Min Yoongi In THAT THAT By PSY Ft. SUGA

♡Dating with txt♡

TXT X Reader

⚠️ Warnings: Swearing, slight mention of blood, do not read if you have emetophobia, mentions of laser tag guns, mentions of the ER and hospitals, everyone's kinda a crackhead in this one, overall extreme fluff. ⚠️

♡ Soobin ♡

You had decided that your first date with Soobin should be in an aquarium setting, since blue was his favorite color and fish were your favorite animal. It would be cute to see him dress up and to watch the fish from all angles in a calm and serene way.

You had worn your favorite sweater and shirt which read "D.I.L.F 'Damn, I Love Fishing," which you thought was appropriate for the occasion.

"Hey (Y/N)!" Soobin said front where you were standing at the entrance holding a map in his hands, "They have a shark exhibit because of that new 'Killer Titanium War Sharks' movie!"

"Oh that's so cool! I hope we get to see some of them!"

Walking around the venue, you notice a couple fish that catch your eye, they're green with bright orange bellies and mean faces.

"Oooh Soobin! Soobin! These ones are so pretty!" You exclaim and Soobin's heart just melts because of how excited you got.

"(Y/N), those are piranhas. 🥹"

Soobin then grabs your hand and heads for the stingrays, which you would be able to pet according to the tour guide lady.

Anxiously waiting your turn, you finally step up to the open area and pet the stingray closest to you, while Soobin messes with a starfish on the opposite side. He looked so cute like that, his hair in his eyes and an adoring smile on his face. You were so entranced by his features that you weren't paying attention to the dangerous animal in the water and something very peculiar happened. You got stung.

You immediately felt a sharp jolt run through your entire body and noticed the welt on your wrist starting to form as the pain increased. You sent Soobin a look that told him everything and he was rushing to your side to see what had happened the moment a tear slipped down your cheek. "Ow." Was all you said before you blacked out in Soobin's arms.

"Hey, How are you feeling?" Soobin asked you from the chair on the right side of your bed. You had groggily opened up your eyes and noticed you were in a white room which was quite the contrast from the blue of the aquarium. You were still wearing your clothes from earlier, but now you had a cast as an added accessory.

"What happened?"

"You got stung by a stingray and instead of screaming like a normal person you just passed out instead." Soobin filled you in with a pained smile.

"I'm not a lil bitch. I wouldn't cry about it." You said, shrugging and turning on the ER TV. Soobin moved up on the bed with you and told you to scootch over so that he could snuggle you.

The rest of your date was spent in the hospital bed, but it was still fun nonetheless. And you got free snacks!

♡ Yeonjun ♡

He had absolutely no plan in mind when he had asked you out on a date; the only thing he knew was that he wanted to see you somewhere outside of the workplace so he could try and romance you like he wanted.

This boy had been head over heels for you for months. Slipping notes into your cubicle, talking to you from his desk on the other side, offering to carry your things, and holding the elevator door for you whenever he rode.

It was just another day when all of a sudden the cheesy love notes turned into an actual plan: "Pick you up later tonight?"

Which you had agreed to, of course.

This is how you found yourself waiting outside on the boardwalk, wondering what exactly your co-worker had in mind. You were wearing your favorite outfit and the new Versace perfume you had picked up earlier that week. You were worried that Yeonjun might've thought it was too casual until you saw him walking towards you.

You thought your eyes had deceived you into thinking the angel before you was Yeonjun. His hair was wind blown and messy but in the cute boyish way and his perfect lips were wearing a light gloss. His bright yellow button up had been opened revealing a Kate Bush t-shirt. His denim jeans and converse added to the comfortable yet outrageous gorgeousness of the man before you.

"Hey, you look nice." He said, and you felt your heart flutter in your chest. "Thanks, you too."

Walking further along the boardwalk, Yeonjun slips his left hand in yours and makes his way towards the carnival games. Noticing how your eyes glance over at a large puppy stuffed animal for a fraction of a second longer than the rest of them, he insists he plays the water gun game to win it for you.

Laughing along with him, you join a group of two other people as the operator readies your water guns. Winking at you, Yeonjun holds his gun with two hands and aims it at the target.

"Hey, did you see the massive churro that the guy behind us has?" You ask, grinning.

"What? Where?" Yeonjun swivels around in his seat just as the bells go off signaling the beginning of the game.

Maniacally laughing, you aim your gun at the target and watch as the water moves the bar up towards the top of the booth, meaning that you were winning. Yeonjun finally came to his senses and tried to beat you but to no avail. You had gotten the big prize: the giant puppy stuffed animal.

Handing it to your date, you give him a kiss on the cheek and say "better luck next time."

"You cheated!" He said, but smiled as he buried his face into the soft fur.

Needless to say, the rest of the night was spent on the ferris wheel in a heated makeout session while the puppy waited at the tables below.

♡ Beomgyu ♡

"This movie is supposedly so scary that the first people to watch it died after throwing up when the gore scenes came on!" You said excitedly as you held your boyfriend's hand leading him in the direction of the cinema. You had been talking about the new movie, "Killer Titanium War Sharks" for weeks in anticipation for it to finally hit the theaters. Your calendar in your shared apartment with Beomgyu held the official date in which you would be taking him to see it; something Beomgyu had been secretly hoping you would forget about. Truth be told: he had been terrified of it ever since he saw the trailer on YouTube.

"Wow.... Great....." He mumbled as you sat down in the velvet upholstered seats of the theater. The only reason he had agreed to come see it with you as a date was because you had agreed to purchase him the Sno-Caps chocolate bites and the pineapple gummi bears that he liked to combine into mini sandwiches.

You moved a strand of his long hair behind his ear and stared at him in the eyes. "Beomgyu," you started, making sure that you had his full attention, "If you get scared you had to suck it up and deal with it. No bathroom breaks. We're watching it all the way through." Gulping, he nods his head and trembles in his seat as you watch the beginning credits roll onto the screen.

"(Y/N)."

It had been a little ways past the middle of the movie and Beomgyu had his hand on yours, gripping it as though it would fall off. He had been eating a crap ton of gummi bears and Sno-Caps and for a moment you thought he was going to offer you one. In a way, he did.

"What's up?" You ask.

"I don't feel so good-"

Barfing all over you, Beomgyu manages not to get any on himself as he watches the sugary sweets end up on your favorite cardigan. When he was done, he delicately patted his lips and smiled anxiously as he watched you take in what just happened.

Instead of yelling at him like he had thought, you laughed. "Beomgyu, that's so gross!" You said in between hearty chuckles. Laughing along with you, you both leave the theater hand in hand, not finishing the movie you had been so excited about.

"I'm sorry I made it so that we couldn't finish the movie." Your boyfriend said with genuine concern.

"Are you kidding?! That was 100 times better than any ending I could've gotten from "Killer Titanium War Sharks!"

♡ Taehyun ♡

You had first noticed him in the library, drinking a splendid Arabic blend of coffee with Kafka open in his lap, twiddling with his hoodie strings with a contemplative stare. You were sure that cupid had struck you with his arrow just then; he looked up at you from what he was reading upon hearing your entrance with the bell atop the book shoppe door.

This had been a habit of his, to show up at the same shoppe as you so that he could see what it was you were reading that week. Today, you had another Junji Ito manga stashed away in your arms and an excited smile on your face. He didn't understand what was happening until you had made your way to his usual spot.

"H-h-hello." He said, trying not to sound awkward but failing tremendously.

"Hey," you said, moving to sit down next to him, "I see you here often?"

It was an observation you made yet you still phrased it as a question, unsure if you were bothering the beautiful boy in front of you. To your surprise, he seemed ecstatic.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" He asked very chipper.

"I was just wondering....would you maybe.....it's totally okay if you don't want to....go out for coffee sometime?" You squinted your eyes in a slight grimace at how awkward your questions sounded and to make matters worse, you threw up finger guns.

Taehyun practically giggled and moved a chair closer to his so that you had the opportunity to sit down and talk to him. "Why, I would love that." He said, or at least he thought so. It came out more like "y-y-yes please yeah that sounds wonderful."

You inch closer to his spot and look at his book title. "Metamorphosis? Nice." You throw up another finger gun and you wanted to dissolve into the linoleum tiles right then and there.

"And I see you're reading my favorite Ito! No Longer Human!" He smiles and sends you the same hand gesture back.

Eventually, you guys pack up your things and head to the nearest coffee place in town: "The Mind Grind." This was where Taehyun had gotten his coffee earlier

He orders a vanilla latte and you order a black iced coffee with two espresso shots. Needless to say, he looked at you as though you were crazy but was most definitely intrigued by your order.

After a long conversation about reading material, you hand him your number scribbled on a napkin and offer the idea of "we should do this again sometime."

Taehyun thought about you the entire time he drove home.

♡ Hueningkai ♡

If this boy agreed to go on a date with you, you knew you had to make it an activity of sorts so that he wouldn't fall asleep or complain about the boringness of art museums or how lame the documentary you went to see was.

Your last date being roller skating, you knew that you were never going to put Kai in skates again as he had run into the wall numerous times and had fallen on top of you when leaning for support. You both ended up in so many unwanted bruises and cuts that you spent the entire next day in bed; an ice pack on Kai's neck and one on your knee.

This time you figured you would be able to find some form of interest in laser tag.

And oh boy was that an idea.

Hueningkai was so chipper and excited about it that he blasted ATEEZ in the car all the way there and talked about how fun it would be to shoot the other players with you by his side as his right hand man. However, when you arrived at the arena, it became very clear that you both were on opposing sides.

"(Y/N).... What'll I do over there without you? 🥲" *Pure fear*

"Fucking suffer under the wrath of my laser tag skills 😈" *Pure adrenaline*

Hiding behind one of the safety zones, you push forward towards the enemy base, keeping a watchful eye out for your 6'1 boyfriend. He would have a hard time hiding you would think since he was so tall, but something told you he'd be just fine.

Shooting a couple other players, you run towards the base and ready yourself to grab the flag. The concept of the game was basically capture the flag but with cool guns that went pew pew. You saw someone guarding it and shot them from afar, closing in on the target. The flag was in your hands and you were about to make a break for it when-

Two arms wrap around your chest, causing you to drop your winnings. You were then shoved into a wall and Kai held you there in place as he looked you up and down. "Trying to win, I see?" He asked, keeping in character of the game. It was both cute and annoying because you were both so competitive.

"Accept defeat." You said, trying to twist out of his grasp and make your way to the flag on the floor. Tacking you, the two of you fight each other for it and crash into a couple walls in the process. Lifting the flag above your head, you grin in triumph, flexing over the fact that you had beat Kai in a fist fight.

"(Y/N). Uh. Are you okay?"

"Huh?"

"Your nose is bleeding everywhere."

Low and behold, there was a steady trickle of red dropping from your nose all over your shirt and shorts. Sighing, you stick the flag in your pocket and Kai takes it from you while you're preoccupied with the blood.

"KAI YOU MOTHER FUCKER."

He leans in for a kiss and ends up getting blood smeared on his face. "I win."

He shot you in the chest and the lights turned on, meaning that the game was over and he had, in fact, won.

My absolute favorite fanfictions- especially the dragon fruit Hyunjin ones, they're classics. 💛🦐

Stray Kids ↬ M.List ☆

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Stories & Oneshots

❥  Bang Chan ↬ 

Roses are Red Au Type: [royal au, fantasy au] | Word Count: 11.2k Summary: Royal Gardener Christopher Bang only ever wanted to make music all his life, but being orphaned due to a senseless war against the Fire Nation left him at the hands of the kingdom to decide his fate. When tending to some of the many royal roses one day, he happened upon the kingdom’s princess, Y/n, and love at first sight was quite the understatement. However, what they are both unaware of is that she may already be betrothed to another…

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❥  Lee Minho ↬

Lavender Fire Au Type: [fantasy au, witch/magic au] | Word Count: 4.8k Summary: After being kidnapped and dropped off at the forbidden Lavender Hill, witch Y/n wanders into an abandoned mill and has a fateful encounter. 

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Smoke and Mirrors  Au Type: [wizard of oz au, love triangle] | Word Count: TBD Summary: Y/n L/n is the other girl from Kansas. She lives on a small, quiet farm with her Aunt and Uncle, and goes through the same routine everyday: go to school, tend to the crops, feed the chickens, help with dinner, do homework, lights out. Sometimes hang with her best friend, Hwang Hyunjin, along with his adorable sidekick Kkami. But lately, things have been rather odd in her small town. Besides the abnormal amount of storms cropping up despite the time of year, she can’t seem to get a strangely familiar voice out of her head that comes to her in dreams– and when one of those bizarre tornadoes hits a little too close to home, everything changes.

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Spinning Fate Au Type: [1,001 nights au] | Word Count: 528 Summary: A short drabble based off the Stories of 1,001 Nights, also known as Arabian Nights. When Y/n is selected to be the next wife of the misogynistic King Minho, it’s up to her quick wit and love of stories to save not only herself, but the entire kingdom as well.

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❥  Seo Changbin ↬

In The Air | Teaser Au Type: [mythology au, cupid au] | Word Count: TBD Summary: Y/n is a simple college student living in Seoul. She doesn’t have many friends, minus her family friend Minho of twelve-odd years, and living at home after 20 in order to help run your family’s business can be a real pain in the neck…especially when you have an obsessive helicopter parent of a mother that’s always breathing down your neck. But that all changes when a mysterious note finds its way to her front door. And when a bizarre man claiming to be cupid shows up, things only get weirder. (Check out Teaser for more information.)

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Pushing Up Daisies Au Type: [college au, secret admirer/stalker au] | Word Count: 4.7k Summary: There aren’t many things that have ever caught Seo Changbin off guard quite like the enigma that is transfer student Y/n L/n. Not knowing how to handle his newfound feelings, he takes matters into his own hands…in a peculiar way no one else would kindly agree with: hiding in the shadows.

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❥  Hwang Hyunjin ↬ 

Love in Times New Roman Au Type: [college au, secret admirer au] | Word Count: 8k Summary: It’d started with the most meddlesome English assignment ever, then spiraled into something more: a secret admirer, a letter, and a nefarious scoundrel of a roommate named Han Jisung. Throw in a future magician by Felix the Great, a couple of squadmates, some Rainbow Confetti, and a dinosaur professor stuck in a hopeless romantic past. What could possibly go wrong? → Only everything.

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Sunrise | (Prologue/Teaser) Au Type: [beauty and the beast au] | Word Count: 26k (ongoing) Summary: Y/n and childhood friend Rei are traveling merchants that work hard in order to support their families and escape the prospects of marriage. After running into a stranger by the name of Han Jisung and winding up in a place she shouldn’t be, she finds herself at the steps of a an old palace in an abandoned village…and the secrets that it’s kept locked away from long ago.

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Young Au Type: [carnival date au] | Word Count: 1.5k Summary: A short and sweet carnival date with your boyfriend, Hwang Hyunjin, who wanted to surprise you with some alone time.

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❥  Han Jisung ↬

Braked, Trifled Au Type: [slice of life, college au] | Word Count: 1.5k Summary: Y/n and college friend Junyong had just wanted to pick up some snacks for a fellow friend’s surprise party; the last thing they were expecting was to wind up in a fender-bender with local enemy Han Jisung.

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Starry-Eyed Au Type: [college au, theater au] | Word Count: 1.1k Summary: While shooting a group final project for theater, Y/n recounts the nostalgic memories of Han Jisung, as well as her ever-growing emotions.

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Vibe So Hot Au Type: [neighbor au, prank war au] | Word Count: 11.7k Summary: Y/n and F/n have been dreaming of the day they’d own their own house since the fifth grade. No more rules, no more worries…that is, until they grew up and found out there’s more to life than simply sneaking dips in the cookie jar. And that the most annoying nuisance not even life could have prepared them for— Han Jisung— lives just twenty feet away. When their unfavorable neighbor and crew takes one step too far, it’s no longer a matter of calling the cops or putting up with the vexingly irritating boy next door; it’s a declaration of war. 

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❥  Lee Felix ↬

Love My Game Au Type: [gamer au, love triangle feat. Park Jisung, NCT Dream] (cancelled, reboot TBD) | Word Count: TBD Summary: (TBA with reboot)

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Plush Hearts & Silver Linings Au Type: [college au, build-a-bear au] | Word Count: TBD Summary: Lee Felix and Co. have been moonlighting at build-a-bear workshop ever since their first semester of college. Felix likes to think he’s on top of just about everything that goes on both in the shop and other areas of his life; so when the curious Y/n shows up working as a teacher’s assistant for an elementary class field trip, one can imagine his surprise…and the fact that they’ll have to keep each other’s secret.

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Vividly Au Type: [college au, poetry au] | Word Count: 1.1k Summary: College student Lee Felix just wants to impress the girl of his dreams, but things get rather complicated when you aren’t as good with words as you’d like to be.

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❥  Kim Seungmin ↬

light switch | light switch 2 (cancelled) Au Type: [yandere au, school au] | Word Count: 19k Summary: It happened one fateful day after school; Y/n had just been cleaning up the classroom when school delinquent Kim Seungmin arrived. What happens after is an inclining friendship and a declining sense of safety; not just for Y/n, but for those around her as well.

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Smoke and Mirrors Au Type: [wizard of oz au, love triangle] | Word Count: TBD Summary: Y/n L/n is the other girl from Kansas. She lives on a small, quiet farm with her Aunt and Uncle, and goes through the same routine everyday: go to school, tend to the crops, feed the chickens, help with dinner, do homework, lights out. Sometimes hang with her best friend, Hwang Hyunjin, along with his adorable sidekick Kkami. But lately, things have been rather odd in her small town. Besides the abnormal amount of storms cropping up despite the time of year, she can’t seem to get a strangely familiar voice out of her head that comes to her in dreams– and when one of those bizarre tornadoes hits a little too close to home, everything changes.

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Verdant Elegy Au Type: [barista au, floral au, poetry] | Word Count: 1.1k Summary: Before clocking into work one morning, Kim Seungmin recalls a harsh reality, and later, faces a bittersweet truth.

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❥  Yang Jeongin ↬

Everything’s Coming Up Roses Au Type: [cult au, florist au, time travel au] | Word Count: TBD Summary: Normalcy. That’s all Y/n had asked for. But apparently that’s impossible when you fall in love with a boy who runs a flower shop by day that covers for a cult base at night; and when, next thing you know, you’re falling through the sky…

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A Floral Memoir Au Type: [flower shop au, friends to lovers au] | Word Count: 3.9k Summary: A flashback of growing up together prompts Y/n to make a decision about her future.

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Rain Season Au Type: [nostalgia, friends to lovers au] | Word Count: 1.1k Summary: In which Y/n meets up with long-time friend Yang Jeongin after he embarks on his quest to become an idol.

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Timestamps

♫ Bang Chan: [오후 11:02]

♫ Lee Know, Minho: [오후 2:51] | [오후 8:24]

♫ Seo Changbin: [오전 12:30]

♫ Hwang Hyunjin: [오후 12:03]

♫ Han Jisung: [오전 1:38]

♫ Lee Felix: [오후 10:14]

♫ Kim Seungmin: [오후 8:01]

♫ Yang Jeongin: [오후 6:28]

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Stories & Oneshots feat.SKZ

☆ Dark Rising - NCT 127′s Johnny, supernatural au (cancelled)  ☆ Glasses - NCT Dream’s Jaemin, yandere au, mafia au ☆ Riddle Me This - NCT Dream’s Chenle, detective au (cancelled)

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BONUS ↬ Dragon Fruit Saga 

(Crack blurbs requested anonymously(?) by my wack friends :)) Feel free to join and send in some requests, just keep it PG-13)

In which Hyunjin punches you with dragon fruit…

In which Hyunjin kills you with dragon fruit…

In which Hyunjin sends you dragon fruit…

In which Hyunjin must choose between you or dragon fruit…

In which Jisung is scared of dragon fruit…

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Reactions and other Stray Kids related posts

↬ Stray Kids Instagram series ↬ Stray Kids as Blade and Soul characters ↬ Stray Kids Incorrect Quotes: Blade and Soul Part 1 ↬ Stray Kids Incorrect Quotes: Blade and Soul Part 2 ↬ Stray Kids Playing Animal Crossing: New Horizons

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↠ special thanks to @moonlit-han​ for letting me use her copyright layout <3 ↠ special thanks to @hanniiesuckle17​ for being my part-time editor <3 ↠ special thanks to @dulc3-p3riculum​ for always supporting me <3 ↠ © 2019-2021 leggomylino.tumblr.com. Unauthorized use or reproduction of works is expressly prohibited. Do not repost, plagiarize, claim as your own, or translate my works. Thank you. <3

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Ever So Slightly.

Steve Harrington X Reader

⚠️ Warnings: this one is very PG-13 with a bit of angst ⚠️

Harrington fondly thinks back to his car... And your lips.

His BMW 733i was parked outside of Hawkins Highschool, the soft screeching of tires as he put his foot on the brake and eased it into a parking space. There wasn't a soul for miles, the only brightness coming from the singular streetlight in the middle of the lot, shining down on the two students who had made their way to the familiar building after hours. Both windows rolled up halfway and feet placed on the dash. The night was calm and quiet with the exception of cicadas chirping their songs and filling the void with something other than the nothingness of the quiet town. Stars shone overhead and created patterns of light across the sky, however, not enough for illumination of any sort. Just darkness for miles.

He looked so lovely. His eyes glanced up and down over your frame but not in a way other than pure and utter admiration. He felt just as calm as the world around him, not feeling a care in the world at what everyone else had gotten up to tonight. The party at Tommy Hagan's house that he had been expected to show up at. The Dungeons and Dragons campaign at the Wheeler's. The movie showing at the theatre in town. None of it mattered. The only thing that he could care about in this moment was your soft touch on his arm or the delicate breaths you took as you explored every inch of his mouth further. Your hands gliding up his face and fingers intertwining in his hair. The content state of your heartbeat pulsating calmly and the way your shirt felt under the palms of Steve's hands. Everything about you was so perfect, so- meticulous- that Steve assumed the universe placed you in Hawkins for the sole purpose of being his.

Cherry chapstick colliding with the taste of Steve's last cigarette, you had to say you felt the same. His manly but beautiful frame beneath you digging deeper into the seat with every kiss placed with intention and passion. Your hands running over the top of his jeans and hooking into the belt loops. He was your solace, your brain suddenly blank from all the intrusive and desolate thoughts from earlier. His lips guiding you to the freedom from pain and offering you a home to wander into; a blanket and a a cup of warm tea at the entryway of peace.

His hair felt so soft under the callouses of your fingers and the strands ran through like silk, slipping away from your grasp only for you to collide with them again. A slight pull of his hair left Steve in a state of frustration as he wanted to melt further into you and not to be pulled away. This longing wasn't a sexual one but more of a sensual one; wanting to envelop himself within you as close as humanly possible, wanting to flow through your veins and seep through your chest until the two of you were one. Pulling you back in, his cheeks are flushed and soft noise of fondness escapes your lips as you allowed him to know how he was making you feel.

"Hey," you said, breaking the quiet. It seemed forbidden to speak with how serene everything was even though your voice was just barely above a whisper. Steve looked down at you in confusion with furrowed brows, wondering what you were going to say. "We should put on some music or something."

Steve smiled. Of course you wanted music. It was your favorite thing in the entire world and he was pretty sure that he was a close second. Reaching around your frame to turn on the stereo, he shifts through the channels until he finds something suitable. A dark and low synth song starts to play through his speakers, perfecting the aesthetic of the night.

"This okay?" He asks, turning back to you and seeing your eyes light up.

"Absolutely."

.

Walking through the hallway on the last day of school was tiresome. Seeing all of the places that held memories that were good and bad filled your vision and your mind as you truly realized this was the last time you would be here. The green and orange tiles and the posters with tigers on them seemed to mock you as you continued your path towards the rows and rows of lockers for clean-out day.

Your shoes scuffed against the floor as you lost yourself in thought. Nothing would ever be the same again. Sure, it was a new chapter in your life but part of you would miss this old one. Riding around the block with your friends and singing your favorite songs. Staying up late drinking and coming into school high the next day. Sharing pencils with the weird kids in class who insisted they draw all over your notebook which you didn't mind. You felt like a collection of different thoughts and times just like the drawings that filled those pages.

Turning the corner you thought back to everyone you've met. The good and the bad and the in-between which was reserved for one person in particular- Steve Harrington himself. Leaning against one of the lockers wearing a dark yellow sweater and blue jeans looking as ethereal as ever. His hair had grown quite a bit from the last time you'd seen him and it made you laugh at the memory of how much Farrah Faucet hairspray he would put in it. Now, it was unkempt and a bit ridiculous.

His gaze went to yours and he faltered ever so slightly. You were still beautiful. Still you. Headphones dangling around your neck and a baggy shirt. Your lips were still stained with that cherry chapstick he'd tasted so many times before Nancy's strawberry one. You seemed quite surprised to see him after so long and you offered up a slight smile. He didn't know what you were thinking in that moment, but he was sure it was the night you two spent in the car, hiding away from the rest of the world.

He remembered when it was the two of you against the world before the mess of the Upside Down. Before the world became more than basketball games and parties. Before the world went crazy. Before he fell in love with someone else.

He felt a slight pang in his chest from how much he had loved you long ago. And to his surprise he smiled back at you. Ever so slightly.

through gritted teeth

pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Reader

reader's race & gender are ambiguous; no pronouns or physical descriptors are used.

summary:

The man says he’s your husband.  He’s polite, charming, intelligent. He seems a little pretentious, but he appears to know you rather well and the thinly-veiled devotion in his eyes dispels most of your remaining doubts.  It certainly helps that the man is rather well-dressed—and attractive, a traitorous voice in the back of your mind whispers.  Unfortunately, you have no idea who he is. 

word count: 3.8k | ao3 version

You wake up to fluorescent lighting burning into your eyes, pulling tears down your cheeks as you blink stars from your vision. Your entire body aches with exhaustion and you can feel a headache brewing already. Groaning, you try to push yourself up to a sitting position. There’s an IV attached to your arm and, upon closer inspection, you seem to be in some sort of hospital room. White walls line the space, and there’s nothing much of note in your immediate vicinity. You blink a few more times past your absurdly dry eyes and continue inspecting the room, until your eyes catch on the chair to the right side of your bed. 

There’s a man sitting at your bedside with his eyes closed. He stirs within a few moments, as if he can sense you staring at him. Relief is written all over his face as he leans forward and clasps your hand with a small smile on his face. You can’t stop yourself from instinctively flinching at the contact and he notices, removing his hand at once. 

“Do you remember who I am?” He asks. His words are carefully constructed, strung together with eloquence and remnants of what sounds like an accent from a European country. You blink at him once, twice. It takes a moment for you to process the question, and another to contemplate the answer. The man doesn’t look familiar. Indeed, he looks like a stranger. 

When you tell him as much, a sad smile works its way onto his face. It seems he expected your answer. He begins to explain the circumstances surrounding your visit here, which you are immensely grateful for. You know next to nothing as you sit in this hospital bed, and, try as you might, you can’t remember anything save for your name. 

Apparently, you’ve suffered a serious head injury that left you with a spontaneous case of amnesia. Fortunately, your memories will likely return to you in due time. Somehow, these two revelations aren’t the most shocking of statements from the stranger. What the man reveals next shakes you to your core: he’s your husband. 

Upon closer examination, you find that the man is charming, polite… He’s rather attractive, too, with fine-combed hair and sparkling brown eyes with flecks of amber. His face looks as if it was sculpted by Michelangelo himself—sweeping lines, sharp edges, soft curves. The man is intelligent and [perhaps as a result] a little pretentious. From his attire, you can only assume that he makes a lot of money and has rather particular tastes. You could see someone like this going to the opera regularly. 

But there’s something else about this man—something lurking beneath the surface. You can’t puzzle out what it is. There’s something sinister concealed in those reddish-brown eyes, an unspoken violence in the man’s careful poise. And you think you catch him intently scrutinizing you—as if you’re under a microscope.  

You soon learn that the man’s name is Hannibal Lecter. He’s a psychiatrist who used to be a surgeon. He’s in his 40s. He has refined tastes—and even goes to the opera on occasion, yes. He is fascinating, intriguing beyond measure. He discusses heavily philosophical topics with ease. He is slippery, only giving you the information he wants to give you. He has a very controlled image. The dishes he cooks you are extravagant and lavish, with ingredients you’ve never even heard of. (The meat in them is always some sort of organ, and it turns your stomach every time.)

In the wake of your injury, you’re unsure of almost everything. But you know one thing for certain: Hannibal is not your husband. And you’re convinced that he’s dangerous. You don’t trust him—can’t trust his carefully crafted words, his home-cooked meals, his polite smiles. It’s all a farce. 

It would be all too easy to ask your next visitor about this well-dressed, enigmatic man. Unfortunately, you don’t get any other visitors. In fact, your next visitor is Hannibal again… And again. And again. It gets to the point where your nurse gives up on having him sign in when he visits. At first, she had been rather strict in enforcing the rules; she seems to have caught onto something that you still haven’t grasped, because she now collects herself with an entirely different—almost heightened—awareness. 

You’re having increasingly conflicting feelings, especially when you consider the fact that Hannibal hasn’t actually exhibited any behavior that justifies your wariness and suspicion. If anything, he’s been the perfect supporter—the perfect husband—throughout your recovery. You want to believe your gut sense, want to believe the whispers in the back of your mind that tell you to exercise caution. But, at the same time, who’s to say they can be believed? You still have almost no recollection of who you are. Why are you questioning the only person who has bothered to show up for you throughout your recovery? 

Days pass in the blink of an eye; before you know it, Hannibal is walking in one morning with the declaration that you’ve been officially discharged from the hospital. Despite your misgivings, you head to the bathroom to change into some normal clothes before putting on the pair of shoes near the door. Your heart is racing as Hannibal’s gaze refuses to leave your form. Why can’t your mind rest? Why can’t your thoughts be silent, for once? Why are you so damn suspicious of every minute kindness? 

The walk out of the hospital and through the parking lot is painfully silent. You can’t resist sneaking glances at Hannibal, waiting for his mask to crack and fall. It never does. He catches you looking and sends you a smile, which discourages you from looking again. You let your eyes roam about the shiny cars in the parking lot as the warm afternoon sunlight greets your skin. You missed the fresh air. 

“Where are you taking me?” You finally ask, as you continue to follow behind the man.

“Home,” Hannibal remarks. He pointedly does not say your home or even our home. Your heart is racing in your chest. His back is turned, leaving you to imagine the expression on his face.  

It isn’t until you’re secured in the front seat and Hannibal’s driving out of the parking lot that you summon the courage to utter the question that has been plaguing your mind. “Are you really my husband?”

“Hm?” It’s clear he heard you; he’s giving you a chance to retract the remark. You know you should take it, but… you want to know what’s going on. You need to find an answer for the seemingly irrational fear drumming in your chest and rushing in your ears. 

“You say you’re my husband,” You repeat yourself, gaining a bit more confidence. “But I don’t think you are.” For an awful moment, there’s nothing but silence. The car zips along the road. You feel your hand trembling at your side—hopefully the only visible sign of your distress. You clench your shaking hand into a fist and try to remain calm. Panicking won’t do you any good. 

“Do you remember how we first met?” Hannibal asks instead. You stare at him in disbelief, surprised by how he completely ignores your accusation. There is an utter lack of emotion on his face. Seconds later, you remember his question and shake your head. “You’re an FBI agent,” Hannibal reveals. “I was called in to perform your psychiatric evaluation.”

Great. Just great. Out of all things, you had to be an FBI agent. The thought of forgetting your work—forgetting all the victims left to die in muddied puddles of crimson, forgetting all the killers with mocking smiles and cruelty written in the lines of their faces—is sincerely troubling.  

And Hannibal is a psychiatrist. That seems to fit—you can see him in a needlessly extravagant office, surrounded by books and expensive elegancies. You have to shake your head to get rid of the weirdly vivid imagery that your thoughts produce. “Are you… my psychiatrist, then?” You ask. 

“If you wish,” he replies with a mirthful smile. That answer doesn’t satisfy your curiosity—not in the slightest. 

“Were you my psychiatrist?” You press. You get the feeling that you need to be asking the right questions in order to get the answers you want. The man across from you is adept at picking apart people’s words, flipping them around and twisting their intended meaning. Your wording will be immensely important. 

“I was your psychiatrist, for a time,” Hannibal acquiesces. From that statement, you get the sense that he really was your psychiatrist, until something evidently happened. You ask him as much, but you seem to go too far, because he regards you with an amused glance. “You’re asking a lot of questions.”

“And you’re not giving me any answers,” you feel the need to respond. You have simultaneous suspicions that honesty is dangerous in front of Hannibal, and that he values honesty above sugar-coated words. Your eyebrows furrow. “You haven’t exactly been forthcoming with information.”

“Is that so?” Hannibal is providing more questions in lieu of answers. He’s definitely hiding something. Sensing that you won’t get anything more from him, you fall silent and settle for staring at him out of the corner of your eye. His gaze is locked on the road ahead.  Despite the time you’ve spent together, talking about your past, you still aren’t totally convinced that you’re married to Hannibal. Is there a way you could test him—test his knowledge of you? Surely there’s something you can ask him to determine if he truly knows you or not. 

It comes to you a moment later. “What’s my favorite color?” You ask, before you can think better of it. The man doesn’t react at first, instead staring straight ahead. Just before you can repeat the question, he answers. 

“I can’t imagine you have a favorite color,” Hannibal responds. “You once told me the very notion was foolish.”

Okay, he’s sort of correct there. But that was an easy question. You sort through the few memories you have, looking for something you can ask him. “What’s my middle name?” That’s an answer that you just barely know yourself—a memory came back to you a mere few minutes ago, of you and your childhood friend talking about middle names and nicknames and other unimportant things. 

Hannibal answers the question correctly again. The two of you must’ve been friends, at the very least. You continue to search your mind for something you can ask him. 

Five minutes and several questions later, you’re starting to doubt your own conviction. Hannibal answers every single question correctly, providing you with information you don’t remember but know deep-down to be true. It’s unnerving and disturbing to think that you could’ve forgotten this man so easily. He seems… utterly unforgettable, in every sense of the word. Furthermore, he’s your husband—perhaps you shouldn’t be doubting him so easily. 

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, before you can quite contemplate your next words. Hannibal’s eyes are locked on the road, but you know he’s listening. “I don’t mean to doubt you, I just- I don’t know what to do. I don’t remember anything, obviously, and… I feel so lost.” You choke out, your throat burning. You bury your head in your hands for a selfish moment, hoping for some solace and clarity. 

“Don’t apologize, dear,” Hannibal says. You hate how the remark sends a shiver down your spine. Damn it, why can’t you just be comfortable? This man is practically a dream, so why are you trying to ruin it? Can’t you just accept that, sometimes, you deserve to have nice things?! Hannibal continues, unknowing of your internal dilemma. “You’re going through a lot right now. I’m just happy to be here with you.” 

You feel ashamed, knowing that you’ve been holding yourself back despite the fact that Hannibal has shown you nothing but compassion and affection. “I’m… happy you’re here, too,” you say. Guilt prickling in your chest, you impulsively reach out and clasp his free hand resting on the console. Somehow, this surprises your husband, because he stiffens for a second before reciprocating, gripping your hand reassuringly. 

“We will get through this,” he promises. You push aside your doubts and decide to believe him.

Maybe things really will be alright. Maybe, you’ll get your memories back sooner rather than later, and you’ll be able to look back on these moments—riddled with doubt, insecurity, wariness—and laugh. You take a deep breath and look out the window, watching the passing trees blur together. 

Your hand slips from Hannibal’s and you look at your nails, picking at your cuticles. Your hands are somewhat indicative of the life you led—the one you don’t remember living—with a few scars stretching down your wrist and climbing up your forearm. You look down at the healed wound and frown, trying to remember how you got the scar. 

Suddenly, you get a flicker of a memory. It’s faint and fast, but it’s a reminder of the past nonetheless. You squint ahead, trying to focus on keeping the flashback in your mind for long enough to dissect it. You remember… blood. A corpse, perhaps? Yes, a corpse. A woman’s corpse, hoisted and impaled on antlers. You remember… staring at that corpse for so long that you had to be physically led away from the scene, albeit with a gnawing feeling in your gut that something just wasn’t right. You remember… walking into an office, only to be met with Hannibal’s curious gaze. That must’ve been the first time you met the psychiatrist. You put a hand to your temple and try desperately to concentrate. 

“You look as if you’ve seen a ghost,” Hannibal says, effectively throwing your focus. You blink and chance a glance at him. He’s still looking at the road, yet you can’t shake the perplexing conviction that he’s been watching you. What’s more, you can’t shake the feeling that his interjection was purposeful—that he meant to throw you off and break your concentration. 

“I- just remembered something,” you choke out, feeling a bolt of pain slide down your scalp to the back of your neck. You bring a hand to the nape of your neck and press, hissing as your fingers glide over sore muscles. “Something important.”

“Congratulations,” Hannibal hums, immune to your internal panic. You don’t know exactly what this man did, but he must’ve done something. Your subconscious is convinced that he is incredibly dangerous, and you feel inclined to trust your gut. 

Another flashback arrives, apropos of nothing. You remember sitting across from Hannibal in a finely-decorated room, lined with bookshelves and artifacts. You remember averting your eyes as you speak, desperate to avoid the roaring flames racing up your skin with every additional moment of prolonged eye contact. You remember… a twisted grin on Hannibal’s face. You remember… the intensity to his gaze as he studied you when he thought you weren’t looking. 

Unsettled, you shake your head and try to refocus on the passing scenery again. To your surprise, you think you recognize where you are. Hannibal must be taking you home. You take a deep breath. You just have to survive this car ride—then you can figure things out from there. You have all the time in the world to muse on the nature of your injury and the nature of your “husband,” once you’re safely contained within four walls. Right now, though, you need to be wary. You need to have your wits about you, you need to watch for any sudden movements, you need to be ready-

“We’re here,” Hannibal announces, promptly throwing your thought process to a halt. You blink and look ahead, only to find a nondescript home with beige siding and a somewhat weathered front door. Vaguely, you remember pulling your car into this driveway, remember unpacking boxes from your trunk. Yes, this is your house. Hannibal is much quicker on the uptake, as he gets out of the car and walks around the vehicle. You don’t realize that he’s opening the passenger door for you until you feel him staring at you expectantly. You thank him and get to your feet, a sudden bout of dizziness sending you wobbling. Hannibal is there in a moment, steadying you with a hand on your forearm. You pretend not to notice his hand on the small of your back as you walk up the path to the front porch. When you’re finally situated in front of the entrance, you realize that you have no idea where your keys could be. 

“Left pocket of your jacket,” Hannibal murmurs, as if reading your mind. You nearly choke on a breath. 

“Thanks,” you respond a bit breathlessly. When you finally manage to unlock the front door and swing it open, you turn back to face him. “Well, thank you for the ride.”

“Of course,” Hannibal responds easily. There’s a regretful smile rising on his face. Everything around you fades to obscurity. “I’m afraid this is goodbye.” That remark sounds strangely ominous. Your heart is in your throat. 

“Thank you for keeping me company,” you feel the need to say, regardless of your suspicions about the man. He was the only one to visit you. You don’t want to think about how you would feel if you spent your entire hospital visit without a single familiar face. “...Bye.” Suddenly, there’s a hand on your cheek. Hannibal’s hand cradles your jaw, his thumb gently roving along your skin. He regards you for a moment, his eyes sparkling, before kissing you on the cheek and leaving. You watch him return to his car and drive away, apprehension and adrenaline coursing through you. Somehow, you get the feeling that you’ll never see Hannibal again. 

Your doorbell rings about an hour later. You look through your peephole, only to find a somewhat intimidating man with his hands shoved in his pockets. You have to focus on quelling the foolish spike of hope that had risen in your chest when the doorbell rang, and the subsequent disappointment at the unfamiliar figure you found. You take a second glance at the stranger, only to find that he looks somewhat familiar. This vague familiarity convinces you to crack your front door open slightly and ask him, “Who are you?”

The man pulls something out of his pocket. “Jack Crawford, FBI,” he answers, showing you his identification card. You stare at him for another moment. “Your boss.” Crawford supplies, when you can’t seem to get the words out. After a few seconds of awkward silence, you decide to invite him inside. 

Before long, the two of you are settled in your living room. The tension that first appeared when you opened your front door has yet to fade. You’re not sure why this man has yet to crop up in your memories—he has a rather powerful aura of authority, not to mention the fact that he’s apparently your superior. You decide not to beat yourself up about it. Your memories will come back in due time; until then, you’ll make do with what little you have.

Crawford—Jack, he tells you to call him—clasps his hands over his knees and levels you with an unreadable gaze. “I need to ask you something,” Jack says, rifling through his other pocket and pulling out a folded piece of paper. He unfolds it slowly, before revealing it to you. “Do you remember this man? Hannibal Lecter?” Jack explains, immune to your growing dread. You feel sick to your stomach as your eyes flit across the black-and-white photograph of the same man who watched over you vigilantly as you recovered, who claimed to be your husband and kissed you on the cheek mere moments ago. “He’s the Chesapeake Ripper—the serial killer who has been evading capture.” 

“I-” You stammer, bringing a hand to your temple. Your headache from earlier is returning and your head is spinning from this sudden disclosure. You almost don’t want to believe Jack, but you get the feeling that he’d have no reason to lie to you. If anything, lying would just make his job harder. You take a shuddering breath in, trying to come to terms with the fact that you just narrowly escaped a serial killer’s grasp. 

“It’s alright,” Jack tries to reassure you, evidently sensing that you’re growing a bit panicked. 

“No, I-” You’re choking on the words. Recent memories are mixing with old, creating a convoluted and murky timeline of events. It’s hard to sort through everything, to find the truths hidden amongst the lies. You’re not sure how long it takes for you to collect your composure and organize your thoughts into a relatively coherent statement. “I saw him. He… visited me in the hospital. He drove me home.” 

“What?” Jack asks, utter disbelief written all over his face. You don’t remember your boss very well, but you get the feeling he isn’t usually so expressive. The look on his face would be comical, in a different situation. “What did he say to you?” He implores.

“He said a lot of things… Nothing very important.” You try to recall what you can, but your memories are quickly slipping through your fingertips in granules of sparkling sand. You press a hand to your temple, your headache growing worse as you try to recall what happened. “I tried asking him questions about me, to throw him off, but he knew all the answers.” 

Somehow, Jack doesn’t seem surprised by the notion. “You two were… close, before,” your boss evidently settles for saying. There’s a certain suspicion in his voice, as if he suspects you may have been more than “close” with Hannibal. You’re feeling too discombobulated to rise to the bait or bother calling him out on the obvious verbal trap. 

“He said ‘goodbye,’” you continue, eyebrows furrowing. Somehow, you get the sense that Hannibal isn’t the type to utter goodbyes. Moreover, a goodbye ushers in a sense of finality, as if you will truly never see him again. You pinch the bridge of your nose, pretending that your exchange with him on your doorstep isn’t replaying in your mind. He kissed me on the cheek, you don’t say to Jack. He said he was my husband. He watched over me in the hospital when no one else did. And it may have been fake, all of it… But that gleam of affection in his eyes didn’t look manufactured—it looked genuine.  

Jack looks troubled and somewhat restless. “You’re lucky you made it out alive.” He states. You don’t think you can quite believe his words. For whatever reason, Hannibal Lecter—the Chesapeake Ripper—is interested in you. Whether sick fascination or cloying obsession, you have to face the facts:  luck had nothing to do with it. The Ripper kept you alive because, inexplicably, he wants you alive. 

And that unnerves you. 

hannibal taglist, cause i think y'all would be down with reading this since it's also hannibal: @its-ares @tobbotobbs @xrisdoesntexist @gr1mmac3 @tiredstarcerberuslamb @yourlocalratwriter @kingkoku @kahuunknown @atlas-king1 @pendragon-writes @slipknotcentury @cryinersaved @the-ultimate-librarian @starre-eyes @pendragon-writes @peterparkeeperer @gayschlatt69 @flow33didontsmoke @mrgatotortuga @house-of-1000-corpses-fan

MAKE ME CHOOSE ↳ wings or love yourself era? — anonymous

watching stranger things isn’t enough, i need to makeout with steve harrington in the back of his car

Hi there! I just finished reading nearly all of your work and I want to say I LOVED it, especially your writing for Fight Club. I was wondering about your thoughts on The Narrator from Fight Club (the main character who shares a brain with Tyler), or if he’s at all involved when you think about Tyler. Xoxo love ur work

Hiiii omg!!

First of all, I'm so so grateful you took the time out of your day to read my fics! I'm so glad that you enjoyed them!

I personally love Edward Norton and his role within Fight Club, so I do often think of him while writing. When setting up a plan for creating another addition to Fight Club in fanfiction, I usually try to think of Edward Norton as well such as, "is this an interchangeable dialogue between both Edward Norton and Brad Pitt?" However, I usually tend to put in the Brad Pitt gifs and gear things towards his style of being Tyler Durden because that's my own personal appeal but also others as he's quite the individual.

Thank you for asking!!

💛🦐

OMG wait this is so cute thank you for tagging me!

Last movie I watched: The Neverending Story but specifically the second one because my boyfriend needs noise to sleep and that's the disc we had.

Last book I read: Call Me By Your Name. I was going through another wave of Timothée Chalamet adoration and I thought that it would be cool to finally read the book!

Last song I listened to: 21 C/Delta by Jack Harlow 😭 he's my guilty pleasure artist definitely.

Currently watching: Nothing. I don't usually have the time to sit through TV shows but every now and then I complete one. I was excited for the second season of Alice in Borderland, but I wasn't too pleased with the outcome of season two :(

Currently eating: Pickles and ranch, the best food combo ever on my opinion.

Currently craving: Pickles and ranch which makes sense because I'm eating them.

This was fun! Thanks again for tagging me!

I'm tagging:

@andrewgarfield2022 @blu-ray-ok @leggomylino

💛🦐

tag 9 people you wanna get to know more!

i can't believe that 3 ppl (who i also really wanted to know about and was so interested in reading their takes on this tag) tagged me, i am shocked XDD

thank you so much @thedudewithfivenames , @wantsword , @norttinson <333

ok here we go

three ships: Soapshipping + Narrator/Marla, AngelRicky

favorite ship ever: probably AmberPrice from Life is Strange :")

last song: skeletons by snake eyes

last movie: can't remember 😭 probably was rewatching fight club (for the plot of course)

currently reading: american psycho!

currently watching: you on netflix. great show, s1 joe won my heart

currently consuming: nothing but i plan on making morning coffee lol

currently craving: some flaming hot chips rrrrrrrr need those like right in this moment

feel free to ignore! i'm tagging @shynarrator , @hobisfavoritespritecan , @blondedmuse , @narraticn aaaand i think that will be all since i'm kinda scared to bother people x))

Y o u n g L o v e

Pairing: Tate Langdon X Reader

⚠️ Warnings: none ⚠️

Listen to this song while you read:

You slipped into the cold black sheets that adorned your mattress as you prepared yourself for sleep. It was an autumn night and you were ready to fall asleep listening to the rain patter against the glass of your bedroom window. The red panes cast an eerie glow over everything and made your room illuminated in the color. There was something soft and beautiful about it; something you couldn't put your finger on that made you feel as though you were safe and comfortable. Ironically, you were living in a house full of ghosts.

But they were not bad.

Your head hit the pillow and your eyes met the ceiling. It had only been a month since you've moved into the infamous Murder House, yet you were content. The house may have been old and the people may have been rude, but you found yourself here. And you were grateful.

"Hey."

You felt the bed dip next to you and you moved over to the left side to make room for Tate as you participated in your nightly routine. His hand met your back as your face met his chest, your hands reaching up to play with his hair. This is where you felt the safest. Surrounded by the smell of cigarettes and the cashmere of your boyfriend's sweater. The feeling of a now warm bed and the arms resting delicately over your frame. You wouldn't trade this for the world.

Tate kissed you softly on the head; the rain crashing against your window as the storm's intensity increased. Thunder rolled in and made the quiet house alive with the noise of the sky and the universe above. And amongst it all; you were holding your favorite part of the universe in your arms. His short breaths hitting the top of your head and the sound of his heartbeat resonating through his chest signifying that he was both comfortable and in love.

"Hey. Enjoying the rain?" You softly asked him.

He smiled and let out a short laugh. "Of course I am."

He moved your hair out of your face so that he could look you in the eyes. Tate has done a lot of bad in this world. He wasn't always the sweet and loving person you knew him as today. There was a time when his name brought people fear and pain instead of admiration and peace. You were lucky to know him now; you had gone most of your life thinking that people could never change but here he was. Living proof that people aren't always what they seem.

"I love you so much." He said as his gaze met yours. "And I wouldn't trade you for the world." He planted another kiss to your forehead before smiling down at you once more in his arms. In his mind, that's exactly where you belonged, even though there were times where he didn't believe he deserved to have you there. Times when he was alone and found his thoughts drifting to you as they usually did. Times when he saw you leave the house and remembered that you were very much alive. That you still had things to do and people to meet and experiences to have. He felt so selfish for keeping you to himself sometimes knowing that the house was all he could offer you besides from himself. And it crushed him.

As guilty as he felt, having you here tonight made all of his negative thoughts disperse. What had he been so nervous of? Why had he originally fought against the idea of loving you when he first saw you move in? Why had he tried to avoid every attempt of contact you made? Why did he try to convince you that your feelings for him were invalid because you didn't know the truth? It was only when you did find out and you agreed to continue loving him that he let his walls come crashing down.

You still loved him despite his past and the people he's hurt. You still offered to be here and to hold him on nights like these where the loneliness oftentimes took over. You still wore his sweaters and snuggled with him when he felt anxious. You still danced to Nirvana even though it wasn't your taste in music. You still wanted him. And that was more than he could ever ask for.

"Are you okay?" You asked, reaching up to touch his face.

"I'm absolutely perfect."

Lying there, you both fell asleep holding each other and letting the rain drown out the sound of your hearts beating for young love.

NIGHTCALL

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Here's a visualizer for the fanfiction I posted!! 💚💚