feelings for you, and you know it changes the whole game, is a whole other level of playing field where you now know he wants you on a physical level. 

You feel powerless and lie you’re slipping again, don’t know how you’re going to point your finger at him and laugh when you know for every insult you throw his way, is another way hes fucking his toy at night, adding it as another thing to get you back for. If he ever snaps. 

If. you want it to be a when, so bad, not an if. 

You’ll make it a when. You’ll push him off the metaphorical cliff he’s teetering on to make it so. 

. 

[peachyysugaa]

troublemaker

― dancer youtubers!lee heeseung x gn!dance major!reader

sparks fly when the top two dancers on youtube collab!

genre: slow-burn fluff, s2l

wc: 3.9k (omg i'm sorry) + 2 twitter pics

warnings: probably some wrong dance terminology, slightly suggestive (the dance is just 😳), short timeskip, it's cheesy please bear with me

part of my youtuber enhypen series, the fifth upload! feel free to read on its own~ ♞──────────────────────────♞

you finish off your last move with your arms wide open, your chest heaving up and down from lack of breath. smiling nevertheless, you know you absolutely love the feeling of getting your breath taken away after dancing because you know it meant you did your best. you walk towards the camera lens and peek at the comments through your open laptop.

"did you all enjoy that?" you ask breathlessly grinning. the flooding comments are filled with compliments from your cover of nct u's boss. however, one comment, in particular, caught your eye as others seemed to reply to it.

heeseung ✔ 2s ago wow that was amazing do you wanna do a collab sometime? 😊

line break insurance you've failed me 5x already

your eyes widen as you let out a gasp. "is that the lee heeseung?" you accidentally say out loud. you wince at the realization of your mistake. the comments are both praising you for your success in getting noticed by the other top dancer on youtuber and relating to your remark.

heeseung ✔ 3s ago haha yes it's me dm me if you want to hear more about it 🤍

"oh wow... this is really cool..." you state before blinking to get you out of your stupor. "well everyone, that's going to be all for y/n's motion of dance today! thank you so much for tuning in, love you!"

you wave goodbye for a few more moments and then shut off the broadcast, closing your laptop as soon as you do. you blink twice and suddenly let out a scream.

you stop with a gasp and cover your mouth with your hands because you cannot believe you forgot that your dance studio isn't the most soundproof of places. "sorry, other dance students..." you whisper to them but more for yourself.

taking a look around your escape, your passion, you can't believe you've made it to where you are, being praised as one of the top dancers on such a vast social media platform like youtube. if anything, you guess it runs in your family, after all, you are related to choi yeonjun, who is considered 4th gen's it boy.

though people were skeptical of you at first when you came on the youtube scene as a dancer after your older brother started taking more to modeling and acting, you quickly proved them wrong by showing them your talent and bloomed from then on. of course, you can't forget to mention the person who skyrocketed just around the same time as you.

and that was the aforementioned lee heeseung. you sigh as you finish packing up your clothes and things to head back to your dorm, glancing out the window to see the sun beginning to set. it seems today was a rare early finish for you.

"i could go for a coffee... i need to finish my classics essay anyway," you mumble to yourself, throwing your bag over your shoulder before hitting the showers and changing into a more casual set of clothes. the finishing touch is a baseball cap that sits snug on your head. tightening the strap on the back and grabbing your backpack and dance bag, you finally take your leave of your beloved dance studio and return the key on the way out. fresh air meets your face, allowing you to take a whiff of the cherry blossoms that have been blooming for a month or so as you make your way to the campus café.

ding ding, the coffee shop's calm doorbell welcomes you as your nose is hit by the sweet smells of freshly ground coffee beans. "welcome!" one of the servers calls at the counter, smiling at your figure that walks closer to order. "what can i get you?"

"hi, may i have..." you scan the menu quickly for a familiar drink. "a honey cinnamon iced latte please?"

"of course, name please?"

"choi y/n," you reply.

if they recognize you, they don't make any notion of it, simply scribbling your name on the plastic cup as you make your payment. you're grateful for the normal interaction and the peacefulness of the café, especially after a surprising stream. "i'll call you when your order's ready, choi y/n-ssi," they inform you with a warm grin.

"thank you," you smile back before going to find a seat. spotting a relatively private area close by with only a pair of boys sitting at the booth, you decide to take the booth two spaces away from them. one boy, you notice, sits taller than the other, but his face is covered by a baseball cap. the other looks like a freshman, his cheeks accentuated by a pair of deep dimples.

as you take your seat, you can't help but think the boy with dimples looks rather familiar but can't seem to place your finger on it. shrugging, you simply begin preparing to write your essay by taking out your laptop and notes from your classics ge. the moment you finish is when you hear your name being called.

"choi y/n-ssi, your honey cinnamon iced latte," the server's voice calls. on your way to receive your awaiting drink, you can finally hear the voices of the two boys sitting two booths down from you.

"did your crush just say choi y/n?" the one with the hat says.

'yes, that's me,' you think to yourself nonchalantly.

"weren't you just watching their stream, heeseung hyung?" another voice says as you pick up your latte and thank the server.

wait, heeseung? as in lee heeseung? it's when you turn around with your drink in hand that you notice the two males looking straight at you. now you're able to make out the features of the boy with the cap, and there's no mistaking it.

"lee heeseung?" you mutter out loud at the same time he speaks out yours.

well, maybe that wasn't what you were expecting today, but hey, life is full of surprises, even if they are one after the other for you. after that unexpected encounter, you and heeseung acquainted yourselves, he invited you to sit with them, and now you're sitting at their table, awkwardly sipping on your latte.

"right, so should i leave?" the other boy, who you found out is studytuber and vlogger yang jungwon (which is why he looked familiar to you), blurts out. you chuckle as heeseung shakes his shoulder lightly. "what? you two clearly have to talk about something, i need to study."

"yea, yea, lover boy. make sure you say bye to your crush on the way out," the male dancer teases, causing the younger one to turn bright red.

"don't call me that, hyung," he mutters before picking up his bag and leaving the booth. sure enough, you watch as jungwon passes by the counter and erupts into a nervous mess the moment the server beams at him.

"ah... so he likes them?" you think out loud.

"yup, it's been almost four months now. i'm the reason he even knows this cafe and that server exists," heeseung mentions, making you nod courteously. he turns his attention back to you with his hand placed under his chin. "but their relationship is besides the point. let's talk about us."

"d-did you have to put it that way?" the forwardness catches you off-guard, and you suddenly have a harder time swallowing a sip of your coffee.

"sorry," he says with a teasing smile. "i just think the collab i mentioned would be good for both of us, and it'll be really fun too."

"i agree, people who like you will come to me and vice versa," you nod. "but do you know what we would be dancing to?"

"so does that mean you're in?" he asks, smile starting to grow on his face. wordlessly, you roll your eyes and hold out your hand for him to shake. that's when his full smile comes out, causing your cheeks to heat up as you think about how much more handsome it makes him look. taking your hand, heeseung shakes it with his vigorously. "alright, dance partner, we have a deal."

after much deliberation and research, the two of you finally agree on troublemaker by the duo hyuna and hyunseung. heeseung suggested this song, stating that he always wanted to do the choreo with somebody and that it's destiny that both males have a name that starts with h and ends with seung. quite frankly, it's not like you could find much anyway, besides some cool music bank mc stages, it is cool that troublemaker was originally an opposite-gender duo in the korean entertainment industry.

the choreography however is an entirely different story. at many points, hyuna's body is touched by hyunseung and vice versa, but if they can do it and stay professional, then you believe you can too. besides, dancing will always be just dancing. heeseung also assures you that if you want, the two of you can just have your hands hovering, which makes you feel relieved to have an understanding partner.

hours pass by, and you and heeseung decide to meet at your usual dance studio daily after all your classes, which wasn't hard because he also frequented the same one.

"i still can't believe we attend the same university," you say aloud as the both of you pack up your laptops and supplies.

"i know right, you would think one of us would recognize the dance studio we go to 24/7, right?" he laughs. "although, i've seen you use a different one sometimes."

"do you really watch my covers and streams often?" you ask baffled. he and you wave the workers goodbye and make your way to the brisk evening air waiting outside as the staff sends you off.

"i do, is that so hard to believe?"

"a little," you reply sheepishly.

"well, let me walk you to your dorm and prove to you how much of a choi y/n stan i am," he boasts, and you let yourself laugh freely as you walk beside him to your destination.

it's strange, knowing a famous youtuber you watched also knew and followed you, but then again, you're not exactly nobody either. when heeseung drops you off, he admits that he actually lives a few floors above you and that you two can walk home together after each rehearsal. it's even stranger, knowing a famous youtuber literally has been on your campus, in the same dorm building as you, and this whole time, the two of you have both been clueless as to the other's existence as an ordinary college student.

speaking of which, he can't be a dance major, right? otherwise, you would've already seen him! these thoughts keep you tossing and turning to the point you don't register when you fell asleep. when you wake up, you feel as if you didn't get any sleep at all, but get up and ready nevertheless, going through another regular day as a dance major.

by the time your classes are over, you walk out of the studio yawning about to stop by your dorm to freshen up and maybe fit in a nap. you're holding a hand over your mouth mid-yawn when a voice starts talking to you.

"good thing i stopped by to get coffee." you open your eyes and close your mouth to see lee heeseung holding two cups of coffee. he's dressed in an oversized white shirt and grey sweatpants, a common dance practice outfit, so why is your heart skipping so many beats. "yo, choi y/n."

"heeseung," you say, still shocked. he hands you the coffee, which is actually the same flavor you got yesterday. "thanks."

"no problem," he replies coolly. "maybe we should take a break before we get to it?"

"i'll be fine, how about we can start watching the choreo?"

"they're always ready to dance," he nods with an impressed smile. "as expected of a dance major."

the two of you walk inside and book a studio for a few hours as you raise an eyebrow at him. "wait, what major are you?"

"music production."

"that makes so much sense!" you say relieved, stepping into the studio room for the umpteenth time. "i was racking my brains wondering what major you were."

"so the famous choi y/n is curious about me?" he smirks. you groan and facepalm in response. "i'm kidding, i'm kidding. let's watch the video on my tablet?"

nodding, the two of you watch carefully, eyes glued to the screen at your respective roles. you hold your breath at some touchy parts but also notice that both idols were able to shine in their solos.

"a few tweaks here and there, and it'll be perfect," heeseung comments once the video is over. "but let's go over some boundaries, yeah? let me know what you're comfortable with and what you're not."

"right," you agree, once again relieved to have such a safe and understanding partner like him. "well, i think i'm okay with you touching my arms, shoulders, and hips like hyunseung did to hyuna. i just need some time to get used to it."

"alright, that sounds good," he says nodding with a hand under his chin. "then for today, i'll just hover my hands over the places they need to be."

"what a gentleman," you tease.

he rolls his eyes playfully at you. "let's start marking."

and so that's what the two of you start on. with the video on the tablet, you go through the motions with the speed lowered, eventually picking up more moves until you're able to follow at the normal speed. as expected of the top two dancers on youtube, the two of you are quick on observing and learning the dance and get done with basic marking within 20 minutes or so.

after marking, you take a quick water break to watch the video again in full detail, officially beginning your first real practice. as promised, throughout the entirety of marking, heeseung has kept his hands to himself, but you've become comfortable enough to have him do a little more.

before you start practicing for real, you decide to speak with him. "hee," you call him as he puts down his water bottle.

"hm?" he confirms that you have his attention, looking up with his large doe-like eyes while wiping his mouth off from some excess water.

"uhm.." you fidget with your top a little before mustering up some courage. "you can do light touches now for the choreo."

"really? are you sure?" you nod at his question, causing him to come up to you and ruffle your hair lightly. you bat his hands away with a pout, smoothing out the mess he made as he laughs at you. "that's great, y/n," he says with a bright smile, unknowingly making your heart beat a little faster as you nod again. in your head, you rush to cover up the physical reaction with an excuse that it's just from the amount of exercise you've done.

the two of you stand in front of the mirror, ready to go. before the music starts, heeseung turns to you and says, "just let me know if i make you uncomfortable at all."

"i'll be fine," you reassure him with a small smile. that's when the song begins, and the sparks start to fly. every move flowed like water, yet every touch between the two of you was like electricity as if the two elements were working together instead of fighting. even though the touches are light, they still put chills up your spine, in a way that you can only describe with the phrase "meant to happen."

was fate moving its course to put this match together, or were you imagining it? you're not sure, but you grin while catching your breath once the first practice is over. falling to the floor softly, you sit with your hands splayed behind you and let out a relieved sigh. "ahh... dancing is so... great!"

heeseung chuckles at your reaction and offers a hand to get you up. "i'm glad you think that because we got a lot more practice ahead of us, partner."

"yup!" you say with a widening smile. the moment you took his hand, you felt an electric jolt that almost made you let go. getting up, you shake it off and barely catch the expression on your dance partner's face. "is something the matter?"

he blinks a bit before he's shaking his head with that charming smirk of his. "nope! let's practice!"

practice, practice, practice. that's how the next few hours go. and just like the day before, heeseung walks you to your dorm building, this time the conversation about how excited the two of you are for the recording.

that's basically how the next four or so days go, now that heeseung came into your life. your daily routine of wake up, eat, class, dance, repeat was shaken by him, because now he was a part of it. it's an indescribable feeling, hanging out with him. the best word, or phrase actually, is the same one you used while dancing with him: meant to be.

so when you finally get to the day of recording, you almost don't want it to end. at least, that's what you're telling your best friend and makeup artist, kim sunoo.

"friend, you're telling me that you and this guy have been following along to..." he tells you to look up as he curls your eyelashes. "a dance like that for four days and you've been getting shocks this whole time?"

"i mean, yeah?"

"y/n, i love you, but you're missing a little something, aren't you?"

"wha-!?"

"pucker up, sweetie, we're making your lips look kissable," sunoo commands. you do an eye-roll but do as he says. "if you don't ask him out or do something by the end of this, you can at least kiss your best shot at a boyfriend goodbye with luscious lips."

he finishes applying the color and asks you to rub your lips together and make that pop sound. "perfect," your best friend compliments. "go out there and get your mans."

"thank you, sunoo!" you say, gazing at your reflection in the mirror and loving the way he accentuated your features. "by the way, you're all talk. you should ask your celebrity crush out when they appear on your channel."

"i'll get there when i get there!" he whines and starts pushing you out of his dorm room. "just go get 'em, tiger."

with that, you make your way to the dance studio where heeseung is waiting for you, dressed in hyunseung's iconic suit with the leopard-patterned blazer. your heart quickens, seeing how much more handsome he looks dressed up, hair slicked back and some makeup done. he looks up upon hearing the door open and his mouth slightly hangs open as well.

the both of you are silent as you approach him, in your equally bedazzling outfit, sheer to mimic hyuna's stage dress. "you look amazing," the two of you say at the same time. stunned at the simultaneous sentence, you two immediately start guffawing at how this was unlike your usual interactions.

"that was so awkward!" you blurt out, unable to contain your laughter.

"yea, not like us at all," he admits while he wipes a stray tear from laughing too hard away. smiling at each other, you admire the way his eyes reflect your image and sparkle. "you ready to get this show on the road."

"ready as i'll ever be." the two of you get into your positions on the opposite ends of the room, and heeseung starts the camera and the music soon after. you take each step slowly to meet him in the middle as he takes your hand and brings it up to his lips to give it a kiss while smirking. you keep your face professional as the two of you take a few steps forward, the back of his fingers curled over the front of yours.

starting back-to-back, you walk forward a bit before the beat drops and heeseung's part begins. you're on autopilot as you dance your fingers from his chest to his shoulders, and then the chorus comes. hips swaying, you're able to feel his hands' light taps on your body as the two of you lose yourself to the music you've danced to hundreds of times this week.

then, it's your killing part as you lipsync hyuna's rap and take bold steps around heeseung's body, ending up behind him to bring your hands over his shoulders and make a scratching movement across his chest. you step towards his side, do your thing, and walk away as if playing hard to get.

you wait for his part during the bridge and make a side glance towards him before moving towards him and performing the hip-heavy part of the chorus together. your partner moves his face up along your arm, taking it in like you're a statue. you then act like you brush him away when heeseung gets close enough. after this second chorus, you're leaving him to do his big solo, watching carefully as he makes his every move precise and crisp yet flow well.

it's the last chorus now, and this time, you can't take your eyes off each other as you finally face one another. you stay drowning in his shades of brown without a single misstep until you have to walk away from him. you wait for him to come towards you, back slightly turned away as he jaunts forward, making his way to be captured by your hand behind his neck.

the last breath of the song is the one where you're supposed to turn your head away as his own chases yours, but this time, you brave forward and lean in close. the music fades away, but all you hear is his breathing, feeling it against your own.

you stay like this, ensnared in each other's arms, forgetting about everything except the person wrapped close to you as you feel his every breath against your lips and every inhale and exhale under your hand. he searches your eyes, looking for some kind of sign. "do you mind if i—"

that was all you needed before you're pressing your lips against his. it only takes seconds for him to kiss you back, moving his hands from their previous position on your hips to hold your face. becoming breathless from dancing was one thing, becoming breathless from kissing heeseung was another thing entirely, it was in a league of its own you note as you pull away and rest your forehead on his.

"we'll have to edit that out," you say after what seemed like ages of taking each other in while chuckling.

"i have a better idea than editing."

"oh, and what's that, handsome?"

"look at you getting all bold, troublemaker," heeseung replies with that smile of his. he shakes his head, moving away from you and taking your hand in his. "how about we go on our first official date as youtube's top dancer couple?"

"that does sound like a better idea," you agree, your own smile widening.

"then let's make it happen, sweetheart."

bonus! - click for full images

taglist: @cha-raena @imjustme-things @misoiishi @rikitaiyaki send an ask to join the taglist! :3c permanent taglist: @fiantomartell

a/n: wow this was a long one!! i'm not sure if i detailed all the movements well, but i hope you all enjoyed it nevertheless <3

[aerimomo-mellon]

Skz as Boyfriends!

Paring~ SKZ x Reader

Genre~ informative lol

A/N~ yep it was requested! Enjoy 친구 <3

warnings? none. (idk mention of bed related things haha)

SKZ M☁List II Main M☁List

시장……..

✿ Bangchan

We all know this guy and you all have read enough of him I think, to know what imma say. (But for special purposes why not..)

This guy is really really serious about relationships and you are probably the one because he just can’t help loving everything about you.

The fact that he is yours even with all the responsibilities and work he has as a leader and idol is a miracle itself. Therefore consider yourself LUCKY to have the most caring and loving man anyone could have.

Dates- He likes movies hence movie nights and date to the theater are often. If not then he likes taking you to a sports event or the beach cause yeah. ( that vibesssssss you know? )

PDA = 3/10 why?, because as mentioned earlier he is responsible for many important things and he doesn’t want to have any misunderstandings about you and dislikes hate in general. That 30% I gave him was because he would only do PDA if really needed.

In Bed things? Umm not often actually but once in a while yes WHILE he would like it I’m sorry I mean LOVE it..

Con? Yep time! Sorry girl but that time you need, it’s hard for him to fulfill every time.

Cute extra info- Doesn’t mention it but secretly likes when you poke his dimple and say he’s cute.

✿ Minho

There are these majority conceptions, as I said majority but not all cause there are stays who know that he is a sweet guy deep deep down.😉

If you’re his s/o he will give every bit of him to you and expects the same for you. I would categorize him as a boyfriend wo acts like a mom lol. It maybe hard to digest that information but trust me this feeling I have from my gut I can say that he is also very caring. Although he might not say things like I will be there whenever you need me or even I miss you, care for you, but he doesn't need to say this anyway. As action speak more than words our Minho is the same.

Dates- He likes to balance it between what you like and what he likes as well. If you are a new couple he straight up asks what you prefer. Plus point he likes to take you to cat café if you like cats too.

PDA = 0.5/10 why? honestly speaking this guy literally hates to express his feelings. That .5 is literally him agreeing that he is yours and that's it. (when someone asks that is)

In Bed things? I personally think it depends on his mood and not yours. Yup. Somedays he wants you a lot and somedays he likes his space. I'm not saying he hates cuddling but more than that on days he is either tired or stressed he likes to keep that little limit to what happens next.

Con? Attention... you would literally take his cats away from him to get his attention.

Cute extra info- likes it when you call him and yourself Appa and Eomma to his cats.

✿ Changbin

Changbin being the puff/ strong guy(sorry that sounded disturbed lol) We all know how babied he likes to be.

Him as a boyfriend is just very natural, I mean from the way he takes you on a fancy date to even putting nail polish on your left hands. Everything is very genuine and he loves it. The Boyfriend to always apologize first.

I find him as someone to take attraction and the next step which is relationship very seriously. ( the person to be very calculative, it can beat Chan honestly..)Knowing that he is afraid to hurt people in any kind of way, to hurt you even as an accident breaks his heart.

Dates- Our Dwaekki loves taking you on dates with loads of food or snacks. A typical Korean restaurant or even food stalls, he loves seeing you eat than to be broken when you might have some kind of sickness due to eating problems.

PDA = 5/10 why? Because he likes your opinion. He is okay with either if you insist on a particular one but slightly leans on less public knowing. Holding hands and probably hugging you wouldn't be a huge problem for him.

In Bed things? he loves it anytime honestly... if he is horney he is getting what he wants and when you are same goes to you.. you'll get what you want..

Cons? Too much aegyo which makes you do things you don’t necessarily want to. (Stay blessed)

Cute extra info- Praise him! (x100) loves it when you say things like " my boyfriend is so strong.." or even " those arms mmm..."

✿ Hyunjin

I mean do I need to say how into he is with this??? Damn this man is the most prepared man a girl could have. The type to know everything about relationships... from trending couple fashion to even special not important but cute couple events..( that he probably found randomly scrolling through google)

He knows your anniversary, birthday, your moms birthday, dads and basically your whole family knows him too. He also keeps track of your monthly cycle too cause he likes being responsible for you..

He is the type to get jealous very easily BUT wont admit it when you ask. Likes to braid your hair while learning from YouTube.. Likes to buy you so many colorful cute hair accessories. (loves your hair..)

Dates- we all know this guy is fancy so he likes fancy dates but he can also be the complete opposite.. Fancy~ maybe to a art restaurant or even on a fancy boat cause why not.. Normally though~ likes to take you to an art museum or at night to take you on the roof for star gazing..

PDA = 2/10 why? I've probably given hints on my fictions with Hyunjin about this in particular. He prefers keeping this in private and that 20% is with his members (barely)

In Bed things? This guy couldn’t be more romantic lol. Loves being prepared for this buys every thing you both need… and yeah loves it.

Cons? He buys Kammi more hair clips than you sorry….

Cute extra info- likes when you get mad when he cut his hair lol. I apologize to all the stays I know he is cute every time but that long hair just hits different….

✿ Jisung

The craziest boyfriend you could have and will only have. You would low key love your relationship with this man I’m telling ya…

You two would have so much fun like toddlers. He is honestly the cutest, funniest, talented etc.. man you get all in one.. ahaha..

Likes to buy you the most stupid things that actually works for a daily living..( that thing he bought to watch on his phone while laying down 😵)

likes to joke around and talk to you a lot.. gurll listen to him he loves it. He likes to value your problems as well so listens to you too.

Dates- likes to watch anime so you two usually have this anime night cuddle sessions but if he were to plan something outside he would prefer to take you to the amusement part lol.

PDA = 8/10 why? honestly he likes showing you off cause he is fond of you. Basically doesn't care what others think... his parents know you, members, friends outside the group, and stays know you exist lol.. 20% i kept for a reason because he doesn't like it when things get out of handle so he wont do anything to the extent..

In bed things? yes he likes it but that turns up into a tickle fight or even a complete cringe but cute moment..

Cons? He might be very sensitive leading to him being upset and you having to apologize...

Cute extra info- loves it when you kiss his cheeks or just play with them in general..

✿ Felix

I had to bring this up at some point lol.. stays probably know the video where he says his clothes are boyfriend material lol...and yes i agree hands down!

A boyfriend material in his own way ahaha.. i mean we all know he loves to be cared for and loved. That Bangchan! spoiled little youngbok.. i personally feel or think two ways. Either he likes being cared for by you or he takes care for you since now he gets to be the older one..

Felix likes speaking in English so if you know English he would speak both languages as well. Likes to give you blowjobs cause he fell in love with you lol..

Dates- Shopping malls, window shopping, UNO on a picnic lol all these are his favs and so are yours .. Personally speaking he likes to take you to places where he can take lots of pictures of you..

PDA = 4/10 why? I don't know haha yup its just a feeling where I'm in between of two opposite thoughts.. I fell like he shows you to his members and family but not more than that.. (Olivia is most likely to love you)

In bed things? Likes being pampered and loves it when you lead.. happens pretty often actually..

Cons? yes! he like being touchy and so do you but he does it too much which beats ya.. and jealous really easily! and he lets you know that..

cute extra info- compliment him on his freckles and he will blush literally a tomato 🍅..

✿ Seungmin

Sweet really sweet.. he is the typical Korean boyfriend you'll get haha even better than that.

He just likes to talk to you or even look at you all day and keep that puppy smile on him.. The type to sing you a song to sleep or whenever you ask him to. likes to hear you sing too.. attempts to make you laugh but ends up, giving up.

He likes kissing your eyes when they are closed.. or when you just fell asleep after the song likes to give your eyes quick pecks..

Dates- He likes walks and that's why you go on evening walks and return when it's dark.. likes holding your hands. He likes grocery shopping with you, takes you to the rooftop to talk about life and its shitty problems.. Basically effortless things that make your relationship happy for what it is.

PDA = 1/10 why? I mean do I need to tell you this? he is like Minho but just a little bit more obvious.. Prefers to express his love when you two are alone..(that's it)

In bed things? umm yes but no.. i mean he gives in to your begs but I feel like Seungmin is just too into cute cuddling and these things are only when he is very desperate ..

Cons? not much but maybe ignoring you when you ask if he can buy you ice Cream for the fifty-sixth time..(but gives in anyway)

Cute extra info- He likes when he sees you in his clothes.. but doesn't say it and acts like he doesn't..

✿ Jeongin

Baby, baby, Baby..... he is our baby boyyyy but his savage ass towards his Hyungs just breaks it all hahaha…

Jk he is actually really cute, caring, sweet and likes to be protective. It may not suit him but yes he likes scolding people if done wrong to you..

You might be older or younger honestly he doesn’t care.. he is very respectful to you either way. He loves you and is very shy too which you find cute.

Dates- Asks you for your opinion or his Hyungs. He still is very inexperienced so he doesn’t know but sometimes likes it when you two spend time on the swings of some random park with fruit juice 🧃..

PDA = 0/10 why? Cause no no no no not even to his members haha he is just too shy and likes to keep his relationship in its own boundaries.

In bed things? Nope please! I’m sorry stays but I just can’t with Jeongin… (no further details he is just so precious to me)

Cons? He understands very late.. like you trying to say you want to cuddle, kiss etc.. without words he won’t get it. Just fucking be straight forward with our baby.

Cute extra info- honestly everything is cute about him so I can’t fit it here sorry… stays use your imagination here…

끝…

[singtotheskiies]

fulfillment // five hargreeves x reader

summary: five’s completely taken with you, and for good reason—you’re the first softness to come into his life.

request (by two lovely lovely anons): Could you write a story about Five x reader and dimples? Reader has subtle dimples too but they don't realize it until a very smitten Five points it out and it's just fluff? And the Hargreeves siblings are just watching as Five and his best friend/crush are obviously in love but too shy to admit it? Thank you!

AND

if you’re taking requests can u write about the reader and five being in the friends to lovers trope and reader starts to overflow in awe of five and starts showering five with well-deserved and true and genuine compliments?

words: 704

warnings: none!! it is literally just fluff bros!!

a/n: god i’m yearning for human connection can u tell,,,, anyway here is an unedited lil blurb for ur reading pleasure!! as a person with lil dimples myself i can confirm that this hit different😞👊🏻 i changed the requests a bit but pls enjoy:))))))

✖️✖️✖️

There’s just something different when Five lays with you like this. The air in his lungs decides to take its time, and his eyelids seem to operate on a slower setting. Somehow, the intersection of your limbs sets him free.

And when you look up at him, all deep eyes and small smile and half-draped hair, he reaches for the present moment. Stay a little longer, he thinks. I know I’m always in a hurry, but just this once—

Your fingers are cool and light on his cheek, and he feels his eyes flutter shut without even thinking. A quiet sigh leaves his lips, and he never wants to move—if your hand is always brushing against his face and a giggle is always just leaving your lips, he’s right where he wants to be. There’s no way something more beautiful than this—than you—can exist.

Your voice, quiet with a hints of a giggle leaking in, causes him to open his eyes. “What’s got you so happy tonight, hmm?” you ask, smiling at him. How do you do that? he thinks. Your mouth only tilts up the smallest bit, but it still makes my stomach go all in knots.

He can’t speak for a moment—you’re filling his head to the brim; there’s no room for things like words. His eyes move down to where the corner of your mouth is quirking upward, and he blinks upon making a new discovery. “You’ve got a dimple right there,” he blurts. Years of learning to hold his tongue and do what he’s told are lost in an instant—all it took was one look at your cheek.

“Really?” you say, fingers leaving his face and moving to your own. “I never knew that! Does it look—weird?” Your brows draw together slightly, and Five just wants to kiss the tiny wrinkles away.

“God, no,” he breathes. “It’s—it’s beautiful.”

“Thanks,” you laugh, and he can’t take it anymore. He captures the small dent with his lips, murmuring so beautiful against it. He’s surprised to find your skin blushing and heated to the touch, and he chases the warmth with another kiss and another, making his way to your mouth. Your lips are so familiar to him, and yet they never get old, never lose their ability to short-circuit his brain.

When he draws back a bit, the dimple is still there and he wonders how he’s never noticed it before. He can’t look away from it now that he has, and the temptation to kiss it again is growing awfully strong.

“You have one too, y’know,” you tell him.

“Yeah, s’pose so,” he says, taking your hand. “Never thought much of it.”

“That’s one of the first things I noticed about you,” you continue, and he chuckles quietly at your admission.

“It wasn’t the blood all over my face?” he asks teasingly, remembering when you had first seen him across the street, covered in the remnants of a fight. You had instantly run over to him, asking if he was okay—always the caretaker.

“All the blood in the world couldn’t distract me from your pretty green eyes or your amazing hair or your cute freckles,” you say, kissing his cheek with a laugh. “Or the wonderful person inside. Guess I saw past all that.”

The words go directly to his heart. “And that’s why I love you,” he whispers. “None of it matters when I’m with you.”

A softening of eyes and a string of slow kisses later, his fingers find their way into your hair, scratching softly against your scalp. A hum makes its way unbidden from your throat, and he marvels at the softness in his hands and ears. “Feels nice,” you sigh, and rest your head against his chest.

It strikes him that he’s never once heard anyone tell him that something he’s done has made them feel good. And now that he’s heard it from your lips, he never wants to do anything else ever again. Why yell, why kill, why do anything else when he could be curled up with you? Maybe this is what his hands were meant to do—so he holds you close with newfound purpose.

And the quiet back-and-forth of his siblings, equally shocked and smitten from their spying place, is lost in the feeling of your skin against his.

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

you’re someone i just want around: I

“And I can't wait another minute

I can't take the look she's giving

Your body rocking, keep me up all night

One in a million, my lucky strike.”

— Lucky Strike, Maroon 5

A/N: this idea started as just random concept drabbling between leyla @sunflowervolvimp3​ and i and we never really thought it would amount to anything tbh!! but as we started putting more and more into the plot and characters, we made the spontaneous decision to make it a full on, multi-chaptered collab fic! we have so many ideas planned and so much to elaborate on and we’re just so mfing excited to share it with you guys :’) any and all feedback is greatly appreciated 💌 we hope you enjoy the first part and that you fall in love with this stupid emotionally unavailable moron the way we did! happy reading!!

andrea’s askbox : leyla’s askbox : ysijwa masterlist : andrea’s masterlist : leyla’s masterlist : 

word count: 17.2k

content/warnings: vampire!harry being a lowkey asshole while downing straight tequila like a psycho, getting to know The Crew, Mitch being the iconic legend he is, mentions of smut, and Harry working his immortal charm on an unsuspecting human girl with a peculiar scent and intriguing personality

///

Harry hates clubs. 

In his two hundred years of life, through many trials and tribulations, through tricky scenarios and annoying encounters, through thousands of unappealing circumstances and patience-testing events, he doesn’t think anything quite compares to the crowded, nerve-wracking experience that is a Los Angeles club on a Friday night during peak hours. 

According to his wise, humble opinion, it’s absolutely fucking petrifiying. He’d rather swallow a stake than have to spend hours in a dimly lit room with synthetic smoke choking his lungs, half-conscious humans stumbling around into him, and the stench of sweaty bodies mixed with liquor fumes, alongside the faint yet unmistakable waft of vomit. 

Yeah, Harry would definitely rather eat a red oak spear than have to shoulder that.

Despite his intense hatred for this Californian city during its after-hours, he can’t deny that he fits right into the scene perfectly. Decades of grooming and practice have made him a prime candidate for the fast-paced characteristics that come with the party nightlife. 

Fitting into these aspects aren’t something he had learned willingly; he didn’t really have a choice on the matter, considering his entire existence depends on mortals immature tendencies to get properly shit-faced and make stupid decisions in tightly-packed glorified bars. Harry never understood that— how a fog machine, strobe lights, and an undergrad amateur DJ could ever seem more appealing than the quiet, stable ambiance of a semi-formal bar. How deranged do people have to be to actually enjoy strangers spilling alcohol on them while attempting to shag someone else two feet away on the dance floor? 

Whenever he dwells too much on that thought, he gets a spiking migraine. After this long, Harry’s just come to terms with the fact that humans are regressing as a species. His conclusion is a bit cynical, perhaps, but hardly difficult to accept. One look at a news outlet provides enough proof to launch an Ivy League research project on the matter. 

He really shouldn’t be complaining, however, because the combination of overflowed close quarters and dampened inhibitions makes it the ideal hunting ground. Picking up a living blood bag at a club is basically as easy as walking through a vineyard and plucking grapes right off the stems. It’s practical, it’s fool-proof, and if he plays his cards right, he gets to feed and gets his more intimate needs tailored (a combo that he and his friends refer to as Laid and Drained).  

So regardless of his distaste towards clubs and their eager inhabitants, Harry had learned to mold his persona to fit the bill, making himself as approachable and desirable as possible. His life literally hangs in the balance; he’d put up with throngs of drunk sorority girls and their affinity for shitty perfumed drinks if it means avoiding desiccation. 

It’s not like it’s hard. All Harry has to do is make himself look more appealing than the other hundred men milling around the establishment, which— if he’s being brutally honest— isn’t that challenging. The moral, physical, and ethical standards of men have dropped frighteningly low since his time. Most of the ones that creep around clubs are overconfident, overzealous, boundary-lacking douchebags who think they’re entitled to a woman’s attention, and therefore make complete, utter fools of themselves in the process of trying to court one into their pants. Buying a girl one Sex On The Beach and dry-humping to Daft Punk isn’t the way to convince her to come home with you. 

Harry has developed his own guidelines and tactics for securing a nightly bedroom companion, and his ideas have been working wonders for him for decades now. 

The first and foremost rule is to clean up nicely. Personal appearance is everything. Humans are visual creatures; they build first impressions solely based on outward attraction. That trait is enhanced the higher their blood alcohol content rises. The drunker someone gets, the shallower they become, and it’s Harry’s job to work that to his advantage. And at the risk of sounding shallow himself, he thinks he does pretty alright in that department. 

Especially tonight, present in all the elements of his physique. He’s clad in a pair of high-waisted tan trousers that have been ironed to a crisp, his fitted graphic tee tucked neatly along his waistband beneath his black leather belt. His t-shirt is probably his favorite part of the entire look. It’s a baby blue sturdy cotton number with pastel yellow detailing along the cuffs and collar and a giant cartoon puppy in a striped bowtie taking up its center, smiling cheekily at the onlooker. Arranged around the doodle in faded Times New Roman bubble letters are the words WE’RE IN THE SHIT. 

Harry loves the irony of the article— the innocence of the drawing juxtaposed by the crude message. The piece is a conversation-starter— people almost always comment on it— and that’s exactly what he needs. Something to draw attention to himself and shadow all the other men. Something that shows he has a personality; that he has taste and a good sense of humor and isn’t just another walking genital. Plus, what person doesn’t enjoy a funny little contradiction, especially when it’s this cute?

On top of his graphic top, he’s wearing a tartan cropped blazer (open, of course) with a creme background and royal blue lines. The hem ends at the bottom of his ribs, exactly where his pants begin, and the jacket's hand-sewn buttons and strap detailings show that it's an expensive garment. It shows that he puts money and effort into how he looks, which is something anyone would appreciate when scoping for a possible hookup.

Harry’s shoes are the most casual factor of his fit. They’re a pair of light yellow Vans that match the collar of his tee. They’re plain, but he keeps them clean and they tie the whole look together without a hitch.

Accessories are everything, as well. Aside from the pearls arranged around his prominent collarbones, the gold-dipped cross hanging from a delicate chain around his neck, and the matching dangling cross earring on his right earlobe (again, he adores irony), he’s sporting a plethora of chunky rings on his hands, each unique and effortlessly complimenting his appearance. On his left hand, his index finger dots a ruby jewel embedded into a thick rusted band, another large metal one with dancing bears on his middle, and two clunky golden letters on his last two digits— his initials, HS. On his opposite hand, he has a medium-width plated ring on his middle finger with peace engraved along its rounded edge, an elegant lionhead number with an amethyst stone snug in its mouth, and along his pinky is a decently-sized opal set into a delicate polished frame. 

His two last rings are the most important of all. The lionhead is his daylight ring, which he hasn’t taken off since he transitioned. It keeps him from bursting into flames everytime the sun hits his skin. The opal was his mother’s, and it was her favorite. 

Harry’s attire is something he’s immensely proud of, even though a good amount of people deem him eccentric in the eyes of modern masculinity. He couldn’t give less of a shit. With his lightly tanned skin, alluring cologne and lacquered nails, his shirt stretching across the defined muscles of his chest and stomach, his broad shoulders and tapering waist, his thick thighs, sharp jaw, jade eyes, loosely tousled chestnut curls, and the vast array of dark ink littering his arms...

He looks good and he knows it. And all the people whose gazes glue to him as he passes by know it, too. Especially a random group of young women in line, who ogle at him shamelessly as he casually strolls past. He treats them to a sly wink, an irresistible dimpled smile, and a soft, cheeky greeting of, “Ladies.”

He gets off on the way they swoon at his refined English accent, giggling and waving. 

The only other component Harry has for succeeding in the club environment is simple, but it’s important: Don’t seduce, romanticize. 

Anyone— even inebriated idiots— can try and seduce a woman. And if she’s had enough tequila shots to cloud her thoughts, they just might succeed. But only a real man can romanticize a girl, and it yields way better results. 

Females are an emotional sect (Harry says that with zero misogyny; it’s just a scientific fact and he actually praises it), which means that if you entertain their interests and fluff their egos, they are bound to fall right into the palm of your hand. It changes the game completely because then they don’t feel that they have to pleasure you, they want to. They pursue the guy who flirts without being too vulgar, who appreciates and acknowledges their efforts, and who can go head-to-head with their wit by carrying unforced banter. They chase after him because he’s showing genuine kindness rather than just sexual interests and if he’s that attentive on the getting-to-know-you front, one can only imagine how skilled he could be in other bases. Chatting up a girl the right way, with patience and courtesy, builds credibility and prowess. And as a thank you, they’re usually more than willing to pay special attention to your needs, as well. 

Thus, romanticizing is always the expert move. So, yes, Harry detests clubs and the disaster that is adult recreation. But he’s fucking amazing at playing it to his favor. He’s great at calculating everything down to the smallest detail and he’s going to piggy-back on those skills for the rest of eternity. He’s so good at what he hates that his closest friends have anointed him the title of Walking Paradox. He’s more than happy to keep it. 

All of these thoughts are circulating around his skull, hyping him up for the game ahead as Harry and his friend group walk up to the bouncer at the entrance of the club they had chosen for the night, faint stars twinkling in the dark sky as the sounds and lights of the city fall away into background static. 

They cruise by the long line of people, hearing sounds of disagreement and grumbling coming from the other patrons waiting to get in. Harry casually tucks his large hands into the pockets of his light brown slacks as he pulls up in front of the burly bald man, who is wearing a black shirt with the club’s name printed in neon letters. The security guard is at least five inches taller than him, overswollen biceps and pectoral muscles rippling under the flimsy material of his work outfit as he crosses his arms over his barreled chest, cocking a single thick eyebrow at the seemingly young vampire. 

Harry delivers a good-natured smile up at the employee, despite the man’s obvious begrudging disbelief at what he is about to try and do. His friends chat quietly behind him, uninterested in what is happening; after years of being acquainted, they know that Harry is going to get exactly what he wants. He always does. 

He’s the best of them, that much is obvious. Not only when it comes to his experience with persuading sexual partners and getting himself a decent dinner, but he’s the best at convincing just about anyone to do anything, neutral of gender. He’s the second oldest of the crew, yet he seems to have the most knowledge and practice under his belt; his easygoing charisma, undeniable good looks, and dazzling smile could sway even the most stubborn of souls. Frankly, he’s so successful in getting his way that no one cares to try and argue for the leader position. Not when they can just sit back and let Harry do all the work. 

“Good evening.” Harry’s deep voice chimes giddily in the direction of the bouncer, his accent particularly heavy for no real reason. “How you doing tonight, mate?”

The guard— whose name tag reads Brock and Harry has to actively stop himself from snorting at how fitting the name is for such a brick of a human— looks down at him with a stony expression, voice flat. “I’m good.”

“Well, that’s great to hear!” The curly-haired boy’s simper widens, dimples popping into place as he skates into his next question with dramatic friendliness. “Haven’t had anyone cause you any trouble tonight, have you?”

Brock blinks once, attitude remaining coldly indifferent even in the face of Harry’s cheeriness. His words, however, are snipped and pointed. “Not yet.”

“I’m guessing you’d like to keep it that way.” The young man comments sympathetically, nodding his head along with the worker. “Totally understandable.” 

“Good.” The employee remarks in the same detached tone, shifting on his feet, obviously growing uncomfortable and irritated with the conversation. “So I’m guessing that means you know you have to get in line.” 

Harry glances over his shoulder at the lengthy expanse of people gathered along the side of the building, a light wind filtering through his freshly-shampooed ringlets as he studies the way the bright sign on top of the club casts alternating rainbow colors across the crowd. 

He makes a disapproving sound by sucking at his teeth, lulling his sight back onto the guard. “I don’t know, man. At this rate, I feel like by the time we get to the front of the line, it’ll be last call.”

“Maybe.” Brock shrugs offhandedly. “It is what it is, right? Fair’s fair.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Harry returns his gesture, but his posture shows no intention of moving, the corners of his rose lip set in a knowing smirk. “But since you’ve been having a good night, do you think you could find it in yourself to just let us through? We’d greatly appreciate it.” 

The bouncer’s face hardens, any shred of professional amiability washing out of his defined features. “I don’t think so.” 

The vampire’s shoulders sag in exaggerated disappointment. “Are you sure? It’s just five of us. Don’t think we’ll do much damage. Right, guys?”

Harry glimpses over his back to his friends, who let their conversation falter for a moment to throw out a chorus of half-assed agreements, trying to keep themselves from snickering. 

“We promise we won’t cause any problems.” Xander speaks up, jutting his chin encouragingly at the man as his lips twitch slyly. He lifts one of his hands, the smallest finger sticking out stiffly and wiggling around. “Pinky swear.” 

The rest of the group bursts into a round of light laughter, causing Harry to release a few airy giggles of his own.  

Xander looks over at Niall, raising his eyebrows and quipping in an innocent manner. “Right, Ni? No funny business tonight. That means no climbing onto the bar again and stripping down to your socks.” 

“That happened one time!” Niall exclaims incredulously, socking the taller boy in the shoulder as the others laugh harder than before, his blue eyes narrowed and face pinched. “Once! And it was only ‘cause Harry challenged me to a tequila shot contest.”

The Irish vampire’s accented voice drops darkly as he reminisces. “Fuckin’ hate tequila. Makes me act like a moron.” 

“As if you’re not one already.” Mitch pipes up in his usual soft dialect, chuckling as he ducks away from Niall’s vengeful fist. 

Harry cranes back to face Brock, thumb playing with his daylight ring as his hands stay relaxed inside his trousers. He shrugs one shoulder easily for emphasis. “See? You can let us through. We pinky swore.” 

The entire charade seems to have only infuriated the security guard more than before, his brows now fully furrowed and a deep, unamused frown etched across his previously pursed lips. His voice is on edge with barely controlled anger. “I’m not putting up with any shit. If you want in, go to the back of the line. If not, leave.”

Harry sighs grandly in defeat, head shaking slightly. “Guess I’ll just have to go the other route, then.”

The creature takes a step forward towards the employee, close enough that their chests almost press together. The bulky man stands his ground, though there’s a flicker of surprise in his eyes at seeing the smaller boy make such a bold move. 

“What the f—?”

Harry locks gazes with Brock, pupils dilating to twice their size, the usual emerald shade of his irises flickering a haunting red and looking sinister in the buttery light of the street lamps. Horror breaks across the worker’s face, the ability to form coherent sentences disappearing from his demeanor. Harry’s heightened senses can hear the way his heartbeat spikes, blood instinctively rushing into his chest as a response to the adrenaline materializing in his veins. The activation of human’s fight-or-flight modes is always so oddly pleasurable. Just feeling how they react so drastically makes Harry’s fangs tingle with longing. Fear is a good condiment, he’s learned; it gives blood’s usual metallic flavor a certain twang.

But at the moment, a beverage from this specific tap isn’t the one Harry has in mind. He has his interests set on something much tangier and full-bodied; maybe Casamigos golden tequila, or Don Julio's Blanco. Preferably mixed with a young office secretary or a Bath and Body Works employee instead of lemon and salt. 

All in all, Brock is just collateral for a much bigger prize, which lies behind the roped off area he holds dominion over. It’s Harry’s job to break that dam. 

Before the large man can fully react, the vampire begins working his compulsion strategy, tone coming out level and soothing, thick with persuasion and teetering along a sleepy undercurrent. “You’re going to let us through, and you’re going to forget we ever met.”

The guard’s pupils enlarge to match Harry’s, the look of utter terror on his face melting right off. His features go slack as the monster’s magical influence works its way through his brain, coating every neuron and bending him to the deliverer’s will. The man reaches over and removes the velvet rope blocking the group’s path, stepping off to the side obediently with an empty expression present across his appearance. 

The leader of the group smiles just as brightly as he had the second he’d walked up to the door. He passes by the worker, giving him a hard pat on the shoulder and feeling the muscular man strain under his supernatural strength. “Thank you very much. You have a nice night, Brock.” 

Harry’s friends follow behind him, echoing his parting message and sharing a collective chortle.  

The second the group dives past the frame of the club entrance, the whole ambiance of the atmosphere changes. Harry walks across the top ledge of the establishment, coming to a halt at the railing that overlooks the main level of the club, his inhumanly sharp eyes bouncing around all the corners of the building to construct some type of familiar layout in his head. Amidst the blinking lights, thick artificial smoke, and swaying bodies, his keen instincts sketch a mental image for tonight’s hunting ground. 

The bar is at the far left corner of the club, squared off and taking up a large chunk of the colorful tiled dance floor. The music station extends across the entire wall at the opposite end of the tavern, stocked with massive speakers and a professional turntable. Harry’s brows jump in mild surprise— it’s not every day that a club puts so much effort into their mixer. 

The animated dancing area is packed with people, the crowd all jumping and grinding to the beat of the bass, moving as one large mass while the rotating strobe lights hang from the cavernous ceiling, bathing their moving silhouettes in neon reds, drunken blues, groggy purples, and electric yellows. The dim surroundings and heavy fog make all the hues more intense, giving the endless party that timeless quality which people tend to enjoy about nightlife. It’s the night to remember effect that movies and shows always hyperbolize; he thinks this way because he’s well aware that not even a third of these people are sober enough to know what the fuck they’re doing, let alone recall it the following day. It’s comically ironic, really. 

But Harry profits off that liquor amnesia, so he brushes away his sardonic skepticism for the time being, settling his lean forearms onto the metal railing that lines the second story of the venue, which is meant to keep shit-faced customers from creating a messy lawsuit. He carefully absorbs the grandeur of it all, leaning his weight forward with a detached sigh, already flickering through the mental menu of his favorite drinks that he has expertly memorized. 

He’s in the process of choosing between a Manhattan— it isn’t a very complicated drink, which is exactly what he’s looking for; something simple and strong— or just straight tequila in a glass when he suddenly feels a familiar presence arrange itself beside him, bumping his shoulder playfully with their own.

Harry snaps out of his recipe retrieval, eyes casting to the side to land on his best friend of almost a century. He cocks an eyebrow expectantly, waiting for the thin, bearded man to make the first move towards conversation.

“You’re a real dick, y’know that?” 

The green-eyed vampire sputters into spontaneous laughter, the edges of his eyes crinkling as the small pits in his cheeks jolt awake. His tone is humorous and full of fake insult for the hell of the joke. “Wow, alright. So I get us into the club that you chose and that makes me a prick? Good to know. You can handle the muscle next time, then, if you’re gonna talk shit.”

Mitch cracks a gentle jesting grin, which is very on brand for him. He doesn’t seem like much, with his skinny, lanky frame, delicate features, shoulder-length hair, and somewhat scraggly stubble. He’s quiet, reserved, and hardly engages with anyone outside of their immediate group. He’s always been that way for as long as Harry could remember. 

When they had met back in 1924 at a speakeasy in New York, Mitch had given off a mysterious vibe that Harry had found amusing and intriguing. His slightly sickly appearance and distant persona made the younger vampire want to get to know him better; it was just so peculiar that this seemingly impassive man was working at an illegal bar as a live musician. One would think that a performer would have to display an engaging character to keep a loyal audience, but Mitch had been all the talk of the underground despite his unemotional coolness. It was startlingly unorthodox and Harry just had to know more. 

Therefore, with a bit of help from his convincing supernatural abilities, he’d secured a spot as the black market club’s leading vocalist. He wasn’t anything worth a Grammy, but he could keep his singing in tune and follow Mitch’s guitar rhythms easily enough, all thanks to his limited experience with piano. He fit right in. 

From the first show they had put on together, it was like they had known one another in a different lifetime. They clicked so flawlessly it was almost fictional. 

Harry was lively and charming on stage, working the crowd to his favor as easily as he could knock back a shot, wrapping every single patron around his jeweled pinky without breaking a sweat. His witty temperament countered Mitch’s timid disposition perfectly and that uncommon dynamic had been the foundation to their friendship. Their humorous shenanigans on stage (which included Harry pinching at Mitch’s ass and making vague vulgar motions at each other while harmonizing) was a hit within the drunken community, and it bled into their personal lives. They went from only interacting on stage to sharing drinks together afterwards, to hanging out outside of work, to deep late night conversations about the world and their experiences.

Soon enough, they were closer than either had expected to become. And once they found out each other’s true identities (Mitch had transitioned during the American Revolution, when a vampire in his battalion had given him blood to heal from a wound, unaware that the next day, Mitch would suffer a fatal gunshot to the stomach that would trigger his transformation) they grew inseparable. They had remained that way ever since. 

Despite his friend’s withdrawn tendencies, the older vampire never hesitates to make his opinions heard, obvious in how he’d just full-bodied Harry with that snarky comment. Even when it’s at his expense, Harry appreciates and respects the rawness of it. He loves the way Mitch is honest and straight-forward with everything that crosses his path— it’s one of his favorite traits about him and definitely one of the characteristics that had led Harry to deem him his best friend. He’s probably the most fulfilling person Harry has ever met and their friendship brings him a type of comfort that he doesn’t receive from anyone else.

Vampires can be so detached and cold not only towards humans, but towards one another, and it gets old at times. It’s unsettling not having someone to truly confide in, and Harry is grateful that Mitch had been so willing to fill that position.   

Due to this, Harry rarely takes genuine offense in Mitch’s digs. They’re normally expressed as a joke and they’ve both been alive for so long that thick skin is a default.

“How was I dick?” Harry inquires, slinking his head to the side with entertained curiosity. “If anything, he was the one being an asshole. I asked him to let us in nicely and he practically spit in my face!”

Mitch snorts in amusement, shaking his head lightly as his eyes streak across the humongous room in the same cunning manner Harry’s had. “You and Xander didn’t have to mock him that way.” 

That’s another thing that makes Mitch the better half of their power duo— he still has a decent shred of humanity in his unbeating heart. Pessimistic conclusions aside, Harry does have a bit, as well...but his is more like a paper-thin pencil shaving than a shred. Barely there, but there, at least. 

The young man returns his companion’s snort, rolling his eyes up to the hanging lights over their heads. “Was just some harmless teasing. Nothing bad came of it.”

Mitch scowls scoldingly. “It was unnecessary and mean.”

Harry mimics his expression with his nose scrunched sarcastically. “We were just taking the piss, and it’s not like he’s gonna remember it anyways. Stop being such a kill-joy.” 

“Stop being such an arrogant little shit.” 

“Or what?” Harry tilts his chin up challengingly, the amber specks around his pupils glinting tauntingly, faint black veins momentarily webbing across the whites of his eyes. He sweetens his voice into a honeyed drawl. “Are you gonna spank me, daddy? Have I been a bad boy?” 

Mitch belts out a feathery chuckle, shoving his friend with enough strength to send a regular human flying across the deck. But since the taller vampire matches his force, he hardly moves an inch. “Fuck off.” 

“I’m being serious!” Harry cackles, turning his hips and sticking out his ass towards his visibly disgusted acquaintance. “Go fucking in, if you want.”

He lowers his voice into a sultry hum, wagging his backside jestingly. “I like it rough, baby. Why don’t you bend me over this railing and show me who’s boss?”

It’s Mitch’s turn to roll his eyes to the ceiling, voice deadpan. “I think I’ll pass.” 

Harry juts his lower lip into a theatrical pout, sniffling faux tears. “You’re rejecting me that quick? Who’s the asshole now, huh?”

His best friend doesn’t even blink. “Still you.”

“I can live with that. And it’s probably a good call on your end to give up all this,” he signals vaguely up and down his tight torso with a ringed hand, grinning as he watches the veteran vampire pretend to gag, “because I don’t think Sarah wouldn’t be too happy about it.” 

Mitch’s humorous face immediately drops, eyes narrowing at the change in topic. “Very funny.” 

“I know, right? I’m a proper comedian.” Harry quips proudly, batting his lashes mockingly. “Where is Sarah, anyways? Have you heard from her lately?” 

Sarah and Mitch...They’re a complex couple, if they can even be called a couple. The two are more like occasional friends with benefits, “occasional” meaning “once every couple of months, if Sarah happens to be passing by.” 

Their relationship is open and very loose, mostly due to the fact that Sarah is fairly new to the world of blood-driven immortality and has decided to take full advantage of it. She’s been using compulsion to travel the world for the last three years since she changed, which had been the result of an unfortunate car accident. 

Mitch had been seeing her casually beforehand, keeping her around for the purpose of having a conventional feeding arrangement. Every time vampires feed, they heal the wounds they inflict with a bit of their blood, proceeding to then wipe the person’s memory with compulsion in order to eradicate any chances of getting caught. The caveat is that if a human dies with vampire blood in their system, they become one. 

Sarah’s death happened the day after she’d spent a night with Mitch, and one can imagine how distressed she had been when she'd awoken atop a metal table in a morgue within the basement of a hospital. Mitch had been there from the very first second she’d opened her eyes to her new life. Or rather, her dead life. He had helped her get accustomed to the next stage (meaning having to cut family ties in order to avoid a catastrophe— the less people that know the truth about the supernatural, the better) coaxing her through transition and teaching her the way to go about the rest of eternity without putting herself and others in danger. 

Vampires rarely have any compassion for life (usually out of spite, which stems from how their own lives were taken from them), so it’s not uncommon that bodies are found drained of blood in back alleys, abandoned warehouses, and washed up on banks of oceans and rivers. It could be either of two reasons, or even both: the monster doesn’t care about the consequences of their actions, or they never learned to control their urges. 

Harry’s crew isn't that careless. Through Mitch, they had learned restraint, taking up his practice of feeding enough to satisfy themselves without killing the host, healing them, and then erasing the occurrence from their memories. Mitch had come up with the tactic to cling to his humanity— to be as kind and nondestructive as possible— but if Harry’s being honest, most of their friends only play along because it’s convenient. No bodies means no police involvement, and no police involvement means being able to settle down in one place for an extended period, not having to stress about the annoying process of bouncing around the world for the rest of their lives to avoid detection. 

Keeping low was for the best, and when things get rough— whether it be a mistake on their part or a disastrous bender caused by another vampire passing through— they resort to drinking from blood bags until things tide over. Mitch has a contact at the nearest hospital, which is how he gets access to the stock, as well as how he managed to clean up Sarah’s passing so quickly. 

All in all, Harry had only mentioned Sarah to tease his friend, knowing the slight sensitivity that comes with the subject. Vampires rarely form emotional bonds, typically because it can get really messy, really fast, whether that connection be to a mortal or to another creature of their species. All of them have baggage of some sort— you can’t die, resurrect, be forced to abandon your family, and be a slave to drinking blood for the rest of eternity and just...be normal. That type of extreme emotional turmoil is corrosive towards love. It’s always better to just avoid it all together. 

That’s why this is so habitual to joke about; it’s a way to deflect. 

Mitch sighs grandly, Harry’s question echoing in his skull. “I don’t know where she is, to be honest. Last we talked was, like, four weeks ago, I think. She was in Japan, said she was drumming for a new upcoming band. Haven’t heard from her since.”

Harry nods his head once in understanding, itching to steer the theme of their conversation elsewhere now that he knows the topic is in a more sensitive state than he’d imagined. He doesn’t want to push Mitch into a depressive episode when they’re supposed to be having a good time. Spending the night consoling his sulky friend in the bathroom of a club is the last thing he wants right now. 

“I guess that makes Sarah the asshole, then.” He pokes jokingly, bumping the older vampire’s hip with his own. “She’s ghosting you. Get it? It’s funny ‘cause she’s actually dead.” 

Mitch’s sad expression shatters like glass, replaced by one of unamused secondhand embarrassment at the shitty pun. “I fucking hate you.”

“All the people who were ahead of their time were hated.” Harry sing-songs, turning up his nose haughtily. “Copernicus, Socrates, Einstein— all of them were hated for being geniuses. I’m willing to carry that same burden.” 

Mitch blinks at him three times. “No one hated Einstein.”

The curly-haired boy’s lips twitch darkly. “I’m pretty sure Japan did.” 

“You’re going to hell.” 

“I’m already there, mate.” 

Mitch shakes his head, but even through the black lights, Harry can see him trying to ward off a laugh. After a moment’s pause, he speaks up again softly. “It’s not that hard to refrain from humiliating innocent people who are just doing their job, H.” 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, you’re still on that?” The broad monster groans in exasperation, palms slapping down on the metal rungs below him. “We were just having some fun! But fine. If it helps you fake sleep at night, I’ll try and keep my condescending flare to a minimum.”

“That’s all I’m asking.” Mitch responds peacefully, tapping his nimble fingers casually along the railing, his action much less violent than his companion’s. “S’not too difficult.” 

“Whatever.” Harry scoffs, returning his intent gaze to the dance floor, scoping out the scene once again in hopes of finding a proper meal for the night. 

He zones in on a group of young women gathered along one side of the bar, their messy giggling and lack of balance giving away that they’re obviously sloshed off their faces. Seems promising enough. 

When he talks once more, his tone holds an attitude that plays on a grumble, but it’s somewhat distracted. “The least you could do is let me have some fun, considering I didn’t even want to come.” 

Mitch huffs, making an entertained noise in the back of his throat. “You say that every single time we go out, and yet you always end up taking someone home. Don’t know why you’re complaining.” 

Harry side-eyes him from his peripheral vision, the corners of his pretty cherry mouth dipping down grudgingly, mood defensive. “You drag me to these things so I’m not going to apologize for making the best of it. I put a lot of effort into my pick-ups! I deserve to get my dick wet.” 

“God, please don’t say that again.” His best mate physically makes a vomiting sound. “You’re acting like a spoiled fraternity douche.” 

Harry’s gaze ignites into flames, his back straightening out as he fully turns to face the shorter man. He’s never been insulted so low before. “Take that back!” 

“Take that back!” Mitch mocks in an exaggerated, high-pitched British accent, attempting to stifle giggles. 

“Take it back! You know how much I hate Gen Z.”

“Okay, boomer.” 

“You’re older than I am!” 

“I know. Your lack of maturity is a constant reminder.”

Harry opens his mouth, prepared to make a sharp comeback about how Mitch should have left the shaggy-haired stoner aesthetic back in the eighties, but then a heavy Irish accent interrupts his rebuttal. 

“What’s all this about getting your dick wet?” 

Both of the vampires turn towards Niall, finding Xander and Adam accompanying him in a loose semi-circle. 

Xander isn’t paying any attention, too busy tapping away at the screen of his smartphone, apparently engaged in a very riveting conversation with whoever is on the other side. Adam has his hands tucked into the pockets of his plum purple wind-breaker, looking over Harry’s shoulder, seeming to be adamantly searching for someone in particular amidst the mob on the level beneath them. Niall is the only one interested in their dying conversation, probably only because he heard something crude being mentioned. 

“It’s nothing.” Harry dismisses, but he can’t help but stick Mitch with a glare. “What’s the plan for tonight, then?”

Adam speaks up for the first time. “Charlotte and Ny texted saying they got here about ten minutes ago. Mentioned they were dancing near the DJ station, so I think I’ll go find them.”

“Sounds good.” Harry bobs his head in accordance. “We’ll see you out there, yeah?” 

Adam returns his action, turning on his heel and heading for the stairs that lead to the bottom floor. The leader of the group watches him trot onto the large spiral staircase, disappearing into the thick throng of people scattered across its wide steps. 

Harry shifts his attention to Xander, snapping his fingers a few times in his direction and giving a two-toned whistle. “What about you? What’s got your head?”

“Not what, who.” Niall teases, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively and making kissy faces at their friend. 

Xander ignores him, glancing up at the green-eyed brunette to let him know he’ll be with him in a second, returning his focus back to his iPhone. After a few more elongated moments of typing, the older man finally locks his device. 

“I have a date.” He throws out casually, almost as if it should be obvious. 

“A date?” Harry reiterates slowly, not quite buying it. Xander doesn’t date. He couch-surfs just as much as Harry does. 

“Mmhm.” Xander glimpses behind his fellow vampire, eyes carrying intention. “It’s just a random dude from Tinder. I thought it’d be easier to set something up beforehand, just so I don’t have to spend the whole night trying to figure out if a guy is making eyes at me or trying to keep his whiskey down.” 

“Smart.” Harry shrugs his sculpted brows, impressed. A cocky grin toys with the corners of his mouth. “But we both know no one will ever compare to me.” 

“Right.” Xander scoffs in a deadpan manner, gifting him a tight, aggravated smile. “If only you weren’t such an emotionally unavailable prick.” 

“Oh, like you’re mentally stable enough for a relationship?” Harry bites back, but it holds no true malice, just some petty rivalry. “Piss off.”

“Happily!” The other vampire exclaims, clasping his hands together for dramatics. “Have fun finding someone out there. I’m just gonna grab a to-go box for my already prepped meal.” 

Harry doesn’t bother watching him leave. Instead, he turns to Niall, pointing at him to symbolize it's his turn to share his plans for the night. “What have you got, Lucky Charms?” 

His friend breaks into a jolly cackle at the nickname, arms falling crossed over his chest, hands absentmindedly squeezing his elbows in thought. “Well, I dunno, Tea and Crumpets. What’s your game plan?” 

Before Harry can answer, Mitch butts in, feeling left out of the banter and somewhat hurt that no one had assigned him an alter ego. “What’s my country-derived nickname?” 

Niall gives the American a slow once-over, shifting in his dark brown Clarks boots, fitted navy slack riding up his thighs and allowing his rainbow polka-dot socks to peek out. He hums lowly in the back of his throat, a grin spreading across his rosy cheeks. “Biscuits and Gravy.” 

Harry chimes in, his own arms casually folding over his strong chest, index finger tapping on his bottom lip as if mulling something over. “I quite like We The People, actually.”

The Irish lad snaps his fingers as if having a sudden epiphany. “Uncle Sam!”

Harry’s emerald eyes twinkle with glee at seeing the way Mitch’s go half-lidded, no longer entertained. “Four Score And Seven Years Ago.” 

“Okay, I think that’s enou—”

Niall wags a finger at Harry, lifting one shoulder in question, seeking approval on his next idea. “Star Spangled Banner?”

Harry copies the boy’s motion from before, snapping his fingers and making jazz hands. “I Pledge Allegiance.”  

“Ok, I get it!” Mitch whines with annoyed finality, pushing off the metal railing with a curt grimace on his scraggly face. 

“You asked!” Niall rationalizes between hiccups of evilly delighted joy, cupping his stomach as if to keep it from splitting open. 

“Won’t make that mistake again.” The older creature grumbles, leaning his back against the rungs and looking off towards the distance, communicating that he’s done being a part of the conversation. 

Once Harry manages to reign in his giggles, he rubs at his nose with the side of his finger, releasing a wistful sigh. He refers to the question Niall had stated before their little bullying fest. “I think I’m just gonna do what I always do— sway a nice, pretty girl into doing some not-so-nice but very pretty things.” 

“Solid.” The Irish bloke remarks, toying with the plastic buttons on his silk beige top. “Not much to do other than that, to be fair. Adam’s usually my wingman, but I guess he abandoned me for a girl’s night.” 

“Mitch is mine, and he knows better than to dip on me.” Harry roughly nudges his best friend with his elbow, dodging to the side when Mitch tries to hit him in return. 

Niall hums softly in amusement. “Maybe I should make Adam sign whatever contract you drafted for that poor bugger.” 

The curly brunette snorts. “Good luck. Adam’s as stubborn as they come. But, hey, if you can’t find anyone, just come to me.” Harry’s irises flit crimson for a millisecond, an ominous smirk buckling his features. “You know I’m always happy to share.” 

“Thanks,” his friend exhales flatly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“If you’re taking tips,” Mitch pipes up, vaguely signaling at Niall’s shirt with his chin, “maybe don’t wear that stupid shirt next time. The elephant doodles look ridiculous.”

“It’s a good thing I’m not taking fashion tips from anyone who actually enjoyed living in Ohio, then.” Niall snaps in an exaggerated American accent, middle finger jutting towards the other man. “The only thing you know how to dress is a cornfield scarecrow. Must be why you look like one.” 

Harry forces down more laughter, clearing his throat softly. “You’ll be fine. Just don’t get hammered— girls hate that.” 

“Note taken.” The pale boy runs his fingers through his hair, fixing it up and adding texture to appear more laid-back and rugged. “I’ll see you later, then.”

“Later.” The younger vampire recites, giving a big thumbs-up. 

“Good luck out there. You, too, Boston Tea Party.” 

With that, Niall saunters away, leaving a fully laughing Harry and a grouchy Mitch in his wake. 

The two acquaintances decide to follow in everyone else’s example, descending down the looped staircase and chatting about Mitch’s latest gig at a new bar downtown. 

Harry praises Mitch's talent with his guitar, specifically the fact that he found a hobby which he enjoys so much that he’s willing to keep it as a permanent part of his life. It’s easy to get bored of things when you have hundreds of years ahead of you; everything can seem pointless, in the end. But Harry doesn’t think Mitch has ever let himself fall into those types of dark headspaces and he finds that extremely admirable. 

Harry wishes he could say the same. He’s no musical prodigy, that much is obvious, but he is an expert at playing a few specific French songs on the piano by memory. He rarely does it, though; only when he’s in a low state of mind, which— given the origin of how he learned said classical pieces— isn’t something he’s proud of. They’re tied to a very gruesome part of his past that he’d rather bury deep inside, but he can only push back his troubles for so long before they begin to leak out, staining the clean sheet of recovery he had sewn into place. Those arrangements just bring him a warped sense of comfort he can’t explain.

Even though he’s aware of the destructive aspects of the songs, he finds himself humming one now out of instinct as he elbows through squished bodies and flailing limbs. The second he notices he’s doing it, he cuts it off, focusing all his intention on making it to the other side of the room to the bar. It’s a hard trip when it feels like the walls of the building are closing in on him. 

When Harry finally breaks free from the Human Centipede re-enactment that is the club dance floor, he practically collapses onto the sleek glass counter. Death was less painful than that walk. 

He cranes his neck to the side wildly, suddenly remembering that his much smaller, much skinnier, much more crushable friend had been in tow behind him. To his utter shock, he watches as Mitch calmly weeds around grinding drunk couples with the poise and grace of a swan, filling the empty spot besides him without a single ailment in the world. 

Harry blinks at him blankly in silence, almost as if he’d grown an extra set of fangs. 

Mitch flags the bartender from all the way down the counter, not bothering to meet the green eyes peering at him in disbelief. “You’re so fucking dramatic, H.”

“How did you not die? Again?” Harry sputters, sight jutting all around the older vampire’s body, looking for any battle wounds or missing appendages. “I almost lost an arm in there!”

“It’s a good thing it wasn’t your favorite one, right?” Mitch smirks at his own lewd joke, the simper molding into one of genuine kindness when the mixologist slides up in front of them. “Hi, how are you? I’m good, as well, thank you for asking! Yeah, I’ve got something in mind. Don’t worry, I’m not one of the ‘just make me something sweet’ type of assholes.”

Harry zones out the rest of the friendly chat Mitch entertains with the employee, letting his gaze wander around the large auditorium-like room. He dances his vision over the DJ remixing music on top of the stage, head beginning to bop along to the beat that is currently shaking the seven foot tall speakers. He’s pleasantly surprised at how good this specific producer is. 

He continues scoping out the rest of the venue, taking notes of the different clusters of people that seem to hold promise for the plans he has in store later tonight. A small group of hippie friends here, a two-party duo of tipsy stoners there, and a clump of college students at the edge of the ruckus, stumbling around loudly. Things are looking somewhat decent, in his opinion. The hippies seem to be catching his attention more than the others— specifically, the one that looks similar to Stevie Nicks. That’s a fantasy that’s been waiting to be fulfill for decades now. 

Harry lulls his head forward again when he feels Mitch give a squeeze at his elbow, telling him that the bartender is waiting to take his order. He decides to go for the gold tequila, asking for it straight in a highball glass without any garnishes. The worker’s eyebrows jump up slightly at the unorthodox request, but he drops a polite, “Coming right up.” either way.

“You truly have no flavor.” Mitch tuts once their waiter has stepped away to prepare their drinks. “No taste buds whatsoever.” 

“Yeah? Well, you can suck my flavorless dick.” Harry chimes brightly, eyes crinkling shut as a result of a theatrical smile. 

The younger vampire goes to turn back around, legitimately interested in the girl he’d seen that looked like one of his seventies celebrity crushes, already running through scenarios in his head on how he’d get her into his bed for tonight. Weed and ABBA are probably good conversation starters for that, if Harry’s undisputed people skills have anything to say about it. 

As he’s rotating his torso, a blurred image catches his eyes. He does a double-take, honing in on a group of girls that look faintly familiar. He scans them carefully as they huddle around the corner of the bar area, laughing and toasting along to the multiple conversations they all have going at once. They look like the typical posse that would be a backdrop clique in a mainstream movie. 

He knows where he recognizes them from— it had been the same girls he’d spotted earlier up on the second deck.

Harry expertly surveillances each woman, picking out potential candidates as easily as he’d pinch petals off a flower. The one in the center of the group is obviously the leader, present in how she’s the prettiest and is somehow managing to juggle all of these interactions at once. It means she’s used to being the center of attention— probably strives under it. He throws her out as a potential; the last thing he needs is someone who everyone knows and seeks out. He wouldn’t be able to sneak away with her quietly. 

The rest of the girl crew all seem to be the same status-wise, appearing as supporting characters to the main one in the middle. He could choose any one of them blindly and it wouldn’t make a difference. They all seem so tight-knit, they probably share personalities, at this point. It’s like dipping his hand into a jar of jelly beans and they’re all the same flavor. That notion makes him laugh to himself a bit; maybe Mitch was right about his lack of taste. 

Then, Harry spots her, and all the other women immediately go up in smoke. 

It’s hard not to spot her. She sticks out like a sore thumb, but not in a good way. 

The prospective contender is off to the side, sitting atop a barstool with her feet tucked along the footrest, tapping them against the metal rung awkwardly. She’s talking to one of the other people in the group, but the interaction seems forced and not very satisfying, obvious in both of their faces. She’s tracing her middle finger around the edge of her glass cup distractedly, the contents inside barely touched, the ice in her drink long-melted. She seems disinterested in the chaos her friends are causing, her expression bored and borderline regretful, as if she doesn’t want to be here. 

The further he sizes the girl up, the more appropriate she looks for the role he needs filled. Since barely anyone is paying attention to her, that means he can lead her astray without too much resistance from her acquaintances, if any at all. She appears somewhat unimportant to the narrative— merely a background extra— and it makes him wonder what she’s doing with this clique of women that can’t seem to be bothered by her presence. It’s sad, really. Sad, but beneficial, because that means he can succeed in making her the supporting protagonist of his narrative, at least for tonight. 

The girl is attractive, but not anything astronomical. She’s unconventionally pretty in a way that makes her relevant, but not particularly distinct in the eyes of regular men with presumptuous standards. She’s easy to pass up, and if Harry hadn’t been actively pursuing someone of her bashful persona to card into his plans, he wouldn’t have noticed her. At the risk of once again sounding shallow, Harry’s aware that— physically speaking— he’s very much out of her league. His above-average appearance gives off the vibe that he’d fit better with the leader of the group instead of with her, but he doesn’t want someone that would raise suspicions as a result of their absence. This girl, sitting along the edge of the party with barely any purpose and no one to really question her whereabouts, is exactly what he’s looking for. She’s perfectly imperfect for the cause. 

Harry continues to examine her meticulously, analyzing other traits that can give him a better feel for her character. She’s clad in a pair of high-waisted pastel pink silk pants that stop right at her ankles, accompanied by a flouncy creme lace blouse tucked into her waist. Tan wedges, no accessories, delicate rosey nail polish, and minimalist makeup. The boldest thing about her is the brick red shade of her lipstick, which is easily shadowed by the sparkly sequin dresses, five inch heels, and layered tops her friends are wearing. 

Harry likes her outfit, though. It’s concise and safe, which he can appreciate. Yes, perhaps she looks like she belongs in a dentist’s office rather than a Los Angeles nightclub, but he thinks there’s beauty in simplicity. She looks cute, and that’s good enough for him. 

“She seems interesting.” Mitch’s soft voice snaps him out of his detail-hungry haze, drawing him back into the reality that is the black lighting of the club and the deep booming of the music’s bass. 

His friend slides his tall drink across the glass counter, the amber liquid inside warping his reflection. 

“I suppose so.” Harry answers passively, shrugging one shoulder in indifference while accepting the cup, ringed fingers clinking against the crystalline surface. 

He takes a leisurely sip from the straight tequila, its tangy kick sending a warm surge up through his ears and down his throat, spreading into his chest and along the trench of his tummy. Alcohol really is the cure to everything. 

Mitch gives him a deadpan look, the strobe lights alternating across the glossy surface of his hazel irises, highlighting smugness. “You’ve been gawking for five minutes. Put your pride back in your pants and go talk to her.” 

The curly-haired vampire flashes him a light smirk over the rim of his drink, absentmindedly tapping his two initial rings along the bottom of the highball cup. “Ever so blunt, aren’t you?”

Mitch scuffs, taking a swig from his trusty beer bottle. Out of everything, that’s the one aspect Harry despises about his best mate— that he goes to a club and orders the same drink every time. Where was the fun in that? Where was the excitement of trying something new? When you have an eternity, the least you could do is utilize it to your advantage. Cycling through every cocktail in human history is a prime example of making the best out of immortality.  

But Mitch is a creature of habit— as are most of their kind— and Harry knows he won’t shake easily. Not when it comes to surrendering his preferred beverage, and definitely not when it comes to sticking his nose in Harry’s intimate business. Meddling and being irritating are what best friends are for. 

“What can I say? Pep talks are my forte.” The older monster remarks sarcastically, bumping his bottle against Harry’s glass in encouragement, using the spout of his container to point in the general direction of the mysterious girl. “Now go make dinner.”

“But, darlinggggg,” Harry whines playfully, a smirk still tugging at the corners of his slightly liquor-swollen lips. “I made dinner last night. Isn’t it your turn?”

Mitch rolls his eyes and shoves Harry’s shoulder harshly, with just enough force that it actually has some type of impact this time around. “Just go, before she gets creeped out by your staring.” 

Harry’s own irises copy his friend’s actions as he pushes himself up from the bar, rubbing at the new sore spot on his shoulder with an exaggerated pout present. “Ow.”

Mitch blinks at him flatly, fighting off a grin. “You’ve had worse. Go.”

Harry swivels on his heel, once again facing the group of tipsy girls at the other end of the counter. It appears that most of them have dispersed into the dance floor, having found partners to entertain them for the time being, moving to the music as if there are no other people in the room. They had left behind three of their companions, one of which is Harry’s aspiring hookup; he gets the feeling that the two girls had stayed behind out of the kindness of their hearts, feeling too guilty to leave the runt of the litter all on her own. He hopes that’s the case because if so, the second Harry inserts himself into the situation, they’ll take that chance and split, leaving him to tend his meal in peace.

He tucks one large hand into the front pocket of his trousers, the grip on his glass tightening a smidge, rings biting into his skin as the condensation of the chilled tequila cools the small spike of pain. He spins his lionhead ring around his finger within his slacks, gradually drifting closer as he goes through a checklist of prized pick-up lines he could use to garner her attention. He ducks and dodges inebriated club-goers with ease now that he’s had something to take the edge off, finally reaching the end of the bar, slowly coming to a halt right behind his target for the night. 

Harry nearly passes out as soon as her scent hits him. 

It’s faint and tender and nothing quite like anything he’s encountered before, a mixture of honey and lavender that permeates through her normal perfume. He feels like his head’s been put through a wringer, his whole body clenching for a moment as raging sparks erupt across the pit of his belly. He indulges a deep breath, willing the blazing current away in order to keep his cool, but all he can see flashing before his eyes are images of her leaving traces of that smell smeared all over his face as he bobs his head between her quivering thighs.

He takes another penetrating inhale, centering his mind back into the present. He needs to behave.

Her friends spot him immediately, their side of the conversation faltering to ash. They give Harry a wide-eyed once-over, mouths parting in slight shock as they drink up his attractive appearance, gazes lingering along his thick chest as it strains the baby blue material of his tee. Their sights drag across his broad shoulders, dainty collarbones, and strong neck, faces gawking without remorse, blinking emptily at the slope of his sharp jaw and the peaks of his prominent cheekbones. They seem to be at a loss for words the second his dimples indent into place, his brows shrugging in a half-assed greeting before he cocks his head to side a tad, voice velvet as it directs towards the girl they had forgotten existed.  

“I’m guessing you’re the designated driver?”

Y/N jumps slightly in response at the new addition to the painfully dying conversation, not recognizing the heavy English accent and deep baritone that booms behind her. She had been wondering why Melissa and Isabel had stopped talking so abruptly, and she now has her answer. 

Y/N slowly goes to cast a curious glance over her shoulder and Harry can hear the pulse flaring in her neck from the sudden intrusion to her surroundings. His fangs prick along the inside of his bottom lip due to carnal instincts; he has to will them back into receding. 

 When her eyes land on the owner of the random words, her finger immediately halts its swirling motions along the hem of her glass.

‘Fuck.’ is the only thought that registers through her short-circuiting mind. 

The lanky, curly-haired brunette that stands before her gives a gentle yet confident smile, the gesture dazzling even in the low lighting of the atmosphere. He’s absolutely gorgeous, with deep pits carving into his cheeks, perfect teeth complimenting full cherry red lips, eyes the color of a rainforest canopy, and a broad frame that is somehow not overwhelming. He’s sporting neatly ironed tan slacks, a fitted cotton shirt with a cute yet crude graphic at its center, a fancy plaid coat, and crisp yellow Vans without a single smudge in sight.

Y/N can’t help but take notice of all the little details of his fit, especially the accessories. A beautiful pearl necklace laid along his delicate clavicle, a cross resting between his defined pectorals, and a matching earring dangling from his earlobe. Not to mention the array of clunky rings arranged along nimble fingers, hugging a tall glass carrying caramel liquor and somehow managing to dwarf the cup’s size. The extra decoration is sensual in such an unexpectedly delicious manner. 

The hand he has tucked in his pants ducks out to comb through his dark auburn ringlets and Y/N can feel her mouth water at the new round of elegant rings. The action activates the cologne Harry had thoughtfully spritz in specific pressure points along his body, the scent of tobacco and vanilla traveling through the fog-heavy air and causing Y/N’s stomach to summersault. 

The young man is as close to flawless as anyone could ever come. 

Y/N feels an unmistakable sharp pain shoot through her ankle, and she comes to the realization that it had been the tip of one of her friend’s heels. The reality check jars her out of the embarrassing daze he’d spelled onto her, open mouth snapping shut and her lashes fluttering over her previously unblinking eyes. 

“Oh! Uhm—uh—” She clumsily twists sideways to fully face him, swallowing thickly and tasting the remnants of the alcohol she’d barely been nursing. “N-No. I’m not— well, I don’t think…? We Ubered here so that wouldn’t make any sense ‘cause I have no car to drive...so...” 

The boy chuckles softly at her choppy monologue, his laughter warm and inviting, similar to the look reflecting off his shiney irises, the golden flecks around his pupils seeming to swell and shrink from the rainbow lights cascading across them. Despite being caught off guard and utterly embarrassed, she can’t seem to break eye contact with him. The longer she gazes into his eyes, the more relaxed she begins to feel, a fuzzy heat stemming from the center of her belly and spreading up her neck and ears. 

Y/N gulps heavily like before, willing her tongue to produce a less embarrassing comment. “Sorry. Let me...Let me start over…Hi.”

“Hello.” He quips back playfully, lopsided grin widening in fond amusement. He lifts his drink up a bit in greeting. “M’Harry.”

“Y/N.” The girl squeaks out, copying his gesture because it’s easier than forcing her disoriented brain to try and come up with its own. 

Harry flirts his intent up and down Y/N’s body slowly, checking her out without any subtlety. He wants her to know he’s interested. 

When his sight locks with hers again, he bats his lashes sultrily and pours as much passion as he can into his tone, accent weighing in just right. “S’nice to meet you, Y/N.”

Her entire face prickles at how her name sounds dripping from those faultless raspberry lips. She’d pay anything to hear him say it again. “You, too.” 

This is not what Y/N intended. This is most definitely not what she’d intended to happen when she’d reluctantly agreed to go out with some coworkers on a Friday night, giving in simply because she had promised herself she’d be more social within her new job. 

She had moved to California roughly two months ago, wanting to get away from her old life in the small, boring town she hated to call home. Buying the flight had been a drastic decision made when she had been under the influence of something she’d rather not admit, but the following day— after she had sobered up from a wicked hangover— she found herself not wanting to cancel the trip. Found herself craving the excitement and adventure of beginning anew somewhere far away from everything she had ever known. 

All of Y/N’s friends back home had supported her without hesitation, egging her preposterous idea and congratulating her on “getting the fuck out of here.” Her family had been a little less supportive, but after a few heartfelt chats about following your ambitions and a budgeting lesson from her cousin, they had gingerly gotten on board. They understood that keeping her trapped in that lame town where nothing really happened wasn’t the way to ensure her success in life. Therefore, the people closest to her had swallowed their opinions and respected her choice to dive off the deep end, in search of something better beyond the borders of their tiny city. 

Within a week, Y/N had secured a decent job at a semi-popular cafe, courtesy of a connection from a family friend. Within two weeks, after many sleepless nights full of Rocky Road ice cream and the bright white pages of ApartmentFinder.com, she had managed to book a nice flat close to her place of work. It was a miracle, if she’d ever seen one. Especially within the crowded, expensive community that is Los Angeles. Within three weeks, she had been walking out of the giant glass building that was LAX with only two suitcases in tow, boarding an Uber to her new life. 

Things had never seemed more picturesque, she’d thought. Everything was falling into place in a way that seemed almost blessed by the universe.

Then, the culture shock hit. 

California was different. It’s was so fucking different than anything she’d ever faced and she wasn’t prepared for the social difficulties she’d have to hurdle. All her life, Y/N had grown up with the same people around her, spending every school year with them up until graduation, expanding her friend group as time passed. Even after high school, she’d remained closely connected with most of her graduating class. The region she lived in was tiny, tight-knit and friendly; it was hard not to. She couldn’t even go to the store for groceries without bumping into at least three people from her Algebra II class. 

Point being, it had been ages since Y/N had been put in a situation where she actively had to try and make friends. She’d been through that challenge way back in kindergarten and had never been hit with it again. 

Until it smacked her across the head here in LA.

Y/N didn’t mesh well with Californians, she quickly found out. They were all about crazy parties and club-hopping, whereas Y/N had been raised on community cookouts and mass sleepovers. They enjoyed getting cross-faded and streaking down the beach at two in the morning, meanwhile Y/N liked stripping down to her undies and spending the night binging Queer Eye while stuffing her face with Cheeze-Its and Snickers bars. They freely boasted about their sex adventures while bussing down tables at the restaurant, while Y/N’s intimate life had been nonexistent since the move. 

It was just...startling, to put it lightly. It wasn’t what she had expected at all, and that’s mostly her fault for not doing the correct amount of research before jumping headfirst into a cliche LifeTime film. 

Therefore, Y/N had made a pact with herself one month in, swearing to let loose and allow her surroundings to sweep her into a new dynamic— into a new, social butterfly version of herself. She’d started accepting the invitations from her coworkers to go out at night, and she’d started putting more effort into being open to wild experiences, no matter how scary they might seem. Shutting down and refusing to mold to her environment would only result in her having to return home with her tail between her legs, and she’d rather jump naked off a pier than see her parents’ faces wracked with pity. 

And that’s exactly what she’d done a couple nights ago, at the encouragement of the group of girls she was at the club with now. It had, in turn, ended in her coming down with a mild cold, but at least now she’d be able to tell her friends back home a cool story about dropping inhibitions. 

Dropping inhibitions is also why Y/N’s here tonight, dressed in the most party-like outfit she could put together, prodding an overly-boozy drink into her system, attempting to release some of the tension that had been building in her head for the last couple of weeks since she’d left her old life behind. That’s why she’s here, with strands of her blow-dried hair catching on the dark red gloss Melissa has slathered on her mouth in a thick layer. That’s why she’s here, with synthetic smoke scratching at her lungs and drunken men and women bumping into her every two minutes, most of them too busy sticking their tongues down each other’s throats to realize they’d almost toppled her off her seat. That’s why she’s here, with a blasé expression plastered across her features as her coworkers talk over her head without a second thought, her mind far away from the walls of this overhyped horror house. 

Y/N had been thinking about how she’d just started her Disney+ membership, finding comfort in putting together a mental checklist of all the movies she’s going to plow through the second she sets foot past the doorframe of her apartment. Indulging on her childhood was an ideal form of escapism, in her opinion. She’s positive Walt Disney would agree. 

That’s what her brain had been lost in when Harry’s deep, melodic voice had interrupted her daydreams, sending her spiraling into an embarrassing performance of nerve-induced hysteria. 

Now here she is, blinking back at him dumbly, eyes the smallest bit damp from the smoke machine and neon flashes of light. And here he is, smirking at her over the rim of his glass, eyes raking down her wired up body suggestively as he takes a calm sip from what appears to be the straight tequila in his colossal, bejeweled hand. 

The English boy takes a gradual step closer to her, wanting to make sure he’s not crossing any boundaries that would make her uncomfortable. The scent of his cologne intensifies and she feels a fiery heat suddenly pour between her clasped thighs. It just hits her how long it’s truly been since she’s gotten laid and fuck, it’s sad.

Harry begrudgingly peels his attention away from Y/N for a second, aiming his words towards the girls standing behind her with their mouths still opened stupidly. Even from a respectful distance, his warm breath still washes across her jaw and cheek, causing electricity to zip down her spine. “You don’t mind if I steal her for a bit, do you?”

‘Yeah,’ Y/N thinks in the back of her muddled skull, ‘that’s definitely tequila.’

Isabel and Melissa slowly shake their heads in unison, glancing at each other as if to confirm he’d just spoken to them. 

The edges of Harry’s lips jolt into a kind, easygoing smile. “Thank you. Promise I’ll keep her safe.” 

Y/N feels her heart hiccup at his statement. If she’s not insanely mistaken, it appears to have carried an undertone of dirty intentions. God, she’s praying she’s not mistaken. 

The two girls clamber away on their tall pumps, rounding around Harry and pausing for a moment. They make moaning faces and vulgar motions behind him, encouraging Y/N to pursue the stranger. She then watches them disappear into the throng of crowded bodies, leaving her alone with the beautiful boy and her heart slamming against her ribs. 

Y/N focuses back onto Harry, licking her itching lips lightly, not knowing what to say next as he settles himself beside her. He rests his forearm on the counter along with his drink, tucking his other hand back into  his trouser pocket and fixing himself into a comfortable standing position, crossing his ankles nonchalantly. The friction between his jacket and the bar rides his sleeve up an inch or so, and Y/N gets a view of the anchor tattoo he has along his wrist, as well as the upside-down cross inked between his thumb and index finger. 

Harry catches her looking, mouth twitching with a smidge of arrogant self-assurance. He loves when girls drool over his tats. 

“I have more.” He remarks lightly, a pang of condescending pleasure shooting through his chest at the way she jerks and pins her gaze down to the floor. 

Blood rushes into her cheeks at the realization that she’s been caught and Harry’s teeth grind. It’s so hot watching her fidget for him. Maybe he finds her more attractive than he’d originally let on. “Would you like to see them?”

Y/N timidly coaxes herself into locking stares with him once again, looking up at him from beneath her lashes, barely nodding with a soft, “Sure.” 

She looks so pretty like that, he notices, staring up at him all doe-eyed and shy. It’d probably look even better if she were on her knees.

Yeah, he definitely likes her more than he’d thought. 

Harry proceeds to shift about, shrugging his coat off his strong shoulders, letting it slip down his lean arms and reveal the plethora of dark tattoos strewn across his left arm. Y/N watches avidly, drinking up every flex of his biceps under the black paint and every twitch of his pecs beneath his cotton shirt, the tendons along his throat going taut for just a moment. That moment is enough for her to etch the image into the back of her eyelids for the rest of her life. 

Harry tosses the article onto the table, extending his arm over its surface for her to get a better reading. She doesn’t miss the chance, her pupils tracing over every line and stroke of the pen, over every shaded area and meticulous detail. 

His voice comes out as a low, garbled murmur, his own irises studying her features with just as much intensity. “You can touch them, if you’d like. I don’t mind.”

After a moment of hesitation, the brim of her crystalline cup is replaced by the ridges of his smooth, tanned skin. She drags her digits over the naked mermaid, tracing the curve of her figure and the dip of her tail, then passing onto the stem of the large rose, ghosting over every thorn and prickle. Harry can feel her heartbeat through her fingertips and it’s making him throb. 

“They’re very pretty.” Y/N whispers, allowing her touch to fall away, palm finding refuge across the counter. “Did they hurt?” 

“A bit, yeah. But I’ve gotten so many done that I think I grew numb to the needle after a while.” Harry answers, shrugging one shoulder to show it’s no big deal. He grasps his glass once again and takes a drawn-out swig, extending the action just so she can see the way his Adam’s Apple bobs as he swallows. Once the cup is back in its place, his tongue peeks out and swipes any leftover liquid from his rosy lips, which then settle into a coy simper. “Plus, I kinda like the pain.” 

Y/N’s breathing stutters in her lungs and she swiftly swerves the topic onto something much less explicit. “So why’d you ask if I was the designated driver? That’s kind of an odd question. Very out of the blue.” 

Harry lulls his middle finger across the hem of his glass, exactly how she had been doing earlier, the motion weighed by an innuendo. She seems to understand it, present in how she bites into the inside of her cheek. “I just figured that a pretty girl like you would have easily found someone to dance with. So when I saw you sitting here looking all bored with your drink barely touched…I just assumed, I suppose.” 

And there it is again— the blood pouring into her face. Christ, if she keeps that up, he’s going to fucking lose it.

“Thank you, that’s— that’s really sweet. Proper gentleman.” 

Harry runs his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes snapping to her tinted mouth for a second, establishing some sexual tension that he’ll expand on as they go. “Who doesn’t like a guy who knows how to treat a girl, right?” 

Y/N clears her throat softly, obviously phased by his forward compliment, but she tries to play it off. “To answer your question, I— uhm...I’m not really one for the club scene, I guess. Don’t really like it, but I didn’t want to be rude and turn down the invitation.” 

‘Good girl,’ Harry thinks, silently cheering her on for having more brain cells than the typical human. 

“Well, that’s where we share some common ground, then.” He chimes brightly, a soft smile bringing his dimples to life. “I don’t care for clubs, either, but my friends have an affinity for them so here I am.”

He gestures vaguely towards the general direction where he’d left Mitch, continuing his rant. “The choking smoke, the annoying strobe lights, the crowded floor, the drunk morons—”

“Bumping into you without giving a shit.” Y/N finishes his sentence, her vulgarity drawing a boyish giggle from her companion and now she’s convinced she’d do anything to hear him laugh like that again. “And there’s always a faint smell of vomit coming from somewhere.”

Harry slaps his hand down against the glass table in passionate agreement, voice pitching up slightly as his brows jump in emotion. “Right?! It’s fucking disgusting. Don’t understand how anyone could genuinely enjoy it.” 

Y/N nods vehemently, sharing the same expression of utter distaste towards the subject. “It honestly doesn’t make any sense to me, either. Why come here when you can go to, like, a nice bar somewhere, y’know?”

Harry blinks at her in astonishment, her opinion mirroring his own with psychic-like accuracy. “My thoughts exactly.” 

“Great minds think alike.” Y/N responds playfully, taking a hearty gulp from her drink since the first time he’d spotted her from across the room. 

After a comfortable pause, Harry speaks up, also entertaining another sip from his own drink, which is now nearly empty. “Are you from around here?”

She can’t be. Rarely anyone born and raised here is willing to bash the status quo, and never so openly. 

She’s once again mesmerized by the attractiveness of his rings, but manages to get her composure in check. “Kinda. I moved here about two months ago.” 

Precisely his point.

Harry releases a curious hum over the cup between his lips. “Let me be the one to officially welcome you to Cali, then! Where people go to shitty clubs for fun and tan themselves into a strip of leather.”

Y/N sputters out a half-suppressed giggle and Harry’s brows almost furrow at the weird fluttering in his stomach. He rarely gets it.

Y/N takes another deep gulp of what he thinks is probably an Old Fashioned, silently praising the way she’d finished it off so quickly. She crunches an ice shard between her teeth and lets it melt across her tongue before engaging again. “I’m guessing you’re not from around here either though, are you?”

Now it’s Harry’s turn to chuckle a bit and she fights off an endeared smile. 

“What gave it away?” He asks, purposefully doing a thicker, fuller accent, his teasing nature making the grin she’d just stifled fully break through.

Y/N lifts a shoulder offhandedly. “Your accent seems a little too…posh for this area. Or even this hemisphere.”

Harry scoffs softly, the pinky around his glass sticking up jokingly as he kinks an eyebrow at her, a few rouge curls falling across his forehead. “Keen ears, mate.”

Y/N lifts her drink up a bit with a playfully knowing air, mimicking an English dialect. “Cheers.”

He places his empty cup down on the counter, his middle finger once more ghosting around the edge absentmindedly. She notices the pastel yellow polish covering his nails, tiny black smiley faces decorating the lacquer.

“I like your nails.” She admires, tipping her empty lowball towards his hand for significance. “Did you do them yourself?”

Harry glances at his fingers, stretching and wiggling them out, his features taking on a bit of pride. “Sure did.” 

“Don’t think I’ve ever met a guy at a club who could pull off nail polish so easily.” 

The left edge of his lips flicks upwards. “How do you mean?”

Y/N’s gaze bounces back to his and the tone twirling in his jade irises tells her everything she needs to know about keeping this conversation going: he enjoys being praised. 

She chooses her next words carefully, wanting to appeal to his interests. “I mean that it looks amazing on you. The color suits your skin nicely, makes your hands look good.” 

Harry breaks eye contact, glimpsing down at his shoes and she realizes he’s actually trying to hide a blush. The fact that she had managed to coax one out of him boosts her confidence while simultaneously making his own waver. He’s never like this— never so easily flustered. He needs to get it together.

Harry tilts his chin back up, lower lip strung between his two front teeth. His voice comes out as a flirty laugh.

“Known you for maybe,” he looks at the beautiful watch on his wrist symbolically, “ten minutes, and you’re already stroking my ego just the way I like it. I think that’s a record.” 

Y/N doesn’t know if it’s the liquor she’d just consumed too quickly, or if it’s Harry’s intoxicatingly alluring scent dulling the region of her brain that controls fear, but she’s suddenly filled with a strange surge of courage and her thoughts are spilling down her semi-numb tongue before she can stop them. “I’ve been told I’m pretty good at stroking, so an ego’s not too hard to handle.”

Harry cocks an eyebrow, surprised at her brazen reply. He might have misjudged her more than he assumed. However, he can’t say he doesn’t enjoy this girl more than the one he thought he was going to receive. There’s just something about how she can match his banter without a problem, and how they share a lot of the same thoughts and opinions, that just lights a fire in his stomach. 

“Is that so?” His voice lowers in pitch and he scoots a step closer, fingers just barely brushing against her arm as he repositions himself against the bar. His question comes out as a sultry murmur. “What else can you handle?”

Y/N knows that she’s starting to cross a line, and with every passing moment, the likelihood of returning to her friends is getting smaller and smaller. She’s not mad about it. Riding off of the wave of confidence that had inflated her ego earlier, she mumbles her response back with the same tone and texture. “How about you buy me another drink and then maybe you’ll find out?”

Harry gives her a boyish grin and the indents that pop into his cheeks nudge his appearance from an incredibly attractive man to an adorable cheeky boy. He motions to the bartender for another round of drinks, only letting his eyes flicker away from her for the moment it takes to do it. “How do you like LA so far?”

“It’s...alright.” It’s Y/N’s turn to move closer to him now, flicking her hair off her shoulder, hoping that the motion releases the perfume she’d dabbed on her neck while getting ready. Judging by the darkening of Harry's eyes, it does just that. “It’s definitely a change in pace from where I used to live, but I think I’m slowly gaining the reigns. I feel like once I get acquainted, I could grow to love it.”

“LA’s definitely a toggle. You could either vibe with it, or it’ll eat you alive and spit you back out.” 

She bats her lashes at him in stunned fright at his bluntness, his face deadly serious without any twitch or give. 

Harry then bursts into high-pitched laughter, eyes crinkling shut and nose scrunching. “I’m just fucking with you, love. Ease up, hm?”

“You asshole!” Y/N exhales grandly, half in relief and half in indignation, slugging him on the shoulder. All she feels is hard muscle beneath. 

He continues to cackle, sticking his tongue out at her. “Looked like you were about to cry.” 

“It definitely crossed my mind, yeah!”

The bartender arrives with their fresh drinks and Harry tells the man to but both of Y/N’s on his tab. She feels her cheeks glow, telling him he doesn’t have to, but he waves it off and says he’s more than happy to serve such a nice girl as herself. Especially if she “hates the same things I do. Think of it as your initiation gift into the Anti-Club Club.” 

A handful of heartbeats tick by, full of comfortable quietness as they both savor their new beverages. Harry pipes up first, regaining their topic from before.

“But, yeah, Cali’s for sure a special place. You meet some cool people if you hang around for a while. But sometimes,” he pauses for a second, eyes gleaming with something she can’t quite interpret. “But sometimes you can meet a really interesting person in just one night.” 

“I don’t doubt it.” Y/N clicks her nails against her Old Fashioned distractedly as Harry fixes her with that beautiful emerald gaze that makes her ears tingle. She cocks her head to the side knowingly, flashing him a soft smirk. “Sometimes, you just happen to meet that one in a million.”

“A lucky strike.” He adds, lifting his tequila an inch off the counter and tilting it towards her in what appears to be a toast, irises dancing with a certain type of suggestive mischief. “To meeting interesting people.”

The human girl clinks the rim of her lowball to the edge of his cup, shrugging her brows and reciting his comment back to him. “To meeting interesting people.” 

Y/N measures how the rest of their interaction goes by how quickly her drink shrinks. 

When she reaches down to the first ice cube stacked on top, Harry has managed to coax multiple rounds of laughter out of her, his humor startlingly similar to her’s in the most refreshing way imaginable. She quickly learns that despite his broad shoulders, lean torso, dark inking, and flawless features, he’s a complete and total dork. His personality consists mainly of voice impersonations and contorting his expression into an endless array of silly faces, which she takes to easily.

By the time Y/N’s amber drink has reached halfway down its container, the default touch barrier between the two has broken completely. There had been a few caresses prior, but now it’s more frequent, more noticeable, and each touch extends in time. She had been the one to initiate getting physical, which had sat so right in her stomach because that meant he was respectful and patient— definitely unlike most men in clubs. 

The mortal girl had gently shoved Harry’s chest when he’d made an nonchalant joke about how losing his swim trunks at a nude beach had been both the best and worst experience of his life, her cheeks boiling as she had felt nothing but more toned muscle beneath the cotton fabric of his top. She had gone back to tracing at his tattoos the further they got into sharing anecdotes and opinions, glancing up at him for permission in the middle of their exchange and smiling to herself when he’d nodded casually without a second thought. As the conversations continue, they both unintentionally get closer in distance to the point where the arm Harry had settled on the bar is now fully wrapped around the small of her back. She willingly leans into him, their knees and thighs brushing with every shift of their bodies and those minute moments begin to pile up their excitement.

By the time the alcohol in her possession bottoms out, she is nearly sitting in his lap, faces only a few inches apart. Y/N can’t recall half of what she had said, the subject having steered into so many different places that she couldn’t be bothered to keep track. Besides, she’s too focused on trying to keep a straight face as Harry plays footsie with her below the counter, his light yellow sneaker toying with her heeled velvet wedge. 

An important question on his behalf snaps Y/N out of her flirty stupor.

“So how do you like your new home?”

She blinks at him slowly, partially to try and give a seductive tinge to the interaction and partially because the liquor has started to truly settle in. It takes her a few heartbeats to process the inquiry. “I love it, actually. It’s a place of my own, for the first time ever. I couldn’t be happier.”

The corners of Harry’s swollen lips tick in genuine happiness on her behalf. “That sounds amazing. Congratulations on such a big step.” 

“Thank you! What about yourself? Renting anything neat?”

“Oh, I own a condo here.” He mentions casually, outlining the criss-cross pattern along the circumference of his highball glass. “I used to visit so often that I finally just decided to pull the trigger on one.”

“Look at you, investing in real estate.” She says in a teasing voice, her heel grazing around his calf slowly, cheeks sizzling as he parts his legs a bit to allow her the pleasure of traveling higher up.

“Mmhm.” Harry licks his red lips, free hand starting to trace over her own. The tips of his fingers are calloused and cold, the motion of them over her skin almost pulling a tremble out of her body. She does her best to restrain it, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. “Is it nice?” 

“Hm?”

His lips twitch in endearment at how he’s managing to make her lose her train of thought. “Your apartment, darling.”

She rests the rim of her drink on the bottom of her lip as she speaks. “It’s nothing huge or fancy, but it’s a decent size and l can call it home. Can’t get much better than that.”

Y/N loves how Harry's eyes flit to her lips for what she thinks is the billionth time tonight, his vision sketching along the curve of her cupid’s bow and dotting every peak.

Another warm glow of confidence spikes through her veins and she’s talking before she can analyze her thoughts. “Well, at least I think it can’t get much better than that. Although, I could just be biased. Could probably use an outside opinion.” 

It takes Harry a moment to register what she’s suggesting, a light blush creeping up the base of his neck as he realizes how he’s stopped so abruptly. Humans usually never get him this unnerved and it’s one of many times she’s made it happen. “An outside opinion?”

Y/N lists her head to the side. It sounds like he’s accepting the vague invitation, but she’s so anxious to mess this up that she’s second guessing herself with every passing second. However, with every touch, she wants Harry more and more, and that’s enough to propel her towards a more direct approach. “Mmhm. Like yours, maybe. Would you like to come back and see it?”

Harry pauses for a few of her heartbeats, and then bobs his head in acceptance. She can breath again. 

He finishes off the last inch or so of his tequila, a wicked grin creeping its way across his pretty, flushed mouth, long fingers carding into his loosely arranged curls. “I’m more than happy to be of service.”

A smile works its way onto Y/N’s own face at his response, her foot dropping back down his leg slowly. “I’m glad to hear.”

“Mm.” Harry takes her hand completely now and she almost moans at how much bigger his are, his rings pinching a bit, skin rough in some areas, but silky smooth in others. And strangely icy, but she enjoys it. “Shall we say goodbye to your friends first? I wouldn’t want them to worry about you.”

He knows her “friends” couldn’t care less, but he wants to be as much of a gentleman as possible. Romanticize, romanticize, romanticize.

Y/N snorts, knowing full well that they’d probably purposefully embarrass her in front of him as a joke. 

She squeezes his grasp lightly, giving him a soft smile. “You’re sweet, but it’s fine. They were actually behind you earlier, encouraging this whole thing, so I’m pretty sure they won’t mind.” 

Harry hums deep in the back of his throat and the sound melts into a cute chuckle. “I’m glad they helped, then. Think you can deliver them my thanks some other time?”

The young woman chews on the inside of her cheek at his comment, realizing that it suggests he aims on keeping her occupied for the rest of the night and well into the morning. She has to will herself not to lurch forward and kiss at his annoyingly perfect lips right then and there. “I’ll make sure to pass the message along.” 

With one last cocky simper, Harry helps her down from the stool and pays off their tab, offering her his jacket since most of her outfit is made of flimsy fabrics. Y/N takes it appreciatively, lashes fluttering when his scent envelopes her like a blanket. It’s the unique smokiness from his cologne, mixed with a slightly sweeter smell that she assumes is his shampoo, and a bit of something that reminds her of a vanilla candle. The aromas are sewn into every thread of his coat and she can’t wait to have those scents glued all over her more deliberately later tonight.  

Harry turns and plunges them into the throng of partiers, weeding through bodies with a type of determination that makes her insides twist. His arm comes up in front of him as he plows people out of the way with absolutely no regret, leaving her to throw out a few half-assed apologies in his wake. The idea that he’s excited to be alone with her has Y/N’s insides churning. 

Once they escape all of the grinding limbs and tight spaces, stumbling into the cool air of the starry night, she takes a huge gulp of air. She prays it will tide over the jitters running along the inside of her tummy. She has just now realized how riled up he’d gotten her and it’s all coming to a raging boil. 

Harry paces past the bouncer, throwing up two fingers in parting. “Later, Brock.” 

The security guard gives the young vampire a confused look, not recognizing him at all and wondering how he knows his name. 

Y/N repeats Harry’s phrase for the hell of it, squeezing his hand jestingly and he glimpses over his shoulder, grinning at her with sheer amusement and something much deeper swirling around the specks of copper in his irises. If there was a bit more light, perhaps she would have noticed the way his irises had glinted blood red instead of olive green.

She ogles at the way his back muscles shift and flex below his pastel blue shirt, her mind vaguely taking note of the light yellow detailings along the cuffs and collar. The tee is intriguing and fun and she hopes he’ll let her sleep in it after they’re done. 

She also gets distracted by the baby curls decorating the nape of his neck. She’s itching to tug at them and see what his response would be. Would he shiver in her grasp and let out a soft moan, or would he smirk darkly and tell her to go harder?

Harry suddenly halts, snapping her out of her thoughts as he presents his car. Y/N’s jaw nearly falls off. “This is yours?!”

She gawks at the vintage jet black convertible before her, feeling like she isn’t worthy of its chic presence. It looks new, shining in the street lamps like a thousand diamonds, not a scratch or dent in sight. 

Harry unlocks the passenger’s door, opening it and guiding her inside with a gentle pull at their clasped hands, shrugging his brows playfully. “Hope it’s not too shabby for your liking.”  

“Are you kidding?” The human mumbles in awe as she ducks down into the patented leather seat, running her free hand over the elegant cover. She sighs softly at the way his smell is lingering inside the vehicle, just as much as it sticks to his clothes. “I feel like I should bow to it or something.”

He laughs fully now, leaning down to get a view of her sitting prim and proper in his favorite car, looking gorgeous in her flowy silk pants, lace creme blouse, and his own clothes. He gnaws at his bottom lip to withhold a needy groan. “I think you fit right in.” 

Y/N feels warmth erupt into her face and she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, trying to distract her fingers from shaking. “Looks like I’m not the only one that’s good at stroking egos.”

“S’hardly a task. You make it easy, doll.” 

It’s the second pet name he’s called her tonight— it’s strangely vintage, same as his car— and she can’t wait to hear what others he has in store. Preferably in the form of breathy pants and broken whines.

Y/N flicks her gaze up at him through heavy lashes, attempting to stifle a sheepish smile. “Quite the charmer.”

A moment of silence suspends in the air, a light breeze filtering through Harry’s curls, swaying the jewelry around his neck as well as the earring hanging from his lobe. Harry speaks up with a type of hushed desire she hadn’t heard from him yet. “Can I kiss you?”

She blinks up at him once in mild surprise and then releases a sigh of utter relief. “Fuck, I thought you’d never ask.” 

Her hand reaches upwards outside the confines of the car, knitting into the thick fabric of his shirt and yanking him down. The second their mouths meet, it sets off a dozen fireworks in the pit of her stomach. His is softer than she had imagined, wet and warm, and his tongue carries the sourness of the tequila he’d been swishing the whole night. 

Harry’s breath hitches in his throat, and then a quiet whimpery moan streams down his tongue onto her itchy skin. “Christ, that was hot.”

As much as she loves the taste of him— the tartness of the alcohol mixed with an inherent sweetness his lips carry— she forces herself to pull away, but keeps her sweaty forehead pressed to his. “Yeah. It was.”

With one hand still gripping the car door, Harry uses his other to cup her chin lightly, guiding her into another kiss. Now that they have both developed a feel for the other, this one is less tentative than the last. She tastes so fucking good on his tongue, like strawberry syrup—probably from her lipgloss— orange bitters, and bourbon. He just has to have more of it.

A helpless gasp escapes Y/N when Harry's teeth graze against her upper lip, only nipping enough that she craves more. More of anything he has to offer. 

He pulls away and the whine that plucks her vocal chords feeds his eternal soul like nothing else has in a while.  

The young man grins at her for a moment, half in smug satisfaction, half red-faced and desperate, before carefully closing the car door and making his way to the driver’s side. He slides in with ease, shuts his own door and buckles up with a click of the belt. The simple action has never looked so attractive before, but she’s certain that anything Harry does with his ring-covered hands would be attractive.  

He fishes his keys from his front pocket, asking her where she lives in order to try and orient himself. As it turns out, she’s not too far away from his own flat. He knows exactly which condominium she’s referring to without having to even search it up— a perk of living here for a few decades.

He also chuckles to himself a bit at the fact that she hadn’t mentioned he shouldn’t drive under the influence. Vampires have an extremely high tolerance due to their self-healing properties, so the drinks he’d had only gave him a soft, warm buzz. He just finds it comical— and slightly arousing— that she’s so eager to get at him that she’d let that detail slip her mind.

Harry starts the car, but doesnt pull out of the parking spot. Instead, he glances at Y/N as a crease appears in his beautifully sculpted brows. The idea of something displeasing him bothers her, and she’s about to ask what it is when he murmurs a quick, “Just a second, dove.” He reaches across to grab her seatbelt, pulling it over her body and securing it into place on her behalf, making sure it’s nice and proper before leaning back in his seat. He doesn’t know why he cared to do it, but he had. 

The simple action leaves another layer of heat on Y/N’s cheeks. Having him bent over her like that was just a teaser of what was going to unfold later and it already has her mind spinning. She can only imagine how much of a mess he’s going to leave her when there’s no clothes restraining them.

“Thanks.” She whispers, playing with the tips of her fingers.

“No need to thank me. Just wanna keep that pretty face in one piece.” 

He plops one hand on the steering wheel as he shifts into reverse, carefully backing out of his spot. His arm ducks behind her seat, head turning and veins chiseling into his neck. It takes all of Y/N’s willpower not to lean up and begin to darken his tanned skin with hickeys. 

Harry cruises up to the exit of the club parking lot, waiting impatiently for the turn signal, digits tapping away at the leather below them. Y/N can see him throwing pained little glances at her from her peripheral vision, obviously restless to feel her skin sliding against his. Each look causes the warmth between her thighs to swell. 

She’s talking before she can stop herself, voice bashful and soft as ever, yet full of boldness from the liquor she’d consumed. “If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to do something to you that’s gonna get us both killed.”

The tapping of his fingers halts and he cranes his head to face her fully, ignoring the flashing green arrow on the stoplight before them. 

Harry reaches over the center console, his nose dragging up the length of her cheekbone, causing her to squeak out a tiny whimper at the feathery sensation. It’s the first time tonight he’s touched her so intimately. 

The sentence he grits out next makes her entire body visibly shutter, his breath hot against her ear, damp lips smearing over her jaw as his oath burns into her flesh.

“And if you say something like that to me again, I promise you I’ll pull this car over and make you eat every fucking word.” 

[plounce]

what if gay CATS........... were gay PERSONS

(info on this au under the cut)

theyre all shitty young adults just kind of. getting through their early 20s as best they can. or as much as they can. maybe things will get better someday, but right now they’re kind of spinning their wheels

magic exists but like eh it’s not a big thing don’t worry about it. it’s around but like whatever. not many people have it and it’s mostly just like. a curiosity or a party trick

demeter and bombularina are together, tugger and mistoffelees are together, bombularina and tugger occasionally fwb, it’s cool and aboveboard and it’s all fine

demeter:

bisexual with a preference for women. 24 years old

semi-psychic (not as powerful as tantomile or coricopat). tends to have vague and confusing prophetic dreams

dropped out of grad school for sociology due to trauma and ensuing intensified mental illness. kind of bitter about it, but tries to get through every day. general anxiety disorder even before all that

very nervous around most men she doesn’t know & trust

currently working at a barnes & noble starbucks, which sucks. she recently became the assistant manager, which turbo sucks because now she has more work for only like a buck raise, but at least she’s getting reliable shifts

her go-to therapy is cutting her hair with scissors. her hair is fried to all hell from regular bleaching

she’s learning how to crochet because she’s decided she needs to do something physically productively creative with her hands to distract herself from Stuff

bombalurina:

bisexual. 24 years old

got her bachelor’s in english two years ago and hasn’t found a job in her field and has kind of given up on it for now

she’s been bartending for like four years, does freelance editing work on the side. will occasionally write listicles for clickbait sites if she needs extra cash

literally any extra money she can save goes to tattoos. her right sleeve’s almost done

has natural red hair but dyes it cherry red

a hedonist to cope but is also just a natural hedonist. likes a good bath

i know that like the typical thing fandoms say about female characters is “doesn’t take shit” for the girlboss points but she truly does not take shit anymore. she used to take people’s shit sometimes but at this point in her life she’s tired and she has a girlfriend to be protective of. she has a couple people whose shit she will take (mostly just tugger) but besides them (and having to practice basic customer service to keep her job) she’s tired of other people’s shit! enough!

my personal take on bombalurina is a mix between the riot grrrls of the 90s and 80s punk girls, and then a dash of the greaser chicks from grease. i saw that spiked collar and my brain went OH okay i can run with this somewhere fun. same for demeter, but less so - she just has the piercings.

demelurina:

bombalurina met demeter in college at a women’s activism club, noticed her because of her dimple piercings and was like “oh someone else with a lot of metal in her face, i’ll sit next to her”

they were each other’s first off-campus roommates and were close friends. made out a couple times, but it was mostly a lot of sexual tension. there was a lot of bombalurina staring at demeter while she or demeter made out with someone else

demeter was on and off with her high school boyfriend munkustrap and bombalurina was like “oh he’s so much more stable/calm than me and she needs that, i party a bit too much for her, i shouldn’t try anything” so she just sort of. lets their almost-there peter off

(this is all bombalurina’s internal thoughts - demeter always was interested in her, but thought she was too boring for bombalurina. so neither of them thought they could pursue it)

bombalurina graduated and moved somewhere cheaper further away from campus. they kind of drift apart

munkustrap and demeter peter off and he moves away for a job (they’re still good friends, it was a very amicable breakup) and then demeter gets with macavity, which is a deeply toxic situation for her and sucks hugely and throws her whole life really off track. won’t go into further details

she finally manages to break up with him and calls bombalurina at like 2 am asking if she can pick her up, and also if she can sleep on her couch, it’s okay if that’s not okay, she just. really needs a place she feels safe, and her gut is telling her to. and of course bombalurina says yes

bombalurina also knew macavity and had also made out a couple times with him at like parties and stuff (see: staring at demeter as she makes out with people). something about transference of feelings - bombalurina was into him for a couple moments because he and demeter had a thing.

this is due to me interpreting the song “macavity” as actually about bombalurina wanting to fuck demeter and her singing as a half-repressed expression of that. i use my really good wlw brain to reach that conclusion. it’s kind of a non-competitive version of eve sedgwick’s take on the love triangle. (<-- normal thing to say)

but anyway demeter stays on bombalurina’s couch and she tries so hard to stay on track but eventually she just has to drop out. bombalurina helps her with that too. she’s just really supportive even as demeter’s life is at its lowest point. when she gets home from bartending she gets demeter to go to sleep

she just Stays with her and makes her smile and reminds her that her life isn’t over, there’s still things in her day to enjoy, to keep her trudging forward

bombalurina is roommates with tugger at this point - he also recently dropped out and demeter knows him because he’s munkustrap’s brother, so he’s Trusted and also is like “hey it’s okay that you dropped out, im here and im chilling and you like me and respect me at least a little, and you have a bachelor’s degree at least!” (more on him later)

demeter is like “oh god ive been crashing at their place for so long not paying rent, theyre gonna ask me to leave, im such a freeloader, they wont take my attempts at paying rent” but then bombalurina and tugger are like “hey! the lease is almost up! we found a pretty good 3 bedroom, do you wanna have your own room for real?” and she nearly cries because 1. the RELIEF 2. oh my god you want me around???

cut to bombalurina helping demeter put together an ikea dresser (tugger got banished to the kitchen to make crystal light lemonade for them because he’s useless with a screwdriver) and demeter has two epiphanies:

1. i thought i was ready to d*e four months ago and here i am making a dresser to put clothes into in my new apartment where i live and feel safe and loved. im still not happy but im still alive and im making a dresser

2. holy fuck im back in love with my best friend, and ten times more than i was back then.

so she like kind of freaks out because she’s already imposed so much on bombalurina, how could she impose her FEELINGS on her like this, oh no oh no oh no

meanwhile bombalurina’s back in love with her even MORE and she’s also like no... she’s already dealing with so much... i don’t want to make her uncomfortable or feel unsafe in her own home especially after her recent relationship trauma... i just want her to feel safe around me...

you might think tugger as their roommate would be like “JUST KISS” but he is in fact pretty oblivious because he is self-absorbed. mistoffelees on the other hand..

eventually they do have a big confession of feelings after demeter has a bad day and it’s very dramatic and they make out in the rain. and it’s like. well this is a movie scene. but also im cold and damp. let’s head inside our home and get warm and dry :)

and then they go inside and and talk through everything, all their feelings (not just their romantic feelings but like ALL their feelings) and their shared histories and bombalurina is like “do you think you’re... ready for a relationship right now? like that would be a good thing for you?”

and demeter considers it. she does stop and think. and then she says, “with anyone else... probably not. but it’s you. and i feel so safe around you, and we’re already so close. you make the future feel more worth it. you make more days alive feel not just tolerable, but something to look forward to. and knowing you’ve loved me all this time... it’s nice. it’s good. i’m - i’m understating it so much, it’s more than nice, it’s just - it’s a lot. i wish i had noticed back then.” “hey, hey, don’t blame yourself. i’m the one who never said anything.”

anyway. everything works out, and they start dating for real :)

tugger:

bisexual. 22 years old

dishwasher at the same bar bombalurina works at. she got him the job. he keeps bugging her to teach him bartending tricks and on slow nights she will agree to

he dropped out of their four year, but he managed to secure an associate’s in communications before he dipped

trying to be an ig influencer hotboy and hopefully get modeling jobs from that but his phone’s camera sucks shit so his account isn’t really going anywhere. but he continues to post his low resolution shirtless selfies

trying to cope with being the failure son who does not have a fancy nonprofit job with a salary and healthcare by being self-absorbed and self-aggrandizing

it works about 60% of the time and 60% of the times that it doesn’t he’s able to hide it

he dropped out right around when bombalurina graduated and he was like HEY! ARE YOU LOOKING FOR A ROOMMATE WHO DOESN’T CARE IF WE LIVE TEN MILES AWAY FROM CAMPUS? WELL HAVE I GOT A SOLUTION FOR YOU: ME!

to which bombalurina (who has fooled around with him here and there and thinks he is funny little man and genuinely goodhearted, and also he has rockin abs as a plus) says munkustrap already asked me if i need a roommate and if i do to consider you, because you don’t want to move back home. in other words: yes, you little idiot

they do fool around with each other but they are both very understanding that it is strictly platonic and for fun, especially once they become roommates. they both do not desire each other for anything serious

he did have a bit of a crush on each other when they met (hot punk older girl who’s friends with his brother) but 1. it dissipated pretty quick after they fooled around for the first time because it was not a very serious crush 2. she was in the middle of being in love with demeter so she was focused on that, emotionally

he got his ears pierced a couple times in high school but bombalurina inspired him to get a couple more. she went with him when he got his nose pierced

demeter has always understood that him and bombalurina are strictly fwb, has never been an issue.

she and him like to bleach their hair together when their hair schedules line up (he bleaches his way less often then she does), but she refuses to use his fancy conditioner that keeps his hair unfried because it’s expensive, even though he tells her to go ahead and use it, please, the health of her hair is giving HIM anxiety, demeter please. please demeter

mistoffelees:

gay. 20 years old

has magic. it’s pretty good magic but again: magic is not a big deal in this concept

a bit spooky. skulks around. a bit of a bitch but also very very nice. chooses when to speak

he has postings on craigslist and fiverr about finding lost objects and people with magic. like a gig economy private detective

side job is a waiter at a fancy restaurant

sometimes he gets paid VERY well from the private detecting, depending on the client. he does ask his psychic friends (tantomile & coricopat) to give a quick glance over on some of the more suspicious clients just to make sure he isn’t finding someone who should not be found by that person.

doesn’t go to college. is roommates with his sister victoria, who’s a freshman and studying dance. moved into town with her so she wouldn’t have to live in the dorms by having a guaranteed roommate.

tuggoffelees:

the general vibe i want for these two is mistoffelees walking around town or driving around in his shitty toyota camry while tugger tags along because he’s bored and thinks this is cool as shit

the general tone of the au is “magic isn’t a big deal” except for tugger, who thinks mistoffelees’ magic and his magic freelancing is the coolest shit ever. this is mostly because he just likes mistoffelees. “there are people who can do cooler shit than me, tug” “yeah but i don’t KNOW them also theyre not as COOL as you” “you had to explain to me how instagram reels work”

idk how they met i just think tugger shows up at his and bombalurina’s apartment one day (this is when demeter has moved in but they havent moved to the 3br yet) with this dude to dash in and pick something up and bombalurina is like “uh. who’s this” “oh this is mistoffelees he’s SO GOOD AT MAGIC” [mistoffelees nods hello] “okay bye bombalurina see you at work!!!” “uh. later”

after that he just shows up a lot. sort of ambiguous if theyre dating or what for a while before bombalurina straight up asks like “hey does the dude you’re dating know we fool around” “the dude im - what?” “... the little magic guy who keeps using our hot cocoa mix. misty.” “oh. uh. we aren’t dating.” “... do you want to? because you’re kind of all over him constantly” “um. well! haha, if i wanted to, i could! haha!” “yeah get back to me on that”

tugger trying to use his ig clout to get mistoffelees more work even though 1. he has no clout 2. mistoffelees has a very stable client base. but mistoffelees appreciates the effort. the self-promo guy promoing someone other than himself... the highest expression of love...

mistoffelees is A Nonthreatening Man plus he’s pretty obviously gay so demeter is chill around him pretty quickly. when mistoffelees is over they’ll sit on the couch where demeter sleeps and watch documentaries quietly while she crochets

they both occasionally say spooky shit at the same time because magic stuff. bombalurina and tugger are both torn between “that was cool as fuck” and “god that’s unnerving”

just a lot of tugger following mistoffelees around on his jobs and mistoffelees letting him because he’s fond of him and them occasionally getting into minor peril and interesting shenanigans, but it is 90% fetch quests

i think the first time they met tugger was taking selfies in front of a hydrangea in a public park and he saw mistoffelees walk up with a shovel and start digging in one of the flower beds and he thought he was hot so he went over and offered to take over on the shoveling to look strong and masculine and he ended up digging up a skull, which mistoffelees picked up and said “thanks” and then walked away

mildly terrifying but also very interesting and tugger’s days are kind of boring and dishwashing kind of sucks as a job to do like every night and he is a person who thrives on novelty so. moth to a porchlight

i think they do start making out for fun here and there and then a while later theyre out on one of mistoffelees’ jobs and someone asks “who’s the guy with you” and mistoffelees replies “oh that’s my boyfriend, don’t worry about him” and then it’s like. “HUH? I’M YOUR BOYFRIEND?” “uh. yeah? i assumed. is that okay?” “i mean yeah of course i think you’re great! how long have we–” “oh like a while.” “oh. uh. cool!!”

they just hang out a lot. mistoffelees enjoys teasing him and enjoys his warmth and bombasticity and tugger likes watching and helping him solve little mysteries around the county because it’s always something new. they’re kind of a comedy duo. they just enjoy spending their time together and following mistoffelee’s internal magic gps to find lost dogs and lost necklaces

yeah right now this au is just vibes and just sort of. continuing forward with your days and your weeks and your months. just young adults hanging out

[destielharlequinchallenge]

The Destiel Harlequin Challenge Master Post: 2020 Mega Bang

Participants in the 2020 Destiel Harlequin Challenge completed an amazing 20 fics and 3 sets of artwork! You can learn all about those here!

Spectre (fic by a_dusky_gold, art by aceriee)

This whole thing… this was supposed to be a fucking farce. A way to keep Nicholas Vaught occupied until the deadline he’d given Dean would run out, and he’d still get the money to send Dad to the Town Hall rehabilitation for alcoholism, because that was the goddamned deal.

There were no such things as ghosts or magic or a Book of Life. Dean knows, okay? He wasn’t the Army’s goddamned Mystery Raider for nothin’; he knows history, he knows artifacts, and he knows that the Book of Life is an ancient myth that is about as real as werewolves or vampires.

And yet.

“The Book of Life,” the man had said. Dean can’t even remember his name.

Shit, shit, shit.

Dangerous Ground by Amethystaris

Special Agents for the Department of Diplomatic Security, Castiel Novak and Dean Winchester have been partners and best friends for three years, but everything changed the night Cas admitted the truth about his feelings for Dean. And when Cas was shot a few hours later, Dean felt his reluctance to get involved was vindicated.

Can a camping trip in the High Sierras save their partnership?

Honour Undressed by andimeantittosting

Among his friends, Castiel, Lord Milton is everyone’s confidant and, along with his trusted valet, the fixer of problems. But there is one secret Castiel has never shared: he is in love with his valet and has been for years.

Born in the gutters, Dean Winchester was assigned as Castiel’s batman in the war, and when Castiel travelled home to take up his title, Dean followed him as his valet. To assist Castiel, Dean is not above a little burglary or blackmail. But the one thing he wants for himself is Castiel’s heart.

When Castiel’s closest friends become the target of a blackmailer, certain truths come out. But while Dean determines to seduce Castiel, Castiel is adamant that he must resist, for if there is one rule a gentleman must follow, it is never to dally with his servant.

Havenport by BlueMasquerade

Castiel cleared space on his desk by the expedience of sweeping the previous contents to the side. He set the bundle down in the center of the surface and studied the knots in the rope before expertly untying them.

The book was old, its leather bindings cracked and crumbling. He carefully opened the cover to reveal the pages within, each hand cut, the edges beautifully deckled, the text written in pen and ink.

“This is written in ancient Enochian.” Castiel looked up, gaze narrowed. “Where did you obtain a book written in ancient Enochian?”

“Is that what it is? All I could tell is that it sure as hell isn’t English.” Mr. Winchester grinned, a dimple flashing in his cheek.

an aching in my heart by contemplativepancakes

When Dean’s best friend dies, leaving behind her daughter, Dean knows he has what it takes to give Claire the life she deserves. The problem is, they’re not related by blood, and Claire’s long lost uncle gets called to take her in. Castiel Novak was bad news when he was in highschool with Dean, and judging by his blue hair and tattoo sleeves, nothing’s changed. Castiel ran out on his family once before, and there’s no way Dean’s going to let that happen to Claire without putting up a fight.

Fools and Fate by Danica_Dust

Castiel Novak fled his coven to escape the rigid, predetermined Fate laid out for him within its confines. Desperate and alone, he took shelter in the city of Sacriloga, forsaking all magic and living off whatever he could steal. There, witches like Cas are hunted. They are feared. And they are burned.

When Jack, a young witch also on the run from his own coven, seeks out Cas’ aid, however, Cas finds that he cannot reject the boy, leaving him to his sure destruction. Especially after the newest visitor to Sacriloga makes his presence known: the legendary Hunter, Dean Winchester, who has been following Jack’s trail.

Sworn to the Men of Letters, Hunters live by one principle: thou shalt not suffer a witch to live. Dean’s path was never meant to cross with Cas', but a desperate stunt and a single mistake forces them into an impossible union—holy matrimony.

The war between the witches and the Men of Letters is an ancient one and Cas' most dangerous enemies bring a Fate worse than fire. Unable to ignore his growing feelings, yet powerless to change what he is, a choice must be made.

A suffocating Fate on one hand. A precarious freedom on the other. And in between, the kind of love that makes fools of us all.

Ozone by Deancebra

A young magic user who wants desperately to live. A jaded recluse who has forgotten what living means. They’re each other’s only chance.

Dean’s wild magic is killing him. The mage guilds have given up on him, and it’s only a matter of time before he dies in a spectacular, catastrophic bang. His only hope is an exiled wizard who lives in seclusion—and is rumored to have lost his mind.

The years alone on his hilltop estate have not been good for Castiel Novak. After the magical accident that disfigured him and nearly destroyed the village, he drifts through his days, a wraith trapped in memories and depression. Until a stricken young man collapses on his driveway, one who claims Castiel is his last chance. For the first time in fifteen years, Castiel must make a choice—leave this wild mage to his fate or take him in and try to teach him, which may kill them both. The old Castiel, brash and commanding, wouldn’t have hesitated. Castiel the exile isn’t sure he can find the energy to try.

A Demon Like Him by EllenOfOz

Dean Winchester doesn’t want to be a warlock. The idea of working in a lab, channeling demonic magic into enchanted batteries is not what he wants to do with his life, but it’s a dangerous opinion to have—his father was a powerful and well-connected warlock, and Dean is expected to follow the family tradition.

His only way out is to fail the demon summoning class—failure means expulsion from the Warlock College. Despite Dean’s best efforts to fumble the summoning, it works. Although not the way anyone expects.

Dean’s demon, Castiel, is an incubus, but also a powerful mage on a mission to rebalance the magic that is being stripped from Demonside by warlocks.

Dean must choose: fail out of his final exam and turn his back on becoming a warlock, or help Castiel and graduate. But he doesn’t count on how hot the incubus is, or how close they have become in just a few days.

A Working Relationship by fangirlingtodeath513

The homes that Castiel Novak designs for Angelic Houses are to die for. They’re pristine, perfectly designed and organized, and they’ve caused more than a few bidding wars. It’s the perfect job—he’s organized, good with math, and he’s able to pick up on design trends relatively quickly. The only thing that isn’t perfect? His obnoxious older brother, Luke. Castiel’s been vying for a position on a flipping team for years now, but Luke has never even considered it. When a lecherous gossip reporter overhears an argument, they receive an offer they can’t refuse.

They’re invited to compete on Flip Off, a competition where two people flip houses and compete for the highest profit. Castiel wants the leverage a win would bring him, but he also wants to prove himself. Enter Dean Winchester, a contractor with his own team and one that’s blissfully unconnected to Angelic Houses, allowing Castiel to prove himself without any help from the family company.

The undeniable attraction between them certainly doesn’t help matters, but Castiel is resolute in his decision to make a move only after they’ve finished working together. At least, that had been his plan until Dean made him an offer he simply couldn’t refuse.

Crashing In by followyourenergy

Castiel Novak is convinced he’s the last unwillingly single person in Lupine Cove. Even Gabriel, his perpetual bachelor brother, has found love. It’s probably because Cas leads the most boring life in existence. He’s a gay man living in a rented, one-room cottage in the same small coastal town he grew up in, just getting by as the owner of the same convenience store he was practically raised in. The most excitement he gets is chatting with the locals or maybe, if he’s unlucky, oversleeping and rushing to work. So when a baby is left at the Safe Haven drop-off at the local fire station, he takes the opportunity to step in for the child temporarily, at least until suitable parents, plural, can be found.

Life certainly gets more interesting.

And it gets even more interesting when a handsome man comes crashing—literally—into his life.

Make Me Believe by GhoulsnHalos

Ten years ago, Castiel Novak’s stepfather disowned him, taking from him his place as hereditary heir to the head of the Hunter and Warrior Guild. Now, he’s a self-made, and celebrated, master gem and metal smith. Castiel doesn’t believe that the God’s decide your soulmate. Until he designs what can only be a gift fit for his soul mate, who in contradiction to the etiquette, if not the laws of Neffroen, must be a man.

Dean Winchester is convinced that he is a lowly, dumbass, no magic hunter who couldn’t possibly be on the same social scale as a Novak. So, why is it when he spots the jewelled torc in Castiel’s shop, Dean develops an obsession over the neckpiece and its creator? It can't be anything to do with the will of the Gods, no matter what anyone says, because that's baloney and Dean's not into men.

When Castiel’s long-lost brother turns up and suggests he ought to challenge their stepfather and that Dean is destined to help Castiel rule the clan, Castiel takes some convincing. The real problem is Dean. Can Castiel with the help of family and friends convince Dean of his place by Castiel’s side? Can Dean play the part everyone expects of him to help Castiel regain his rightful place in society?

Shielded Heart by JuniperJones

Arthos, the Infinite City, is a place of alien wonders and indescribable beauty—and, most importantly for Dean, it’s also halfway across the universe from his abusive ex-fiancé. He came to the city desperate for a fresh start, but he finds himself downtrodden on a world of aloof alien beings with little hope of finding his place—and a good chance of being kidnapped or killed before he can even settle in.

At least until he is saved by an irresistible alien with piercing eyes and a seductive smile.

Castiel is the living embodiment of temptation, and he makes no effort to disguise his desire for Dean. But when his past threatens to drag Dean into a dangerous underworld, Dean discovers Castiel isn’t who he claims to be. After enduring so much suffering, can Dean bear to take a leap of faith with this mysterious alien? Can he trust Castiel with not only his life, but his heart?

Stumble and Fall by Kitmistry

Castiel was raised to do one thing: serve his country, whether that was fighting a war or becoming an expert spy. But when his lover is charged with treason and executed Castiel defects. He has evidence that can destroy the KGB’s entire spy ring in New Mexico, he has names of scientists involved with atomic weapons who send information to the Soviets, and he won’t stop until he has revenge.

Putting all his trust in the Americans, Castiel finds himself under the protection of U.S. Marshal Dean Winchester, who is too cocky and attractive for his own good, but at least seems to know what he’s doing.

When a routine transfer to a safehouse goes horribly wrong, Castiel and Dean narrowly escape with their lives. With the Marshals compromised and Castiel being framed for murder, he and Dean are on the run from KGB and law enforcement alike. They have no one to trust except each other, and nowhere to go that their enemies can’t reach.

The Shots We Don’t Take by MandalaRose

Still nursing the tatters of a broken heart and trying desperately to stave off the terror of his impending graduation, college senior Cas Novak decides it’s time to blow off a little steam. Not just any hook-up will do, however. The last thing Cas needs right now is a distraction. On the lookout for someone he can enjoy a steamy night of passion with before leaving them behind entirely, Cas thinks he’s found exactly what he needs in cocky university hockey star and well-known playboy Dean Winchester.

Dean is gorgeous, doesn’t date, and is the singular most infuriating person Cas has ever met. He’s the perfect one night stand...that is, until Dean decides he wants an instant replay of what was supposed to be a one-time event. Will Cas’ offer of friends, sans benefits, convince the arrogant love ’em and leave ’em hockey defenseman to find an easier score? Or will Dean wear down Cas’ defenses and lure the sexy nerd in the dorky trenchcoat back to his bed?

Bullets Over the Bayou (fic by mattzerella_sticks, art by dontbelasagnax)

Everyone wants Castiel Novak to quit the force, including Castiel. But he stays on despite the toxic work environment he’s surrounded by. Still believing he can do some good despite the many lines of red tape impeding him. Luckily, a pair of scissors by the name of Dean Winchester drops into his hands, and he finally feels like he can do some good.

Dean Winchester thought he would be in New Orleans for a day or two. Identify the body of his deadbeat father and then move on. No one knows he’s here. His mother and brother are blissfully unaware of the danger his father roped him into. With a parting gift of a journal, delivered to him the same day he received word about his father, Dean has become the target of a group of people who want him dead. The same people who killed his father.

Racing against the clock, can Dean and Castiel figure out what is so important about John Winchester’s journal that someone would kill for it?

Masquerade by noxsoulmate

It had begun as such a good plan; one that benefitted them both. And masquerading as Castiel Krushnic's boyfriend during the weeks of balls, galas, and charity events certainly was no hardship. With the impending end of their arrangement, though, Dean Winchester must admit that behind the mask of an aloof CEO lies a man he could fall in love with. Or maybe, he already has…

The Medium by raths_kitten

Detective Dean Winchester hates it when his Chief sends a medium to consult on his cases. But this time, the murder is closely linked to Castiel’s world and they both need to work together to solve it.

Any Semblance of Touch (fic by saltnhalo, art by c-kaeru)

1925, New York.

Dean Winchester’s life’s work is protecting the world from the supernatural relics that could destroy it. When an amulet with the power to control the tides is shipped to New York, he must intercept it before it can be used to devastating effects. This time, in order to succeed, he needs a powerful psychometric… and the only one available has sworn off the magical world altogether.

Castiel Novak’s gift comes with great risk. To protect himself, he’s become a recluse, redirecting his magic into museum research. But with the city’s fate hanging in the balance, and faced with the power of Dean’s charm and persuasion…

He can’t force himself to say no.

The Love of a Righteous Man by SargentMom573

Five years ago, Captain Dean Winchester defied his father, Senator John Winchester. With his brother Sam, and his spaceship Impala, Dean found his place among a ragtag fleet of pirates and smugglers. Their latest mission left him with a price on his head and a scar on his heart. When a surprise attack separated him from Sam and revealed a Sith weapon, he would do whatever it took to bring his brother back – even sacrifice his own happiness.

After Emperor Michael’s death broke the psychic link between them, Emperor’s Hand Castiel Novak spent years drowning his sorrows at the bottom of a barrel. Mostly sober, three years ago he found a new purpose as the Impala’s Chief Medical Officer, and Sam Winchester’s guide in the Force. And a good friend in the Impala’s gruff but kind Captain.

Dean and Castiel must work together to bring Sam home alive. But when Castiel’s last mission is exposed, will Castiel complete it and destroy any hopes Dean had for a family? Will Dean forgive Cas’ horrific purpose before it is too late? And give them both what they really want — the love of a righteous man.

SKID by spnsmile

Dean Winchester swore off love after getting dumped and fired from his job the same day. Badly drunk, he ended up balcony-hopping until a pair of hands snatched him inside a darkened room. But it's no hero, it's someone with deep voice whispering threats with a gun pointed at his back. Dean’s too drunk to deal with life but one good look at his hot assailant plus enough beer sold him to his accursed fate. The next morning, he found himself engaged to the most notorious leader of a powerful clan, Castiel Novak.

Married life in the compound for a month was not as blissful so when he could, Dean fought for that freedom. Castiel relented and as Dean tried to put the pieces of his normal life together, getting a bike messenger job and dealing with pain in the ass clients, he now also needs to deal with the dangerous presence of his very jealous and very protective husband watching over him.

Is his life ever going to get back to normal?

[glitterygayvodka]

Yellow

Note: Omg hiii everyone!! I know that it’s literally been a billion years since I’ve written anything and I’m so sorry for that. Over quarantine I got inspired though so this piece is going to be the first installment of my color series! For every color red through purple I’ll have a story involving Harry and Y/n’s relationship. Thank y’all for being so kind and patient with me. I love you all and I hope you enjoy! My requests are open as well as my inbox in general if you have any questions/comments/concerns. Thank you!! Kissy - 🧡✨Kylei

Warnings: None!! This is all fluff but there’s a wholeeee lot of softness so gear your heart up :))

Yellow is the color of warmth and harmony. Yellow feels like the soft caress of sunshine on your skin, the taste of fresh mango on your tongue, the pleasant aroma of steaming chamomile fluttering against your nose, and the cheerful song of canaries in the early hours of spring.

For Y/n, yellow is a feeling that is almost incapable of being put into words. She feels yellow most often on nights like these, while tangled up with Harry as the sun begins to retire. Yellow is the gentle whisper of his fingers against her back, almost as if he’s writing poetry against her skin. She feels tranquility wash over her as she gazes up at him through relaxed lids, basking in the peaceful sound of his voice as he narrates the newest book they’ve been reading together.

Y/n grins happily as Harry uses different accents for each character, slowly sliding her arms around him and further entangling their legs under the cool and crisp sheets. Yellow feels like plopping onto your bed after a long time away from home, and not to be cliche, but Harry had started to feel like home for Y/n. She found refuge in his ability to be his authentic self with ease, and with him there’s never any pressure for her to be something that she isn’t. Their relationship is a safe haven; one where they can express themselves freely and openly. Their differences and similarities alike connect them in ways neither of them ever imagined.

Y/n finds herself studying him as he reads, admiring him in the same way an art historian admires a Monet. His lashes flutter gently against his tan skin as he blinks, his eyes the color of fresh sage in the hazy lighting of their shared bedroom. Her eyes follow the curve of his nose, down to the beautiful outline of his plush lips. Y/n has always been entranced by Harry’s lips. Their soft pink color conjures the image of delicate cherry blossoms to mind, and the way they wrap around syllables as he speaks mesmerizes her. She can’t help but to stare as he continues to read in his slow, deep, drawl. Eventually, Harry feels her gaze on him as he breaks his focus to look down at her with a puzzled yet knowing smile, his lips sandwiched between two endearing dimples.

“S’there something on my face Princess?” he inquires with humor in his voice, placing a bookmark between the pages and slowly closing the book. Y/n blinks as she emerges from her trance, her gaze moving reluctantly from his lips to his equally enticing eyes. She holds his gaze, bringing a hand up to brush a stray curl away from his face. “Nooo,” she laughs with a shake of her head, “I’m just admiring you.” Harry can’t help the flutter in his stomach at her words. Her laugh a melody that he was sure he could listen to for the rest of his life. He pulls her up his body with a giggle of his own after gently placing their book on the nightstand, her thighs falling on either side of him with her bum resting comfortably in his lap.

They sit in a peaceful silence for a moment, looking into each other’s eyes. Eye contact has always been something that both of them cherish. It never felt uncomfortable or forced between them, even in the very beginning. The feeling that runs through them while looking into each other’s eyes is hard to label. It’s almost as if their souls are communicating anything that’s ever been left unsaid. The intensity of their connection never fails to send a shiver up Y/n’s spine, or to cause a rosy blush to warm up Harry’s cheeks. She wraps her arms around his neck, her fingers gently intertwining with his soft curls. Harry lets out a peaceful sigh as Y/n runs her fingers through his hair, taking the time to scratch his scalp occasionally. He lets his eyelids droop in pure bliss, relishing in the aura of the beautiful woman in his lap, who chooses to be with him over anyone else. He can’t say that he’s surprised however, because it often feels like the two of them were made for each other. Two pieces of the same puzzle that make a perfect fit. Harry wasn’t someone who usually believed in fate or destiny, but after meeting Y/n, it didn’t seem so unlikely that certain events were just meant to be, or as Y/n would say, written in the stars.

“What’s on your mind lovely?” she inquires softly, her fingers leisurely making their way up and down his arms and shoulders, stopping every once in a while to trace his tattoos, paying extra attention to one of her favorites; the butterfly. A murmur of contentment slips past his lips, his hands caressing the familiar silhouette of her waist, giving her hips a tender squeeze as he languidly opens his eyes once more. Harry stares at her for a moment before speaking, his eyes committing the blueprint of her face to memory. “M’just thinking about how much love you brought into my life,” He sighs with a gentle shrug of his shoulders.

Y/n can almost feel the sincerity of his words within her bones, his loving tone sending shivers throughout her body despite the warmth of the room. She’s quiet for a while, allowing her thoughts to marinate. Her fingers glide over the delicate string of pearls he had yet to take off, before her gaze slowly returns to his. “Hear my soul speak. At the very instant that I saw you, did my heart fly to your service.” She quotes with a coy smile, her fingers continuing their path along his body.

Harry’s eyebrows scrunch together in confusion, a perplexed look overtaking his features as he studies her goofy expression. He begins to replay her words in his mind, when suddenly, the realization hits him and he lets out a loud chuckle with a shake of his head. “Did you just quote Shakespeare to me?” He inquires, his tone a mixture of playful annoyance and genuine humor. Y/n lets out a chorus of her own laughter before nodding, a beautiful smile adorning her lips. “Did you expect anything less of me?” She questions, her eyes glinting playfully in the soft lighting. Harry shakes his head yet again, moving his hands from the comfortable position on her waist to intertwine their fingers. “Well, I was actually expecting a kiss,” he grins cheekily, “but the surprise visit from Shakespeare was very enlightening.” He finishes, his thumb caressing the back of her hand lovingly.

Y/n’s body shakes with laughter at his words, and Harry can’t help the huge smile that plasters itself on his face. He could live in this moment, with this beautiful soul, for the rest of his life. He had never felt more genuinely warm, seen, and loved in his entire existence than he did while with Y/n. The love constantly radiates off of the both of them in waves, reaching anyone and everyone who is open to experiencing their magic. As Y/n’s laughter finally begins to subside and he helps her wipe away any happy tears that happened to betray her, Harry’s heart feels beyond full. “Okay I have no idea what came over me!” She breathes, slightly out of breath in the way that only a good laugh can induce. “I guess you’re a comedian and I’m a nerd, so where does that leave us?” Y/n giggles, bringing her gaze back to him with laughter glossed eyes.

“Hmmm,” Harry ponders, slowly intertwining their hands yet again. “I guess that means you’ll always have someone t’quote literature to, and I’ll always have someone t’laugh really hard at my bad jokes.” Yet another smile makes its way to his lips, and Y/n giggles again with a squeeze of his hand. “Well then!” She sings, releasing one of her hands from his to cup his cheek, bringing her face closer to his. “Aren’t we just the perfect pair?” Her question has a playful tone and he can feel the warmth of her breath against him, her eyes moving between his gaze and his lips.

“We sure are...” he murmurs, his hands following her lead, one moving forward cradle her face with the other gently resting against her throat. Harry can feel her pulse quicken with his actions, and it makes him smile to know that she still has this reaction to his touch. Their eyes flutter closed as they move even closer, their lips finally brushing against each other as delicately as if it were the first time. Harry deepens the kiss, the faint taste of mint and honey lingering on her tongue from their nightly bedtime tea, and Y/n relishes in the intoxicating feeling of his soft lips against hers. A long time ago, Y/n realized that soulmates are yellow.

[winterrose527]

have you done an Ella - museum curator, Robb - investor on a tour work??

Ummmm no I had not! And wow was this one cathartic to write. It came out way longer than expected because this is a subject near and dear to my heart...

Thank you for this prompt!!

***

She was so sick of this shit.

Over a year of it. Ever since the governor’s order in April 2020. Back then she’d almost believed it was just a blip, a couple of weeks. A vacation, almost.

But then the ban on gatherings. The shutdowns. Finally the masks.

Every museum in the country had shut its doors along with libraries, movie theaters, and every other place desperate parents could take their children on a rainy Saturday.

Theirs had been luckier than most. An endowment a few years prior, which had been earmarked but not mandated for an expansion had been used to keep the lights on and the staff fed - literally. Their programming had gone virtual and understandably attendance had dropped but not entirely – thanks to a few local artists that had generously donated their time for a last minute plug.

Ever since restrictions had lifted, the crowds had returned somewhat. A rainy spring and summer had helped, but they were nowhere near their ‘pre-pandemic’ levels (and with the Delta variant on the rise she wasn’t super comfortable with the term ‘post-pandemic’ to describe their current state of affairs).

She wouldn’t say that today though.

No, today everything would be rosy – not just the botanical gardens that abutted the museum and had been started in 1853 – no, 1854.

Not that she imagined the potential donor would be fact checking her but nevertheless there was no room for error. She needed to represent the museum well. Her colleagues were counting on her – not to mention the collection itself depended on her.

The board had decided at its most recent meeting if they didn’t get an influx of donations within this quarter they were going to sell off a few pieces from the collection.

There was nothing sadder to a museum than deaccessioning. The staff all loved and protected the collection, and they truly felt the impact they and it had on the community. Myrcella loved to walk through the galleries on Thursday afternoons to see the regulars who’d come to visit the paintings like old friends of theirs, stopping by to say hello to a Baroque oil here or an Impressionist watercolor there.

So if schmoozing yet another prospective donor was what it took to mean that Mr. Poole’s favorite still-life stayed put for his bi-weekly Wednesday morning visit, then she would schmooze. She would schmooze Sansa Stark like her life depended on it.

She knew Sansa Stark sort of. It was the sort of thing where pre-pandemic they had run into each other at half a dozen events every year and always had a lovely chat and discussed getting together and then never did. The North was a small world and they ran in similar circles. But they weren’t friends.

Still, she was her best bet. From the wealthiest and most philanthropic family in the North, of course she was.

And she had to deliver.

The board had all made it clear that they expected results, and it had been suggested that really Myrcella Baratheon shouldn’t have such a hard time finding donors. But all her usual suspects had come to her with their own sob stories full of please tell me you won’t shut your doors but without any promise of relief, and the people she knew down south – the sort that profited from the world being in such dire straits had no interest in a little regional museum. No matter how much she marketed it as a hidden jewel.

To them, there was little worth in a jewel hidden, and they had no interest in having their act of charity buried under the northern snows.

So Sansa Stark was it.

She smoothed her dress, chosen carefully for the occasion. Sansa was always impeccably dressed and favored ladylike, tailored dresses for daytime, just as Myrcella did. Today, which had turned out to be a gorgeous one, she’d chosen a pale blue scallop trim knit dress, her grandmother’s wristwatch her only accessory. Feminine but appropriate. More comfortable than the clingier dresses she only ever so occasionally wore when taking around a male potential benefactor.

“Good luck,” Gilly, their glum registrar said as she raised her wrist to her nose to make sure she could still smell the scented oil she’d spread there that morning.

“Thanks baby,” Myrcella sighed, “Lunch from that naughty salad place when I’m done? My treat?”

Gilly smiled at that, “My treat if you get her.”

“Oh, now the stakes are really high,” she teased and blew Gilly a kiss and walked through the halls.

She felt eyes on her as she went. It was a small, tight-knit team, and it made it all the harder every time she received a sheepish regret. If she couldn’t succeed, one of them might lose their job if the board couldn’t decide what to sell. Even if they could, depending on how long this lasted.

Game face, Baratheon.

She took a deep breath and then smiled for fifteen seconds. She let it drop, knowing that it would still be in her eyes when she walked outside and it felt a little more genuine when her heels clacked along the gorgeous marble floor.

Walking over to the security desk, the smile reappeared on her face.

“Morning Roddy,” she grinned.

“Good morning to you Miss Myrcella,” Rodrick greeted her, “You see the game last night?”

“You’ve known me for four years,” she noted, “When in all of that time have I ever seen the game?”

He chuckled, “There was that one time in 2018.”

“Oh no, I totally lied about that,” she assured him, shrugging, “I wanted you to think I was cool.” She then looked around the empty lobby, “No Miss Stark?”

He grimaced, “Not yet. Traffic is back though, folks still aren’t used to it.”

She nodded, picking at a non-existent thread on her dress and looked around. Her eyes narrowed in on something and she crossed the lobby and picked up a tiny scrap of paper, crumbling it in her hand and then walking back over and tossing it in the trash behind Roddy’s desk.

“I’ve been sitting here for two hours, didn’t see it,” he noted.

She smiled, “Well you’ve been doing less important things like making sure no one robs the place.”

He opened his mouth to say something to her but then his gaze was directed behind her, “I’m sorry, sir, we don’t open until 11 o’clock on Tuesdays.”

“I sort of have an appointment,” the man said.

She knew that voice. She’d heard it before. In a coat closet at Alys Karstark’s birthday party. At the next table over at a charity even in 2019. Deep, stubbornly Northern, as unyielding as Valyrian steel.

She felt her palms sweat and forced herself not to rub them on her dress, rubbing them together instead and then turning around with a bright smile.

“You’re not Sansa Stark,” she greeted him.

He grinned sheepishly, though she wasn’t sure this man had ever had occasion to be sheepish in his entire life, “Afraid not. Myrcella, right? We met at that thing – that um… save the…whatsits.”

She giggled, and she heard the sound echoing garishly on the marble, “I believe that evening we were saving the seals. Or the… tulips, maybe.”

His smile spread slowly across his face, a dimple marking its end like an exclamation point, “Well we did our part even if we can’t remember what it was, I’m Robb Stark.”

She liked that he introduced himself. He’d done so every time they’d met, as though he in no way expected her to remember him. Sansa had done it the first five or so. Must have been how they were raised.

On the other hand, she’d been raised to act as though someone was foolish for not knowing who she was, introducing herself had been something she’d had to learn when she moved north, like parallel parking and salting her stoop.

Her hand extended and his met it, taking hers in his larger one and shaking it firmly as he looked her in the eyes briefly and then her lips slightly longer before purposefully going back to her eyes, “Myrcella Baratheon, and I remember you, Mr. Stark.”

“Well if that were true you’d remember I prefer Robb,” he noted, releasing her hand.

She shrugged, leaning forward conspiratorially, “Old habits. Can I get you something to drink before we begin our tour?”

“No thank you, I’m fine,” he shook his head.

She nodded, “Well it’s beautiful out now, why don’t we start in the botanical gardens. There’s been a bumper crop this year, we recently had the Cerwyn wedding here, did you attend?”

He fell into step next to her and said, “No, I didn’t. I was meant to but they reduced it to just family.”

She nodded, “Right, seems to be happening quite a bit. Will you do the same for your wedding?”

He stopped walking briefly and before she could stop too he had started again, “No… uh, rather than reduce the guest list we decided not to have it at all. We called the engagement off in January.”

“I’m so sorry!” she internally stabbed herself in the throat, “I didn’t know.”

He shrugged, “The nice thing about there not being any events over the past year is that the press didn’t really get wind of it.” Then stopped abruptly, “Not that… it’s not like that makes up for the past year or anything.”

She laughed, “Don’t worry, I know what you meant. I am sorry though, about your engagement.”

“As am I,” he agreed, “But it’s for the best. We parted as friends. Had we gotten married, I’m not sure we could have done so, so I’m grateful for that, and for her.”

A gentleman.

So many men played the part. Opening doors, buying flowers. So few of them realized that manners mattered very little when they were offered without grace.

“That’s lovely,” she noted, pleased for once not to have to lie.

It was a gorgeous day, a perfect seventy-nine degrees and clear blue skies. As though they’d understood the importance of the occasion, the Phlox stood proudly in battle formation and the scent of honeysuckle surrounded them.

“Sansa wanted me to apologize for missing your meeting,” Robb noted.

“I hope nothing’s the matter?” she asked.

A grin overtook his face, “No nothing at all. She’s in labor.”

She smiled, grabbing his forearm briefly. They both looked down at her hand on it and she pulled it back as gingerly as she could.

“That’s wonderful,” she told him, “Her second, right?”

He nodded, “A girl. And I’ve convinced her out of the name Corona.”

She chuckled, “Oh come now, you could call her Corrie for short.”

“And her parents idiots for long,” he noted. Then told her, “They weren’t really going to call her Corona.”

She smiled, “And here I was about to tip off the press…”

He smirked, “Narrow miss, then.” He looked around, “So. Flowers.”

“Not just flowers,” she pointed out, “We have a community garden to the left and down that lane local beekeepers keep their hives.”

“My mistake,” he allowed with a close-lipped smile.

That smile annoyed her. It was the same one she’d heard in the voice of every southern donor she’d called when they’d offered her good luck with her little country museum.

It was the smile someone gave her when she’d already lost.

“Perhaps we should go inside,” she noted, “I can show you our contemporary wing which we’ve recently devoted to elevating female and underrepresented artists. Or perhaps that’s a bit too avant-garde for you. Would you like to see our hall of armor and weaponry? I believe we have a few pieces that your ancestors left on one battlefield or another.”

“I’m sorry,” he noted, rubbing his jaw, “I told Sansa we should just cancel this meeting but she insisted.”

“With all due respect, Mr. Stark –“

“Robb,” he corrected her.

“No, I’m addressing Mr. Stark right now,” she argued, all of the frustration and helplessness of the past few months bubbling up inside of her, “May I ask what exactly it is about this that you find amusing? Is it the painting that we’re going to have to sell so that it can end up in someone’s climate controlled storage unit and never looked at again? Or is it the leaky roof? Perhaps the pay cut we asked all senior employees to take? Or how about the summer interns who had gone through a rigorous hiring process only to be told we couldn’t take them on at all? I certainly hope it’s not the seniors who used to come here for their Saturday afternoon watercolor classes which we had to cancel because we didn’t have anything to pay the instructor even though it would have been the perfect activity for them because it is outdoors and safe. Or maybe it’s the after-school programs you find so laughable…”

“I’m not laughing,” he pointed out. “But you’ll forgive me if I take your righteousness with a grain of salt.”

“I’m not sure that I will, actually,” she argued.

“No?” he asked, “Well let’s talk about those seniors? Don’t you think that funding is better spent ensuring they have free and safe access to the vaccination that can actually save their lives? Or what about those kids? Sure, the after-school program is great, but how about providing computers to allow them to do remote learning? Now I’m sorry if you have to lose one of a thousand paintings in this place, but if money can be better spent giving people what they really need then I’m sorry – sell the damn thing.”

That was hard to argue with.

But not impossible.

“So you’ve drained your coffers?” she asked.

There was only room for one of them on the moral high ground and she’d always enjoyed the view.

His cheeks had turned blotchy in anger but they paled now, “Excuse me?”

“Are you in the red?” she asked, “Declaring bankruptcy? Let’s not go that far - Taking out loans? Leveraging assets?”

His jaw clenched, revealing a muscle in his left cheek that might have been attractive if she wasn’t about to rip his head off.

“No,” he noted, “But my family’s company and my family have given an exceptional amount this year already.”

“Well,” she pointed out, “It has been an exceptional year already.”

“Are you always this haughty with potential donors?” he asked, stepping ever so slightly closer to her.

A flash in her mind of his hand ghosting across the back of her neck as he secured her coat over her shoulders. That smell.

“Never,” she admitted, stepping ever so slightly towards him, “But you’re not a potential donor, are you? And tell me, is it really because you don’t think it’s worthwhile or because it doesn’t sound worthwhile?”

His face contorted in anger, “You think we’re giving so that people will write songs about us? We want this country back on its feet. We want to return to normal and if we can’t do that, we want to make sure to give people as comfortable an existence until it reverts on its own. Tell me, Miss Baratheon, can you actually find fault in that?”

She shook her head, “No, I can’t.” He looked surprised and she shrugged, “It’s a flawless argument. Just an incomplete one. Giving an exceptional amount right now isn’t enough. You have to give until it hurts, because you can. It is wonderful, exceptional, heroic, to be doing all that you have done so far. But what comes next? What comes after? What happens when the dust settles? When things open? When we get things under control? What happens when people are ready to return to what was before and none of it is left because it wasn’t deemed essential. Because it’s just flowers and amateur beekeepers and pretty watercolors? I understand that we are not on the top of the list and we shouldn’t be. But we should be on the list. We need to do more than survive, Robb. There are things apart from us that we need to endure. Things we need to protect.”

His mouth twitched at that.

“I’m sorry to say I don’t have time to see the armor,” he told her.

She felt the defeat trickle through her veins slowly.

She held out her hand, “Thank you for letting me rant at you.”

He shook it once again, narrowing his eyes at her, “Something tells me you’ve still got some left in the tank. I’d quite like to hear it. Have dinner with me tonight and convince me.”

It was happening to all of her girlfriends. After a year in isolation, their ability to detect a creep from a mile away had withered. She hadn’t thought that hers had too. He’d seemed like one of the good ones.

She pulled her hand away, “That’s not the way I do business, Mr. Stark.”

His eyes widened in horror, “No, that’s not what I meant. I don’t get to make these decisions.”

“You’re the CEO,” she pointed out.

“Yes I am but Sansa insisted on inserting a clause into her contract that she gets final say over any philanthropic decisions,” he sighed, “I literally am not even allowed to choose the location of a book drive.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at that, a tiny bit of hope bubbling inside of her, “So when you said you should have cancelled the meeting…”

“It’s because Sansa’s already decided that we will be giving a donation, she wanted to discuss the structure of it with you – you know whether you’d prefer a lump sum, or whether you want it in increments, if you wanted it to be public to inspire other donors or whether you wanted it to be private so that they couldn’t use it as an excuse not to give…” he waved his hand, “She’s better at the specifics and I’m sure she’ll be calling you in between contractions to fine tune them.”

She laughed, “Please tell her not to. A pledge is more than enough to take to my board, we can map out the nitty gritty whenever she or whomever will be replacing her in the interim has time.”

He nodded, “You’ll have them within the week.”

She was about to thank him but the words caught in her mouth, “So wait a second… did you just wind me up for the sake of it?”

He grinned, a chuckle present in his voice though it hadn’t yet broken, “I’d like to point out that it took very little to wind you up.”

She laughed, because he was right and admitted, “It’s been a tough year.”

He nodded, “For everyone. So, now that you know I have absolutely no control and can hold absolutely nothing over you… have dinner with me.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Because I enjoy arguing with you,” he told her, then grinned sheepishly, “And because I lied. Sansa told me that I could cancel the meeting and I insisted on coming because I wanted to see you. The bad thing about this year is that there were no events where I could have a chance of bumping into you…”

“Oh that’s the bad thing about this year?” she asked.

“Well,” he grinned, then did a scarily good impression of her, “Maybe it shouldn’t be at the top of the list, but it should be on the list.”

[kimistorm]

Late Night Shenanigans [Bang Chan x Reader]

Fandom: Stray Kids

Pairing: Bang Chan x GN! Reader

Warnings: None! <20% of this is actually a texting conversation

Summary: You’re a little doubtful of where Chan is taking you for your midnight date, especially since he looks to be taking you into the middle of nowhere, but by the end of the night, you end up with a very special wish.

You ran your hands through your hair in frustration as you looked at your assignment. You had been staring at this darn problem for the past half hour, going to google and desperately searching for something that wasn’t behind a paywall.

Armed with Chan’s answer and excitement for later that night, it wasn’t long until you received another text from your beloved boyfriend letting you know was outside.

You quickly shut off your laptop and grabbed your house keys before heading out to the front door of your home. You silently made your way through the house, straining your eyes to see from the small amount of moonlight peeking through the windows. A hand waved around cautiously in front of you in hopes that it would keep you from smashing into a wall. Once at the door, you felt it safe enough to turn on the flashlight from your phone. Enough to see which pair of shoes was yours. You quietly slipped them on, and eased out the front door as quietly as you could, cringing when the deadbolt clicked as you unlocked and locked it behind you.

Turning around, you saw Chan’s black car stopped in the street in front of your house. You quickly ran across the grass towards him, and pulled open the door to the passenger side, “fancy seeing you here.” You grinned as you slid into the seat, “come here often?”

He paused to think about it, “I’d say so, I have a beautiful significant other who lives in that house.”

“Aww,” you cooed as the two of you gave a quick kiss, “you’re too kind.”

“I see no lies.” He responded smoothly as he pulled on the shifter and released the hand brake to head towards your destination.

“Yeah?” he didn’t see your quirked brow as you admired his profile, “well there’s an even more beautiful man right next to me.”

He scoffed, “no.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Naurrrr.”

“I can do this all night.” You teased when you noticed the annoyance in his voice grow with each comeback.

“Please don��t,” he nearly sighed out, “Jisung kept on texting me awful jokes and puns.”

You let out a mock offended shout, “and he didn’t think to include me?”

“Consider yourself blessed.” He responded as his eyes stayed on the road. While it was quiet, and there were hardly any cars about, he was taking the two of you down a winding path devoid of lights except for the ones coming from his headlights.

“Wait, but I want to hear!” you continued excitedly.

“What do you call a baby computer?”

You tilted your head to the side and thought about it, “minitor?”

“What?” the shock in his voice was clear, “what does that even mean? Like a minotaur?”

“Ah, like a mini-monitor?” you tried to defend your answer, “nevermind that. What was the answer?”

“Data.” Chan deadpanned and it was your turn to be in shock and confusion.

“Data?”

“Da-ta-ta,” he added in a baby voice and you nearly snorted. Mostly from the sound of Chan doing a baby voice, and not really because of the joke. “Come on, it wasn’t that funny.”

“That’s such a Jisung thing,” you smiled as you watched the scenery pass by before turning on your phone to confront said person.

When did that happen? You quickly checked the group chat and scrolled through it a bit to see ‘Seungmo removed Jeekies from the chat.’ Without a second of hesitation, you quickly added Jisung back into the chat.

“Is that the group chat going off?” Chan asked and you took your attention away from the chat to look up at him and the road.

“Yeah, Jisung and I are tagteamming the data joke.” You replied with a smile.

Chan let out a groan, “it’s not a good joke.”

You let out a giggle, “I’ll tell that to Jisung.”

“Believe me, he knows.”

“Do you know why Jisung was proposing to Minho with a squid?” you turned off your phone to refocus on what was happening around you. The area had darkened quite a bit, and by this point you had no idea where you were. You were impressed that Chan seemed to know where he was going, considering how he didn’t even have any navigation system up.

The man in question nearly choked, “proposing with a squid?” he asked incredulously and even glanced towards you in confusion, not that he could make out anything from the darkness.

“Well, an octopus.” You admitted, recognizing the difference between the two.

His laugh blended into his next words, “no. About time though.”

You laughed along with him, “I don’t think Minho liked it that much. Or Seungmin.”

Chan already had a hunch as to what happened and clicked his tongue almost disapprovingly, “did he remove Sungie from the chat?”

“Yuup.”

Chan let out a sigh, “of course he did.”

You laughed at his resignation, “anyways, where we going?”

“You just thought to ask now?” he couldn’t help but laugh at the sudden question, considering how the past few minutes were quiet except for the typing from you and the background music from his spotify playlist.

“I mean, I trust you, so I’m not too concerned.” You hummed and gazed out to the dark expanse surrounding you, “I’d say Area 51 but we’re nowhere close to that.”

“This will be better than aliens,” Chan confirmed with a nod.

You glanced at your phone that lit up again with a picture of an actual squid, Jisung must’ve been running out of octopus pictures, “I think Jisung’s got the alien part covered.”

“Anyways, here we are.” Chan slowed down the car and the dirt crunched beneath the tires as he pulled off to a small clearing by the side of the road. It looked remarkably the same as what the rest of the drive looked like. Dark and empty.

You gave him a confused look that he probably couldn’t see well as he turned off the car, “the middle of nowhere?”

“Exactly.” He told you with a touch of giddy excitement in his voice, “come on!” he nearly jumped out of the car and to the trunk, where he pulled out a blanket and a bag.

You were a bit more skeptical as you slowly got out of the car, “Channie? What are we doing?”

“You said you trusted me?” there was a pout in his voice as he stopped fiddling with trying to lay out the blanket on the hood of his voice.

“Of course I do,” you told him and quickly gave him a hug. You could tell he wasn’t that upset though, judging by the way his voice jumped a couple octaves.

“Hop on,” his voice returned to its normal level as he patted the soft fabric that was laid out on the largest flat surface of his car, “it’s thick enough that the heat from the engine won’t burn.” He added after a moment of hesitation from you. You felt bad for your hesitation and tried to scootch yourself up the hood, “like lay back.” He added as he laid down next to you. You followed his words and what greeted you was a dark sky littered with tiny pinpricks of light.

You felt your jaw drop in awe as you saw an entire collection of stars that you had never seen before. “Oh wow.” You gasped as you tried to soak in the view. It was almost humbling. Each of those tiny pinpricks of white were huge balls of gas light years away. The light that you were currently had traveled the distance of several light years and for several years, now to be witnessed by you and your boyfriend. A warm hand came down to clasp around yours and you eagerly squeezed back.

“It’s my favorite place to stargaze.” He told you softly as you continued to gape up at the sky.

You used your free hand to point at the streak of stars in the sky, the area outside of the streak looking surprisingly empty, “that’s the Milky Way?”

“Yup,” he continued in the same soft tone, enjoying the night atmosphere and you at his side, “that’s literally our galaxy.”

“Looks smaller than I expected,” you laughed and Chan giggled along with you.

“It’s about 50,000 light years across,” he added and gave you a light elbow, “not exactly small.”

“Okay smarty-pants,” you laughed and gave him a slight shove in return. He let out a sound of protest, but let you have the last laugh. You sighed and looked up to the sky again, “do you feel small?”

“From this small glimpse of how vast our universe is?” Chan asked without any hesitation.

You couldn’t help but tear your gaze away from the sky to deadpan at him, “when you put it that way that just makes it seem so much more intimidating.”

He shot you a dimpled smile that you were able to make out as your eyes adjusted, “no.” He scootched over to press himself against your side, “I feel impressed. So many things had to go right. Gravity is the perfect amount that it allows expansion of the Universe, but also brings things close enough together to form atoms. Our planet is the perfect distance away so we’re not scorched or frozen to death. Life evolved from tiny organisms that lived in the ocean to living, bipedal, thinking humans. I exist today. You exist today. And we met, and here we are, gazing at the universe around us. So no, I don’t feel small.” At some point during his ramblings Chan turned his eyes from the twinkling stars shining above to fix you with an adoring look, so it was to your great surprise when you turned and found a pair of eyes looking fondly at you.

“Wait that scares me even more.” You put a hand up to your mouth in slight fear and also to hide the grin as Chan let out an exasperated sound and rolled over so he was on his back again.

“That was insightful!”

“Too deep!” you protested, “it’s midnight, my head’s empty. No thoughts.”

A hand found its way to your head and ruffled at your hair, “lame.” You feebly cried out and tried to fight off his hand but ended up giving up and dealing with it, knowing that nobody was going to see your tousled hair. The hand found itself on the other side of you (effectively bringing the two of you even closer together) and pointed out the brightest star in the sky. “That’s Sirius. Well, technically Sirius A and B since it’s a binary system,” he rambled under his breath, not that you really had any clue what he was talking about, “but we just see it as one point of light.”

“I think you’re brighter than Sirius,” you couldn’t help the cheesy comment as you planted a quick kiss on his cheek.

You could almost see his ears redden and the embarrassed and slightly shocked smile grow on his face as you watched his reaction, “that’s a good one.”

You let out a happy hum and rested your head against his shoulder again, “anything more I should know about Sirius?”

There was a moment of silence before his hand rose back to point at the sky, “it’s part of the Canis Major,” he continued and tried to draw out the shape of the dog with his finger. “Though, not as major as my love for you.” He let out an awkward laugh mixed with a screech and pulled his hand away to cover his face with embarrassment.

“Was that you trying to one up me?” you questioned with a light grin on your face as you propped your head up on a hand as he peered at you past his fingers.

“Maybe?”

You laughed and pressed a kiss to his hands, “nice.” You laid yourself back onto the hood of the car and snuggled up next to him as he continued to point out stars and constellations in the sky while simultaneously giving you more astronomy knowledge than you knew what to do with. It was enjoyable and peaceful as the two of you left your buzzing phones inside the car and there wasn’t a car that passed on the road behind you. The cool night paired with the chirping of insects, Chan’s warm body heat, and the two of you just cuddling up under the stars was your the perfect way to end the week.

“That was a shooting star!” Chan screamed as he pointed up to the sky, you eagerly nodded as you saw the tiny streak of light, “make a wish!” you hummed in agreeance and closed your eyes as you thought about it, but finding it hard as everything you wanted was already right here. “I love you.” He added softly, planting a kiss onto your head.

“Love you too.”

Masterlist

Note: The octopus proposal is a reference to episode 2 of mysterious kitchen! That's literally Han holding that octopus.

[maysbanks]

she moves in her own way. (jj maybank)

due to the ASTOUNDING response to my first jj fic which i have to say a huuuge thank you to everyone that liked, commented & reblogged, it honestly means the absolute world !! i couldn't wait much longer to start writing for my boy again, i have so many fic ideas and cannot wait to get them out to y'all. this one is shorter than the last, & the title is inspired from the song 'she moves in her own way' by the kooks (lol) but isn't necessarily based off of it, it's just something that i wrote up quickly bc i was in my feels™️ . also i feel very unoriginal with the whole plot and aspect of this but im gonna post it anyway bc i love jj lmao. anyway hope u enjoy !

warnings: swearing, underage drinking, drug use, violence, jj with a gun™️

summary: reader walks the fine line between either pogue or kook, though technically a kook, she ignores all social standings of the obx and jj maybank cannot stop himself from getting caught up in her whirlwind.

( gif isn’t mine! please let me know if it’s yours so i can credit you. )

Everyone seemed to have a different perspective of you, unsurprisingly. You weren't really much of a social butterfly, you kept yourself to yourself, really. Nobody in the Outer Banks knew much about you at all, other than what they had come up with in their heads. And while you tried your best to stay in the shadows, that only seemed to make you stand out more.

You were known for being the best of both worlds - not really a Pogue, but not really a Kook either. While your social status and family wealth suggested you to be a Kook, your free spirit and reckless behaviour fitted you better towards the Pogue style. If anyone were to ask you, you told them you were neither.

Why should a name define you anyway? You thought it was all bullshit, the stupid territorial arguments and the snide comments from both sides. You thought it was ridiculous, you weren't living in The Outsiders, for fuck sake.

You moved in your own way, simple as that. You wouldn't let anyone tell you what to do, where you can't or shouldn't be, it was a free country you'd say, middle finger salute ready to aim towards anyone who dared cross you. You were an enigma, wild and careless, unforgiving and unforgettable. You didn't necessarily like the attention, but you got it. And you knew it, and you played on it, too.

You had used your irresistible charm more than enough times to bail JJ Maybank out of trouble, despite your parents' protest. They didn't have a problem with the Pogues, persay, how could they when your dad been one half of his life before meeting your mom and marrying into the rich lifestyle; they just had a problem with JJ, as many of the parents on the island did. He was an unstoppable force to be reckoned with, weed smoking, knuckles constantly torn, skin bruised, quick wit, sarcastic humour, daddy issues, you know the type. Kids loved him, parents hated him.

You were friends with JJ, you supposed. You spent your time with him talking about your days and smoking a joint, meaningful conversations turning into joking and general tomfoolery within seconds. With JJ, you were simply unapologetically you, and JJ never judged you. He never made you choose a side, seemingly content with the fact that you were a little bit of everything, though there was times when he teased you relentlessly about the Kook life, but that was just JJ.

And despite the social differences, him being a Pogue through and through, you technically a Kook, you were drawn to each other pretty easily. Not that you hung out all the time, but you loved every second when you did, usually joined by his group of best friends - John B, Pope, and Kiara. With Kiara a Kook herself but drawn more to the lifestyle of the Pogue's, she understood you more than anyone. You'd bonded a lot, and with each of them too.

JJ loved that you fitted in with them, like a missing puzzle piece. So perfectly, it shook him to its core. The pair of you were close, but he had no idea where he stood with you, like most people never when it came to you. You were like a rollercoaster, taking people for the most exciting ride of their lives that lasted a full three or so minutes before they returned back to solid ground. You'd given JJ a ride a number of times on your non-existent metaphorical rollercoaster, and he'd returned for another ride time and time again. You couldn't say no to that damned boy.

It was a blessing and a curse, the unspoken relationship you shared. A blessing because JJ was the best thing that happened to you, and a curse because that was your downfall. You never got attached to people, never given yourself the chance. But then JJ Maybank had come along, blonde hair and blue eyes, split lip and sharpened teeth, words cunning. You saw him as a challenge at first, the name Kook Princess haunting you as he spoke them, stood in front of you at the keg upon your first real meeting. He'd held a drink out towards you, smirk perfect on his pink lips.

You'd attended over a hundred kegger's in your lifetime, the Pogue parties more inviting than those of the Kook's. You danced and talked to anyone that came across your path, whether it be unknowing Tourons, unjudging Pogues, or unforgiving Kooks, you drew them all in. You didn't fit in with any of them, JJ had realised. You really did move in your own way, he thought. He liked that, he'd decided. And hey, you were pretty cute too.

On that particular night, he'd spoken to you directly for the first time in a long time. "Would the Kook Princess like a drink?" He'd asked, holding the red cup out towards you. You'd eyed the offended object, and subsequently him, too. He smirked at the attention. You had rolled your eyes.

"Don't call me that," you'd said simply, but taking the cup from his hands regardless. You took a sip, relieved to discover that he hadn't tampered with it in any way. You were still considered a Kook to most people, after all. You could never be too careful. "Thanks, Maybank."

And he'd blinked at you, lips suddenly raising to a sly smile as he shrugged, dimples winking at you as they appeared in his cheeks. "Anytime," and he'd spoken your name back to you and you couldn't get enough of the way it sounded coming from his mouth, and you realised hey, this guy is pretty cute, and the rest, as they, is history.

You were in the midst of another infamous Pogue kegger at the current, months after your first introduction to JJ Maybank and his friends, and you stood off to the side, listening to JJ intently as he ranted about the events of the day he'd endured. Starting from finding a Grady White sunken in the marsh, "A fucking Grady Marsh, they're like 500 G's man!", to discovering that the boat belonged to Scooter Grubbs, who had coincidentally been found dead that same day, to getting chased by two guys with a gun, to the finding of the motel key from the wreck and breaking in that same motel room, finding a safe full of money and a gun of all things, to their best attempt at laying low which, unsurprisingly, resulted in the kegger in the first place.

JJ was wild in his recite of the events, hands gesturing every which way as you watched him with your lips curled into your mouth, resisting a smile at his antics. When he finished he retelling, you raised an eyebrow and chuckled dryly. "So, complete and utter boring day for you, huh?"

JJ chuckled along with you, shaking his head as if he was still in disbelief from everything that had happened in the past twenty four hours. "Man, it was crazy," he muttered. He looked at you then, eyes sincere. "I wish you were there with us. It was like something straight from a movie, I'm telling you. I feel like such a badass with that gun."

Your secret joy at his confession of that he wished you were was short lived, as the last of his words sunk in and you felt dread build in the pit of your stomach. You stared at him, him so excited that he hadn't even realised your face had dropped, before you reached out and grabbed his arm, effectively halting his movements and stopping the hurried flow of words that were leaving his mouth.

"JJ," you said carefully, eyes trained on his as he stared, clueless. "Please tell me you did not take that gun from the safe."

Your heart dropped as you saw him falter, his lips helplessly moving but no words coming out. He held a hand up, as if to hush you, though you hadn't started to speak again, and then his hand had dropped just as quick as it was raised, his teeth biting down on his chapped lip as the realisation dawned on you.

"JJ Fucking Maybank," you spat, hands slapping gently at his arms, because you could never really hurt him, you just wanted him to know you were pissed. "Do you realise how fucking careless that is? How much trouble you could get into, if anyone knew you had a gun-" your voice trailed off, your eyes closing as you exhaled. "JJ, please tell me you don't have it on you right now."

His lack of reply was the only answer you needed, and your stomach churned as you stepped back from his figure, suddenly feeling sick. He followed you, though, not letting you get too far as he took your arms in his hands and tried to drag you closer to him once more. You shook your head, arms slipping from his hold as you glared at him fiercely.

"That's so fucking stupid, JJ. You could get into serious trouble with this, trouble I won't be able to get you out of." You warned, because you knew it was true. Your charm and looks could get him out of some trouble to its extent, but it was more so your parents wealth and status that got the both of you out of shit when you managed to get into it, and you also knew your parents would literally throw a fit if you got involved in something like this - carrying a gun was no joking matter. You stepped back once more, hand finding its way to your forehead. "And from a crime scene, no less. Fucking hell."

JJ licked his lips, standing back roughly as you watched, his jaw clenching. "Well I'm not asking for your help here, Princess," he taunted, the nickname sending a wave of annoyance through you. JJ knew it would. "It's not like I ask you to help me, you're just there. Thinking I need help, like I'm some fucking charity case, a fucking doll you picked up from the thrift store that was gonna be thrown out the next day."

You tried to protest, but JJ didn't give you the chance. "I don't need your help all the fucking time. I don't need your pity. I get that you won't understand because why would you? You're a Kook, you get everything you want handed to you on a silver platter. And you can argue and fight me about it all you want, but I know you know it's true."

He sighed heavily, hands running down his face in a sign of defeat. You watched him all the while, thankful that you had ventured off the outskirts of the party so that hopefully nobody had heard JJ shouting at you, your heart wrenching as his blue eyes settled on you. "I'm sorry, JJ," you said finally. You refused to cry, though the desire to at the sight of him being so mad at you tore you apart. "I'm just trying to look out for you. With the gun thing, with everything that I help you with. And I know I'm a Kook, and I know that my parents could afford to buy half of this fucking island if they pleased, but that doesn't define me. I care, okay? And I know I care a lot more than a lot of people in your life."

It was probably a low blow, and you knew it. But JJ took it in, let the words sink into his brain where they stayed there, his fists clenching at his sides. You crossed your arms over your chest, defeated.

"I'm gonna go back to the party," you whispered. "I'll see you around, I guess." You eyed his pockets, unsure of where exactly he held the gun. "Be careful, okay."

And even when you were angry with him, you still tried to make sure he was okay, that he stayed safe. There was multiple occasions you'd showed up unannounced, simply asking how his day was, if he okay, if he had eaten that day, stayed hydrated. At first the attention startled him, he'd never really had anyone look out for him in that aspect, and yet there you were, like an angel sent from the gods themselves, smiling down at him.

You cared, he realised. You cared so much that sometimes he couldn't take it, because he didn't know how. The most family he'd ever gotten close to having in his life was the Pogues, after losing his mother and subsequently losing his father too as he turned into the monster that he was, cold and distant, fists always poised ready for an imaginary fight, and he knew that someday the Pogues would even slip through his fingers. He couldn't let that happen with you. He wouldn't.

He'd started off in your direction, truly, he had. But then John B was grabbing him and averting his attention to him, and he focused on his friend, promising only a minute of his time. You were in his sights, stood a bit away, and he recognised the couple you were talking to as Sarah Cameron and Topper Thorton, Kooks through and through. He held his distaste back, and even held a drink out to offer to Sarah as she and Topper made their way past where he and John B were standing. Big fucking mistake, he realised quickly.

It had all happened in a blur of events, each little bit leading to big finale - as he watched his best friend being held down in the water, powerless to Topper who kneeled over him, hands forcing John B to stay put in the sea. Sarah was screaming at Topper, Pope was holding JJ back with all his might, Kie beside them as she screamed along with Sarah to let John B go. And there you were, suddenly beside JJ, gripping his arm tightly as you took in the sight with a horrified glare. JJ didn't even hesitate; the gun had been pulled from his shorts and was directed at Topper's head in the blink of an eye.

The fury in his veins was red hot and ugly, tearing through every part of him like a vice. This was the Pogues land, their side of the island, and yet the Kooks still thought they could get away with anything and everything - including, apparently, attempting to drown his best friend.

"Your move, broski," JJ uttered through clenched teeth. He could hear the screams of the crowd behind him, and he pulled the gun away from Topper's head and into the direction of the sky, firing two shots towards it as the crowd of people quickly dispersed, screeches sounding from all over. "Now everybody needs to get the fuck off our side of the island!"

He was shoved to the side as Sarah rushed to her boyfriend, telling him he was fucking crazy or something like that, he wasn't really listening. The shots rang in his ears, and the adrenaline of the moment soured through him. Kie and Pope were screaming at him, he could hear their voices distantly. His blue eyes were unfocused for a second, before they looked up, and there you were.

Sent from the gods themselves, once again. You looked vibrant, so insanely alive, lips red and cheeks flushed, eyes bright. You let out a shaky breath as you watched him. JJ clenched his jaw.

"He was going to drown John B," he thought he'd said, but he wasn't sure. He didn't really know what to keep track of at that moment, Kie and Pope's obvious disapproval at him literally doing the one thing they swore not to do, Sarah and Topper stumbling away from the scene in the distance, John B getting up and muttering something along the lines of he wasn't going to drown me, or you, simply staring at him.

Before he knew what he was doing, JJ had made his way towards you. The gun was still held in his hands, and you swallowed thickly as you eyed it. "You should put that away," you muttered. JJ seemed confused, before he caught on to what you meant and he shoved the gun back to the spot of in between his shorts and his hip. "You literally did the one thing I said not to, you tool."

JJ cracked a smile, small and uncertain as he gazed at you. You stepped closer to him, eyes glancing over his shoulder. "You really pissed them off," you said, meaning his friends.

JJ shrugged, because he didn't care about their opinion, he cared about yours. And if you hated him now, hated the fact that he was just some dirty Pogue who held guns against people's heads now, apparently. "I don't care about what they think," he spoke softly. You looked at him confused. "I care about what you think."

You smiled softly, shrugging one shoulder. "Topper was going to drown John B," you replied, matter of fact. "If you hadn't stepped in when you did, who knew what could have happened. Nothing could have stopped him." You bit your lip, hand reaching out and touching his face gently, thumb soothing over the worried line between his brows. "You did the right thing, J. A fucking crazy and stupid thing, potientally dangerous, but the right thing nonetheless."

"Yeah, that's kind of my go-to, if you haven't already noticed," JJ smiled, tongue running over his bottom lip. You rolled your eyes, though playful. "Look, I'm sorry about before, okay. I was a dick. I know you care, but sometimes that's what scares me."

Your eyebrows furrowed, a confused expression on your face as your hand dropped from his face to intertwine with his own hand, his gaze suddenly becoming fixed on your linked hands, his other absentmindedly playing with your fingers that held his hand.

"It's like, you're this untouchable thing. I mean, you don't belong to anyone, you refuse to go by anything other than your name, and you're like this perfect mix between Pogue and Kook even if you do hate it and everyone knows who are you and they make these stories up about you, like that's how popular you are," JJ chuckled. "And then you hang out with me, you look past all the dirty Pogue shit, see me for who I am, and you care. And you care so god dammed much that it fucking terrifies me because nobody's ever cared that much before about me, so why should you?"

His hand left yours to remove the hat from sitting atop his hair and then run his hand through the blonde locks. You could see his tongue running along the outsides of his bottom teeth, the action causing a bump beneath his skin. He looked nervous than you had ever seen him before, and you'd both gotten into enough nerve-wracking situations together to compare. You sighed as your hands reached for his face, gripping his cheeks and forcing his eyes to gaze down at yours.

"JJ Maybank," you started, grinning softly. "You listen to me while I tell you that you deserve the fucking world and more. All this shit that you're going through, all the crap you deal with on a daily basis, you carry it so well that nobody would even know. You fight through each day and I don't even know how you manage it half the time. I admire you so much, J. And I can't help but care about you, even if you don't want me to. I care about you so much, that you wanna know a secret? It scares me too."

JJ gazed down at you lovingly, his forehead moving to rest against yours. You welcomed the embrace, his arms wrapping around your waist and squeezing you gently, as if reassuring himself that you were actually there.

"JJ," you whispered as you were stood in silence for a precise minute, neither of you daring to break the silence until you had. His blue eyes stared into yours, awaiting the next part of your speech. You swallowed your nerves down, figuring fuck it. "I'm so in love with you."

He grinned, his head swooping down before you knew it and his lips pressing against yours in a heated embrace that sent a sensation of butterflies to fly wildly in your stomach, bashing against your ribcage and taking your breath away. Shivers flew up your spine, and every hair on your body stood on edge as the kiss grew heavier, tongues brushing and teeth clattering, bodies pressed against each other as much as they could manage.

When JJ's lips left yours, you almost whined. JJ grinned cheekily, hands digging into your hips. "I love you," he breathed against the skin of your neck as he buried his head there, lips tickling the flesh. "I can't believe you just macked on me while I have a gun in my pocket."

You rolled your eyes and tugged gently on his hair, spurring a laugh from him as you shoved him away and grinned despite yourself. "Do not remind me, please," you warned him, allowing him to pull you into his side as you made your way down the beach. "I still can't believe you took that thing."

"I knew it'd come in handy though," he grinned, pulling you closer with the arm thrown over your shoulder. You wrapped yours around his waist, face squished in his chest as you shook your head.

"You're an idiot, Maybank."

[stae-yong]

a dream in a bottle [j.jh]

genre: fluff, romance, fantasy word count: 11.4k

Year 2059.

Everyone has lost their minds finding solace in a world full of chaos. Dreams in a bottle are now being used like a drug in order to fulfill their wildest fantasies. Have you ever dreamt so good, you never wanted to wake up?

“You’re the dream I go to, every time I close my eyes.”

a/n: this is my first jaehyun fic, and the first fic i’ve written :> please understand if i’ve made any errors. i wanted to write this since i started stanning nct and i hope you guys enjoy!! oh and listen to this, it inspired me to write this story. hopefully it could set the mood as well.

“Happy birthday to me,” y/n said dully as she blew her candle. The smoke from her two and three candles went to her eyes which made her squint. For the past week, all she ever did was cry herself to sleep thinking how miserable she would spend her birthday this week ever since her boyfriend left her for ‘his future’ which she snorted at as she remembered how his arms were wrapped around her waist as he kissed this new girl and who just enrolled in his arts class.

She then started to arrange her gifts which mostly consisted of plain old birthday cards which her so called friends just gave to her at the last minute since her existence was forgotten due to the busy days of work. As she went through her gifts, she noticed another postcard from her parents that are probably touring around Europe. She scrunched her nose in disappointment, “What a good way to start my 23rd year of living on this planet,” she muttered. Y/N stood up pushing around all the teared pieces of gift wrap as she tried to navigate herself around the living room. As she moved, she accidentally kicked a box tas was buried under piles of garbage.

A white box with pink hearts decorated around it. On the side of a box, a sticky note was attached with a letter with handwriting that was too familiar.

Dear y/n

Happy Birthday! I’m sorry we can’t spend it together this year, you know how hard life is. But I do hope you enjoy the following days with my gift. I gave this to you to spice up your birthday. It’s definitely one of a kind, I hope you could forget your dickhead of a boyfriend with this. Call me once you try it ;)

Love,

Mei.

“If this is a box of lingerie or condoms, Mei can rot in hell,” Y/N grumbled. This definitely should be worth it. She peeled the sticky note, as a remembrance of the gift as she carefully opened the box. Inside were three small bottles of iridescent liquid that seemed like it had been mixed by a 10 year old playing with glitters and water. A small card was placed above the bottles with a note saying “The best dreams happen when you are wide awake,” with several instructions to only drink one bottle every night for good results. Y/N contemplated if she should drink from it now considering that its nearly 10pm. She spent her whole day moping around her room munching on junk food while thinking about how lonely and boring her life was. Maybe this potion is worth the try, and maybe, like what Mei said, it could spice up her life.

She took the bottle in her hands shaking it a bit as she watched the small pieces of glitter swirl around as if it was luring her to drink it. At first she tasted like vanilla, smooth and milky then suddenly it turned to taste like strawberry mixed with different other fruits. Soon after, Y/N fell on her bed as she drifted off.

————

Y/N felt as if she was thrown into a whirlpool as her head continued to spin. Bright light hit her face making her squint as she tried to slowly adjust to what she was seeing. Suddenly, people started to bump her as they made their way around the city. Y/N tried to make sense of where she was, it was a city that looked like it existed way back in the 1900s with the way people dressed. Women and men of all ages walked around the street as they clung unto their loved ones. Women were dressed in puffed blouses and below the knee skirts as they topped it with a trench coat to warm them from the cold. Men, on the other hand, were wearing top hand sand white button up with suspenders that were too old-fashioned for her liking as they paired it with trousers. As Y/N continued to make sense of what was happening, she passed by a shop where she saw her reflection, she was wearing the same thing everyone was wearing.

Great, how on Earth am I supposed to figure out what to do in this dream.

As she walked around, she noticed a long queue that led to a movie theater. Everyone seemed excited to watch this new ‘musical’ that only happens once every year and that is during the 23rd of Christmas, ‘The Impossible Dream’ was its title. She noticed that every poster posted on the streets had the same title written in cursive with a time, date, and location set. As she adjusted her coat that was wrapped around her, she noticed a ticket on her right pocket.  “The Impossible Dream, 6pm,” she muttered. “I drink a stupid bottle of dream and now I have to watch a boring musical,” she added as she pouted remembering to message Mei that she won’t be drinking anymore of her gift. Her eyes wandered from the people around her to the buildings, she knew no one in this dream and the faces she see are not even close to familiar. The place itself looks like a 90s movie setting with all the broadway and lampposts hanging around.

“Excuse me, this is the end of the line, right?” Y/N turned to look around at a man around her age with caramel brown hair and smiling as his dimples poked out. She stared at him longer as she admired his features, okay, this is definitely a dream because no one else in the real world would look as good as this fine man standing behind her. “U-um, yeah,” she cleared her throat as she gave tight smile embarrassed as she was caught staring.

“Come on, you gonna pretend like you don’t know me now?” He said as he pouted. Y/N looked at him confused, never in her life did she encounter him, maybe this is a preset of the dream but she decided to play dumb instead. “Hmmm, I don’t think I remember,” she said as she tried to think of a name that matches his face.

“It’s Jaehyun,” he said as he poked her cheek with his index finger as he shook his head disappointingly. “Are you my boyfriend?” Y/N blurted out as she felt her cheeks heat up at her sudden question. Jaehyun felt flustered as his ears turned red. “Um, well, I don’t know,” he said nervously chuckling. Y/N nodded as she turned to the front once again, boyfriend or not it doesn’t matter but for sure the handsome guy standing behind her played an important role in her dream. She tried to remember if she knew any Jaehyun in the real world but no one came close. Heck, no one even looks like him. Was she really that desperate on moving on, she literally dreamed of having a boyfriend way better than her ex? Okay, maybe.

The line started moving as people made their way towards the entrance of the theater. “I didn’t know you were interested in watching musicals,” Jaehyun said as he stood beside her as they both made their way in.

“Well, maybe you don’t know a lot about me then,” she shrugged as she gave him a teasing smile. “We’ve known each other for four years and you forget my name?” He teased back as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder to move her from the people that were constantly passing by to get to their seats. Y/N felt her heartbeat speed up at the intimacy feeling his chest pressed against her shoulder as she muttered apologies to those passing by.

“Watch where you’re going,” he muttered under his breath as he looked at her. Y/N blushed as she looked up to him. The lighting in the room giving his visuals more justice as it surrounded her head making him look like he has a built in halo.

As she made her way to her seat, Jaehyun followed closely behind as they both sat together. The play started as the lights dim but Y/N couldn’t care less about what was happening in the play as she felt bothered by Jaehyun’s presence. How did he have this effect on her when he doesn’t even exist? It was also their first time meeting. She slowly shifted on her seat to face Jaehyun in a discreet way as she tried to steal a glance at him. Jaehyun noticed her shifting taking it as a sign of uncomfortableness, placing a hand gently on the area above her knee squeezing it lightly and giving her a look of concern.

Y/N froze in her seat as she looked back at Jaehyun who was staring at her worriedly, eyebrows furrowed. She looked away quickly as she cleared her throat, nudging Jaehyun’s hand away by accident as she shifted to face forward. Jaehyun chuckled as he continued to watch the musical smiling to himself. “What’s so funny?” Y/N said as she crossed her arms trying to concentrate on the show but finding it difficult with Jaehyun seated right beside her. “You should take a picture, it would last longer,” he whispered in her ear as she felt his warm breath brush against her cheeks making it heat up. Thankfully, the lights were dim and Jaehyun wouldn’t be able to see how red her cheeks were from the constant display of affection he was showing to her. She wasn’t staring, she was just trying to capture his face on her mind so that when she wakes up from this dream she could finally move on from her ex.

“I still haven’t forgiven you for what you’ve done,” Jaehyun whispers again, Y/N looks at him in confusion to see him leaning slightly to her side with eyes still focused on the show. “What have I done?” She said raising a brow. She has only been inside her dream for 20min, she barely got to do anything except stare at the piece of art seated right beside her.

Jaehyun looked at her in disbelief as he flicked her forehead earning a smack on the shoulder. “You left me in the rain, I told you to call me but you didn’t,” he said as he looked at her again. Y/N frowned, not really knowing what to say. “Sorry, I was busy,” At this point, making up stories would only be the solution to questions as it was only a dream that she may forget when she wakes up. Jaehyun continues to stare at her with an unreadable expression. He nods anyway and she gives him a small smile.

“Are you really watching this?” Y/N asks bored out of her mind as the main lead in the musical continues to cry as she longs for her love one who she only meets inside her dream.

“No, I’m just here because I like sitting beside you,” Jaehyun replies shooting her a smile, his dimples making an appearance as they always seem present when she looks at him. She scrunched her nose in disapproval, definitely too good to be true. Prince Charming likes her in her dream, her love life must definitely be fucked up for her to be dreaming about these things.

“We can get out of here if you’re bored,” Jaehyun shrugs as he took her hand gently. He jutted his chin toward the exit raising a brow, “Okay fine, but I’m not spending any money,” she muttered making Jaehyun laugh as he pulled her from her seat. She didn’t even know how she would able to live in this dream.

As they walked around the streets, Y/N tried to ask more about herself so that she wouldn’t have to lie all the time she entered this dream. Never in her life did she experience a dream so realistic, lately, she had troubles sleeping and if she ever got to dream, it would be long forgotten the moment she woke up. A warm hand wrapped around her cold one pulling her out of her thoughts, her gaze shifted from the street to Jaehyun who was grinning at her.

“Do you remember how we met?” She asked as he swayed their hands playfully while walking. “Of course, it was definitely my favorite day,” he chuckled as he recalled how they first met. It was the first day of university and Jaehyun was late. It definitely wasn’t a good first impression to his professors considering how he got into the university because of a basketball scholarship, he used to be a star player back in high school which led him to many offers from big schools that wanted him as the ‘face’ of their team. Although, Jaehyun chose the one closest to his home as he didn’t want to stray farther away from his family, at the same time, his friends attended the same university as him. He tried to discreetly make his way inside the classroom as his professor continued to scribble on the board. Sitting down on the farthest seat as possible, he tried to catch up on the lesson they were having

“Excuse me, is this seat taken?” He heard a small voice say as he shifted his gaze. There she stood in front of him, wearing a yellow dress with her brown hair softly framing her small face accentuating her brown eyes that seem to hold the stars. Jaehyun gulped nervously as he shifted on his seat.

“No, you can sit here whenever you want,” he said a bit too excitedly as he continued to stare at her. The girl gave him a small smile as she sat slid on the seat beside him taking out her notebook and pen.

“I’m Y/N, by the way,” she whispered extending her arm which Jaehyun stared at a bit for too long, “Not that it matte-“ before she could put down her hand Jaehyun grabbed her hand firmly with a smile. “Jaehyun,” he said smiling which made her flustered. “Care to share why you’re late?” He whispered as he tried to start a conversation without getting caught by the professor. He didn’t even understand what was being taught anymore as all his attention was occupied by the girl seated beside him. “The traffic was too bad, why are you late?” She shrugged as she leaned closer to him with a teasing smile. Jaehyun snorted as he slightly bumped his shoulder with hers. They were close already despite the small amount of time they knew each other, “You’re watching me?” He teased as he raised an amused brow at her. Her nose scrunched as she bopped his nose with her pen. “No, I saw you make your way through the door earlier and decided to seat beside you,” she chirped making Jaehyun’s heart flutter. “If I knew better, I would say you stalk me,” he replied trying to brush off the tremble in his voice caused by the amount of flips his heart was making. “Just interested,” she beamed and diverted her attention back to the board. Jaehyun took a glance at her shaking his head at their exchange, silently taking note that he should definitely get her number after this class.

Y/N looked at Jaehyun with an unamused expression as he shrugged, “It’s true though! You tried to hit on me on the first day,” he said earning a punch on the shoulder. “I don’t think that’s how it went though!” She retorted blushing as she didn’t even know if Jaehyun made everything up. It was her first time meeting him, yet in this dream it seems that she’s been in it for years already. She did, however, like how straight forward she was based on Jaehyun’s story, maybe she did like herself better in this dream.

“You asked for my number, so basically, you hit on me,” she stucked her tongue out as she harshly tugged Jaehyun in what she feels like the direction of her house is. Jaehyun pulled her back as they stopped under a lamp post with the light illuminating his face in all the right angles. He leaned close until they were eye-contact level as Y/N tried to keep a blank expression even if her heart was basically going to burst from how close Jaehyun’s face was from hers as she tried to remember all the small details of his face. “You said you were interested first, so I guess I win this argument,” he said smiling at her. Y/N brushed it off as he pushed his face away with her index finger. Jaehyun then wrapped his arms around her waist as he pulled her closer making her grab his forearms for support at the sudden action. “What are you doing?” She said nervously as he started to sway from side to side as he looked at her making her blush at the sudden attention he was giving her. There was no way he couldn’t see how red she was right now. “Dancing, we used to do this all the time,” he said as he continued to sway to some tune he was humming. “I don’t know how to dance,” she muttered as she looked down trying her hardest not to step on his feet. “It’s fine, I can lead,” he said confidently as he continued to stare down at her making her stare at his chest as she couldn’t meet his eyes.

“Hey Y/N,” he mentions when he noticed how quiet she has gone. “Hmmm?” She replies looking up to him as she stared at the area between his brows, his eyes too much for her to take, afraid that if she looks at him she might as well just kiss him there. “I really like dancing here with you but do you mind?” He says as he looked down. Y/N followed his gaze and saw her shoe lace untied itself probably because she kept stepping on them as they danced.

“Oh, let me-“ as she tried to bend down to tie it, Jaehyun pulled her up lightly by the arm as he kneeled before her making her flustered she looked around for people as he basically looked like he was proposing to her. “I can’t have you fall for anyone else,” he grinned as he tried to stifle a laugh. Y/N huffed as she nudged him strong enough for him to fall backwards catching himself with his arms as he tried to stand up.

She walked quickly as she tried to go to what seemed like her house, with Jaehyun following closely behind her as he jogged trying to keep up with her speed. “You’re welcome,” he winked making her flustered once again as she crossed her arms. “I’m home now, aren’t you going?” She said though she really didn’t want him to go yet. She didn’t even know if that was her house but it seemed like it, somehow it just felt right to be there at that moment. Jaehyun chuckled as he took a step back putting his hands in his pockets.

“I hope you had fun today,” he smiled as he ruffled her hair. Y/N nodded as she entered her ‘house’. “Stay safe, Jaehyun,” she said softly as she took one last look at him. Before she could close the door, she felt Jaehyun stop it.

“Wait, before you go,” he held the door with one hand and the other finding the back of her head as his lips lightly touched her forehead. Y/N felt her heartbeat speed up as she closed her eyes at the feeling of his soft lips on her forehead.

“Meet me in your dreams,” he said as he smiled at her before finally closing the door.

——

Y/N jolted awake as she heaved heavy breaths. She felt as if she ran a marathon with how fast her heart was beating. She was back in her bedroom as she looked around. Nothing seemed to change, except the small box that was on top of her bedside table with now only two bottles of dreams. She sighed as she checked the time, she was out for about twelve hours already, although, in her dream only a small amount of time has passed. As she made her way out her apartment, she received a call from Mei.

“So how was it?” Mei asked enthusiastically as y/n could feel her interest on the other end of the line. Sighing she continued to walk down the streets in boredom, wasting time on finding something that would catch her eye.

“I didn’t know a dream could be realistic,” she muttered back. “And there’s this guy,” she added as she thought of this is really a great time to mention a character from her dream, especially to Mei, she woulld probably think she’s gone crazy. “What guy? Are you seeing someone?” The other responded, desperate to know if her friend has finally moved on. “What? No, I mean yes,” Y/N defended.

“It’s not about my ex, actually, there was someone in my dream.” She said. “I don’t really know if I met him before, but his features are very new to me. And you know what they say, that our minds can’t make up images, and everyone in our dream is someone we have met or saw before,” she added. There was no way she saw Jaehyun, if she did then she would probably remember him judging by how good looking he was. “Really? Well, you probably saw him in streets before,” Mei reasoned as y/n could only nod in response even if Mei couldn’t see her. “Anyway, you should really make that worth it. I heard the manufacturer of the shop closed down,” she mentioned as you made your way into a small coffee shop you saw across the street which seemed quite popular judging by the amount of female customers in there.

“Well, I only have two bottles left. I’ll call you when I finish it. Thanks for the gift by the way,” y/n replied as she ended the call

The cafe she entered was small, yet had a homely feeling to it. There was an amount of middle schoolers who look like they just finished school lining up as they perked their heads towards the counter. Y/N squinted as she saw the cute cashier and barista taking their orders. The cashier with white hair that for some reason seemed to match his big intimidating eyes and sharp nose and jawline. He wasn’t as big as the barista, but his body complimented his features as he smiled towards the group of girls who tried to catch his attention. The barista, on the other hand, was tall and had broad shoulders. His hair was dyed black, but he seemed really friendly despite his strong aura.

When it was her turn to order, she now understood why a lot of women in this city practically visited this shop everyday. From afar, she noticed how good-looking the staff were in the cafe, but now looking at them up close made her throat dry.

“I would like one iced latte,” she said shyly as the cashier smiled at her. She squinted her eyes at his name tag, Taeyong. Cute. “Are you new here?” Taeyong said as he pressed numbers on his screen for her order.

“Umm, I live around here. But it’s my first time in this cafe,” she mentioned as she looked around trying to distract herself from meeting his eyes.

“Cool, may I have your name?” He chirped as he smiled again towards her raising his brow. Y/N furrowed her brows as she stared back at him, “A-are you trying to ask me out?” She stuttered bewildered at the sudden question. Taeyong laughed as the barista behind him accidentally knocked a cup off as he turned around to look at her stifling a laugh as well. “What? Um, you’re cute but I need it for the cup,” he gestured raising a cup in his hand making y/n embarrassed as she heard the girls from behind whisper about how assuming she was.

“Oh, sorry,” she said lowly as she muttered her name quickly and paying as she moved to get her order.

——

Y/N sat on her bed holding the box of two bottles. Taking one, she shook it again as she saw the swirl of iridescent liquid calling her in. The whole time she mentally prepared herself for what was to come. To say she was excited to meet Jaehyun again was an understatement, she wanted to take the bottle again as soon as she stepped home but she remembered that there was only two left.

She took one bottle out deeply breathing in and out as she downed it all feeling the familiar taste touch her lips as she entered her dream once again.

When she woke up again she was in a garden, sitting up right as she felt something on her lap shift. Looking around, she noticed she was still in the same setting as before only, it was day and everything seemed bright as people continued to walk around minding their own business.

“You look beautiful from this angle down here, but I would appreciate it if you would look at me too,” a voice says as she looked down only to see Jaehyun lying down on her lap staring up at her with a small smile on his face. She blushed once again when she saw him, last night she thought he was breathtaking under the lamp post but under the sun he looked so much better with freckles scattered on his cheeks his eyes a lighter shade of brown and his dimples, ever so present, poking out.

“You were saying?” She says as Jaehyun stood up from her lap. “I’m starting to think you don’t pay attention to anything I say,” he complained as he dusted himself. Y/N stared right at him, wondering what they would do next.

“I need you to accompany me. I have this project going on and Johnny’s too busy to go with me,” he said as he took her hand. She wasn’t sure who Johnny was but she assumed he was his friend. Though she didn’t mind what his character would mean in her dream as he hasn’t showed up yet. She noted to herself that later on she would figure out who Johnny was and probably make the most of the second bottle she took. As they neared a building that look somewhat like a huge library, Jaehyun pulled her in a hurry as they made their way through old books.

Y/N groaned as she watched Jaehyun scan through the book once again trying to find the right thing. It was her dream, why is nothing interesting happening. “Jaehyun, what am I to you?” She asked as Jaehyun’s attention quickly went to her. His ears reddened as he rubbed the back of his neck shyly, “You said you weren’t my boyfriend. And you kissed me on my forehead, so who are you?” She asked as she hesitated mentioning that kiss as she felt herself become shy as she remembered how she woke up right after. Jaehyun nervously chuckled, to be honest, he himself did not know what their stand was. All he knew was that he wanted to protect her, and that he wanted to be with her always. It was all he ever knew since he met her, it was as if it was a role given to him by the gods to stand by her side no matter what.

“I’m not sure y/n, what do you want us to be?” He asks unsurely afraid of the rejection he might receive. Silently praying she won’t say ‘friends’. Y/N was taken aback as the question was thrown back at her. She didn’t know what they were supposed to be, nor did she know Jaehyun as much as he claims to know her.

Seeing the hesitation on her face, Jaehyun felt disappointed but decided to brush off the thought. “It’s okay, you don’t have to think about it.” He said as he gave her a pained smile which wasn’t unnoticed by y/n. “I can wait,” he said under his breath as he looked at her. Y/N looked at him in surprise, it was her dream. She could say whatever she wants, “I like you,” she blurted out as she waited for his reaction. Jaehyun’s ears, if possible, became more red as he heard her confession. He tried to stop the smile forming on his lips as he put back the book on the shelf.

“Well, that’s great because,” he said taking a step near her as he held both of her hands in his. “I am absolutely smitten by you,” he added ash he wrapped his arms around her shoulders pulling her into a hug. Y/N smiled as her cheeks hurt. She hugged him back, now this is definitely one of her best dreams ever. “Does that mean we can go on dates now?” She said as she pulled back. If she could live in a dream, then she would want to live in this dream forever.

Jaehyun grinned, “Lucky for you I booked us a date,” he said as he winked.

“Okay, maybe I don’t like you anymore,” y/n said as she made her way out of the library with Jaehyun laughing a bit too loud behind her.

————

As they made their way out of the library, Y/N found her hand once again wrapped around Jaehyun as he intertwined their fingers together. She smiled at Jaehyun’s affection. It was as if his hand automatically finds hers wherever they go.

As you both walked hand in hand, Jaehyun led you to a planetarium. “Have you ever been?” Jaehyun asks as he navigates his way through the streets. Constantly pulling you aside as you try to avoid people walking the opposite direction.

“I’ve never been to one actually,” you say wondering if you’ve ever been to one with your ex. To think of it, you really didn’t have enough time in the real world to explore the city during your past relationship. You were either curled up in your apartment or burrying your head in books. The dates you had previously were just last minute decisions as if he was just forced to take you out because you were together. But this time, with Jaehyun, it seems as if you actually got what you deserve. It may seem cheesy, but your heart fluttered when Jaehyun mentioned that he actually planned this date. It could be a preset in the dream, but that didn’t matter to y/n, all that mattered was that someone took the time to care for her and remind her how special she is. Even if that someone doesn’t really exist, she chose to ignore the thought. If there was a person who would break your heart again, you would be honored to have your heart broken by Jaehyun. And even with a broken heart, you would choose to love Jaehyun with all those little pieces.

“You should see the stars, they shine as bright as you,” Jaehyun added as they made their way through the planetarium. There wasn’t much people walking through, and everyone was speaking in hushed voices. As they walked through the planetarium, they entered a dark room with only the ceiling illuminated by galaxies and small celestial beings. Jaehyun looked at you with a small smile playing on his lips. He was fascinated by the way your eyes seem to shine even in the dark, like your eyes held the most beautiful stars as you admired the projected ceiling of light. Y/N then looked at Jaehyun who was still staring at her in awe. “You should take a picture, it would last longer,” she beamed as he scoffed lightly.

“So you steal lines now?” he said with an amused brow lightly applauding her sarcastically as you shoved him on his shoulder. “What else do I steal?” she said as they made their way around the room. “Probably my heart,” Jaehyun shrugged as he felt his ears turn red. He quickly looked up inspecting the ceiling as Y/N shot him a look of disapproval.

“If I wish on that star,” Y/N said pointing to a projected shooting star, “will my wish count?” you asked as you stared at Jaehyun whose eyes are still trained towards the ceiling as he looked at the constellations.

Jaehyun laughed as he put his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Maybe,” he said as he looked up. Y/N closed her eyes as she clasped her hands together. She knew it was pathetic, to be making a wish in this dream. But her pleas and prayers didn’t seem enough to calm her desperate heart.

I wish I could live in this dream a little longer.

They both sat down in the middle as they continued to enjoy each other’s presence. No one was around anymore as it seemed like the whole planetarium closed. Y/N already lost track of time, she didn’t know what has already happened to her in the real world, but for sure she was sleeping for the whole day already. Jaehyun, on the other hand, was still deep in thought as he slowly laid down on the floor with an arm tucked behind his head as a pillow, the other resting on his stomach.

“Do you ever feel like somewhere out there, there’s another version of us doing the exact same thing we are doing now?” he mentions as he continues to stare into space. Y/N glances at him and copies his position as she adjusted herself to be laying down beside him. Not really knowing what to say, Jaehyun took it as a sign to continue.

“I feel like I’ve been living in a cycle. It sucks really cause everyone I know either forget me, or they space out. Or it was as if I never really know them to begin with,” he says, frustration clear in his voice. His eyebrows furrowed as he continued to stare into the black space displayed on the ceiling. “You know, the other day, Johnny acted as if he didn’t really know me. I don’t even know if he was playing with me but it was like it was his first time seeing me,” he added as he turned to meet your eyes that were just focused on him. “It’s like how we saw each other back in the theater, you both acted the same way,” he pushed himself up as he supported himself with his arms.

“It’s the same every fucking time. I meet someone knew, we get to know each other, then all of a sudden they forget who I am,”

“I feel like I’m a character in someone’s dream,” Y/N gulped nervously as she slowly sat up. Jaehyun still confused as he blankly stared at his lap. Y/N didn’t know what to say, she didn’t know how to tell him that he was right and he was just a figment of her imagination and that all of this was from a stupid bottle her friend gave her for her birthday. You were scared to say something, afraid that revealing the truth would mean that you would wake up and that meant that you only had one bottle left to be with Jaehyun. Y/N grabbed his hand and gave it a light squeeze with a smile, hopefully, assuring him that everything will be alright.

“Promise me one thing,” he says as he faced her seriously. You nodded in response as you waited. “Don’t forget me,” he says carefully watching her reaction. Y/N chuckled as she shook her head, “That’s easy to do, Jae,” she laughed as she shaked their intertwined hands playfully. “Promise me you’ll also stay,” he added seriously. Y/N froze when she heard his words. To forget him was hard, she could remember him everyday when she woke up. But to stay was another thing, how could she stay when she only had one bottle left? How could she stay when he was just a character in her dream? How could she stay with someone who only exists in her memory?

She looked back at him, and the moment she did, she quickly regretted her actions. He was looking at her with so much hope in his eyes. Noticing her silence, the hope in his eyes turned into grim acceptance as he felt her hesitation. Y/N squeezed his hand making him look back at her. She had no idea what came in her, but she decided if its for Jaehyun, she would try.

“I promise,” she said firmly, eyes burning with determination. After all, a broken promise is better than none at all.

——

Y/N felt dizzy as she tried to get up from her bed as she leaned towards the bed stand to get her phone. Her mouth fell dry, remembering the promise she made Jaehyun as she dialed Mei’s number. “Help, I need to do something,” she said as soon as the line was answered.

“What is it this time? Did you finish the bottles already?” Mei asked groaning in response as you called too early for her liking. “No, tell me where you bought the bottles,” she said as she tried to balance her phone between her shoulder and ear as she wore pants. “I need to find who made those bottles,” she added disappointed at the lack of response from the latter. “I’ll send them to you, but I don’t think they’re open,” Mei replied, y/n sighed. She didn’t know why she made that promise, or how she would fulfill it. Back in her dream, everything seemed possible but now, all that was left was empty words that she regrets saying. She didn’t even know why she had a need to keep the promise to Jaehyun, he didn’t even exist to her disappointment.

After she received Mei’s message, she quickly headed out to go to the said shop. Her heart pounded nervously as she drove to the address. It was in a secluded part of town, there was no residential area near it and it seemed like a place that no one frequented to judging by the lack of public transportation that went to the area. She had to take a cab, and the look the driver gave her meant that it wasn’t a place to be in in the first place. As she stared at the shop in front of her, she suddenly felt so alone as the cab quickly left blowing a gust of wind. The small bells tingled when she walked in. The store was small and cramped with only a small counter near the end as she tried her best not to step on any of the antique items that were for display. Ringing the small bell on the table, she tried to inspect the place a bit more.

Her eyes squinted as she spotted a familiar poster hanging on the wall between two large dream catchers. ‘The Impossible Dream’ it read as small details were printed around. Her eyes widened in shock. It was the same poster from her dream, could it be that the musical actually existed? Would that mean Jaehyun existed? Before she tried to move further to get a closer look a stern voice spoke from behind the counter.

“What brings you here? We are closed,” her head whipped to the direction of the voice. There stood an old woman who was smaller than her with her white hair tied neatly up in a bun, eyes narrowing towards Y/N.

“That poster, where did you get it?” You said pointing in the direction of it as you tried your best not to falter in front of her gaze that seemed too strong for you to handle.

“That poster was made years ago by my ancestors, does it look familiar to you?” The old lady replied. Y/N nodded in response still debating whether the possibility of Jaehyun existing was real or not. “You took the bottles, didn’t you?” The old lady pressed on as Y/N muttered a small yes. “That was a mistake, you should have never taken it in the first place. I suggest you go home and continue on with your life, dark magic is not to be played with,” she said as she made her way towards the door behind the counter.

“No! Wait, I have some questions,” Y/N protested as she tried to block the old lady from disappearing.

“Forget about it now, what you experienced is not real,” the old lady said as she tried to make her way around you. Y/N continued to block her way which made the old lady sigh. You really didn’t want to give her a hard time considering her age, but you didn’t want to leave without unanswered questions.

“You say the dream I had wasn’t real, but why does that poster exist?” Y/N said as she moved to grab the poster that was hanging on the wall. It was designed exactly like what she saw on her dream. “What is this? What is in those bottles?” She gestured desperately waiting for an answer. The old lady sighed, grabbing a small stool and sitting down. “Those are bottles of dreams, my grandmother and my mother used to make it when I was still a child, telling me that one day it would change the world and that people would go crazy to get a sip of what was in it,”

“These bottles allow people to live in their deepest desires, everything you see in your dream is just a figment of your imagination. The potion lets you have what you want,” she added as she gestured towards the poster. “Luckily for you, what you desire isn’t that bad. But for others, it became too much. I stopped selling the bottles because things could get out of hand,” she said sadly. Y/N felt like the weight of her promise was crashing down on her. There was too much information for her to handle, the fact that Jaehyun did not exist made her sick. “I know you’re sad, everyone does once they find out they can’t have what they desire. But if it makes you feel any better, I can tell you one secret,” the old lady says hesitating as she finds the hope in your eyes glint at her words. “This poster, I am guessing you have seen it before in one of your dreams?” She questions as she holds it up in the light. Y/N nodded, “I want to know if the person I see in my dreams is true, or perhaps, I am holding on to this impossibility that he is true,” she mutters as she remembers Jaehyun. She only had one bottle left, meaning it would be the last time she would see him.

“This poster appeared here two days ago, I don’t know how it got here but I assume it is something from a dream. Just like everything in this shop,” the old lady said gesturing towards the other antique items. Everything was so random, as if it was just dumped with whatever things people could find.

“I am not sure if your dreams are real, and if the people do exist. But judging from how everything keeps appearing in random, they might be somewhere out there,” she added. Y/N breathed deeply, there was no assurance of Jaehyun existing in this world, but the existence of the poster means that he would probably appear in this shop if he were to be created. The poster alone ignited her desire to find him. If he did exist, where was he?

“Thank you, if you see anyone appear here around my age. Tall, white, handsome, basically looks like a prince, please let me know,” Y/N says as she leaves her phone number. The old lady chuckled, “Isn’t that too childish for a woman like you?” She says amused at your desperation to find this boy. “He’s a dream come true, can’t let anyone get to him,” y/n replies as she made her way out.

When Y/N returned home, she felt exhausted. She didn’t want to take her last bottle just yet. It could be her last chance of seeing Jaehyun, if what the old lady said was false. But seeing how the poster showed up, as well as other things that were in the shop, it gave her hope that Jaehyun existed somewhere out there. Another thing that bothered her was the fact that if he was out there, where was he? She didn’t even know where to start finding him. She hoped that he lived in the same country for her, she didn’t have enough money to find him if he were abroad. Nor did she think she was willing to find a man who basically existed based on her imagination. Even if he did live under the same skies, it was still to difficult task to do.

What’s the most you would be willing to do for the person you love?

Y/N took the last bottle of dreams, determined to keep her promise to Jaehyun. Adjusting once again to the bright light, when she woke up, she was seated on a chair in what seems like her room in her dream. She was wearing a white maxi dress that hugged her figure in all the right places, long enough to pool on the floor while she sat down. Her hair flowed down her back with curls toward the ends as her face was dolled with light make up.

Taking a good look of herself, she was satisfied with how she looked. If this was the last thing Jaehyun would see, then she was happy that he would see her at her best. When the doorbell rang, she made her way towards the door with a heavy heart as she reminded herself that this was her last bottle. When she opened the door, she smiled as she took in the sight of Jaehyun infront of her. His hair was gelled back with a fringe curled infront of his forehead. He was wearing a plain black suit and tie with a white dress shirt under. He held up a bouquet of fresh daisies as his cheeks were lightly pink from the cold (he tried to convince himself). “For you,” he shyly said, dimples making an appearance once again, he handed over the daisies as he stared down on his feet shuffling as he felt flustered by your presence.

Y/N pouted, he was the man of her dreams. Literally. She hoped she only drank half of the bottle now, because she definitely wanted to see Jaehyun dressed up like this for the rest of her life.

“What’s the matter?” Jaehyun said worried as he saw your lack of response. Taking your hand lightly, he rubbed small circles in the back of your hand as his other took your chin beneath his thumb and point finger. “Stop frowning, you look beautiful in that dress,” he complimented.

“You’re too good looking, I don’t think I can go with you anymore,” you reply trying to play off the somber mood as you give him a reassuring smile. Jaehyun chuckled, “You should see yourself,”

Both entered the venue, to say that it was extravagant was an understatement. It looked like a greek god threw a party, out of a sudden, Y/N felt out of place with all the people passing by looking like they were raised with a golden spoon. Feeling Jaehyun’s arm snake around her waist pulling her closer towards him, she glance at him sending him a small smile as she tries to gain confidence. “It’s fine, we can leave once you feel uncomfortable,” he says as he guides her towards the entrance. “Who has the money to throw this party? It looks ethereal,” Y/N loudly whispers shooting a fake smile to the guards who welcome both of you. “Moon Taeil, he’s a friend of mine,” Jaehyun replies as he inspects the place. Y/N looks around as she admires the gold chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and tall white pillars around the place with gold vines wrapped around it.

“By the way, you look ethereal,” Jaehyun whispers close to her ear, his lips brushing against her earlobe making her flush. He leads her to their table and leaves to get the drinks which makes y/n snap back to her plan. Honestly, she really did not have a plan. She didn’t know how she should spend her last bottle, but for sure she had to act quickly. She thought of hugging Jaehyun or at least holding his hand tight enough for her to bring him to reality, but everything seems pathetic at this point. Looking around, she decided to go to the restroom to at least settle with a final plan. As she made her way through the hallways, she looks at the pictures hanging on the wall. It all looked like some portrait of a royal family, but one picture has caught her eye. Narrowing her gaze, she inspects a picture of a woman probably around her 20s with eyes set forward as if it was staring at her back.

“Where did I see this before?” Y/N mutters under her breath as she stared longer at the woman. Shit, it was the same woman from the shop, only a younger version. Her eyes widened, as she tried to find more pictures of the woman. Y/N slowly tried to reach for the frame, carefully touching it as she tried to find a trace of anything that could help her to bring Jaehyun to reality. Biting on her lip, she continues down the hall in desperation to find hints. As she neared the end, she felt a gust of wind blow towards her.

Turning around, she finds herself in the middle of the street. It was the same street where she met Jaehyun, the first time she appeared in her dream. She looks around and notices the same poster hanging around. Breathing deeply she turns around once again, “What the fuck is going on?” She asks herself.

“Excuse me, where am I?” She asked as she grabbed an arm of a woman who was walking down the street. The girl ignored her like a ghost as she shook her arm of and continued to walk as if nothing happened. Y/N tried asking different people but they all pretended as if they couldn’t hear her. She continued to walk down the streets, noticing a familiar building. The shop she visited, the one with the old lady.  Y/N tried opening the door, continuously pounding on it with her fists. “Hello! I need some help, I’m the girl from awhile ago!,” she pleaded as she continued to pound the door with her fists. “Please help me,” she cried out as she shook the door handle. After numerous attempts of trying to open the door, she decided to go back.

“Jaehyun, where are you,” she said feeling her eyes water as she ran around trying to find him in the crowd. Closing her eyes, she tried to control her dream. “I am in the party, I am with Jaehyun,” she chanted, eyes tightly shut as she clenched her fists. Her cheeks wet with streaks of tears that have escaped her eye.

Opening her eyes again, she finds herself in a bathroom. Heaving deep breaths, she looks around her cautiously, afraid that she would lose herself in her dream. After wiping her tears, she made her way towards the party. She finds Jaehyun in the corner talking to a woman around her age her hair long and straight. She looked smaller next to his bigger frame and her eyes were sparkling, y/n was not sure if it was from the light or was it just really her. The woman laughed lightly at what Jaehyun says as she gives him a charming smile. She matched the princess in fairy tales looking as regal as Jaehyun could be. This made y/n sad, it was her dream all along, but if she couldn’t bring Jaehyun to reality then he might as well just live his happily ever after with this woman.

But she might be able to bring him with her, and she wasn’t going to back down without a fight. Y/N clenched her fists, I was gone for a while and this idiot didn’t even try to find me, feeling the green monster in her heart rise she huffed out loud stomping over to the both of them.

“What happened to drinks?” She said making Jaehyun jolt at her sudden presence. “I was just about to get it,” Jaehyun answers as he glances at Y/N. “This is Naeun, a friend of mine, and this is Y/N,” he says gesturing to the both of you. Naeun gives her a small smile raising a hand, while Y/N continued to stare at her blankly.

“His girlfriend,” you scoff as you glared at Jaehyun. “I didn’t know it could take you fifteen minutes to get a drink,” she mocked as Jaehyun looked at her with an amused smile. “I just got here, what are you talking about?” He replied. Y/N raised her brow, “I went to the bathroom,” she argued back. Naeun looked at the two, excusing herself as she didn’t want to get caught up between them. “I just sat you down though,” Jaehyun pouted at her response not liking that she was upset with him. Y/N was confused, didn’t she just get lost in her dream? Or did time just stop and everything continued to flow for her? She decided to drop the topic, sitting down on the stool next to him.

“Doesn’t matter, who is she?” She questioned jutting her chin towards Naeun’s direction as she took a sip from the Andy Player Jaehyun ordered from her directing her attention towards the front avoiding his teasing eyes. “Just a friend from high school,” he said taking a seat as well as he took a sip of his drink, his smiling growing wider at her reaction. Y/N rolled her eyes as she played with the liquid in her glass, “Sure, you seem happy to be reunited,” she mocked, jealousy coating her words. “Hmmm, are you jealous?” Jaehyun asked as he leaned one arm on the counter looking at her with a teasing smile she would like to wipe off his face because not only did he irritatingly looked too good to be true, the veins in his arms were also distracting. Fuck Jaehyun and his rolled up sleeves, Y/N found it unfair, he looked like God’s favorite.

“No, why would I be jealous?” She said defensively taking another sip of her drink. “I don’t care who you mingle with,” she dragged on with a tone as she stuck her tongue out. Jaehyun laughed, “Really?  Cause I don’t remember asking me to be your boyfriend,” he added. Y/N chocked on her spit at his statement as she glared at him, “Forget I said that,” though she secretly liked how he seemed to be fine with that title. “To be honest, I really don’t want to,” he retorted. Y/N flushed as she felt herself shrink on her seat.

“I want to dance with my girlfriend, may I?” Jaehyun stated as he offered her a hand, smiling as he raised his brows making Y/N scoff. She really wanted him to stop, it wasn’t good for her heart that probably did a thousand of flips at every word he says.

She took his hand as they made their way towards the dance floor, Jaehyun’s arms wrapped around her waist as he pulled her closer, his other arm guarding each of her hand to wrap around his neck as they found themselves back to her waist. Y/N felt bittersweet, remembering the first time they saw each other and how they were in the exact same position just in a different setting. Jaehyun hummed with the slow song that was playing, lightly mumbling the lyrics with his baritone voice, as his smile never left his face, “This feels familiar,” he says lightly chuckling as he guided her once again through their dance. Y/N this time, only looked at him, no longer looking at her feet. “I think I could get used to this,” she replies making Jaehyun’s smile grow wider, his ears turning red.

“I may have not told you this earlier, but you look beautiful tonight,” he said face serious as they continued to sway to the music. “I mean, you look beautiful everyday, but you look extra pretty now,” he added. Y/N’s face scrunched up in disapproval, never fond of compliments but ever so receiving when it comes to Jaehyun.

“You look handsome as always, Jae,” she said sincerely, lips quirking up slightly at the new nickname she gave him.

Y/N glanced at Jaehyun once more as he continued to guide her carefully through the dance, her heart heavy as it seems that the thought of him not existing in reality would not leave her alone. Hesitating, she looks one more at the smile he has on his face, she really doesn’t want to hurt him. I don’t think I have it in me to hurt you, ever.

“I lo-“

“Jaehyun, I have to tell you something,” she says cutting him off as he was about to say something. Jaehyun looked at her surprise but smiled understandingly, this can wait, I can wait, l just a little bit more, he thought.

They went to the garden, there were still people walking around but less compared to those inside. Y/N’s heart was beating too loud she could hear it in her dream, she has to risk it. She needed to tell him, she had to tell him. “Just let me speak, and I’ll answer all your questions later,” she says as he looked at her curiously. Jaehyun nodded in response, encouraging her to continue as he grabbed both her hands to help her calm down.

“You don’t exist, you’re a part of my dream,” she said as she looked at Jaehyun whose eyebrows just furrowed, pursing his lips as to stop him from asking questions.

“It was my 23rd birthday two days ago, my friend gave me a gift of bottles that contained dreams. I thought it was bullshit at first, but the moment I drank the first bottle, I met you. And I don’t know how to tell you this, but you’re just a part of my imagination. It pains me to say it, but I don’t think I could hide the truth from you anymore. The next time I met you, it was when we were at the park, I remember you asking me how I spaced out and how I seem not to pay attention. It was because I wasn’t mentally present when you were speaking to me. All those times I met you, I fell in love with you because you were all I ever wanted, and it hurts me to think that I can’t even have you in my life,”

  Y/N’s tears continued to roll down her face as she sobbed trying to gather her thoughts as Jaehyun looked at her with a mix of confusion and frustration. “This night, I drank my last bottle,” she says voice shaking as she felt Jaehyun’s hands stiffen under her hold.

“Remember when we made our wishes? I wished to live longer in this dream,” she says as he hugged her. Her tears drenching his suit, but that didn’t matter. This maybe her last moments with him, and her heart was hurting too much for her to take.

“Jaehyun, I love you,” she sobbed. She said it, without hesitation as she looked at Jaehyun with teary eyes. Jaehyun bit his lip, he didn’t even know where to start asking. He hugged her tightly as he felt his tears touch his lips, the taste salty as it continued to flow down his face. “I won’t tell you mine, because it won’t come true if I do,” he says as he puts a hand on his shoulder his face bending down to meet her eyes. His other hand brushed the stray strands against her face as she continued to cry.

“I shouldn’t be crying like this, we shouldn’t be doing this,” she said as she wiped her tears away trying to think of happy thoughts.

“Y/N, look at me,” Jaehyun said seriously. His hands with a firm grip on his shoulder. Y/N tried to hold back her tears as she saw the pain on his eyes, long gone the smiles he gave her earlier.

“Promise me, you’ll try,”  Y/N nodded as she grabbed his face and pressed a firm kiss on his lips.

“Don’t leave me, please,”

“I won’t, I swear,”

—————

Y/N woke up, her cheeks still wet as she felt tears stream down her face. Everything felt so real, the kiss, the confession, the promises. Jaehyun’s words still echoing in her mind as if she could hear his deep voice whispering beside her.

The moment she got up she tried contacting the old woman, and going back to the shop only to find that it was closed already and was going to be demolished soon. It has been a week since she last saw Jaehyun, a week since she has drank her last dream in a bottle. However, the heartache she went through was still as fresh as it was when she woke up. She tried her best to find him. She visited different libraries, reading on books about what happened to her and if there was a way to reverse it. She even tried going to a planetarium in hopes of finding Jaehyun there, but all found nothing. Some people thought she was crazy, and that she was hallucinating everything, but they didn’t know her story.

She even found the same venue where they had the ball, but to her disappointment, she never found anything that could lead her to Jaehyun or vice versa. It was if he was just a memory she was to forget. But that was the problem, she couldn’t forget him. She promised him she would try, and she didn’t want to let him down. Sometimes, she wondered what he was doing. Was he also trying to escape her mind? Was he with Naeun now that she was gone? Does she get those cheesy pickup lines he tells her? What was he doing now? Did he love her?

There were times when she tried to dream of him, but it wasn’t real. All she got was an image of him, but it didn’t feel like how she dreamt of him when she had the bottle. She tried to widen her imagination, and picture him with her. But it was too tiring for her, after all, she only had three nights of dreams.

As she made her way down the busy streets, she walked quickly as she navigated her way towards the central park as she continued to avoid the people bumping her while they were walking the opposite direction. She stopped in front of the cafe, heaving deep breaths. As she made her way in she walked towards the table in the corner, her lips forming into a smile as she saw the familiar face.

“It’s been a while,” she said hugging Mei. Mei grinned back at her and gestured her to sit down.

“So, how’s life so far?” Mei asked enthusiastically as she sipped on her tea, crossing her legs as she leaned forward. Y/N shrugged as she took a bite of her banana cake, “Nothing much, it’s been boring lately,” she said as she stabbed the banana cake and stuffing another piece into her mouth. “You know you never called me after the second bottle,” Mei huffed.

“Nothing happened, I tried to find the manufacturer because I needed more but the building was demolished,” she replied bitterly. “Ohh yeah, but the dreams were good right?” Mei responded.

“Yeah, too good to be true,” Y/N replied dejectedly. “Do you ever like, want your dreams to come true?” She asked Mei curiously as she bit her fork. “Of course, why the sudden question?” Mei retorted. “I dreamt about this guy, and he’s wonderful. He’s everything I’ve ever wanted, and I just wished he was true,” she replies sighing remembering Jaehyun once again which made her feel bittersweet. It was like she was the only one who knew him inside out, he literally was the man of her dreams.

“I don’t know what you dreamt about but whatever it is, I guess those bottles really work then,” Mei shrugged. “Besides, attachment is the root of suffering,” she adds taking a bite of the banana cake and wiggling her brows.

As she navigated her way home, Y/N sighs once again. Was it really that hard to forget Jaehyun? He didn’t even exist yet here she is feeling broken hearted as if she was cheated on once again by her ex boyfriend. Moving towards a crowd she felt people bump against her making her scrunch up her nose in irritation, “Damn, can’t people watch where they’re going?” She muttered under her breath as she made hurried strides towards her apartment.

Before she could take a turn, she felt a body bump against her as she fell on her butt looking up squinting. Pair of hands helped her stand up as she dusted herself, flustered that she caused a scene in public.

“Thank you,” she muttered quietly to the stranger who didn’t seem to budge as she tried to make her way.

“You should really watch where you’re going,” a deep voice said. Looking up, her jaw slacked. There he stood in front of her, with a light smile in his face his hair still swept back as he was dressed in a plain white tee with denim jeans and white sneakers. Jaehyun. If he looked ethereal in her dream, then she didn’t even know how to describe how he looked as he stood in front of her as she continued to stare at him in awe.

“I didn’t know you were this clumsy, I think you need to get used to me guiding you everywhere,” he added shaking his head as he took her hand in his as his smile radiated. He chuckled at her noticing her lack of response. He placed a small kiss on her forehead as his arm wrapped around her shoulder as he pulled her towards the direction of her apartment.

“How did you find me? How are you here? Are you real?” Y/N asked hurriedly as she stared at him in shock. Everyone was looking at Jaehyun, who wouldn’t really? The girls around continued to stare at him with heart eyes but they didn’t matter to him as his arm tightly wrapped around your shoulder. They didn’t matter cause they weren’t you. Y/N was too bewildered to even glare at those girls as her mind started thinking of all the possibilities on how he appeared.

“My wish came true,” Jaehyun stated as he faced her grinning at her amazed state. “What did you wish for?” Y/N asked curiously as she looked at Jaehyun who was still smiling at her softly.

“I wished I could spend the rest of my life loving you,”

Y/N stopped walking as Jaehyun grabbed her shoulders and faced her towards him. “Why did you say that? Now it won’t come true,” she scolded him as she pouted. Jaehyun laughed at her response. “I’m not going anywhere though, you got me, you got me good,” he winked making her blush just like in her dream.

“Oh and Y/N,” he added as he bent down meeting her eyes as she looked at him with flushed cheeks and bright eyes.

“I love you too,”  

[hyuckles-chuckles]

hiding in a tree — j. jaehyun

the most handsome guy on campus asks you out on a date, despite ending up in a tree you aren’t necessarily k-i-s-s-i-n-g him.

pairing ; son of aphrodite!jung jaehyun x fem!reader

other character(s) ; son of hephaestus!johnny seo

genre ; fluff, angst, demigod!au, college!au · word count ; 2.4k · rating ; 15 · warning(s) ; usage of weaponry, demigod swearing, mentions of killing evil monsters

request ; “jaehyun + 1 : ‘what did you think was going to happen?’ + m : demigod!au” by @ahgase55g7​ !

masterlist ; adobe’s 1500 follower celebration

a/n ; i truly truly truly love writing demigod/pjo fics, thanks for the request love! i hope y’all enjoy this greek mythology mess + fyi this took me a day to write when it took me a whole year to get tddd out so maybe this is improvement idk you tell me please tell me i love hearing feedback from y’all

hiding in a tree is copyright 2020 hyuckles-chuckles, all rights reserved.

If you knew that going on a date with Jaehyun would end up with you stuck in a tree with an enraged boar at the bottom of it as he and his friend tried to kill it, you wouldn’t have accepted. Who were you kidding? He could’ve taken you to the Underworld and you still would’ve enjoyed yourself.

Maybe on your next date you could go to the Underworld since that suddenly existed now.

Jaehyun was probably the most beautiful person you had ever seen. And every single person on your campus would agree with you. You didn’t even think that he knew you existed considering you only shared your Creative Writing class with him since he majored in Visual Art and you majored in Literature. You didn’t even see him at any parties since you started tertiary schooling.

But from those few moments in your only class together, he spotted you from the class, his first words to you being ‘This could be weird since we’ve never spoken before, but I think you’re so beautiful. Would you like to go on a date with me?’ You stood with your mouth agape, only responding with a rather loud ‘yes’ when he started to chuckle at your expression. You were already getting your phone out to get his number, but he said he didn’t have a phone. You were surprised but laughed it off as you jotted the details of the date into your notes app.

Nothing could get rid of the smile on your face that day.

You anticipated your date for a few days, agreeing to have a picnic in the park on the weekend (which you found odd considering your first dates were mainly always at a café — this seemed a lot more romantic in your opinion). While you waited for the weekend, every time you had class together you would sit together and get to know each other better before your date.

You even sneaked some selfies with him while he was paying attention to your lecturer. No matter the angle — flattering or unflattering — he managed to look good in every single one. You were extremely jealous. You even teased him at how unfair it was for him to look so good, causing a blush to form on his dimpled cheeks as he walked you to your apartment.

“Uh, so I’ll see you here tomorrow then,” Jaehyun said at the bottom of your staircase as you unlocked the door to go inside of your apartment building.

“Twelve o’clock sharp. You don’t have a phone so I can’t call you if you’re late.”

“If I’m late, I’ll just call you from a payphone — you gave me your number for a reason,” he chuckled as you stood in your doorway. “Bye, beautiful.”

“Bye,” you greeted him with a wave, closing the door before he could see the smile that spread across your face. You could say you were a little excited for your date with Jaehyun.

You sat at the top of the steps as you waited for Jaehyun. You didn’t realise you had been ready far too early for the date when he was actually supposed to pick you up. But who could blame you when that beautiful boy was supposed to take you on a date? Literally no one could — they would be doing exactly what you are doing.

You looked to your watch, smiling as you only had a minute left until Jaehyun came to pick you up and walk you to the park. You smiled even more brightly when you caught sight of him. Other times you had seen him, he was always calm and collected, a natural smile gracing his features. This time he seemed kind of…stressed. Maybe he was nervous because of your date, but he didn’t seem like himself.

“Hey!” you greet him, walking down the steps, stopping at the very last one. Despite your added height, he was still slightly taller than you.

“Hey, beautiful,” he exhaled, hugging you and bringing you down to the ground. “You ready to go?” he asked, already taking your hand and walking towards the park.

“Jae, wait,” you giggle, pulling on his arm for him to stop. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he stutters. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well,” you muse as you take in his appearance. His hair is dishevelled as if he ran to your apartment. Between the handles of the basket he held was a baseball bat which you weren’t expecting. And when you looked to his half tucked in shirt, you noticed a quite large mirror hanging from his belt. “You seem…off.”

“Trust me, I’m not,” he gives you a reassuring smile. “Let’s just get to the park — and get there fast.”

Jaehyun walks fast in front of you, you jogging to keep up with his pace. When he finally stops you catch your breath and hold your chest. He notices and gets you a bottle of water from the basket.

“Thank you,” you laugh, trying to hide your embarrassment.

“I’m sorry,” he chuckled, running a hand through his hair, making it look even messier than before. “Sometimes I forget people aren’t like me.”

“And what makes you different?” you ask. He suddenly tenses, so you relieve his tension with a joke. “Because you’re prettier than people?”

You see his shoulders relax, which causes you to worry. You got to know him this past week and right now he didn’t seem like himself. “Jaehyun, are you sure you’re okay? We can reschedule the date if you’re not feeling well.”

“No, I’m fine, being at the park is actually keeping me calm,” he reassured you, and even though you knew deep down he wasn’t fine, you had the need to believe so you did.

“So, are you planning on having us play baseball?” you ask as you look down at him preparing the blanket and goods.

“Baseball?” he questions, looking up at you quizzically.

“Well, you have a baseball bat next to the basket,” you remind him of his belongings. “But just so you know, I’ve done all my running for the week.”

“Oh, okay,” he says as he glances at the bat, turning to look up at you from where he sat. “Care to join me?” he asked with a raised hand and a dashing smile.

“Of course I will—”

“Jaehyun! What are you doing here?!”

You both look up at the person who called for Jaehyun. You recognise it as Jaehyun’s friend Johnny. He seems to be in a similar state as your date only much, much worse.

“What the Hades are you doing here?!” Jaehyun exclaims, getting up in an instant, grabbing his baseball bat and looking around the park.

“Hades?” you mumble to yourself, curious as to why he would say the Greek God of the Underworld’s name.

“You told me to lure it to the park!”

“No, I said away from the park!” Jaehyun groans. He seems to have forgotten you’re right behind him, but you know he’s just preoccupied with Johnny at the moment.

“Well, it’s on its way here, you should make sure (Y/N) is protected.”

“(Y/N)? (Y/N)!” he groans, turning around abruptly and placing his hands on your forearms — you would’ve laughed if he didn’t look so scared. “You have to get in the tree.”

“What?” you say as you look at the tall tree. “We’re not tall enough to get me in the tree and also I don’t want to. What’s happening, Jae? I don’t understand what’s happening.”

Jaehyun scrunches his face in frustration, turning around to point his bat to his friend. “Why can’t you listen to me?”

“Because I’m too busy admiring your beauty,” he sneers.

As they argue, you start to feel a rumble at the bottom of your feet and they feel it too. “Okay, (Y/N)!” Jaehyun turns to face you. “I’m going to help you up the tree.”

“Jaehyun, that’s impossible — ah!” You’re surprised at his strength. He holds you by your calves, balancing you so you can grab the branch with ease. “How am I supposed to get down?!”

“I’ll catch you!” Jaehyun smiles up at you, but it fades as you glare at him. “Just get high up, okay beautiful.” You don’t answer him, but you do as he says.

“I can’t believe you brought the Calydonian Boar here on my date,” you hear Jaehyun scold at Johnny from the ground.

You don’t listen to the rest of their argument; your interest is only searching what boar they were talking about and why it was bad to bring to the park. Your eyes widen as you see what Google gives you. There’s no way that they’re talking about the boar that was killed by a king’s son in Greek mythology. There has to be some other boar named after this Greek monster, but you don’t find anything.

You look down to the ground and you see Jaehyun holds his bat and large mirror, Johnny hold a wrench as you see a basic boar run up to them. But as if suddenly a mist was lifted, you see different things. Instead of a bat and wrench, they hold swords — Jaehyun’s a muted red with a reflective blade and Johnny’s a golden colour with ridges in the blade, it seemed seemed to fit their personalities well. And instead of the mirror Jaehyun held, a reflective shield took its place. You crane your neck to the boar and suddenly it’s also changed into the Calydonian Boar and…no way. It had lightning coming out of its mouth!

You refuse to look down, leaning your head against the tree, looking up into the sky as you try to ignore the sounds from the base of the tree. You don’t understand what’s going on or how it’s happening, but you hope that your date and his friend are okay. From your brief reading on the boar, you know it was hard to kill and that it actually killed some of the hunters when it was hunted the first time.

All of a sudden there’s a cheer from the boys, but you still don’t take your chance at looking down. You don’t know what else this boar could do — it might as well take the appearance of those its just killed and is looking for a new being in yourself.

“Beautiful, it’s okay! You can come down now!”

“I’m fine up here!”

You hear nothing for a while until you feel a hand on your calf. You scream at the touch but quickly stop when you see that it’s Jaehyun. You calm yourself with deep breaths, as Jaehyun sits on your branch. You see that Jaehyun has a bruise on his cheek, a rip in his shirt and pants that appear to be smoking and a burn on his knuckles.

You couldn’t believe that he’s actually messier than before your date.

“You okay?” he asks you, a soft smile on his lips.

“Am I okay? Are you okay?” you ask as you take in his appearance once more. You’re pretty sure his shoes were white before and not black.

“Yeah, I guess I have some explaining to do,” he nervously chuckles before taking a deep breath himself.

“I’m a demigod, which means I’m half human and half God — specifically Aphrodite, she’s my mom. Johnny’s also one, we met at this camp for demigods, and he needed help getting rid of this Calydonian Boar which is—”

“I know what it is,” you interrupted, showing him your most recent search. “Continue about your whole demigod thing.”

“You’re taking this awfully well — better than my actual dad.”

“Well, I just experienced it, there’s no reason for me not to believe you,” you chuckled, finally leaning forward and placing your hand on his bare arm that showed through the hole. “Just continue, I’m curious now.”

“Well, that’s the thing,” he grimaced. “I wasn’t actually planning on telling you that today. That would be considered a sixth date kind of confession. I obviously didn’t mean for this to happen, and I understand if you don’t want to continue dating—”

You interrupt him once more by leaning forward and kissing him sweetly, your cheeks heating up as you hear Johnny cheer for you from the ground.

“Woah,” he sighs, as he slowly opens his eyes to look into yours. “I wasn’t expecting that to happen.”

“What did you think was going to happen? I was going to stop dating you just because you’re a freaking son of Aphrodite?”

“It’s a lot more than just me being her son,” he states seriously. “Did you see how I killed that boar?”

“I didn’t want to,” you admit, your face scrunching in disgust as you remember peering down for those few seconds.

“I get that,” he says with a shrug of his shoulders as he gracefully jumps off of the branch onto the one just below your one. “You need help?” he asks with a raise of his hand.

“Uh, definitely,” you say as you take his hand to help lead you down the tree. You yelp when he just jumps from the last branch, rolling onto his back like a gymnast and landing elegantly on his feet.

“Okay, beautiful, jump.”

“Can we just get a ladder?” you nervously ask.

“Holy Hera, I actually have a ladder at camp that’s taller than this tree,” Johnny remembers, frowning when he realises that no one is listening to him.

“I can catch you — just jump!” You know that you don’t want to jump, but you do anyway, screaming as you fall into Jaehyun’s arms. “Told you,” he smirks as he brings you down to the ground.

“Okay, well, I’m going to leave you two — I’ll see you around campus!” Johnny says as he leaves you and Jaehyun alone in the park. “And don’t use your charmspeak on poor (Y/N)!”

“Charmspeak?” you repeat, confused at what Johnny meant by that.

“Uh, I’ll tell you some other time,” Jaehyun mumbles.

“So, that was some fight,” you bring up, looking at the destruction of the picnic that the boar caused.

“Do you want to reschedule this date?” he asked you, moving his hands up and down your forearm.

“How about we order take-out and watch Hercules?” you joke as he walks to your apartment with his arm around your shoulder.“It’s actually pronounced Heracles, but I blame that on Disney.”

to celebrate getting 1500 followers on here, i opened up my requests! be prepared for more requested works from me!

© hyuckles-chuckles, 2020. please don’t copy or repost without permission.

[punchdrunkdoc]

Updated K-drama list (4)

This list is getting looooong,  because I’m well and truly addicted to these shows and can’t stop watching them. 

I think its because each show is so self-contained - one series, 16-20 episodes and its done. A clear beginning, middle and a satisfying end. That, together with all the tropes in play (SO MANY TROPES!!) makes each show feel like a novel come to life. And when I start a good novel, I have to finish it in one go. This usually results in me staying up till 2am because I NEED TO KNOW HOW IT ENDS. And it’s the same with these shows. I’m getting very little sleep, but I’m having a hell of a good time!

FAVOURITES

1. Crash Landing on You

He’s from North Korea. She’s from South Korea. They never should have met, but they’ll change each other’s lives.

This was my first K-drama, and its still my favourite. The full cast of characters is great, the lead romance is ANGSTALICIOUS and its genuinely, laugh out loud funny (when its not making you cry or swoon).

Male lead: Officially the best boyfriend ever. With added dimples.

Tear-jerk factor: 4/5

2. Healer

The lives, and pasts, of a hot shot reporter, a spunky young tabloid journalist and a mysterious thief-for-hire intersect.

This was so addictive - the plot was tight and engaging, and this is one of the few shows I’ve watched where there didn’t seem to be a lot of filler. I loved the central 3 characters, and the romance was amazing. I especially loved that the male lead started off such a brooding loner, but he became super-affectionate as soon as he admitted his feelings. So many good hugs and lots of face-cradling in this one.

Male lead: Effortlessly beats up 2 henchmen while comforting his girl over the phone. What more do you need?

Tear-jerk factor: 1/5

3. Itaewon Class

A young man’s life is forever altered when he runs afoul of a powerful family.

This felt like a big step up in quality from everything else in this list, in terms of the production, soundtrack (which was brilliant), the lack of annoying sound effects, and just the overall ‘real world’ feel of the show. All of the characters were fleshed out and 3-dimensional, and they all had their ‘moment’ to shine. The story itself was gripping and so well done - some of the twists and reveals had me gasping! And what can I say about the 2 leads? I love them, both separately, and together. He is so wise beyond his years, and his journey will break your heart and inspire you. She is borderline sociopathic, but I adore her.

Male lead: Tenacious, principled, kind, innocent, caring, driven, loyal…and he can cook!

Tear-jerk factor: 2/5

4. Descendants of the Sun

A special forces Captain meets a capable and beautiful trauma surgeon. They feel an instant bond, but their jobs and philosophy on life get in the way, threatening to tear them apart.

Halfway through this show, I seriously thought this might overtake CLOY as my No. 1 fav. I absolutely LOVE the male lead character, and the romance was beautiful…but it didn’t quite nail the angst and the last minute was a bit twee which dropped it down the rankings a bit.

Male lead: A cocky, charming, absolute BADASS with the most adorable, cheeky smile.

Tear-jerk factor: 2/5

5. Love in the Moonlight / Moonlight Drawn by Clouds

A young woman poses as a eunuch in the Royal Palace and falls in love with the Crown Prince

I wanted to try something different so I opted for this period piece and OH MY GOD am I glad I did. The start had a really light comedic tone (and a lot of modern anachronisms - high fives everywhere!) and I loved all the identity-concealing hi-jinks. But then the romance kicked into gear and the DELICIOUS angst started flowing, and I became obsessed with it. It's like loads of bits of my favourite regency historical romances were mashed up and transported to the Joseon Dynasty. I loved it so much!

Male lead: Manages to look amazingly handsome despite all the period headgear, kicks ass with a sword, and doesn't allow himself to be manipulated by the corrupt officials surrounding him, which was refreshing. Also acts like an adorable goofball when he's in love.

Tear-jerk factor: 2/5

6. My Holo Love

A lonely woman falls for a holographic AI and then meets his creator...

I love the concept of this show (I’m a big sci-fi nerd), and it was beautifully shot. The lead relationship is well developed and it doesnt fall into a typical love triangle. I’ve come to realise it utilises a lot of K-drama tropes (face-blindness! shared childhood trauma!), but it does it really well, imho.

Male lead: Tortured loner genius. My catnip.

Tear-jerk factor: 2/5

7. Goblin

A 900yr old immortal guardian finally meets the ‘bride’ who will end his existence

Once I got over the slight ick-factor of the age difference between the two characters at the beginning, I really fell for this show and it’s world. It had me in tears. And I especially loved the secondary character of the Grim Reaper.

Male lead: Surprising innocent and funny for a 900 year old

Tear-Jerk factor: 5/5

8. What’s Wrong with Secretary Kim

An personal assistant decides to quits her job in order to get a life. Her boss has other ideas.

I loved the female lead in this - I’m a sucker for uber-competent people, and the actress is STUNNING. Her boss is self-centred, entitled and vain...but over time, somehow that just becomes endearing! Possibly because he’s played by Park Seo Joon, who can do no wrong in my book! The central romance is super cute - I can rewatch their scenes again and again. 

Male lead: Like I said, somehow makes vanity and narcissism endearing. Also not afraid to get his shirt off and flash his 6-pack. Bonus.

Tear-Jerk factor: 0/5

9. Legend of the Blue Sea

A mermaid comes onto land to find the man she loves

The (literal) fish-out-of-water scenes in the first half of this show were hilarious - the actress is a comic genius! The romance was nicely done, and there wasn’t a lot of extraneous plot or too many characters. I couldn’t stop watching this one!

Male lead: Cocky, arrogant conman with a soft mushy centre

Tear-Jerk factor: 1/5

10. Fight for my Way

Two life-long friends decide to go after their dreams

I fast-forwarded large chunks of this (I wasn’t interested in the secondary couple at all), but it still made my favourite list because I love the leads - both as separate characters and as a couple. This is one of the best friends-to-lovers stories I’ve seen, mainly because you truly buy that these 2 have known each other their entire lives (their  bickering and teasing feels so natural). And then when they take the next step, they’re so affectionate and refreshingly open with their feelings.

Male lead: The third Park Seo Joon character on this list! I love his contradictions. He’s goofy and childish…but can really turn on the sexy charm; he’s a badass MMA fighter…who loves when his girlfriend sticks up for him and protects him.

Tear-jerk factor: 0.5/5

11. Suspicious Partner

A young, hardworking lawyer has her life turned upside down when she is put on trial for murder.

This has been officially bumped up to my favourites list - partly because I’m now a massive Ji Chang Wook fan, and partly because I’ve rewatched scenes with better subtitles and its made it 10x better. Its still overly long, but the serial killer plot had some nice twists and it was central to the story, so it didn’t feel extraneous like some of these types of plots do. I really enjoyed the central romance - the 2 characters sparked off each other well and I loved their evolution from sort-of enemies to lovers. This is another show where I can endlessly rewatch their scenes together.

Male lead: Its Ji Chang Wook! He’s so good at playing serious guys who are secretly big dorks.

Tear Jerk factor: 0.5/5

NOTABLE MENTIONS

These are shows which I completed and really enjoyed but they had flaws which kept them out of the favourites list.

1. The K2

An ex-mercenary takes a job as a bodyguard protecting the illegitimate daughter of a politician. A sort-of Snow White retelling.

This started off really well, with some amazing fight sequences (hello, shower room scene!). However, the back half became too bogged down in double crosses and manipulations, and it focussed too much on the politicians. The writers did well to give these characters some layers, but they were all essentially doing bad things for the wrong reasons, and I just didn’t care about them. The show was much better when it was following K2’s journey. The romance also started off well, but was a bit underdeveloped (mainly because they barely interacted).

2. I Am Not a Robot

A man who is allergic to human contact finds companionship with a robot…or does he?

I honestly thought I wouldn’t make it passed a couple of episodes of this - the concept was just too ridiculous. But I’m glad I persevered, because it developed some real depth and some proper good angst towards the end and I LOVED the central relationship.

3. Extraordinary You

A high school student discovers she's a supporting character in a comic book

The plot of this was so unique, and the way the comic story played out interspersed with the characters 'real lives' was really well done. Plus the central couple were so adorable. It dragged in the middle section (several versions of the same conversations were had, and the same exposition was spelled out multiple ways for no apparent reason) which kept it out of my favourite list, but it redeemed itself with some good angst at the end, and it had a really lovely ‘epilogue'.

4. My Love from the Star

Alien stranded on earth meets an actress soon before he’s due to be rescued.

I finally gave this another chance, and I’m glad I did. The female lead got a LOT less irritating, and I enjoyed the present-day romance and all the flashes back to the past. However, the ending was really abrupt and disappointing (which kept it out of my favourite list). There should have been 1 less filler episode in the middle, and a decent, fleshed out finale instead.

5. Weightlifting Fairy Kim Bok-Joo

A young talented weightlifter experiences first love

Honestly, I wasn’t sold on this at first; the female lead was a bit much (lot of gurning and over-acting) and there was a weird disconnect between how she was described (big, overweight, manly, unfeminine) and how she actually looked (thin and beautiful!). But the back half of this show saved it; her relationship with Joon-Hyung was sooooo cute. He is adorable, and they were both so supportive of each other’s dreams. I finished this with a big smile on my face.

6. Because this is my First Life

A rational-to-a-fault software designer and an aspiring screenwriter come up with an unconventional way to solve their housing problem

When I started this, I thought it was going to be all light and fluffy (the main character's job in the beginning was to insert the product placement in Korean dramas - hello, Red Ginseng! - which I found hilarious and meta) but it had a surprisingly melancholic tone throughout and touched on issues of workplace harassment and gender roles. I didn't warm to the male lead until right at the end (which was probably partly intentional - he's very remote and closed off) but overall I found the story quite lovely. Plus it had a really great central female friendship and their conversations actually passed the Bechdel test!

7. Strong Girl Bong-Soon

A woman with inherited super-strength gets a job as a bodyguard for an eccentric young CEO

The lead couple in this are AD-OR-ABLE and I loved their relationship. But there was a weird tone issue in this show. The romance is super cute...but there’s a whole dark sub plot involving multiple women being held captive by a psychopath. I ended up fast forwarding most of that, and just concentrated on the romance.

THE OTHERS...

I finished these shows and liked parts of them, but they ultimately didn’t set my world on fire.

1. Her Private Life

A talented art curator tries to keep her professional persona separate from her fangirl obsession with a pop idol.

This was cute and I loved the central relationship - he was so supportive of her, and their interactions were refreshingly mature and their banter felt really natural. Ultimately, it was a bit forgettable (I’m not dying to rewatch any of it), and the last minute tacked-on childhood trauma subplot was really unnecessary.

2. Touch Your Heart

Star actress rocked by scandal works at a law firm to prepare for her comeback role

This starred the secondary couple from Goblin and I really like them, even though they are playing very different characters in this (more opposites attract, than doomed lovers). At first I found this too ‘cutesy’, but I’ve since realised the sound effects/graphics are a K-drama thing and not unique to this show, so I’m not as down on it as I was. I still had to fast forward a lot of the secondary romances which I wasn’t invested in.

3. Hyde, Jekyll and Me

A woman becomes involved in the lives of 2 men, who share one body

This stars Hyun Bin from CLOY and he is sooo watchable, especially as the slick-haired, glasses-wearing, uptight Seo-Jin. And the show started well...but quickly went off the rails into a convoluted, dragged-out revenge plot.

4. Melting Me Softly

Two people are accidentally cryogenically frozen for 20 years. They have to navigate the modern world and their new lives together.

Another good concept, but it ultimately descended into little more than a light work-place romance. Had a couple of good kissing scenes, but it was overall a bit forgettable.

And the DNF:

My Secret Romance

I started watching this because I was looking for something a little less PG - the characters have a one night stand in the first episode! But I couldn’t get passed the bad acting and cheap production.

Master’s Sun

I liked the premise but the 2 leads weren’t very attractive (at least in comparison to the insanely beautiful actors/actresses in the shows listed above). Call me superficial, but I couldn’t see myself spending 17 hours watching them and willing them to kiss.

[obeymeluv]

Cupid’s Bow - Asmodeus

This is what I needed the love songs for :) The song lyrics are in bold/italic. I used “Something So Beautiful” by Yongzoo, and it’s super cute. I think you should listen to it at least once!

Have a sappy, magical confession!

I hope you like it! It’s my first major Asmo piece :o 

RAD was in an absolute uproar. This week was a literal once-a-year event and Asmo wouldn’t miss out. He couldn’t! That would just be heartbreaking to the general public, honestly. The fifth-born was up almost inconceivably early—earlier than his routine usually demanded! It pained him to be anything less than perfect but he could forgive himself this once (his skin was to die for on any day, makeup or not).

Rumor had it that Diavolo bought enough Cupid’s Bow for the entire academy but Asmodeus wouldn’t leave it to chance. These blossoms were one of the most finicky breeds in all of the Devildom, sought out for their magical properties and uncanny ability to detect soulmates. They were nurtured meticulously, religiously bred, and highly regarded for the enchanting aroma they emitted when they bloomed.

If they bloomed.

Though rare, some poor souls never got theirs to open and had to wait another year. That’s why Asmo never purchased one in his hundreds of years alive. Some small part of him, the part that worried he’d never find true love due to the burden and weakness of being the Avatar of Lust, was always afraid he’d end up with a lump of heart-shaped petals. He’d rather have fun in the moment, fill the desirous ache with teeth and tongues and Demonus.

Despite the ungodly hour and the fact that he flew over, there were easily forty people between him and the stacks of flowers. He couldn’t bring himself to admire the flowered vines crawling up the stand and supporting the sign, or how RAD seemed to be a bit greener as if to set the mood. Asmodeus’ lips twisted up in a grateful smile as he thanked whatever luck existed in the Devildom that no one felt like talking. Sure, there were murmurs of ‘perfect spots’ and who so-and-so planned to give the flower to, but he refused to hear any of it right now.

He couldn’t, really. His heart was in a giddy flutter, bouncing against his ribs and stirring up the warmth that made standing in the early morning chill of the Devildom more bearable.

The rose hit his hand and Asmo gripped it like his life depended on it. His first instinct was to jet back to the house but the sheer delicacy of the bud was enough to stop him in his tracks. The realization of its frailness, the fact that he’d only get one, lanced across him like a celestial blade.

It made him flinch, and he was surprised to feel it. His hand shook around the thorn-studded stem. Asmodeus calmed his wildly beating heart with a single breath, charming his way out of the line. His red-yellow eyes could just make out the House of Lamentation in the distance.

Now, how to offer it to you?

Human world soil had long since lost the ability to grow Cupid’s Bow. He wasn’t sure if it was a lack of magical caretakers, the inability to enchant the soil, or the fact that the human world no longer supported magic. No one on earth seemed to know what the Cupid’s Bow was anymore. The idea of presenting flowers to loved ones—and the fact that flowers had meanings—was all that remained of the tradition (centuries of bad translations, destroyed books, and eroded pictograms didn’t help anything.)

This was something you’d see once in your life (unless the exchange program was renewed and you came back next year!) It had to be special. As the Avatar of Lust and leading expert on anything relationship related, Asmodeus would be doing you a disservice if he didn’t plan the perfect reveal!

But what if it didn’t open when he handed it to you? He couldn’t bear the thought! Asmodeus had been in absolute agony—nearly sick—about how to confess to you. Had been for a while. Part of him was worried he was reading into things, seeing what he wanted to see, but another part of him knew that you felt the same way.

He could prove it with a pact but didn’t want to cheat like that. Pacts allowed the bonded pair to share emotions; if he stayed on the bond plane long enough your emotions would become his own. Asmodeus would get an idea of your innermost feelings. As tempting as the idea was, he didn’t want to risk the gaping, cold nothingness he’d surely feel if you considered him anything but someone you loved romantically. Several of his brothers were surprised to hear he hadn’t made a pact with you yet, but he always gave the same excuse of Solomon being demanding.

Asmodeus had been alive for a long time, and his list of lovers was even longer. Being the Avatar of Lust meant he spent a fair time courting and every date he’d been on was unique. He’d never repeated a date (not every detail, at least). This would be no exception. He slipped into the House of Lamentation, Cupid’s Bow held out at arm’s length so it would be the first thing to enter the protections.

That wouldn’t protect it from one of his brothers but it was away from the outside and that’s what mattered. Silverware tinkled in the distance, Beelzebub and Lucifer setting the table for breakfast. Should he hand it to you at breakfast, when everyone was present and make them absolutely sick with jealousy?

Very, very tempting! Then he could brag about it to the school! Maybe even get picked up by Majolish! After all, it would be crazy rare to have one of the two exchange students as his fated betrothed. To know would set him free and give him bliss he hadn’t experienced since his first feeding as the Avatar of Lust, but was it really good enough?

Couples shared their Cupid’s Bow stories for centuries, passing it down like a family heirloom. An impatient breakfast proposal seemed very lackluster, given his reputation. He’d been torturing himself for months, what was one more day? Asmodeus hadn’t even realized he’d started up the stairs towards your room until Lucifer squeezed gently on his wrist, stopping him in his tracks.

“You’re bleeding,” the eldest frowned. Something was clearly amiss if perfect Asmodeus was letting himself bleed. The prick of pain turned into a burrowing sting as he looked at the thorn embedded in his palm. Drops of blood ran along the lines of his soft hand and down his wrist. Lucifer didn’t have to ask what was wrong, the flower was enough of an answer. He was fairly certain it was the first time Asmodeus had bought one to give out but he dared not say it.

Lucifer could already see the ideas spinning in Asmodeus’ eyes. His little brother’s eyes grew pinker, an enchanting, luminous pink that was love itself. Their eyes tended to lose the gradient when swept up in the emotion of their sin. When it came to you, love and lust were the same for Asmodeus. The charm literally hummed in Asmodeus’ veins; Lucifer could feel it pulsing in his wrist.

It was a persistent, almost anxious feeling. One begging him to bound up the stairs and into your room. To throw himself at your feet or into your arms and all that you were. “Smaller ambitions are still noble,” Lucifer cautioned as he ran his thumb across the wound to lay a thin sheet of healing magic. Asmodeus could hardly remember when Lucifer last touched him without gloves, heart stuttering at the comforting but nervous squeeze.

Asmodeus was very much a ‘go big or go home’ type, and he knew Lucifer was afraid of him falling too far. They had fallen too far once, and it cost them dearly. Some of them had never really healed. He was afraid of that, himself.

The grand vision of you in a diaphanous dress of his own design, sitting pretty on a picnic blanket before a Devilgram-worthy spread of delicate treats as he presented the rose was dashed by cold dread. Suddenly the idea of waking you up from a dream wasn’t so bad. He wouldn’t be out a lot of money and he could wallow in shame from the comfort of his room if things went wrong.

It won’t go wrong, something soothed him. It swept throughout his body, a strangely familiar tide. Some omnipotent whisper…the remains of something he’d lost when he fell from the Celestial Realm. Emboldened, Asmodeus swept up the stairs and knocked on your door.

He felt like he was floating. Maybe he was just light-headed from holding his breath? Asmodeus heard your sleepy invitation, opening the door to see you twisted in the sheets and struggling to sit up. His heart broke free of the stranglehold, bumping up to his tongue and shaking the knot loose. Asmodeus poured his heart out.

A genuine, soft ramble. An honest soliloquy. It was like the first record of love itself, something that would leave Helen of Troy, Guinevere, and Cleopatra wanting. The sheer joy of your undivided attention almost caused him to bite his tongue. Somehow, he persisted. “People think that I cannot love, being the Avatar of Lust, and I spent centuries believing them. Living up to the expectation of flings and everything lust means…it wasn’t until I met you that I knew I was capable of love. Real love.”

You were so red you thought you’d pass out. Asmo gave you a dazzling smile and you were surprised to see he had dimples. “As a token of this love, I ask that you take this flower. It is a flower borne from the seeds of fate itself.” Asmodeus held the rose out to you, turning it slightly so you’d grab a thorn-free piece.

He didn’t know if he wanted to explode or puke.

All he really wanted was for you to grab the damn flower (and see it open).

“What is it?” your nail scraped the stem. You hesitated, not knowing if you could trust it. Was it really just a flower? Would it bite you? Asmodeus wanted to whine, to shove it into your hand. It wouldn’t react if you didn’t grab it for real!

At some point he’d dropped to one knee. Was it to stop the shaking or even out the height difference? “Cupid’s Bow,” Asmodeus fluffed his bangs and brushed them to the side, “Fate’s Flower. This flower blooms once a year, lasts for a week, and only opens when given to you by your soulmate.”

Could he love you so deeply? Flowers say a lot, but to think one like this existed!

“Take it,” he insisted with twinkling eyes, almost begging. “Take it and see that I love you.”

You grabbed the flower, fingers bumping and brushing Asmodeus’. His lips skated across your knuckle. A gasp escaped you as the flower unfurled into several rows of dainty, heart-shaped petals. The flower opened into a gradient of blood red, vibrant orange, and delicate peach. Asmodeus squealed with delight, scooping you up in a whirl of limbs and love.

He pressed you close, cradled your adoringly.

A warbling growl-screech followed. You could feel the sound bouncing in his chest but couldn’t quite hear it. It was something only a demon’s tongue could make, a sound meant for non-humans.

“Red for love and beauty,” Asmo’s kisses were hungry and sloppy. Your brain was so numbed by the onslaught you could barely hear him; you tasted the smile on his lips and it made your heart sing. “Orange for desire and fascination, because you are unlike any other my lips have touched.” your back hit the bed; Asmo knocked a shuddering breath out of you as he pressed kisses to your throat. “And peach for appreciation. Sealing the deal, if you will…” he said the last part with a purr.

Your body throbbed, the wash of euphoria dimming to an expectant pulse when he took his lips away. His tail flicked behind him excitedly, horns casting shadows on your face as the tips glowed a pinkish-red. He laced your fingers together, the flower trapped between them.

Darling, come on over and take my hand. I will show you that I'm you're man. Is that okay?

Never-ending, I'm extending both of my arms and my heart belongs to you

What a sight, what a view when I'm looking at you! Like I'm seeing the sky for the very first time, and I want you to know that I've never seen something so beautiful!

“Is that…music?”

“Cupid’s Bows are supposed to make for the perfect moment!” Asmo winked at you, his free hand slipping under your back to hold you close. “This is the song of your soul…the song that represents what you feel for your partner. The fragrance is something unique to each person, a smell that makes them happy. Some historians think it’s the original love chemical!” he gushed.

“That’s highly debated, of course.” Asmodeus looked over his shoulder to see Satan and the others standing in the doorway. Right…he used the ‘announcement’ noise. He hadn’t meant for them to crash this moment, he was just so excited when the flower opened that it slipped out!

Asmo rolled over in a slow, fluid motion and sat up with a smug smile. “The human is mine!” he cheered, absolutely glowing as you showed them the open flower. It was met with various reactions and he ate that up, too.

Lucifer smirked, fixing his cuff and glove with an interested look. “Lord Diavolo will enjoy this news, I’m sure.”

“A merger is a merger, however it happens. I doubt he intended to bond the realms this way.” Satan rubbed his chin.

“A merger? What are you—”

“Those flowers are like the Devildom version of a wedding ring. An eternal promise.” Satan explained. “It’s hard to find people who don’t get married after a Cupid’s Bow opens for them.”

“Married?!”

“Married!” Asmo breathed dreamily, taking a photo he would cherish for the rest of his life. The flower would wilt and turn black in a week but he would remember it forever. He shooed everyone out to help you get ready for school, holding your hands in his when all was said and done. Asmo gazed upon you reverently, kissing your forehead. “I love you always.”