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smokescreenimusprime · 1 year

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Hi hi! I’ve been reading your smokescreen stuff and I had a thought. Specifically, a thought for a sort of, alternate version of the early crash AU. Smokescreen crashes early, but he crashes in the middle of nowhere and is damaged. He goes into stasis for a while, and when he wakes up the only system he can use is his holoprpjector. (He’s also stuck, buried deep underground in the middle of the Nevada desert, so that’s no fun either)

But he has his holoprpjector, and spends the next several decades just…vibing around Jasper. Then, he meets Jack. And they’re roughly the same age, so they hit it off. (Tho Smokes always has to explain why he doesn’t eat, or drink, or seemingly use the bathroom, and all kinds of other fun excuses to keep Jack off his trail). But then the Kids get involved with Team Prime, and suddenly Smokescreen is being confronted with Cybertronians for the first time in decades (possibly even for the first time in centuries).

And now he just has to figure out how to tell the bots what his deal is. (He doesn’t like being buried and may or may not have developed an intense claustrophobia.)

OOOOOOOOOOOO I REALLY LIKE THAT 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

I hope you don't mind but my brain went kinda insane with this thought and low key came up with a mini fic plan for it so-

just. Smokescreen slowly fitting into the little human society built above him. Going to their schools, working their jobs, living their lives. Maybe the first few times he lives the lives, he isn't perfect. He'll slip up and forget certain details about himself, or he'll be a bit too fast or strong and in such a small town rumours spread quickly

In his first lifetime as a human, Smokescreen kept to himself. He acted the way he always did, but kept to himself and watched from afar to learn more about humanity. He enrolled himself at Jasper High, got a job, bought a small apartment to call his own and did his best to ignore the pointed rumours and whispers from behind his back. For as amazing as humans could be, at times they could be just as cruel as the bots back home

it's a lot of stumbling and learning and making mistakes and he doesn't have any friends, but it's a step up to being alone in the quiet dark of his stasis pod, so he'll take it. He lives through his human's life, working, creating, starting hobbies, and so much more. The freedom to do things just for the sake of doing, of being allowed to pursue any job he chose without legal limitations, of being able to draw and paint and sing without countless rules and segregations preventing him....... it's freeing in a way he didn't know he'd been restricted

his 2nd life went much smoother, with a lot of the Nuances Of Being Human having been figured out. He had some difficulties "faking" his death since driving off into the desert with all his belongings then returning in the same vehicle with the same belongings would raise more rumours than he'd like to deal with, so he ends up packing all his important things and trinkets into boxes, gets a moving company to take them away, "dies" (he just messes with the settings on his holoform and waits for his body to be buried/cremated before dissipating it), moves in a few weeks later with a new identity and has the same moving company bring his stuff back

his 3rd life was more of the same, and not a whole lot stood out. He socialised better with other humans, but most of the bonds had had were kept at a bit of a distance. The fact he couldn't go super far from Jasper severely limited his hang out options since it's not exactly the entertainment capital of the world, but he makes do

his 4th life was actually cut short, which he's endlessly salty about. He managed to make it to his late 20s/early 30s, and this time around he wanted to experiment a bit. Specifically, he wanted to try street racing. Human cars were really starting to get interesting, and he wanted in. It had been far too long since he last raced, and while he wasn't going to be the one on the road, being behind the wheel was the next best thing. And he's damn good driver too, one of the best in the circuits around Jasper, and he dominates the local races for years

........but yeah it doesn't go so well in the end. Smokescreen's avatar ends up getting into an accident, one that he'd definitely not be able to get away with survival and ends up having to cut things short. It was a mad scramble in the next few days to get his stuff somewhere safe, and he unfortunately wasn't able to get all of it. It took him almost three months to cool off enough to make another human. It's was..... definitely difficult recognising so many people with them not recognising him, but he managed

but then something interesting happens nearing the end of his 5th life

Smokescreen had gotten some new neighbours. That in itself wasn't anything new, he got new neighbours all the time. They were a young couple freshly married and nothing that really garnered extra attention. Smokescreen did end up running into the wife at the grocery store a few times, and that's how he ends up learning her name

June Darby

he sees her around a few more times and they make pleasant conversation. At times, Smokescreen thinks they might even be friends, but he's hesitant to put a label on it It's been so long since he's had a friend, he doesn't want to scare her off

and things are nice. They talk over coffee and walk through the park together, enjoying each other's company. June tells him about her life and Smokescreen tells her about his human one. They have fun, laugh, make jokes, and when June gets pregnant Smokescreen is ecstatic to meet the kid

but then...... then things took a turn for the worst

Smokescreen had never liked Mr.Darby. He had his suspicions, had his gut feelings, but never had anything other than that to go off of. He doesn't even know what about the man made him feel so uneasy, just that something about him, about how June would take every opportunity to get out of the house, about how she always looked so tired in a way medical school couldn't explain.......

everything comes crashing down one night. At 11pm he hears yelling outside his house and frantic banging on his door. He's on his feet in an instant, and he's horrified what he sees

June, crying and shaking with a bruise on her cheek and Mr.Darby trying to drag her away

in that moment, Smokescreen forgets he's supposed to be a frail old man and punches him so hard the man's jaw shatters

June spends the night with him. He gently guides her to the guest room and keeps watch all night. Sleep was simply a formality at this point, one he was more than willing to forgo for her safety

it was easy enough to get Mr.Darby to back off. Smokescreen had accumulated quite the fortune over the (technical) generations he's lived on Earth, especially since the food and water bills he paid amounted to almost nothing, and it was more than enough to pay for any legal fees to get the man arrested and evicted. June was of course still very shaken up from the whole ordeal, but Smokescreen doesn't hesitate to let her know she's welcome for as long as she'd like

and then June just kinda...... never ends up moving out. The trial kept her on edge and busy, then she had to get caught up on all the schooling she missed, then Jack was born, and while she always intended to move back it just...... never happened. And it wasn't like this was a bad thing, Smokescreen's home was more enough for the three of them, and neither minded being roommates. It was...... honestly comforting, having someone there

but Smokescreen knows he's running out of time. That he's only going to be able to realistically be around for so long before his age will start to draw attention, and as much as it kills him to abandon June and Jack he doesn't know what to do

so he stats planning for his next life, more than he has for every previous one combined, and for the first time, he decided to tie these two lives together

before, he always avoided any relations at all. It could become suspicious and lead to people poking their noses where they don't belong and asking questions he wasn't prepared to deal with. But….. he couldn't stand the thought of being forced to watch June and Jack from the sidelines. Of them not knowing him in his next life

it had been a few years since everything had gone down when Smokescreen finally puts his plan into action. The plan had been to tell June he needed to take care of some “Family Business” he’d thought was taken care of before his time ran out. That he wasn’t sure if he’d be back, he could feel that he was running out of time, but that no matter what he loved June and Jack

Jack was 7 years old when he said goodbye, and that memory would be burnt into his brain for the rest of his life. How Jack clung to his pant leg asking him not to go, how June's eyes got so big and shiny and how her hands would shake. It tore his spark to pieces to see them like that, and it just convinced him further

he left almost everything he had to the two of them. Aside from a small box of his most personal and important things, he left everything else to June in his “will,” including the house and all his money, which she at first tried to reject but Smokescreen was stubborn and insisted

And then he gets in his car with a tank full of gas and drives far off into the desert

it takes 3 weeks before he comes back, and it was the longest 3 weeks of his life. He wanted to rush back, wanted to be with June and Jack again and he was worrying himself sick over what could be happening to them, but he forced himself to wait

In his 6th life, Smokescreen is the most honest with himself he’d ever been since his 1st life. His holoform is what he thinks is comfortable and he makes himself as young as he can get away with (a newly 15 year old) because he wants as much time as possible with the two. His personality is who he truly is without any politeness or experimentation because above everything he wants to be as open and honest as he can with these two. He starts thinking of ways to describe his life, his Cybertronian life, in a way that would fit as a human because he wants them to know him, not a puppet he created

When he shows up in Jasper things…… go as he expected. Driving up in his “old” car definitely got some whispers and June’s suspicion was almost painful, but well within everything he planned. Smokescreen was ready to play the long game for this, anything it took to be a part of their lives again

he claims to be his previous life's great-nephew. That one of his grandparents and his old life used to be siblings, but had a falling out leading to his old life moving to Jasper and cutting all contact. A few weeks ago, Smokescreen had reached out to his "great-uncle" since things with his own parents weren't....... going super great and his grand-uncle was really the only family he felt would be sympathetic. However he over estimated just how much his grand uncle was willing to do for someone he didn't even really know, leading to him recommending Jasper as a place to stay and driving all the way to where he lived to give him his car

he also mentions that his grand uncle had talked about June a lot in the days before he died, and he could tell he really loved her (not in a romantic way). He'd already said his "last goodbyes" weeks ago, and while he did make sure they knew how much he cared...... he still feels like he hadn't said enough

after things slightly calm down after that, Smokescreen then gets ready to leave. After all, he's still technically a stranger to them and he's already accomplished his goal of making contact....... but then June insists he stay the night. After all, he's a 15 year old and she can't in good faith let him sleep in his car when she has a perfectly good bed available

reluctantly he accepts, but makes it clear he's going to make plans to move elsewhere. After all, this is June's home now and he doesn't want to intrude

.......but just like when he first took June in, his moving out never happens. He ends up being enrolled in school, babysits Jack when June's shifts run longer, help prepare food and before he knows it, they've become a family once again

a few years later when June asks if he'd like her to adopt him he nearly cries

from here, my thoughts are a bit more scattered. I have a couple misc ideas which I'm not fully sure how to go about but want to include somehow:

after he graduates this time, Smokescreen ends up working at the library for both a change of pace and some nostalgia, and he's really good at it

when Smokescreen left his 5th life, he gave Jack a little pendant he'd made some years back with Alpha Trion's symbol on it. Sort of a way to remember him by, and Jack rarely takes it off. It's eventually noticed by the Bots which sparks a bit of curiosity about Jack's older brother

Smokey is just as much in the dark about the Autobots as June is, however he'd had suspicions for it longer. Not specifically Cybertronian Interference, but defiantly that there was something going on

during the whole MECH Thing, Smokey ends up getting kidnapped in the house. However, things don't go as planned because Smokey isn't at all limited by normal human limitations. Initially they tried drugging him and knocking him out, but he only goes down when they hit him with a high powered taser which ends up REALLY fucking with his holoform which unfortunately gets their attention

the Autobot Base is thankfully just within Smokescreen's range, and he looses his SHIT. Unfortunately they can't free him just yet on account of the whole ass town on top of him, but the fact multiple someones know he's down there...... yeah he starts crying a bit

during the S2 finale, Smokescreen ends up being the one to stay behind in the base since..... well, he couldn't leave anyways. Might as well make sure everyone else can escape

#did I fuck with human timelines? maybe a bit but that's just because I didn't feel like looking things up-#first thoughts #initial resident #transformers #transformers prime #tfp #tfp smokescreen #smokescreen #tfp june #june darby #tfp jack #jack darby #autobots #kd answers #anon

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arcplaysgames · 1 year

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hey so i noticed this guy in the intro sequence and are you telling me Chaz is getting a fucking persona because that's fucking dope, his outfit looks so silly, is that FRINGE i see???? amazing

ANYWAY we're trying to get out of this Palace and protect our new chobit when

CHOBIT GOT A FUCKING PERSONA?

Actually the game..... is unsure???????? lmao It has no idea what the fuck this is and all of the skills have a little ? after them which is VERY funny.

I DO know that a Pithos is a term for the old earthenware pots that the old Greeks used. It is also related to the myth of Pandora and is the actual vessel she carried around, which we tend to mistranslate to "box."

I know this because there is a Linux client for the Pandora radio service called Pithos that I used ages ago.

I am very interested in the possibility of Sophia being associated with Pandora, but also just her name is interesting. P5 Vanilla had a lot of Gnostic shit going on, and in Gnosticism, Sophia was.... gdi was she associated with Abraxas or Yaldaboath? I'm not looking it up, the POINT IS that Sophia is definitely a name from that whole mythos.

oh fuck she was literally found in a box, PANDORA'S box, oh for god's sake. Persona!!!!! lmao.

You're doing great, Sophia.

I MANAGED TO GRAB A CAP OF REVERIE POLE DANCING, YOU ARE WELCOME.

Reverie's life path should either be a social worker or a housespouse who moonlights as a burlesque dancer. Those are the ONLY two options. I lean towards the latter because I want Reverie to be a trophy wife and spend all of Akechi's his husband's money on outrageous outfits.

SOPHIA IS GREAT. The way her VA goes from this not-quite-but-almost monotone cadence to these verbal SFX moments is DELIGHTFUL.

Anyway, she finds a portal out of the Palace and doesn't actually want to leave the Metaverse?

Ryuji, if she dies the moment we leave the Metaverse, I will kill you, dude.

BUT NO ITS EVEN BETTER

SHE IS IN THE PHONE

so canonically Futaba has hacked Reverie's phone and can monitor him that way. then there was the Metanav malware shit. now we got the EMMA adware nightmare. and now Sophia is in there too.

Reverie, what the fuck is wrong with your phone, bro?

oh god she's not even an app she's fucking Bonzai Buddy, i'm dying. this game is great so far. zero notes.

IMPORTANT THING TO NOTE THOUGH

it's not a palace, it's a jail.

That......... is interesting. Those are practically opposite concepts, honestly, palace vs jail. I wonder if instead of the situation in P5 where the cognitive world bent around the distorted desires of the ruler based on their real life issues, a jail might be an inversion. What if you have the call of the void intrusive thought kinda shit which is fairly harmless and then something happens that traps you in a cage of those desires? Morgana mentions that he's getting faint hints of Treasure in there but not actually detecting A Legit Treasure, so what if something else is going on here?

ANYWAY that's pure conjecture and the game might just being calling palaces by a new name.

i have missed you yusuke kitagawa, welcome back.

ALSO I GOTTA SAY. Ryuji's VA is doing so much fucking work, it's so nice. Like, all my issues with the clunky writing of P5 Vanilla are gone, this feels much closer to the naturalistic style of P4G (though it hasn't quite hit that apex yet, tbh, but we're early on).

I like that Morgana already feels a kinship with Sophia based on their similar experiences not knowing what they are and where they came from.

If Sophia winds up being, like, Igor's version of Duolingo, I will laugh.

Back to the point: We gotta figure out what the fuck is up with Alice, so vacation plans are on hold.

someone please feed Yusuke, i don't know if he's eaten since Reverie left Tokyo.

morgana i don't know if you realize but you are basically going to be sophia's mentor. you must advise her how to be a good companion and friend, which includes having the best jokes, being a great teacher, how to fit in a carryone, and purring. i believe in you, morgana.

I THINK I LIKE PERSONA 5 STRIKERS, FOLKS

i want to fluff her too, she looks so COZY in that thing. I understand where Ann is coming from. Just give her a hug and rubrubrub those arms. uwu

#p5s #persona liveblog

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tteokdoroki · 3 years

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dick destroyer december | i. midoriya

♡ pairing: izuku midoriya x fem!reader.

♡ word count: 6.2K

♡ rating: mature, 18+, mdni.

♡ genre: college!au, fluff + smut.

♡ summary: with no nut november over, finals complete and christmas right around the corner, your number one boy returns to you with only one thing on his mind.

♡ warning(s): please read ! heavy smut, pwp ( characters aged up to twenties ), drinking, mentions of alcohol, mentions of poly!kiribaku, unprotected sex ( wrap it before you tap it y’all ) wall sex, fingering ( female recieving ), light!pet play, spitting, cum play, mentions of sex toys, exhibitionism, oral sex ( male + female recieving ), light!praise, heavy!breeding kink.

♡ author’s note(s): merry christmas everyone! i hope despite the circumstances that you’re all able to enjoy the holidays and are staying safe, if you’re not celebrating i wish you a wonderful day as well!! anyways here’s a little festive fic to satisfy you guys and tysm for 2K+ followers <33 find the corresponding kiribaku fic here!

♡ masterlist | requests

ever since you’d started college, your roomate, katsuki had always said that november was his favourite month of the year; it took you a while to figure out why.

having known the blonde since you were a child, you were aware that he despised the cold weather that nipped at his nose and made his quirk slow down. he hated wearing extra sweaters and begrudgingly asking your mother to make him some hot chocolate whenever he came over to play; in fact he hated asking you for it now as adults in your early twenties but as his good college roommate from freshmen year, you made sure he always had a mug waiting. nonetheless, katsuki’s sudden love for the winter months and festive weeks following honestly confused you to your wits end— especially with the impending doom of finals sneaking up on you.

however, you quickly found out the reason behind your best friend’s change in attitude towards the month of november, six months into your freshman year relationship with izuku midoriya.

“no nut november,” katsuki had purred into the neck of his beer bottle, rolling the cool glass against his bottom lip as he laughed at you from across the room. you had recalled the conversation to have occurred exactly half way through october, before the aforementioned month, you and your roommate had decided to host a small gathering with your classmates— purely fulled by thirty boxes of pepperoni pizza and beer, only two of the boxes had been vegetarian for your friends mina ashido and denki kaminari ( he was challenged by mina to go green for an entire month. “that’s why i love this month s’fuckin’ much.”

bakugou ended his sentence with a swig of his beer, setting the now empty bottle onto the coffee table that had been a house warming gift from his own mom. the sound causes todoroki and sero to jump from their place playing cards against humanity with your girl friend momo on the floor, and kirishima ( bakugou’s crush at the time, who’s drunk and passed out in the blonde’s lap ) to flinch awake. katuski pets his red hair once, making kirishima blink up at him affectionally.

your boyfriend, izuku, fidgets under the intimating stare of your roomie and you can tell he’s fighting the blush that spreads rapidly across his freckled cheeks. “n-no nut november?” your baby squeaks out, large palm settling on your lower waist as you shuffle to get comfortable in his lap. it’s clear he hasn’t taken part before, so you know exactly what your best friend is doing. trying to tease him in front of all your friends and pull him into something that you’re going to hate. nonetheless, deku downs the rest of his own alcoholic drink as bakugou prepares a response— the rest of your friendship group now pulled into the conversation.

“katsuki bakugou, don’t be mean.” you scold with a bite into your grease laced pizza and offer up the rest to izuku, who politely passes. you pout.

“‘m not, just sayin’— that damn month will be the only time of the year that i don’t get to hear you and the goddamn nerd fuckin’ like rabbits all the time.”

this time, its you who fights an embarrassed look on your face while your green haired lover simply swipes todoroki’s shot from the coffee table and swallows it all at once. the dual haired boy only groans before rising to get another from the kitchen and the rest of your friends hide their giggles in their own drinks, cards and half eaten pizza slices. “you…you can hear us?” you squeal incredulously, causing your friends to snort out loud again. izuku still says nothing.

“baby, we damn near almost see you whenever we drop by!” kirishima mumbles with sleep curling in his tone, he stretches like a cat on bakugou’s lap and grins at you— sharpened teeth dazzling under the LED lights in your living room. they flicker to a deep green, but you barely notice it.

abandoning your pizza as a whole, you huff and push up the sleeves of izuku’s hoodie that you wear— just about ready to pummel your best friend into the ground for having people over while you…ahem…get some, but shoto returns from the kitchen quicker than you anticipate and cuts right through the chatter with ease, giving you little time to feel flustered by the sudden turn in conversation. “you guys are more sexually active than my parents and they had four kids, messed up with raising us from touya, though,” he says in his iconic monotonous voice, causing you to splutter and katsuki to kick his feet out in victory. “seriously, i doubt midoriya would be able to beat any of us at this no nut november thing ‘cause of it.”

this time, deku ( as so affectionally nicknamed by your childhood best friend ), pouts, his frustrated voice bleeding into the conversation. “c’mon, don’t you have a little faith in me, shoto?”

“no.” is todoroki’s simple answer. you flinch, did you guys really have sex that often? to the point where no one believed your boyfriend could go a month without getting his dick wet?

“i second that,” kaminari pipes in, picking a mushroom off of his pizza and leaning over to plop it into sero’s mouth.

“third it!” the latter adds.

your roomie takes that and runs with it. “he wouldn’t last a day even if he tried.”

“leave it alone, katsuki.” you find the courage to defend yourself through your flustered state without realising the buzz of beer and vodka shooting through zuku’s veins.

it takes quite a bit to get your boyfriend drunk, he was a big boy after all and played for your college football team but once the drink was through his system he often broke out of his shy demeanour and into one of confidence and challenging your beloved best friend. izuku’s grip on your waist tightens as he leans forward to point accusingly at the blonde before speaking. “wanna fucking bet on it, kacchan?” he says with sparkling emerald eyes and a honeyed voice that makes you twitch in place in his lap. of course you would get horny right in the middle of your two best boys having a drunk argument.

“what’chu say nerd?” bakugou slurs, pushing poor kirishima off of his lap and to the floor in order to stand up and cross the room towards your boyfriend, pointing a finger in his face.

izuku pushes the digit away, smirking up at the blonde drunkenly and everyone’s gaze in the room suddenly falls on them. “i bet that i can last longer in no nut november than you.”

you whimper from your lover’s lap, knowing that as soon as everyone clears out you’re going to pounce on him before this stupid bet takes place. this doesn’t go unnoticed by the girls, momo and mina, who tease you for having such a high libido but you don’t think they’ll understand how much you’re going to suffer without your broccoli haired boyfriend’s dick every other night.

you love izuku and katsuki, you really do— but its times like this, for the sake of your sex drive and love life, that you really wish they’d got along more. maybe it was their little battle for your affection that caused the rift between the two, after all katsuki had been the only boy in your life up until college and izuku, you were pretty sure was the one you wanted to spend the rest of your life with…either way, their rivalry was getting in your way and was about to be a major cockblock for the next thirty days. “hold up you guys, don’t i get a say in this?” your voice comes out in a slight whine as you tug on midoriya’s fitted shirt, but he’s too busy having a stare off with your roommate to notice. “what about me and my needs?”

“it’s not about’cha, shitty girl.”

“stay out of this, yn.”

you huff, pushing yourself off of your boyfriend izuku’s lap to stand and smack the pair of losers upside their heads before joining your girls on the floor. mina pulls you into a comforting hug, trying to distract your mind from the fact that it’ll be deku dick-less for a month while momo serves you out a set of cards to join her in a game of cards against humanity with the other boys lounging on the floor— kirihsima is invited into the game too. “sounds like i’ll be getting you a dildo as an early christmas present!” ashido comments, swiping her deck off of your hand me down rug before anyone can see them.

momo grins at you while you take your cards and take another shot from poor, unsuspecting shoto. “better make it extra thick, we know he’s got a nice one on him, yn.”

“fuck you guys.”

“gladly, we’re not taking part of no nut november like those two idiots.” the black haired girl hums, shuffling in her seat to start the next round. you roll your eyes and turn your gaze to watch the green and blonde haired boys you adore so much fight over this trivial guys only event.

their cheeks are flushed from all the beer they’ve drunk and they’re leaning on each other for support, but that doesn’t stop them from going at each other. “you couldn’t beat me, even if you tried, shitty deku.” katsuki mumbles, arm around midoriya’s head— forcing the poor boy into bakugou’s large pecs. “haha...shitku…”

“oh try me, bitch.” your boyfriend counters, voice so husky it sends shivers down your spine, although it contrasts deeply with the sight of his adorable cheeks pressed against katsuki’s tits.

they’re too drunk to brawl it out and quite frankly you’re too tired to bother to stop them, mind only wondering how you plan to survive the next thirty days.

three years, three novembers and a few weeks into december later; you’re still wondering how the hell you’ve survived.

ever since that night in your freshman year; izuku, bakugou and the other boys have competed vigorously to last throughout the entirety of no nut november; your boyfriend having won the last three years in a row. katsuki hated it, losing to your izuku but he hated the victory sex you gave him even more.

you’d think he’d be used to it by now, with everyone in their final year of college but bakugou had manage to luck out this year on not hearing you and midoriya go round after round on november thirtieth. finals had hit you guys hard in terms of wrapping up the semester before christmas; they were important to pass too, considering you’d all be graduating within a few months, so you’d barely seen izuku since november ended and december rolled around.

now, being a couple weeks into the festive month and with finals drawing to a close— you had yet to make plans to see your boyfriend. there was little time between the online classes and preparation from the holidays, yet you could feel yourself growing more sexually frustrated by the second. rubbing one out wasn’t doing it for you anymore and listening katsuki’s bragging about his peaceful nights of sleep while you decorated your apartment with mistletoe and tinsel was really starting to tick you off.

the very decoration slips from between your fingers as bakugou walks in, yanking bits of tape from his fingers from where you had him lining the ceiling rails with gold, green and red tinsel. the blonde had only gone and slammed the door to your living room against the wall, grumbling about the stupid mess of clear tape across his clumsy fingers— the action scaring you half to death before you huff, facing him. “what, katsuki? what could you possibly need right now?”

his vermillion gaze picks up from his smoking palms, a last resort to getting rid of the tape. “came to tell ya that ‘m headin’ out with kirishima— going to pick up our girlfriend from the airport.” a sweet blush lays loosely against your best friend’s cheeks at his admission, not long after you guys’ drunken night in freshman year, bakugou had confessed to your red headed companion; only to find out he had a girlfriend waiting for him in his hometown.

kirishima wasn’t a cheater, but he also couldn’t help the flutter in his heart around bakugou— so had the two meet straight away and after a lot of tears and large dramatics, the three settled into a cute little relationship. you’d only met the girl once when she visited both boys for spring break— but you’d loved her and knew how much she made your best friend happy.

you smile nonetheless, picking the mistletoe up from the floor. “tell her i said hi, yeah?” you mention to your friend while he shrugs on a jacket and checks himself in the mirror. katsuki was in love, and it was insanely adorable to see. “do i need to set up the guest bedroom for her ’n kiri?”

“nah, shitty red head kicked out kami, he’s staying with sero and mina while my girl’s up.” katsuki shakes his head, letting you fix the collar of his jacket after you bound over to him. “we’ll be back after lunch to pick up some of my stuff though. so don’t do anything fuckin’ stupid and i’ll see you later, yeah?”

you cross a finger over your heart but the mischievous smile on your face gives you away. “no promises katsu, stay safe out there!”

your smile drops however, as soon as your roommate closes the door behind him, knowing him and kirishima, they’ll probably fuck their girl across all the surfaces in eijirou’s free apartment, which only makes your stomach churn with hot jealously and a hint of arousal.

selfish of you as it were, you wish your boyfriend hadn’t chosen such an intense subject with so many finals and intense studying— but izuku loved engineering almost as much as he loved you, so its not like you would ask him to give up his passion.

besides, you figured he’d look pretty hot in his mechanics classes—sleeves rolled up to his elbows, scared hands on display while sweat drips down his furrowed brow and—

and fuck me, now you were as horny as a mother fucker.

a familiar ache appears between your thighs while you attempt to busy yourself with the rest of the festive decorations; you hang a wreathe at the door both inside and out, tape the remaining tinsel around counters in your kitchen and finally attempt to fix the christmas tree katsuki insisted wasn’t lopsided ( even though it was ). but no matter how hard you worked om christmas-ing the apartment, you couldn’t shake the fantasy of midoriya railing you against his work bench. it wouldn’t go away.

patting your cheeks to calm your hot flush; you decide that you’re done bedazzling and fix some christmas lights above your doorways to go with your LED ones, and get ready to take a cold shower and hoping that the wetness between your legs will go away. you make a b-line for the bathroom, not bothering to bring a spare change of clothes since katsuki isn’t home. it’s not like he hasn’t seen you naked before.

you’re half way through your commute, wearing nothing but one of zuku’s old shirts when the front door jingles and busts open from the other side of your home. foot steps pound against your hardwood floor, letting you know someone is approaching.

“fucking hell katsuki, stop slamming the door against the wall before you make another—“ your words die in the back of your throat when your sweet little boyfriend comes into view. albeit a bit dishevelled, deku’s green hair falls prettily over his excited eyes while sweat rolls in tiny droplets from his forehead to his chin and his backpack hanging half off of his shoulder…in all honesty he looks a mess, but a good looking one at that. “zuku? what are you doing here?”

your lover looks bewildered, but a smile that fills you with warmth crosses his face. “i ran across campus to see you; i finished my finals…” he pants, the engineering building is pretty far from here so no wonder he looks the way he does.

despite knowing this, you quirk a brow. “still doesn’t answer my question babe.”

“november is over,” izuku sighs, dropping his backpack and crossing the room towards you in three short strides. When he reaches you, scarred hands curl around your waist while soft lips tickle the shell of your ear with deku’s next words. “it’s christmas…don’t make me wait. i want to fuck you.”

you don’t miss the way bight green eyes darken and drag up your hand naked body, your boyfriend’s shirt ending just above your knees and exposing the meat of your thighs to him. the wetness pools between them, making your skin glisten under familiar flashing LED lights and tinsel. izuku is waiting for a. sign...anything for you to give him consent to take his prize between your legs, electricity crackles in the air and you instinctively reach up to curl your fingers in his curls. “fuck me, izuku.” you say breathlessly, unleashing a month and a half’s worth of hormones out onto each other. “fuck me like you mean it, big boy.”

the teasing lilt to your voice earns you a spank to the ass as deku lifts you up into his arms and over his muscular shoulder. you squeal in delight at the harsh sting, leaning down to pat his ass too. he’s got a particularly nice one and you’re sure it was carved by the fucking gods.

the green haired boy hauls you over to the kitchen counter, setting you down atop it before his lips find yours in passionate and hurried movements. its been so long since you’ve kissed him, felt his muscles ripple under your touch while your hand roams his chest underneath the varsity jacket he wears.

you push the offending material off while izuku trails a hand between your thighs, chuckling into the kiss at the slick that adds a glimmer to your skin. his pink tongue darts out to lick a stripe across your bottom lip, begging for permission to enter your hot mouth. you grant him access, swirling your own pink muscle around is and suck it down. your breath hitches as thick fingers finally come into contact with the burn of your heat, gently prodding at your puffy, sticky clit. “you’re…doll, you’re so fucking wet already. did you miss me?” your boy moans breathlessly in between your sloppy kisses, pulling away to show you the string of your slick that coats his fingers. you nod in agreement.

izuku taps your lips once and you obediently take the digits into your mouth, humming at your sweetness that invades your tongue, all the while, his other wandering hand shoves two digits into your wet cunt with no warning— making you shiver on the counter while the tinsel you’d taped there scratches at your calves. both sets of fingers thrust into your openings at the same time, giving you a friction you so awfully desire.

“such a good girl, dollface— fuck, i f-forgot how good you looked sucking on my fingers like that.” midoriya whines out and you’re not sure which of your holes he’s referring to, but you couldn’t care less, not when those that stuff your tight pussy are curling against the walls in a way that has you leaking sweet nectar all over your marble surfaces. you gush at his praise however, bucking your hips into his hand while the heel of his palm grinds into your swollen clit— sending shockwaves through your body.

the fingers that plug your mouth are pulled out so the darling sounds of your moans mingle with that of your dripping heat, walls clenching around izuku every once on a while. your lover grinds against the table, watching you with close eyes as your face contorts into expressions that he’s missed so dearly. one thrust into your spongy g-spot makes your body jump and thighs close around your boyfriend’s hand— head falling forward against his shoulder. “mnn, zuzu... haven’t felt this good in s’long, gonna cum, gonna mess up your hand.”

to your dismay, deku pulls from your cunt faster than you would have liked and you whine at the empty feeling in your stretched out hole. your heat makes an awful dripping sound when you’re fully empty, and you grunt knowing that its a mess you’ll have to clean up later.

however, you’re easily distracted by the lips at your collar bones, painting bruises into your sweat licked skin while slick hands paw at your breasts. “cum on my face first, please?” its cute how desperate izuku is, but you can’t say that you aren’t either— especially when you haven’t fucked in so long.

“yes, god yes…” you accept too quickly while your shirt is pulled off completely; for midoriya’s mouth as moved from pressing hot kisses to your neck onto biting at your breast and rolling the hardened nipple of your other with his free hand. “but, wanna suck you off too ‘zuku…”

your boyfriend doesn’t hesitate with his next movements, kicking off his pants and boxers ( in one go, mind you ) before picking you up once again and sinking to the floor with you in his arms. he makes quick work of flipping you onto your tummy, pulsing cunny shoved so close into his face that you can feel deku’s nose bump your clit when he breathes and then; your face rests so easily on the swell of his thigh— right next to his hardened cock that you’ve missed so much.

izuku midoriya is a god and you swear by it.

your friend’s were right, he is packing. he’s thick and girthy, tip angry and red as it leaks heavily with a clear precum that has you drooling. “missed your dick, zu,“ you sigh, mostly to yourself and before you know it, your lips enclose around the head of his cock.

the way you suck on it, as if you’ve been starved of your last meal makes izuku shiver with pleasure and his nails dig into your peachy ass. you roll his balls between your fingers, loving the delicious whimpers you manage to lure from between your boy’s lips and the sound makes your pussy spasm around nothing.

a weighted palm moves to the back of your head in order to push you further down on his cock, deku’s own hips bucking up so you swallow more of him down. the taste of him is dangerously addictive, saltiness dancing across your tongue. “suck my dick sweetheart, yeah? suck on it just like that, good girl.” the hot breath from each of his choked laments brushes against your eager cunt, dampening your skin even more. he dives right in, tongue slithering between your puffy folds while he slurps at you with at insatiable place.

izuku craves to make you feel nothing but ecstasy, working his pink muscle hard against your walls that clamp down on his tongue while yours runs laps between the dribbling tip of his iron hot length. inhaling sharply, you force yourself to take more of deku down your throat, listening out for the tears that sting in his emerald eyes wen you swallow around him. You hum with sweet victory when his breathing stutters and hips jump up with excitement.

you’re both close, sensitive from the time you’ve spent away from one another, but neither of you can find it in yourselves to care. the room rises with temperature at every step you take towards orgasm, deku taking your cheeks in large, calloused palms and spreading you apart to spit directly into your hole. you swear on your life you’d never known pleasure until you’d met izuku, as no matter how much time you’d been apart, he still knew all the little tips and tricks to get you going. where to hold you, how to touch you, what to say. he was always so focused on making you feel good.

your head bobs up and down with an inconsistent pace, each time, your tongue mapping out the veins on his girth that you’d come to know so well, hand’s fisting at balls and the rest of his cock that you can’t reach.

“i’m gonna…doll—puppy, i’m gonna cream in that mouth of yours… please,” a strangled cry. “i-is that okay?”

you tap his thigh once, your own little signal to let your boyfriend know it’s okay before continuing your work— letting drool pool in your mouth before spewing it onto his cock. deku pulls his tongue from inside of you, flicking it rapidly at your clit to bring you closer and closer to the edge, not wanting to cum without you. and he doesn’t, the cord that’s built up in your stomach finally snapping.

white flashes behind your eyes as you gush all over izuku’s face, drenching his freckled cheeks and painting his innocence with a layer of your honeyed sin. Your lover follows shortly after, filling your mouth to the brim with a heavy load that tastes of him and only him. a taste that you could fall in love with every single day. “baby,” you giggle after letting go of his cock with a satisfying ‘pop’, heat spreading beneath your skin as you take note of the slight shine to the green haired student’s face. “think you made me squirt!”

“guess i did! you’re always so cute when you squirt for me, yn,” and like the messy boy he is, midoriya wipes his mouth on the back of his hand ( always a poor eater, couldn’t keep his meal in one peace ) before peeking at you from over your quivering and arched back. izuku smiles proudly at his handy-work of your messy cunt, radiating a billion rays of sunshine and your heart clenches in your chest. you hate how cute he looks when you’re in such a lewd and compromising position, like he hadn’t just fucked you dumb under the mistletoe. “should’ve been on my dick ’n not m-my tongue though...”

“i wouldn’t be opposed to another round, if you aren’t.”

“like hell i could say no to being inside you after a whole month of waiting, doll.”

you roll your eyes, but wiggle your hips back into your boyfriend’s face nonetheless. “then dick me down deku, destroy me.”

with your boyfriend’s help, you manage to crawl off of his lap and wait patiently on your knees as he stands. izuku beams down at you, a hundred and one words of love written in his eyes that glow warmly under christmas lights before he pets your head and reaches for your hands to help you stand on shaky legs.

the first kiss you share after this is gentle and sweet, even while your tangled fingers are set free and deku’s large hands are once again on your waist, rubbing small circles into the skin of your hips as he backs you into the nearest wall. you simper at the taste of yourself on his tongue and allow him to hoist you up by the backs of your thighs— locking your ankles at the centre of his back and just above bis bum— all the while keeping you pressed against the wall.

the outline of izuku’s length presses hotly against your weeping slit, his lips still slotted against yours in a slow liplock while his tip smears the remains of his seed across your clit and between your folds. you feel your boyfriend’s arms quiver around you as he slowly begins to sheath himself within your spamming pussy— jolting away from his lips, your mouth falls open in a weak moan and the green eyed boy quickly follows you, copying the movement of your lips as his sweaty forehead meets your own and your gazes align sweetly. “doll…” he mumbles brokenly, letting you adjust to the push of his cock against your walls. “been so long since i felt you like this…”

your fingertips reach out and graze his shoulders, hot breath fanning out between your bodies as izuku’s cock reaches the hilt inside of you. he stills. “move baby, can’t wait anymore— “

izuku midoriya doesn’t need to be told twice when it comes to fucking you; finally making the move to bottom out inside of your pussy. heat blossoms in your heart and your glistening mound as your lover gently rolls his hips against yours and the way he feels reminds you that your mind, body and soul belong to him and him only.

although you are finally together, moving as one against the wall in your shitty college apartment, you crave for izuku to fill you to the brim and reach up to tug at mossy locks in order to bring him impossibly closer.

you don’t dare close your eyes as deku sets the pace, not even as your gaze on him flutters, you want the image of his blushed and blissed out face imprinted to into the back of your mind forever, you want the sounds of struggled whimpers and skin slapping against skin to become the tune of your memories. you want your senses to be filled with him always and forever as make love against tinselled ceiling rails and mistletoe above your heads. all you can think is more, more, more. more of him, more of izuku.

“focus on me, puppy,” izuku reminds you, grinding his pelvis against you every time his hips canter into you. his cock grazes the entrance of your womb, leaking into you like a cocktail of your arousals. but the neediness behind his words makes you blink away the glassiness in your eyes, locking your arms and legs around him tighter and grinding your hips down to meet the drive of his cock into your spongy g-spot. “your cute lil hole’s still so tight, nice ’n moulded into the shape of my cock— made to take me, right?” your boy babbles, tripping over his sentences through the saliva on his tongue.

the feeling has you stirring against your boyfriend’s length, his now rapid pace sending your teary eyes rolling and you mewling. “made for you ’n only you ‘zu, please don’ stop…” is all you can say, mind breaking as midoriya’s hands drop between your joined bodies to draw lazy shapes into your puffy nub, the movements silky due to the mild mix of juices coating your sexes.

each thrust from your lover sends you a little bit up the wall, head of his cock catching tastefully along the ridges of your velvety walls— the way your pussy feels inside drives izuku to the brink of insanity, you’ve always been able to take him so well and he missed the way your cute face curled into expressions of desire all for him. you’re so pretty, so intoxicating and he’s so happy to have you back in his arms.

“s-such a good girl for me, yn…fucking hell puppy,” izuku punctuates each of his toe curling thrusts with stuttered cries of your name, angling his hips upwards to hit your g-spot over and over. everything feels so sloppy, tainted with signs of your love but as the knot in your stomach begins to unravel, you couldn’t care less. “gonna make you mine, gonna fill you up and make you my fucking puppy.”

“’m already yours, always will be zuku,” you manage to speak, clenching down on him and letting out an almost pornographic moan as deku drills into you with the last of his strength.

he nods against your foreheads that remain pressed together, staring at you with adoration written across his seafood eyes. “love you, doll…love you s’much, you did so well baby…cum for me now…” izuku mumbles out, hissing slightly as your grip on his hair tightens to yank him down for one final searing kiss.

tears of heavenly pleasure roll down your cheeks as he swallows your final moan, his words pushing you right over the edge and into an earth shattering orgasm. “c-cumming!” you squeal so loud that you’re sure the neighbours can hear, while you lose control and pulse around midoriya’s scalding cock. the world of colour flashes behind your eyes— release splattering out against your boyfriend’s pelvis and the floor. “mnnn, izuku! i love you, please…”

you’re begging now, your sloppy pussy coaxing him along to his own release while deku relentlessly fucks into you. his chest rumbles with every one of his whimpers and groans, cock pushing you into overstimulation while he snaps his hips into you.

“ohh i love you…gonna cum, gonna cum— fuck, puppy—!” he sobs pathetically, dropping his head to your neck as his teeth clamp down on your bare skin to silence himsel. your tired body is forced up the wall while izuku tumbles into his own orgasm, sweltering seed splashing up inside your abused cunt. he slows to a grind, creaming inside you and painting your insides white as snow— panting with you until your breathing calms down.

the pair of you sink to the floor again, still in one another’s embrace as exhaustion sweeps over your limbs. before you know it, izuku is giggling sweetly against your lips, pressing grateful kisses along your neck and jaw while you fiddle with his baby hairs on the nape of his neck— still trying to catch your breath.

“t-that,” he sighs, nothing but love and adoration cushioning his gaze on you as you settle in his lap. you squirm at feeling so full, his cum dripping out of your fluttering hole but find yourself getting comfortable soon after. “that was so good, i missed you, yn, really.”

you cup the boy’s freckled cheeks and hum, heart swelling at his slight confession. “i missed you more zuku, all of you, not just your dick.” you clarify your words, making light of the mess you’ve made.

izuku rolls his eyes but leans into your gentle touch nonetheless, faking a pout in order to get a kiss on the lips. “glad to know that my girlfriend still loves me, even when she’s been deprived of my godly cock for a month and a half.”

“i’ll always love you.” you say, leaning in to give him a slight peck on the lips.

“as will i.”

you both tilt your heads to complete the vow with a simple kiss when a cough cuts through the love filled atmosphere, making you and izuku jump right out of your skin. Immediately, your gaze scopes out the room, only to land on your child hood best friend— accompanied by both his girlfriend and boyfriend. fuck, you completely forgot about that.

“are you two done now?” katsuki drawls, still tucked into his winter jacket, while krishima covers his girlfriend’s eyes with a free hand, the other occupied by her luggage from her flight. she still offers you an awkward smile and a wave.

“k-kacchan! haven’t you ever heard of knocking?” deku squeaks, wrapping his arms around you to pull you into his chest and at least protect some of your decency. it’s nothing bakugou nor kirishima haven’t sen before ( it’s not the first time you’ve been caught like this ) but you allow yourself to fall into izuku’s protective embrace anyways— heated embarrassment prickling underneath your skin.

your blonde roommate, however, is livid— staring you down with bloody eyes that speak tales of murder. “knock? knock? i fucking live here, you shitty nerd!” bakugou scolds, making you flinch and offer him a weak smile. eijirou by now has the decency to escort his girlfriend into his other partner’s room to gather some of his belongings, effectively leaving you and your boyfriend to face the wrath of your favourite angry pomeranian. the blonde turns to you. “and i thought i told you not to do anythin’ fuckin’ stupid while i was gone?”

“don’t yell at me! i didn’t know izuku was coming… literally and figuratively!” both boys groan at this, making you scowl. what? it was a good joke! “besides, i was just congratulating my boyfriend for winning no nut november, again. you should be used to it by now, suki.”

katuski looks between you both, annoyance sweeping his face before he pinches the bridge of his nose and huffs. “couldn’t you congratulate him somewhere else? somewhere, where i didn’t have to be blinded and traumatised for the rest of my shitty life.”

this time, it’s your boyfriend who speaks up, standing with you in his arms. deku smirks evilly, pointing to the little green plant above your heads. “no can do kacchan, it’s dick destroyer december and there was no better way to start it, than under the mistletoe.”

izuku turns swiftly on his heel and makes a dash towards your bedroom before your best friend can threaten to blow you up, presumably to fuck you in your bed for this next round.

“fuck you guys!” he curses you out, watching you go.

“we’re already on it, have a great christmas, katsuki!” you sing back, just a deku slams your door shut and drops you onto your bed— already crawling on top of you.

you’d have to thank katsuki someday for challenging izuku back in freshman year, because without his newfound love for november— you wouldn’t have discovered your guilty pleasure for dick destroyer december.

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prof-peach · 3 years

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if fans wanted to include peach in stuff they write, would that be okay? and how would they write peach's personality? aside from "FIGHT ME" anyway, i think that much is a given lol. i only really write the anime characters 'cause that's what i know, but it sounds like it'd be kinda fun to try making a version of ash that fits into this blog's universe! nerf'd Obviously, but i think she'd probably appreciate how hands-on he gets when training his pokemon!

Ok, I get a lot of these messages, and I often hear folks wanting to throw peach into their stories and comics and writings, and I will always simply ask that if it’s published online publicly, to be linked to it so I can snoop and enjoy the content too. If someone asks about her in your work, let them know about the blog I guess? But literally I love that people take this stuff, these characters and stories, and make new stuff with it. No ones making money off my work here? So where’s the issue? Go for it buddy, knock yourself out, I’m all for it.

For you, and all the others out there who want to add peach, and other characters to your world building, I will give you a detailed rundown of the main lot, and how they behave, what they do, how they function. You can use that, use bits, or use none of it, I do not mind at all. If you’re creating something, you’re in control, not me.

So, peach doesn’t actually fight people as much as you’d think. She’s very aware most cannot and do not want to do that, and so she likes to keep to herself with regards to that aspect of her life, she doesn’t ask to spar with people, or even bring it up at all, but people ask her all the time, even if they clearly would lose or become hurt should she miscalculate during the fight. She looks at people like they usually create problems, and often has a somewhat reserved nature to other humans. You have to work quite hard to get anything more than formalities out of her. She will dead-pan handle people with blunt and very to-the-point statements, aid whenever possible, but very quickly get back to handling the Pokemon she so carefully tends. Her focus is clear, she’s all about hard work, her very small select family, and the Pokemon.

Her brutal, loud and brash personality only comes out with friends, family, difficult humans, OR any Pokemon. She will joke and laugh and play with Pokemon, but clam up around humans, maintaining tight body language and generally will be a little cold by regular standards. She does however have some weaknesses in this emotionless shield she puts up. When peach was young she was always angry, which swung so fast to sadness, back and forth. Her teenage years it just got worse and worse, it was crippling at points. She is to this day, full of fire and rage, even sadness, but now she has learnt to control it, to use it. When she sees that in others, it’s familiar, and she is pushed to drop the front, and be very real with the person. Underdogs I suppose, people who get bad reps, but deserve the same as everyone else. She can’t ignore it.

Once you start to pry open her personality, you’ll find she’s a lot more laid back and fun than originally appeared, you just have to work hard to find that side of her. She will meme reference, can’t dance to save her life, loves her coffee, and can be caught in quiet contemplation while gardening. This hobby is her calmest, and often is why she can stay so level headed when her quiet rage boils up again. Without time outside she will become grouchy, a little snippy, and lethargic. Will not go in the ocean for any reason other than life or death, is fine with ponds and rivers, or water at wading height. Likes the rain.

With regards to her training others, they usually have to tolerate her somewhat strict nature. She is a little....unforgiving, holds a grudge if you make a lot of mistakes, and has no tolerance for ignorance in the age of information that we all live in. In previous posts I’ve mentioned she’s only recently selected two students, after many years of testing kids who want to learn from her. Hundred tried out, only two have ever been approved. How she teaches is very fast paced, be prepared to get some scrapes and bruises, she will test your physical and emotional tolerances with intense tasks, carefully watching students like a hawk. Bad posture in your stance? She’ll be the first to tell you to sort it out. Not hearing your Pokemon partner? Right, now you spend the day without using words trying to communicate, let’s see how you like not being listened to.

This is a woman who has spent her life saying very little, and watching everything, she watches Pokemon and can see an issue from a mile off, and in battles, her observations are why she can react fast, and chose effective strategy to avoid damage and achieve results. Don’t let her body fool you, her strongest asset is analysing, watching, planning. Those skills have over the years transferred to people too. As a student, mistakes don’t go unnoticed with this professor.

Her methods are harsh but fair, and should you prove yourself, she will protect you with her life.

Because of her disinterest in kids and lots of noise, she does pass the training of students on to the other staff members whenever possible. Grey takes on the lions share of battle lessons, he is far calmer, more open and friendly, with patience for people, and an empathy that peach sometimes struggles to have. When you go through a lot of harsh training, and difficult events, it’s hard to change how you feel or think, with peach, well, she’s been through it. Most do not come out the other end in one piece, but she did, and it made her strong. You may think I mean strong like buff and big, and yeah sure she is, but I mean it mentally more than anything. Peach will not quit. She has learnt to destroy the boundaries that stop people getting hurt, gone is the fear that freezes you in your tracks, that feeling that you’ll pass out if you go one more step. She’s learnt to ignore it.

This means she’s a little forgetful at how it is to be normal, to be vulnerable and soft and squishy like students so usually are.

She has her issues, but for the most part, visitors get a laugh, a smile, a calm assertive confidence, and facts. She will indulge those who have genuine interest, or show a connection with nature, an understanding of the balance that needs to be struck for everyone to live well together.

Despite her many flaws, she’s fiercely protective, and will go above and beyond to defend the island, it’s staff, the Pokemon and the visitors. Injustice is her biggest gripe, along with littering, and she doesn’t stand by quietly if something happens that seems unfair.

You will not see her without Valka, her vulpix, close by. That Pokemon doesn’t like to be touched by strangers, at all, and will run the second someone comes at her with that intent. Peach will scold you for pushing yourself onto her, should you persistently try to get close to pet Val. They are in sync, if peach is sad, Val is sad, if Val is stressed, peach is stressed, and so on. They are inherently connected, it’s just been that long, the psychic bridge between them has been built, and reinforced over the years.

The only other Pokemon who follows her so endlessly is Booker, a teddiursa who’s pretty rough looking. He quietly trots behind, grouchy and stoic, they fight closely together a lot. He lost his mom a long time ago to poachers, and peach took him in, and changed her whole life for him. Not many people know, but Booker was the reason she left the rangers, changed career, and got so strong. Will tolerate people petting him but isn’t keen at all, grumbles a lot and tries to move away.

You may also need to know about the others, for the sake of writing, she here a few more bits that may be important to you, or others wanting to do this.

Grey is very tall, very burly, composed, tells bad dad jokes, is a bit of a goof if allowed to be. If he sees a pun, he’ll say it. Can’t help himself. Very nice guy to work with, good at keeping people calm and grounded. Pokemon are drawn to him like a moth to a flame, he gives off warm energy, and has inhuman amounts of patience. If you wrong his family however, he will snap back.

He grew up in the city, loves to swim and hike and cycle, can snowboard, is really sporty. A total brain box with held items, and boosting stats. He will explore many paths, to make sure visitors and students get the information they need, in a way that can be remembered and retained for later. Is a huge guy, but will get on the floor to play with a tiny Pokemon. Treats big “meaner” looking species like babies, very good with all pokemon.

His free time is spent either tinkering, swimming, or trimming his bonsai trees. This guy stares at screens a lot, so appreciates time away from them. Peach built him his own little greenhouse for his trees and tools, which he keeps clean and loves dearly.

His methods as a teacher are built around fun and games, he makes hard work easier to do by distracting trainers from the difficult bits, and focusing in on something more interesting or compelling.

His most commonly seen Pokemon would be a houndoom, Saxon, old battle veteran, retired now to herding and being a good boy. Very gentle, loves a pet.

Pari, now a fully fledged nurse, often oversees the labs front desk and pokecentre features, such as healing pokemon, and informing trainers who come to visit. Her skills with eggs and hatchlings is high, she’s great with younger Pokemon, and hands out good advice to trainers a lot. She’s not a fighter, never was, but can find any file, any study, any book, and any refrence you may need. A true bookworm, loves her romance novels, chat shows and upbeat celebrity gossip mags. Will cry at a lot of stuff, be it sad or happy.

She’s got a seriously upbeat personality, but if caught off guard or shocked, she gets a little flustered. Too much chaos will overwhelm her, but usually she’s on top of things. The years spent on the island have made her better at maintaining composure in emergencies. With lots of siblings, she’s very competent with others, and has a good ability to disarm cagey people with her jolly nature. Because of this, she can sometimes gain information from trainers that some of the more harsh professors may not have access to. Charming is a word for it.

Her partners are an eevee, and a happiny. They are quite sweet and well adjusted, the eevee gets a bit bouncy if you get it too excited.

#if you dont want to use the refs #im really cool with it #just enjoy yourself buddy #pokemon #prof.peach #peach talks #prof.grey #pari #dotaku island #dotaku staff #PLEASE #just ask me if you dont know something #or feel i missed something in what i wrote

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gukyi · 4 years

Text

that’s the spirit! | myg

summary: min yoongi hates halloween. as his best friend and resident halloween-lover, that is simply unacceptable. but when halloween night rolls around and you and min yoongi feel farther apart than ever before, you discover that what’s come between you is more than just a bad trick, and that no matter what day it is, loving him is the sweetest treat of all.

{college!au, friends to lovers!au, halloween!au}

pairing: min yoongi x female reader genre: fluff, comedy, a little angst? (a little i promise) word count: 8k (woohoo! i did it!) warnings: alcohol consumption, underage drunkenness in flashbacks, misunderstandings, helpless but mutual pining, halloween parties, this is halloween during college, what else do you expect a/n: some scenes inspired by love, rosie, my absolute favorite rom-com! happy halloween, and i hope this brings some joy to your life before armageddon i mean election day rolls around! much love 🎃💜

Min Yoongi hates Halloween.

Which is ridiculous, because you assume that there must have been at least one time in his life where he liked it. Halloween is a universally-liked holiday. It was the one day of the year where he, an unbridled child rebelling against authority, got to dress up as his favorite book character, superhero, or movie star, hang out with his friends past sunset, and solicit strangers for free candy. Free candy! How could anyone hate that?

But the thing is, it doesn’t matter what Min Yoongi was like in his youth. Ever since you met him, he has hated Halloween. For reasons completely unbeknownst to you.

Unfortunately for Min Yoongi, just because he hates Halloween doesn’t mean that he gets to spend his October pretending that it doesn’t exist. Because, unlike him, you do not hate Halloween. In fact, you rather like it. So much so that Min Yoongi has to deal with the holiday no matter what. For better…

“Ah! What the fuck!”

Or for worse.

You pop your head out of your bedroom to find Yoongi about to throw down with the fake skeleton you’ve propped up by the door, one of those cheesy ones from Spirit Halloween that make a zombie sound whenever its artificial brain can sense someone near it. He’s got this wide-eyed look on his face, fists up in front of him like he’s going to beat the damn thing senseless, even though Min Yoongi is barely five-feet-ten and has a body that functions exclusively on iced coffee and could probably get taken down by the average third-grader.

Min Yoongi does not have a flight instinct. He only knows how to fight.

He’s muttering to himself by the time you emerge completely from your bedroom, grumbling about how he nearly wet himself at the sight of the thing, fingers glossing over the plastic bones as he inspects them. There he stands in the doorway of your apartment, curled-up fists tucked inside the too-long sleeves of his too-big hoodie, pink lips parted in innocent confusion as he blinks at your apartment’s new resident.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” You chide from where you stand in your room, watching as Yoongi jerks his head up. The sound of your voice seems to catch him off guard for a minute, eyes wide in shock before he realizes that it’s you and his whole body relaxes. “Was that you I just heard screaming outside my apartment, Min Yoongi?”

“No,” Yoongi deadpans, fully aware that the both of you know that it was him. “Must have been someone else.”

“Yes, of course, my mistake,” you tease, coming up behind him to rub his upper arm, the palm of your hand pressing against the worn fabric of his hoodie sleeve as he sighs. “You don’t have a problem with my festive decorations at all, do you?”

“Not those,” Yoongi frowns, pointing to the orange and black streamers hanging above your apartment window, to the mini pumpkins sitting in the center of your dinky kitchen table, to the construction paper cutouts of black cats decorating your walls. He rounds on the skeleton, propped up right next to the door with the sole purpose of scaring whatever visitors you have. “This, I have a problem with. What is this thing?”

You smile proudly. “Reginald.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Yoongi looks at you, positively flabbergasted. “You named it?”

You scoff. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I? I bought him, he’s mine now, and he needed a name. So I named him Reginald. What’s the issue here?” You weren’t about to buy a twenty-five dollar plastic skeleton, set him up to be your personal doorman, and not give him a name.

“The issue is that this—” he motions to Reginald’s face, “—is the first thing I see when I walk into your apartment, instead of—oh, I don’t know—you,” he says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Aw, I’m touched,” you say, pressing a hand to your heart. “Didn’t know you always wanted to see my face first thing when you come over.”

Yoongi’s gaze drifts down towards the floor, thumbs twiddling. “Well, yeah,” he mumbles, words barely audible. “Why else would I come over?”

“I don’t know, for the ambience, maybe?” You say with a shrug, watching him slide his backpack off of his shoulder and onto the floor by the couch. “Anyway, maybe if you had come with me to Spirit Halloween when I went shopping for decorations, you wouldn’t be so surprised.”

“I had two midterms that week! Two!” Yoongi reminds you.”

“I’m just saying,” you tell him, hands up defensively as you make your way to the kitchen, fishing out two teabags from the cabinet as you set the kettle to boil. You never used to like tea, but a year ago Yoongi convinced you to try this jasmine flower one from the Asian supermarket downtown and you haven’t looked back. Now there’s always at least three spare boxes in your kitchen cupboards, for you and for him. “No time is a bad time to get into the Halloween spirit.”

Yoongi sighs, loud and obvious, because this is the third year in a row you’ve brought up this conversation and it’s not any more convincing than it was the last two times. “Do we have to do this?”

“Yes.”

“Can’t we just pretend it’s November Eve?”

“Come on, Yoongi,” you plead, because he’s never given you a good explanation as to why he refuses to spend Halloween with you, and you just want to know why. “Won’t you just celebrate this one stupid holiday with me?”

“So you admit it’s stupid?”

“That’s not what I meant.” You frown at him, crossing your arms as the kettle starts whistling.

Yoongi exhales, reaching over you to pour the boiling water into your teacups, matching His and Hers ones you bought from the sale section of Target last year for Valentine’s Day. “It’s just not my thing. You know that.”

“But we’re college students,” you exclaim. “Halloween is the best when you’re a college student! You get to dress up as whatever you want and go to five different parties and spend the night with your friends without your parents chaperoning you.”

Yoongi purses his lips, unconvinced. “So… basically an opportunity to get piss drunk in a frat house? No thanks, I’ll pass.”

“You know that I wouldn’t care what we did if you celebrated Halloween with me,” you say, leaning against the counter as you hold your mug in your hands, the heat warming your palms and steam brushing against the skin of your cheeks. “Even if we just stayed in and watched a movie. Or played one of those horror video games Jungkook’s always talking about.”

“That sounds worse,” Yoongi admits with a helpless laugh. It really does. Neither you nor Yoongi have ever been huge fans of the horror genre Jungkook loves so much.

You chuckle. “Honestly, yeah, forget I said anything about that.”

“You know I just don’t care for Halloween that much,” Yoongi says, gazing down into the swirling brown of his mug, the steam from the water making his glasses fog up. “It’s nothing personal.”

You sigh. That’s about as good of an answer you’re going to be getting out of him. No matter what you suggest, whether it be a house party, a night in, or even just a candy feast, he has always declined, citing his unexplainable dislike for the festivities. The only reason he deals with the holiday in the first place is because you love it so much.

“Will you at least help me carve some pumpkins please?” You ask, a last ditch effort to get him to participate. “The supermarket on Fifteenth Street is having a sale on them, and I wanted to decorate the windowsill. It’s easier with two people, you know.”

Yoongi narrows his eyes, looking hesitant.

“Oh, please, Yoongi? Just this once? It’s not even, like, a strictly Halloween thing. It’s just a fall thing! Plus, we can roast the pumpkin seeds after for a snack,” you plead, placing your cup down on the counter so you can tug on his arms, hands wrapped around his wrists as you stare into his eyes, positively desperate.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Yoongi says with a huff, that resigned tone to his voice that signifies that he’s caving in. “Yes, we can carve pumpkins together. That I will do.”

“Oh my God, really? Yes! Yay, thank you so much!” In a fit of excitement, surprise, and joy, you pull Yoongi in for a hug, wrapping your arms around his neck as he tilts back in shock, tea spilling out over the edge of his mug and onto the linoleum floor beneath your feet, drops of it splashing against your skin.

“Whoa, whoa, okay,” Yoongi says, taken aback. Still nestled tightly within your arms, he carefully sets his mug down onto the counter so as to avoid more spilling, his other hand pressing against the small of your back. “I didn’t know pumpkin carving was so important to you.”

You laugh, pulling away as you look into his eyes, crinkled up into fond little crescents. “It’s not. But you are.”

“So cheesy,” Yoongi chides.

“You love it,” you remind him, pressing the side of your body against his as you lean against the counter together. Instinctively, you let your head flop onto his shoulder, fitting perfectly in the crook of his neck. “Thanks for doing this for me,” you say softly.

“Of course,” Yoongi says. “Anything for you.”

“Look how festive campus is!”

Yoongi chuckles as he watches you skip down the main walkway, the one that winds right from the west to the east side of campus, relishing in the feeling of autumn. Yoongi always forgets that it’s fall until it hits him like a brick to the head, and suddenly it’s getting dark at five-thirty and he can’t go outside without a proper jacket anymore. It’s a week until November, and Yoongi still refuses to wear anything heavier than a denim jacket, no matter how cold it gets. It can’t be winter yet, right?

“Wow, all the tones really fit the spooky mood,” you tell him, leaves crinkling as your feet step on the fallen foliage, brown and orange and yellow and red.

“How convenient it is that orange happens to be one of Halloween’s signature colors,” Yoongi chides with a roll of his eyes. “Is the Castle still hosting that party next week?”

“The costume one? Yeah, I’m pretty sure,” you tell him with a nod. “We’re still going, right?”

“Only because it’s our first year,” Yoongi reminds you pointedly. “And since you wanna celebrate together so badly.”

You scoff. “Don’t act like it’s such a drag. I know you want to spend time with me.”

Yoongi chuckles to himself, casual and cool. He knows you’re just teasing him but quite frankly, if Yoongi could spend every day of the rest of his life with you, then he would. If he could turn himself into a witch and cast a spell to keep you by his side for the rest of time, then he would. From the moment the two of you met in your dingy dorm, you clicked. And Yoongi knew, in that moment. He just knew.

“Oh my God, look at the pumpkins!”

Your voice breaks him from his thoughts, your finger pointing excitedly at the carved pumpkins outside of the dormitories that line the walkway, lit candles nestled safely inside. They’ve got everything from the college logo to video game characters to the face of your lovable-but-memeable university president carved into them, decorating the street with a little more personality than normal.

“They’re so cute, holy shit,” you tell Yoongi fondly, all endeared and heart-eyed, the same way you get when someone walks their dog through campus or a professor sends out an update email with a picture of their newborn grandchild. Yoongi’s only known you a couple of months, but already he’s starting to figure out what makes you tick. “I love them. Don’t you love them, Yoongi?”

You turn around to meet Yoongi’s eyes, and when he looks back at you it feels like his whole heart is lighter. He sees your smile and it makes his body fill with warmth, like someone’s wrapping a blanket around him, like a warm cup of hot cocoa on a cool autumn afternoon. He looks back at you, and it feels like everything is right.

“Yeah,” Yoongi says, grinning. “I do.”

The lopsided legs of your creaky kitchen table tremble as the pumpkin hits it.

“Damn, is this thing heavy or am I just getting weaker?” You ask, smoothing out the newspaper spread out on the flat surface of the table, two college students’ best attempt to avoid a mess. They’re old student copies with headlines like Brand New Cafeteria, but is the Food Even Any Good? and New Semester, New Me! sprawled across the front. You care about your school news, you really do, but the members of the newspaper team that hand out the papers practically stuff them down your throat whenever there’s a new issue, which is three times a week and at every street intersection on campus. So you’ve had extras lying around.

“Nope, they’re definitely heavy,” Yoongi agrees as he plops his pumpkin onto the table next to yours with a thud. “Though it’s not like I go to the gym much anyway.”

“Didn’t we say we were gonna try and be healthier this year, since we’re graduating?” You ask.

“That was before that new doughnut place opened up next to the ramen restaurant three streets up,” Yoongi reminds you.

“Maybe grad school?”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, reaching over the table to grab the pumpkin carving kits the two of you bought from the drugstore down the road. “Caution. Keep out of reach of children ages three and under,” he reads. “Welp, guess I can’t do this then…”

“Ha ha, very funny,” you say with a deadpan frown, grabbing onto his wrist. “Hold on a minute, Mr. I Promised I Would Do This For My Best Friend.” Yoongi exhales dramatically as you pull him back towards the table, though it’s not as if there was much resistance from him in the first place.

You pry open the plastic wrapping that surrounds the kit, the orange tools eventually popping out of their casing and onto your newspaper-ed table. Sure, you could have probably pulled out two knives from your kitchen drawer and it wouldn’t make a difference, but spending ten dollars each on these two little pumpkin carving kits didn’t seem like a waste of money. For the sake of Halloween spirit, right?

“What do you want to carve?” You ask, handing Yoongi your open kit as you gaze at the instruction manual. Pumpkin carving shouldn’t be too difficult, should it? You cut open the top, pull out all the gunk from the inside, and then carve a face, or something.

“I’m not a very good artist,” Yoongi admits, looking hesitant.

“Well, the good thing about pumpkin carving is that no one expects them to look nice,” you point out. “I think I want to do that anime eyes face emoji. You know the one. Let’s see…”

You grab a hold of the plastic knife that came with the kit, hover the tip over the top of the pumpkin, and stab. It sinks into the squash up to the hilt. That’s the good part.

The bad part is that, because you’re holding onto a knife made out of non-recyclable plastic, moving it once it’s inside the pumpkin is exceedingly difficult. You pull it right and left fruitlessly, watching as the knife sits firmly in place, the handle bending with the curve of your fingers if you tug on it too hard.

“Oh, for crying out loud,” Yoongi says with another sigh, abandoning his own pumpkin, which he has already de-stalked in the minutes you weren’t looking his way. “Let me help you.”

Suddenly, you feel a warmth wrap around you. A figure presses against your back, this musky, coffee-laden scent surrounding you, and you watch as Yoongi’s calloused hands slowly envelop yours, fingertips pressing firmly against your skin. It makes you freeze up instinctively, jumping at the sensation of his body around yours, of his torso pressed against your back, of his breath tickling your ear.

“Relax, alright?” He says, voice calm and gentle. He brings your hands to the knife, lets his palms rest against them as your fingers slowly wrap around the handle. You can feel him breathing, feel the slow rise and fall of his chest against you, the heat of his mouth just inches away from your cheek. “It’s just me.”

You force a chuckle. “You just surprised me, that’s all.”

You feel Yoongi pause behind you.

“Seriously, I’m fine. Help me,” you insist.

Steadily, albeit a little bit tentatively, Yoongi does. His hand wrapped around yours, together the two of you carve out the top of the pumpkin, his chest pressed firmly against your back, body engulfing you. He feels so close, so goddamn close, like there is barely an inch of space in between the two of you, like if he were to bend down right there and if you were shift yourself around you would see nothing but his face right in front of yours, his hazy brown eyes looking back at you, twinkling in the white light of your kitchen.

It almost makes you want to turn around and look.

“There we go,” Yoongi says, voice suddenly soft, quiet like there’s something else weighing on his tongue. “What are you thinking of carving?”

“I don’t know,” you murmur, lips upturned. “Maybe you?”

“I don’t make for a very attractive pumpkin picture,” Yoongi says with a shake of his head, even though that’s total bullshit for a number of reasons.

First of all, a pumpkin portrait is by no means meant to be an attractive portrayal of you, unless you’re Keanu Reeves and you look photogenic no matter what. Second of all, there has never been a time where Yoongi has not looked good. He always does. He did during finals week when his body was made of nothing but iced coffee, he did in freshman year when the two of you would stay awake until the early morning getting vodka spilled all over you in frat houses, and he does now, tired eyes and soft skin, dark hair and pink lips, standing in your apartment like he belongs here, like this is where he was meant to be.

“I think you would,” you tell him honestly. “You’d look good no matter what.”

Yoongi’s silent at that, but you can tell from the way his cheeks are turning red he’s taken the compliment to heart. It makes you want to shower him in them. It makes you want to freeze this moment in time, suspended in reality, and stay like that forever.

“Then I’ll do you,” he says with a grin, because what else would he say? Who else would he choose? You are going to put two matching pumpkins on your windowsill, and they will be of you and him. Messy, Picasso-style portraits carved into the orange skin. Two best friends, together even as fucking pumpkins.

You will carve out a picture of him, and he will carve out a picture of you, and isn’t that what this is really all about?

“Do you think people are gonna get the wrong idea about us?”

“What do you mean?”

Yoongi turns around to face you where you stand in front of your dorm mirror, this giant plastic one hanging on two hooks that you’ve latched onto the door of your room. He knows that you can see him in the mirror, staring back at you with a black mask over his face and a cape draped over his shoulders, the giant yellow emblem printed out on a piece of paper and taped onto his chest. It’s a last minute costume, for sure, but it gets the job done nicely.

“I mean,” you say, fixing the cat ears that sit atop your head. “Do you think people are gonna think we’re a couple, or something?”

Yoongi grins nervously and hopes that you don’t notice. “I mean, we’re just going to a frat party. I doubt it’s going to be light enough to see anything at all. Why?”

“Well, I don’t want people to get the wrong idea about us,” you say, adjusting the mask over your eyes. Yoongi, unabashedly, rakes his eyes up and down your figure. Your black turtleneck and skintight leather leggings don’t leave very much to the imagination. You’re definitely much more in costume than he is, to say the least.

“We’re freshmen, people already have the wrong idea about us,” Yoongi scoffs.

You turn around just so you can shoot a frown his way. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Why are you so worried about people getting the wrong idea about us?” Yoongi asks you, an eyebrow raised. This does not exactly bode well for him. “We can be Batman and Catwoman together no matter what people think.”

“I don’t know, I guess I just—” You stop in your tracks, letting the words fall off your lips and crash to the floor. “Never mind, it’s stupid.”

“What? You can tell me,” Yoongi says, concern lacing his voice. He rushes over to you, the two of you staring at your reflections in the mirror. Two friends, clad in black, wearing matching costumes. If Yoongi wasn’t sober right now, maybe he would actually do it.

Maybe.

“It’s nothing, it’s nothing,” you shrug it off with a shake of your head. “I’m happy to be doing this with you. Even if your costume totally sucks.”

“Hey!” Yoongi exclaims defensively. “It is not my fault you came up with this idea last minute even though you already owned everything. I had to pay twenty-five cents to print this in color, you know.”

“A Twenty-five cent costume and you still look good.”

You and Yoongi smile at each other in the mirror, lips turned up as you stare at yourselves, wondering if this is all you will ever be, or if there is something more.

Yoongi sure hopes it’s the latter.

And he’s determined to find out, once and for all, tonight.

You’ve just lit the candles that sit inside yours and Yoongi’s pumpkins when you hear the knock at your door.

You’re sure that Yoongi can hear you from a mile away as you scurry towards the door, white platform heels clapping against the floorboards with every step you take. You’re going to have to practice walking in these a bit more. Maybe you shouldn’t have bought them only a week before Halloween, and maybe you should have at least tried to break them in a little bit.

“Hello?” You swing open the door.

“He—whoa,” Yoongi begins before his eyes widen to the size of the moon as he fully takes in the sight in front of him. “What’s with the—uh, the… dress?” He’s scratching at the nape of his neck, eyes sweeping up and down your body.

You hold out the skirt of your sequined, bedazzled dress as best you can, and grin. “I’m a gogo dancer! What do you think?”

“Wow, I—” Yoongi starts, a little speechless. “I don’t know. Wow. You look… you look nice, Y/N.”

You smile, thankful for the compliment. Yoongi seems weirdly breathless, blinking more often than usual, like he’s trying to convince himself that what he’s seeing is real. Although, you will admit that this dress is much more sparkly than anything else you have in your closet. You reckon a few disco balls were sacrificed to make this costume.

“Why—uh, why did you call me over? Did you need something from me?”

“Actually, yes,” you say, ushering Yoongi into your apartment.

As he’s walking inside, Yoongi notices the pumpkins sitting on your windowsill. “Hey, those look cute together.”

“Don’t they?” You say proudly. Nobody else has commented on them, but then again, you live on the fifth floor of your apartment, so you don’t imagine many people can even see them from ground level. But it’s nice to know that they’re there, and that they mean something. Not to a whole lot of people, but to you. And to him. “But that’s not why I asked you to come over.”

“Why, what’s up?”

You freeze when he looks up at you, like you can hardly will the next few words to come out of your mouth. They’re stuck at the dam of your lips, refusing to budge, because there is this tiny, this little part of you that doesn’t even have the courage to ask. To say it. Because you know already.

“Hoseok’s throwing a party tonight—”

“No.”

“You didn’t even let me finish!��

“But I know what you’re going to say,” Yoongi says like it’s obvious, because it is. “You’re going to ask me to come with you. And I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this, Y/N, but I am not going to go. I’m just not.”

“But it’s not a shitty frat party or anything!” You exclaim, desperately trying to dig yourself out of a hole you’re already six-feet in. “It’s at his place, an apartment across campus, with just some friends of his. There won’t be crazy music and sleazy guys and jungle juice. It’s just going to be a house party.”

“I don’t care, I don’t want to go,” Yoongi tells you. “There’s nothing you can do to change my mind.”

“Why? Why won’t you go?” You demand, because the least your best friend of nearly four years could do is give you a real reason. A real reason as to why he hates Halloween, why he never wants to celebrate it with you, why he never wants to go out with you on your favorite night of the year.

“Because I just don’t want to! Why can’t you just accept that? I don’t want to go!”

Silence. It’s almost as if Yoongi’s shocked he was even speaking so loudly in the first place.

Next to you, the candles flicker.

“I don’t get it,” you say, resigned. “I don’t understand. This is our very last year to celebrate Halloween as college students, as best friends, and you can’t even give me a real excuse as to why you won’t come with me.”

Yoongi frowns. “What do you mean, ‘a real excuse’?”

“Exactly that,” you say sharply. “A real excuse. Even when I offer for us to just stay in and eat KitKats and watch a shiity movie you refuse. All because it’s Halloween. I don’t get it. It’s not the crowds, and it’s not the drinks, and it’s not even the other stuff, like the pumpkins and the decorations. Is it me? Am I the reason you don’t want to celebrate Halloween?”

“No, what the fuck, it’s not you!”

“Then what is it, Yoongi?” You plead, not even making an attempt to lower your voice. Can’t he hear the sheer desperation in your voice? The hopelessness? “Why won’t you just tell me why you don’t ever want to celebrate this goddamn holiday with me? Is it my fault?”

“I just don’t!”

The sound of Yoongi’s shouts echoes throughout your living space, bouncing off of the walls. You look back at him, feeling helpless, but he doesn’t look angry, or enraged. He looks exhausted. Like this conversation has knocked the wind right out of him, stolen the breath from his lungs. Like suddenly the pot has boiled over, only it’s extinguished the flames that kept it burning.

“I just don’t,” Yoongi repeats, fists clenched tightly by his side. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

He gives you one last tired look, matching your own defeated expression, before turning around and walking out of your apartment. The door shuts firmly behind him, neither a slam nor a gentle stop, leaving you stranded in the middle of your living space, watching his silhouette disappear.

You sigh. You don’t think Yoongi will ever tell you why he hates Halloween. And while that may be no fault of your own, you can’t help but feel like it has something to do with you.

Yoongi could probably count the amount of times he’s gone to a frat party on one hand, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t already know everything there is to know about them. In his eyes, once you’ve been to one, you’ve been to them all.

Still, he supposes that it being Halloween makes this one a little different. Everyone’s in some sort of costume, whether it be good or bad or just plain old lazy, and there are at least a few orange and black decorations lining the walls of the Castle, and they’ve curated a playlist with Halloween songs as well as rap songs Yoongi has heard plenty of times before, so for once, Yoongi will give the fraternity a bit of credit when it comes to their Halloween party-planning.

Beside him, you take another giant chug of your drink from the orange solo cup in your hand, wincing as the alcohol burns your throat on the way down.

“Hey, take it easy, okay?” He says, though he doubts you can even hear him over the music, loud in the kind of way that his ears are going to be ringing far into tomorrow morning.

“I’m fine!” You shout back, even though you are definitely not. The entire room reeks of a mixture of vodka and sickly sweet soda.

“I just want to make sure you’re not overdoing it!” He tells you as the two of you get shoved together from some massive guy pushing past Yoongi and sending him crashing towards you. He catches a glimpse of the contents of your cup, eyebrows raising when he sees that it’s almost empty. You just got that drink five minutes ago.

You smile. “I’m not!”

The song changes, and Yoongi swears that he can feel the entire house shake as everyone screams, cheering as they bounce up and down, dancing to the beat. Next to him, you are finishing the last few drops of whatever’s in your cup, finding an empty ledge to place it down on when you’re done, and pulling him in close to you.

“Let’s dance!” You shriek excitedly.

And who is Yoongi to resist?

He lets you take your hand in his own and parade him around the tiny little space the two of you share, a couple square feet of freedom in this crowded room, chock full of sweaty bodies just like his. Yoongi may not have had as much to drink as you, but the little bit of alcohol in his system is already shutting down normal mental processes like not-staring-at-you-constantly and pretending-that-he-likes-you-just-as-a-friend, sending him into a tizzy whenever he meets your starstruck eyes.

Even in this dingy, sweaty, unventilated fraternity living room, you are beautiful. You are beautiful here, and you are beautiful at three in the morning after twelve straight hours of studying, and you are beautiful after spilling the dining hall’s chicken noodle soup all over yourself.

God, you’re the only person Yoongi is looking at in this room. You’re the only person he sees.

Shaking his head, Yoongi abandons those thoughts as the song comes to an end, a hand wrapped around your wrist as he leans into your ear. “Do you wanna go outside? It’s hot in here!”

“Okay, whatever!” You agree easily, too easygoing after you’ve got a few drinks in you.

Yoongi grabs a hold of your sweaty hand and tugs you towards the back door, one that he thinks leads to a fenced in backyard. You squeeze through the crowd, getting a couple of drinks spilled on your shoes on the way until you reach the back door and Yoongi fumbles with the knob, shaking it a couple of times before it gets loose. Eventually, the two of you stumble outside into the backyard, where a couple of people are playing beer pong and a couple of others look like they’re making out.

It’s a frat party. What else did Yoongi expect?

It’s the end of October, and Yoongi doesn’t even have on a jacket, but the chill of the night has little effect on him after being in a room that’s felt like one hundred degrees for an hour. Out here, Yoongi feels like he can finally breathe.

“It’s kinda cold out here, don’t you think?”

Yoongi doesn’t even have time to respond before you’re wrapping yourself up in him, curling into his body and placing his arm around your figure, letting the heat from his frame radiate onto your skin.

“Better than being in there,” Yoongi reasons.

“But aren’t you having fun?”

He looks down to see you looking up with him with big, wide eyes, like you’re afraid that he isn’t having fun, or afraid that you’re enjoying this night more than he is. It makes him smile. “With you, I am.”

You grin at that, turning back to face forward, head pressing into the crook of his neck. “That’s good to hear,” you tell him. “It seemed like you were kinda nervous.”

“Nervous?” His voice cracks as he says it. Fuck.

“Yeah, is there something you wanna tell me? It looks like you’ve been dying to say something all night,” you comment mindlessly, clearly much more observant now than you are when you’re sober. Or perhaps, Yoongi’s just more obvious.

He takes a deep breath, pressing his eyes shut tightly. This is his chance. He knows it.

“Actually, yes, there is,” he says, and it feels like he has to force the words out of his mouth because they’re refusing to come out on their own, pausing at the edge of his lips. It feels like he has to overcome his own mind in order to tell you, feels like every word is a sucker punch to his lungs.

You pull away from him, looking up at Yoongi with big, blinking eyes. It’s a clear night, and Yoongi knows because he can see the fucking stars reflected in your pupils, see them twinkling as your glossy eyes gaze back up at him. You look up at Yoongi and God, you are just so beautiful. You are beautiful, and Yoongi wonders, then, if you know. If you know how Yoongi looks at you. If you know how he feels about you. He is so in love. It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out. You are beautiful and he is so in love, and he’s been dying to tell you that and this might be his only opportunity to do so, because tomorrow will be a new day and Yoongi won’t have the guts tomorrow. This is his only chance.

You deserve to know.

“Well?” You ask him. “What is it?”

Yoongi wraps his arm around the small of your back, pulls you into him, and presses his lips to yours.

Hoseok’s party is fun. It’s definitely one of the better ones you’ve been to in your four years of university so far. There aren’t too many people, and the drinks are actually good instead of just burning your throat, and his music taste is impeccable.

And yet, you don’t think you’ve ever been so unenthused at a party in your whole life. Thriller by Michael Jackson blares from Hoseok’s television speakers, chatter fills the room, and Hoseok’s girlfriend, Haebin, is constantly checking up on you, but never has one place felt so empty.

It’s not really very difficult for you to wonder why.

“Hey, Y/N!”

You whip your head around to find Haein standing by the kitchen table, gesturing towards Hoseok as he’s looking up the recipe for a drink he wants to try.

“You want one? Hoseok’s trying to make Long Island Iced Tea,” Haebin asks. Next to her, Hoseok is struggling to get the measurements right. At least he’s making an attempt.

You stare down at your nearly-full cup of strawberry daiquiri. You took one sip when Haebin first handed it to you thirty minutes ago, and haven’t touched it since. “No, I’m alright, thank you.”

Haebin sighs, patting Hoseok on the back encouragingly before she makes her way over to where you’re sitting on their couch, pressed up against the arm of the sofa as you mindlessly swirl the drink around in your cup, eyes zoning into the whirlpool you’re creating. She sits down next to you with a smile, with the kind of look on her face that makes you simultaneously thankful for and dread the conversation you’re about to have.

“Hey, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing, I’m fine.” You don’t even believe yourself when you say it.

“Listen, you don’t have to tell me. I just know that Halloween is your favorite holiday and I was wondering if there was something getting you down tonight,” Haebin says in that comforting, gentle sort of way, like an old friend who knows all your tells.

“It’s not a big deal, really. I think I’m just out of it tonight,” you say, not drunk enough to divulge more information but also not sober enough to keep your mouth completely shut.

Haebin smiles at you, lips pursed. “Alright then. If everything’s alright.” She pushes her hands onto her thighs as she gets off of the couch, heading back towards the kitchen to help Hoseok figure out how to mix drinks. But before she leaves you alone, she turns around and says one more thing. “You know, I don’t know why Yoongi’s not here or anything, but I wish that he was. You always look so much happier whenever he’s around.”

And that just sends your mind into meltdown.

Defeated, alone, and best friend-less, you place your cup down on the end table to your left and get up off of the couch, beginning to gather your belongings, your coat and your shoes and your bag, tugging your arms through the sleeves as you storm towards the door, eyebrows knitted together, lips pursed.

“Hey, where are you going—?”

“I gotta go, Haebin. I just—” You pull on a shoe, tugging at the boot as it slips over your heel, “—I gotta go. Thank Hoseok for me, okay? I have to go.”

You only have time to catch Haebin nod, wordless, before you tug open the door to Hoseok’s apartment and stomp outside.

This is the worst Halloween of your life, bar none. The time when you were four and you tripped over a curb on the sidewalk, spraining your ankle doesn’t even come close. It’s your very last year to celebrate Halloween as a college student, to celebrate it by getting dressed up in a low-effort costume and spending time with your friends, and your best friend isn’t even here. He refused.

He refused and you still don’t know why, but worst of all he refused and you still wish he was here. You wish you could have spent time with him tonight. More than anything else. You wish you could have spent the night wrapped up together on your couch, or on your bed, watching your favorite television shows and enjoying each other’s company. You wish you could have curled into his body as the television blared, pressed your head against his shoulder and felt the warmth of his skin on yours. God, you wish you could have.

You wish you could have told him.

You wish you had the guts to.

Twenty minutes later finds you outside one of the dozens of frat parties likely occurring on campus right now, the bass from the music so loud that you can feel it in your eardrums even outside of the building. No part of you wants to go inside something like that, but at this point you start to wonder if maybe hopping different frats is actually your best idea. Get a drink, get drunk, and then move onto the next one. Rinse and repeat until you don’t remember a thing about this terrible, awful night.

As you walk along the sidewalk, you spot another student sitting on the curb underneath a leaf-less tree, a cheap black drugstore masquerade mask covering the top half of his face. He doesn’t seem to be having a particularly enjoyable night either.

Normally, the last thing you’d want to do is sit down next to a stranger whose face is disguised, because who knows what could happen to you if you do, but there are at least twenty people surrounding the two of you, loitering outside the frat house in the hopes that they can eventually get inside. And honestly, you could use a fucking break.

As casually as you can possibly manage, you take a seat next to the boy, a few inches apart from him as he looks up at you. You can’t make out too much in the dim light of the frat house, but he’s illuminated just enough for you to see his eyes widen at the sight of you.

“You don’t mind, do you?” You ask.

He shakes his head.

You smile in thanks, shifting around where you’re seated on the cold cement, eyes drifting all over the place, from the houses across the street to the road to the people standing around, anything to avoid turning back towards the boy and initiating an even more awkward conversation. Sitting down, the world stops spinning, just a little bit. You didn’t have too much to drink at Hoseok’s, but it was enough to loosen your mind.

“Can I say something?” You say loudly, turning towards the boy.

It was enough to loosen your lips too, apparently.

The boy stares back at you, silent.

“I’m sorry, I just need to get this off my chest.” You close your eyes, breathing in and breathing out, feeling your chest rise and fall. “I am not having a great night. And I wish I was out here with another friend of mine, instead. He’s my best friend, actually. He just… didn’t want to come out tonight with me. But I wish he was here, because I love spending time with him, and I miss him.”

The words spill off of your tongue like lava from a volcano, bursting from your lips completely unfiltered. It surprises you, a little, how much you actually have to say. How much has been weighing on your chest.

You don’t expect him to respond. Truthfully, you can’t even believe you’re unloading all of your baggage onto him in the first place. Since when are you the type of person to tell other people about the tragedies of your life?

But then, he says, “You do?”

And it makes you wonder what else you’ve been keeping hidden.

“Yeah, I guess I do,” you realize. “I love spending time with him. He makes every day brighter, turns everything he touches into laughter. And I wanted to spend time with him tonight because I actually thought he would want to. You know, we carved pumpkins together a few days ago. Of each other’s faces.” You force out a laugh. “We carved each other’s faces into pumpkins and he still isn’t here tonight. I wanted him to be here because he’s my best friend, and because he makes me so happy, and even other people are noticing what effect he has on me. Noticing how fucking happy he makes me. Because he does. I feel like I’m a better person with him. I want to spend the rest of my life with him and he’s not here and instead of going to look for him I’m sitting here telling you the sob story that is my life and I just wish—”

“Does that mean you love him?” The boy asks softly.

“What?”

“Does that mean you love him?”

You turn to look at the boy, eyebrows raised, almost ready to deny such a thing, but when you open your mouth, nothing comes out.

How could you say you don’t love Yoongi? Of course you do. He is your best friend. You never want to live a day when he’s not by your side. You want to spend the rest of your life with him. He makes you smile and laugh like it’s nobody’s business, brightens your day without even trying. Just seeing him is enough to lift your spirits. Seeing his face on the other side of your apartment door, all ripped jeans and Converse sneakers, hands wrapped in the sleeves of his hoodie, dark brown eyes blinking back at you, pink lips parted in a grin. That image you have of him in your head—it’s one you don’t ever want to forget. He is standing in your apartment, lips upturned, eyes crushed into crescents, smiling at you. He is mid-laugh, grinning from ear to ear at something you said. He is right there.

“Well, yeah,” you say, because what else are you supposed to do? “I guess I do.”

Suddenly, your chest feels a whole lot lighter.

The boy next to you smiles, the dim light barely illuminating his features, but when you look at him there is something so strangely familiar about him, about the way he blinks at you, about the peak of his Cupid’s bow, about how his lips are stretched into a grin. It couldn’t be him… could it?

But before you have time to ask, he is leaning towards you and pressing his lips atop yours, crashing your mouths together in a desperate, messy kiss. His palm presses against your cheek and you can’t help but sink into it, sink into the way his other hand curls around to rest on the small of your back, let yourself be engulfed by him.

You’ve never kissed Yoongi before, but you know that this is what it must be like.

You know, from the way your blood starts to sizzle, sparks rushing through your veins. From the way your heart is pumping, loud and clear in your ears, like it’s been jolted to life. Like a shock is running through your body. Like a warmth is filling you up, from the inside out.

When you part, as Yoongi takes off his mask, he can’t keep the smile off of his face. “I knew it. I knew you loved me.”

“What are you doing out here?” You ask, positively shocked. “I thought you hated Halloween.”

“I do,” Yoongi confirms. “Or, well, I did, I guess.”

“Then what changed?”

“You. Us. We changed,” Yoongi says, motioning between your bodies. “I hated Halloween because it had bad memories for me. Nothing crazy, but, yeah. You don’t remember?”

“What?” Your mouth drops open. “What should I remember?”

“We kissed that night.” Yoongi begins, eyes shifting down towards the ground. Clearly recalling this is awkward for him. “Halloween, freshman year. Outside of the Castle.”

You don’t remember this at all.

“Well, I kissed you and you kissed me, and I thought that we had established then and there that we liked each other. You know, like, really liked each other. But you were so drunk that night. I don’t know what you had, but you could hardly walk by the time I got you back to your dorm. Your roommate was furious with me.” He shakes his head at the memory, replaying in his mind like a movie. “And I thought, okay, we’ll just talk about this tomorrow. But you must have had a wicked headache or something, because I saw you the next day and you said—”

“God, whatever happened last night, I don’t want to know.”

It’s the middle of the day, the sun high in the crisp November sky, but you have been cradling your forehead ever since Yoongi last dropped you off, back at your dorm, when you were slowly starting to crash.

“What?” His voice is hollow, empty.

“Last night fucked me up real good,” you say with a huff, shaking your head. “I’m glad I don’t remember what happened last night.”

As Yoongi traipses back to square one, his heart shakes in its cage.

“I guess you just didn’t remember,” Yoongi tries to explain, much to your horror as you realize that you and Yoongi have been crushing on each other hopelessly for three years extra without you even realizing it. “So, uh, yeah. That’s why I didn’t like Halloween.”

“You kissed me that night?”

“What?”

“You kissed me that night? Outside of the Castle?”

A tingling on your lips. A faint feeling of warmth. You remember bits of that night. It was cold, and you were freezing in your costume. And you and Yoongi had gone outside to escape the crowd, and he said something, and then you said something, and then he—!

“Yeah.” Yoongi nods. “I did.”

“And I didn’t remember?”

“I mean, you were really drunk.”

Your shoulders sink, the thought of Yoongi, helplessly pining after you for three more years because he thought you didn’t like him like that, because he thought that the love you shared was one-sided, still sticking by your side as your best friend. At the thought of him deciding it was better to be best friends and keep that love hidden than tell you and risk it all over again. At the thought of him accepting what he thought was his fate.

“I’m sorry,” you say. What else is there to tell him? If you had remembered, if you just didn’t say those words, if you had just told him how you felt, this would have all been so much easier.

“It’s okay now,” Yoongi says, expression growing fond as he pulls you in for a hug, sad to see you so gloomy. “You love me and I love you. What more could I want?”

A realization dawns on you.

Pulling apart from him ever so slightly, you quirk an eyebrow. “You know, you could have just kissed me again the next day, and then we wouldn’t have had to deal with all of this. Plus, you would have still liked Halloween.”

Yoongi scoffs, pressing a kiss to your icy cheek. “So what? I like it now, how about that? I fucking love Halloween now. It turned my best friend into my girlfriend. She’s the love of my life. We can celebrate every Halloween together from now on until the end of time.”

You grin, pressing a kiss back on his little button nose, pink from the cold. Finally. “That’s the spirit.”

↳ don’t forget to message me with any thoughts or feedback!

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heyhihellowhatsup0 · 3 years

Note

Tom proposes to you in the most cutest and spontaneous way there is like realising that he want to spent the rest of his life with you

FLUFF OVERLOADED

WE ARE FLUFFY AF TODAY LFG! Its a bit long so I’m putting a read more for it but there’s not smut all fluff and softness

Requests Are Open!

It was a strange weekend away but Tom insisted on it and brought you and all of your family and friends along to weekend at your favorite lake house destination. Evey thing seemed fun at the time, but you couldn’t help but notice how strange Tom had been acting since you had got there. Not wanting to spend any time with you and avoiding you nervously when this whole trip was his idea in the first place.

Tom’s idea for a “family dinner” wasn’t out of character but the fact that he was barely making eye contact with you when you were trying to talk to him made it feel strange to you. You tried holding his hand and he would pull away as if he was nervous to be around you. When you tried whispering a joke in his ear, Tom would look straight ahead, afraid to look at you and laugh outwardly. It should have felt like a large Thanksgiving-like dinner, but it felt completely off to you and you weren’t about to hold back on Tom for upsetting you.

You glared at Tom as if you were plotting his murder with your eyes as Harrison and Harry sat across from you, whispering to one another as they laughed in Tom’s direction. It only made you more suspicious as Tom continued to tell anecdotes while he finally grabbed you free hand casually. Only you weren’t having it as you attempted to listen to his story from filming.

Harrison and Harry were using dinner to continue to busy Tom chops, as per usual. You were grateful for it as you sat there silently. Laughing to yourself as Harry began ripping Tom to shreds for acting like a movie star. Secretly knowing the boys always had your back in any situation.

“No, Tom,” Harrison said over a roar of laughter. “You don’t say that shit to Robert Downey Jr…”

Tom’s face grew red from laughing to hard as he passed a bowl of vegetables to you. He wasn’t looking at you again, and his eyes were filled with nervousness. You were going to kill him for making this so much weirder for no reason at all.

“Alright, mate. See how it is,” Tom replied as he glanced over at Harrison for some assistance, picking up on your silence.

Harrison elbowed Harry, who nearly choke on his beer as he eyed Harry. Finally, Harry got the hint to do/say something and he immediately raised up a glass.

“Well,” Harry started, “Cheers to a fun weekend, everyone!” he exclaimed as you all cheered to the toast and drank.

Tom took a sip of drink wine and rolled his eyes into the wine glass. That’s it? He glared at Harry again, as he shushed Tom by putting his hand to his lips, hoping you couldn’t catch it.

But you did, and Harrison saw it. Pretending to playfully punch Harry against his shoulder, making him yelp as Harry punched Harrison back in retaliation. The two of them play fighting now as a not so discreet distraction as you and Tuwaine stared at the two of them, no longer having an appetite due to Tom’s strange behavior.

“Hey, what’s going on over there?!” Tuwaine asked, pointing at Harry and Haz with his beer. “We’re eating, you know. Don’t make me tell Phil on you,” he joked.

“Can you punch Tom next?” you finally blurted out with a smirk as you and Harry exchanged grins as he laughed at your smug little comment.

Tom turned to face you , with a surprised look on his face, “She speaks!” He cracked a smile, putting his arm around you “I was beginning to think you’ve gone mute, darling,”

“I was beginning to think you’ve forgotten my existence, darling,” you sassed him back with a fake accent.

Harrison buried his face in his hand, trying not to look in their direction.

“Bite your tongue, guys; bite your tongue.” you heard Harrison muttering to himself, causing Harry and Tuwaine to burst out in a fit of laughter.

You turned to look at Harrison and Harry, who have both stopped laughing and gave you friend an apologetic look. Oops. You watched as they both now remained quiet as you took another sip of your drink and hoped you and Tom could go back to your room in one piece.

“False,” Tom insisted with you. You looked at him, flashing him the faintest of smiles.Even when you were pissed off at him, you couldn’t be for too long knowing how much you loved him. Tom glanced around the room, trying not to start anything. For an actor, he was really bad at keeping his cool.

“Are you up to something?” you asked him suspiciously.

Tom tried looking stunned, but it came out as a really awkward and nervous laugh, which then sent a train reaction to Harry who almost bursting it out in laughter behind his food.

“What? No!” Tom answered, mid-laugh. He glanced over at Harry, trying to get him to stop laughing. “Cut it out man, you’re making me laugh!”

Harry put his hands up apologetically as he was able to stifle his laugh. He glanced over at Harrison. “This is why we don’t get involved,” he whispered quietly, hoping you didn’t hear. But Haz hit him gently to knock it off as you shook your head, feeling that you were not in a joke or something and you hated it.

“Don’t be so paranoid,” Tom remarked as he tried to finish his beer. Harrison closed his eyes painfully as he heard Tuwaine groan out loud practically in pain from Tom’s very poor choice of words.

“You div,” Harrison said to him.

“Why would I be paranoid?” you added as you turned to Tom suspiciously, “You’re giving me a reason to be right now, what is going on?” you asked, looking around the room.

It was a time like this where the boys wished they didn’t know anything.

“Correction,” Tuwaine whispered to the rest of the table, “This is why we don’t get involved.” Tuwaine slumped back in his seat, looking towards Tom confused if they should leave or not, “I think he’s drunk Y/N,” Tuwaine said out loud to try and ease your stress you were clearly showing.

You glanced over at Tom, still not making eye contact with anyone. You scoffed at what Tom said as you took another sip of your drink. Looking around at everyone who was now staring at both Tom and you with wide eyes which made your heart feel like it was sinking into it’s stomach. You knew Tom was hiding something from you and you were getting upset that he made you the last person to know. Whatever it may be.

“Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on here?” you said, your voice raising a little bit as you tried to hide the cracks in it. You stood up, looking at Harry and Harrison for an answer, but their faces were empty as Tom was following your lead, trying to get you to sit back and relax to escalate the situation.

You finally gave Tom a look, that only meant you were plotting his murder now with your eyes. But you squinted your eyes when you noticed the small smile forming at Tom’s lips.

“Christ sake, Y/N, will you marry me?” Tom finally blurted out from behind you.

“Wait, what?” you exclaimed as your whole body felt like it was about to collapse. You turned towards the boys who looked just as stunned as you were. Clearly this was not a part of the plan but Tom said fuck it.

Tom chuckled as he pulled you closer, “I had a whole plan to bring you out here and do it tomorrow by the lake but I’ve been so bloody nervous I couldn’t even be around you. I’m sorry for making you think it was for bad reasons,” he felt terrible as he apologized to you.

Your eyes filled with tears in your eyes as you turned to face Tom in shock. You were confused and excited at the same time as you watched Tom grab the black velvet box out of his back pocket and got down on one knee.

You knew you probably looked stunned as a stream of tears rolled down your cheek, which started to make everyone sitting at the table cry with excitement. Tom took your left hand and looked up at you with a serious expression, “I can’t keep a secret from you to save my life” he said with a laugh as his fingers trembled against yours, “But please, let me be your husband so I never have to hide another damn thing from you again.”

#tom holland #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland blurb #tom holland fluff #heyhihellowhatsup blurbs

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jekde04 · 3 years

Text

Hide and Seek

For Gruvia Week 2021: Day 3 - Discovery

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 4

Pairing: Gruvia (Gray Fullbuster & Juvia Lockser) Fandom: Fairy Tail Genre: Romance/Humor Word Count: 4,424 words Summary: It was safe to say that this wasn't the way Gray envisioned revealing their relationship to anyone. You may also read it on FanFiction.net and AO3! Check out my master list for other Gruvia fics.

The smell of curry wafted through his bedroom before he heard her call his name.

"Gray-sama! Lunch is ready!"

Really, he would have been happy with a couple of caramade franks delivered to his doorstep. But Juvia would hear none of it, saying he ought to eat healthier homecooked meals whenever he could—an indirect way of telling him that she would cook for him every chance she got. And even though Gray protested that Juvia was unnecessarily tiring herself out, she was the type of person who would go through all the trouble to make him happy. Even if that meant cooking a full meal of his favorite food the day after she just got back from a week-long mission.

Clad only in his boxers, Gray got up from his bed and made his way to his apartment's dining area. It wasn't much, just a square wooden table large enough to seat two people (or four, if you cramp them in). He watched as Juvia—wearing only his shirt that looked too large on her delicate frame—prepared the table, making sure to put extra curry sauce over his rice like she knew he loved.

Juvia moved her chair to the corner of the table so that she was sitting next to him, their arms and knees touching.

"Tsk! Why are you sitting so far from me?" Gray grumbled, pretending to be annoyed.

Juvia glanced at him, confusion evident on her face. "What is Gray-sama talking about? Juvia is almost on your lap." Even so, she moved closer to him so that they were almost squished together.

"But you're not."

With a mischievous smile playing on his lips, Gray picked Juvia up like a plushie and sat her on his lap. She shrieked and instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Now that's better," he grinned, one arm around her waist and another across her lap, his fingers palming her exposed guild mark.

"Gray-sama!" Juvia scolded him, a healthy shade of pink blooming on her pale cheeks. "Juvia and Gray-sama should be eating. We already skipped breakfast!"

"So?" He ignored her weak protests as he tightened his hold on her waist and buried his head at the crook of her neck, leaving a wet kiss just below her ear. He could feel her fingers gripping the hair on his nape as he trailed kisses down her neck.

"Gray-sama..."

It was supposed to be a plea to let her go, but it came out huskier than Juvia intended, causing a tightness in Gray's boxers. With all the energy she could muster, Juvia pushed him away and cradled his head between her hands so that she could look him in the eyes.

"Gray-sama needs to eat so he can have more energy—" she kissed him on the lips—"to satisfy Juvia." She sported a sweet, innocent smile, but there was an unmistakably playful glint in her eyes.

Gray smirked. "Am I not satisfying you, huh?" He kissed her hard before she could even answer, and Juvia tried her best not to melt into a puddle right then and there.

"You are," Juvia said between kisses. "But Gray-sama and Juvia need to eat. Our last meal was last night."

"But I only want to eat you," Gray whispered as he nibbled at her ear, his hand sliding dangerously between her legs. Juvia tried to protest, but her voice came out so weak as Gray trailed kisses on her cheek and covered her mouth with his.

A couple of knocks made both of them jump.

"Are you expecting someone, Gray-sama?" Juvia asked, finally getting a chance to pull away, but not enough to completely escape.

"No," Gray mumbled. He couldn't care less as he continued planting wet kisses on Juvia's cheeks, down to her jaws and neck. If he ignored whoever was at the door, that person would surely go away.

A louder set of knocks pounded on his door.

Collecting as much willpower as she could possibly get (given that Gray was practically lapping her up like a cold popsicle on a blazing hot day), Juvia hopped off Gray's lap and straightened herself.

"Gray-sama should answer that."

"C'mon, Juvs," Gray whined, hating how she was suddenly out of his reach. He tried grabbing her wrist, but she quickly pulled her hands to her chest and pointed towards the door. He felt the urge to punch whoever was on the other side.

That bastard won't even know what's coming.

Sighing, Gray started to make his way towards the door when a barrage of knocks once again threatened to take his door off the hinges. It was followed by a voice that sent a chill down his spine.

"Open up, Fullbuster!"

It only took a second for Juvia to recognize the familiar voice and cover her mouth with her hands.

"Erza-san? What's she doing here?"

"How would I know? I told her I was sick!" Gray said, careful not to raise his voice. Not only did he lie to Erza and his whole team so that he could skip their mission—he did it so he could spend time with Juvia, his secret girlfriend for about a month now. After all, she just got back from a mission herself, and they had barely spent three full days with each other since they got together as they were whisked away to mission after mission—he with Team Natsu and she with Gajeel and Lily.

For goodness' sake, they deserved their 'alone time' together. And by that, he meant getting away from the prying eyes of his guildmates.

It wasn't like anyone would be disappointed to learn that he and Juvia were going out. In fact, he was quite sure he would have to endure merciless teasing from pretty much everyone in the guild for at least a couple of weeks when they found out about them.

It was just that with Juvia right here—in his home, wearing only his shirt and her skimpy lacy panties that barely covered her bum—it was safe to say that this wasn't the way he envisioned revealing their relationship to anyone.

"Gray! We brought food." It was Lucy this time.

He took a deep breath. Okay, you just have to show them you're fine and they'll leave you alone. Turning to Juvia, he said, "Hide. In my room. Now."

Juvia nodded and noiselessly scurried off to Gray's room. Though hiding their relationship for the meantime was more of Gray's idea than hers, she definitely didn't want to reveal it by getting caught half-naked in his apartment.

Another series of pounding brought Gray's attention back to his front door. "Gray, I swear if you don't open this right now, I will—"

Gray opened the door and came face to face with a worried Lucy and a frowning Erza, both carrying huge brown paper bags brimming with snacks and fruits.

"Thanks for visiting, but I'm fine. You can go," Gray said in a flat tone. Well, if he wanted to continue his make-out session with his girlfriend, he better get down to business right away and cut his friends' visit as short as possible.

"Hello to you, too," Erza answered the cranky ice mage. Without being invited in, she sidestepped Gray and walked straight to the kitchen, setting down the paper bag she was carrying. Lucy followed, muttering, "Geez, thanks for the warm welcome," and started taking out the food they brought with them.

"Seriously, what are you two doing here?" he asked as he followed them into the kitchen.

"We're being good friends, dummy," Lucy answered him. "You're sick, so we thought we'd make sure you're okay."

"Well, I'm okay. You didn't have to go out of your way for this."

"And just let you starve to death?" Erza asked. Everyone knew Gray couldn't cook an egg to save his life. She found a box of medicines in the grocery bag and tossed it to Gray.

"That doesn't seem to be the case, though," Lucy quipped, her hand holding a barely eaten bowl of curry. "Someone must have already stopped over to cook for Gray."

Gray gulped and tried his best to keep a straight face.

"You know, this tastes like the curry Juvia cooks for us in Fairy Hills," Erza remarked after tasting the dish, a crease forming on her brows.

Oh no, Gray thought. How did Juvia's name come up all of a sudden? And how the hell would he steer the conversation around? His mind drew up a blank, fixated on the fact that Juvia was just a few feet away from being found and he couldn't do a single thing about it.

"Did Juvia drop by this morning to bring you food, Gray?" Lucy asked in a teasing tone, a naughty glint in her eyes.

"Y-yes! Yes, that's what she did!" Gray answered, a little too eagerly. "And then she left right away. For a mission. For three days. Yeah, that's it. She won't be back for three days." Mentally, he thanked Lucy for giving him that perfectly plausible scenario.

"Really? I'm surprised she didn't insist on taking care of you," Erza said. Gray smirked as he remembered all the ways Juvia took care of him since last night.

"Yeah, that's so unlike Juvia, isn't it?" Lucy said, her hand cradling her chin like she was deep in thought. Her eyes shot up to Gray, making beads of sweat form on his forehead. "Are you sure you're not hiding her in your apartment?"

"W-what?!" A furious blush adorned Gray's cheeks. "Why would you think that?!"

He must have looked so exasperated as both girls broke into a fit of laughs.

"I'm just kidding, Gray. You're so fun to tease," Lucy said, while Erza placed her hand on his forehead and said, "I think your fever shot up again."

"Sh-shut up," Gray said, swatting Erza's hand and reverting to his usual poker face. He took a seat and grabbed one of the plates, taking a mouthful of rice in his mouth. Now that Juvia wasn't within arm's reach, he was starting to feel hungry. After all, it had been more than 12 hours since he last ate.

And Juvia, too.

"Look, I'm grateful for all your help, but I'd really like to be alone and rest," he said, trying to sound as convincing as possible. "I can totally handle myself."

"Aww, don't be like that! We were just teasing you," Lucy said as she sat next to him. She took the other plate of curry and started eating. "This is really good! I haven't tasted Juvia's curry before."

Noticing that Lucy was eating Juvia's share, Gray blurted, "Don't eat that!"

Lucy just rolled her eyes. "Chill lover boy, there's more than enough here for everyone."

"Can't believe you're not just overprotective of Juvia. You're also super protective of her food," Erza taunted as she got her own plate and started putting food on it.

Gray sighed. What should I do to make these two leave?

"Yeah, you're all protective but you're not doing anything about it. Juvia is a patient girl, but you never know when she'd get tired of waiting for you."

"Might be soon." Gray glowered at Erza, but she ignored him and added, "Mira saw her giggling and blushing at her lacrima several times while we were on a mission."

"Come to think of it, you're sick, yet she left on a three-day mission?" Lucy surmised and Erza nodded. "Perhaps she already found someone who would actually appreciate her."

Gray balled his fists under the table. Even though his friends had no idea that he was actually the one Juvia was talking to via lacrima during their mission, he couldn't help but feel a bit mad that they would think Juvia's affections would sway that easily.

"Juvia would never betray me," he snapped before he could even think.

"Betray you?" Lucy raised her eyebrows.

"Why would you call it betrayal? Is she your girlfriend?" Erza narrowed her eyes at him.

"Juvia's not my girlfriend! I don't care about her!" Gray blurted.

It was really more out of impulse than anything else, but he immediately regretted his words when he heard a loud crash from his bedroom.

"What was that?" Erza asked, a sword suddenly materializing in her hand. Lucy grabbed her keys, and both girls stood up and went to the direction of Gray's bedroom.

Oh, fuck.

Gray jumped in front of the two girls with outstretched arms, blocking their way. "Calm down! I'll go check it."

"No, you stay here," Erza said in that no-nonsense tone that would have normally made Gray freeze on the spot, if Juvia's life (and their secret relationship) weren't on the line. He grabbed her arm.

"That's my bedroom, okay? I'll check and you'll both stay here."

It all happened so fast. One moment he was holding onto Erza's arm, and the next thing he knew, she had escaped from his grasp and was heading towards his bedroom just as Lucy turned the knob...

"Stop!"

"Gotcha!" Lucy yelled as she barged into Gray's bedroom, the requip mage right behind her. Erza's eyes darted from the bed to the closet to the tightly shut windows, like a predator looking for its prey. Lucy pulled back his messy sheets and opened his cabinet with a vigor that he seldom saw in the woman. Why does she look so excited?

There was no trace of any living creature anywhere.

A wave of relief washed over Gray when the two women stopped rummaging around his room. Still, he couldn't shake off his worry as he thought of his girlfriend. Did she just manage to hide so well? Or was she attacked? Just the thought of someone laying a hand on Juvia made his stomach turn to knots.

"How could this fall for no reason?" Lucy wondered aloud as she picked up the intact plastic lamp on the floor right beside the bed. She also sneaked a peek under the bed, making Gray's heart thump loudly. But the frown on her face as she got up made it clear that she didn't find anyone there, either.

Sighing loudly, Gray said, "Alright, show's over. No one's here, so get out of my room and let me fix some stuff here." Erza and Lucy exchanged quick glances but didn't resist when Gray pushed them out of his room and slammed the door.

Alone at last, his eyes swept across his disheveled room. "Juvia, where are you?"

"In here, Gray-sama."

A small puddle leaked from under his bed, materializing into Juvia's body. She's safe. He pulled her up towards him.

"Great thinking. I really thought they're gonna catch us. Are you hurt?" Gray asked as he inspected her body. She didn't seem hurt or anything.

"Juvia's okay. She was just caught off guard so she accidentally toppled your bedside lamp." She smiled, but one look at her despondent eyes showed that it wasn't as simple as that. Something was bothering her.

"Was it... because of what I said?"

Honestly, Gray didn't mean anything by it. Saying that Juvia wasn't his girlfriend and that he didn't care for her that way had always been his default defense whenever he was being teased about her. And now it became a habit that wasn't easy to shake off.

When she didn't answer, he sighed. "Come on, you know what I said wasn't true. I just said those things to get them off my back." He captured her hands in his. "I'm sorry."

Smiling at him, she replied, "Juvia understands. Gray-sama should go outside, or Erza-san and Lucy-san would get suspicious."

She still had that forlorn look on her face, which reminded him of how much convincing he had to do when he first bared his feelings for her.

"Juvia's sorry for doubting you, Gray-sama. It's just that he has denied Juvia's love for so long that she finds this all hard to believe. What if she wakes up one day and realizes this isn't real?"

That was when he realized that even though Juvia took his rejections in stride, his words still cut her. He then promised himself to treat her better, not just in actions but also in words.

Even if she was the only one who heard it. She was the only one that mattered, anyway.

Gray moved his hands to her cheeks, cradling her face as they locked eyes. "Hey, you know me, right? You know how I really feel about you?"

Juvia nodded, but he knew the doubts still lingered.

"I love you, Juvia."

And even though he had lost count of how many times he already told her that, her eyes still shone with the same sparkle they had back when she heard those words for the first time.

"Juvia loves you too, Gray-sama."

He gave her a gentle kiss, which would have been perfect and magical were it not for a low grumble coming from Juvia's stomach. She giggled. "Sorry. Juvia's starving."

Gray opened his drawer and handed her a couple of candies. "It's the only edible thing I have here now, but I promise I'll make them leave right away so we can eat together, alright? Just stay quiet." He stole another quick kiss from his girl before he left, careful not to open the door too much.

He found Erza and Lucy huddled together on his couch, keeping their voices low as they talked. When the celestial mage noticed him approaching, she cleared her throat and said, "Hey Gray, are you feeling better already?" She walked towards him and caught his face between her hands, turning his head whichever way and inspecting his body as if looking for some wound or scratch or something.

That was weird alright, but he decided to shrug it off and just focus on the task at hand: kick his annoying friends out of his house.

"I'm good. Get off me," he answered, swatting her hands away. Moving right between the two girls, he draped his arms over their shoulders. "You know, I really appreciate your concern over me, but I can handle myself." He started pushing them towards the door. "I really, really, really want to rest a bit more though—" just a few more steps and he could already reach his front door—"so please leave."

Just when he was about to open the door, the redhead spun around and glared at him. "Hold it. Why are you so anxious to kick us out of your house?"

He froze. "W-well, I told you I'm okay already..."

"Are you sure?" Lucy said, facing him as well. She placed her hand on his forehead and pulled back immediately. "You're burning up!"

"No, I'm not."

He couldn't understand why they kept walking closer and closer to him with an excited look in their eyes. Taking huge steps back until he was almost right outside his bedroom door, he felt like a small kitty getting cornered by two hyenas.

Two crazy, vicious hyenas.

"Perhaps we could give you a sponge bath?" Lucy purred.

"Oh yes, just like when we were kids. I'm sure it'll make you feel all better," Erza added.

"What the hell is wrong with you two?!"

Before Gray could make a run for it, his bedroom door slammed open and a furious Juvia swooshed past him, pinning the two women to the opposite wall.

"LOVE RIVALS!"

But instead of getting scared by the dark aura coming from the water mage, Lucy clapped her hands and let out a delighted squeal. Erza, on the other hand, looked like she had saucers for eyes as she stared right back at the girl glaring daggers at them.

"I knew it!" Lucy yelled. She pointed to Juvia, then Gray. "You two..."

"So, the rumors are true..." Erza muttered to herself, still not believing what she was seeing.

Gray sighed. There was no use hiding things now. And he better do something before his girlfriend water slices two of his best friends.

"Alright, fine." He walked towards them and pried Juvia away from the two girls. "Juvia and I, we're together. Happy?"

That seemed to snap Juvia out of her jealous rage as her head whipped towards Gray. "Gray-sama?"

Lucy let out another squeal, cheeks pink with giddiness. "It's about time! But—" She punched Gray's bare arm.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"You didn't ask! It's not like I can just blurt it out in the middle of a conversation!"

"Of course you can!" Another punch. "How can you hide this huge thing from us? If Natsu hadn't told us, we wouldn't even know!"

"Natsu-san?" Juvia asked. "Did Gray-sama tell Natsu-san about us? Gray-sama told Juvia not to tell Gajeel-kun," she pouted.

"I didn't tell him, I swear! Why the hell would I tell that idiot about us?"

"Natsu overheard you talking to Juvia on your lacrima," Erza explained as she straightened her blouse and skirt. "Believe it or not, he was able to put two and two together and figure out that you two were dating."

She then narrowed her eyes at Gray. "And of course, it helped that he heard everything, Gray."

Juvia turned a bright tomato red, her hands flying to cover her mouth. Gray blushed, remembering the nights he spent during their last mission sneaking out of his and Natsu's tent, calling Juvia in secret just to ask her how she was doing. His flush deepened as he also remembered the not-so-innocent conversations he shared with Juvia when he thought everyone was asleep.

Damn that dragon slayer's hearing!

"There's just one thing I want to know," Erza said in her serious tone, which made both Gray and Juvia straighten. She cleared her throat. "Juvia... Gray didn't... forcefully take your flower, right?"

Gray, Juvia, and Lucy all turned as red as Erza's hair. Even Erza looked like she wanted to withdraw her very suggestive question as she couldn't stop the blood rushing to her face.

"Do you really have to ask, Erza?" Lucy whispered, her eyes fixed intently on the floor, finding it interesting all of a sudden. "I mean, just look at them..."

Gray gave out an indignant "Hey!" while Juvia literally had steam come out of her ears as she tried to cover her burning face with her hands. Thankfully, she had the presence of mind to wear Gray's boxers before storming out of his room, although Gray wasn't sure that the sight of them—him wearing only his boxers and Juvia wearing his clothes and not hers—could salvage their situation.

"W-well, o-of course I had to ask!" Erza reasoned amid her embarrassment. "I know I taught Gray how to respect women, but if he took advantage of Juvia in any way, I would—"

"Calm down, Erza-san," Juvia said, regaining her composure as she touched the requip mage's arm to try to diffuse the sinister aura starting to emanate from her. "Juvia swears that Gray-sama has been nothing but a gentleman to Juvia."

"Yeah, how could you even think I would take advantage of Juvia?" Gray asked, slightly offended. "We're both consenting adults and we know what we're doing!"

"And I am glad to know that." Erza firmly patted Gray's back, and he thought he was going to cough up blood from the impact.

"So..." Lucy teased, poking Juvia's cheek and smirking. "You two are doing it, huh? You owe us details on our next sleepover, Juvia!"

"Lucy-san!" an embarrassed Juvia exclaimed, once again burying her scarlet face in her hands. Lucy laughed, mumbling something about finally not being falsely accused of being a love rival anymore.

Now that everything was out in the open, Gray cleared his throat and hollered, "Okay, now that we're all good, can you leave us alone now?" He escorted the two girls towards the door once again, and this time, they complied without any protests, finally leaving the couple to their much-awaited alone time.

Gray slumped on his couch. "I'm sorry about all that, Juvia."

"It's not your fault, Gray-sama," Juvia said as she sat beside him and rested her head on his outstretched arms, Gray instinctively pulling her closer. "The whole guild would most likely know about Gray-sama and Juvia before this day ends."

"Yeah."

Juvia sneaked a peek at Gray. "Is Gray-sama okay with that?"

"Well, it's bound to come out sooner or later, right?" Gray answered nonchalantly.

"Juvia is sorry."

Gray looked at his girlfriend, surprised to see her looking a bit down, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. "Why?"

He barely caught what she whispered. "Juvia knows Gray-sama doesn't want anyone to know."

And then, it hit him.

Taking her hand in his, he lifted her chin with his other hand so that she could look at him. "Did you seriously think I'd keep you a secret forever?"

When she didn't reply, he continued. "It's not that I didn't want anyone to know. I just didn't want to make a big deal out of it, announcing it and everything. I thought it would come out naturally, like people would just notice. And I certainly didn't want them to find out this way," he said as he gestured towards their half-naked forms.

Juvia giggled. "Gray-sama probably should not have called Juvia during his mission."

"As if you won't call me," he smirked.

"Juvia just didn't want Gray-sama to miss her too much," Juvia said as she nuzzled closer to him.

"Is that so? But I clearly remember a certain someone jumping into my arms the moment she saw me and telling me how much she missed me."

"And she definitely heard a certain someone say that he missed her, too," Juvia retorted, eyes gleaming at him. "He couldn't even get his hands off Juvia..."

"Hey—"

Juvia shut him up by pressing her lips on his for a long, loving kiss. When they finally went up for air, Gray whispered, "How about we continue where we left off earlier?"

"You mean our late lunch?" Juvia asked innocently.

"Not hungry." But just as Gray said that, his stomach grumbled.

"Oh, really?" Juvia cocked her eyebrows. "Come on, Juvia's hungry, too." With that, she dragged him towards the kitchen, leaving no room for complaints.

Gray let Juvia lead the way, watching her hair flowing down her back like soft ocean waves, all the way down to her long, flawless legs. He smiled.

"Alright. But I'm having you for dessert."

A/N: This came out WAY later than I expected. It was one of those stories that started out really good in my head, but the actual writing process turned out to be a pain in the neck. Now I'm just embarrassed to tag this as Gruvia Week 2021 because I'm more than a month late, lol. But I still would because I'm shameless like that, haha.

#gruvia week #gruvia #gruvia fanfic #gruvia fanfiction #gray x juvia #gray fullbuster #juvia lockser #fairy tail

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ohheyitsokay · 3 years

Text

classic

pairing: Jack Daniels (Agent Whiskey) x reader

wordcount: 3k

warnings: none, tropes on tropes on tropes, weird descriptions of things

summary: good, old fashioned fan fiction chaos

notes: there’s no getting around it - everything I write with Jack is inevitably influenced and inspired by @scribbledghost s version of him, particularly her neighbor!whiskey. I tried not to, but I still feel I should give credit!

It was the kind of razor your grandfather would have used – more of a knife than anything, because of course it was.

Of course this would be edge that your housemate used to slide along his jaw and chin and cheeks to make that perfect mustache before work in the mornings. He was the type to love old fashioned, traditional, dangerous things - it made sense. After all, that was why you were staying in the guestroom of his ranch home while your apartment was being renovated. Old fashioned courtesy between friends, of course.

Dangerous.

Jack had caught you watching him, impressed in spite of yourself as the sharp blade scraped over his neck, neatly slicing the hairs on his throat, and pushing your heart into yours. It was unnecessarily intense, dramatic, the touch of risk for the sake of vanity. It made you swallow, awed that he wasn’t covered in little cuts, and almost aroused at how casually he used something so akin to a weapon. And that alone made him smirk, cocky, as though he had been waiting for you to notice, hoping to impress you.

A few days later he’d coaxed you to him, settled in a chair with his legs spread wide with confidence as he handed you the tool, smug with confidence – almost a challenge. He had gotten wrecked at work – he actually had, and it was the perfect excuse to draw you close, make you bend to his will. Schoolyard tactics, really, but all of this was, and it was worth it to have your eyes on him alone, face a breath away from his.

It was about trust more than anything. Not that you would ever hurt him, but the power of being over him was heightened by the intimacy as you lathered the cream over his skin.

His deep eyes bore into you, not flickering to the blade as you tried to focus on your task. If he had asked you a different time, another day, you maybe could have refused, but somehow his wanting your steady hand felt heavy with implication.

Ignoring the quickening steps of your heart, your fingers grasped his chin, shaving away the stubble he’d let grow just for this. Each slice of smooth skin revealed left a thick line of froth and hairs on the blade, and you got to breathe as your turned away to wipe it off. You could feel his gaze, still, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet it. Hovering over him while he was seated, touching his jaw, leaning close, and meeting those brown eyes would have been too much.

Your denial was as a solid as a wall with half sunk into the ground with cement – almost rooted in your fear of rejection.

It was a challenge to ignore the shots of adrenaline that filled you when he’d reach around you to grab something in the fridge, his chest against your back, hand on your hip. Already you had shoved down the butterflies in your stomach when he’d offered you a place to stay, carried your boxes, and called you sweetheart. You had spent far to long ignoring the way he hadn’t brought a single girl home since you’d been there to fold now and admit anything. Because if you did, there was a chance you would lose your friend forever, and that was out of the question.

You kept your eyes down to keep your hands steady.

For his part, Jack’s plan was only half working. He liked your attention, liked the way your breath hitched as you wiped him clean. But you were closer than you had ever been, patting in the aftershave and you wouldn’t look at him, wouldn’t open the door for him to push the tools and towels aside and kiss you. All he wanted was to grab hold of you and pull you into his lap and make you melt against him but there wasn’t a moment.

You’d been friends for a long time, been there for each other countless times and he had yearned for you almost as long. At first, he tried to deny it too, grabbing at random women and hating himself when he imagined they were you as he pulled them into his room.

Then he’d given that up, stopped pretending anyone could replace you, that anyone else occupied his dreams, anyone else could be as good a fit for him, and went after you full speed. It had honestly been innocent to invite you to stay, instinct instilled in him from his childhood. Still, he had begun to see the opportunities for the two of you to enjoy intimate domesticity right away, when he’d cooked you dinner and you’d talked at his table for hours, finally not worried about having to drive home. He ached for that – not ever really having to leave you, and he spent more nights than he’d like to admit thinking of knocking on your door.

Only… you were still in your denial phase. Not sleeping around just pretending it was normal to sink into his arms after a bad day, to let your friend play with your hair until you fell asleep, to watch his lips as you gently helped him shave.

It was too vulnerable, to high of a risk to go after you with the chance that you weren't ready. The last thing he wanted was to scare you away.

“What, really?” you said, genuinely surprised. When you’d accepted to stay, he’d promised you there would be no problems, but now you felt guilty.

His mama was coming to town, and would more than likely be staying with him.

“I’ll find somewhere else!”

Jack was already shaking his head at you, like you were missing the joke, but he looked… almost nervous? You couldn’t tell, it wasn’t something you saw on his face often.

“Actually, sweetheart, I was hoping you could do me a favor,” he was asking, but it’s not like you could actually say no you him, when he shot that winning smile your way. It was like not petting a puppy – and you were the opposite of allergic to cowboy secret agents.

“You know Mama Daniels,” he said and you smiled, having spent many a summer helping her in her garden, and being thanked with dinners heavy with butter and love. “She’ll like you here, she’ll be over the damn moon.” And you conceded. It would be more than nice, to spend time with such a wonderful woman, an Jack had invested in a very comfortable couch. For a week you enjoyed a hopeful bliss, that she would help remind you Jack was just your friend.

The sun was shining through the windows, the winding almost singing a quiet, breathy song, and everything was as spotless as you could manage. Well worn quilts were clean, and you had set up a little station for yourself in the living room determined to make it your home for the week.

Then she came with a jacket that matched her slacks and shoes with little buckles and a paisley suitcase full of presents for her son, who she insisted wasn’t really grown. She hugged you and scolded you for being at work instead of coming to pick her up, and finally settled at the kitchen table, her intentions clear. You were to sit and catch up - Jack was already pulling the sweet tea you’d made from the fridge and a reused sewing tin filled with butter cookies appeared out of her purse.

Meekly, you sat, knowing if you didn’t eat the cookies in quantity, she would pout her whole visit. You could feel Jack settle at your side as she talked, warm and solid, a comfort, despite the heat of the day.

The cookies disintegrated on your tongue, melting with a burst of sweet before the bite was gone. They were full of love and maternal affection and things that you hated to spend money on and made all bad thoughts disappear. You were thankful your mouth was full of one when she mentioned, offhandedly, how plum delighted she was when she found out the two of you were finally dating. Abruptly, you remembered just how wrong your previous hope was.

The sweet lady had been hinting for you to marry her son since before he’d mastered his first lasso, and apparently, she was sure that moment was well on its way.

“And living together, no less!” she was beaming with pride, tradition apparently irrelevant as she chatted happily about it.

Turning to the man by your side, you found him choking, trying to breathe through the cookie he’d accidentally inhaled. There was a white ring around his irises as he stared at you, panicking and aptly confused. Sure your face matched his, you jerked your head at his mother, a silent argument ensuing.

Did you do this?

No!

What do we do?

We can’t break her heart!

It went unnoticed. You felt helpless, drinking your tea and trying not to have a small meltdown in front of a very misinformed lady who had brought you cookies.

He was your friend! And sure, you liked the weight of his arm around your shoulders or could get lost in the drawl of his voice but that was normal! It was normal to be so comfortable with him as the beginning, end, and highlight to each of your days.

Sounding weak even to yourself, a crack, solid and formidable, formed in the wall you created to protect yourself and the friendship you had built.

“Ma’am, I’ll be back in a moment,” you whispered, grabbing your phone as you grasped at air, hoping beyond logic that you could pretend it was an important call.

You didn’t exactly run away, but you walked very quickly outside, mourning the loss of your little guestroom, and the privacy it offered.

Jack would never, ever smack his mama but he did want to say some choice words. Nothing could have prepared him for the last two minutes of his life, first the embarrassment of the misunderstanding and then… the fear in your eyes.

He hated it, hated it so much more than he ever thought he could, hated that it was probably his fault it was there. And he hated that it shrouded the longing he had begun to see there, these past few weeks. Long strides carried him after you, hearing his own voice distantly saying words, explaining maybe, as he left the table.

There was a tree, trunk too wide to wrap your arms around, thicket of leaves creating bean-shaped shadow on the ground, by one corner of his home.

You were behind it, almost like a child, letting the bark press lines into your forehead. The dappled lighting did wonders for you – you looked the perfect picture of a storybook wanderer in distress.

Jack slowed, overwhelmed with the desire to encompass you in his arms, slay your dragons, and whisk you away. Now was not the time.

He kept his voice soft, reaching for you in place of his hands, trying hopelessly to find the root of your panic.

You were just as quiet, telling him it was fine, you would pretend, as long as you’d talk tonight, after she went to sleep. His heart was creating dramatic movie scenes where you would float into his room, declaring your love for him, before settling in his arms, but he shook them away, agreeing.

Smile over-bright, you touched his smooth cheek a moment too long, before pushing past him back towards the house.

He allowed the afterglow of his daydream to wash over him only a moment before he jogged go catch up with you.

The quilt on Jack’s bed had chickens on it, of all things. It was one of those that had clearly been homemade, years and years ago, taken care of, but worn at the edges with memories and use. One pillow had a dent for his head, the other was squashed into an unrecognizable shape

You didn’t know that it wasn’t like that, before. That his arms had only started searching for something to hold onto since you had been around.

All of his room was new to you – it made you feel strange, realizing that for weeks you’d been in his home but not this part of his space.

The afternoon his mother came, he’d been called into the field. You had never quite seen the look on his face as he reasoning fell on deaf ears – desperation and frustration like ants ruining honey on a picnic. The flannel across his back bunched as his shoulders had filled with tension before he stripped it off to change into his work clothes. Jack kissed his mothers cheek and spewed instructions for the both of you, some apologies spilling out and others kept just behind his eyes as he grasped your hand.

His final command was for your ears alone - that you take his room, and you’d been too panicked to refuse. The last three days, the smell of him and the memorabilia scattered around the space kept you company when his mother went to sleep and you slept in his bed for the first time, alone.

It was surprising how sentimental he was. His hooks had another cowboy hat on them, a little wider, brown, and considerably more worn. There was a stack of printed photos in a little box by his bed – it was open, and some of the photos had oil-worn fingerprints along the edges. You found ones of you, and your heart flipped inside your chest.

You should have realized it was impossible to deny yourself, your feelings, with him surrounding you like this. Each thing you learned, each reminder of him practically reached off of the walls, as if he were there, coaxing your heart into his hands. It felt silly, almost, that you even tried to ignore it - you had missed him the moment his hand left yours. Now you had all the time to process, surrounded by his neatly folded shirts and the line of his favorite boots.

The idealized illusion of your relationship had only lasted half a day of living with his mother. Her warm brown eyes were too much like her son’s – you couldn’t lie to them. It was good though, for her to hold your hand a listen to you talk as the birds gossiped outside the window and steam seeped out of the pie you helped her bake. Miraculously, she wasn’t disappointed with you, commending your honestly, and explaining that if she was patient until now, then she could certainly continue to do so.

The more you talked to her, the more you suspected that she was right, all along. She helped you dig up the walls, her kind determination the shovel you needed for those concrete roots.

You would work and talk and tuck yourself into his chicken-clad blanket at night and finally, finally let yourself think of him, allow yourself to be in love with him. You didn’t know he had started actually living in his room again, when he’d started letting himself love you. That he thought of your smile when he’d found his old quilt. Still, the more you thought, the more you could admit to yourself that maybe, just maybe, he loved you too.

That was how Jack found you - absorbed in your thoughts - the whiskey in his hand as forgotten as the mission and the agent he’d played for the past seventy eight hours and twenty one minutes.

He watched through the half open door, words failing him as you sat up, startled and the way your eyes searched for injuries made him want to eat you alive.

There was nothing that could’ve prepared him for the sight of you in his bed, even though he had told you to be there and three days to daydream about it. It was intensely intoxicating, having someone care for you so intimately.

With his sheets sliding down around your waist, you looked as good as the pie on the counter, as if a single snapshot could encompass everything he wanted home to be.

You were wearing a shirt he’d given you, years ago, and he swallowed, hard.

“Are you up for that talk?” his voice was rough. It would have been nice, to relish in the feeling of you checking him over, attention on him as he unwound, but he couldn’t wait. This moment was three days overdue.

“I told your mom we aren’t dating,” you blurted and he smiled, having guessed as much. Smoothing the blanket, your hand patted the spot next to you, your legs crossing.

In that, Jack knew something had changed since he left you. The flickering fear had fled your eyes, and you seemed settled into your skin more than ever before.

He sat next to you, having played over how this talk would go a million times, and still not finding the right words. Confidence was easier to find when he was flirting, poking at you, but seemed foreign in the din lights of his bedroom. Instead he shifted trying to lean back with his arm along the headboard, hoping he didn’t seem like a teenager trying to buy himself time.

You began to talk, saving him, and all the things you’d processed with his mama tumbled out of you before you were realizing that you were confessing how much he truly meant you. In hindsight, it shouldn’t have been strange how comfortable you felt, but in the moment, you were in awe.

Jack was as handsome as always, if a little roughed up, like he’d worn the same clothes a few days in a row. You wanted to run your fingers over the short, patchy beard he had going, and without a second thought, you did, feeling his cheeks move as he smiled crookedly and leaned into the touch.

There was only a moment of quiet, crickets outside, before he said, “I missed you, too.” And then, “Will you stay, sweetheart?”

When you whispered, “Where else would I go?” he kissed you.

It was late, and there were still words unsaid, questions to be answered, but you both let yourselves get lost, exploring each other. Long moments passed, letting all the pent up yearning overflow like cool water after a long, hot day. Then the next steps came out, whispered between kisses and as he moved over you, shucking the final walls between you, you found yourselves actually dating, and maybe even actually living together.

Old fairy tales and historic romances played in the back of your mind, inserting their logic into your life like had never quite made sense before.

And you wondered if you had time in the morning, and his mama didn’t give you too much grief, if he would let you help him shave, and eat pie for breakfast. Because for the life of you, you couldn’t think of a single reason why not.

Taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @0celestialbitch0 @beautyagegoodnesssize

#this got away from me #jack daniels x you #jack daniels x reader #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #kingsman #maybe i don't know people

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south-park-meta · 3 years

Note

Bunny w/ Mamihlapinatapei if you like that, otherwise Style?

I don't like Bunny tbh but it's fine, there aren't many pairings I hate too much to try writing! (I included Style too though because I'm a simple person).

Mamihlapinatapei - The look between two people in which each loves the other but is too afraid to make the first move.

"I know now that you won't remember, the next time you see it. I just need you to believe me, before we...start anything."

"I believe you," Butters says immediately. He considers, then says, "Y'know, I think we all die a little. It's the comin' back that matters."

Kenny's always been good at reading people. Stan's good at it, too. It's one of the defense mechanisms that they've picked up together but separately. Kenny learned it as part of conflict resolution; it's important to read the mood at home, to decide if he and his siblings should leave the room or if it'd be better to just flick on the TV. If he had to guess, he'd say that Stan got good at reading people at home, too. Neither Stan nor Shelly have ever been hit by their parents-- Kenny doesn't think they were spanked as kids, never mind gotten in a fist fight the way Kevin did sometimes with his dad. But violence isn't the only thing that does it. Stan knows if someone's safe to drive with or if they're going to weave between lanes. He knows the exact way to play babysitter to draw someone back from a nutty scheme. He knows how to mold himself to seem like less trouble to make things easier, when it matters.

Their experiences are different but the same, when it comes to picking up those little hints of a person. The cues that most people don't have reason to learn.

Kenny notices the shift, when Stan and Kyle fall in love with each other. He's always figured they'd end up together, once they figured their own shit out. Over junior year the way they look at each other changes-- not overnight, but not slowly, either, like it's shifting with the seasons. He actually thinks they're together when Stan starts talking about prom.

Except then Stan asks if he wants to skip it to play video games.

Kenny furrows his brows. "Is this a 'Poor Kenny' thing?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," Kenny says. Then he stops for a moment to consider which way to take it. His guess is that Stan's feeling sorry for him, because prom's kind of expensive if you do it right. Even doing it a little wrong is more expensive than what Kenny has. It's a hard thing to traverse, though, because if he's honest he likes it when his friends recognize the difference in what they all have to spend. The pop he's drinking is one Stan bought him. But there's a difference in wanting to tag along to McDonald's and maybe, every now and then, letting his friends order a happy meal for him, and wanting his friends to skip out on milestone moments just to play video games. "How come you and Kyle aren't going together?"

"We could," Stan agrees, holding his bottle of Fanta by the neck and spinning it in a lazy circle. Kenny knows he gets the glass ones instead of plastic because it makes him think of beer bottles. It's hard to tell if that scratches an itch or tickles at it. "But we'd just be hanging around, anyway. Same shit, different place."

"Or you could, you know, dance?"

Stan stops spinning his bottle. "With Kyle?" he asks.

He sounds so baffled that Kenny's actually almost surprised they don't need an extra step of 'With who?'

Which makes Kenny baffled, too. "Why not with Kyle?"

"Because we're not dating?"

"Is that a question?" Kenny asks. And before Stan can answer he says, "I thought you were. Finally." It seems like something they'd forget to tell him just because they've been half-dating for so long.He still can't stop himself from making snide comments when they box him out now and again, but when it comes to this--he hadn't even been offended, thinking they'd forgotten.

"Well. We're not."

"So ask him."

"Why would I do that?"

"Why the fuck wouldn't you do that?" Kenny demands. "I love you, Stan, but you're really stupid sometimes."

"Hey," Stan says, but he doesn't sound very offended.

"I know you love him."

"Okay," Stan says, "I love him."

Kenny waits a beat, but Stan doesn't keep going, which is a little maddening. "And he loves you."

"Not like that."

"Yes like that."

Kenny can tell he's not telling Stan anything he doesn't already know, the way he frowns and looks away.

"Why don't you ask Butters, then?" Stan snaps, peevish, looking at his feet. "If you're so smart. He'd go with you."

"Because," Kenny says.

Stan huffs through his nose and opens his eyes a little wider in a way that says, See? And man, maybe Kenny's a hypocrite, but Stan is a smug hypocrite, which is definitely more annoying.

"Fuck you," Kenny says.

"Fuck you, too," Stan says. They sit in silence for a moment and Stan takes another drink of Fanta. Another moment of silence and he says, "You should ask him, though, for real."

Maybe Kenny should, for real. Stan still doesn't like Butters much after all these years--Butters doesn't like Stan much, either-- so Kenny knows it's nothing Stan would suggest if he didn't think it was something that would make Kenny happier. "If I do, you have to talk to Kyle."

"Sure thing, Ken," Stan says. He's still got smug in his tone, like he's agreeing because he knows this is a bet he won't lose.

And it's still kind of annoying, mostly for the 'Ken' that Stan rarely uses except to be condescending, but only for about half a second. Stan can get up his own ass sometimes around Kenny for the same reason Kenny knows he can be petty, bitchy, around Stan. Kenny knows he can't claim a spot at the Super Best Friends table, but they've been regular best friends since they were three. They know each other's entire humanities, even the ugly bits. It's good sometimes, to have a place for the ugly.

They shoot the shit a while longer and then part ways. Stan takes both their empty bottles to recycle them.

Kenny goes over to Butters' house afterwards. He tells himself it's for Stan and Kyle's sake, or at least to force Stan to admit he doesn't have the guts, but he knows well enough he's using them as an excuse. He knocks on the door and waits.

"Kenny!" Butters greets him, bright-eyed. It's really hard to take someone looking at him like that. Like he's the only good thing in all of South Park.

"Hi," Kenny says. "Can I come in?"

"I'll come out," Butters says. "Your shoes are kinda muddy. Y'know my parents would throw a fit."

Kenny doesn't look down at his shoes. It's true, and he doesn't really mind Butters saying so. Even if he does think he could wipe his shoes clean enough.

They take a walk down to Stark's pond. Butters takes his hand halfway there. Kenny slows his pace to make sure it lasts a little longer just in case Butters wants to skip rocks. He doesn't let go, though, once they get there. They sit there holding hands and looking at the water.

"I need to tell you something. Then I need to ask you something," Kenny tells the water.

"Mm, all right," Butters says. His tone stays pitched up, chipper, but Kenny can hear the anxiety stretched underneath, like a safety net waiting to catch someone's fall. "Shoot."

"Well," Kenny says, deciding to back track a bit, because he doesn't like that anxiety. There are too many kids in South Park that have it sitting dormant under their voices, and he likes it least of all on Butters. "I want to ask you to prom. But I need to tell you something first."

The tension slides out at that and Butters smiles wide. "You're doing it all backwards, then, ain't'cha?"

"I do a lot of things backwards," Kenny says, "But you'll go with me? If I ask."

"Sure, I will!"

That doesn't surprise him, for the same reason he knows Stan won't be surprised if he asks Kyle-- or Kyle, if he asks Stan. "I need to tell you," Kenny starts again, "That I die a lot."

Butters tips his head. He looks at Kenny, eyes asking him to continue.

"I know it sounds crazy," Kenny says, "But you've seen me die. You've all seen me die. I used to die every day. And then I came back, and you'd all forget." He pauses as he stares at the lake. There are concessions he's learned he has to make, since the frustrated years of his childhood spent killing himself over and over again, intentionally and not. "I know now that you won't remember, the next time you see it. I just need you to believe me, before we...start anything."

"I believe you," Butters says immediately. He considers, then says, "Y'know, I think we all die a little. It's the comin' back that matters."

"Yeah?" Kenny knows Butters doesn't mean the physical, the way he does, but he also knows that Butters knows he does mean the physical.

"Yeah. I feel it, when part of me dies. Why, there's been times-- there's been times I figure enough of it's gone and died, that I ought to just end it all!" He's not just talking about Reality, and Kenny knows that, too. He's talking about the bits and pieces that have been killed by his parents, by the other students, by South Park as a whole. "But you come back to life. And if you work real hard at it, you come back stronger than before. It gets better...You said it doesn't happen every day anymore, didn't'cha?"

Kenny nods his head. He's a little surprised, that Butters had caught that with his saying it 'used to' be every day.

"Well, maybe someday it won't be happening at all, anymore. Maybe you're coming back stronger and stronger and it won't keep getting you. Not until it's supposed to."

"I'd like that," Kenny says, smiling.

"I'd like to go to prom with you," Butters says.

Kenny nods very fast. He wants, at that moment, more than just prom. He wants every life and every death with Butters. He wants them to go, hand-in-hand the way they are now, and face as many deaths and revivals as they have left in them, together.

#South Park #sp bunny #sp style #stan marsh #kenny mccormick #butters stotch #kyle broflovski #tbh idk how well this fits the prompt but i tried lmao

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jenoptimist · 3 years

Text

you may have only gotten half a pudding cup but you got yourself a real life Disney Prince, so who’s the real winner?

✮ Pairing: kunhang x reader (gender neutral)

✮ Genre: fluff

✮ Word count: 5.8k

♡ Yakult says: hendery!!!!in!!glasses!!!!!!! pls i love him sm 🥲

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There was a phone number in you calculus textbook that you were one hundred percent sure you never wrote down. Not that you could, anyway, considering that it was a library book. Well, no, techincally you could write it in but you wouldn’t dare. The longer you stared at the handful of digits, the more you freaked out. You absolutely could not afford to be fined! The whole reason why you borrowed it from your college library was so that you didn’t have to spend money in the first place!

After gathering your materials and stuffing them into your bag, you hurriedly left your local library. You fished your phone out of your pocket, scrolled through your – admittedly pathetically short – list of contacts and called the person who you suspected wad the source of your small dilemma.

“‘Sup?” Yangyang greeted.

“Be honest with me,” you said seriously, immediately cutting to the chase, “were you the one who wrote the number?”

There was a beat of silence, and then, “what number?”

“You know,” you urged as you neared the apartment complex that the two of you lived in. “The one in my calculus textbook? I borrowed it from the college library and I don’t want to get into shit if they find it.”

“That wasn’t me!”

“Oh really?” You asked in disbelief as you hopped into the elevator and punched the number to your floor. After what you dubbed as, ‘The Spaghetti Incident of 2018’ you could never be too sure with him. When he replied that he didn’t, you asked him another two times. Throughout your friendship with Yangyang, you found that the trick to getting him to admit the truth was to keep badgering him until he either: got fed up or thought that whatever he did was no longer funny.

“I swear on my Hot Wheels!”

You hummed in consideration. His Hot Wheels collection was his utmost pride and joy - second only to his large sneaker collection - especially since he owned a handful of exclusive and rare ones. They were all displayed neatly on several shelves on one of the walls in his bedroom. They were even color coordinated and everything! Sometimes, when you went to offer him some food, you found him staring at them with a wide smile, his eyes full of admiration.

“Oh,” you frowned as you grabbed your keys from your jacket pocket but before you could slot your key into the lock, the door opened. Yangyang, the dork, greeted you over the phone even though he stood in front of you, a boyish grin displayed on his face. You rolled your eyes, not able to smother your smile as you hung up and stepped inside, locking the door behind you. It was noticeably warmer than usual and the apartment smelled if something toasty, which only meant one thing. “Pizza?” You guessed confidently.

Just as he gave you an affirmative, the oven began beeping to signal that it was finished. As Yangyang brought everything to the coffee table in front of your couch, you slipped off your shoes, dropped your bag and shrugged your coat off. While he cut the pizzas into almost even slices, you grabbed two cans of soda from the fridge.

Although it was still piping hot, you couldn’t help but take big bites. Your slice of doughy goodness was diminished within seconds. Solving calculus problems did thay to you. It was your least favorite module of the semester and brought on a headache whenever you left your lectures.

“This is so good.” You remarked as you took another slice. You loved a good margherita from Dominos but there was nothing like a frozen pizza from your local supermarket—the additives was probably what made it delicious, the cheap price just happened to be a bonus. Yangyang definitely felt the same, seeing as how the two of you devoured both pizzas within minuts, silence taking over the room.

You took a sip of your soda after popping open the top. “I”–you didn’t like the mischief that danced in uour room-mate’s eyes–“dare you to call the number.”

In your haste to swallow it, the soda passed through your throat uncomfortably, as if it were a large stone. “Nuh-uh.” You said with a shake of your head. There was absolutely no way you were going to call that number! You were just going to forget that it was even there. Or maybe you would return the book and hope that the next unfortunate student who will borrow it would be the one to pay whatever fine they had for ‘defacing public property’, as the college liked to call it. You didn’t know how many people had a calculus module in their course but you sure hoped that it was a large number.

“Awh come on, y/n!” At the firm shake of your head, he folded his arms and pouted slightly. A moment of silence passed and then, “I’ll give you a twenty.”

You took another sip of your soda as you mulled it over. “How about a ten and your last mango pudding cup for a text?”

Yangyang sucked a breath through his teeth. “That’s a tough bargain.” You shrugged, he hogged the other five pudding cups for himself so if he really wanted you to call this mystery person, he would have to give up the remaining one. “Okay, what if I give you fifteen and we split the pudding cup.”

“Better than nothing.” You conceeded after a second of thinking it over.

Yangyang’s grin stretched from ear to ear as he held out his hand for you to take. Once you shook it, the two of you quickly cleaned up. Not even ten minutes later, the last pudding cup and two spoons were on the table along with the textbook, opened on the page with the number on it. Yangyang leaned closer to your shoulder, his head practically resting on top of yours as he watched you type in the number and text.

to: 13X XXXX XXXX

hey! i found ur number on a textbook i borrowed from the library so i thought i’d say hi i guess?

“Now we wait.” Yangyang said as he returned to his seat and opened the pudding cup. He handed you your spoon and the two of you dug in, eventually fighting for the last bit.

The reply came when you and Yangyang were watching Into The Spiderverse. Neither of you paused the movie when you heard the notification sound your phone let out—you had seen it countless times; twice when it was in cinemas and every so often whenever it was on Netflix.

You were slightly nervous about the reply, which was silly considering that you didn’t even know the person, but you opened up the text anyway so that it would be over and done with.

from: 13X XXXX XXXX

Hi. My friend just told me he wrote it in there before I transferred. I’d be grateful if you could rub it out or use correction tape to get rid of it. Also, please delete my number.

You pursed your mouth at the response. It wasn’t as if you were hoping to be best friends or anything but the prospect of befriending someone had definitely excited you. You had college friends but that was liferally what they were: friends who you only saw in college. None of them hung out with you outside of college and whenever you did offer, they would either say yes to humour you – which, unfortunately, was blatantly obvious – or came up with an excuse. Which sucked, for obvious reasons but you would survive. The only people you had actually managed to successfully befriend were Yangyang (because he was looking for a room-mate at the time) and his best friend, Dejun.

“Uh-oh,” came Yangyang’s voice. “What did they say?” He was quick to read the text after you turned your phone to show him the screen. “Whoever it is, they’re very, um,” he paused for a moment while he thought of a fitting description, scratching his head, “grammatically correct?” At your nod of agreement, he added, “at least he said ‘please’.”

You shrugged as you typed a quick reply. “I guess.”

to: 13X XXXX XXXX

sure thing

from: 13X XXXX XXXX

Thank you.

The two of you refocused your attention to the movie, the texts completely forgotten once you received his reply. Later that night, you did as you were requested and used correction tape to hide the number—which was written in neat, tiny green ink. You were aware that covering the numbers in correction tape would also be considered as ‘defacing public property’ too, but it was for the sake of the stranger’s privacy. It seemed as though you were the fiest to contact the number but, still, if you were in their position, you wouldn’t like your number to be in public property either.

As for the text, you took a screenshot of it for Yangyang, who asked for it so that he could show Dejun while he typed away in your groupchat, and then erased the number from your phone.

Two weeks later, you found yourself sitting at the study desk in your room, staring helplessly at the blank answer boxes of the calculus assignment you had been told to complete and submit before the end of next week. You wanted to cry in frustration as you redirected your gaze down to your notebook where you had been trying to solve the equations. The entire page was a mess and your desk was coverd with eraser bits. It had gotten to the point where some parts of the page had gone grainy, like it always did when you repeatedly erased something on the same area. There wasn’t a single problem that you managed solve—no matter how hard you tried. It was pathetic, really.

With a sigh, you decided to take the break that you had put off, not wanting to take one until you solved a problem (ha!) as a reward. Maybe you would rewatch the entire Twilight saga again (Dejun had managed to convince you to read the series a couple of months back and the movies had become something like a guilty pleasure of yours,) because it was clear that you were going absolutely nowhere.

Just as you had started Eclipse, you heard the door open but didn’t bother moving from your spot. In fact, you hadn’t moved since you started your movie marathon a few hours ago because you were all too comfortable buried inside your fluffy blanket on the couch.

“Perfect timing!” Dejun’s rich voice bellowed, “it just started.” There was the sound of socked feet running towards the couch and then he lifted your legs, sat down and laid them down on top of his lap.

“Hey Dejun.” You greeted, raising your hand for a high five.

When he slapped his palm against yours, he asked, “how’re you doing?”

Just as you opened your mouth to answer, Yangyang spoke up. “Judging from the Twilight marathon that’s going on,” there was a hissing sound of a can opening and the audible sound of him taking a quick sip of whatever canned beverage he was holding, “not very good.”

“Hey!” You exclaimed but your your friend only shrugged, smiling amusedly. “He’s right though,” you grumbled, “I’m really struggling with calculus at the moment.” Struggling was an understatement. You really wanted to pass it because you definitely didn’t want to repeat the exam. That would be a nightmare.

Dejun looked at you sympathetically before he made an affronted noise in his throat, one that you felt deeply in your soul as he turned to face Yangyang. “The Twilight saga is a cinematic masterpiece and you absolutely cannot change my mind.”

“Okay,” the blond replied, clearly up for the challenge. “But it’s not better than Shrek now, is it?”

“Shrek?” Dejun repeated incredulously. “Shrek is an iconic classic but the Twilight saga? Definitely on a different wavelength. The scene in New Moon where Bella just sits on her chair looking out the window soullessly? Perfection! It was a fantastic book to movie adaptation. And don’t even get me started on—”

“As thrilling as your debate is becoming,” you said, interrupting the point that the brunet was about to make, “I’d really love to continue the movie so I can hear young BooBoo Stewart say, ‘newest, bestest, brightest’ to help me feel a crumb of joy.” You were unable to find it in yourself to feel guilty about cutting in. They could take their debate somewhere else while you continued to wallow in your feelings of failure.

The pair read your mood easily and shrugged at one another in concession. Dejun patted your leg lightly in comfort as Yangyang jumped on the couch to sit on your other side, giving you a quick side-hug before focusing on the movie. It was silent up until Rosalie finished telling Bella her the story about her past.

“I’ve been thinking,” Dejun spoke up.

“Uh-oh.” Yangyang muttered playfully to you, his voice purposefully loud. You huffed out a laugh before lightly digging your elbow into his side, knowing that he’s had an awful share of ideas in the past.

Dejun stuck his tongue out at him but continued with what he began saying instead of retaliating. “Why don’t you text that person? The one whose number was in the textbook you borrowed? They must have done the module or something.”

You considered what he said seriously, even pausing the movie so that you could discuss it with him. “What if they didn’t though? What if it was their friend who borrowed the textbook? They did say that it was their friend who wrote it there.”

“Then you could just ask their friend for help.” Yangyang piped up. It was a statement that you couldn’t counter but that didn’t mean that you wouldn’t try to.

“I don’t have their number anymore,” you said to them. “They asked me to delete it, remember?”

“And that’s where you’re wrong,” Dejun told you as he reached into one of the pockets of his jeans and fished out his phone. Yangyang leaned over slightly and the two of you watched as Dejun quickly swiped his finger up his phone. “Here you go!” He said brightly, turning his phone so that you were facing the screen. And there it was: the screenshot that Yangyang asked you to take so that he could send it to Dejun. There was no way you could weasel your way out of this situation now.

“Okay,” you relented, “I’ll text them after we finish this saga.”

“If you text them after this movie, I’ll pay for take-out.” Yangyang bribed, eager for this idea to take place.

You weighed out the pros and cons briefly before agreeing with him. It would be a win-win situation: you would get take-out and a possible tutor. It seemed as if time moved quicker because the movie felt as though it finished within a few minutes. As Yangyang dialed the number for a local take-out place, you slowly typed out a text, him and Dejun watching you with hawk eyes.

to: 13X XXXX XXXX

hi! it’s me again. i know you don’t know me but could you please help me with calc? or your friend, whoever borrowed the textbook. please. i feel like my brain is melting

You flung your phone on the table, laid back down on the sofa and released a long sigh. It would be a lie if you said that you weren’t hoping that they would say yes. You were trying your best but it was as if your brain refused to coorperate with you when it came to calculus. If only Yangyang or Dejun were enrolled in the same course as you. It was often that you thoughr that wistfully, especially during times such as this.

It was when you were about to shove a huge lump of lo mein into your mouth that your phone lit up, indicating that you received a notification. You stuffed the noodles into your mouth and grabbed your phone off of the table, dropping your wooden chopsticks into the rest of your dish.

“What did they say?” Dejun asked as he bit into an egg roll.

“Depends,” you read out. “Would I get paid for it?” You practically exclaimed the last part. It was fair that they were wondering about payment after all, who would want to tutor for free? The thought of the amount in your bank account had you cringing, you couldn’t afford to pay for a tutor at the minute. Although, you couldn’t afford to fail your module, either. So it was a lose-lose sotuation. You sighed before shoving another chopstick full of noodles into your mouth as you thought of a reply, eyes never leaving your screen. “How can I say, ‘no I cant’t but I really need your help’ without sounding desperate?”

“You can’t.” Yangyang replied matter-of-factly, chewing on his mapo tofu.

to: 13X XXXX XXXX

no but u’d have my gratitude forever???????

from: 13X XXXX XXXX

Oh.

[typing. . .]

I’ll have to think about it.

[typing. . .]

Just kidding! I’ll help you out, free of charge. Would you like to do it over the phone or meet IRL?

You cheered loudly when their last text delivered. “I’m guessing they said yes?” Dejun said, smirking smugly. You nodded, grinning widely as your fingers flew on the keyboard in your phone.

to: 13X XXXX XXXX

omg ur a lifesaver!!!!! maybe over the phone?? it’ll probably be more convenient foe the both of us :)

from: 13X XXXX XXXX

Gotcha. We can discuss our schedule sometime tomorrow.

Your tutor, Wong Kunhang, was surprisingly really helpful. He was much more friendly than you thought he would be, immediately introducing himself after greeting you over the phone. For the entire three hours that the two of you were on the phone, he was nothing but the epitome of patience. Not only that, but he explained everything in a way that you could easily understand and even cracked a lame joke or two to break the tension whenever he noticed that you were becoming incredibly frustrated. By the end of the session, you felt microscopically better about calculus. While you couldn’t say that you were especially ecstatic for the upcoming lectures and assignments, it was safe to say that, while you had a long way to go, things were sort of looking up.

from: Wong Kunhang (tutor)

Same time next week?

to: Wong Kunhang (tutor)

definitely!!

[typing. . .]

also if ur comfortable with it can we pls video chat instead?? i think it would be much quicker than us sending each other pictures back and forth

from: Wong Kunhang (tutor)

That’s a good idea! I can’t believe we didn’t think of it earlier ahahaha.

As you worked through the practice problems that Kunhang prepared for you, you couldn’t help but sneakily stare at your phone to catch a glimpse of him repeatedly. It sure came as a surprise when it came time for the video call and you found yourself face to face with a Disney Prince who came to life. There was no other way to sum up how handsome he was. He somewhat reminded you of Prince Eric—what with his black hair, wide, bright eyes and kind smile. It wasn’t as if you thought or expected that he would he unnattractive. In fact, you hadn’t really wondered about what he would look like at all since you had a long list of priorities. None of which included thinking about whether or not you would find your tutor attractive.

But still. Kunhang was definitely one of those people who were blessed with beauty and brains. One of the Universe’s favorites, if you will.

“You good? Are you stuck on something?” You started at Kunhang’s voice, eyes flying from your phone to your page and back to meet his expectant look. You murmured a negative and resolutely kept your gaze on your work for the next half an hour to avoid a repeat of what had just jappened.

After nearly two months, the tutoring session had become a bi-weekly thing. Sort of. Somewhere in between you whining about every question but toughing it out and him encouraging you while also lightly teasing you, you and Kunhang became friends. One of the two sessions somehow always ended up with the both of you chatting, completely abandoning the unsolved equations in favor of getting to know one another, or, mostly recently, switching back and forth between the show that the two of you suggested to one another.

This week you would be tuning into his suggestion, Love Death + Robots. Kunhang would talk every now and again during some parts, especially when it came to his favorites, but you found that you didn’t really mind. Not when he sounded so (adorably) excited about it. The series itself was pretty good so far albeit short – six episodes in total, and the two of you were already on the fourth one – which meant that the you that you recommended (The Office because you were astounded that he hadn’t watched at least one episode) would soon become the primary source of entertainment since the two of you were only on season three.

As you stood in the snacks aisle, internally debating one which type of popcorn you should purchase (salted or buttered? the microwaveable kind or loose kernels? also, which brand? there were so many options, maybe too many,) your phone vibrated in your pocket. Swapping your basket from your non-dominant hand to your dominant one, you pulled out your phone and answered it.

“Hello?”

“Hey!” Kunhang greeted back brightly, “uh, so listen, I know we have our thing later but one of my sisters is moving out of her apartment and she asked me to help. Is it okay if we cancel?” The poor guy sounded super apologetic.

“Yeah, totally! Help her out!”–briefly, you thought about offering your assistance before deciding against it because that would be awkward and weird. Weirdly awkward. Awkwardly weird. Whatever–“I mean, it’s not like what we do is a set thing, anyway. I’ll probably ask the guys to hang out instead.” You eyed your basket full of snacks and made a mental note to grab the particular brand of potato chips that Dejun liked, already predicting that he would agree.

The silence that followed seemed to stretch on for hours on end. You would have assumed that the line dropped or went dead for some reason but you could definitely hear some shuffling sounds on the other side and, in a totally non-creepy way, Kunhang’s breathing.

“Right,” he finally replied, drawling the word out. There was another silence that felt extremely awkward. You wondered what facial expression he was making at the moment. It could have possibly clued you into what he as thinking. “Well that’s all I wanted to say I guess.”

“Oh,” you mumbled and then after a beat, you followed up with, “do you prefer salted or buttered popcorn? I’m trying to choose right now but I can’t decide.”

“Definitely salted. Buttered always leaves my mouth feeling weird.” You hummed while trapping you phone in between your ear and shoulder so that you could grab the generic box brand of microwaveable salted popcorn. The conversation carred on without anymore awkward pauses. You picked up a couple of items that he recommended every now and again, trusting his judgement. “Hey, you know what we should do?” Kunhang said as you queued up for the self-service checkout line, eyeing the items on display. When you hummed in response, he followed with, “we should hang out next week. In real life. We could do it on Sunday so you’ll still have one day of tutoring.”

It felt somewhat embarrassing that you agreed so quickly to his suggestion. You definitely should have played it cool but you had been meaning to ask him the same thing for a while now, so you were glad that he suggested it. “We can meet up at a café or something! Maybe have lunch? I’m paying, though!” It was only fair since he was helping you out for free.

“Lunch sounds good.”

“Great!”

“Great!” Kunhang mimicked, just as enthusiastically. “I’ve got to go but I’ll text you later?”

Both of you said your goodbyes then hung up. After tucking your phone back into your pocket, you made your way to the till that just freed up and began scanning your items. Once everything was paid for and bagged, you retrieved your phone to shoot a quick text in the group chat with Yangyang and Dejun, asking them if they felt like watching a movie franchise with you. They agreed, but only after Yangyang asked if ‘you’re weekly date with Kunhang got cancelled’ which earned him a picture of you flipping him off.

“Today’s the big date, huh?” Yangyang asked teasingly as you checked your appearance in the mirror once more, sprawled out on the couch as he made his way through his third mango pudding cup. From beside him, Dejun and Yukhei – the newest addition to your friend group since he and Dejun had to do an assignment together – gave your form an assessing once over.

Dejun, smiling mischievously, said, “obviously, can’t you tell by how nicely they’re dressed.”

You mock glared at the pair while Yukhei lightly slapped Dejun for his comment. Then he, bless his heart, beamed at you and said, “you look great!”

“Thank you,” you replied, smiling sweeting at him before addressing the other two, you firmly said, “and it’s not a date. We’re just hanging out, like the three, now four”–you corrected, glancing over at Yukhei–“of us do on a regular basis.”

“Oh, are they just a friend from your course then or something?” Yukhei asked curiously while Dejun and Yangyang hummed in unison, disbelief clear in their tones.

“No, it’s this guy, he helps me out with calculus. We’ve never met in person but he’s really nice.”

“I should hope so,” muttered Yangyang, peeling the seal off another mango pudding cup. “You’ve been crushing on him for a while now, so it would be a bummer if he wasn’t.” He said through a mouthful.

“Am not!”

“Are too!” Dejun countered for him.

“Am not,” Yangyang mimicked. “So what about all the times you’ve mentioned him then, huh?” And then he placed his pudding cup on the table, clasped his hands together by his cheeks and, in a voice that was meant to sound like yours, said, “‘oh, Kunhang told me this stuff is really good, we should try it out!’, ‘Kunhang is so smart!’, ‘can you believe Kunhang volunteers at the animal shelter and the nursery home as much as he can? Isn’t that so sweet?’, ‘Kunhang has such a Disney Prince smile!’. You gush about him all the time, it’s kinda sickening.”

You threw your arm out at him as you looked towards Dejun, hoping for some back up but you should have known better. They were your best friends after all. Dejun simply shrugged as he snatched a pudding cup from the coffee table and said, “to be fair, you do gush about him a lot. And! Whenever you text him, which most of the time, you get this goofy smile one your face.”

“Huh,” Yukhei mumbled, his tone full of thought. “This guy sounds a lot like one of my buddies.” The three of you looked at him with wide, curious eyes. When he noticed, he added, “it’s probably just a coincidence?” Although his tone suggested otherwise.

“Probably,” you replied as you grabbed your keys and shoved them in your pocket. “I’ve gotta get going or else I’ll be late.” You said as you made a beeline towards the door and slipped on the shoes you thought best suited your outfit. “Don’t wait up!”

“Why?” Yangyang replied just as you were about to close the door, playfulness evident in his voice, “I thought it was just lunch.” The other two cackled at that but you flipped him off and left the apartment, trusting that one of them would like the door behind you.

It was fortunate that you managed to catch the bus on time. After paying the appropriats fare, you made your way towards the back, earphones plugged in so that you could listen to some music along the way. Once seated, you took out your phone sent a text to Kunhang to let him know that you were on your way. His response was immediate, informing you that he was already nearby because his sister had asked him to run an errand for her, and asked you to text him when you were close.

Horizon was a cute little place that served as both a café and restaurant. It was sandwiched between a thrift shop and music store but, surprisingly, didn’t look the least bit out of place among the buildings. As you walked closed to it, you saw Kunhang standing by the entrance, bopping his head as he used his phone.

“Kunhang!” You called when you were close enough, after taking off your earphones and stuffing them into your pocket. Judging from the way he jolted slightly, you startled him. “Hey,” you greeted warmly when he removed his earphones. “You could have waited inside.”

Kunhang shrugged, a brilliant smile etched onto his face, “I thought it’d be easier if we walked in together.”

When you entered, you thought that you would have to find somewhere else to eat due to the amount of people present, but the staff who was waiting by the door only asked if you were eating in and then lead you to a table in the far corner of the room, right beside the window.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, y’know, in person.” Kunhang said as he browsed through the menu.

“You too,” you replied, peeking up from your own menu to find him wearing a hint of a smile. “I can’t believe it took us this long to be honest.”

Kunhang chuckled at that and nodded in agreement.

The meal seemed to fly by even though you left Horizon a little later than expected. You were still laughing as you headed out, thanking the waiter that served you one more time as you passed by him, at a story that Kunhang recounted that took place during his childhood. Although his texting style suggested otherwise, Kunhang was hilarious—which you knew already since he often made you laugh whenever you were on the phone with him, it was just a different feeling compared to the experience in person. You were almost sad at the thought of your time being over with him, until he jammed his hands into his pockets and, rocking back and forth on his herl, asked if you wanted to go get some ice cream since he knew a really good place nearby. And who were you to say no to that offer?

After fighting, again, over who would pay, the two of you roamed around for a bit, slipping into this store and that to window shop. Only when the stores began to close did you realize how late it had gotten. It wasn’t dark out, not yet, and you were surprised that several hours had passed since you first met up with Kunhang.

“Ready to call it quits?” You asked as the two of you began to make your way to where you would wait for your bus.

Kunhang shook his head and pointed somewhere behind you. “Let’s go to the playground over there. Race you.” And with that, he took off, leaving you to stare at him dumbfoundedly until your brain registered what he said and you ran after him.

“Cheater!” You huffed when you reached him, hands on your knees as you caught your breath.

Kunhang did nothing but through his head back and laugh at you. Attractively. It was something to ignore—his attractiveness, that was. But it was awfully difficult and all you could do was hope that he didn’t notice how you were looking at him. You couldn’t help it! Even though his outfit was relatively basic – just some gray-brown sweatshirt, black joggers and a pair of white sneakers – he looked effortlessly good. And it wasn’t just his appearance that made him attractive, either, oh no, because that just wasn’t enough. He also had to have an amazing personality.

“Let’s go over there,” he said after he sobered up, nodding towards the spring riders. “No racing this time.” He added with a wide grin. You weren’t able to suppress your own grin quick enough, rolling your eyes as you shoved his shoulder.

“I’m glad we met up today,” you admitted sincerely as you rocked back and forth on the spring ride. “You’re even better in person.”

Kunhang stopped rocking on his spring ride and looked at you. “I’m glad we met up today, too.” He told you with a smile that turned into one that was more sweet and shy as he said, “we should do it again some time, y’know, when we aren’t flooded with assignments and stuff.”

“Totally!”

“How about, maybe,”–Kunhang’s tongue darted out a sliver of his to wet his lips–“as a date?”

You stared at him in shock which he met head-on, that sweet, shy smile of his still present. You could feel a smile threaten to rise and you allowed it, messing with the hem of your top as you nodded in agreement. “That would be nice.”

“Really?” He asked, his tone both excited and unbelieving. When you assured him that you would be really looking forward to it, he said, “that’s– that’s great! I can’t wait, either.” Then, he jumped of his spring ride, held out his hand and pressed a feather light kiss to your knuckles like the Disney Prince he was when you placed your hand in his.

“We should probably head home.” You said, hand still in his. Kunhang never let go, so you figured he was okay with you interlocking your fingers and swinging your hands back and forth.

Like the gentleman he was, he waited for your bus with you and waited until you got on it, blowing kisses at you through the window. Your smile was so big your cheeks began to hurt as you pretended to catch the kisses.

(Later, after you had told Yangyang about how the day went swimmingly, you received a text from Kunhang and couldn’t help but huff out a small laugh. Your room-mate shot you a curious look so you let him read the text.

from: kunhang 💘

You know Yukhei?!?!?!!!!)

#this took a much different turn than i thought it would andnsk #but i hope it was worth the read #also question: do my fics ever sound like a self-insert???? like i mean not reader insert but like y/n is me if that makes sense????????#cause i sure hope it doesnt omg its not meant to be i promise #i’ve been thinking about it recently cause of this tiktok i watched 😫#but yeah anyways i keep listening to first love + good time on repeat #when mark says ‘ur my my’ and ‘tell me tell me’ and sichengs parts in good time 🥲🥲#sicheng’s parts in good time has been my sole reason for existance lately #i felt it so deeply that AND his insta post from 2 weeks ago affected me so much that i started a draft for him #but i also have drafts for other members that im like hmmmmmmm #although i havent done a sicheng fic since i wrote that pocket!sized sicheng fic and also the smau i started #(and kind of abandoned but i’ll get back to it in the summer maybe)#also 7dream cb 🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲#i’ll keep rambling if i don’t start typing the Official tags so here they are:#wayv #wayv scenarios #wayv imagines #wayv au #wayv fluff #wayv hendery #wayv kunhang #wong kunhang #hendery fluff #hendery imagines #hendery scenarios #nct #nct au #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct hendery

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snelbz · 4 years

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What Happens In Vegas... {4}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Feyre x Rhysand, Modern AU, fanfiction.

Summary: For Feyre’s twenty-first birthday, her best friend took her to Las Vegas for a weekend of fun she could never forget. She’s going home with a lot more than memories.

@snelbz / @tacmc collab

What Happens In Vegas Masterlist

Fanfiction Masterlist

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My neck had seized up. Pain shot through me as I slowly straightened and blinked the sleep from my eyes. I rubbed at the offending muscles, trying to get them to unlock. “Ow.”

Rhysand took one hand off the steering wheel and reached out, rubbing the back of my neck with strong fingers. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I must have slept funny.” I shuffled up in the seat, taking in our surroundings, trying not to enjoy the neck rub too much. Because of course he was crazy good with his hands. Mr. Magic Fingers coerced my muscles back into some semblance of order with seemingly little effort. I couldn’t be expected to resist. Impossible. So instead I moaned loudly and let him have his way with me

Being barely awake was my only excuse.

The sun was just rising. Tall, shadowy trees rushed by outside. Trying to get out of LA, we’d gotten caught in a traffic jam the likes of which this small town girl had never seen.

For all my good intentions, we hadn’t really talked. We’d stopped and gotten food and gas. The rest of the time, Johnny Cash had played on the stereo and I’d practiced speeches in my head. None of the words made it out of my mouth.

For some reason, I was reluctant to call a halt to our adventure and go off on my own. It had nothing to do with pulling up my big-girl panties and everything to do with how comfortable I’d begun to feel with him. The silence wasn’t awkward. It was peaceful. Refreshing, even, given the last day’s worth of drama. Being with him on the open road … there was something freeing about it. At around two in the morning, I’d fallen asleep.

“Rhys, where are we?” He gave me a sidelong look, his hand still massaging my muscles. A sign flew past outside. “We’re going to Velaris?”

“That’s where my place is,” he said. “Stop tensing up.”

“Velaris?”

“Yeah. What’ve you got against Velaris?”

“Nothing.” I backpedaled fast, not wanting to appear ungrateful. “It’s just a surprise. I didn’t realize we were leaving town. Velaris. Okay.”

Rhys sighed and pulled off the road. Dust flew and stones pinged off the truck. Cass wouldn’t be pleased. He turned to face me, resting an elbow on the top of the passenger seat, boxing me in.

“Talk to me, friend,” he said.

I opened my mouth and let it all tumble out. “I have a plan. I have some money put away. I was going to go someplace quiet for a couple of weeks until this blew over. You didn’t have to put yourself out like this. I just need to get my stuff from back at the mansion and I can be out of your hair.”

“All right.” He nodded. “Well, we’re here now and I’d like to go check out my place for a couple of days. So why don’t you come with me? Just as friends. No big deal. It’s Friday now, the lawyers said they’d have the new papers sent to us Monday. We’ll sign them. I’ve got a show early next week back in LA. If you want, you can lie low at the house for a few weeks till things calm down. Sound like a plan? We spend the weekend together, then go our separate ways. All sorted.”

It did sound like a solid idea. But still, I deliberated for a second. Apparently, it was a second too long.

“You worried about spending the weekend with me or something? Am I that scary?” His gaze held mine, our faces a bare hand’s breadth apart. Dark hair fell around his perfect face. For a moment I almost forgot to breathe. I didn’t move. I couldn’t. Outside a motorcycle roared past then all fell quiet again.

Was he scary? The man had no idea.

“No,” I lied, throwing in some scoff for good measure.

I don’t think he believed me. “Listen, I’m sorry about acting like an asshole back in LA.”

“It’s okay, really, Rhys. This situation would do anyone’s head in.”

“Tell me something,” he said in a low voice. “You remembered getting the tattoo. Has anything else come back to you?”

Reliving my drunken rampage wasn’t somewhere I wanted to go. Not with him. Not with anyone. I was paying the consequences by having my life upended and splashed about on the Internet. “Does this even matter? I mean, isn’t it a bit late to be having this conversation?”

“Guess so.” He shifted back in his seat and put a hand on the wheel. “You need to stretch your legs or anything?”

“A restroom would be great.”

He nodded. “No worries.”

We pulled back out onto the road, and silence ensued for several minutes. He’d turned off the stereo sometime while I slept. The quiet was awkward now and it was all my doing. Guilt sucked first thing in the morning. It probably didn’t improve later in the day, but first up, without even a drop of caffeine to fortify me, it was horrible. He’d been nice to me, trying to talk, and I’d shut him down.

“Most of that night is still a blur,” I said, trying to gently reopen the conversation.

He hummed quietly. Such was the sum total of his response.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself to go further. “I remember doing shots at midnight. After that, it’s hazy. I remember the sound of the needle at the tattoo parlor, us laughing, but that’s about it. I’ve never blacked out in my life. It’s scary.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly.

It was a little late to ask this, but I needed to know. “How did we meet?”

He exhaled hard. “Me and a group of people were leaving to go to another club. One of the girls wasn’t looking where she was going, bumped into a cocktail waitress. Apparently the waitress was new or something and she dropped her tray. Luckily, it was only a couple of empty beer bottles.”

“How did I get involved?”

He darted me a glance, taking his eyes off the road for a moment. “Some of them started giving the poor waitress shit, telling her they were going to get her fired. You just swooped in and handed them their asses.”

My eyes went wide. “I did?”

“Oh, yeah.” He licked his lips, the corner of his mouth curling. “Told them they were evil, pretentious, overpriced assholes who should watch where they were walking. You helped the girl pick up the beer bottles and then you insulted my friends some more. It was pretty fucking classic, actually. I can’t remember everything you said. You got pretty creative with the insults by the end.”

I was stunned. “Huh. And you liked me for that?”

He shut his mouth and said nothing. A whole wide world of nothing. Nothing could actually cover a lot of ground when you put that much effort into it.

“What happened next?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Security came over to throw you out. Not like they were gonna argue with the rich kids.”

“No. I guess not.”

Glancing over at me, he added, “You looked panicky, so I got you out of there.”

“You left your friends for me?” I watched him in amazement.

He did a one-shoulder shrug. As if it meant nothing.

“What then?” I asked.

“We took off and had a drink in another bar.”

“I’m surprised you stuck with me.” Stunned was closer.

“Why wouldn’t I?” he asked. “You treated me like a normal person. We just talked about everyday stuff. You weren’t angling to get anything out of me. You didn’t act like I was a different fucking species. When you looked at me it felt…”

“What?”

He cleared his throat. “I dunno. Doesn’t matter.”

He was lying. “Yes, you do. And it does.”

He groaned.

I pushed. “Please?”

“Fuck’s sake,” he muttered, shifting around in the driver’s seat all uncomfortable-like. “It felt real, okay? It felt right. I don’t know how else to explain it.”

I sat in stunned silence for a moment. “That’s a good way to explain it.”

Suddenly, he got decidedly smirky. “Plus, I’d never been propositioned quite like that.”

“Yeah. Okay, stop now.” I covered my face with my hands, and he laughed.

“Relax,” he said. “You were very sweet.”

“Sweet?”

“Sweet is not a bad thing,” he replied.

He pulled the truck into a gas station, stopping in front of a pump. “Look at me.”

I lowered my fingers. Rhys stared back at me, beautiful face grinning. “You said that you thought I was a really nice guy. And that it would be great if we could go up to your room and have sex and just hang out for a while, if maybe that was something I’d be interested in doing.”

“I have all the moves,” I groaned. There might have been more embarrassing conversations in my life. Doubtful, though. Oh, good God, the thought of me trying out my smooth seduction routine on Rhys. He who had groupies and glamour models throwing themselves at him on a daily basis. If there’d been enough room under the car seat, I’d have hid down there. “What did you say?”

“What do you think I said?” Without taking his gaze off me, he popped the glove box and pulled out a baseball cap.

“This is so mortifying,” I sighed, letting my head fall back against the headset. “Why couldn’t you have forgotten too?”

He just looked at me. The smirk was long gone. For a long moment he held my gaze captive, unsmiling. The air in the car seemed to drop by about fifty degrees.

“I’ll be right back,” I said, fingers fumbling with the seat belt.

His voice was hard again. “Sure.”

I finally managed to unbuckle the stupid thing, heart galloping inside my chest. The conversation had gotten crazy heavy toward the end. It had caught me off guard. Knowing he’d stood up for me in Las Vegas, that he’d chosen me over his friends… It changed things. And it made me wonder what else I needed to know about that night.

“Wait.” He rifled among the collection of sunglasses, pulled out a pair of designer aviator shades, and handed them to me. “You’re famous now too, remember?”

“My butt is.”

He almost smiled. Almost.

He fit the baseball cap to his head and rested an arm on the steering wheel. The tattoo of my name was right there, in all its glory. It was pink around the edges and some of the letters had small scabs on them. I wasn’t the only one permanently marked by that night.

With a sigh, I hurried inside of the gas station, into the restroom. I locked myself inside of the stall and took a deep breath.

A weekend with Rhysand. It wouldn’t be too bad...at least, that’s what I kept telling myself, and every time I did, I debated myself against it. I was nervous and, yes, a little bit scared. Ultimately, I will still uncomfortable with the fact that I was married to a stranger. I was learning more about him every day, but I still didn’t know him, and I’m not sure I would get the chance to when all was said and done.

I mean, did it even matter?

After I saw to the necessities, I was washing my hands, scrubbing at them just to give myself a few minutes more of silence. When I opened the door to the restroom again, though, I was only halfway down the drinks aisle before I had been spotted. A pair of girls, maybe a few years younger than myself, were standing there, their eyes wide.

The sunglasses Rhys had given me were pushed on the top of my head.

Good going, Feyre.

I gave them each an awkward smile and tried to step past them. I was almost to the door, to freedom, when one of them muttered to her, “Do you think that’s her?”

I didn’t turn to let them know I’d heard them, just kept hurrying for the exit.

“I don’t think so. The girl in the pictures was much prettier.”

Ouch.

When I got back, Rhysand was standing by the truck, signing an autograph for a couple of guys, one of whom was busy doing an overly-enthusiastic air guitar performance. Rhys laughed and clapped him on the back and they talked for a couple of minutes more. He was kind, gracious. He stood smiling, chatting with them, until he noticed me hovering nearby. “Thanks, guys. If you could keep this quiet for a couple of days I’d appreciate it, yeah? We could do with a break from the insanity.”

“No worries.” One of the guys turned and grinned at me. “Congratulations. You’re way prettier in person than in your pictures.”

“Thanks.” I awkwardly smiled, not quite knowing what else to do. I preferred these guys to the girls who’d seen me in the gas station.

Rhys winked at me and opened the passenger door for me to hop in. The other man pulled out a cell phone and started snapping pictures. Rhys ignored him and hurried around to the other side of the vehicle. He didn’t speak till we were back out on the road.

“It’s not far now,” he said. “We still going to Velaris?”

I nodded. “Absolutely.”

“Cool.”

Hearing Rhys talk about our first meeting had put a new spin on things. That conversation had piqued my curiosity. That he’d chosen me to some degree that night… I don’t think the possibility had occurred to me before. I’d figured we’d both let tequila do the thinking and somehow fallen into this mess together.

I was wrong. There was more to the story. Much more. Rhysand’s reluctance to answer certain questions made me wonder.

I wanted answers. But I needed to tread carefully.

“Is it always like that for you?” I asked. “Being recognized? Having people approach you all the time?” I was hesitant to tell him about the girls I saw in the gas station. I didn’t know how he’d feel about that, or if he’d reprimand me for not utilizing the sunglasses like he’d told me.

“They were fine. The crazies are a worry, but you handle it. It’s part of my job. People like the music, so…”

A bad feeling crept through me. “You did tell me who you were that night, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, of course I did.” He gave me a snarky look, his brows bunched up.

My bad feeling crept away, only to be replaced by shame. “Sorry.”

“Feyre, I wanted you to know what the fuck you were getting into. You said you really liked me, but you weren’t that keen on my band.” He fiddled with the stereo, another half smile on his face. Soon some rock song I didn’t know played quietly over the speakers. “You felt pretty bad about it, actually. You kept apologizing over and over. Insisted on buying me a pizza to make up for it.”

“I just prefer country or pop. Or, really, anything that’s not hard rock.”

“Believe me, I know. And stop apologizing. You’re allowed to like whatever the hell you want.”

I nodded and we fell into an awkward silence. Finally, I asked, “Was it a good pizza?”

He gave me a one-shoulder shrug. “It was fine.”

I looked over at him, but his eyes were firmly on the road in front of us. “I wish I remembered.”

He snorted. “There’s a first.”

I don’t know what exactly came over me. Maybe I just wanted to see if I could make him smile. With a knee beneath me I pulled out a length of seat belt, raised myself up, and kissed him quick on the cheek. A surprise attack. His skin was warm and smooth against my lips. The man smelled so much better than he had a right to.

“What was that for?” he asked, shooting me a look out of the corner of his eye.

“For getting me out of my parent’s house and then out of LA. For talking to me about that night.” I shrugged, trying to play it off. “For lots of things.”

A little line appeared above the bridge of his nose. When he spoke, his voice was gruff. “Right. Yeah. No problem.”

His mouth stayed shut and his hand went to his cheek, touching where my lips had been. The looks out of the corner of his eye continued for quite some time. Each one made me wonder a bit more if Rhysand Lunasa was just as scared of me as I was of him. This reaction was even better than a smile.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Velaris was beautiful, that much was certain, and if I thought the mansion in LA was over the top, Rhysand’s house was just as magnificent, but in a more logical sense. It wasn’t as big, but it was very modern, very sleek.

Rhysand climbed out of the cab and walked up to the house, fiddling with a set of keys from his pocket. He opened the front door, then stopped to punch numbers into a security system.

“You coming?” he yelled.

I lingered beside the car, looking up at the magnificent house. Him and me alone. Inside there. Hmm. Waves crashed on the rocks nearby. I swore I could hear the swell of an orchestral accompaniment not too far off in the distance. The place was decidedly atmospheric. And that atmosphere was pure romance.

“What’s the problem?” Rhys came back down the stone path toward me.

“Nothing … I was just-.”

“Good.” He didn’t stop. I didn’t know what was going on until I found myself hanging upside down over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold.

“Shit. Rhys!”

“Relax,” he crooned. I couldn’t see his face, but I could hear the smirk on his lips.

“You’re going to drop me!” I cried.

“I’m not going to drop you. Stop squirming,” he said, his arm pressing against the back of my legs. “Show some trust.”

“What are you doing?” I battered my hands against the ass of his jeans.

“It’s traditional to carry the bride across the threshold.”

“Not like this,” I laughed.

He patted my butt cheek, the one with his name on it. “Why would we wanna start being conventional now, huh?”

“I thought we were just being friends.”

“This is friendly. You should probably stop grabbing my ass, though, or I’m gonna get the wrong idea about us. Especially after that kiss in the car.”

“I’m not feeling your ass,” I grumbled, and stopped using his butt cheeks for a handhold. Like it was my fault the position left me no alternative but to hold on to his firm butt.

He snorted. “Please, you’re all over me. It’s disgusting.”

I laughed despite myself. “You put me over your shoulder, you idiot. Of course I’m all over you.”

Up the steps we went, then onto the wide wooden patio and into the house. Hardwood floors in a rich brown and moving boxes, lots and lots of moving boxes. I couldn’t see much else.

“This could be a problem,” he said.

“What could be?” I asked, still upside down, my hair obscuring my view.

“Hang on.” Carefully, he righted me, setting my feet on the floor. All the blood rushed from my head and I staggered. He grabbed my elbows, holding me upright.

“Okay?” he asked.

“Yeah. What’s the problem?”

I followed his gaze, looking around at the sparse furnishings. “I thought you said you lived here,” I said, as I stepped inside of the foyer and looked around.

Rhysand shut the front door behind me. As I was looking out of the floor-length front windows at the beach beyond, he said, “I haven’t been here in a while. Not much time to come home, you know?”

I nodded, as if I agreed, but I really had no idea. I had no idea what it was like to constantly be on the road, in different cities, in different countries.

To be away from home for months, for years, and having to cope with homesickness.

“I thought there’d be more furniture,” he said.

I turned to look at him. “You’ve never been here before?”

“I’ve been busy.”

Apart from boxes there were more boxes. They were everywhere. We stood in a large central room with a huge stone fireplace set in the far wall. You could roast a whole cow in the thing if you were so inclined. Stairs led to a second floor above and another level below this one. A dining room and open-plan kitchen came next. The place was a combination of floor-to-ceiling glass, neat lines of logs, and gray stonework. The perfect mix of old and new design techniques. It was stunning. But then all the places he lived in seemed to be.

I wondered what he’d make of my and Joey’s tiny bedraggled apartment. A silly thought. As if he’d ever see it.

“At least they got a fridge.” He pulled one of the large stainless steel doors open. Every inch of space inside had been packed with food and beverages. “Excellent.”

“Who are ‘they’?” I asked, following behind him.

“The people that look after the place for me. Friends of mine. I called them, asked them to sort some stuff out for us.” He pulled out a beer and popped the lid. “Cheers.”

I smiled, amused. “For breakfast?”

“I’ve been awake for two days. I want a beer, then I want a bed. Man, I hope they thought to get a bed.” Beer in hand, he ambled back through the kitchen and entryway and up the stairs. I followed, curious.

He pushed open one bedroom door after another. There were four in total and each had its own bathroom because cool, rich people clearly couldn’t share. At the final door at the end of the hall he stopped and sagged with relief. “Thank fuck for that.”

A kingdom of a bed made up with clean, white sheets waited within. And a couple more boxes.

“What’s with all the boxes?” I asked. “Did they only get one bed?”

“Sometimes I buy stuff on my travels. Sometimes people give me stuff. I’ve just been sending it all here for the last few years. Take a look if you want. And yes, there’s only one bed.” He took another swig of beer. “You think I’m made of money?”

I huffed out a laugh. “Says the guy who got Cartier to open so I could pick out a ring.”

“You remember that?” He smiled around the bottle.

“No, I just assumed given what time of night it must have been.” I wandered over to the wall of windows. Such an amazing view.

“You tried to pick some shitty little thing. I couldn’t believe it.” He stared at me, but his gaze was distant.

I winced. “I threw the ring at the lawyers.”

He flinched and studied his shoes. “Yeah, I know.”

“I’m sorry. They just made me so mad.”

“Lawyers do that.” He took another swig of the beer. “Cass said you took a swing at him.”

“I missed.”

“Probably for the best. He’s an idiot but he means well.”

“Yeah, he was really nice to me.” Crossing my arms, I checked out the rest of his big bedroom, wandering into the bathroom. The Jacuzzi would have made Cassian’s curl up in shame. The place was sumptuous. Yet again the feeling of not belonging, of not fitting in with the décor, hit me hard.

“That’s some heavy frown, friend,” he said.

I attempted a smile. “I’m just still trying to figure things out. I mean, is that why you took the plunge in Vegas? Because you’re unhappy? And apart from Cassian, you’re surrounded by jerks?”

“Fuck.” His let his head fall back. “Do we have to keep talking about that night?”

I was getting just as frustrated as he was. “I’m just trying to understand.”

“No,” he said. “It wasn’t that, okay?”

“Then what?” I pressed.

“We were in Vegas, Feyre. Shit happens.”

I shut my mouth. Ouch.

“I don’t mean…” He wiped a hand across his face. “Fuck. Look, don’t think it was just all drinking and partying and that’s the only reason anything happened. Why we happened. I wouldn’t want you to think that.”

I threw my arms out. It seemed the only proper response. “But that’s what I do think. That’s exactly what I think. That’s the only way this fits together in my head. When a girl like me wakes up married to a guy like you, what else can she possibly think? God, Rhys, look at you. You’re beautiful, rich, and successful. Tamlin was right, this makes no sense.”

He turned on me, face tight. “Don’t do that. Don’t talk yourself down like that.”

I just sighed, shaking my head.

He went on. “I’m serious. Don’t you ever give what that asshole said another thought, understood?”

“Then give me something. Tell me what it was like between us that night.”

He opened his mouth, then snapped it closed. “Nah. I don’t want to dredge it all up, you know? Water under the bridge or whatever. I just don’t want you thinking that the whole night was some alcohol-fueled frenzy or something, that’s all. Honestly, you didn’t even seem that drunk most of it.”

“Rhys, you’re hedging. Come on. It’s not fair that you remember and I don’t.”

“No,” he said, his voice hard, cold, in a way I hadn’t heard it. He loomed over me, jaw set. “It’s not fair that I remember and you don’t, Feyre.”

I didn’t know what to say.

“I’m going out.” True to his word, he stormed out the door. Heavy footsteps thumped along the hallway and back down the stairs. I stood staring after him.

#snelbz whiv #what happens in vegas #vegas au #feysand #snelbz tacmc collab #snacmc

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gojos-sidepiece-69 · 3 years

Text

Tokyo Tech Training- Chapter 6

By the time you woke up on Wednesday, you were still seething with rage. Who does that little shit think he is? Was he still a little boy? He was 28, for Christ’s sake, when was he going to grow up??! You shoved the microscopic train of thought that you found Gojo Satoru’s immaturity charming deep into the depths of your subconsciousness. You felt an unwanted warmth spread upwards and inwards from your thighs when you opened your phone and saw the inappropriate picture Gojo had sent you last night, dangling your lacy pink underwear from his index finger. You were still angry, but your heat pulsed at the thought of your panties in his hands. You shook the thought away when you felt drool shamelessly pooling at the sides of your mouth.

What you hated to dwell on even more was the growing realization that the more Gojo touched you with those long fingers of his, the more his tongue and his overly moisturized, glistening lips ghosted across your skin, the more you felt deprived of the sensation when he was gone. The hunger was only growing. You realized that you had only taken his dick inside of you once, just once...you felt empty. No, you thought to yourself. This was selfish and pathetic on both of your ends; your little schoolgirl crush had gone way too far. You needed to stop fucking him, even if he made your body tremble your throat moan in ways no one else could even dream of doing.

The past five days had been such a chaotic blur that you hadn’t processed the fact that tomorrow was your...your birthday. How had you not realized it when Sukuna first proposed his deal that day at the mall? “The Itadori boy’s room on Thursday at 11 PM. If you’re late, you’ll be punished however I see fit.” You could still hear his deep, demonic voice. So that was how you were going to be spending your birthday evening tomorrow: being tossed around like a plaything by a 1,000 year old curse. You sighed deeply and put your head into your hands, not even surprised anymore at the absurdity of the situation. What the hell were you doing with your life? You came to Tokyo Tech to train to become a Jujutsu Sorcerer, not practice your Kegel techniques with your teacher every other day. Just take things one day at a time, you reminded yourself, as you begrudgingly dragged yourself out of your bed.

Today was your second day filled with exerting and harsh training, but at least it wasn’t as traumatizing as your earlier Field Training expedition. When you got to the grassy training field on campus, you looked around for Gojo, feeling a tiny sliver of disappointment when Maki told you, “He’s out for the day. He’ll be back tomorrow, but us second-years are overlooking your training today.” Damn, you thought. You couldn’t resist how delicious the thought of showing off was for your cocky....fuck, stop thinking about him. It was as if his stupid, dimpled smile was permanently branded to the right side of your brain. You turned around to watch Nobara and Panda goofing around, swinging each other in circles and getting thrown around like frisbees. Track-star Yuji and a stubborn Megumi were racing each other up and down the track like their first names were Usain.

Your friends all looked so cute in their blue tracksuits, you smiled. Toge was yelling, “Salmon! Tuna-salmon!” as Maki practiced her new, crisp cursed-tool technique on him with her incredible agility. “Wait up!” You yelled after Yuji and Megumi, challenging the two boys to a quick hundred-meter dash. “Loser buys us all drinks for my birthday tomorrow!”

Somehow, Megumi lost the race but promised to buy you all drinks tomorrow; you smiled inwardly, thinking about something he once said about having a strong moral compass that couldn’t easily be shaken. At least you knew of two good guys you could rely on, even if they were a spiky sea urchin and an extra large pink cupcake. “Hold on, hold on. Why didn’t you tell us tomorrow was your birthday?! Explain yourself,” Nobara demanded, crossing her arms at you. “I guess I just forgot...” you started, but she wasn’t having it. “I love birthdays, and we’re using yours as a chance to celebrate. I think we all deserve some more sweets and drinks, right? And I can go shopping to get you a present!" She gushed, and before you told her it wasn’t a big deal, she tutted at you. “No ifs and buts. I’ll decorate my dorm and we can all meet there tomorrow at 9 PM. No excuses,” she pointed a finger in your face. “Okay, okay,” you smiled, before wickedly challenging Yuji and Megumi to a rematch.

The rest of your day was filled with arduous exercise and training with your second-years, and it was soon time for bed. You woke up the next day sore again, but thought to yourself that you might as well get used to the muscle ache - it was only going to get worse from here. You were going to have the bones of an 80-year-old soon, if you kept this up. You laughed darkly and nervously at the thought of having arthritis as a teenager, before a spirited Yuji and Nobara bursted into your room yelling, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!! :)” You thanked them, head ringing slightly from their yelling at 8 in the morning. They jumped onto your bed with you, tackling you with warm hugs and tickling you.

Yuji slapped a birthday cake sticker against your cheek, insisting that you must keep it on all day. “Guys, guys, stop,” you laughed, eyes watering from laughing. Megumi stood at the doorway and nodded your way before wishing you a happy birthday. Yuji got up and dragged him into the group hug, Megumi’s face smashing against Yuji’s stomach. Your dark haired friend groaned as the rest of you poked fun at him. This was the best birthday morning you had in a very long time.

You peeled the cake sticker off of your face and stuck it onto your mirror. “Let’s go out again today and hit every good Ramen shop in the damn city! And then go shopping in Harajuku!” Nobara ordered rather than suggested, and you both reeled from excitement. She knew how much you loved food. She grabbed you by the wrists and pulled you all the way to the front of the school, not even giving you time to change. So the four of you stood in front of Tokyo Tech in your pajamas, hailing a cab to get downtown. You spent all day with your friends, and the three of you loved teasing Megumi for his seriousness. You could’ve sworn you saw him smile once, when a waiter at one Ramen restaurant placed a big steaming bowl in front of him. Everyone ate out of each other’s dishes greedily, snatching and stealing.

After that, you headed to shops selling outrageously expensive clothing, including one dedicated to just selling corsets. You all pushed inside, trying on ones that you could never afford. You laughed as Yuji tried on a pink frilly corset, making Megumi wear a deep blue one. Nobara tried to talk you into a plan for shoplifting a set for the both of you to share, but you were too afraid you’d get caught. “Oh my god! Is that Nanami?” Nobara whispered too loudly, and the blonde man turned towards the four of you. He had a lacy set of undergarments in his hands, and Yuji hooted. “Who’s that for, Nanami-Sensei?” He jumped up and down. “I told you not to call me that. And that’s none of your business. Tch.”The man answered in his slightly-flustered deep voice, adjusting his leopard-print tie. He quickly walked over to the cash register to avoid dealing with you four. You all laughed it off, making jokes the whole way out.

“HAHA-and what if he’s into some super weird kinky stuff, too?!” Nobara asked. “I can see it! He’s totally a Fifty Shades of Grey type-man...he’s probably secretly a sadist or something,” Yuji said spookily, waving his arms around.

Before you knew it, you were back in your dorm and it was almost 9 PM, time for your little party. You tugged open your closet doors, wondering what you should wear for the occasion. Since it was your birthday, you decided you could afford to show some skin and let loose for the night. Nobara had even warned you and the boys earlier that if you didn’t wear something nice she would “use the straw doll ritual technique on you.” So you settled on a short black dress with spaghetti straps, still an avid supporter of the Bloutfit. You knocked on Nobara’s door and entered, and seeing all your classmates in there dressed nicely for you warmed your heart: Megumi, Toge, and Yuji wore cute slacks and button-down long sleeve shirts, Nobara wore a pink skirt and a white top, and Maki dressed up in a power suit. Panda was panda.

Your stomach did three consecutive backflips when your eyes landed on none other than Gojo Satoru, leaning back against a wall and smiling at you. Oh, so he was back from his trip already, huh? This try-not-to-stare game was getting really hard when he, too, was wearing nice slacks and a crisp button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He wore his dumb sunglasses, and damn, did this man look expensive.

Megumi shoved two bottles of fancy-looking wine into your hands, keeping his promise. Everyone passed the bottles around, laughing and swaying to music (which Yuji was again in charge of, starting the night off with Walk Down by FNF Chop). You played a couple of intense rounds of charades, and you would never forget Yuji’s impersonation of John Cena. Ever. Because you now had a permanent stain on your dress where you had spat out your wine. See, this is why we wear black, though! You felt someone grab your wrist and lead you outside of the room and into the dimly lit hallway.

Before you could even process it, a certain 6’ 3” tree bent into your ear and whispered, “Happy birthday, princess,” while shoving a small box into your hands. He pulled back up and leaned against the wall, nodding at you with a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. You opened your mouth to angrily argue with him, but he put a finger to your mouth and shushed you. “Just open it.” You narrowed your eyes as you popped the lid of the box open, heat instantly rising to your cheeks. You stared down at a pair of fluffy pink handcuffs. “What the fuck is this?” You asked him bluntly, and he stupidly replied, “Handcuffs, dummy. I was thinking we could use them soon during one of our training sessions. Trust me, you’ll like them,” he winked at you through his sunglasses. Before you could scoff and tell him you weren’t the type of girl who was into bright pink sex toys, he said, “Oh, and one more thing before I forget.”

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out the panties he had stolen from your pile of clothes in the shed last night. He took a step toward you and pulled the top of your dress out, slipping your underwear inside. His hand lingered on your chest longer than it should have, until he pulled it back out and placed his hand on the back of his neck. “Well, you’d better get going. Yuji knows about the deal, blah blah blah, so meet Sukuna at his room at 11, okay?” You froze and your stomach dropped. How could you have forgotten? What time was it? You glanced at your phone frantically. “It’s 11:27, you moron! Why didn’t you remind me earlier??” You panicked. “Oh shit, sorry about that. Well, you better get going now, then.” Gojo called after you “Have fun!” And “Be safe!” And “Use protection!” As you scrambled down the hallway to meet your impending doom.

🌹

#saturo gojo #gojo x reader #fanfic #x y/n #jjk smut #fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jjk anime #jjk #anime #chapter 6 #fanfiction

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svtshine · 3 years

Text

Neighbor next door

pairing: Wonwoo x reader

genre: angst to fluff, Neighbors!au, nonidol!Au

type: oneshot

summary: Falling in love with your neighbour best friend

You heaved the heavy box filled with stuff back at your apartment and entered the apartment building yet again. Probably for the 6th time now. You wiped off the sweat that was forming near your forehead and making the hair stick to your face. Even with the aircon from the lift system blasting you, you were still feeling extremely hot and stuffy.

It was an extremely hot day however, you were still very excited to move into your new apartment and meet your new neighbors. You were told from the nice old landlady that the people here were of different variations. Some were working, students like you or parents with newborns or children. It was a way better environment as compared to your old apartment.

At the old district there was hardly any conversations or interactions between you and your neighbors. You clearly remembered the only interaction you had with one of the neighbors, a floor above you, to keep it down. Even though you weren't making any noise. He was a grumpy looking elderly, and he looked at you with such a aggressive look.

You looked at him strangely but apologized anyhow, wanting so badly to return to the book you were then reading. It was getting to the very best part where the charismatic male character was going to kiss the protagonist and confess to her under the mistletoe, on a cold yet beautiful winter night.

You kicked your front door with one hand balancing on the box and the other supporting the weight of the door. You placed the box on the floor where it remained with many other cardboard boxes filled completely with all your belongings.

You sighed out and proceeded to tie your hair up into a messy bun to keep it from sticking onto your face. i just have two more boxes, then i can start unboxing....god there is so much to do, you thought to yourself as you sat on the end of the sofa, taking a short break before leaving for those two boxes again.

Yes it was definitely tiring, but you still smiled to yourself as you thought about the new encounters and relationships that might form in this new building. You took a sip of your opened can of soda that was still cool and sighed out in satisfaction, as the cool liquid helped cool you down for a second and satisfy your thirst.

You smiled brightly and greeted the neighbors that you came across while moving the boxes. They were all very friendly and open in welcoming you, you made note to bake them some of your special cookies later on to thank them.

Wonwoo was just returning from the nearby convenience store, sucking on a cold soda-flavored ice popsicle. Under the sweltering heat and bright sun, this was what he needed. He was nearing the apartment building when he saw you. He didn't recognize you at all, and he was sure he recalled everyone’s faces. You were struggling with a heavier box, and he remembered the landlady coming over previously with a box of brownies and a notice that someone was going to move in to the apartment next to his.

“Wonwoo dear, someone is moving next door, isn’t that exciting” she said smiling brightly

“Really?”

“She looks really gorgeous dear, around your age, Slightly younger i believe. She is moving in next month so do welcome her warmly, ya hear me”

“Yes grandma” Everyone had the habit of calling the warm soul, grandma. She definitely did treat everyone like family, no one dared to mess with her either.

Grandma was watching Wonwoo munch on the delicious brownies and spoke up, “You know maybe you should show her around, get a little closer huh” she smirked deviously.

Wonwoo only took a sip of his milk, “Grandma this isn’t some fictional romance novel” he replied nonchalantly.

“You’d never know my dearest”

His flashback ended and he had noticed that you were still struggling with the heavy box and next to it was a smaller one. He swiftly walked towards to you and took the box from your hands with ease, “here let me help, I’m wonwoo. You must be the new tenant. floor 7, unit 11? i live next door, unit 12″ he spoke up.

it was only then you realised there was a handsome charming man holding onto your box and literally speaking to you, while you stared at him in a slight daze. Holy macaroni, his face is god-like and his voice? come to mama. You continued staring at him, mouth slightly open until he waved his hand infront of you and pulled you out of your imagination. You got flustered at the fact that you were literally swooning over a man you just met, your neighbor for god sakes and in front of him. Get it together Y/n.

“Hey, i’m Y/n nice to meet you Wonwoo” you stretched out your hand to shake his. Wonwoo placed the box on the ground and shook your hand gently with a warm smile. Grandma was right when she called you gorgeous. Wearing a tank top, pajama shorts, a messy bun and slippers, you still looked amazing.

You lifted the small box, “Thanks so much for offering to help, these are my last few boxes and i can finally start unpacking” you looked so relieved that wonwoo chuckled. “No worries, we live beside each other so it would be convenient too” He grabbed the heavy box and walked beside you towards the elevator. The two of you starting a simple conversation.

“I can’t believe we’re gonna be neighbors. Not saying i would hate it, i just kinda pictured the next door neighbor to be someone older” You wondered out loud.

“Grandma did say you were around my age, but i’m glad that you’re friendly. You’ll definitely fit right in” Wonwoo smiled at you. “she also told me that you were around my age, are you attending college?” He asked curiously, looking down at you since you were shorter than him.

“Yeah, i’m attending the college a few minutes walk from here. Psychology course..you?”

“nice, i’m attending the same school but taking business.”

Your stomach growled, you just remembered you haven’t eaten breakfast at all. Wonwoo laughed out loud and you pouted. “Why don’t i help you unpack and get some takeout so that we can share. It’ll help you save time” He suggested. You felt very touched by his kind gesture, “If you don’t mind, it’ll really help, i’ll pay for the takeout.”

The two of you unpacked and continued getting to know each other. It simply clicked between the two of you. There wasn’t any sign of awkwardness, and you never felt uncomfortable at all around him. Wonwoo made you feel at home. talking to him felt like you were reuniting with a friend from long ago.

Wonwoo held up a book from one of your boxes, “Holy shit, i’ve been trying to find this book for ages” you looked up from folding your clothes, “That is one of my favourite books, good eye. i had to queue hours to get that, but at least with the author’s signature as well” you winked at the end at him. His eyes widened and flipped to the first page where in deed, the bold yet elegant signature of the author lay. “i could lend it to you, as a thanks for helping me as well.”

Wonwoo smiled so brightly you were going to faint he looked like a kid who had just received a kitten for his birthday.

From then on, the two of you became the best of friends. Meeting earlier in the mornings to eat breakfast together before morning classes, walking to school together and even eating lunch together most of the times. Wonwoo introduced you to his big group of 13 friends, and not gonna lie when you first met them, you were really intimidated. Most of them were almost a head taller than you and you felt so small standing next to them. However, they welcomed you with open arms and you loved spending time with them and wonwoo.

Movie nights became a weekly thing after the both of you completed all the dued assignments. You would place you leg on his lap and the both of you would indulge in unhealthy snacks and sodas the whole night before falling asleep together.

Doing laundry together, studying at the library together and buying groceries together. it was normal to see the both of you together. There was never an awkward moment between the two of you. For the first time in your life, you trusted a friend that much in such a short time, it did kind of scare you at how fast you trusted this man but well wonwoo had never done anything to make you doubt him. In fact, he has been doing the opposite. Whenever you feel down about missing your parents or a bad test grade, wonwoo would hug you tight and wipe away your tears. He would do anything to make you happy like telling you about the dumb things his friends had done this week and afterwards tuck you in, sleeping on the couch just to be sure you were okay.

You entrusted him with a spare key in case of emergencies. The first time you realised what you felt for him was probably not entirely platonic was when you returned from your part time job one night. You were exhausted, it was a busy night at the restaurant and your manager had you running table to table taking orders and serving dishes. You wanted so badly to just collapse and your bed and sleep till tomorrow noon. You lazily unlocked your door and threw your bag on the floor, bending down to collect your shoes when you realised there was already someone inside your apartment. You recognised the back of Wonwoo’s head, his soft fluffy hair sitting on it giving him a nice look. Wonwoo heard some rustling and turned to find you finally home, “hey y/n welcome home, how’s work?” You organised your shoe and wonwoo came over to give you a squeeze. You felt his warmth and it felt so good to come back and wrap you arms around hi—.

your eyes opened in shock. You realised that with wonwoo, you were always happy. He made you feel at home, just by being next to you. He was your rock, and you looked forward seeing him everyday. Seeing him laying on your couch, a book in his hands when you reached home, immediately made you feel at ease and less tired. It was so natural, seeing him in your apartment, waiting for you to come home to him was normal.

oh my god. i’m falling in love with Jeon Wonwoo

After you started realising your romantic feelings for Wonwoo, you started being more cautious and aware of his behaviours. You would get flustered when your hand accidentally brushes against his when the both of you are walking. When he hugs you, you found is hard to let him go. You realised the sparkles in his eyes whenever he smiled and how much you enjoyed his laughter, never wanting it to stop.

The both of you would continue doing the stuff you’ve originally been doing. Baking together for the neighbours and grandma or going for walks in the park together. Only until one day, Wonwoo told you

“Y/n i’m so excited, i’m going to go on a date” You felt your smile falter, your heart breaking into tiny pieces. All hoped of “maybe he might feel the same way as i am” were thrown out of your window. You dug your fingernails harshly into your skin and you forced yourself to smile again

“hey that’s great, who is she?”

“Min jun, she’s in business as well. Super talented and smart and she’s really pretty too”

tears were starting to form, and you uncomfortably looked down at your lap, “That’s great, when are you guys going out?”

“Tomorrow, 6pm. I’m gonna bring her to that fancy restaurant Minghao recommended me.” Wonwoo looked so excited, it broke your heart even more.

“but won its movie night tomorrow” you said softly. “Don’t worry i’ll get back in time, just maybe a little late” eyes focused on his clothes. He picked out a button down and showed it to you, “Hey do you think this looks like date material”

“yeah” you mumbled. playing with your fingers, trying to distract yourself from breaking down infront of wonwoo. That night you left his apartment earlier than usual, telling him you still had some assignments to complete. If assignments meant crying the whole night.

the next day, you didn’t see wonwoo that much since you had more classes than usual. You were surprised you were still able to pull through them. Your doorbell rang and you opened it to see Wonwoo.

He was dressed nice in the same button down and jeans. His wrist adorned an elegant watch and his hair was styled nicely. he smelled of fresh shave. Your heart was pounding in your chest at how handsome he looked. “Wish me luck Y/n, i’m going to pick her up now” he smiled, showing how excited he was.

“have a great time Won” You said softly, knowing you wouldn’t have a great time knowing the person you love was going to meet someone else. Wonwoo waved goodbye to you and you closed the door. Sliding down the cool wooden surface and onto the ground, bringing your knees together and bawling your eyes out.

It was about 1 am, you sat on the couch waiting for Wonwoo to return for movie night. this heavy feeling of regret on your chest. You wanted to tell him about your feelings, at least let him know how deeply you felt for him. you knew you couldn’t pretend how much it didn’t affect you that he didn’t feel the same way about you.

The doorknob jingled and you realized it was wonwoo unlocking the door. You stood up and cleaned your sweaty nervous palms on your pajamas. Wonwoo opened the door and was shocked to see you still awake and waiting for him, snacks laid out on the coffee table and tv switched on to the netflix channel. “Y/n i wanted to check if you gone to bed already. I’m so sorry, we had such a good time i lost track of it and i walked her home”

Your heart once again broke at the fact that he had a great time. Of course you wanted him to find a nice girl, but it hurt you so much knowing it wasn’t you. “Wonwoo it’s fine...i need to tell you something and it’s really serious” Wonwoo rushed to you and the both of you sat on the couch. “look won, i really treasure our friendship but i just have to get it off of my chest. i-i love you, but more than a friend loves her bestfriend.” The hand that wonwoo used to hold your hand slowly retracted from yours.

“i know you don’t feel the same way” you said, your voice slightly breaking because your tears started dropping freely. “But you found someone, Min jun, who is much better than me anyways. Treasure her okay? i just want you to be happy and if you’re the happiest with her, then she is the road to go” Wonwoo instinctively raised his hand to wipe away your tears, but he brought it back down at the last second. “Y-y/n i’m so sorry, but i-i just don’t feel the same as you do. i really wished that i did” he looked down at his lap

You sighed out, “It’s fine wonwoo, it’s not your fault either, i just want to lay down now so goodnight. See you later Alligator”

“Goodbye crocodile” Wonwoo mumbled.

You snuggled closer into your blankets as you heard wonwoo leave the apartment and let the tears flow freely.

You know what hurts the most? Loving someone who didn’t love you back.

Wonwoo didn’t sleep that night. you were on his mind the whole time. Guilt spreading his entire body as he could still remember the way you looked when you confessed your feelings to him. The way he wanted to hold you so tight then and chase all your problems away. He reached out his hand to wipe away your tears without even thinking but backed away in the end.

He raised his hand in front of his face and stared at it. he knew he didn’t think of you as anything else but a friend.....right? He recalled all the memories he shared with you, food fights when the both of you woke up at 3 in the morning and had the terrible idea to bake cookies right then. The way your eyes lit up as you stared at the fishes in the sea aquarium. How bright your smile was when he brought you to a cat cafe. Oh god he loved your smi--

Wait no. He thought, i like Min jun, yeah the girl i’m going out with. Right?

He didn’t see you around that much anymore. You didn’t invite him in for breakfast. You walked to college on your own and you ate lunch that you have already prepared yourself. Wonwoo’s heart broke knowing you were purposefully avoiding him, trying to get over him. He himself spent countless of nights trying to get you out of his mind. But his mind always wandered back to you, have you been eating properly? Taking enough rests? or overworking yet again. he hasn’t been taking care of himself. Meals were half eaten, his eyes were dull and he hardly smiled anymore. he just wanted to see you again

your smile, your eyes, your gorgeous face, your kind heart.

his head kept convincing himself, Min jun, Min jun, Min jun.

but his heart chanted, Y/n, Y/n, Y/n.

Glasses clinked together, waiters moving around swiftly. Under dim lighting, Wonwoo stared at his date, Seo min. Seo min was talking about her new designer bag that she bought. Wonwoo zoned out of the conversation tapping his fingernails on the table, he switched his phone on from under the table and stared at the screensaver. It was a selfie of you and Wonwoo.

Seo min clicked her fingers to gain wonwoo’s attention. “Hey you okay? you seem distracted”

Wonwoo rubbed his face and flashed her a fake smile, “erm yeah i’m sorry, what were you saying?”. she continued droning on and Wonwoo had to put in so much focus just to hear what she was saying. He realised how similar the both of you looked. H/c hair, same hair length, height. But she wasn’t you. She didn’t want to get know Wonwoo, she didn’t care to ask if he was taking care of himself.

oh god, i’m in love with Y/n, wonwoo realised

“S-Seo min, i-i need to go, i’m sorry. and i can’t see you anymore. Here is the money for this meal. i have to go” before Seo min could even say anything, Wonwoo was running out of the restaurant.

Wonwoo ran like he never ran before, every breath came out as a light smoke as he ran through the cold wintery streets towards the apartment building. He climbed up the stairs as he was too impatient.

Wonwoo impatiently knocked on your door, panting heavily from running and climbing so far. He waited for you to open the door and brushed through his hair.

The multiple knocks on your door made you put down your book and hot chocolate. “I’m coming!” you said, wondering who was visiting you at this hour. You opened the door and was shocked when you saw Wonwoo panting like he just ran miles.

“Won-” wonwoo stopped you by placing his lips on yours, slowly snaking his arms around your waist and pulling you impossibly closer. You were shocked for a second, but hesitantly wrapped your arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. You broke the kiss first, leaning away and placing your hands on his face waiting for him to talk

“Y/n, these few week has been misery. As cliche as it sounds, it wasn’t the same without you. I missed you so much, your smile, your laughter, everything. Cooking with you, studying with you and even doing laundry together” Wonwoo said voice slightly quivering as all his emotions poured out for you. “i realised as much as i was attracted to Min Jun, my heart belonged to you. I love you, and i didn’t see it before but i really do. I hope that you’ll consider me again and i’ll really like to bring you out” he finished

You gave him a small peck on the lips, “of course Wonwoo.” He gave you the brightest smile, knowing he has you back in his life and that you love him as well, made him the happiest man alive

He wrapped his arms below your knees and carried you into your apartment and onto your bed. The two of you kay and cuddled for a while. Talking about the events that happened when the two of you weren’t talking.

With you, Wonwoo felt like himself. In contrast to how he felt when he was with Min jun. That night he kissed you goodnight and had the best sleep in a few weeks.

Wonwoo has been bringing you on dates for a couple of weeks now, but he hasn’t officially asked you to be his girlfriend. Regular activities such as having breakfast together and spending time together resumed.

On christmas morning, you woke up earlier to make pancakes for the two of you. A pair of arms wrapped around you from behind, you let out a small yelp and Wonwoo’s deep chuckle made your hair on the back of your neck rise.

You turned around and gave him a kiss, “Good morning won.”

“Good morning baby”

You raised your head to realised the mistletoe that you hung were above you guys.

“look won” pointing to the mistletoe, “looks like i get another kiss”

Wonwoo looked up as well, “Well darling, i have one question. Would you like a kiss from won? or a kiss from your boyfriend Won?” he said bringing you closer. “because i would definitely love to kiss my girlfriend Y/n, not just Y/n.”

you can’t believe he was asking you to be his girlfriend, and on christmas morning under the mistletoe. It was a perfect moment. Your hand wrapped against your mouth in disbelief as wonwoo continued staring at you. You finally nodded frantically and Wonwoo’s face erupted into a big smile

He brought you in for a kiss. A kiss under the mistletoe, from your boyfriend next door.

Masterlist

#seventeen #svt #boyfriend #scenario #fluff #wonwoo #Jeon wonwoo #Wonwoo fluff #wonwoo boyfriend #neighbours #wonwoo angst #angst to fluff

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