#that's just cliché dude extended though

[freepassbound]

Like going shopping or like a weekend getaway to the mountains or somewhere with lots of nature not a lot of people

Well, I do like a nice camping trip (though my back has started disagreeing with it as of late), that's certainly true. I don't do it a whole lot, though - inertia is a powerful force, unfortunately.

Shopping? I'm cliché dude. 😂 I'm in, I go after what I need, I'm out. Enjoyability... doesn't really enter into the equation.

#sometimes I'll scout out stuff I *want* (but don't need) #that's just cliché dude extended though #I'm actually trying to convince myself to take a quick trip during spring break #but I'm allergic to spending money 😬 #so springing for a hotel room is a hard sell #and of course camping is only really viable in the summer #not a lot of people is bang-on right though 😂 #asks

[perpetually-forgettable]

Chapter Eleven

Summary: Reader and Bucky deal with the aftermath of the kiss, and they reveal things to each other that could change things forever.

Warnings: brief mentions of catatonic-like state, swearing, pet names, feels...lots of feels. (This is a pretty tame chapter)

Word count: 3669(?)

A/N: So, I know it's been a while since I posted a new chapter and I'm really sorry, but I swear I have a good reason, Lol. I had to have literal life-saving emergency surgery 3 days after posting chapter ten. Like, had I not gone to the ER, I'd have been dead before morning, it was all pretty serious and scary. So I was dealing with that and then once I got home I was still in a great deal of pain, and the pain meds made me sleep a lot and when they didn't I was in no position to write, Lol. I had some complications and then my recovery ended up being extended a bit, but I'm okay now for the most part, still have a few pangs of pain from time to time and still can't move certain ways without triggering more pain but I can finally pick up my kids again and sleep in a bed so that's nice. Lol. So yea...sorry.

Kiss her.

He didn’t know why the thought popped into his head and he didn’t give it a second thought as he scooted closer to y/n on his knees, bringing them to either side of her body as he placed his trembling hands on her cheeks. He searched her eyes, swallowing hard before taking a shaky breath and committing, closing his eyes, and pressing his lips against hers.

Feeling the softness of y/n’s lips was something Bucky never thought he’d get to experience firsthand, and he truly hated that it was happening under these circumstances, but he was grasping for straws at this point, he was willing to try anything to get her to snap out of it, even if it was disgust and anger at him that finally brought her back, he’d take it. In a heartbeat. Her lips remained unmoving against his, and after what felt like hours but was truly only a few seconds, he pulled away from her, separating their lips but never moving far away. He was hoping that the shock of kissing her would do the trick but just his luck…no dice.

With a sigh, he closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers as he whispered defeatedly “Doll, you gotta snap out of it. I’m here, you’re safe. I promise.”

Silence was all that answered him.

It dragged on and on, and he continued to hold her, never moving from his position near her as her body trembled like a leaf in the wind. The storm had slowed down now, it was no longer the torrential downpour it was, now barely more than a steady shower, the winds slowed but the sky above stayed dark and angry, threatening a resurgence.

As Bucky’s mind was racing with worry and concern, failing to conjure a solution that might help ease her back to the present, to him, y/n finally started to show signs of life. Her breathing became panicked, her chest rising and falling quickly, her eyes opened wide as she scanned everything around her in terror.

“Bucky?” She whispered distressingly.

He moved so she could more easily see his face as he stroked his hands over her head and onto her cheeks over and over in an attempt to soothe her, but in actuality, it was more for Bucky than y/n. “I’m here doll, I’m here.” He rushed, smiling at her, glad she was finally coming around.

She seemed to finally be there with Bucky instead of the self-induced dungeon of her fears when she finally locked eyes with Bucky in whatever dim light was available around them, and in an instant everything around them seemed to dissolve away, dust floating in the wind, nothing else in the world mattered the either of them as Bucky gazed into the same set of eyes he’s seen his whole life, never truly noticing just how captivating they were until recently and he regretted missing out on them this whole time.

Taking in a slow, shaky breath, y/n asked in barely more than a whisper “Did…did you kiss me, Buck?”

Bucky’s eyebrows shot up; eyes wide as he attempted to find the right words to say to her.

“Um…uh…yea…” He took a moment to clear his throat before answering again. “Yea…I did y/n.”

He was met with silence once more, her face never betrayed her as she took in his response.

Panicking, Bucky tried to explain himself, “Look, you were out if it pretty bad…I-I was trying to-”

Bucky was never able to finish his doomed attempt at an explanation as y/n surged forward and placed her arms around the back of his neck and pulled him closer to her, slotting her lips against his. Now it was Bucky’s turn to freeze, shocked at the current turn of events, he stayed motionless right up to the moment she began to pull back. Fuck this, this is your chance, don’t let it slip away. He placed his hand to the back of her neck and gently pulled her back down to him and kissed her like he’s wanted to for so long now. Her lips were heaven on earth, soft and supple, a dream come true, a feeling he’d remember for the rest of his days. His other hand found a home on her right hip while the other stayed on the back of her neck, keeping her in place as he deepened the kiss, skating his tongue across her bottom lip, silently asking for entrance that she quickly granted as her hands moved to weave her fingers through his dark hair.

Bucky poured every emotion he couldn’t say into his kiss, hoping the message would get through. I love you. God, I love you so much y/n, he realized it was cliché, but he really did see the fireworks behind his eyelids that all those books y/n read talked about, his heart had never been so happy than in this moment with her. He could see everything he didn’t know he even wanted, he could see it now, with her, could see their life played out in front of him and his heart ached with want, he’s never wanted anything more. This was more than physical desire, it was love, a deep life-long love that he knew would change him forever.

After a few pivotal minutes, the heated moment came to an end, much to their shared dismay, they pulled back just enough to rest their foreheads together, eyes still closed, chests heaving and hearts hammering as the lights finally came back on, making them both jump, cringing at the sudden brightness that seemed to shatter the intimate bubble they were in. There was a nervous tension in the air, both of them realizing the magnitude of what just occurred and what it meant as they reluctantly opened their eyes.

Y/n was the one to take charge and say something first, “Bucky…we should talk.” He didn’t say anything, only nodding his head in agreement, knowing they did need to have that discussion, but dreading it, all the same, it could make or break everything between them and Bucky wasn’t sure what he wanted more; the chance to be with y/n and risk their lifelong friendship or not risk it and just keep things the way they were, as much as it would kill him.

As you looked up into the striking blue eyes of the boy who held your heart, your best friend, you knew it was time, it was time to tell him the truth. By delaying the inevitable, you were lying to him and to yourself and it was slowly driving you insane.

“Bucky…we should talk.” He didn’t say anything, only nodding his head in response.

You didn’t want to go outside into the rain, even though it wasn’t as ominous as before, it still wasn’t sunshine and rainbows and that set you even further on edge than you already were given the current state of things you found yourself in, but you and Bucky couldn’t have this talk in the middle of your school where anyone could overhear.

Mentally on the same page as usual, both of you ran towards Bucky’s truck without having to discuss it as you exited the building, he got there a hair before you and unlocked the doors, turning over the engine and blasting the heat on high as you both settled into your seats nervously, shaking the rain from your shoulders.

Peering out of the window in an attempt to avoid the awkwardness, you took in the rain still falling just on the other side of the glass, it covered the windows of the truck in sheets, making it impossible to discern anything beyond the inside of the cab, it was almost as if you and Bucky had been transported to a secluded cave behind a waterfall, it was beautiful and terrifying.

“You look beautiful y/n.” Bucky said, breaking your reverie.

You looked down and smiled, feeling yourself blush at his compliment, you don’t think you’ve ever heard Bucky call you beautiful and it made your insides warm and fuzzy, a feeling you noticed he brought forth more and more these days.

Turning to look at the man of the hour, you noticed the way he was gazing at you and it almost stopped your heart. There was so much love and admiration across his face, it felt like a strange mix of unnatural and something completely normal from him.

“Thank you Buck, you don’t look too bad yourself.” You replied honestly, the way his wet hair, now even darker from the rain, clung to his face, framed his blue eyes perfectly, the contrast between the dark and the light blue of his eyes made them almost impossible to look away from.

He smiled in return, “Thanks doll.”

You didn’t really know where to go from here, but you knew you needed to have this discussion with Bucky, too many things had happened, too many things had seemed to change and both of you needed to clear the air and figure things out. As much as your rational brain knew this needed to happen, your heart was trying to sway your decision. Don’t do this, you know addressing the elephant in the room could be catastrophic. Things are fine, chill dude.

You sighed, your inner turmoil making you even more frustrated when Bucky cleared his throat nervously, and when you looked at him, he had his hands in his lap and he was looking down at them. He was feeling the tension too, and you decided to just get this over with.

“We should probably -”

“I know this is-”

You and Bucky chuckled as you spoke over each other, both of you starting at the same time. He raised his hand at you, giving you the go-ahead.

“Okay Buck…I…I want to start off by saying that-that you mean the world to me, I couldn’t imagine living in a world where we weren’t best friends anymore. With that being said…something has definitely changed…the dynamic of our friendship has shifted, and I know where I stand on things but-but I don’t really know where your head is at about all of this. I’m not sure if all the…whatever you’ve been doing is to…to make fun of me or-“

“What? No, of course not y/n.” Bucky sat up straighter to correct you, “I’m so sorry I made you think that, really. I...I don’t really understand a lot of why I acted the way I did…or well…I didn’t at first…but I’m pretty sure I do now.”

He stopped but held a finger in the air, signaling for you to give him a minute and you nodded as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he looked back up at you, you were blown away by his revelation.

“I love you y/n…I am in love with you y/n. I don’t know why things changed but I know the exact moment they did, and I just…I haven’t been the same since and I can’t stop thinking about you. At first, I thought it was just...ya know…that I was horny or whatever but that’s...that’s not the case. I mean...you definitely do that for me…er…what I meant was that I am physically….umm…”

He stopped himself, sighing and shaking his head, disappointed with himself.  

Hearing those words from Bucky was bittersweet, it seemed like he felt the exact same way you did. He loved you...Bucky was in love with you too. Your world was shattering and rebuilding itself over and over as his words kept replaying in your head.  I love you y/n…I am in love with you y/n. I love you y/n…I am in love with you y/n. I love you y/n…I am in love with you y/n.

Bucky loved you.

Your best friend is in love with you.

You loved Bucky.

You were in love with your best friend.

The notion filled your chest with a warmth like never before, you didn’t realize it, but tears began to spring in your eyes, and you couldn’t stop smiling.

“Hey,” Bucky said as he made his way over to you, putting his hands on your cheeks to wipe your tears away, “Don’t cry doll, what’s wrong?”

You laughed at yourself as you looked up at him, putting your hand on his cheek to caress him and he leaned into your palm, enjoying the contact.

“Nothing’s wrong Buck…I just…I feel the same way. I love you too, I’m in love with you too. I tried so hard to ignore it and fight it, but it all became very clear to me the day of the football game that what I feel for you was more than friendship. And I was so angry, at myself and even you a little because I blamed you for no good reason, I was also a little guilty because I thought I was unintentionally ruining our friendship with my feelings for you. But…I love you too…I love you, James Buchanan Barnes.” You said finally, still gazing into the galaxy of his eyes as his face became alight with happiness.

“Don’t,” he shook his head, “don’t feel guilty, don’t be angry doll.” He said softly before he leaned down to place a chaste kiss on your lips, and you kissed him back, but it wasn’t rushed or hungry like before, it was soft and simple and…romantic, a simple expression of your love for each other and at the end, you separated and just smiled at each other stupidly for what seemed like forever.

“So, what are we gonna do about this, huh, doll?” He asked sweetly, rubbing his thumb over your cheek.

With a sigh, you separated from him, “Well, that’s what we need to talk about I guess, given the circumstances.” You shrugged.

“You’re right, we do need to figure out how far we’re gonna take this…if we’re gonna take this anywhere. And y/n, I don’t want you to think you have to do any of this or anything for my sake, I want you to be honest with me about what you’re comfortable with and what you’re not because I care too much about you and your feelings. I don’t want you doing that, m’kay? I know what I want outta this, but you need to tell me what you want or figure out what you want if you haven’t already, yea?”

You were a little shocked at the…maturity Bucky was displaying about this whole thing, it’s something you hadn’t expected going into this. Not that you expected him to act childish in any way, but he was being very level-headed, and it helped calm your nerves a great deal.

“Gee Buck, when did you become the grown-up one?” You quipped.

He laughed with you and shrugged, “I dunno doll, all I know is I don’t wanna mess this up. I’ve never felt this way about anyone, and I-I just don’t wanna fuck this up, you’re too important to me.”

“Saying stuff like that is not making it any easier to figure out the jumbled mess in my brain right now,” you said quickly, laughing under your breath at the end.

“M’sorry doll, I just gotta be honest with you, now that I finally can.”

“I know Bucky, and I really appreciate how mature you’re being about all of this, really. This is…uncharted waters for us and I don’t think either one of us really knows what to do next. Well, I mean, there’s the obvious but we have to consider the extent of things before we rush into something like that, being a couple, I mean…and everything associated with that. So much would change but at the same time, I feel like it would be just like old times. I want to…I want to be with you, I do. My biggest worry is that once we cross that bridge, we can’t take it back, and if things end up not working out two weeks later or-or two years later, I just…I worry about losing my friend in the rubble of our failed relationship. Your friendship means more to me than anything else, and I’ve already said that I have a hard time imagining a future without you in it. Does that make any sense?” You said after what felt like an eternity, you struggled with finding the right words, but you felt like you got the message across regardless, or at least you hoped so.

Bucky didn’t say anything at first, it was almost like he was taking what you said and really listening and thinking about his response before he voiced it, which is another thing you never thought you’d witness, Bucky usually had no filter, and it was strange to see him mulling over everything in his mind in front of you. But you were thankful for it, if there ever a time for him to surprise you with doing that, now was it. You hoped he wasn’t offended or upset with what you said, you just wanted to explain what your biggest issues were if y’all decided to make that jump. You still weren’t sure if you wanted to take that risk, but it was an enticing notion, one you couldn’t stop thinking about, being with Bucky. It was exhilarating to think about, what would it be like? What would your parents say, would they be happy, or would they disapprove? What would everyone at school think about it, everyone always thought there was more going on and this would just add fuel to the fire… what about what happens after graduation….

“I think I know what you’re trying to say y/n. You’re apprehensive to risk our friendship on a relationship that may not work out in the end, right? I-I am too. It makes total sense, and if we decide to take that chance, we can go slow if you want, make an easy transition from what we have now to what we can have...to what we can be. I want to take that jump, with you. But you need to decide if that’s what you want too.”

Again, his thorough and methodical response floored you, it was blowing your mind, and you realized it was a very attractive look on him. Not that he was a complete mess before, he had his moments, but seeing him take such an approach to this was very endearing.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m worried about. And yea, you’re right…I need to figure out if that’s what I want too. But that- that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with you Buck, I do, I really really do, I just…I need some time, I guess. To figure it all out. Is that okay?”

Bucky scooped you into a bear hug, not squeezing too tightly but wrapping his arms all around you and resting his cheek on the top of your head, “Yea doll, that’s completely fine, you need time to process. I get it. M’not mad or upset. Promise. Just...don’t leave me hanging too long, yea?” He pulled away from you, keeping his hands on your shoulders, and smiled down at you.

You smiled back up at his beautiful face and nodded, agreeing to not make him wait too long for some type of answer, one way or the other. Part of you wanted to kiss him again before you got out of his truck but you decided against it, you didn’t want to give him mixed signals, you needed to try to stay as impartial as you could and not lead him on and give him the wrong message in case you decided not to go forward with a relationship with him, so you gave him another quick hug and a peck on the cheek, saying your goodbyes before you opened the door and stepped out of the cab of his truck and quickly made your way to your own vehicle a few spaces away.

The rain had stayed fairly constant, never really going away nor getting any worse, during your conversation with Bucky, so you got soaked all over again as you ran to your truck, and you hated it. You hated being wet and cold, so you turned on the heater and the seat warmer once you started the engine. You sat there for a bit to try and warm up, shivering, before you turned on the wipers, put your truck into gear and backed up out of your spot, and made your way onto the main road, all the while the boy next door on your mind.

Watching y/n run through the rain to her truck and getting in, Bucky couldn’t stop the happy laughter that escaped him, he was elated hearing she felt the same way as him, he never thought he’d get so lucky. He did his best to stay calm and not overwhelm her with everything he wanted to say, and he was immensely satisfied with himself, he could even tell she was impressed by how well he handled everything too, and that caused pride to swell in his chest, knowing he made her proud of him.

Shaking his head, he turned on his wipers and began the process of making his way out of the parking lot and towards home, still over the moon that the girl he loved, loved him back. He hoped more than anything she would agree to be with him, but he decided that if she didn’t want to move from friendship to a relationship, he’d do his best to respect her wishes, not wanting to risk their sacred friendship over getting rejected.

She loved him.

His best friend was in love with him.

He loved y/n.

He was in love with his best friend.

He finally told her, and now, they had a real shot of being together, and that made him happier than he’s ever been, he couldn’t stop smiling.

She loves me too, y/n loves me…

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#Bucky Barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky x reader fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #a/u bucky x reader #a/u #slow burn #a love that lasts #friends to lovers #teen bucky and reader #marvel fanfiction #xxmackenziexx

[demon-winchester]

Tremors Behind The Veil Chapter 11

-Chapter 11-

“Well Lydia, here we are” I said as I was opening the apartment door. Light coming from the living room windows . . . Home sweet home.

“Hey look, how about you get some sleep and I run some errands?” I continued as I started making the bed. “Sure” she exclaimed in a low tone, she looked pretty uncomfortable. “So then, you’re free to do anything you want, plus you get the bed. How does that sound?” I exclaimed as I touched her shoulder. “I don’t want to take your bed, it’s your house . . .” she replied with a tired tone. I nudged her towards the bed and she chuckled,  I haven’t seen her smile in days. “So now that we got that figured out” I said laughing, “how about you give me a list from the stuff you want from your house so I can bring them here in no time! Oh and whatever you need just call and I’ll be right there”.

I knew I was getting close when I saw the church . . . An old, colorless building that somehow attracts tourists. The underground tunnels started somewhere around here and some of them were extending under the church, that ought to be fun . . .

I had the supermarket list and Lydia’s list in my hands as I was riding down the elevator but I knew there was something I needed to do first.

“Hey Luke, what’s up!” I said as my friend picked up the phone.

“Holy shit Aiden, it’s 9 in the morning, what happened?” he replied in between yawns.

“9 in the morning and you’re still far asleep . . . Now I can sleep safe at night knowing the cops of the city are busting their ass off from early in the morning” I sassed while getting in my car.

“Oh shut up you dick, I’m after a night shift.” He laughed loudly as he always would.

“You’ll wake up Aria, chill out” I exclaimed.

“Bro we got in a fight again yesterday before I went to work, kind of on me this time but you know how it is, we’ll figure it out some day” he replied.

“Anywho” I continued, “I need a favor, have you heard anything about a murder of a male, ages 40 to 50, I think it was a pretty gory murder too” I uttered in disbelief . . . I never thought I’d have to have this conversation.

“Yeah dude, of course, why?” he replied concerned.

“Well, I need to know the location and if you have cleared the crime scene” I exclaimed in disgust . . . God what am I doing.

“Bro, what have you gotten yourself into” he sighed.

“Please, it’s really important . . .” I said

“Fucking hell okay, it’s close to the church of Santa Maria, there are some underground tunnels. Well, the crime scene is located inside a room in tunnel 13 but be careful, it’s really fucked” he uttered disgusted.

“I will be and I’ll make it up to you, how about I buy you a coffee next week?” I said, already driving towards the church.

“Sure why not, we’ll set this up another time though cause I don’t want to fuck up my sleepiness” he said chuckling.

“You got it, ciao!” I replied.

“Bye Aiden and please be careful.” He said yawing already.

“I will be, don’t worry” I replied as I closed the phone and I put on some music.

*Black wedding starts playing*

~~~

I was walking around the tunnels looking for number 13 and the atmosphere was horrid. All my instincts were screaming at me to run away but no, I needed to put my theory to rest. God, what wouldn’t I give to be in my couch right now, reading a book and warm rays of sunshine hitting my face but no, the murder had to happen in a dark, damp and frigid place. Why won’t the murderers change their style a bit, I feel like I’m in a fucking horror book with all these clichés happening.

The time was passing . I was walking around inside tunnel 13 and I had my eyes open . . . The place felt even colder and I thought I was being watched at times. At least I was getting close to the room judging from that horrid smell.

 I still couldn’t get over the feeling of doom. The tunnels were extremely narrow and it would be difficult to escape if something happened. The smell was becoming more powerful each step I took and the sound of water drops hitting the ground was driving me crazy. I was already anxious of the way back.

The water drops were still echoing and the anticipation was killing me, "now or never" I thought to myself as I pulled the sheet.

I saw police lines from afar as I was approaching. . . Finally I stood before the closed door but the stench made me want to run away. I grabbed the police lines and I peeled them all off. The door opened with ease revealing the crime scene before me and good God, "crime scene" was an understatement . . .

The room was lit by a red lamp that was flickering constantly. Blood covered the walls of the dark room and weird scriptures were written on the walls. "Fuck" I thought to myself, "It's time to take off the sheet".

I - I have no words for the body . . . I wouldn't even recognize who the lifeless man before me if not for his tattoos. His head was beaten to a pulp and his brain was scattered on the walls behind him. I rushed out and I started puking, I couldn't take this anymore. "DAMN IT" I screamed punching the wall, "I fucking need to keep going". I stood before the door once again and it took all my willpower to take the step once again.  His chest had some things carved on it but I couldn't make any of them out . . . 

I heard a screech from the tunnel. I pulled out my phone and I started taking pictures of the crime scene and the body. I rushed out of the room and I started moving from where I came from. I heard the screech once again and apparently it was coming from where I entered. I quickly turned around and started running, deeper in the tunnel this time.  

I summoned my armor and I coursed my hands through my face leaving a mask behind, I wouldn't want a cop to see me like that. The screech kept getting closer. As I was running through the corridor my claustrophobia kicked in. It seemed like the walls were progressively getting tighter and tighter. I felt like I couldnt’t breathe and I started smashing my hands on the walls as I was running but to no avail. I was stuck in here. I felt the corridors swallowing me. . . The tunnel finally seemed like it was getting wider. I took a turn and a wall was in front of me. The screeches kept coming closer and I couldn't really fight in a corridor. I looked at the wall and it seemed really old, maybe I could break it. I started hitting it and slowly parts were coming off. After a few punches a person could fit and I slid through. I bought myself some time and a bit of hope shined through. The corridors were pitch black. I summoned my sword and I activated its purple glow. The architecture was different than before, old masonry hugged the walls, poorly made wooden crosses were hanging from the ceiling and names scribbled all around me. Torches were placed on the deeper walls. The names decreased as I was moving forward and the scribbles looked messier. The crosses were tossed on the ground and they were more, so many more.

I reached a dead end once again. This time a massive door stood high right before me. It had a pitch blak colour and some inscriptions written on it in gold details, I went closer and I brushed off the dust.

"We saw blood fall from the heavens and skies turned crimson

 Angels let out screams of sorrow

 Hell is empty, the dead walk among the living

 Be wary child, run away, leave this path forgotten"

For fucks sake I'm a reaper, I should be able to pass through, evidently it is their - my job to gather souls from unlikely places. I put my hands against the door. The vines once again started expanding more and more, eventually embracing each and every side of the door. It took a hell of a lot of strength to move it barely just so I could slither through. A hot wave of air hit me the moment I opened it. I grabbed a few of the torches and I threw them through the door. I was very cautious as I was struggling to go through the gap, prepared for anything or so I thought.  The stench hit me the second my head went inside the room. I can't even describe it, my nose stopped working as I was making my way inside the room and as my vision was getting used to the darker space.

The goddamn screeches were still folowing me! FUCK I screamed and the creature started laughing, that's never a good sign.

To hell with that I said under my voice and I, turned my sword to its normal mode and I started hitting the door but not even a scratch. I summoned my pistol and yet again the bullets did nothing, it was like the door defleced everything I threw at it. . . BANG BANG I heard from the start of the corridors. The creature was trying to go through the wall gap, I have to think fast. If the door truly deflects my attacks maybe it's imbued with some kind of protection spell from supernatural stuff.

The hope died swiftly. . .

That's what death looked like. . . 

Not something in a rennaisance painting or a job done by a seral killer, what I was seeing was real death. I was in a tomb. . . Bodies piled high, entire families shoved in holes made for coffins, dozens of others dumped left and right. The place was deathly silent but the atmoshere reeked of panic, the decomposing faces had terror drawn on them. Their open mouths and their empty sockets made you hear their screams inside your head. Bodies of grown women holding their newborns in their hands and two childlike husks in the corner of the room holding each other. I heard the screech from almost outide the door and I didn't want to move. At that moment I wasn't afraid. . . I was facing torment and for a split second death seemed peaceful compared to whatever these poor souls had to go through. . . Where am I . . .

I grabbed a torch and I moved towards the north wall were a rotten wooden sign was placed.

I couldn't avoid touching the bodies. . . The sound of stepping on rotten skin is not something I will be able to forget. . . 

Oh that's not good at all.

"Unclean as they may be please Lord protect them

 May they reach their final resting place by your side

 Guide them to your light

 Here lie the tortured souls of the Black Death victims

 Under the Santa Maria church may they souls be blessed"

The ground started shaking and dust fell off the ceiling, something was moving the door and I'm about to find out what. I grabbed another torch and sent it flying towards the entrance. I heard a low screech and I saw a leg emerge from the door but it kept going and going. 

The creature was huge, its head almost touched the high ceiling. An ominous laugh came from its mouth. "Not even a Hello?" it said still laughing. 

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU" I screamed grasping my sword with all my strength. "Oh he doesn't even remember me. . ." it exclaimed in a serious tone, "I was in the airport a couple of days ago but oh silly me, you couldn't see me couldn't you" it continued with a smile.

My eyes widened. "You were the fucking spirit, what do you want from me?!" I said, slowly approaching it. "Oh from you? Just your valuable time haha" it said smirking.

It closed the door and it started crawling around the room like a fucking cockroach. "You see, I picked up both your scent from the airport and Damien was right, his plan would indeed go prefectly" it continued. "What fucking plan!?" I asked angrily. "Well he somehow knew you would return to Athens and he needed a distraction for Lydia to stay alone and what better than turning her dad to a puzzle" it said and started laughing uncontrollably.

I felt weird. . . I knew I was mad but it wasn't the normal anger, I was calm, I counted each and every one of my next steps inside of my head. . .

"Nothing to say?" it contniued

My eyes turned black, my wings got out and I rushed towards it, within a glance I cut two of its four legs and I nailed the last two on the wall with my wings. It started screaming but I didnt even register the screams.

"Where is she and what does he want to do with her" I asked calmly. The spirit kept going.

I pushed it down on the floor, I kicked its chest and I put my hand on it, dark vines started covering its body.

" I SAID WHERE IS SHE AND WHAT DOES HE WANT TO DO WITH HER" I screamed. "He told me to tell you to go back to the apartment, I don't know what he wants with her, please let me go, I'm just the messenger" it howled on and on.

"Thanks for your cooperation" I said as I turned the vines to smoke, a sigh of relief came from it.

I grasped my sword and I slid it into its skull. . . 

Absolute silence once again.

"Just the messenger my ass" I let out in a low tone as i drugged my sword out of its lifeless body.

Finally I could see my house, I closed my wings as I was in the air, I curled up and I smashed through the window, I was standing in one knee inside the living room, shards of glass all around me.

I need to leave NOW. I smashed the pillars keeping the room in place and the ceiling descended. I shielded my self with my wings and I jumped straight out.

I was now inside the church and the tomb was located exactly beneath the altar. At least it was night and there was nobody here. I shot the ceiling and some tiles fell down, I had to cover that tomb the best I could. I extened my wings and I flew straight out the ceiling hole with all my speed.

 "LYDIA" I screamed. "WHERE ARE YOU?!".

#magic #angel #demon #writer #fanfic #scenario #fantasy #supernatural #youngadult #reader #dark fantasy #creepypasta

[spnsmile]

Strike (My Heart)

SPNSTAYATHOME @pray4jensen​ @helianthus21​ @bend-me-shape-me​

Monday: Thunder

When Billie came to the Bunker, she found the couple pressed by the control panel in a messy tangle of heat skin, legs wrapped around naked waist and flushed faces— silence fell upon the earth.

Not a pin drop could be heard from the distracted couple who stares Death in the eyes. Death who didn’t bat an eyelid before pulling her eyes to survey the empty vicinity. When she looked back, Dean was making a face, certain now that Death wasn’t going anywhere. There’s a staring contest until Castiel nudges the hunter’s chin with his cheeks. They whisper at each other. Dean’s face contorting even more, then both stare at her again. When Billie didn’t disappear, a very annoyed hunter glares and says—

"Do you mind? Can't you see we're a little caught up here?"

Billie flickers impassive eyes to Castiel who quietly presses his lips and turns to hide his face on Dean's other shoulder, the tip of his ears red. Dean scowls at her. Next thing, the angel pushes Dean away and ducks to grab his discarded pants on the floor. Dean grumbles after him and follows suit.

Death ignores the sounds of belts and zippers around her until both are decent enough to face her untimely visit.

“I need to speak to Jack.” She says.

“Well, why don’t you pop up where he is and stop getting in other people’s way, how about that?” Dean says, clearly unforgiving. “There’s plenty of room in the house, right?”

“I told you this was not a proper place,” Castiel mutters, trying to pat away the wrinkles on his shirt where Dean’s hands had been. Dean moodily helps him with his tie while Billie’s eyes narrow at the two.

"I need you both to concentrate."

“No shit.” Dean arches an eyebrow. Castiel elbows him but too late. Billie transfixes Dean a cold stare and yes, when you’ve started two Deaths in the eyes it makes things a little cliché, so what makes this any different?

Except Death doesn’t discriminate. Wielding her scythe, she propels it to the floor with a flash and bang— a loud crack of thunder overhead and then she’s gone, leaving Dean taking steps back from Castiel, feeling the air around the angel zinging in a familiar way. He makes a move to approach Cas again but the angel, blue eyes striking and all, glares at him with jaws clenched.

“Don’t.”

Dean stares.

Shit.   What did Billie do?

“What do you mean you can’t touch Cas?” Sam demands later when he and Castiel figure out what happened.

“I mean it in every literal way, Sammy.” Dean smiles despite it all. Sam wasn't amused. The brothers are sitting by the library table while across them, Castiel and Jack are listening quietly. Dean catches Cas’ eyes and they both grimace at the space apart.

“So you mean, if you touch Cas— fuck you , stop grinning!”

“Let me  strike  you an example.” Dean stands up and heads to where Castiel is sitting. The angel sits straight and frowns when he sees the hunter approach him.

“Dean.” He warns in his gravelly voice.

“Don’t worry, Cas, let’s just show em—”

“I don’t think it’s safe—”

“Just hold out your hand, or a finger, okay?”

Castiel is obviously very much against it but he did. Sam and Jack watch as Dean raises one finger to touch the pad of Castiel’s hand. The instant he did, thunder rumbled in the walls of the Bunker and a strike that doesn’t appear to be physical seems to hit the hunter.

Strike 1.

Dean grimaces with all the hair in his body standing on ends. Sam gapes, Jack’s eyes are round while the angel squints at his boyfriend with an I-told-you-so expression.

“She made Cas— untouchable?” Sam guesses but there’s Jack patting Castiel’s shoulder and nothing happens. The Winchesters exchange looks, then there’s Sam stepping close to Castiel.

“Sam.” Is the only thing Castiel said but then Sam is also patting his shoulder and nothing happens.

That’s when all three eyes fall on Dean whose frown deepens, finally understanding Death’s curse. Even Castiel looks lost for a moment.

“What exactly did you do?” Sam asks suspiciously, though there’s an edge in his tone that suggests he knows exactly  what. “Dude, you’re an idiot. Do you really have to go piss off all the gods in this universe to make a point?”

“I didn’t know Billie was gonna make house-calls for her daily job. But more importantly, what are we gonna do now? How do we fix this?” he throws the question straight to Castiel. The two of them stare at each other, mutually trying to communicate how the hell they’re going to go around it.

“I think this is the part where they say,  ‘save yourself’ .” Castiel offers in the silence, a feat which everyone knows Dean sucks at.

***

By supper all the research and summon come fruitless so Cas and Dean are forced to stay away on corners of the kitchen table. It didn’t bother Sam and Jack because they can still approach Dean and Castiel without literally getting hit by lightning. It didn’t seem to bother Castiel too because the angel is immune to any lightning strike, leaving Dean a pile of rejection because Castiel won’t let him any nearer until they find a way to ‘ not get Dean hurt,’ .

“That’s bullshit!”

Castiel lets Dean get struck by lightning three strikes in a row. The fourth strike he tells Dean to fuck off where the man sulks in one corner not talking to anyone.

Dean is left to admire Cas from the side, sulk even as Castiel has fun with Sam and Jack on the table where Dean chose not to sit. Castiel glances his way when he is not preoccupied and stares, he gives Dean is apologetic and sad. There was nothing they could do less Dean embrace all the lightning strikes and claps of thunder— something Castiel would never approve of so they separated. For Dean’s sake.

Dean hates every second of it. There are times he can’t control it. Be it an accident or simply on purpose because Dean likes trying his luck.

Castiel knows what Dean was doing. It didn’t take him long to guess when Dean yet again tried standing behind him from the sink or when Dean extended his hand on the table with Castiel at the other end, indicating that Cas reached out too. The angel ignores him.

“I’m leaving for an indefinite period of time,” Castiel tells Sam one evening when at the last straw he escapes Dean’s arms when Dean tries to tackle him in the kitchen again, leaving the hunter shutting himself off in his room in frustration. “I can’t take this, Sam. Your brother just keeps throwing himself at me, if I stay here, he’ll eventually gets toasted—”

“Is that smarter?” Sam asks with a pointed look at the angel, “Cas, Dean’s been… dying to hold your hand. You think running away will hold him back?”

“I’m not sure anything can hold him back.” Castiel gives a shaky laugh. “I just want to protect him, Sam… even if it means pulling away…”

“So is the same song we sing every time we care too much, Cas. But at the end of it, Dean will be hurt. You’re just choosing another way for him to feel it.”

Castiel stays silent, Sam lets him. After a moment, he turns a somber look over the entrance to the corridors where his ears can pick up Dean’s sharp intake of breath.

“Must be hard to have a pain in the ass lover?” Sam’s smile is teasing. Castiel bows his head with a chuckle, before glancing up to meet Sam’s eyes.

“I’ll take Dean in any way.”

“Thank you, Cas… for always looking after Dean.”

“You know I’d do anything for him…but… why do you think Dean thinks he’s the only one desperate to touch?” the question leaves his mouth before he can stop himself. Sam gives him a small smile and like a real sympathizer, Sam grips his shoulder in a friendly gesture.

“Hang in there, Cas. You and Dean can get through this too.”

Castiel nods, trusting Sam’s words of wisdom.

Three days later and still no solution, Dean has had enough. He is painfully aware of the time that he isn’t holding Castiel or kissing his back, his shoulders, his lips too soft and plush—

Enough.

He chances Castiel along the corridor where the angel’s blue eyes flicker in familiarity, a smile upon his lips that quickly disappears when Dean walks straight to him and embraces him tightly.

A rumble comes—another crack of thunder. Followed by Castiel shouting Dean’s name in both stricken and exasperated tone.

Sam and Jack glance at each other from across the table in the library. Light nights strike again and more shouting. Sam shakes his head, giving up as he looks back at his research, sighing.

“Idiot.”

Inside the Dean Cave is a lightning show. Dean traps Castiel in by standing in front of the doorway with a determined look, his arms wide open like a goal-keeper in some frenzy soccer ball. Castiel stands at the end of the room with the couch and table between them.

“Stop it, Dean!” Castiel grates, blue eyes flashing. “You’re only going to hurt yourself!”

“I don’t care! Three days is long enough! A man’s gotta feed!”

“Feed—?”

“You!” Dean takes a step forward and every time he draws closer, the air around Dean spins.

“You’re being ridiculous! You know we can’t!”

“Oh, yes can ! Give up, Cas! Just come here and gimme a nice little squish!”

“Forget it, Dean! Why don’t you find someone else to scratch your itch!” Color leaves Castiel’s face the moment he says it. Dean grins.

“You want me hitting on some hot girl outside?”  

“If you’re that desperate!” Castiel growls. Dean’s eyes glints playfully.

“Fine.” He lowers his arms and stands straight. “I’m going then.”

Castiel falls silent with a flash of hurt in his eyes. Dean laughs and takes several steps to the distracted angel who finds himself immediately trapped with a wall behind him. Dean’s upon him the second he looks back. Damn hunter agility.

Still, his eyes are on Dean speaking volumes of uncertainties.

“You’re going, Dean?”

“Of course not, dummy. Come on, man! We’re not children to play who’s gonna be more mature, think we’ve done enough!”

Castiel bristles. “Stop it.”

“I want you!”

“You’ll hurt yourself!”

“It’s fine!”

“NO!”

“Cas— dammit, I’m already in pain—if I’m gonna die then at least let me kiss you one last time!”

“You’re not going to die, Dean, but I won’t let you get—"

They’re both being dramatic and silly but the cracking of thunder is unforgiving and lightning over Dean won’t stop striking. Castiel watches in horror as every bolt hits Dean solid—they haven’t figured out why the lightning seems both tolerable and painful for Dean at the same time The only truth Castiel knows is that every time Dean gets a strike, his whole body turns white to the point you don't need to be an angel to see through his body. Something about Dean burns.

It wasn’t a fun sight to see.

“Dean, let go!” Castiel shouts trying to pull away but won’t budge,  “DEAN! LET GO!”

"No!" Dean's arms trembles.

"Why are you doing this!?"  Castiel watches in terror.

"Don't play dumb, Cas! I know you want-- shit!"

"DEAN!"

Lightning dances in Castiel’s eyes and Dean gets toasted.

“NO!”

All the lightning bolts suddenly get siphoned by Jack who acts like a conductor. He draws all the lightning and rolls of thunder his way, consuming all the energy with hands clutching Dean’s shoulder until they go away.

Leaving Castiel with an unconscious Dean wrapped in his arms. He heals Dean at one embrace, keeps healing Dean just to make sure there was no damage on any of his organs or nerves. He kisses Dean too for good measure.

The warning roll of thunder never came. Dean remains safe in his arms so Castiel holds him closer, buries his fingers on Dean’s side. Jack helps him put Dean on the couch with the angel setting Dean’s head on his lap. There he strokes Dean’s soft hair quietly. Jack returns to tell Sam what happened and that everything’s okay.

Finally, Dean stirs. Castiel holds his breath as the familiar green eyes find his.

He strokes Dean’s cheeks and when the man opens his eyes, the angel beams from ear to ear.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean takes Castiel’s face for a moment then smiles sleepily. He reaches for Castiel’s hand and pulls it to his lips. Castiel smiles warmly, butterflies in his stomach spinning like it’s been hit by a light bolt. That’s just it. They don’t need any thunder or lightning. They are enough.

“Can we kiss now?”

Castiel gives Dean the longest, sweetest kiss he can muster.

Dean Winchester yet again was able to strike home in the angel's little heart.

@verobatto-angelxhunter​ laaaatteeeee ;p

AO3

#spnstayathome #destiel crack #destiel ficlet #destiel fics #romance #fluff #dean is in pain #dont touch castiel's baby

[asgardianthot]

Hunting Season (sambucky) – Part 1

Fake Dating AU

Series Masterlist

Summary: The Barnes family is your average rich people circus. With Bucky’s post-breakup financial depression, and a literal treasure hunt at stake, his best friend Sam finds himself in a mad situation in order to help him. They sure can pretend to be together, but that’s just the easy part.

A/N: You want some clichés? I’ll give you some clichés! Fake Dating, friends to lovers, asshole ex-boyfriend, only one bed, mutual pinning, slowburn, you name it :) Also rich!Bucky headcanon because I can.

Words: 3944

The night before.

"What is it this time?" Sam answered the phone, preparing for the rant he was about to hear.

On the other end, Bucky sighed heavily.

"Everything?"

Sam kept his chuckle in as he poured the freshly cooked spaghetti on a plate.

"That's a new one." He rolled his eyes, "Is he still calling you or something?"

"Yeah, and... God, I think I might take him up on his offer."

Although his friend's tone was extremely off-putting, Sam knew him too well and was certain that Bucky wasn't being serious. He was just saying it to be dramatic because he felt trapped. Still, he needed to be reminded that there was light at the end of the tunnel.

Wilson placed the phone between his ear and shoulder so he could take his meal to the table which was a few steps away from the actual kitchen zone.

"No, you won't." Sam reminded him.

"I might!"

Bucky didn't sound honest, but he sounded desperate. He had broken up with the world's biggest, most monumental jerk a hundred times before, yet for various financial and emotional reasons, Bucky had also returned to the man too many times. Sam knew there was an emotional bond, a toxic one, but never asked to what extent, he just made sure Bucky didn't fall back into his webs. Recently, though, it seemed as if he had come to his senses; hadn't picked up the phone when the devil's name came up on his screen for weeks, didn't even mention the master manipulator in a long time.

Sam sat at the small table and put his phone on speaker, next to his food.

"You can't just go back for his money, man."

"Well, I can't keep crashing at my parents’ house, either." Barnes replied with more anguish than Sam had expected.

He sounded like he was fed up with the whole living situation. Although the Barnes weren't necessarily bad, they were inherently overwhelming and controlling people with whom Bucky had already spent eighteen miserable years; Sam understood how downright exhausting it must be to go back to them for help, and he understood why he hated it there. He probably had just gotten into an argument, but Sam still felt empathy towards his poor friend, because Sam's parents were the nicest people on earth- sure, they pried and judged from time to time, but only the normal parental amount. He couldn't imagine growing up in the Barnes' house.

So instead of spurring out laments and empathic hums, he focused on finding Bucky a solution, reminding him there was a way out of the mansion-trap.

"What about that job?"

"I didn't get it." There was a hearable stop, followed by a groan, "I don't know what else to do, I don't know how much longer I can stay here!"

As he worked his brain, Sam shoved a forkfull of spaghetti into his mouth, using the time he was chewing to concoct a quick solution. His friend just needed some caring aid, and Sam was good with home finances, he's good at being responsible and setting down instructions. He's a college professor after all, so giving orders and helping people in confusing times was wired into his bones.

He swallowed before speaking, "Tell you what, why don't you come over and we'll figure something out?"

-

Sam was just finished doing his single dish in his single apartment when Bucky got there. He opened the door and found the resemblance of a lost puppy.

"Thank you."

The host ushered him inside, and while Bucky closed the door behind him, Sam returned to the kitchen to finish putting everything away.

"Don't thank me yet. We need to come up with a plan." He turned to him with a mildly disappointing glance, for he was expecting a disappointing answer, "Just to be clear: no savings?"

"Nope." Bucky popped his 'p' with exaggerated defeat.

"Remind me to call you an idiot later."

"Will do." He nodded.

While Sam put away the now clean pan on the bottom counter, James found himself shame-walking to the table. He sat down, extended his arms over the furniture and let his head drop with self-pity.

"What about your folks, are they really not willing to help out?" Sam tried.

"They won't give me a single penny."

"Can't say that I'm surprised."

As soon as Wilson headed towards his friend, he noticed Bucky was waiting for him to be able to stay one hundred percent attentive. He was fidgeting with his fingers and bouncing his leg up and down, looking way too nervous for being around Sam, his best friend whom he trusted more than anyone. So, Sam got the severity of the issue and sat down on the table with him.

"Listen..." Bucky began, although he missed Sam's eye contact on purpose, "I was thinking... and I know that you've already supported me enough, but maybe... you could, uh... Lend me some money?" Suddenly, his face contorted in anguish as he was clearly embarrassed to even ask; before Sam could respond, he started rambling, "Just to get my own place, and I promise I'll pay you back as soon as I get some stability."

Sam tilted his head with sympathy.

"Of course I can lend you some money. But it's still a risky shot, dude."

Seeing him shrug, Sam noticed the evident sadness and surrender in James' face, and Sam wondered if it had been the devil ex or the Barnes who had sucked the hope out of him.

"It's all I got. I can't stand my parents any longer."

Sam nodded, and they fell into some silence. The discomfort coming from Bucky's end of the table was palpable, so Sam attempted to ease some of the tension.

"You can always just leave the country and go live with your sister." He joked.

The way Bucky looked at him with a small smile, Sam could read the gratefulness in his eyes.

"Nah, I could never leave you." Barnes taunted back, "You'd crumble."

"Yeah, that's it." Sam looked away with lifted, disbelieving eyebrows, "Definitely not the other way around."

He got a chuckle out of his best friend, and in comparison to the glim aura that had been surrounding him the last minutes, it was a relieving sound

" 'sides, she wouldn't get off my back either." Bucky added, "Rebecca's not an option."

Once again, silence dropped on them, only this time it was a pensive one. It didn't take long for Sam to have the best idea he'd had yet.

"Drink?" he offered.

"Please."

-

"I'm telling you, I can't seem to do anything right." Bucky admitted in between sips of wine, "The more I try to fix my shit, the more I mess it up, and that's Brock's cue to jump right back into the picture and offer an easy way out."

"You can't let him control you." His friend reminded him, "You're better than that."

Bucky had heard that speech a hundred times, and a hundred times he had lowered his head with shameful agreement, like a toddler being reprimanded and responding with the generic You're right, I'll do better. However, this time, Barnes was honest. Too honest, for Sam's taste, actually. Staring into nothingness as if illuminated by some divine realization of disappointment, he clacked his tongue.

"See, I don't know that I am."

Sam, on his part, was having none of that.

"Yes, you are. You've just made some very questionable choices." He slurred, and only then did Bucky realize how drunk his friend had gotten over the past hour, "And you wanna know why?"

With the last question went a very unpreoccupied hand gesture, employing the hand which held the glass of red wine like he'd forgotten the wine was even there, and therefore almost spilling it all over his carpet.

Bucky cringed and reached for the now turned dangerous beverage.

"I think that's enough wine for you." He laughed, trying to pry the glass away.

"Because you never listen to me!" Sam ignored him, which was Bucky's cue to effectively grab it and leave it on the coffee table, "I told you not to let him pay for stuff in the first place. Told you if he owns everything you share, he owns you."

The words, Bucky remembered from many times prior. The harsh tone, though, was relatively new.

"It just sort of happened." He shrugged, "I lost my job and suddenly..."

As Bucky lost his trail, Sam filled in with amusement, "You became a housewife from, like, the 1950's."

Barnes smirked in an attempt to lighten the mood, and escape the current lecture he was receiving, "Why is that bad?"

Unfortunately for him, Sam was not playing along.

"Because you can't hand them your independence. Not to your parents, not to Brock Fucking Rumlow, not to anyone. You know what's worth more than money?"

"Let me guess, my freedom?"

"Your dignity." Sam laid out the words with much more seriousness any drunk man should be able to convey.

Silence followed the rough declaration, and Bucky sat back. He pursed his lips at the ground, feeling even more judged in that apartment than in his parents' house. At least, they nagged about things that were insignificant to him, but what Sam had just dropped was a truth-bomb that resonated with his deepest concerns.

"That hurt." He admitted.

He wasn't upset, and even less with Sam. This was what he needed to hear, after all, and he could always trust Sam to be responsible and hones, but that didn't mean he would sleep on that sentence until he made some real changes in his life.

"It's just the truth." Sam grinned with somewhat lament as he reached for more wine.

-

The day of.

Sam woke up the next morning with the smell of fresh breakfast, and a hangover. When he managed to get on his feet, he walked down to the living room, where he found Bucky preparing something in the kitchen. Last night's events came back to him at the sight of his face: his cry for help, one late night talk and lots of wine. That's pretty much all that came to mind, which made him wonder what his drunk persona had put Bucky through.

"Morning, pal!" the voice made him jump a bit.

Bucky seemed cheery, which meant that he'd woken up hangover-free, and that drunk Sam hadn't been a pain in his ass. Sam felt he could relax.

"Did I really pass out on red wine in my own couch?" he groaned, scratching the back of his head.

Walking closer, he recognized what Bucky was preparing as french toasts, and his rumbling stomach felt grateful.

"Like a grandpa." Bucky confirmed with a mocking tone.

"Jesus Christ." Sam sighed.

"Don't let your dad hear you say the Lord's name in vain."

The warning reminded Sam of Bucky's parental situation. Bucky was one of Sam’s few friends who knew Sam's parents, and they'd gotten along many times, whereas Sam had never even met the Barnes. He knew Rebecca, but that was about it, and he figured they must be real characters if Bucky kept them away from him.

Sam let his body fall flat onto the couch, and covered his eyes with his arm rather dramatically, "I'm slowly spiraling down into a mediocre professor's life."

"You're not a mediocre professor and you don't have a mediocre life." Bucky denied him the right to self-loathe.

"I disagree. Your problems are the highlight of my week."

"Stop moaning and eat up."

As Sam raised his arm to peak, he found a plate of french toasts and a cup of orange juice being offered to him.

He gave Bucky a look of ultimate gratefulness as he mumbled a thank you and received the food.

Suddenly he appreciated more than ever that his friend was good at cooking, even though it probably came from a tragic backstory like his many childhood maids taught him in order to replace the absence of his parents or something.

"Least I could do." Bucky reckoned, meaning the fact that Sam had welcomed him into his home and offered to help him with his financial situation, "This, and dragging you to bed last night."

Sam visibly cringed before taking a big bite, "Did I say really dumb stuff?"

Bucky reflected on that idea for a hot second. Sam had, as a matter of fact, spilled out some truths, but Bucky didn't want to embarrass him, so he simply let it go.

He chuckled instead, "Nah, just the usual stupidity."

On his way to prepare some coffee, he checked his phone and noticed he'd received a text: we need to talk.

-

He knew what this was about. Which was the reason why he told his parents to meet him for lunch, some place they would approve of, after he'd had time to tidy up and borrow some of Sam's clothes. All just to minimize the judgement he was about to endure.

As soon as he sat down on the restaurant table, Barnes father hit him with that familiar severity.

"Where did you spend the night?"

"A hotel room." Bucky replied.

"You can't afford one."

"And I have you to thank for that." The tone quickly shifted to one of mutual accusations, "You're the one who cancelled all my cards."

"James." His mother joined the conversation in an attempt to get Bucky to lower said tone.

"It’s fine. I'm gonna crash at a friend's house.” Bucky directed the eased words to his mother, "Until I get on my own feet- which I will."

"A friend?" the dad interrupted, "Is that what you're doing now to pay for a roof over your head?"

Bucky raised his eyebrows, unamused, "Are you calling me a whore?"

"James, your father and I are worried." The woman reached over the table for her son's hands, "We want you to get yourself out of this... low spot. And last night, you proved your immaturity to us by throwing a tantrum and running away."

"Wasn't a tantrum." James retrieved his hands from his mother's grasp, "Look, if you're not going to help me out financially, then I see no reason to indulge your criticism. Otherwise it's just free abuse."

The older man rolled his eyes, "Always the drama king."

A cloud of silence fell upon the three people, thankfully soon joined by a waitress who took their orders. After they all delivered their monotone words and handed the lady their menus, Barnes father went back to the same topic.

"So, who's paying for your stuff?"

Bucky sat back on his chair, "Oh, we're still on that."

"Just wanna know how much I owe the poor soul. You keep forcing your financial situation on people, you're gonna run out of friends."

Eventually, James found himself in a tight spot. Whatever answer he gave his father, the man wouldn't be satisfied. His own son begging for money was beyond simple disappointment. The only time George Barnes had approved of Bucky depending on someone was when Brock Rumlow owned his life, because Brock was a family friend and a fine young man. Naturally, an opportunity popped into Bucky's head.

"Well, he's not a friend." He announced, earning attentive looks from both his parents, "He's, uh... we're a couple. He's not lending me money, we're sort of... living together."

Something in their eyes told Bucky they weren't buying it.

"Since when?" the mother asked.

"It's been sporadic. But we're stable."

George Barnes narrowed his eyes, "I take it it's not Rumlow."

"No, I told you, that's over." Bucky shook his head.

"Then I wanna meet this guy."

"Oh, invite him over to Nana's." The woman clapped her hands together.

The simple thought of the upcoming family vacation made him lose his appetite. Every year during spring break, the Barnes would get together for some quality time at their grandparents’ lake house. Bucky figured that this year, he probably would spend one or two weeks there before he could manage an excuse to leave. That was before he made up a fictional boyfriend, though, and the biggest problem was he didn’t have a boyfriend to bring.

"He has plans for the break." He lied.

Winnifred gave him a look that yelled incomprehension, as if she was incapable of fathoming the idea of someone not wanting to join their plans. "He can cancel them, he'll have more fun at the lake house anyways!"

"It's just that-"

"He'd love it.” Her voice began doing that thing where she sounded like she was genuinely begging, instead of simply manipulating, “And maybe you two could win Nana's hunt this year."

Now that caught Bucky’s attention. That actually made him reconsider everything. The Barnes had some very odd traditions, some Bucky loved and some he despised; but there was one in particular he had very mixed sentiments about, and which now presented itself like lifeboat.

"Right. The hunt." He trailed off, contemplating the possibility of participating in the godforsaken annual hunt.

"So what's he do?" his father’s words snapped him back.

"Huh?"

"Your boyfriend. What does he do?"

Bucky swallowed hard. In a moment of complete panic, his blank mind went to the easiest way out: the person who had actually offered his house to him for the night. Sam’s occupation was the only thing that popped into his head.

"He's a... professor.” He blurted out without much thought, “University."

"That's lovely." His mother approved.

Shit. It only then occurred to him that he was effectively making up a boyfriend, job and all, which meant he certainly couldn’t get away from it now. And it would only get worse as he dug into his lie deeper and deeper.

"What do I call him?" the older man asked.

Once again, Bucky found himself gulping.

-

"You told them what?!" Sam exclaimed.

Bucky sat with his head down in shame, while Sam paced around his own apartment, furiously.

"I'm sorry." Barnes said truthfully.

"You could've dragged anyone along with your dumb plans.” Sam ignored him and continued scolding him. “Why me?"

The appellee sighed, "It was an ambush, Sam, you should've seen it."

"I don't care!"

"They were asking me all these questions, it felt like a fucking quizz!” Bucky’s lamenting state turned much more hectic as he tried to explain his actions, “I panicked, I don't know, it just came out."

A big breath of disappointment shook Sam’s chest. Of course, he tried to understand Bucky when it came to his family. He did his best. But this was too much, for now that pressure had been transported to Sam. The weight relied on Sam’s shoulders as a whole. Still, he figured there was no way out of the hole Bucky had dug for the both of us. If the Barnes thought Sam was their son’s boyfriend, then that’s what he was. At least, until Bucky found an exit for both of them.

Reflecting on how this would be the last favor he would ever do for his friend, and at the same time acknowledging that was just a lie he told himself, Sam sat next to Bucky, who seemed expectant of more judgement. Much to his surprise, Sam’s words weren’t harsh.

"I take it they wanna meet the boyfriend." He said, a lot more nonchalantly than either of them expected.

Bucky looked at him with wide eyes, "Shit, are you serious? Would you do that for me?"

"Yeah, wouldn't be the first time I get you out of trouble." Sam ran a hand down his face.

"Sam, you’re-“

"The best, I know.” Wilson glanced up at the ceiling for strength, laying back on his couch, “So when do we have to put on a show?"

There was a brief silence, only interrupted by the sound of Bucky’s fingernails scratching the back of his head, which dropped another wave of tension upon the pair.

"That's the thing." Bucky cringed.

"What's the thing?"

"You know my family's lake house?" he tempted.

"No. No, no, no!” Sam found himself standing up at the mere thought of what he knew he was being asked, “I am not going to the middle of rich nowhere with you and your folks."

"It would only be a week.” Bucky raised his voice with a plea, earning a look of disbelief from Sam who felt like a week was not worthy of being introduced by the word ‘only’, “But, with a bunch of family members."

Samuel shook his head, clear disbelief plastered on his features.

"You don't realize how insane you sound right now."

"Hear me out, this is a good thing. Just... listen.” Bucky raised his hands in defense, “You know how my grandfather left his fortune to Nana?”

Doing his absolute best to stay open-minded, Sam nodded. Perhaps Bucky was headed somewhere with his explanation.

“Well, she has this... odd way of getting rid of it."

"The hell you talking about?" Sam frowned, growing inpatient.

"I never told you ‘cause it made me sound even more of a trust fund baby."

"Which you are."

"Point taken.” Bucky tilted his head with acceptance before he continued, “But this is good for both of us. She hates giving out her money, but she has no use for it, so she... makes it into a game every year."

Sam remained quiet, becoming more and more upset because he started getting an idea of what this was about: money and his family’s eccentric behaviors. And of course, Bucky meant to bring Sam into both of those things.

"I hate your family."

Bucky couldn’t hold back a tiny smirk, "You won't when you find out how much the prize is."

Suddenly, Sam found himself considering the offer. He narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I'm listening." He said, unprepared for the number he was about to hear.

"Four million dollars.” Bucky laid out like he was pitching him a job offer, which, in some twisted way, it was, “We split it, I can get back on my own feet, gain my independence... and you get two millions for being such a good friend."

The amount of money was too much for a family game. The idea sounded too ridiculous for any normal family. But then again, these were the Barnes. Therefore, while Sam was having a hard time processing the information, he blinked fast, maintaining eye contact with Bucky, almost as if waiting for his friend to break character and reveal that this was all a joke.

"Two million dollars?" Sam confirmed.

"Two million each." Bucky nodded, expectant.

Sam had to sit back down, but not next to Bucky this time. He sat on the coffee table, still digesting it. The prize was more than what he made in a year. And it really seemed like this was Bucky’s best solution to all his problems.

"And it's a game?" Sam asked with that same cautious tone.

"Yeah, it's a... treasure hunt.” Barnes shrugged, “With, like, challenges and stuff. She cooks up the entire thing in her twisted little mind."

Sam nodded, at nothing really, but just as a manner of expressing that he had processed everything properly.

"But we'd have to pretend for a full week and actually win the thing."

"Nana loves me, 've always been her favorite. You butter her up, she'll give us the cheats. Make it easy for us."

The man nodded again, this time with purpose, "Okay."

"Okay?" Bucky raised his eyebrows with hope.

"Okay." Sam raised his voice before he could regret the choice, "Let's get this prize."

#sambucky #sam wilson/bucky barnes #sambucky fanfiction #sambucky au #fake dating au #fatws #ftws #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #marvel fanfiction #sam wilson #bucky barnes #slowburn #only one bed #rich!bucky

[riotatthemovies]

Castle Freak (2020)Warning vague spoilers. This is a long one.

I can not believe how conflicted I am with this film. A horror remake should just make me say Bleh who cares, but there is definitely something here.  The first feature by director Tate Steinsiek who is normal a special fx artist. Steinsiek for sure has a great how for atmosphere and movement in the camera that most young horror directors lack these days. Gorgeous colour, musical timing and many of the actors are actually not bad. However I do have a pretty big hate with a lot of the cast. In the original it was a family of a husband and wife with their blind daughter. Now its a young couple and the wife/ girlfriend is blind but they choose to bring along party friends that like to party. Making them seem like spoiled adults that feel like children, the kind of characters you'd seen in a Slasher. Spoiler warning if you have not seen the original Castle Freak. In the original the lead male is a terrible person but a tortured soul that you very slowly learn how tortured he is and how he teeters between a good guy and a piece of shit on a daily basis. Thus being a metaphor for drug addiction. The root of his problems was alcohol but we would forget that after awhile only to be unsettlingly reminded of it. Making you love him and hate him in a very awkward way. HOWEVER in this remake the lead male is just a junkie bro. He just wants to sell the castle and the estate and seems to hold no remorse for the bad things he has done. In the original this character puts on a happy face knowing bad things has happened just to help deal with the pain but in the remake I don't believe its a face, he has no idea he is an asshole. So you just want him to die like any Friday the 13th fodder, which is not this kind of movie. Also they add in a group of friends so the film can flesh out (which the original did not have). I have no issue with this change just too bad these characters are annoying as fuck. Feels like Hostel, annoying Americans in a foreign country. Especially that the Americans are stoners , talking about lizard people conspiracies , cocaine and how they are so woke. One character is souly called the Professor and I just want to slap him so badly that the scenes he is involved with no matter how important are lost on me with my visceral anger towards his face. There is a huge added element of Lovecraft cult magic added this this remake. Many people have reviewed it and not liked adding this element souly because its different from the original. The cult elements are actually decent and they work it in ok however when Americans like The Professor talk about it , it starts to sound stupid as fuck. Some of the dialogue is pretty rough with unsuited lines like "Hey nice glasses" and "How do you  think I feel I’m fucking blind", adding in the occasional , dude, babe, bro and chill that ruin the atmosphere.  They Americans come off as cliché bullies or childish party characters from KIDS, which may or may not be the point. In recent horror remakes I find it weird where what used to be metaphors of drug addiction just became directly about drug addicts in a supernatural situation. I cant tell if these hip recent writers have done too much drugs or maybe not enough. Feels like people who would go to Coachella showed up in Castle Freak to ruin it, you know like they do to everything else.  BUUUTTT still something is here.  Cause lets talk about the Freak. Not only is he spot on for the original but adds to the creepy and gross in the performance. Spoiler again, when I say HE , that was only in the original. When this twist is revealed in the remake the scene is so outrageous that I can't tell if I am amazingly disturbed or if I found it hilarious. Just sadly the movie is no where near enough about the freak. Less people more freak. Less talk more ambiance.  I feel the director would have done better with a script that wasn't for a slasher because the feel was there. I guess you could say its the ultimate homage to Full Moon as its filmed like Castle Freak but written like Demonicus (and if you know that film you know where the problem lays).  It has its flaws but as a fan of the genre its totally worth seeing and talking about as it perverts the whole thing and you know I enjoy the outrageous and stupid, so yeah I liked it, just maybe not how they wanted. So yeah in closing, yes I liked it, most won't . The elements I bitch about are just because the rest of the film is fun, creepy and beautifully made. Just the pop elements make things a little outrageous and ruin something damn near great. But I gotta admit it I kinda love outrageous and the wild ride this movie eventually goes on was for to me. Mixing elements of Stuart Gordons magic from the original Castle Freak and Dagon and more than a wink to From Beyond but as always adding bros and ruining the party. Again I do really recommend it now on Shudder. I would love a classy extra feature filled Blu Ray of this though. Cause it’s a movie worth talking about. Stay for the credits for the Marvel like extended universe bonus scene.. yep pretty dumb but as a fan its total fan service.

#castle freak #horror remakes #shudder

[quidfree]

For prompts: any OCs, maybe something like fake relationship? Sorry if you don’t have OCs I’m curiois

i have so many ocs for my original projects that narrowing it down for this was a nightmare buuut here we are anyhow- something v short and dumb

-

“i just don’t see why van and viv couldn’t have done this,” joa says for about the thousandth time when they get there, aware that he’s been stuck on this refrain since two weeks ago and that his partner is near his boiling point but entirely unable to stop complaining. it’s like something in him thinks if he just points it out one more time someone will take notice and put an end to it.

“van and vivienne could have done this,” ezra says, in the voice he uses when he thinks he’s being extremely patient and long-suffering. “but this was your mission, and if you would have preferred to be here with fucking corlett it is not too late for me to trade places.”

“dude,” joa says. ezra shoots him a look.

“you can’t call me dude. we’re madly in love, if you’ll recollect.”

ezra is funny like that; the pissier he gets the more clipped his vowels get, like those rich new england types that had sometimes swung through california on holidays, all east coast condescension. privately joa thinks ezra has more in common with that crowd than he’d care to admit.

“dude, even if we were really-” he waves his hand vaguely “-i’d still call you dude.”

“you call your girlfriends dude?” ezra inquires, shrewdly.

“thought the whole point was the not being a girl thing.”

“corlett,” ezra threatens, so he shuts up. normally ezra wouldn’t do that to him, or at least would never concede defeat, but when ezra’s really angry there’s no scruples to his revenge plans. as much as he feels ready to drink himself sick with nerves and discomfort at the two of them crashing this stupid wedding, having corlett on his arm instead would ensure he died of liver failure before the bride even hit the aisle.

he doesn’t like how antsy this has made him. ezra doesn’t say it but it’s obvious he thinks joa takes some issue with the gay thing, which isn’t true- he’s normally the most adaptable of them to whatever era they get stuck into; he was the first to know about van, and that’s a whole different ballpark. it’s not the couple he cares about, it’s the acting.

all the lying, sneaking bits of the job- subterfuge, vivi would say- he gets it, but he doesn’t like it. even when it’s shit he knows, is good at, like charming strangers or blending into groups, he feels bad for the people he involves. he knows it’s stupid- it’s not like he’s usually hurting anyone, and the whole point is that they’re helping. van finds the whole exercise fun, and vivienne thrives in it; even ezra, who never does anything but play himself, commits to the bit unflinchingly. he’s the only one who gets nauseous each time they make him do some extended charade. he doesn’t know why they couldn’t just go around killing people without lying about it to boot.

normally ezra knows this kind of thing about him, but if ezra has one fault it’s that thing about missing the forest for the trees. when he’s prickly about something he loses his usual invasive-cum-insightful observational skills. that this particular bout of acting is making him more nauseous than usual is neither here nor there.

despite what viv claims, joa is not entirely convinced that ezra can’t read minds, because just as he thinks this, his hand is grabbed with all of the affection of a snake winding around his arm to cut his circulation off. 

“c’mon, suck it up.”

he only just manages to turn his wince into a half-assed grimace, which earns him a foul look.

“i can’t feel my hand.”

“shut up and look like you love me, bride number one is heading this way.”

she is, inexplicably, looking delectable in a pearly white gown, blonde hair piled in curls atop her head. once their presence registers she smiles at them distractedly, eyes scanning them without recognition. it kicks him into work-mode, smile blooming wide and familiar as he extricates his hand from ezra’s to clasp hers.

“miriam! i’m joa, elena’s cousin- tia grassi’s son? and this is my partner ezra. it’s so nice to meet you, you look beautiful.”

“oh, joa, of course,” miriam says, warmly, relaxing as she gestures them in. “it’s a pleasure to meet you too.”

“i’m surprised they have you manning the door,” ezra comments, gesturing to the entrance they’re stood under. “thought that was what the guys in suits were for.”

“sure, sure,” miriam laughs, self-effacingly. “i’m not really playing valet. it’s just we’ve been waiting on the last cake delivery and i’m trying to get the guy through to the back before anyone accidentally tells elena. she’s convinced something’s going to go wrong.”

“sounds familiar,” joa says, with a knowing smile towards ezra, who just about curbs his eyeroll. “also sounds like something you shouldn’t be worrying about on your wedding day. where should we direct him?” 

miriam’s brows raise in surprise; he tries to broadcast sincere helpfulness her way. 

“oh- really? you’d do that?”

“of course. i know how elena gets.”

this sells it; she sighs a little in relief, shakes her head. “you’re a savior. the hall, through the back- it’s just down the ramp and to the left. are you sure?”

“what’s family for?”

only once she’s out of earshot does ezra shoot him a look, eyebrows quirked with amusement.

“what’s family for?”

“fuck you, it worked.”

“your customer service act gives me the hives,” ezra says, although he’s smiling  even as he reclaims his hand in an only marginally less painful grip. joa’s stomach re-knots itself. 

for all that he hates the lying the job involves, there’s something especially discomfiting about roles like these- ones where they keep their names intact, where the stories they construct keep big chunks of their lives unaltered. to the wedding guests they’re still joa and ezra, longtime friends and constantly travelling free-lancers; they may not be time-travellers and there may be some additional intimacy implied, but this joa and ezra have the same back and forth, the same inside jokes, the same dynamic. it makes the lines even blurrier and the lies even more uncomfortable. 

“you look like you’re about to hurl.”

“maybe i am.”

“you’re not. you’re a consummate professional and there’s an agency supervising us and also if you do i’m throwing your mini-fridge out of a window.”

“you wouldn’t like me sober.”

“you wouldn’t like anything sober. i’d tough it out.”

“remind me not to ask you to host my bachelor party.”

“i hate weddings,” ezra says, sourly. joa grins, heartened by his bad mood. viv calls them bad friends for always cheering up at each other’s misery. van calls them disgusting.

“hey, c’mon. this might be fun.”

“oh, sure. i love spending an entire evening pretending to care about two strangers’ impending divorce.”

“oh, c’mon. what about your moms?”

“they’re divorce lawyers. they’re outliers.”

"okay,” joa draws out, just to make him scoff. “themed missions, though. exploding wedding cake? that’s fun.”

“it’s also one of fifteen assassination attempts we’re handling tonight.”

“glass half full, honey.”

ezra flushes an unflattering but extremely charming shade of splotchy red. “half full of arsenic, if case files are to be believed.”

joa sighs, rocking back onto his heels. “talk about cliché, dude. even the cake bomb is more original.”

“messy, though.”

“hey, you love buttercream icing.”

“not mingled with my intestines, i don’t.”

“here comes the truck. are we doing salt lake city sixty five?”

“you read my mind,” ezra agrees, smile curling at the edges of his mouth. “you want the driver?”

so maybe this whole thing won’t entirely suck, joa thinks, smiling back. when ezra’s distracted his hand’s not even that bad to hold.

by the time the afterparty is in full swing, he’s kind of having a good time. foiling assassination attempts always puts him in a good mood, and the service was nice, for what it’s worth- he’d wondered how it would work with two women, but it was sweet in the end, just a couple of tweaks to the sermon and a lot more bridesmaids. he’d cried. ezra had hidden a laugh and complained at length about christianity. dinner had been nice too, although he’d had to eat in quick bursts what with the constant leaving to go thwart ploys to kill the bride. they’d done it under the guise of sneaking out for quickies, an excuse which had earned them surprising amounts of goodwill at their table. gay weddings, and all that.

regardless, they’ve handled attempts numbers one through fourteen and he’s feeling good. the work balances out the awkwardness- sure, he gets queasy when ezra is calmly explaining their meet-cute to strangers, but five minutes later he’s holding a stall door shut while ezra knocks someone’s face into a toilet and it calms his nerves. besides, whoever organised the wedding decided on an open bar for the night, and he’s been downing his fair share of drinks while ezra’s back is turned, which has pushed him into bright magnanimity. ezra will cover for him if he overdoes it, anyways- he still owes him for how coked out he got at that disco in the seventies. 

ezra has launched into a spirited debate of twenty-thirties midwestern politics with some elderly relative; he sips his rum and coke, tuning out the familiar fast-paced scratchy speech to gaze around the room. the music is nice, for the era. so are the brides, currently waltzing merrily around the room and blissfully unaware that this night’s happy ending will set into motion a series of events leading to the discovery of the cure for cancer, or that someone with a penchant for theme has employed fifteen different mediocre hitmen to stop that from happening.

the little themed cocktail umbrella would make a sweet addition to his collection of mementos. as he twirls it he thinks that he was expecting this to be harder, or worse, the whole couples pretence. really dating ezra has just been the exact same as not dating ezra, with some additional niceties thrown in for their audience’s sake. he doesn’t mind the niceties- ezra’s hard to be nice to on the regular, so it’s neat to have him cornered, and besides watching him struggle not to break composure throughout is fun. it’s weirder when it’s ezra’s turn, because ezra’s lying is always half true by default, and it makes him wonder which parts are the lies. 

he’s a little cold in his linen jacket and his drink is gone, so he follows his thoughts and drifts back towards ezra, drapes himself over his back. ezra stiffens like a corpse but doesn’t miss a beat in his sentence, because of course he doesn’t. he’s warm, though, and besides they’re playing pretend boyfriends, so he thinks he’s entitled to some shared heat without it being weird.

“maybe joa could be of use,” ezra is saying currently, obviously trying to throw him under the bus. “joa, do you remember who it was we saw that time with cousin esther at the thing in santa monica?”

“oh, sure,” joa says amiably, chin now resting on his bony shoulder. “rafael.”

the middle-aged couple make noises of recognition; ezra snorts in silent laughter, the movement making his shoulders jump. it’s a lucky guess primarily founded upon the statistics in his actual family. his cousins have shit luck- three of them with the same name has left them with some abominable nicknames. his previously name-dropped tia grassi is the only person stubborn enough to call them all rafael, just in different registers of disappointed suspicion.

ah, his tia grassi. funny woman. mildly terrifying. her fourth wedding had been an event, though he can hardly remember the second half of it, seeing as she’d refused to cater to the child-havers amongst the family and not left any of the punch alcohol-free. all he really remembers is her wedding dress, the cream-coloured version of her default pantsuit with the horrible bow. it’s funny- from where he’s stood there’s a woman right in his line of vision dressed in an orange abomination that looks exactly like the kind of thing only his tia grassi would subject some distant relative to on the day of their wedding.

wait. fuck.

“corazon, my tia grassi is here.”

"no, she’s not.”

“i’m serious, she’s walking right towards us. lady in the orange. fuck, she must be pushing a hundred.”

“shit,” ezra curses, sparing a nod for the couple he was talking to. “excuse us.” 

“she’s following,” joa warns with mild fascination, as they bee-line towards the garden. 

“great,” ezra says, glancing disbelievingly over his shoulder. “why the fuck is she following? and why is she even alive in this decade? how old is that woman?”

“ageless, i don’t know, she probably thinks i’m family,” joa mutters, glancing back. “which i am. just deceased family. she’s not gonna let up, you know.”

“you and your fucking bloodhound relatives. look, we can’t leave, they’re still going to try and do the thing with the fireworks.”

“well, we can’t stay either, or i’m getting marty mcfly’d out of existence, and i’m kinda partial to existing.”

“how is she even following us? scent alone?” ezra mutters, just a shade hysterical, as they wind their way past the bar. “we might have to pull a vermont.”

“oh, dude, no way,” joa says, immediately nauseous. “c’mon. it’s a wedding.”

“you were fine with it when you were beating that guy’s face in with the floral arrangement earlier!”

“yeah, and he was trying to ruin the wedding. this would be us, ruining the wedding. we would be the wedding ruiners.”

“we could choose someone neither of the brides like! they’d be grateful!”

“dude, i am not killing any guests at this wedding.”

“the only other option is worse!”

“no option is worse than murder, ‘zra, that’s kind of murder’s whole thing.”

“yeah? you rather kill hitler or fuck him?”

“always with the ultimatu- woah, woah!”

his second woah gets swallowed, which is probably for the best; ezra’s planting one on him with real determination. his brain short-circuits a bit or something; he doesn’t think to push him off, just lets him at it. it’s usually what works best when ezra’s on a mission, and also as it turns out ezra’s pretty good at the whole kissing thing, and also his nerves are singing and his blood is boiling and he is maybe, potentially kissing back, distractedly and then with intent, their bodies slotting together against the tacky fake rosebush as plastic thorns dig into his back and ezra’s sharp-nailed fingers dig into his shoulders. alcohol has made him warm and fuzzy, but there’s nothing drink-sloppy to it- just continuous, almost familiar ease, and his heart pounding painfully in his chest.

ezra pulls off first, with a nasty sound, head whipping around wildly as joa registers absently that the fireworks were going off in real life too.

“i can’t believe that actually worked.”

“three cheers for latent latin homophobia,” joa says, on auto-pilot, because right, his aunt, and time travel rules, and something. maria joseph and jesus, he’s just kissed a man.

“that and you not being violently sick on me,” ezra says, turning back to face him with his usual frown slotting absently into place. he looks awkward and irritated with his awkwardness and also extremely well-kissed. joa is struck with the realisation that he is entirely fucked in the head, because he finds the picture supremely enticing.

“dude,” he starts, because to be honest they have been skirting around this particular issue for a while and it’s hard to find a time and place to discuss it when it’s not weird or a capital offence. ezra is all narrow-eyed suspicion and coquettishly heaving breaths, which is not helping him focus but definitely helping convince him to labour the point. “i think we should probably- oh, shit, wait, the fireworks.”

he’s running before ezra can so much as cuss, and he gets there just in time, tackling the man right into the bushes and out of harm’s way, voice raised to an apologetic, casual slur even as they grapple for the gun.

“oh, my god, i’m so sorry, i must be drunker than i thought-“

the element of surprise wins him the fight; he manages to slam the guy’s forehead onto a marble lion a couple of times, sound drowned out by the fireworks above.

“honestly,” a slightly out of breath ezra is reproaching nearby, all fond reprobation, and then again once he’s shoved through the bushes himself, losing the affect. “honestly.”

“it’s fine, it’s fine,” joa says, wiping bloody knuckles on the guy’s shirt. “that’s fifteen, right?”

“it’s not fine, it’s fifteen minutes early. if coda is going to send us on these chickenshit gigs you’d think they’d get the fucking timings right.”

“it’s fine, he’s out,” joa repeats, shoving upwards and brushing bits of bush off his clothes. “viv’ll be angry about the suit though.”

“right, like she’s in the costume dep’s good books either after that stunt she pulled with the velvet dress,” ezra snorts, abruptly the voice of reason. “i can’t believe he was fifteen minutes early. that’s twice this week they’ve done this to us.”

“maybe we threw it somehow,” joa defends, rolling his shoulder. “you know the timeline warps the calculations.”

“we didn’t throw anything. twice in a week, seriously. what the fuck do we pay fees for if they can’t even get the timings right? this wouldn’t happen if we had a union.”

“‘zra, there are only ten of us. we are the union.”

“isn’t that a depressing thought. what were you saying earlier?”

“oh, that,” joa says, and then feels sick again. “hey, are you thirsty? i’m pretty thirsty actually.”

“don’t be an asshole.”

“i don’t know, honestly.”

“you’re not doing so hot on the non-asshole front.”

“oh, madre de dios, stop channeling your mom.”

“tu puta madre. i’ll give you passive aggressive.”

“fine,” joa breathes, in one big burst, annoyed and queasy and charmed all in one. “are we- like- ugh, dude, you know what-“

“specify.”

he pauses, exhales. “well, it just feels like maybe we should-“

“probably not.”

“right, but you’d like-“

“does it matter?”

“well, yeah, obviously. it’s just with work, it’s like... you know?”

“sure.”

“not that i...”

“sure.”

“although i don’t actually know if...”

“sure.”

“only then it’s like, overall- i think i want to kiss you off-duty.”

“mazel tov.”

“but would you mind?”

“did the tongue-fucking earlier not broadcast that enough?“

“jesus, dude, we’re at a wedding.”

“a lesbian wedding. that’s their expertise.”

he considers this point.

“hey, you wanna...”

“well, the body,” ezra says, albeit reluctantly. he doesn’t like mess.

“oh, sure,” joa says, thinking. “i guess maybe newark ‘02?”

“yeah, whatever,” ezra shrugs, but there’s a suppressed pleasure in the way he clears his throat. “blue’s your color, you know that?”

“my mom used to say. can you take his feet?”

“jesus, the shoes. hey, did you have some of that cocktail thing earlier?”

“yeah, a couple. there wasn’t extra poison again, was there? because last i saw the res-mac the mormons had it and i so do not want to go to their rooms again.”

“watch the stairs. no, and fuck those guys. i could just taste it earlier. the sour cherry’s not bad but the sugar in this decade tastes weird.”

“the rim is the best part, what the hell?”

“your palate is deranged.”

“you eat pickled fish, jackass.”

“fifteen minutes early. what a schlep.”

“kvetch.” 

“vete a la chingada.”

“don’t i have you for that now?”

“jesus, dude, we’re at a wedding.” 

“funny. so, bar?”

“you have blood all over your cuffs.” 

“like anyone’ll notice. dude, you know they do 360s on ice in this decade?”

“no shit.”

“yeah, right?”

“why the hell are we still standing around not drinking?”

“viv is going to be so mad she missed this.”

“good for her. i’m still pissed about the fucking plath thing.”

“oh, my god, dude. you’re such a hypocrite.”

“name one time-”

“seriously? abbie hoffman?”

“fuck you.”

“holy shit, i think i see my aunt again.”

“are you kidding me? is she part-K9?”

“you’re supposed to be cute about it and kiss me again.”

“i’m not going to be cute about it, i hate that woman. you kiss me since you want to be so cute.”

luckily for the both of them, joa has bad taste. he complies.

#qui ecrit #ocs #tt #qui repond #anon

[lavenderlattaes]

txt as high school au tropes

⇒ summary: txt in a high school au setting.

⇒ [ high school! au ]

⇒ pairing: txt x reader

⇒ word count: 2.5k words

⇒ genre: fluff

⇒ warnings: cursing, mentions of fighting, parties, making out

⇒ note: hello,, yeonjun’s cover got me so emo last night that i knew i just HAD to finish this so i can finish the bad boy au i had started writing for him sksks. Also i only had a bad boy fic planned for yeonjun, but if you guys think i should write for the other members too, please send me an ask! ignore mistakes bc im a bit of a blind bat and enjoy!  ＼ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ／

choi yeonjun:

↳ the bad boy

YES.

C’mon guys, this is badboy!!!! Yeonjun!!!!

okay, so yeonjun’s definitely the leather jacket wearing, motorcycle riding kind of badboy

the one that gets into all the fights (ง’̀-‘́)ง

the one that smokes and drinks and punches his way around bc he cannot, for the life of him, control his emotions and feelings ‾͟͟͞(((ꎤˋ⁻̫ˊ)—̳͟͞͞o

he’s also hardly at school

but on the rare days that he’s actually at school, he’s always punching someone or he’s all bloodied and bruised

like,,, dude do you wanna die N O W???

the first time you met was at the nurse’s office

oh wow i wasn’t expecting that

the nurse wasn’t around but you volunteered there frequently, so you were the only one there

the door opens and you’re surprised to see someone you’re not familiar with??

he wasn’t wearing your school’s uniform,,,

who is this dude and why is he heRE

but he looked like shit and like he was gonna die

so even if he may be part of some sketchy gang

you had no choice but to patch him up pspspsps

he was covered in scratches and bruises and his lip and eyebrow were bleeding

ffs man

you told him to go sit on a bed while you went around looking for all the supplies you needed

yeonjun was being a lil shit too, bc he wouldn’t cooperate right away but eventually after threatening him that he might die if he was being choosy about who’s gonna patch him he gave in

so you started to patch him up and he was just

s t a r i n g 

like 

⊙﹏⊙

D U D E

he’s really attractive if he just wasn’t into fighting all the time y’know

girls still occasionally wanna try “breaking his badboy rep” 

all that cliché stuff

you get really conscious under his gaze and then he asks for your name and you ask him what happened instead psksks

he goes (◕︵◕)

so you give him your name fAM AND HE SAYS, “I’m Choi Yeonjun”

pspspspp

and then he tells you that he’s friends with two other choi dudes who are also really well known in your school

and then it hits you

HE’S THE BADBOY EVERYONE’S TALKING ABOUT

damn y/n you’re so lost fam 

lmao so he does go to your school but you’ve never seen him before????

you finally finish patching him up and you wrap his knuckles in a gauze and his arm as well

hIS ARM HAD A HUGE ASS CUT btw

“what kind of fight did you even get into?” (´･(´･(´･(´･(´･(´･д･`) ･`)･`)･`)･`)･`)

“the kind where I almost die???” (￣ω￣;)

eye-

after getting him all patched up, you take a good look at him and whew he’s all better now

he doesn’t look like he’d die any minute 

then you smile at him like (✿◠‿◠)

AND HE SAYS 

“I like your smile, can I call you sunshine?”

PSPSPSPSPSPSP

yeonjun’s about to leave when you’re still bothered by the large cut on his eyebrow

“Wait!”

you pull out a cute rubber ducky cartoon band-aid from your pocket and place it on top of the cut sKSKSKKS

after he finally leaves and says goodbye, yeonjun suddenly can’t stop thinking about you

and maybe, just maybe, you can’t stop thinking about him too.

choi soobin:

↳ the rich kid

okAY so remember how badboy! yeonjun was friends with 2 other chois

Well duh who would those other two be (●´ω｀●)

so soobin’s the riCH KID!!

like, he be drippin in finesse yo

(okay that was bad)

he wears gucci, channel, louis vuitton, armani, all that shit

tO SCHOOL

jk you guys had uniforms

but there’s always something expensive on him

whether it be his shoes, or his bag, or maybe a ring

AND EVERYONE LIVED FOR RICH KID CHOI SOOBIN WEARING HIS ROLEX 乂❤‿❤乂

but he isn’t exactly the friendly type (๑◕︵◕๑)

he’s the quiet one out of the three of them and he always keeps a straight face

＼| ￣ヘ￣|／

Like that ^^^^

despite having literally no emotion on his face whatsoever, his lips always seem to be upturned in a pout ksskskksks

and despite his cold personality, that doesn’t stop the girls from swooning over him lol

so,, y/n you’re a pretty clumsy simpleton

dID I JUST USE SIMPLETON

and you somehow,,, idk 

the world hates u

you accidentally bump into him like really hard when he was adjusting his precious Rolex on his wrist and the collision caused his Rolex...to...fly…

basically you broke his watch.

sKSKSKSKSKSKKSKS DUDE

Y/N YOU BETTER RUN AWAY NOW FAM

and everyone that was there was like :000

And soobin is just ( •̀ω•́ )σ

And you’re ಥ_ಥ

but he just sighs, picks up his broken watch and slips it into his pocket and walks away as if nothing happened

HNGGGGG o(╥﹏╥)o

you’re so guilty that you started to come up to him everyday asking how you could repay him and if you could,,, you know,, pay for it in six months time or some shit

and after a few days soobin’s had enough of you following him around

and (￣ｰ￣)ﾉ

“can you stop annoying me? It’s an expensive watch, you can’t possibly pay for it”

wOW OKAY :///

“But i feel really bad for breaking it...( ˃̣̣̥ω˂̣̣̥ )”

so soobin decides to make you his “servant”

and you know it’s stupid ,,, just bc he’s rich as hell doesn’t mean he can treat you like that

but he wasn’t giving you any options so you had no choice

you followed him around now and well, somehow

you got to know the real choi soobin hiding under all that expensive clothing and jewelry

the choi soobin that built his walls up so high that no one saw except his other two friends

and now, you.

choi beomgyu:

↳ the heartbreaker

YES CHILDREN

THIS BOY

steals hearts left and right

or: also known as the fuckboy

skskskksksks

he slept around and girls always fell victim to his charms

aside from the fact that he was just really really good looking and handsome and gorgeous and-

he was also really friendly and funny

you’d see him at parties all the time, and sometimes with soobin and yeonjun too 

there’s always a random girl on his arm too lmao

beomgyu’s never brought a girl to bed more than once before

it’s always just making out for like hours and one night stands here n there

and flings here and there

never had a serious relationship ever

and all the girls at school are fighting to be the one he decides to “do” more than once

(・_・ヾ

i mean,, who wouldn’t want to be the first girl choi beomgyu ever fucks more than ONCE 

but you just can’t seem to share the same sentiment with the other girls at school

shouldn’t they be fighting over who gets to be his first serious girlfriend or sumth? the girls in your school r weird tbh

besides,, you’re too busy looking for new memes or something and aren’t fuckboys supposed to be the type to do one night stands anyway???

but you know, you’re the mc in this world y/n

and you caught beomgyu’s eye bc he’s always noticed you on your phone laughing at something or bopping your head to some cool new song

he can’t stop smiling every time he sees you do that

BC YOU’RE JUST SO CUTE AND OMFG IS CHOI BEOMGYU CATCHING ACTUAL FEELINGS

and get this,,, beomgyu’s never been the type to be all shy and flustered bc that’s just so not him

but then you get partnered up for a project and suddenly you’re approaching his desk with a bright smile on your face and 

sKSKSK heLP HIM SOMEONE P L E ASE

“hi! I’m y/n!” you extend your hand out for him and he just

ฅ(*°ω°*ฅ)

seeing beomgyu all flustered makes you giggle and he breaks out of his trance and goes back to his old self

“Hey, y/n. Let’s have a great time together(づ｡◕‿‿◕｡)づ”

so that’s how you and beomgyu become friends

even after the project ended you still hung out and you even became somewhat friends with yeonjun and soobin

you sometimes went to parties with him too

and whilst beomgyu fell deeper for you

you remained clueless as ever

you just thought it was him being friendly and stuff bc that’s what he does

what you did notice though

beomgyu hardly made out or slept with anyone at parties now

he hung out with you and played games with you and with soobin and yeonjun

and he didn’t usually go to parties now if you couldn’t make it!!!

and everyone can clearly see how much he LIKES?? LOVES?? you 

so yeah, maybe beomgyu’s gotten rid of his fuckboy ways bc of you.

kang taehyun:

↳ the valedictorian

name a smarter guy in your school than kang taehyun. Go

jk never gonna happen HE’S the smartest

literally breezes through his subjects like it’s nothing

idk how it works for you guys but in my school, we don’t have GPAs and stuff but anyway

he has like, an average grade of 99 (*•̀ᴗ•́*)و ̑̑ (and that’s a 4.0 GPA right????) 

PSPSPPS WHAT THE HECKITY HECK

and all the teachers love him ofc

he doesn’t have to sit in front to be THIS smart

he can sit at the back row and be all emo with choi yeonjun if he wanted to and he’d still ace a test

h o w ⊂•⊃_⊂•⊃

and not only that

he’s got a really good voice?? he’s in choir omg

no,,

he has the voice of an angel ★~(◡‿◡✿)

he hits high notes like how he breezes through his subjects

he’s the type of guy you bring home to meet your parents after one (1) date bc they’ll love him anyway

aND if he could get any more perfect,,,, he’s captain of your football team AND class president

AND I SAY WHAT

yUP

kang taehyun best boy _へ__(‾◡◝ )>

and you?

HAH

you guys are a match made in heaven

you’re his vice president, and while he’s in choir, you’re part of your school’s journalism club

plus, you’re smart enough to go against him but you like slacking off lmao

also

“you have all the glory in high school tae, i’ll kick your ass in college” PSSPPS

And if taehyun’s the captain of the football team, you’re captain of the volleyball team just bc

goals? I think so too (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

but sigh,,, yunno

as smart as taehyun is, he’s a bit dumb when it comes to matters of the heart

THIS IS THE ONLY TIME WE CAN CALL KANG TAEHYUN DUMB!! BECAUSE!! HE!! CAN’T!! SEE!! HOW!! MUCH!! YOU!! LOVE!! HIM!! (;¬_¬)

you’ve always loved him, but you realized it only when you guys won the science quiz bee the year before ⊂( ◜◒◝ )⊃

basically, you’ve loved him for more than a year now,, sigh

and you’re just trying to find the right opportunity to confess

wHEN BOOM you suddenly remembered you’re on the school paper!!!! ⌒°(❛ᴗ❛)°⌒

v-day is right around the corner and since you’re editor in chief, you decided that it would be nice to have a lil fun in preparation for the event

so you got the whole school dropping anonymous love notes for their crush!!

and the club went around pasting them on lockers for the students so they don’t risk the chance of getting caught pspsps

totally smart idea huh !(•̀ᴗ•́)و ̑̑

all for the sake of confessing your feelings for your best friend.

hueningkai:

↳ the popular guy 

this boi

loved by everybody

and i mean everybody

even yeonjun and soobin who seem like they don’t give two flying fucks about anything

like literally everybody wants to be his friend !!!

there’s nothing people have to hate him for honestly

he’s in choir with taehyun 

he follows no crowd bC THE CROWD FOLLOWS HIM SKSKS

“hey, kai!”

“ey, wassup! I like your top!”

(▰˘◡˘▰)

he’s a cute babie too oomf

the girls that aren’t swooning over yeonjun or beomgyu or soobin are definitely swooning over him

(with taehyun they’ve lost all hope bc they know his best friend’s the only one that’s supposed!! to!! stand!! next!! to!! him!!)

kai’s also really sweet and nice to everybody,, and i mean everybody

he talks to everyone, even those emo kids who sit at the back row

and even they can’t resist smiling :) 

he’s that kind of popular guy that’s really preppy and fun to be around

he’s the type to help girls carry their books, or help guys plan on how to ask their crushes out

everyone knows a lot about him bc he doesn’t hesitate to share and talk about his life bc he literally has no trust issues whatsoever

not in a bad way, tho!! he’s just really honest n stuff

but

the one thing that everyone doesn’t know about him is that he can play piano sksk ♫꒰･◡･๑꒱

they know he can sing, but they didn’t know he played piano like???

he’s never brought it up before

but one time you find him playing the piano in the music room

you’re in the art club and you guys usually stayed behind after school to work on your paintings and stuff when you were feeling like it

and it just so happened that you were staying behind bc you entered into an art competition and you had only two weeks left to complete your painting

but lately you’ve been running out of inspiration and decided to clear your thoughts first before going back to your painting

what’s that beautiful melody??? 

【・_・?】

and it led you to him and you were surprised to see mr. popular in the room

(*ﾟﾛﾟ)

and you didn’t mean to, but the door was ajar and you push it open even further to hear the song better

DUMB MOVE

a chair was resting behind the door and it screeched on the floor spsps

Kai turned around and saw you

“oh! Hey y/n”

he stopped playing and you could see a faint blush on his cheeks ≧◡≦

“you play piano? i never knew” you decided to just step inside bc he wouldn’t mind right? rIGHT???

yeah,, if he didn't have such a big PHAT CRUSH ON YOU

“uh yeah, it helps me to clear my mind sometimes”

“i was taking a break too, i couldn’t finish my painting”

sKSKSK AND KAI FOUND THAT PERF OPPORTUNITY TO SPEND TIME W YOU BY OFFERING YOU HIS COMPANY TO GO AROUND

he’s always liked you, ever since you were lab partners for an entire year,,

you occasionally talked, but since he was on the more popular side and you had a smaller group of friends it was hard for him to find proper alone time with you

but life’s good to this baby and he finally got to spend his time with you.

#txtwritersnetwork #tomorrow x together #txt #txt imagines #txt drabbles #txt scenarios #txt fluff #txt high school au #txt x reader #choi yeonjun #choi soobin #choi beomgyu #kang taehyun #huening kai #yeonjun scenarios #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun x reader #soobin scenarios #soobin imagines #soobin x reader #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu x reader #taehyun scenarios #taehyun imagines #taehyun x reader #hueningkai scenarios #hueningkai imagines #hueningkai x reader #txt yeonjun

[shamelessmakerhumaneggs-blog]

A Ninjago Au Story

The world that we live in has rules for us to follow, roles assigned for us to fulfill. If we refuse to follow the rules or choose to stray from the roles we were handed, Life herself chooses our fate. There was something that broke up the tension of doing things right, and that was the soulmate system.

When we come to the age of 17 we meet our soulmate. Though we don't know that the person we meet is the person we spend the rest of our lives with. Instead we each get an object that fits together like a puzzle. My life has been quite dull since the moment I was born. The role I was handed was one I wished to change. I was one of the people to have less, to not have the luxury of others.

I was born on the streets, in a dingy alleyway. I was handed the role of a homeless girl. The rules I have quickly learned. Stealing was not a way to get what I needed or desired to have. I only get it through hard work and those who are nice enough to help. I eventually lost my father to these rules, Life seeing as he stole to help provide for us and taking him away with an illness we couldn't get help for. I felt different though, not one to be held down by what I was given, only to make my world better with what I had.

When I was younger I didn't care for my safety or own well being, I cared about others and I did it because I cared, I didn't do it for a reward or for greed. One day when I had turned 10 I was visited by Life in all her beauty in the forest when I went to walk. She spoke with her eyes, and rewarded me for my goodness. She gave me the power to do good for others, to share what gifts I had to help others. One condition was to tell no one about this, some could try the same because of the power they wanted to wield.

That was what happened, let's get to present day, yes?

I watched over the city from atop a building I had climbed, bare feet dangling high above the ground and fresh night wind curling it's fingers through my hair. I wasn't really afraid of the long drop, only fascinated by the beauty of the view. Night had fallen a hour or two ago. The size too small leggings and large dirty hoodie were what I wore but I didn't care, it was warm and I was grateful I even had clothes.

I pulled my hand from my pocket and let the power fall from my palm. I held my hand to the skies and focused. Soon falling stars zoomed across the sky. I smiled at the sky, the scene reflecting in my e/c eyes like a mirror. I took a deep breath and looked across the city. My interest was peaked at something and I stood up to get a better look.

I wasn't know for smarts though-

My feet lost grip and I stumbled right over the edge, letting out a yelp as I fell. Now I was scared of the height. I screamed out and closed my eyes, waiting for either broken bones or a quick death. I luckily got none. A hand gripped at my wrist and my hand instinctively grabbed the person's wrist. I was yanked up and seated on something, eyes opening as I felt the wind rush against my body. What the hell? I was riding on a what looked like a dragon, a person in white in front of me. I gripped onto them for dear life, heart beating wildly in my chest.

The beast landed in an alley that was barely wide enough. The person hopped off before looking at me, extending a hand for me. I took it and was helped back to solid ground. I looked to the dragon and it suddenly poofed, particles of coldness dissipated and there was no longer a dragon. I was beyond confused. "You alright miss?" I turned back to the person, assuming it was a man because of the voice, and nodded silently.

"What just happened?" I asked dumbfounded. He gave a chuckle before explaining. I ooh'd and nodded. So this dude was a ninja, and had powers. Was I dumb? I have never heard of him. "I have never heard of ninjas in the city." I stated. "My team and I are secretive most the time." I hummed in acknowledgement. "You going to be okay walking home?" He asked, concern laced over his voice. "Yeah. I'll be fine."

He, from what I could tell, smiled and summoned his dragon once more. I looked at the white scales, icy blue accents and piercing blue eyes. I grinned and gave a pat to the dragons muzzle before waving goodbye to the ninja. Okay, from now on be more careful when on a building, don't be dumb again. I took the two mile walk back to familiar territory. I waved to all the people I grew up with, all happy to talk and share a piece of food they were able to get.

Eventually I reached where my mother and I were stationed. I settled down on top of the dirtied blanket and laid down, my head resting on my mother's lap. She looked down at me and smiled, placing a hand on my head and smoothing my hair back. I sighed as she continued talking with Henry, my street uncle. I closed my eyes and let my body relax, soothing movements of my mom lure me to sleep.

The next week I learned a few things about the ninja. They were a secretive bunch and I could sorta understand why. They protected the land, kept others safe and I loved it. They did have powers which got me thinking, If they had powers not like any other human, could I be a ninja? Nah, I doubt it. I sighed and hugged myself tighter. It was getting colder and from what I already knew it was going to be another hard winter. I didn't want it to be.

Looking down to my feet as I got to a more secluded spot in the city I spotted something laying on the ground. I tilted my head and kneeled down, curiosity causing me to grab and hold the thing. It was a chain necklace with a charm on the bottom. Looking closer it looked to be a half. It was a Yin, a small magnet on the inside of the piece. Something told me to take it so I did. I put it on and continued with my walk, confused as to why I seemed so drawn to the necklace.

Getting to my destination I stopped and knocked on a door. I was greeted by an elderly man and from what I guessed was his grandson. I gave a polite hello and was returned by a smile. "Hello Mr. Olive. My mother told me you had something for us today." He stepped aside and opened the door a bit more. "Ah, yes. Please come in." I entered the home, warmth encapsulating me like a blanket. Walking to the kitchen I was met with four dozen prepped meals accompanied with plastic silverware.

"Oh Mr. Olive, you didn't have to do this much." I smiled as I looked to the steaming meals. I was almost brought to tears. "Nonsense Y/n. I am more than happy to help out any of you in any way I can." I got choked up and let a tear fall. This man was the nicest person on the planet, kind and wise. He started to stack the meals and I helped out, Christopher, his grandson, helping pack the meals into the car.

As soon as all meals were put in the car along with lots of water and new blankets for the winter, we all set out to where most of us were living. Music played on the radio and I hummed along. The rest of the afternoon was handing out everything, making sure the kids who shared the same fate had good jackets as well. I loved helping out and being around those that helped. Seeing something like this happen brings the community together and it felt amazing to see people get hot meals, full stomachs and bond.

Once I said goodbye and headed on my own I found mom and sat next to her. We both shared a meal and talked together. She asked a question regarding the necklace I had found and I explained to her. She immediately had a huge smile on her face, giving a hug. I asked why she was so happy and turns out, I just got my object. I was happy as well, knowing that I was capable of being in a relationship with someone.

The rest of the night I imagined who I could've bumped into, who was my soulmate? With a good meal in my stomach I quickly fell asleep.

"Hello." I curiously turned my head to see who had said the greeting. I couldn't help but smile as the white ninja himself greeted me. He kneeled down with a styrofoam container held in his gloved hand. "Hello mister. How are you?" I greeted back in a playful manner. I took the container he offered and he sat down completely in front of me. "My team and I came by to hand out a few things to those in need. The winter is going to be harsh this year so we decided to help out."

I smiled and gave thanks as he handed me a plastic spoon. He held up a finger as he got up, excusing himself to do something. I watched him jog off and give a few people some waves. He approached who I guessed was his team mate who handed him a blanket. The ninja was handing them out to everyone. He jogged back and sat back down in front of me. With a mouth full of hot soup I quickly swallowed as he unfolded the blanket and put it around me. "Heh, thanks. It's really nice." I shyly thanked, he scratching the back of his neck and looking to the side.

"My team and I actually knitted them for everyone yesterday." I smiled and set my soup down and took both his hands in mine, grabbing his attention and catching his eyes in mine. "Thank you. You are all too kind." Looking down with a wide adoring smile, a certain feeling bloomed in my chest.

After a night filled of talking and getting to know each other better, we sadly had to part ways.

"I'm sorry but I must go for patrol." I gave a small pout. "Alright. If you must. But promise to visit me sometime else alright? I enjoyed talking to you." I really hoped he'd say yes. "Of course, but I can not promise it to be soon." I gave a smirk. "A simple yes would suffice." He chuckled and let go of my hand before bowing. "Until next time, Y/N" I chuckled as he laughed, running off before meeting with his team and leaving.

I turned back to my mother who had a smug smile on her face, arms crossed. I looked to her confused. "What?" She just giggled. "Ohh, nothing." I just shook my head and settled down to go to sleep. I was quite tired but my brain wouldn't stop thinking about the white ninja. It was stupid and cliché but it was true.

'^~•Three Months Later•~^'

"Where are we going?" I asked as I stumbled on a rock, his arm wrapping around my waist to keep me from falling as he chuckled, I have a feeling it was at my clumsiness. "Someplace fun, I promise." I sighed and crossed my arms, still blind from his hand covering my eyes. "Look, you better not murder me or I will haunt you for the rest of your life." He laughed at that, easily amused by my serious tone.

"Alright. I'm going to let go but keep your eyes closed alright? It's a surprise for a reason." I grinned before giving my word. "Alright. I won't look." I closed my eyes and his hands left my face. I stood as I heard a few noises, my curiosity shooting up. After a few beats of silence he spoke from behind me. "Alright, open your eyes." I opened them to find a beautiful scene.

In front of me was a wall of rocks, frost covering them like a blanket, green moss barely peaking through. Some icicles hung from small ledges, leaking to the snow and leaf covered ground of the forest. A wall of ice fell from the top of the rocks, showing a small waterfall frozen in time. A lake that was completely covered over in thick ice sat below the waterfall, a river running from it as well. Snow covered rocks sat on the other side of the lake, nice for sitting on and relaxing.

I was in total awe at the sight. I felt his hand grab mine. Although it didn't feel gloved this time. I looked to my right and was in complete shock. Bright blue eyes looked into mine, this time, not under a mask. For the first time I saw his face completely and my heart had skipped a beat. He had bleach blonde hair and a pale face, pink over his cheeks and nose because of the biting cold. His features were soft and gentle. I took in his features with a smile.

He just have a chuckle, his white teeth showing. He had a wonderful smile. He held up some ice skates and I came back to reality. "Would you like to ice skate with me?" I nodded with a huge smile. "Of course.." I paused for his name, not knowing it along with his looks. "Zane." He stated as he lead me to a log that looked to be decaying. Oh, he already had skates on.

He kneeled down to put the skates on my feet and tie them. I got to take in the clothing he was wearing. It wasn't his normal gi, this time he wore some jeans, a white jacket, a scarf and a beanie accompanied with his white skates. He got up and helped me up. I stumbled forward and he caught me, laughing. "Hey, as if it isn't obvious enough, I don't ice skate."

"Yeah." He firmly grabbed onto my arms and carefully lead me onto the lake. He was quite good on the skates, did he usually ice skate? While I was like a new born doe, he was an expert ice skater. He lead me around, going backwards might I add, and giving me small tips to help my balance. "Alright, I think I'm good." He raised an eyebrow and I gasped. "I am good! Let go if you don't believe me." He just smirked and let go. My legs literally were swooped out from under me and I fell on my ass.

He just doubled over laughing and I just crossed my arms and pouted. "C'mon, let's practice a bit more." He helped me up and we practiced a bit more... More like a few hours. Kinda lost track of time not gonna lie. By the time I was able to glide along the ice and turn the sun was setting. We both ended up sitting on the flat rock, me swinging my legs back and forth and him showing me his ice powers.

It was just us two in the snowy forest, chilling on a rock and entertaining ourselves. He gave a sigh, a calm smile on his face. I placed my gloved hand on his cold cheek, his eyes finding mine. I couldn't help but look at his eyes. I hadn't noticed his hand that had grabbed my other hand. Our faces grew closer, the puffs of warm air hitting his face with each breath I took, us pausing before we closed the short gap. Even though the air was cold my body warmed. I closed my eyes as he did and once we parted a soft glow caught my eye.

His eyes fell to my chest as mine did his. He noticed something was glowing and he reached under his jacket, me doing the same. To my surprise his necklace looked like mine, but the other half. I held out my necklace in my palm and his in his palm. The glow disappeared as we both connected our halves.

We looked at each other and he gave me this smile that just made my heart bloom with a certain feeling I couldn't exactly define. "We're soulmates." He uttered and my smile grew. "Yes we are."

#ninjago #ninjago au #zane julien #soulmates #young love

[bymoonchild]

Microwave (Mis)adventures (M)

Pairing | Jungkook x Reader Genre | Fluff, slight angst, smut / college!AU, roommates/housemates!AU, enemies to lovers!AU,  Warnings | Explicit language, lots of sarcastic banter, pillow-humping, masturbation, kitchen blowjob (!!!), eating out, fingering, creampie, cum-eating, unprotected sex  Word count | 20k

Out of all things to be afraid of, Jungkook, the seat-stealer of your 8am class and annoying housemate whom you despise with every fiber of your being, chooses to have a phobia of microwaves, but he loves buying microwaveable food – because come on, they’re irresistible – and you somehow find yourself getting dragged into his microwaves (mis)adventures. Cue chaos, sarcasm-laced banter and an unplanned romance.

After attending college for a good three hellish but somewhat fun (only because you live to torture yourself) semesters, there are six things that you think you’ve mastered. 

Sleeping at 6am and waking up just on time for your 9am the next day and ready to kick some ass. 

Relying on coffee – a true college student’s lifeblood – to survive the day. 

Pretending that you have your shit together – people around you think you have everything under control. You’re part of your faculty club, the editor of your school’s publication and also on the freaking dean’s list and have an immaculate GPA to maintain. 

Being a bitch because college has a lot of dumb people and you don’t understand how there are so many people with just one brain cell, that is almost close to none. 

Making lists because checking off each task from your list is as satisfying as sleeping in on a Friday. 

Making routines and sticking to them. 

So If there’s any skill that you’ve mastered, it should be these few, though it’s highly unfortunate that you can’t list any of the aforementioned skills in your resume. Skill number six is also your pet peeve and you just abhor, detest, loathe, fucking hate it when your routine gets all screwed up and just about everyone around you knows how anal you are about following your routines and you won’t hesitate to throw hands if something goes awry.

You’ve never imagined that you would actually be throwing hands until you see some stranger occupying your usual seat at your 8am lecture, for fuck’s sake. You’re not being territorial. There’s no such thing as assigned seats in college, but after the first week or so, people just got in the habit of sitting in the same spot – it’s like an unspoken decision. But your favourite seat is taken. Rudely taken by a mob of dark hair who’s casually scrolling through his phone. 

The nerve!

As if on cue, your vision flares red and your mind sorely screams at you to throttle him. Look, you’re not a convulsive human being and you’re definitely not that big of a bitch (at least not without a reason), but you spent the entirety of last night sorting out your team’s editorial calendar and making sure that everything is under control and you had to drag yourself out of bed at 7 in the morning with hardly any shuteye. You’re high-key regretting every single decision you’ve ever made and definitely not in the friendliest of moods to deal with a seat-stealer. 

So you stalk over to your usual seat, storming louder than usual with your bitchiest expression that you’ve been training since college started. 

“Excuse me,” you clear your throat, eyebrows raised tauntingly at the boy in front of you, who is settled way too comfortably in your seat. 

“Hi…?” The brunet stares at you unblinking, as if rummaging through the compartments of his brain for an inkling of a name or memory of you. “Do I—”

“You’re in my seat,” you cut him off curtly, impatience evident in your tone, barely giving him any time to register what’s going on.

“W-What?”

“This,” you point unabashedly to the chair he has his butt comfortably on, “is my seat.”

Something about his expression changes and his eyebrows start to crease, as though he’s starting to fathom what the heck is going on. 

At that, you frown back harder, all eyebrows furrowed and tightened jaw muscles. 

“But we don’t have assigned seats in college?” The latter challenges with a tilt of his head, arranging his features into a look of deep confusion.

This only prompts you to roll your eyes in disbelief, a flash of annoyance flitting across your sharp features. You’d like to think you’re not a bitch, at least not without a god damn reason and having your seat stolen during an 8am lecture is a good enough reason. 

“Yeah? I’ve been sitting in this seat for the past eight weeks, so your argument is invalid.” 

You riposte, not minding how lecture has long begun and the students around you are gaping apprehensively at the commotion you’re brewing up instead of listening to the professor. You try your best to ignore the burning gazes on your back. 

He remains silent, but his eyes are lit up as though he enjoys riling you up. 

“Um look—”

Biting down on the inside of your cheek, you scrunch your eyes closed, trying your best to resist screaming in lecture as a burning sensation climbs up your throat. 

“Can you just, I don’t know, move? I’m already having a bad morning and I don’t need a seat-stealer to add to my hit list.”  

He gawks at you for a few seconds to see whether you’re pulling his leg about adding him to your hit list and wanting him to move, but raises his hand in mock surrender when he realises that you’re actually serious. 

Giving you his most I-don’t-give-a-fuck-anymore shrug, he mumbles while grabbing his bag, “Okay, fine fine. Geez, it’s just a seat.”

You wait as he moves out of the seat, before sliding into your seat promptly and you find your entire body relaxing out of instinct.

“You’re very welcome, by the way,” the stranger retorts with the same sarcasm that you very much do not appreciate, given your already rotten morning, but it doesn’t match up with the mirth lurking in his voice and grin on his lips. 

“T-Thanks,” you mumble under your breath, unsure of whether he caught it, but you have better things to worry about like catching up with the lecture and trying your best not to have a breakdown because your morning routine just got fucked with. 

Turning back again out of instinct, you see the boy shoot you another weird look before moving to the back of the LT. 

You feel your heart skip. In anger or something. You look away, appalled by the audacity of him – how he can still look at you in the eye when he just did the most despicable thing on earth. 

For the next two hours of lecture, you find yourself incapable of concentrating, mind invaded with thoughts of that seat-stealer. You’re not sure where he has moved to, too caught up in basking in your own internal pit of resentment and memorising every detail of the seat stealer’s cute face so that you can punch him the next time you see him.

Wait…

Cute?

As the overused saying goes, it’s just a bad day, not a bad life – and honestly, you really want to believe in that cliché encouragement. With the same lack of vigour from this morning, you head back to your apartment after class and desperately hope that none of your housemates would be home because you could really use some peaceful alone time. 

You share an apartment with three other friends – Namjoon whom you met through the student union (he’s the Vice President and you work under him as the editor of the editorial committee), Sooyeon aka your best buddy who unconditionally puts up with your angsty ass and Jimin, Sooyeon’s loverboy who’s part of your school’s dance crew.

But instead of coming home to peace and comfort, your eyes land on someone whom you’ve never expected to see again the very moment you push open the door. Let alone in your fucking house. 

The boy, too, seems to be appalled by your appearance. “Hey, you’re—” 

You point at him exasperatedly, mouth agape. “Oh my god, you’re the freaking seat-stealer!”

Your surprise is initially mirrored on the stranger’s face, but he recovers it quickly and even chuckles at your histrionic outburst. “Wow, nice to meet you too?”

For a good thirty seconds, silence and thick tension pervade the air as you smoulder with rage and confusion, until the boy begins to speak up again. 

Scratching the back of his head, he chuckles dryly, “I swear I’m not here to steal your seat whatsoever.”

“Then what the heck are you doing here—shit, are you the new housemate?”

“Yep,” he replies pompously, emphasising on the ‘p’. 

He sees you freeze up, how your eyes twitch a little, before you unabashedly blurt out a “fuck my life”, entirely disregarding your new housemate. 

“Namjoon could have warned me beforehand about having a seat-stealer as our new housemate. Seriously.” 

“Um,” he ignores your blunt cavil and extends out of his hand with a small smile. “I’m Jungkook.” 

You gawk at his hand, affronted that he thinks you’re down for a fresh start because your day has been ruined because of his stupid ass who decided to take your seat. 

Look, it does not seem that deep, but it is, in fact, that deep. 

Everything has gone downhill after your encounter with the seat-stealer. After lecture, you planned on heading to the canteen to grab food before your next class which you had a mini-quiz for, but due to the little fiasco during lecture which involved the unapologetic seat-stealer, you had to stay behind after lecture to clarify the content that you missed out with your professor, and then you missed the bus and couldn’t get to the canteen in time. In the end, you had to do your test hangry, so you definitely have every single right to be angry. 

It is just the utmost unlikely of tragedies to meet this Jungkook dude twice in a day, and now he’s your new housemate? Fuck no. 

“And you are…?” He grins awkwardly, hand still hovering in mid-air. His large, almond eyes regard you with keen interest, but you choose not to relent. 

“Getting the fuck out of here.”

You spit, spinning on your heels to thunder down the hallway and retreat to the comfort of your room. But before you slam the door to get the boy away from your sight, your conscience stops you.

Come on, you’re not that mean to leave him there without giving him the Pep Talk. That would be the least you could do. He should take that as your warm welcome and the last interaction you two would ever have. 

“So um, Jungkook, right? We have a few rules here. First off, don’t leave your trash out in the living room, throw them in the bin or recycling bin if you need to. Secondly, label your food in the refrigerator properly. Thirdly, I’d appreciate it if you don’t talk to me. Ever. Okay, yeah that’s all. Thanks, bye.” 

The words taste bland on your tongue and the distaste is plain as day on your lips as you slam the door behind you, leaving Jungkook standing in the middle of the living room, staring blankly at your door like a lost child.  

Behind him, the door clicks. Jungkook turns around and sees Namjoon at the entrance. Finally, his savour.  

“Hey hyung!” He greets a little too excitedly. 

He first met Namjoon at a music festival, in which the older was in charge of. At that point in time, Jungkook was a freshman and had just joined the dance crew (which was considered a feat for a freshman) and he had the chance to talk to Namjoon, in which he found him a really passionate and capable leader. When he found out that Jungkook was looking for an apartment in his second year, Namjoon being the wonderful gentleman he is, offered him their empty room – they needed someone to occupy the last room and it’s always better to have someone they know than a rando from the streets. 

And that’s exactly what happened. Exactly why Jungkook is standing in the middle of the living room awkwardly after being cursed at by a girl who is not only attractive to him, but also sardonic and sharp-tongued. And he just had to steal her freaking seat during lecture. 

“Sorry kiddo, got caught in traffic. I see you’ve met the wrath of Y/N?”

“Y/N…” Jungkook repeats to himself, but laughter pokes its way across mirthful eyes and tinted cheeks, displaying his bunny teeth in their full glory at the memory of your aggravated face. 

“She’s normally not like this, I swear. I don’t know why she’s so pissy today,” Namjoon shrugs as he removes his shoes. He then walks past Jungkook and ruffles his hair. 

“Maybe because I got on her bad side when I took her seat during lecture this morning?”

“Oh, that explains it. She doesn’t like… changes. She’s very anal about sticking to her routine.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

“She’ll get over it soon, don’t worry.”

“It doesn’t seem like her hatred for me will end any time soon though.”

He pats Jungkook on the back, as if another way of wishing him luck. “Anyways, welcome to our humble abode! We have a few rules—”

“Oh, Y/N already went through them with me.”

“Great! My room is just beside yours, you can just pop by whenever you want, but I’m mostly not home. We have a cleaning and errands roster by the fridge, I’ve added your name to the list. Enjoy your stay, yeah?”

At Namjoon’s last sentence, your face pops up at the forefront of Jungkook’s mind. You’re intriguing, he would say. Very intriguing. Well, looks like it’s going to be one fun hell of a semester living and breathing in the same confined space as you. That, he can’t wait. 

It has been a tough two weeks living with Jeon Jungkook. He has come ramming into your life like a bulldozer, obliterating what little peaceful routine you’ve cultivated. Within the first two days, every fiber of your being has come to a consensus: you hate Jungkook’s guts. 

It’s as if he’s designated to cross paths with you to ruin your life. The very fact that you’re sharing a roof with him makes your blood boil and nerves shake with animosity and the number of times your subconscious has proposed strangling him with your bare hands is almost unhealthy.

But to your ultimate dismay, your other housemates have no qualms about accepting Jungkook – the impudent, cocky, dogmatic jerk who does not hold an ounce of consideration in his bones – and making him part of the gang. 

You, on the contrary, aren’t going to be deceived by his façade.

So you refuse to acknowledge his existence or give him the time of day. While it is almost impossible to fully avoid him because he does live in the same apartment as you, it still doesn’t stop you from not thinking twice about walking away in the opposite direction or pretending to be on your phone to avoid any potential social interaction with him when he’s in the proximity. 

Despite your reluctance, you do learn a few things about Jungkook from just pure observation or from your other housemates who, for a fact, can’t shut up about him. He’s a second-year Computer Science major, with a second major in narcissism and sarcasm (but he’s nothing compared to you), is in the dance team with Jimin, and is also a passive-aggressive and cocky jerk and proud anime weeb. 

He’s also very diligent. Diligent in pissing you off, that is. 

Thus, you’ve taken every liberty to flip him off whenever you could and it’s not as though your housemates are oblivious to your ongoing heated war with Jungkook – they just choose not to care, also because they find your discord with him very amusing. It’s their daily entertainment. But they’re mostly unbothered because Jungkook is causing misery to no one else in the apartment except you. 

You’re his only target. 

Which is weird because you like to think that you have a daunting presence which keeps most people away, accompanied by a temper too intolerable for people. But Jungkook, with his one brain cell, is unlike most people and seems to have a penchant for riling you (and only you) up, leaving all proper etiquette aside and pissing you off at the utmost degree. It’s either he’s plain dumb or lives to torture himself. Possibly both. 

Last Thursday, you came home to a battlefield, a war between a growing pile of dirty clothes strewn all over the living room (you’re pretty sure your housemates have started using one of the shirts as a rug) and takeout containers scattered all over the kitchen counter and living room. And all these were caused by the one and only Jeon Jungkook – who else would be this inhumane? Even Namjoon, the messiest person ever, cleans up after himself, or at least has learnt how to after living in a shared apartment. 

Jungkook, on the other hand, is incorrigible. But what you can’t understand is that he seems delighted to witness the consequences of his filthy tendencies.

Whenever you vociferate his name, he’s always carrying a smug and amused grin despite your evident irritation. 

He’s watching an anime on his phone on the couch when you stomp up to him and call him by his full name with your nastiest scowl. You usually try to be civil with him for the sake of your housemates, but your patience grows thinner than a thread every day, especially when he shoots you a cocky smirk, “Yes, Y/N?” 

Eyes ablaze with smouldering anger and fists jammed sharply into the flesh of your hips, tightly gripping onto the final shreds of your sanity, you say between clenched teeth, “Tell me – why are your things lying all over the living room? Do you or do you not have a fucking room?”

“Of course, I do,” he replies impassively, eyes still glued to his phone, engrossed in watching whatever’s captivating enough for the blockhead.  

Picking up a sweatshirt that hasn’t been watched in perhaps a month for good measure, you snarl, “What the fuck are you? A barbarian?” 

He looks up from his phone for the first time, the right corner of his lips curled into a lewd smirk. 

“Probably not that ugly – have you seen my face, Miss Grumps?” 

“You’re so full of yourself I might just barf at your face. And for the record, you’re not that good looking.”

“Really? I’d beg to differ.”

“The only begging you’ll do is at the doorstep when I finally kick you out of this apartment if you can’t learn to clean up after yourself.” 

Satisfied with your riposte, you hurl his clothes that you’ve dutifully picked up from all corners of the living room at his direction, but he catches them all with just one hand without even batting an eyelash. Damn dancers and their quick reflexes. 

“What? Impressed?”

“Hey look,” you assert, throwing your hands in mid-air and Jungkook’s eyes follow accordingly, staring blankly at them. “Look at all the fucks I give.”

His face drops when he realises that he’s been punked. “You’re fucking Satan’s child.”

You raise your eyebrows, mirth dancing in your orbs. Giving him a contemptuous round of applause, you dispute, “I’ve been called worse. Try harder.”

He doesn’t even need to look at you to know what kind of glower you’re boring on your face. It’s as if he has that distinctive expression of yours mesmerised and embedded in his memory. 

“Is that a challenge?” The smallest of smirks tugs at the corner of his mouth. 

“Only if you don’t come crying to me when you lose.”

Jungkook doesn’t respond and for a moment, you think you’ve got the upper hand. But your eyes gradually narrow to slits as he continues to make no inclination to acknowledge you. You realise that he has increased the volume of whatever shitty anime he’s watching. 

Fucker. 

As you gape at him incredulously, the gears in your mind spinning, there’s an unfamiliar prickle in your chest: competitiveness. You want him to bow down to you. You’re hungry to win. 

So given that skanky attitude of his, you, of course, have to retaliate by annoying the shit out of him as well. For one, you decide to drink his beloved banana milk, slurping generously on his endless supply for the next few days. The dude has two full cartons in the kitchen and you don’t want to know why. 

When he comes confronting you, you show him exactly no fucks given. 

“Where’s my banana milk?”

“Up my ass, bitch.” 

“What the fuck? That was my last one!”

“Oops, couldn’t help that I was thirsty!” 

By the anger that undulates from his pinched features, you don’t know why the fuck, but you have this wholesome sense of satisfaction knowing that he got his comeuppance. You’ve won this time and you want to continue to win. 

Oh, it’s on, Jeon Jungkook. It’s on. 

After the banana milk incident and many more that should not be mentioned, it is a known fact that Jungkook and you are profoundly contentious with each other and should never be allowed in the same room for everyone’s sake. However, God knows what went through your housemates’ minds when they thought it would be a good idea to call for a compulsory movie night. You couldn’t even excuse yourself from it without bearing the brunt of Sooyeon’s annoying pleas. 

“Look who we have here – Y/N!” 

You hear your name being slurred out on purpose a few inches above you. Looking up from your phone, you frown when your eyes land on your favourite nemesis, frowning in an instance. 

“Fancy seeing you here!” Jungkook grins smugly and you desperately want to wipe that smirk off his face. 

“Bitch, I live here.”

“Well, aren’t you just unapproachable today.”

“And yet you are here,” you scowl back. 

“Well, I am something else, aren’t I?” He smirks slyly with a victorious blaze flaring in his eyes. “Especially when you have the temper of a volcano that hasn't erupted in, say, a million years.”

The crease on your forehead grows and you click your tongue loudly when Jungkook settles himself comfortably in front of you on the floor. He even turns around to shoot you a guileful smile. 

“You’re a walking pest. The fucking bane of my existence. The devil incarnated,” you leer and he takes everything in with an amused and sinister grin before turning back to the TV. 

It’s not even halfway into the movie when Jungkook and you come into conflict again. You’re just minding your own business, watching Iron Man for the umpteenth time (you swear they only played it because of Jungkook and his obsession) when the said boy suddenly turns around and sneezes loudly. Directly at your face. He even has the audacity to laugh at your scrunched up expression. 

“Oh, sorry?” he chuckles, tilting his head slightly.  

“Sorry?” You flare up at him, throwing a pillow at his face. “You’re not fucking sorry!” 

At your outburst, a blanket of unease drapes the atmosphere and causes the attitudes of your housemates to go sour. Jungkook looks at the others who are all equally as shocked, except for Namjoon who looks like he’s enjoying what he sees because he is casually shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth.

“Um okay? Then I’m not sorry?” 

Huffing in disbelief, you clench your fists, tampering down the exceptional vexation that is tying knots around your throat, “Wow! And you’re taking it back now?”

Jungkook frowns, now completely exasperated and throws his hands in the air. “What the fuck do you want me to do? Make your mind, Miss Grumps.”

You gawk at him in disbelief, pointing to yourself while a humourless laugh escapes your lips, “Grumps? I’m not grumpy!” 

“Wow and I’m not hot.”

“You’re definitely not!” 

“Not only are you grumpy, you’re blind as well!” 

“Guys, stop it!” You hear one of the guys shout, but you’re too blinded by anger to turn to look at them. 

“Hey Y/N, calm down,” Sooyeon whispers, pulling you away from Jungkook. 

A surge of adrenaline through your limbs urges you to lunge forward and tackle him to the ground. But due to the choking rage that thickens at the back of your throat, you can’t seem to scream out coherently. Instead, an incoherent garble of insults escapes from your mouth.

“Jungkook, stop it – you’re going to drive Y/N mad,” Jimin pipes up from the other end of the couch, but has no real intentions of making Jungkook stop. The latter shrugs casually and turns back to the TV screen, leaving you fuming silently behind him. If looks could kill, Jeon Jungkook would be dead by now. 

By the end of the first month living with him, you’re definite that if there’s anything illegal you could do in your lifetime and get away with it, it would be to assassinate Jeon Jungkook with your bare hands. 

Jungkook has done a lot of stupid things in his twenty-one years of living, like any other dumb kid on the block. He has a full list of shall-not-be-mentioned past experiences because they’re really that absurd. Like climbing his neighbour tree and falling asleep till the next morning (and only realising that he had fucked up when a police car came to their house because yes, his parents called the freaking police to find the missing kid) and playing ghostbusters at an allegedly haunted warehouse with his brother (he caught a glimpse of a woman in white and thought he heard pained cries – and that was his consolation prize). 

So, he is proud to say that he is a man with no fears, or at least he likes to think that he is, because he knows that everyone else thinks that way too. He’s that designated friend who will catch your insects for you, go bungee-jumping without any hesitation and walk through a haunted house without screaming at all. He’s conquered all the possible fears little by little over the last twenty-one years of his life… Well, except for one. 

At 3am in the morning, he’s standing in the middle of the kitchen and staring at his one and only fear. He shudders at the thought of going near it and he doesn’t know if the churning in his stomach is due to his fear or just plain hunger – or both. He just needs to heat up his frozen pizza with the—

Oh. 

The microwave. 

The main source of his nightmares when his stomach decides to throw tantrums in the middle of the night. It’s the one fear that he has never been able to overcome because there’s always someone at home to help him microwave his food. If he’s at the convenience store, he’ll beg the staff to help him with it and he’s used to doing that – he’s proud to say that this mere desperate act has thickened his skin and boosted his courage.  

He halts in his tracks, staring blankly at the contraption, frozen pizza in hand. Well, he could just fuck it and eat it as it is, cold and sad but he could only imagine the countless of toilet runs following it. So no, thank you – he needs to heat up his pizza and he needs it ASAP before he faints from hunger. But as soon as he reaches out to the device, memories of his childhood trauma that he has been avoiding like the plague hit him square in the chest and he grimaces.  

He sees red waves of anger and hears roars of malice. Flinching, he takes a step back, fingers hovering over the open button. 

His stomach grumbles in retaliation. He stares at the refrigerator, contemplating whether he should whip up a simple dish instead of eating yet another microwavable junk (no offence to his beloved pizza), but decides against it when he opens the refrigerator for the nth time that night and gets reminded of how it contains not a single item that could be categorised as real food. There’s literally a carton of beer, a small pathetic stick of butter and a tub of kimchi, courtesy of Jimin’s mum. Well, he could just eat the entire tub of kimchi if he’s really that fearless. 

He’s really this close to eating his pizza cold until– 

“What are you doing?” 

Jungkook jumps out of his stupor, gasping unabashedly and almost drops his precious 10-inch pizza on the floor. Whirling around, he sees the bleary-eyed you propped against the entrance of the kitchen and he trips over his words at your sudden appearance. 

“Oh, h-hey Y/N…” He replies, but it sounds more like a squeak. 

“Fancy meeting you here.” 

His mouth does a weird, nervous thing that is probably supposed to be a smile but looks more like a wince.

“Once again, I live here.”

You gawk at him and the gears in your brain start to question the little remains of his own. You’re this close to biting his head off, but decide against it. Let there be peace tonight. 

Shutting his eyes, he wants nothing more than a bottomless black hole to open up before him and suck him in for good to avoid exposing his vulnerable side to you. Even a stranger could tell that you see him as an abomination – yes, you’ve made it that obvious – and he’s more than sure that the wrath of the sleepy you is tenfold worse than your normal contemptuous self. 

“What are you doing?” You repeat, because are you really interested in knowing what Jungkook’s up to at 3am? Not really. You have better things to tend to, like making your fifth cup of coffee of the day and tending to your paper that’s urgently due in less than three hours. 

“Well, the plan was to eat my pizza but I’ve got to heat it up,” he manages to sputter out, still grabbing onto his frozen cling-wrapped pizza for his dear life like a fool. As though you’re out to steal his food. 

“And…?” 

“And…”

“What?” You hiss in annoyance, squinting your eyes at him and he takes a few steps back from you. 

To be honest, you don’t even know why you’re talking to him. You should be cooped up in your room and smashing away at your keyboard, but you’ve been watching your stupid housemate stand idly in the kitchen for at least a good seven minutes, and he doesn’t look like he’s capable (or that he even has the slightest of intentions) of heating his pizza up. Well, maybe he likes his pizzas frozen and hard… Totally no judgment though. 

“Can you… Do you mind…” He mutters under his breath, staring hard at the ground and avoiding all eye contact with you. 

“What?”

“Um, I-I’m afraid of it.”

“Of what?” 

Slowly, he inches his head upwards and for the first time that night, he locks eyes with you. 

“The microwave,” he mumbles under his breath and you manage to catch it, but you question whether you’ve heard it correctly. 

Your mouth opens and then snaps closed. You repeat this in your state of stupefaction as your brain tries to process everything and a disbelieving “what?” floats through the appalled expanse of your mind.

He grunts loudly and buries his head in his cling-wrapped pizza. “For fuck’s sake. I’m scared of the fucking microwave.”

“W-What? Why?” 

“I’m scared that it’ll explode?” He asserts, looking away from you again. 

“Okay…” You inch closer, eyebrows raised teasingly, sarcasm laced in your voice, “So you’re making me microwave your pizza so that if it explodes… it’ll be on me—”

“W-What? No! Of course not! I just—”

A grumble from his stomach cuts him off curtly and he freezes like a rabbit caught in a snare.

Stifling a laugh, you tongue along the inside of your cheek, mulling over the proposition. Seeing how his eyes are glassy with desperation, you take his food from his grasp, stuffing it inside the microwave without hesitance. 

He backs away and cowers meekly near a cupboard when you close it shut. 

You prop your chin on your hand as you quietly watch the microwave roar to life. Behind you, Jungkook watches how your eyes follow the rotation of the plate in the microwave. Maybe because he’s starving and it’s late and he’s not thinking straight, or maybe it’s because he’s surviving on countless of bottles of Red Bull, but he thinks you look pretty like this, especially when you’re not being sarcastic or lashing it out at him. He appreciates how you don’t ridicule him further for his phobia. 

His little jump at the beep that signals that his pizza is done doesn’t go past your notice. Swiftly, you take out the plate and hand it to him. His hand brushes you gingerly when reaching for it and he beams when his pizza is finally not frozen and sad-looking. 

“Wow,” he chuckles dryly, “I didn’t think you would help me.”

"Bitch, I may be Satan’s child,” you grit, mocking his words, “But I’m not that horrible of a person to let you starve. Or eat frozen pizza for that matter. Give me some credit, will you?"

“You want some?” He mumbles with his mouth full. 

You stop to consider for awhile, but decide to fuck eating healthy. 

“Well, if you insist.”

“I didn’t. But go ahead.” 

At that point, Jungkook’s stomach grumbles for the nth time and you cannot help but grin at how dumb he looks. He laughs in return, flaunting his bunny teeth and then scratches the back of his head in embarrassment.

“Sorry, just a little hungry.” 

"It’s okay. At least you’re not eating it straight from the freezer.”

“Hey, I was really… desperate.”

Both of you don’t realise that you’ve spent at least five minutes standing in front of the microwave, bantering with each other. For god’s sake, Jungkook still hasn’t even taken a second slice, too occupied with teasing you.  

“I’ve got to… go back. My paper’s due in," you check your watch, "Fuck, 2 hours."

With a pizza slice shoved in his mouth, he laughs at your fumbled self and mutters something along the lines of good luck and a thank you. 

“Yeah, whatever,” you reply lamely, brushing him off. 

You return to your room with a smile curled up on your lips. But you swear that that doesn’t at all dull the disdain you have for him. 

After that incident, Jungkook has become a ghost. Not in that way, but he and his mop of raven black hair start to appear literally fucking everywhere in your view, haunting you like the plague, as though his mere presence in the apartment is not annoying enough already. Whether you’re queuing for food, getting your daily dose of caffeine or rushing for class, he’s somehow always nearby much to your dismay. The Computer Science block isn’t even near your faculty, so you have no idea why he’s hanging around the places you frequent. He’s a bug, you swear. 

Whenever you see him, he always has a grin on, which is neither snarky or cocky but you can’t deny that he naturally carries an aura of natural confidence, which amazingly moulds into palpable cockiness whenever you’re around. 

You don’t ever acknowledge him, though sometimes he will throw himself on you, begging for your attention to piss you off further. 

Like how one day after lecture, you’ve bumped into someone on your way out of the LT, causing the person to drop his books. You’re about to apologise because it’s only everybody’s natural instinct, but your face falls when your eyes land on the culprit’s face. Jeon fucking Jungkook. 

“Y/N!” He gasps dramatically, voice laced with faux-enthusiasm, “What a great coincidence!”

Rolling your eyes, you huff as you grab his books and shove them into his chest, “You did that on purpose.”

“Now, why would I do such a thing?” He chuckles boyishly. 

“Why are you even here?” 

“To bless you with my presence. Oh and the last time I checked, we don’t have assigned spaces, or seats for that matter, in college. I can go anywhere I want.”

You open your mouth, clenching and releasing your fists to tamper down the vexation that is threatening to escape your throat. You’re cracking your brains for a witty riposte, but all you say is, “Shut the fuck up.”  

You know you’ve lost the fight. 

Shooting him one last glare, you whirl on your heel, storming away from him and out of the building. Though the chilly autumn air is welcoming, heat sits high on your cheeks. 

You’re angry. Fucking livid. You feel hopelessly tormented by his stupid grin, his stupid almond orbs and stupid, stupid smirk. 

With no better place to obtain advice and vent till your mouth runs dry, you’re grateful when Sooyeon and Jimin ask you out for dinner and you spend the entire night ranting about the very bane of your existence, in hopes that they will show you the light on how to deal with that pest. 

“He’s fucking annoying. Like I don’t understand how someone can be this childish. He’s in college, for goodness’ sake! But he’s… so fucking immature like how the fuck!” You cry out as you stab your fork into another fry. 

“I honestly don’t understand why you hate his guts,” Sooyeon says. “He’s really not that bad…”

“Sooyeon, how could you!” You place your hand against your chest in mock offence. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“She’s right though. Jungkook’s one of the most affable dudes I know and he’s not a fuckboy,” Jimin shrugs, biting into his burger. “He’s not that bad, really.”

You mull over every single interaction you’ve ever had with him. Besides the usual squabbling in the apartment, you don’t have that many non-heated (read: civil) interactions with him, but they all fill you with anger and anxiety. 

Your friends don’t understand shit. They will never understand how it feels to be Number 1 on Jeon Jungkook’s hit list. 

“He literally hates me.”

“No, he doesn’t. Why don’t you give him a chance?”

“We are just polar opposites all right. Incompatible. It’s like he’s born to ruin my life.”

“He told me that you helped him with the microwave the other night?”

“He told you?”

“As a passing comment.”

“Right,” you clear your throat as your brows furrow, “Dude, how bitchy do you think I am?” 

“Out of 10? Maybe a solid 12,” Sooyeon teases. 

“Fuck you.”

“I said what I said.”

“I may be a heartless bitch, but I wasn’t about to let that boy starve. He just… looked so dumb standing in front of the microwave, okay? I just had to help him.”

“Who knew you had a nice bone in you?” Jimin shoots you a look and the humorous quiver of his lip is unmistakable.

“I’m nice, okay…” A little affected by their teasing, a bitter undercurrent cruises beneath your words.

“Aww sweetie, you’re nice, okay?” Sooyeon pats you on the back, “Though you act like a bitch, your heart is pure. If only people saw this side of you more often.”

Call yourself competitive, but this streak between you and Jungkook is impossible to be wiped out. He still tries to rob you of your seat in lecture and make your life a living hell with his stupid pranks and lack of proper social etiquette.

Nobody is actually surprised when the two of you come bursting through the doors during lecture at 8 freaking am for the nth time. Even your professor stops shooting you two a look that screams “what the fuck are you two on again”, but what’s more important is that you manage to reach to your seat, yes, your seat before Jungkook could beat you to it. And he spends the next two minutes scrambling to find one in the crowded LT. You can’t explain how satisfied that makes you feel.

Towards the end of the lecture, you find yourself lifting your eyes and turning towards Jungkook’s seat, only to find him already gazing directly at you. You twist your lips, rolling your eyes disdainfully, and shoot him a cold-eyed stare that has most people cowering. But Jungkook of course, is not like most people, and just stares back at you stubbornly, his gaze piercing. 

You try your best not to break the eye-contact, but it’s hard when there’s a heat simmering under your skin, tinging your cheeks a translucent pink. 

“You win,” he mouths out. 

You stick out your tongue at him, who reciprocates your childish antics and soon, both of you fall into a contest of who can make the ugliest face. Jungkook starts to change up his retaliation strategy, flaring his nostrils and crossing his eyes and you have to stifle your laughter throughout the lecture. 

When lecture finally ends, he’s about to pack his bag when he hears the telltale sound of a camera shutter and he whips his head around absent-mindedly. 

“D-Did you just take a photo of my face?”

“And if I did…?” You shrug, waggling your eyebrows.

“Delete it, Miss Grumps!” 

“Pay me, bitch.”

He lurches for you and hooks an arm around your neck in a headlock, hunching over your torso and nestling your face against his stomach as you squeal out of surprise. The students around you stare at the both of you blankly, confused as fuck. 

Do you guys… like or hate each other? 

“Fuck off, Jeon!” 

“Pay me, bitch!” He mimics in a pitched voice to mock you. 

You refrain the urge to screech, but there’s a wide grin playing on your lips. There’s a strange tightness in your chest – your heart is swelling and you can feel it swell everywhere, the tightness fluttering throughout every vein in your body. 

To your housemates’ relief, the intensity of your discord with Jungkook has decreased tremendously and you no longer have a strong desire to bite his head off, but old habits die hard and he’s still up your ass. 

He’d be the reason why the shoes at the entrance are always a mess, why the toilet seat is always up (at least he cleans up, thank god), why your cereal is always finishing so fast, and also the only reason why all your snacks are now on the highest shelf and you’re not exactly the most vertically inclined. It’s like he’s doing this on purpose. 

“Jeon Jungkook!” 

“Yes, Miss Grumps?” He answers from behind and you whirl around, only to shriek when you see a shirtless Jungkook in front of you, hair still damp from his shower, and rivulets of water snaking down his collarbones and down to his bare torso. He is adorned in only a pair of low hanging sweatpants that show off the ripples of his toned chest and arms and the trail of soft hair down his navel.  

“What are you doing?” You screech at him. 

“I just came out from the shower and you called for me…?” He replies in confusion, but the smirk that plays on his lips doesn’t escape your notice. 

“Why the heck are you not wearing a shirt? Do you not have enough white shirts to wear?”

“Why? Like what you see?” 

“I might just have to gauge my eyeballs out.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, grumps. And for the record, I could never have enough white shirts.”

You huff, rolling your eyes. It’s really hard to not stare at his body, or drink in the view (you’d rather die than admit that he is fucking swole), but you remind yourself of the reason why you called him in the first place. 

Pointing to the highest shelf which is painfully out of your reach after rummaging through the kitchen cabinets like a squirrel in November, you glower, “Can you kindly enlighten me as to why the heck are all my snacks up there?”

With a faux-innocent expression, he chuckles dryly, “And why do you assume I know the answer to that?”

“Because no one in this apartment is as annoying and childish as you and your shrivelling one brain cell.”

“Really? I’d say that you’d make an equally strong contender.”

A taunting smirk inches its way onto the edges of Jungkook’s lips and you want to sock him in the face and wipe that vicious smirk off his lips. 

“Next time if you need help, a please would be nice.” 

“I wouldn’t need help in the first place if you stopped putting my snacks on the highest shelf.”

Shrugging, Jungkook uncoils from his slouch, rising to his full height. You draw in a furtive breath, painfully aware of how his frame looms over you, trying to ignore the weird feeling in your belly, but the sheer tactile sensation that sends a chill down your spine is electrifying. 

As he effortlessly reaches towards the highest shelf, you realise that his face is so close to yours that you could memorize the flecks of amber in his dark orbs, the curve of his mouth, the long eyelashes that frame his sparkly doe eyes, the little mole under his lip and the tresses of smooth hair falling into his eyes. 

As if on cue, his eyes land on yours. A stunned silence encompasses the space between you, sitting heavily in your lungs. He stares at you with a scrutiny that has you breathless, like he is drinking every inch of you in. 

A softness settles into the lines of Jungkook’s face, but it disappears instantly when his lips quirk in the corners.

“Now, what would you do without me?” He teases, his voice is deep in timbre and so quietly convinced that it permeates through every last ounce of irritation and you feel a flutter in your chest. 

You don’t reply. 

Jungkook continues to drink in the sight of you and the closeness of you. Heart thumping away, you suddenly find Jungkook’s hands on your waist, startling you out from your trance. He then leans closer towards you until the tips of your noses are brushing against each other. 

A blush blooms over your cheeks and snakes furiously down your neck when the sudden intimacy of the moment draws upon you. His eyes are soft and there’s a wisp of a smile on his pink lips. 

A witty comeback stays bubbled in your throat at the proximity and you forget how to speak. You swear that he can practically hear the gears in your brain turning frantically because right now, you can only think about how his touch on your waist burns, how ticklish his breath is on your face and how warm it feels to be pressed up against his broad frame. 

“You’re very welcome, Y/N.”

Drawing in a furtive breath, your hands fly up to shove him away. How could you think that Jungkook was decent? He’s practically a living devil. 

“Y-Yeah, whatever.”

“Geez, when will you ever start being nice to me?”

His eyes continue to search through yours, but you refuse to give him the time of the day. You just wonder why he always looks at you like that, with the annoyingly bright glint in his eyes. 

“When you stop being annoying.”

“But I will never stop annoying you.” 

He pinches your nose and you freeze once again, warmth scattering over your skin in the rise of gooseflesh at the sudden contact. 

His words are laced with a hint of ardour, but he does his best to conceal it as a small smile appears on his lips. “Good night, grumps.”

“Nights,” you mumble under your breath as he retreats back into his room. 

Gaping blankly at Jungkook’s bedroom door, you raise a hand to rest on your cheek as warmth continues to flare in the full of your cheeks, tipping your ears pink. 

Back in the quiet confines of your bedroom, you spend a lot less time completing your work as you should, and a lot more daydreaming about firm arms and twinkling eyes. You can’t deny that he has really pretty eyes. And a nice bod, if you might add. 

You think back to the smile that he flashes you. His smile isn’t one of those sarcastic ones that he wears when he’s challenging you, but a genuine one that makes the stars in his eyes come to live, waving to you with their little glowing hands.  

This is not good.  

The warmth at the pit of your stomach never leaves – it has wholly decided that it’s here to stay. As long as Jungkook is involved.  

A loud, piercing siren jolts you out of your sleep and you grouchily turn to glare at your clock. The luminous numbers of 3:19am scream at you and it takes every ounce of your being not to scream back at it. 

“Fire drill, guys!” One of your roommates – you think it’s Jimin but everyone kind of sounds the same with hoarse voices at 3am – shouts over the shrilling pain. “Get your asses out of your beds!” 

Groaning loudly while making a mental count of the minutes of precious sleep you’re about to waste, you pull yourself out of bed and rush out of the dorm without fumbling for your jacket. That’s a very bad decision, you realise, because it’s fucking freezing outside. 

Amidst the sea of blur faces, loud groans and unabashed yawns under the moonlight, a particular back catches your attention, alongside the dishevelled bed hair and long limbs clad in a bright yellow jacket. You squint your eyes at the particular colour of the outfit and you realise that it’s a fucking Pikachu sleeping set.

And it belongs to none other than Jungkook. 

“Jeon,” you grumble beneath your breath. 

He does an absentminded turn and gawks blatantly at you, before breaking into a chortle, doubling over. 

“What the fuck are you wearing?”

Me? Your eyes trail down to your pyjamas and you freeze for an infinitesimal moment, as if paralysed when your old and worn-out Pooh Bear shirt and pink floral pants come into view. Really, what the fuck are you wearing. Considering that this is hell week, you haven’t had time to breathe, let alone have time to do laundry, so you could only settle with your old Pooh Bear shirt. 

Biting back your embarrassment, you hiss, “What the fuck? At least I’m not wearing a Pikachu sleeping set.”

“Hey, don’t you dare insult my precious childhood friend like that.” 

He feigns aggravation, but the expression on his face is a cross between amusement and endearment, and the way it makes your heart soar terrifies you.

“You’re impossible,” you let out a hearty laugh. 

At this, Jungkook feels a little warm inside his chest. He kind of wants to hear this laugh more and often. Believe it or not, even in your sleepy state, he thinks that you look lovely. 

He opens his mouth, ready to continue the banter, but someone calls your name from behind and you turn away from him.  

“Y/N!” 

“Oh hey, Jooheon.”

You have Ethics class with him, but you’re not that close for him to come up to talk to you. Heck, you didn’t even know that he stays in this block. 

“I can’t believe they have a fire drill at this timing. That’s like… illegal.”

Beside you, Jungkook has to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Jooheon notices that the latter’s loitering awkwardly around you and glaring intently at him, but chooses to ignore his piercing stare. 

“Right, so um, you needed something?” You ask, cocking your head slightly. 

“Oh no, just thought I’d say hi. You look cute in your PJs.”  

Even though this is Jungkook’s first time meeting this Jooheon dude, he already decides that he doesn’t like him. Not even one bit. Jungkook’s usually great with psycho-analysing people at first sight and there’s something immediately off about Jooheon. He can feel it in his bones. 

He continues to glare intently at Jooheon and then he realises that the jerk is blatantly staring at your boobs. You’re not wearing a bra and your worn-out Pooh Bear shirt does nothing to hide your nipples that are now perky from the cold. 

“So Y/N, do you want to go out—”

“Y/N!” Jungkook screeches on cue, causing you to jump in shock. 

You jerk your head at your housemate’s sudden outburst and thank god for him, because you don’t really want to listen to the end of Jooheon’s question. Jungkook’s doe-like eyes, which are notably round like a deer caught in the headlights, are now narrowed angrily and the deep crease between his eyebrows mars his honeyed skin, further accentuated beneath the hazy yellow lamplight.

“What—”

You’re about to ask what’s up with him, before he cuts you off by grabbing hold of your wrist, tugging you away from Jooheon’s predatory gaze. 

“For fuck’s sake Y/N, c-can you please?” 

“What?”

Jungkook strips himself out of his oversized hoodie and unabashedly throws it over your head as you scream at his abrupt antic, struggling to rid yourself of his hoodie. 

“Just keep it on!” He seethes in conviction, wrestling the hoodie down on you and you realise that it smells so potently him.  

“Why?”

“You’re not wearing a bra,” he whispers sternly in disbelief, teeth clenched, as his gaze slips southward from your face. His arms fold indignantly over his chest in rage and you blatantly ignore how the lean muscles of his biceps peek out of the sleeves of his thin white shirt. 

“O-Oh… Right. Shit, sorry.”

You flush from the tips of your ears down your neck. Your fingers start to pick at a frayed thread of his hoodie under the weight of his intense starry-eyed gaze. Lowering your eyes, you stare at how your frame is drowning in his hoodie and think about your dear Pooh Bear smiling underneath the soft cotton. It looks big on you, but it makes you feel so warm, causing a tingling warmth of sweet honey gold to reach even to your own fingertips. 

“Keep the hoodie on till we get back,” he mutters, his raspy voice echoing with timber, rich and velvet.

He settles his arm around your shoulders, guiding you back to your other housemates. You ignore how tall he is beside you, how protective he is over you, how gallant you thought he was when he just tugged you away from Jooheon. You ignore how his signature scent wafts through the air. It’s a comforting, homey that rests softly on your nose. 

As you walk to your apartment with Jungkook and the rest with his arm still around you, a subconscious smile pulls at your lips until your cheeks ache and you don’t care if people think you’re on crack for smiling so widely at 3am after a fire drill, because the sound of your erratic heartbeats echoes louder than any siren.  

Vines are entangling the hole in your heart, buds sprouting on the outskirts.

Your heart is blooming. 

And you don’t know how to feel about this. 

It’s a Friday night, which means that you, being the homebody you are, have holed yourself in your room, content with a cup of hot tea and your laptop, while your housemates are out partying and having a life. 

You’re on the way to the kitchen to refill your tea when you pass by Jungkook’s room. His door is left slightly ajar, though the room is dark and your footsteps come to a halt. Jungkook normally leaves his door shut, while the others like to keep it open regardless of whether they’re in or not. Curious, you slowly walk towards the door, peeping in through the side of the door frame.

And the view that lies upon you leaves you in utter shock, rendering you speechless. Your jaw drops, your mind losing all semblance of focus while your train of thought diminishes like an exploded lightbulb. 

The room is pitch dark, except for the moonlight filtering through his gossamer curtains. But you can see Jungkook clearly. On his bed where he lies. Bare thighs caressed by his fluffy blankets, boxers tugged down to his ankles, and thighs spread apart. 

You know he is swole, but damn seeing his naked body in its fullest glory? Fuck. For the longest time, your eyes linger on the very harsh lines and sculpted muscles of his hard toned thighs. You’ve never mentioned this to anyone, too ashamed, but you do know how to appreciate nice thighs. And Jungkook’s? The bomb. Hella thick. But your eyes almost bulge out when you realise the very reason why he has his head tossed back and eyes shut closed. 

He’s jerking himself off. 

Gulping to yourself, your very first instinct is to pretend that you didn’t catch him in the act and simply go back to what you wanted to do in the first place – to refill your tea, but your eyes can’t seem to look away from his hand that’s tightly gripping around his throbbing length, which peeps out every now and then as he pumps himself vigorously. 

Your eyes trail up to his golden skin, his chest that’s glistening with beads of sweat and the hazy expression on his face and then southwards again to the popping veins on his arms, his sculptured abdomen and even lower, to the line of hair and veins trailing towards his aching length. Caressing his slit with his thumb, he spreads pre-cum all over his tip and continues stroking his dick at a fast pace. 

You can’t even count how many times you’ve cursed within the last minute, your mind a clouded, salacious haze. 

What’s dirtier than your subconscious thoughts of wanting to suck Jungkook dry and be fucked by him into the next century is the hoarse moans and sweet whimpers escaping his lips, reverberating through the room. The lucid squelching and sticky sounds from his hand and wet dick are absolutely sinful, but so, so tantalising to your ears and wetness starts to pool between your thighs.

He suddenly sits up and throws his boxers on the ground and for a moment, you think that you’ve been caught red-handed and quickly hide behind the door. But instead, he grabs his pillow and positions it underneath his crotch, slowly rocking his lips against it. Within the slightest of seconds, he starts to grind against it, letting his eyes fall shut for a moment. His teeth even sink into his bottom lip to suppress the moans threatening to escape his lungs with each grind. 

"Oh god, Y/N," he whimpers, once more looking down at his pillow between his legs, precum smeared all over the pillowcase. 

You freeze. 

What the fuck. Did he just moan your name? 

You’re supposed to oppose to this, scream at him for getting off to you. But at the sound of your name, a primal instinct has been instigated deep inside you, lighting up a hungry flame within you. You shouldn’t be eavesdropping to Jungkook getting off, but what the fuck. The way he’s moaning your name so keenly, as if it’s the sweetest fucking thing in the world, spikes goosebumps along your arms. His moans are so hot and filthy that you’re panting softly at the increasing volume of his honey-dipped voice and you can’t help but rub your thighs together. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants, grabbing the pillow closer to him so that he can buck against it better. “Babe, fuck yeah.” 

As he continues to moan louder, heat travels through your body in electric arcs, paralysing you and tensing your muscles. 

He’s suddenly arching up and you watch as his hands go back to wrap around his cock. He pumps himself faster and sloppier than before, determined to reach his climax. After a few seconds, he stutters before letting out an ardent groan, enjoying the waves of pleasure that deafens all of his senses. You watch with wide eyes as he milks out spurts of cum onto his clenched abs and pillow, still moaning your fucking name unabashedly. 

Chest rising and falling in quick succession, a stupid hazy smile then plays on his lips and heat returns to simmer under your skin, tingling your cheeks a bright cherry red. There’s this insinuating urge coursing your veins, causing your pussy to quiver in need. Your panties are all soaked.

Fuck. 

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to sit on his dick. 

Let’s be honest here: there have been some changes in your relationship with Jungkook. He has been occupying more and more of your mind. The memory of him in his bed with that fucked-out smile of his keeps resurfacing in your mind like a bad heartburn. It has you weak in the knees. You can’t stop thinking about his face. And his fucking dick. And him dry-humping his pillow. 

You can’t stop thinking about Jungkook and him stroking his dick, coming while moaning your name for fuck’s sake. 

You don’t stop repeating the scene of his hand around his dick going up and down until you hear it: the scraping of a key inside its lock. You listen to the familiar sounds of Jungkook kicking off his shoes on the floor, and then two seconds later, he’s appearing in the entryway to the living room, his charm already so damn loud in the stillness of the apartment.

At the very sight of his face, the many lewd images of your housemate flash before you. You grimace at the taunting visual, suddenly remembering that you were nearly overcome with your desire to lick every inch of his golden skin and suck his aching dick. 

This is going to be awkward. 

Sensing that you are extra quiet because you’re not barking at him about god’s knows what, he saunters over to the living area where you are mindlessly scrolling through your phone, “Hey, you okay, Miss Grumps?” 

“Yeah, just… tired,” you croak awkwardly. 

“Don’t you have classes till 7pm?”

“You remember my schedule?”

“Y-Yeah? You always come back late on Thursdays.”

“O-Oh right,” you mutter. Your other housemates remember your class schedule and it’s totally normal so that they know when to expect you, but somehow it’s different when it’s with Jungkook. 

“Decided to skip class today. Wasn’t feeling well.”

A look of concern flashes across his face. Dropping his bag on the floor, he walks towards you and presses the back of his hand on your forehead, worry burning at the edges of his regularly-cocky tone. “A-Are you okay?”

Your face burns at the touch of his skin and you tense up instantly. 

Sensing that you’re all flustered, like there’s a fire in your stomach and the sparks are floating up into the darkness of your eyes, he jokes, “You’re not extra grumpy for someone sick. That’s strange.” 

“Shut it, would you?”

“Alright, I take it back.” 

He pauses for awhile, looking at you up and down before adding, “Is that my hoodie?”

Tilting your head slightly, you instantly look down and gawk at your outfit. You’re wearing your favourite black Puma hoodie – what is he going on about? You are wearing your hoodie… except that it’s 2 sizes larger.  

You bring up your sleeve to smell the fabric and then it hits you. A familiar and refined homey scent, mixed together with your honeysuckle perfume. The familiar awakening tingle shoots down your spine once again. 

“Oh my fuck, shit I’m sorry,” you proceed to tug it over your head. 

“It’s cool, you can keep it.”

“What? You don’t want it back?”

“What? I-I mean, it looks good on you.” There’s an uncharacteristically softness that invaded his velvety voice, “So keep it.”

You look up at his face. You can’t place his expression exactly – it’s a combination of amusement and endearment, but the way it makes your heart pitter patter terrifies you. It’s like you’ve just been drenched by a downpour. A downpour of something you’re not sure you understand or ready to understand. 

You try to pretend that you haven’t been nuzzling your nose into the hoodie the entire day because it smells like home. You’re just frightened of how much you’ve grown to adore it. 

Jungkook doesn't know if there has ever been a thicker or a more dense tension hanging in the air around the two of you and it only seems to be getting heavier with each bated breath. He has a difficult time trying to develop a grasp of diction as he stands in the doorframe of your room, gripping the doorknob with a bit more force than usual, staring at the girl before him. 

He finds you hacking away on your laptop, surrounded by mountains of papers and highlighters sprawled all over your desk. He knows better than to disturb you when you’re deep in concentration, but he has accidentally bought too much food and figures that he could share some with you. 

Jungkook realises one thing: no matter what you’re doing, he always finds himself sneaking glances at you. He likes watching how your eyes narrow when you’re concentrating, your little mannerisms – like the little pout on your lips when you’re keyboard smashing and how you tend to crack your knuckles when you’re stressed. He doesn’t even know he has taken in all of your little habits and registered them into his brain, but what he knows is that: his eyes always search for you, no matter where and when. Whenever your eyes light up with a smile to match, he feels as if he might as well be caught on fire. 

He hasn’t called out for you yet, because he knows that you love to drown yourself in loud music when you’re studying so he stalks over to your desk and gently taps you on the shoulder. 

You jump slightly when you feel a hand on your shoulder and sigh loudly when it’s just Jungkook and his stupid wide grin. 

But your eyes soften at this smile. His doe eyes are crescent-like whenever he smiles – they’re always so bright and expressive with a mesmerising, enticing gleam. 

“Have you eaten?” 

Removing your earpiece, you shrug, trying to maintain an unfazed expression, “All I had today was coffee and stress.” 

Jungkook gives you the bitchiest eyeroll and brushes off the sarcasm – he probably has grown jaded to it by now. 

“I bought take-out for us but it’s cold now, so…”

You suppress the smile that threatens to play on your lips and nod. He doesn’t even need to say it explicitly – you know exactly what he’s inferring. 

“We definitely need to stop eating take-out and microwavable food. That shit be nasty.” 

You two walk down the corridor to the kitchen in comfortable silence, arms brushing against one another. He turns to look at you quietly and gets so distracted by how otherworldly you look that it takes him a moment to hand you the food in his hand. 

Nobody is hogging the living room – Sooyeon and Jimin are on a date and Namjoon is probably asleep like a log. The windows in the living room are left open and the chilly air is welcoming, embracing you two in a comfortable silence; in your private alone-time. 

After heating up the food while Jungkook sets the table (which just includes getting banana milk for both of you – he doesn’t mind sharing them with you now), you settle down on the seat opposite him and soon become fall into a comfortable conversation. Of course, it includes your usual bantering.  

“So… when did you start, you know, having a phobia of microwaves?” 

He raises an eyebrow before letting out a slight chuckle, “When I was 6… I put an egg in the microwave.”

“You did what?”

“Yeah, I stupidly did that. The egg exploded and it was loud and so scary and I got scarred after that incident… So yeah, I haven’t touched a microwave ever since.”

“But you live off microwavable food, what the heck? Then what about heating up food at convenience stores?” 

“I’ll ask the staff or an innocent nice-looking customer to help me?” 

“Then how are you going to survive in college? You live in a dorm, microwavable food is basically your life,” you chastise. 

“Well…” 

“Well?”

“You’re here, aren’t you?” 

His voice is infused with honey and velvet. Something about his tone sets a pit of warmth in your stomach. 

You look back at Jungkook and find him already staring back at you. There’s something in his gaze that makes your limbs heavy. It makes you feel trapped and lost in the depths of his eyes, warm and inviting. 

“W-What?”

You notice Jungkook’s rapidly drumming his fingers against the table, while chewing on his lower lip. 

He’s nervous. 

“Um I-I mean, you’re always here for me to annoy! And the guys are here to help me too, so I think I’d survive.”

“Geez, I swear you’re only nice to me because I’m here to save your ass. If the microwave ever explodes while I’m heating up your food, you’re going to pay by taking care of me till I grow old,” you tease as he laughs, giving your arm a little nudge. 

You observe how his whole face lights up, how his eyes crinkle in the corners and his smile is so large that his nose scrunches up adorable. The laughter reverberates through the kitchen, bouncing off the walls like bells. 

You just don’t know how and when you’ve become so comfortable with his presence, but sarcasm has always been your go-to with him, especially since it helps to cover up how your voice is two tones higher whenever he’s around as of lately. Also, because saying “I hate you” is easier than saying “I actually like talking to you and when you’re not bothering me, it feels weird like there’s something missing in my life” and “your laugh is actually really nice, can you laugh more often”.

Jungkook’s feet are still beating rhythms into the leg of the dining table, his hand mindlessly stirring his long-cold noodles. He feels a little ridiculous to be happy about eating with you, especially now that the conversation has dialled down to nothing more than chewing and sipping. Every so often, he will glance up at you as he brings his chopsticks to his lips. 

"So… How come you’ve been abnormally nice to me lately?"

"Huh?"

"You’re just nicer than usual…?” He trails off, “It’s kind of weird."

"Well, I can kick your shin right now if you want?" You bite with every inch of sarcasm you can muster, but anyone could tell that your tone is fond. 

He laughs again, a low, velvety rumble from deep inside his chest and your lips curl up as well. The smile that you give Jungkook over the rim of your bowl is so unexpectedly bright that it makes something bubbly and yellow swell inside of Jungkook and he reflexively smiles in return, bright and honey-sweet. 

You can feel Jungkook staring at you, only inches away – staring at you like that, like you’re the light of the moon, like you hold the stars in the night sky with your very palm. So you pretend to be occupied with slurping your leftover broth, desperately trying to prevent your cheeks from igniting under the warm gaze that deftly lights upon you. Maybe that’s why you end up spilling your food, but you spill it half the time on your own anyway. 

You jump slightly when the liquid dribbles down your chin and onto your shirt. 

“Ah, shit,” you say, quickly wiping away the mess off your chin. 

You’re about to ask for a napkin when you feel fingers cupping your face. With the pad of his thumb, Jungkook brushes the underside of your chin. It’s a playful gesture, but also so affectionate that it’s very unlike of Jungkook and you freeze up as if paralysed. 

Leaning in, he’s so close that you can feel the flutter of Jungkook’s breath on your face, how it hitches and quickens. You stop fidgeting, eyes focused on Jungkook who quietly wipes away the liquid on your face with his thumb. He’s still staring straight at you without a word, and you see that same soft sparkle in his eyes that does nothing for the wildfire claiming the land of your chest. 

Looking into his eyes is like sitting close to a fire that suddenly blazes up. Slowly, you feel a smile growing steady across your face, and even though your heart has been racing this entire time with Jungkook by your side, it manages to beat a little faster.

Jungkook, for the life of him, suddenly realises that he has a huge, embarrassing and debilitating crush on you one fine day and he doesn’t know what to do with that information. It’s opposite of the saying – surprised, but not disappointed. 

If someone were to ask him exactly why he has fallen for you, in which nobody would since he is insanely good at hiding it and he has never told a soul, the answer would be simple. Underneath your tough exterior and sky-high walls, you’re so full of love and your heart is more delicate and softer than anyone else’s.

After a full semester living together, you two have grown more comfortable with one another and your interactions go beyond just bantering with each other and eating microwavable food together. On Fridays where everyone else would be out, sometimes you two would watch a movie together and that has become a routine that you guys follow religiously.

Today isn’t an exception. You two are huddled on the couch, sharing a blanket and relishing in the warmth and comfort of each other’s body heat. 

Upon coming to a realisation of his feelings, the flutter in Jungkook’s chest has become more obvious and more out of control – his heartbeats are a perpetual merciless staccato rhythm whenever you’re around. 

The Avengers is playing on the screen – it’s your turn to pick this week and while he loves Marvel, he pays no attention to the movie because you’re comfortably curled up beside him. 

Delirious with exhaustion, you roll over to face him, your body already sinking into the softness of the sofa. You snuggle up closer to him, pressing your chest against his arm and you wonder when he started to feel like safe harbour. 

Instinctively, his fingers reach out for yours and he starts to play with them, rubbing circles onto your palm with his thumb. He strokes up your wrist, before bringing your hand to his lips and presses a soft kiss to your hand. You tilt your heads towards his and you can see the flecks of amber in his dark eyes, so warm and soft.

He looks like a dream, tan skin and dark hair, lit golden in the light from the TV screen. 

You heart ricochets in your chest, skipping a beat and you feel the need to hold onto something, so you grab onto his sleeve. Eyes tracking over his face, mapping over every curve of his facial features, you feel a smile slowly growing across your face at this intimacy. 

Silence hangs between the two of you and you can almost feel Jungkook’s eyes tracing the line of your collarbone where it disappears inside your sweater, his thick and dark eyelashes fluttering just a fraction with each breath.  

A cherry blossom blush blooms over his face, crossing the bridge of his nose and spreading over his cheekbones. Jungkook reaches up and brushes the underside of your chin with the pad of his calloused thumb. This gesture, so affectionate and ginger, prompts another smile to creep on your lips. 

He lets out a soft chuckle, locking eyes with you as if spellbound by the sparkly glint in your eyes. 

“Are you okay with this?” He asks in a conspiratorial whisper, leaning into your space. His voice, deep in timbre and infused with honey and velvet, washes every last rational thought of yours and you feel a flutter in your chest, running through your veins like blossoms of gold.

And you nod without thinking. 

In the briefest of moments, Jungkook leans in, palms cradling your blushing visage, and brushes his lips over your grin, so lightly that it feels like you’re swimming in a field of fully-blossomed roses. At the softness of his lips against yours, your stomach coils. 

When you feel the supple skin of his lips meld against your teeth, you push back fervently. It's an amalgamation of teeth, mumbled names and unspoken feelings that are coming to a head and finally bursting – absolutely everything you have imagined and more. 

Hooking your fingers in the collar of Jungkook’s shirt, you inch closer and you can hear his heartbeats, which almost sound akin to the rush of the ocean in a seashell.

It’s a little less gentle now. He nips harder at your bottom lip, rolling the flesh in between his teeth gently before trailing his lips down your jaw and to your neck. You sigh loudly in bliss when he sucks faint lilac bruises into your skin, as if determined to ensure that they’ll be clearly visible tomorrow and that you’ll curse at him for marking you with spots that even your best makeup couldn’t cover up. 

His fingers start to skirt beneath your blouse, tracing circles on your waist and slowly snaking their way up. Even when your tongues are entangled in a hot battle, it is sensual and romantic. It doesn’t help that Jungkook keeps making such sweet, lulling noises, like someone is plucking at his heartstrings, creating a melody just for you. All because of you. 

The very thought of that makes your body tingle with warmth from the tip of your fingers to the hollow space of your heart. 

Hands wandering south, you can’t help but slide your fingers under his shirt and drag them over the planes of his abs. His body is warm and it’s making your head spin, tugging furiously at your heartstrings too. You want to get his shirt off and see all of Jungkook. Your heart feels like summer rain, warm, light and pattering. You want to melt into him. 

Parting from you moments later with swollen lips, he doesn’t break eye contact from you and you see stars in his eyes that shine nothing but ardent adoration and fondness for you. 

There is a sharp tug of fear and discord in your chest and you feel your heart drop. 

Then everything clicks. 

This is wrong. So wrong. 

“Jungkook,” you whimper, his name leaving your parted lips in a dulcet whisper. Your heart spikes in your chest and your stomach unravels and knots again. When you let go of his shirt, you feel like you’ve let go of a piece of your heart. You feel like puking. 

“Y-You’re someone special to me, Jungkook.”

He feels his soul pitfall into the depths of his stomach, knowing very well that there’s a ‘but’ coming next. 

“That’s, um, nice,” he says, feeling his face and throat flush. “You’re special to me too.”

Looking deep into his orbs, you realise this: he has heart eyes for you, like you hold his entire world with your mere breath. 

And to be very honest, you’re terrified.  

“But I-I can’t, Jungkook.”

There’s a long pause and the silence presses against you, weighing so heavy that you feel like you’re being suffocated. The voice that crawls out of your lungs barely feels like your own and you’re not sure if you mean what you say. The words sting like nettle leaves on the tip of your tongue. 

“I’m so sorry, but I can’t.”

A wave of panic cuts through the pins and needles pricking down your spine as he remains quiet. You half-expected him to make a sarcastic comment or smirk at you for punking you with the kiss. Instead, he’s just staring at you blankly and his vacant expression is an abyss – it’s unnerving. 

Jungkook maintains his silence like the moon and the silence in between you continues for moments and moments, as if the world has come to a halt. It’s so quiet that you could hear the erratic thumping of your hearts. 

Then he opens his mouth. “Oh, okay.”

“Okay,” he repeats succinctly, sounding more helpless by each second, “If that’s what you want.”

The raw helplessness in his voice fights against the walls in your heart. It’s tearing down the walls, clawing aggressively at them, hopelessly yearning that they’ll crumble down for him. 

“I’ll just… give you some space,” he starts to stand up, shoulders drooped low, unable to meet your worried eyes. 

When he spins on his heels towards the door, instead of going after him, all you do is gape at his departing silhouette for the longest time and then at the shut door, your heart painfully swelling up to the size of the sun. 

You feel your entire world dissolve in slow motion.

Deep down, tucked within a crevice of your heart, you know you want to be as close to him as possible. You want him all to yourself. But you’re unsure. 

You’re not sure how to express the depth of what you feel for him or how you’ve grown to love the little things about him. Like how he makes a big pot of coffee and comes into your room to hand you a warm cup every morning, how he sings softly to himself in his room when he thinks nobody is listening, or how he’s always teasing you and making you laugh. How he always looks for you whenever he needs to heat up his food, even when the others are at home. How he brings you peace when there’s a perpetual whirlpool in your mind. When you’re with him, you realise that the weight of the multiverse on you doesn’t feel so heavy anymore.

You don’t know how to tell him all these in words and actions and you’re a writer for fuck’s sake. But what you do know is that you never want to see that sad expression on his face ever again. 

If there’s one you are especially – and notoriously – horrible at, it would be dealing with your feelings, namely feelings for Jeon Jungkook. Truth is, you hate yourself and you’ve been a complete wreck ever since that day. 

“Jungkook.” 

Ears perking up at the name, you snap out of your trance and tilt your head upwards. “Wha—where?” 

The sound of his name is like blunt nails being hammered into your heart, until the organ is left nothing but a bloody, useless pulp. 

“He’s not here, dumb ass. I just thought that saying his name would be more effective than calling your own name,” Namjoon says, giving your forehead a little flick, “I’ve been calling you for the past minute.”

“Oh sorry—”

“You’re whipped.”

“What?” 

“You like Jungkook,” Namjoon says matter-of-factly. 

You tense up instantly and a deafening silence descends. 

Eyes soft and unassuming, he flashes you a soft smile and his face is doing that thing where he gazes at you like you’re made of glass and he can see through your heart and soul. Namjoon, out of all people, knows that a soft and feeble heart is hidden behind that attitude and sharp tongue of yours. 

An involuntary sigh escapes your lips and you bury your face into your palms as your suspire lowers into an interminable groan. The uncomfortable, electrifying sensation that you associate only with one name crawls up your spine, like a colony of ants marching on your skin. 

Namjoon’s right. 

Jungkook has exploded into your life like a firework: bright, loud, and so dearly ethereal. It’s his bright doe eyes and boyish bunny smile that caught you off-guard during your first encounter with him. And somehow or another, he has waltzed his way into your life ever since, seamlessly, like the last piece to your puzzle.

You do notice how your heart becomes all erratic and out of control when he's around. Throbbing, threatening to demolish your steel, collected demeanour into bits. He makes you feel like the female character of a trashy teenage romance novel and as much as you hate the idea of feeling like a 12-year-old, if it’s with Jungkook, it’s fine. 

It’s as if you two are meant to gravitate towards each other, fill up the void in each other’s lives and soak in each other’s comforting presence. Ignore your initial hatred for him – you’ve actually grown to enjoy the sweet calm of Jungkook’s presence and company, and even that itself is an understatement. He has planted himself into your life so well that it’ll be freaking strange if you decide to push him out of your life. You don’t think you can’t function properly. 

No bathroom singing, no messy sofa, no seat stealer, no microwave adventures. No intimate touches. No bunny smiles or boyish chuckles. No one to make you smile and laugh as though life isn’t tearing you down every second. 

You love hearing Jungkook laugh. His laughter is a metaphor that you’ve been trying to pen down for years. And his smile? It’s a radiance of ardent adoration. Utterly beautiful. 

And then there’s the other thing – something embarrassing that took forever for you to realise and even longer for you to admit it to yourself. 

But you know now and your heart is screaming.  

“Yeah, I do,” you whisper back, feeling like the bits and pieces of your brain are coming together. 

“You want to date him,” Namjoon raises his brows at your confession. 

“I think so?” 

“Hold his hand and cuddle together?”

“Yes.”

“Suck his dick?”

“Ye—God, Namjoon! What’s up with your filthy mouth?”

“Dude, don’t act all demure with me.”

“I’m still not talking to you about wanting to fuck Jungkook.” 

He rolls his eyes, but the grin on his lips says otherwise. 

“But that’s great, Y/N. Took you years to acknowledge your feelings. But just to let you know, the kid has been waiting for you to come back home every night. You should go talk to him.”

No matter what you tell yourself or whatever insecurities you have, there is truth that you’ve always had a place reserved for Jungkook in your heart, nestled between fragile hopes and waning kindness.

The boy makes your heart sing. He’s got a soft, sweet heart, a ripe mango of a heart, yellow and full. In between the bantering sessions and microwave misadventures, you have accidentally and unquestionably very much fallen in love with Jungkook.  

But you don’t know what to do. 

What you know is that you need to talk to him. 

The stillness of the hour makes the walls lurch even more seismic when you open the front door, expecting the apartment to be pitch dark. You assume that nobody would be in the living room at this timing and Jungkook would be holed up in his room watching anime or perhaps at a party, chugging down shots as an attempt to forget you and move on with his life because you’re a heartless bitch and he deserves so much better. 

However, the little lamp at the corner is lit up and when you walk towards the couch, you see Jungkook curled up on it, drowning in his big hoodie and looking softer than ever. His left cheek is squished from where he is lying down on the pillow. 

You heart gnaws at the sight of him and it hurts even more when you realise that he is waiting for you to return. 

He stirs in his sleep upon hearing footsteps and fully jerks awake when he hears your voice. 

“Jungkook,” you breathe out, reaching out to caress his face, fingers brushing against the scar of his cheekbone. He slurs in response, turning his face into the curve of your palm and brings his hand to caress the back of your hand, causing your heart to snap. 

“You’re back,” he announces breathlessly, like he couldn’t believe it. He stares at you with forlorn eyes and you only spare him a half-second glance before turning away, seemingly disgruntled.

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry,” he suddenly says.  

“What? Why are you—”

“Sorry for making you uncomfortable,” he mutters with a softness that invaded his velvety voice.

“Don’t say sorry,” you reach out to grasp his hand, rubbing your thumb onto his palm, “I should be the one apologising.”

“No—”

“Jungkook – listen,” you settle yourself on the couch beside him, “I don’t know what I want. That’s part of the problem.”

You sigh, “I want something from you, but I don’t know what. I don’t know how to name it or quantify it. I don’t like not knowing what to do.”

Jungkook peers up at you through his bangs, deep in thought and even in his sleepy state, he knows exactly that he never wants to let you go. He doesn’t want to lose you. He wants this.  

“It’s okay, Y/N—”

“I’m too cynical, always too sceptical. Too mean for anyone. I’m also a fucking dumb hopeless romantic. I want a lot of things, Jungkook. I want to love… but I don’t know if I know how to? I’m not sure if you know what I mean.”

“I do,” he whispers, “I really do. I’m scared too, like really fucking scared. What if I hurt you? What if I don’t love you right? What if one day we might not be the same anymore?” 

You lower your head in fear, feeling a ripple of anxiety pass across your chest at the thought of the future and Jungkook swears he can hear the gears in your brain turning frantically. 

“But we never know until we try, right? And I… want to try with you. Because it’s with you.”

You curl closer to him, taking in the pleasantly warm and comforting scent of him and he brings you to a warm embrace, pressing little kisses to your forehead. 

Silence weaves itself into the spaces of everything around the two of you. It’s comfortable – you feel like you’re finally at home. 

It could be due to the fatigue or the way he’s looking at you, so intently, but you find yourself blurting out without a thought.  

“Your heart,” you mumble, pressing your hand over his chest and taking in the ghost of Jungkook’s warm breath on your face, “is beating so fast.”

You gaze closely at his visage and drink in the view – his messy bed hair, slightly flushed cheeks, soft pouty lips – and right at this very moment, you can confirm that you’re really stupidly besotted with him. You swear Jungkook has never looked more beautiful than in that moment of him softly gazing at you with a devotion that you can never find in anybody else. 

“Yeah,” he breathes out with a soft smile, “It’s always like this when you’re around.”

“D-Did you just flirt with me?” 

There’s a tickle that dances across his lips, a sparkle of mirth glimmering in his eyes. “Have been for the past few months, but thanks for noticing.”

A blush paints your cheeks fervently, while your heart is doing a fucking waltz even though it knows shit about dancing, the rest of you nothing but moonlight and air. 

“Do you think… you’ll give us a chance?” He whispers earnestly, a tone three notches deeper and your heart gnaws at how gentle and careful he is with you. 

Us. 

“Jungkook, you have all my heart,” you whisper softly, “You always did.”

The most adorable of smiles slowly forms on his face and it feels like everything stands still around you. You feel the warmth of Jungkook’s palms cradling your blushing features, while he strokes your cheeks lightly with his thumb. A grin moulds on your face that resembles his own.

In that split second where you’re relishing in the ghost of his breath against his face, he leans forward and brushes his lips over yours so gingerly that it’s akin to the caress of a feather. The euphoric feeling of Jungkook’s soft lips on yours directly connects to the bones in your legs and turns them to jelly. 

For moments and moments, you swear you could see fireworks and the galaxies splayed out above you.  

He feels you softening like clay and relenting to the otherworldly sensation as he traces the tender flesh of your lower lip, the shape of his mouth quieting the chaos in your head. He can taste your heartbeat at the tip of your tongue.

Jungkook slackens his jaw, deepening the kiss. His tongue grazes along your lower lip before instantly meeting yours, tangling for dominance. He can’t resist himself any longer. He wants more of you, needs a taste of what he’s been yearning for so long. He nips lightly at your lower lip and smirks when an unexpected gasp falls from your mouth. 

He alternates between licking into your mouth hungrily and sucking on your lower lip and tongue. He kisses you slow and deep, all seeking tongue and teeth, making you into him desperately, all passion and open mouths.

Trailing south, his lips plant a tentative kiss on your jawline and then on your neck. He takes his time, hard muscle of his tongue lapping at your sweet skin, lips sucking until a blossoming bruise begins to form. Your breath catches in your throat, your teeth sinking into your lower lip. He feels you lean against him, craning your neck to give him better access to dust lovebites all over your supple skin. 

“Jungkook,” you gasp, relishing in the warmth from his chest. 

He hums in response, a low rumbling sound that vibrates against your chest and it seems to ignite something in both of you. 

You run your hands over Jungkook’s stomach, down his narrow waist and the bottom of his ribcage, your fingers softly brushing against his happy trail. He tenses up immediately and you stifle a giggle, fascinated by the flutter of his muscles as he breathes when you touch a new spot of his body or graze your teeth over his tongue. 

You don’t have enough fingers and toes to count how many times you thought about running your tongue along the tautness of his stomach, or how his jaw might clench when you wrap your lips around his dick. 

You want him.

And he wants you too. You can feel it in the way he kisses. How eager he’d be to fuck you dry even if that meant getting caught red-handed by your roommates with his pants around his knees, balls deep in your guts in the fucking kitchen. 

“You make me so hard all the time it’s not even fucking funny,” he laughs dryly, looking at you in endearment. 

“You know… I saw you masturbating the other night.”

“W-What? When?” 

You bite your lower lip at the lewd mental image. “A few weeks ago, you were…”

“What was I doing?” The smallest of smirks starts to tug at his lips. He’s challenging you. 

“You were… stroking yourself…”

“And?”

“… Humping your pillow and calling out for me.”

“Fuck Y/N,” he groans, nuzzling his face into your neck, “You’ve got such a dirty mouth.”

“You asked me where you were doing!”

“Did you like what you saw though?”

“I—”

Leaning towards your ears, he lowers his tone and whispers, “You always make me fucking hard, I think I need to punish you for that. Bet you’ll like that, won’t you?”

“Jungkook, what—” 

“You got to make it up to me, Miss Grumps. Have a taste of your own medicine.”

“You calling me Miss Grumps totally ruined the mood.”

“Sorry… babe?” He chuckles for a lack of a better response. 

You smile again, feeling a ripple of molten and saccharine sweet longing ease its way up your belly at the endearment. 

Your eyes track over his visage, his dark eyes glassy with unadulterated adoration and love as he attacks you with kisses all over your face. You can’t hold back the little whimpers that escape your throat and Jungkook ardently swallows every single one, grateful for every single noise you make. 

His breath is coming out in warm swathes of air against your collarbones and you glance down to see his eyes, the slow blinks of his heavy lids, each breath laboured and potent with lust.

Pressing his lips all over your throat, wet and messy and wonderful, you whimper when he sucks hardly just beneath your jaw that has got you quivering and that only prompts him to suck on it harder. 

You don’t have enough fingers and toes to count how many times you’ve thought of this – him planting hickeys all over your neck, or you running your tongue along the tautness of his stomach, or how his jaw might clench when you took him into your mouth.

“Jungkook,” you break out of your trance and whisper, “I want to suck you off.”

Desire ricochets through his abdomen at your dirty words. He can’t believe his ears. 

“Where?” 

“K-Kitchen.”

He shoots you a look at your response, but doesn’t probe further when he sees a sly smile on your face, eyes clouded with a salacious lust. 

He’s even more turned on by this, smashing his lips on yours again, kissing you so fiercely and passionately. Carrying you over to the kitchen with your legs tightened around his waist, he delights in the friction and warmth of your body against his as your lips are still busily entangled in a hot battle. 

You push him atop the counter while your hands worm their way to the waistband of his sweat, tugging it down his sinewy thighs and you try not to drool at his rippling thigh muscles. 

“You’re so fucking dirty,” he quirks up an eyebrow, his voice noticeably deeper and gruffer, “The guys are going to be so pissed.” 

With a sharp intake of air, he tips his head back with his eyes shut. When he reopens them, he sees you kneeled before him on the kitchen floor, eyes dilated with a virtuous gaiety. You palm his length over his underwear without warning, causing him to groan out loud, bucking forward when you inch closer to give his clothed budge a few kitten licks. 

The desperation of his situation only seems to increase in severity when you tug down the elastic band of his boxers and slide them off his legs, finally freeing his erection which springs out from its confines, slapping hard against his abdomen. 

Jungkook’s much bigger than you expected, his tip angry and red, leaking with pearly beads that dribble down his length and the bulging veins that line it. He is also hard. Very painfully hard and throbbing red, because you are so angelic and sinful all at the same time, and it’s making him really fucking desperate. 

“Fucking hell. B-Babe, don’t tease, please,” his entire body shivers when your hot breath passes through to the sensitive skin of his cock. He’s fucking aching with need. 

Jungkook’s jaw drops, continuing his string of curses, but the words are instantly replaced with a breathy moan as you press his tongue to his navel, licking down his happy trail teasingly. Locking eyes with him, your fingers gingerly trace the soft lines of his abdomen, lingering over the sensitive flesh above his member and nipping at it, teasing him in ways you could have only imagined before. 

Leaning in, you take his dick in your hands – it’s thick, hot and throbbing with need. Eyes still locked with his, you plant a soft kiss at the head in an almost kitten-like fashion and your tongue tingles at the taste of his pre-cum that already accumulated smelting on the saturated expanse. 

You’ve wanted to do this for the longest time. You don’t know how many times you’ve thought of running your tongue along the underside his length from the base to head, taking each ridge and curve into account, your head bopping up and down, pleasuring him to no end and revelling his deep, sinful moans. 

You look up through your eyelashes, vision hazy with lust. Jungkook has his head tipped back again in pleasure, his irises are gone, eyeballs rolled back in his head as he clenches down at his teeth to hold back his moan. 

The very sight sends an electrifying heat down to your arousal. You want to suck him off so badly and make him feel like the man on the moon. So you start peppering light kisses onto the head, before capturing his length into the warm moistness of your mouth, prompting a raspy fuck from him, and hollow your cheeks enough to press against the sides.

Parting away from his tip, your tongue licks the underside of his cock before finding its way to his balls, sucking hard on them and rolling them around in your mouth one by one. Jungkook bucks his lips forward at this as dirty curses erupt from his throat. 

“Fuck babe, that feels fucking good,” he runs his fingers through your dishevelled locks, trying his best to stifle his moans. 

Upon his reaction, you smile to yourself, continuing to alternate your tongue between his balls and his hard shaft. When you take his cock into your mouth again, you thrum blithely at the fullness of him, opening your mouth wider to take him deeper until you bottom out, nose brushing against the tussock of cleanly trimmed pubic hair at his navel. 

“Fuck, you’re so good. I’m so fucking lucky,” he says, tugging a strand of your hair behind your ear. 

Saliva pools in your mouth as you start swirling your tongue around the head instead, humming in response at how he tastes and feels on your tongue. The vibrations make him shiver, one hand at the back of your head and the other on the kitchen counter. You pop off audibly after a while, hand still working at the base of Jungkook’s cock, fondling his balls.

“Want to fuck your mouth so bad,” he growls and your entire body quivers. 

Grabbing his cock, Jungkook repeatedly taps his meat against your cheek, waiting for your permission before he steers it into your mouth again. With a low, guttural groan, he wraps your hair tight in his fist and starts thrusting his dick into your mouth harder than ever, filling you to the brim. 

Your jaw slackens while taking in all of him, the tip of his cock hitting the deep back of your throat. You take in as much of him as you can, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as he continues to hit the back of your throat. It’s uncomfortable, but the weight of him on your tongue makes your bundle of nerves burn, your underwear wetter than ever. 

“Jesus, you’re fucking good at sucking me off.”

It’s when you hum in pleasure with Jungkook’s cock still halfway down your throat that he lets out something of a wail. His mind is in turmoil and he can’t think straight for the better of him. He can only think about how fucking hot you look on your knees, in between his thighs, giving him the best blow of his life. Eyes hazy and obsidian, he believes that this is the most erotic sight he has ever seen and he’s fucking turned on. 

“Fuck, you’re so pretty like this. I’m going to come soon, but I’m not coming unless it’s in your tight sweet pussy.”

“Shit,” you mutter at his filthy talk, pulling back up from his cock to pant for air, but the strings of dibble trailing from his cock to your swollen lips arouse you even more. 

“Come on, let’s go to my room before anyone wakes up and gets the shock of their lives.”

He pulls you to your feet, palms smoothing your ass cheeks and smacking each side hard, before he leans in to smash his lips on yours. Fuck, he can taste himself on your lips and in your mouth and this only increases his desire to fuck you senseless. Impatiently, he sweeps you off your feet effortlessly, carrying you bridal style to his room. You try not to stifle at how frantic he is, his red aching cock still hanging out, while his sweats are still pooled around his ankles.  

Kicking his bedroom door open, he lies you gingerly on the bed before walking over to lock his door. When he returns with a hazy smile, he lowers his body on top of yours and your hands naturally clutch around his neck. Your heart thumps when you can feel the frenzy of his pulse underneath your fingers. 

His fingers secure around your chin, tilting your face up to meet his lips in a kiss, filling you with liquid heat. This one is slow but heated and still leaves you completely breathless. Before you can lick his mouth, Jungkook pulls away from your mouth to slide your shirt up.

You find his fingers carding through your hair as if to soothe your nerves, before they trail down to your neck and over the dark red bruises on your neck from earlier on to rest on your shirt, tapping a rhythm against your chest. You give him a nod and his fingers begin unbuttoning your shirt, delicately ghosting his touch over your breasts and chest so painfully slow that you cry for him to hurry the fuck up. 

A satisfied smirk tugs at his lips at each sound of your unadulterated desire and when your shirt is fully unbuttoned, he pulls you up in one smooth movement, tugging it off and tossing it onto the floor. 

Sliding a thigh between your legs, Jungkook allows you to rut against him while his hands begin their ministrations, wandering all over your body, inspecting every inch of it, grabbing and squeezing every curve of yours. He bends forward to trail open-mouthed kisses over your bare torso and the knot of lust tightens within your abdomen. 

His breath is coming out in warm swathes of air against your skin and you glance down to see his eyes, the slow blinks of his heavy lids that are eyeing your entire body, each breath laboured and concentrated with lust. 

His hands rest on your hips as they squeeze and caress your skin each time you whimper his name like a mantra, while he leans forward to your neck again, the ghost of his breath leaving a trail of fire down your throat until they reach your tits. 

Tugging your bra down to expose the swell of your breasts, he leans back to watch your face as his thumb darts right over your hard nipple, working a slow, lithe circle around your sensitive nipple before he tweaks the bud in between the pads of his fingers. You feel him lick at your nipple tentatively before he engulfs it in his mouth, sucking it hard while his other hand fondles with your other mound. 

It’s a tidal wave, causing wetness to pool between your thighs and you press them together, trying to create some friction or subside the uncomfortable stickiness invading your underwear. 

Lowering himself down between your thighs, you wait with bated breath before he starts licking and bestowing kisses on your navel and then down to your inner thighs, leaving you gasping at the sensation of his hot breath dancing across your sensitive skin.  

You emit a soft whimper which then melts into a desperate moan when he buries his nose against the cotton of your panties, his mouth teasing your bud through the soaked fabric. Very timidly, you raise your hips, seeking friction, and Jungkook receives you with the same hunger. 

“Going to eat you out so well you’re going to forget your fucking name and only remember mine.” 

His eyes, hazy with lust, lock with yours and he smirks viciously. The concupiscent blackness you found within them swallows you whole.

Your nerves jitter anxiously, raising tiny bumps of excitement across your skin as his fingers graze over your clit generously. Your body arches involuntarily when he licks a brazen stripe up your folds with his flattened tongue, taking in all of your juices. The sudden invasion of his tongue has you purring in delight. 

He edges your clit eagerly, flicking it with his tongue, teasing in circles before he sucks on it roughly and then lapping at it hungrily like a starved man. Gasping loudly, you bring one hand to cover your mouth, your breath stuttering as your other hand goes down to tug hard at his raven locks, your hips bucking forward and into his mouth. 

You mewl out loud when he slips his tongue inside your tight walls, fucking you with the flat of his tongue. Just when you think it couldn’t feel any better, he eases one finger into you slowly, smoothly sliding over your soaking wet folds until it’s knuckle-deep inside you. When you throw your head back in pleasure, he adds another finger, pulling his mouth away to focus on scissoring you and hitting all the right spots. 

“You like teasing me, don’t you? How about now?”

Without warning, Jungkook begins curling his fingers inside you, spreading your lower lips wide to allow your juices to flow past his knuckles and drip onto his bedsheets. His fingers continue his assault on your pussy for moments and moments, pounding mercilessly into you, the heel of his palm taking its place on your clit. 

The squelching sounds of his finger delving in and out of you are melodic to his ears, reverberating through the room. He then brings his lips back onto your clit and the cadence of his tongue on your clit is tantalising, tongue either lapping lazily at your clit or sucking on it ardently. 

Adrenaline runs through his entire body, lighting up his nerves like firecrackers. He can’t believe this is happening. “I could eat you all fucking day. You’re so hot, Y/N.”

With the combination of his tongue and fingers furiously fostering your orgasm, you know you’re not going to last for very long. 

“Jungkook, please. I’m going to cum soon. Please, please,” you whimper helplessly on his sheets. 

Upon seeing your rolled up eyes, parted mouth and arched back, accompanied by the loud moans and cries leaving your mouth, the music of your voice pleading for him, he pulls away from your clit, smiling proudly to himself. 

“You’re not coming now. You can only come on my dick.”

You moan disgruntledly at the loss of his fingers and tongue, feeling empty all of a sudden. Shooting him a glare of betrayal, you’re about to scream at him for being a tease, but your eyes widen when you see his flushed skin, plump lips, shiny forehead, your own glistening nectar leaking from his lips and dribbling down to his chin and neck. 

And suddenly, you’re tongue-tied, squirming again. The throb in your core is torturous, your entire body is caught in a crossfire as you lie pliantly under Jungkook as his arms cage around you, helplessly soaking his bedsheets. 

You want him to wreck you. 

He pushes your trembling thighs apart as he settles between them. You whimper when you finally feel the head of his cock prodding at your soaked lips. But he doesn’t enter immediately. Instead, he slaps his cock against your pussy, and the filthy action only turns you on even more, driving your nerves into a frenzy. 

It seems like eons when he finally sheathes himself inch by inch inside you, till his cock is up to the hilt, and god, it feels so fucking incredible. The electricity that shoots through your blood is like a drug. 

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you hiss, threading your fingers into his hair as he groans at the feeling of you surrounding him. He waits for your entire body melts into him before moving. You can only keen at the surge of fullness, clenching around his thick length. Biting your lip to keep yourself from waking up your housemates, you reach up for Jungkook to pull him into another kiss. 

With his lips still locked with yours, he fucks you so thoroughly, the agonising roll of his hips hits that sweet spot with deadly accuracy, your body writhing in pleasure.

The warmth of your pussy makes his eyes roll to the back of his head, especially when your walls mould around every ridge and vein of his cock. He loves watching how his cock disappears into you, your tight pussy swallowing it up to the hilt with no difficulty, taking him so fucking well. So he draws his hips back, and you can feel every inch of his heat going with the motion before he swiftly plunges his cock back into you. Unrelentingly hard. Over and over again. 

Your back arches at the sensation and wanton desire for more, moaning his name out loud like that’s the only thing you know. 

You can feel the need and lust in his thrusts, from the way his fingers dig into your hips and hold you in place, leaving bruises on your skin as he rams himself into you, without even bothering to muffle the sound of his toned thighs hitting the back of yours every time your hips meet. You fucking love this, fucking love how strong his thighs are, how full his cock is making you feel. 

Each dirty, fast slap of skin and the momentum of his cock buried deep inside of you only makes the two of you needier. Jungkook doesn’t tease this time, probably not able to hold back anymore, and the bucking of his hips builds up to a fast, animalistic frenzy, plunging his cock into your body. He hammers roughly against your g-spot enough to rock your body forward and back with every thrust, warming your body like sunlight.

He reaches to fondle with your breasts, tugging potently at your nipple before sucking hard on it. Looking up, you see him smiling brightly, flashing his bunny smile and it drives you insane how he can fucking you so good, but still look so innocent at the same time. 

“Love you so fucking much,” an enticing lilt caresses the edges of his already hoarse voice, the smile on his lips growing wider. It’s the same fond grin he gives you when he sees you in the kitchen, in the hallways in school and when you’re back home after a long day at school and goes straight to join him at the couch after you two were past the I-hate-you-fuck-off stage. 

“Love you, love you, fucking love you.” 

A saccharine smile dances in the corners of his lips as he kisses you roughly, the shaken quavers of your moans thaw in the heat of his kisses, as his hands grope your ass tightly, still fucking you so well. 

Each slickened thrust is accompanied with a deep roll of his hips so that he is right there inside of you, causing you to feel choked at how close you are. Hazy with ecstasy, you roll your head against the pillow, nails digging deeper onto his back. 

With eyes rolled back, your entire body trembles with pleasure as your cunt suctions around his cock, alongside the burning feeling of fire pooling low on your abdomen. You’re clamping down on him hard enough that he’s delirious, his steady pace becoming more frenzied. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck Jungkook. I’m coming!” 

He leans forward to press a kiss on your eyelids, whispering sweet praises into your ear as he brings one hand to rub the small hard bub unrelentingly to relieve your tense bundle of nerves.

Determined for you to reach your high, Jungkook grabs at your knees, hiking your leg over his shoulder and you let out a cry at the new position. 

“You love this? You love it when I fuck you harder?”

You scream out a yes when he taunts you even more, feeling every single ridge of his dick against your walls as he fucks you at a better angle of access. It feels so, so fucking good. 

He speeds his hips up so much so that the sound of skin slapping fills the room, almost overpowering your moans. Almost. You don’t even fucking care if your housemates can hear your filthy moans. 

“Fuck,” you groan shamelessly when the coil inside you grows tighter and tighter, hotter and hotter. “J-Jungkook, I’m fucking cl-close. Please, please!”

“That’s right,” the smallest of smirks tugs at the corner of his mouth upon hearing you beg and he continues to fuck you harder than before. Fucking you into oblivion. “Come for me, love.”

Beneath his touch, you feel light and heavy all at once, while a white heat pools in your belly. Your body locks up entirely and then dissolves into an erratic series of spasms. Your legs writhe uncontrollably alongside a torrent of ecstasy that splurges from your center, head spinning to static noises and hot moans as Jungkook holds onto your body firmly to help you through your climax. 

After your high, Jungkook resumes to move in and out you, while a combination of a hoarse moan and your name is strangled out of his throat from the depths of his lungs. 

“Shit, fuck, I’m coming,” his voice trail off and his thighs tense as he slams into you, holding your hips firmly in place. Your small fingers thread through Jungkook’s hair, holding him close and urging him on.

“Come inside me, please. I want you. I want your hot cum.”

He lets out a deep moan, his face burying into the crook of your neck and shoulder as he rides out his orgasm, moaning and whimpering into your ear as he releases deep into you, spurts of warm cum filling you so full and spritzing your walls white. He ruts into you until your pussy milks him for all he’s worth. 

He can feel his pearly cum oozing out of your clenching entrance, slipping down your trembling thighs. He doesn’t pull out just yet, dick still nestled inside of your tight walls, wanting you to feel full with his cum. When he finally pulls out, he collapses on top of you, planting kisses all over your face before nuzzling into the warmth of your neck. 

Still trembling with the power of your orgasms, the both of you stay like that for a few minutes, just catching your breaths and enjoying the swims of your heads in a comfortable silence. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he breaks the silence with a chuckle before sliding down between your legs again. 

“W-Wha—”

Prying your legs apart, his eyes land on your pussy that’s dripping with his cum and he lets out a guttural groan at the dirty view. He gives your clit a chaste kiss and your hips buck up into his face as he gathers his juices onto his tongue, tasting the otherworldly mix of your juices. 

“I’m cleaning you up, babe.”

Flushing red like summer cherries with a hazy smile dancing on your lips, you whimper. “H-Ho—”

He cuts you off by diving right back in to lick a stripe up your slit and you jolt, both legs trembling and breath hitching in your throat. Soon, he has his face buried deep in your cunt again, lapping at your cunt and even throws both of your thighs over his shoulders to keep you from slamming your legs shut. 

It’s so fucking filthy. And so unbelievably hot. 

When Jungkook pulls back with his spellbinding smile, licking the leftover juices on his lips, you feel as though you might come for the second time. He surges forward to meet your lips and your head spins from tasting the sweetness of your juices together. 

He places another tender kiss to your forehead before settling onto his back and you naturally roll yourself over, nuzzling snuggly into his warm embrace. 

It’s a cuddle fest in the middle of the bed arms thrown over each other, legs entangled despite the remaining sweat and love juices. Jungkook is grinning hazily at you, breathless, and he feels his heart do a fucking waltz. He sure can live with this. 

When morning arrives, the sun is shining through a different window than you’re used to and you’re not your bed. The air is orange and the sunlight that bounces off the bedroom walls is nothing but welcoming. Rubbing the heels of your palms into your eyes, you see fragments of dust in the air, whirling around like snowflakes. 

Beside you on the bed is Jungkook, who’s sleeping soundly, with dishevelled locks and swollen lips and the rise and fall of his chest comforts you more than you’d ever know.

At this, the memories of last night come rushing back to you almost immediately and your heart gnaws at how real this is. You look around Jungkook’s room. You see the few pictures on his wall and you spot one with you in it, sending your heart ricocheting even more furiously in your ribcage. There’s a fire within you that’s made of soft, satin embers whenever you think about him.

You can still remember the moment you first laid eyes on Jungkook – how you were clouded with anger about the boy who stole your seat during lecture. Who would have ever imagined that you’d be here in his bed, hopelessly in love with him. 

Jungkook starts stirring awake in his sleep when he feels a sliver of warm sunrays permeate the thin skin of his eyelids. When he fully opens his eyes, he’s met with the sight of a beaming you (he thinks that you outshine the sun, but he decides to keep those thoughts to himself) staring straight at his face. 

Your smile doesn't falter or diminish when you’re caught, but only increases, as a soft good morning leaves your lips, while the tip of your tongue tastes of honey sweet and last night’s dalliance. He mumbles a good morning back, planting a kiss on your lips and the two of you look at each other. 

This is something. To be seen by another human being. To be vulnerable and transparent with no filters. To be transparent. This something is love. Love that’s easy. Like a liquid or gas. Love that finds its way in. Love in its simplest form. Love that the two of you understand.  

“Breakfast?” You card your fingers through his locks, before pressing a kiss to his forehead. 

“Only if you help me with the microwave.”

From the warmth of your caramel eyes, to the tender slope of your nose and to the apple of your cheeks, his eyes soften at the sight. 

“Actually… Maybe I should do it instead,” he adds, his chocolate brown eyes flicker from you to your fingers, lacing your fingers with his. 

“Huh?”

“Well, I can’t let the microwave explode on you, can I? I’d never bring any harm to you.”

“Dude… That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said,” you grin, humour colouring the corners of your mouth. 

“I poured my heart out to you and you think this is the sweetest? Geez. And you just dude-d me after I fucked you so good last night?”

“Shush, love is a willingness to sacrifice.”

A summer-night silence which lay for a thousand miles envelopes the two of you, both of you just enjoying the swim of your heads. 

Jungkook breaks the silence, voice softer than ever, “I do, you know?”

“Huh?” 

He reaches for your hand and brings it up to his lips, pressing tender kisses on your knuckles, with the little stars glistening in the velvet night sky of his eyes, “I do love you.”

But before you could respond, a beep comes from your phone and you instinctively reach out for it. 

[From: Namjoon]

[12:37] for fuck’s sake… the walls are thin in this humble abode fyi

[12:37] our poor ears…

[12:37] you guys went from figuratively fucking each other up to literally fucking each other

[12:37] as least you guys… are happy and not trying to kill each other

[12:37] happy that you all have found love uwu i can cry right now 

“Fucking loser,” you mutter as you hand Jungkook your phone to view the incoming messages. “Namjoon’s onto us. This is so embarrassing.”

“I think we were a little too loud last night.”

“And whose fault is that?” You tease with a waggle of your eyebrows. 

“I’d take credit where it’s due,” he laughs and you don’t miss the glint of mischief that hides underneath the flutter of his eyelashes as he engulfs you in another tight embrace. 

You think you like this, maybe a little too much: your head on his broad chest, his chin on your head as you lie snug in his arms, fingers interlaced, heartbeats as one. You adore how perfectly your body fits in Jungkook’s calming embrace, how he holds you like you are his world, not too tight and not too loose. Like you hold the stars in his eyes in place. 

“You make me weak, Jungkook,” you murmur softly like the way a snowflake would fall, lips hovering over hips. 

He hums in response and presses a kiss to your forehead. Brushing your hand gingerly over the latter’s jaw, a smile flutters on the edges of your lips with utter adoration, with a love so blazingly radiant that it rivals the intensity of the sun. 

Pressing your lips onto Jungkook’s, you whisper, deciding to dismantle the high walls of your heart for good, “But I love you. So much that I don’t mind being weak with you.”

Note | Finally.... it’s up. A big phat uwu, everyone!! 45 pages on word doc. It has been a long, insane ride writing this – I think I started in August after posting Set On You. For my lovelies who’ve been waiting for this fic since forever, thank you for waiting and expressing your excitement for it! I love you guys so much :( I’m such a slow writer sksdjsdsdsd and I don’t know why my fics are always so long – it’s like I have so many things I want to write and I can’t leave out any scene?? Formatting it on this site takes up like an hour,,, but wbk. 

Thank you for reading this and if you enjoyed it, hit that like or reblog button or/and hmu in my inbox/dms! ♡ Merry Christmas and have a great 2019! There will be more fics to come (probably shorter ones... pl0x)

Also, I added my thigh kink for you Ash uwu @jiminspjm 

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[sweetfierceimagines]

If tear drops could be bottled

Request by @shadow-hunter-lover , thank you so much for it ! 

/ Soft Billy x reader in which the reader struggles with depression and he helps her through it. First time I write about this kind of topic so I hope you’ll like it ! English is not my mother tongue so sorry for the possible mistakes, I don’t mind at all if some of you want to tell me were I screwed up ahah, I'll correct it ! 

Warnings / None, I was requested “so much fluff that people get nosebleeds, so you’ll tell me about that ;) Extra long, hope you don’t mind ! I was asked for fluff and one shot, but I'd be down to write a second part ! Tell me if you’re interested !! 

* 

Y/N’s POV : 

It was one of these days. 

Everything seemed fine, Y/N had nothing to really complain about in her life. She had friends, she had loving parents, she had a house, food, education, future, yet nothing seemed to function harmoniously. She would pretend everything’s ok, she would smile and laugh with her people, she would eat a bit not to raise attention, she would wait until she’s alone to break down, and make sure no one can hear her cry. 

On these days, she was sad about everything, but mostly, she was mad at herself for not being able to be happy with what she had. So her rule number one was to always keep her head up and let no one worry about her. It was working well right? 

Or maybe not. 

Most people saw nothing. Yes, her friends from Hawkins high told her she should come more often to their parties, some were wondering silently why she was rushing home after class, but no one came at her place to make sure she was ok. Her parents though she was just being a teenager/early adult struggling with whatever a normal person struggles with at this age, and thought she would come and talk to them if she had something going on, smart. 

This rule made her feel safe in her pain, but it was putting her in a never ending circle. She felt like no one cared about her well being, that no one wanted her to be really, truly happy. That if she left this place tomorrow, they would barely notice. 

So every night she would come back home, rush to her room, lock it and despair, lying on her bed. Sometime she would cry, other times she would just lay here feeling numb, like a darkness was swallowing her a bit more each time. And she felt like she wasn’t strong enough to fight it. 

BILLY’s POV : 

Smoking, driving fast, lifting weight, flirting, repeat. Gosh that loop sure felt good, when half Hawkins wanted to sleep with him, and the other half somehow hated-admired him. He was feeling like the strongest man on hearth as soon as he was leaving this house where he was just the shadow of himself. And once again, he arrived in the parking lot of Hawkins high way too fast, almost smashed the Camaro in a tree, and got out of the car with that James Dean look he knew was scoring each time. Walking his way to the entrance, he noticed the usual little gathering that was annoying him each time : Steve f*cking Harrington, Nancy and Jonathan were talking with the kids, including Max. This parody of a sister he had kept on reminding him how poorly he was loved, but still he cared for her. He just couldn’t admit it. He went closer to the group and made sure he was noticed by throwing his cigarette on the ground, almost burning Nancy’s feet. He was about to yell at Max for hanging out with them when he just noticed someone else. She was surely with them, part of that circle, yet she didn’t look like she was into it at all. She was looking around, her Y/E/C eyes scanning the whereabouts with a sad expression. It was almost impossible to see, as she was keeping on a straight face and a smile, but he knew that look very well. He knew it was the look of loneliness and of self doubt. A look he was keeping away by playing the bad kid, yet a look that always went right to his heart. He didn’t realize he was staring, silent, until Steve taped on his shoulder. 

- Hey. Billy. If you’re here to play the dick go on, we’re used to it. But make it quick, we have a basketball match in twenty minutes you remember that? 

He didn’t even answer, throwing a dark look to Steve. He was about to leave when Y/N turned her attention to the group, and he made sure this eye contact happened. She furrowed her eyebrows, not so sure of why he was being so insistant and, frankly, awkward as hell, but she didn’t move. Eventually Billy left, almost running to the basketball court, his heart pounding like crazy. 

Y/N’s POV : 

It was not really an important game, but since Steve and Billy started to play against each other there was always more people coming, and you could feel a constant tension going on. As Steve’s friend, you came to the games when you could, even though sports really didn’t make you go wild. You were sitting on a bench, joking around with Steve to help his anxiety, when Billy entered the room. He was shirtless, for once didn’t smoke, and looked like he literally put oil on his body. You furrowed your eyebrows, laughing silently at how cliché that boy was, but unconsciously bit your bottom lips, scanning his body. 

- Oh my god Y/N, not YOU ! 

Steve yelled a bit too loud. Billy turned his attention to you, and winked. You just stared for a bit and then shook your head. The match began and you just sat down looking absently at the game. You were not feeling very well, sort of empty and in the same time quite heavy. At some point you felt tears come to your eyes for no reason, and just waved goodbye at Steve. He could honestly not care less, as he was focusing on how to no get completely fucked up by Billy. 

BILLY’S POV : 

But Billy noticed. He stopped for a second, looking at you leaving and all of a sudden, he pushed past Steve and left the court. Everyone was shouting at him, some were booing him and calling him names, but he just nicely raised his middle finger to the crowd and went directly to his bag. He grabbed it, and walked fast to the parking lot while trying to put on his shirt. Halfway through it he yelled at Y/N. 

- Hey ! Hey ! Stop will you? 

Y/N turned to face him, wondering what the hell made him leave a game he was clearly enjoying winning, to run half shirtless to her. 

- Huum.. Can I help you?  

- Yes. Get in the car. 

- What? I don’t know what you think is happening but there’s no way I get.. 

- Get in the car, I'm serious. 

As Y/N just looked at him, not understanding what happened, he took a deep breath and a few seconds to think about saying the right things. The right things. What were these? It had been so long since he didn’t really think about what to say to someone. He took a few steps, standing right in front of Y/N and looking down at her. Strangely, his usual angry eyes were replaced by a sweet look, and Y/N could not lie to herself about how it made her melt down on the spot. 

- Listen, we don’t know each other, and I know I'm probably a messed up problematic nonsense dude to you, and I'm probably. 

The sudden sincerity of the conversation completely shocked her, and frankly, shocked him too. She relaxed, daring to look in her eyes a bit more intensely and laid her back on the car, raising slightly her eyebrows to encourage him to carry on. 

- But I know how to recognize a girl hurting. Or a boy hurting. I mean, anyone really. Not anyone.. aaah what the fuck ! 

- Are you going to offer me some psychology sessions Hargrove? Y/N said with a smile, trying to introduce some fun in that way too heavy atmosphere. Billy laughed a bit and found back his courage, putting a hand next to Y/N’s head, resting on the car. 

- Well, I would gladly offer you any kind of “sessions”, if you know what I mean, but I guess what I really want to say is.. it’s not easy, it’s not ok, but you can get better. And honestly I think you deserve a lot to get better. 

Y/N looked at her feet, feeling tears build up. Nobody told her that. Ever. Nobody showed that they cared about her well being in that way. And even though she barely knew Billy, and his reputation was frankly awful, she knew she could trust him enough to get that vulnerable with him. As she was lost in her thoughts, he gently took his chin with his fingers with his free hand, and made him look in his eyes. 

- Hey.. you don’t have to feel bad alone. What do you say? Will you show a little faith and let me show you the wonders of the Hargrove therapy program? 

As he said this he took a step back and his hands away, leaving some space between them for her to think a bit. He went to the driving seat, sat down and extended his harm to open the passenger door from inside. 

Y/N looked around, searching for a sign to help her make her decision. In one hand, this dude was nothing to be trusted, in the other, she really felt like he could help her, while no one else could. She whispered to herself a “what the hell” and sat down next to Billy, offering her a smile as a confirmation of her choice. He smiled a bit, with that famous corner smile with his tongue slightly liking his bottom lip. He then started to drive, taking the usual road toward his house. 

Y/N’s POV : 

Billy parked the car in front of a small house and got out. She followed, crossing her harms against her chest, as she was always doing when she was anxious. She went into the house and looked around, noticing the workout equipment in the living room, the clearly abusing use of cigarettes, and the lack of affection in all that basic decoration. She looked at him, smiling a bit. 

- You’re anxious. 

He said, just looking at her for long seconds. 

- Sit down, or look around, nothing is really private here. I’ll get you something and we can talk a bit if you feel like it. 

She nodded, going for a little walk in the house. She quickly left Max’s room, not wanting to cross some sort of limit. She looked briefly in the bathroom, noticing some body oil and hair spray proudly standing in front of the mirror. She laughed, thinking that maybe he wasn’t so different from Steve. That hair obsession, damn, what was happening with these Hawkins guys? She then went to Billy’s room. Posters of women in bikini, records, a bit of a mess, that was a typical dude’s room. She sat on the bed, and then laid down, thinking about how he would feel once he was getting sleepy. That was the worst moment for her, when she was getting back home and laid on her bed, ceiling being the reflect of her own emptiness. She heard footsteps and tried to sit down quickly, but failed when she saw Billy coming in the room, holding hot chocolate and snacks in his hands. 

- Already making yourself confortable love? Oh don’t bother, we can stay here if you don’t mind. 

- Yeah, yeah I totally don’t mind. Thanks for the drink, that’s nice. 

Taking the first sip, Y/N smiled a bit. She sat on the bed, her back on the wall, and her legs crossed. Billy gave her a moment, not daring to start the conversation already and lose her trust. He took a few marshmallows, eating while looking at her with a small smile. Why. On. Earth. Was he so nervous? 

- You’re ok? 

- Yes, thank you. That sure feels good, but I'm not sure it’s as nice for you though, I’m not exactly.. great company these days. 

- Don’t be silly, do you see me talking for hours with any of these high schoolers? Na. I don’t care about “great company”. 

He took a little pause, and put a gentle hand on Y/N’s wrist, his large hand covering a great surface, fingers brushing together. 

- And what about these days, hm? What’s going on exactly? 

Y/N took a deep breath, looking at the wall in front of her while thinking about what was indeed going on these days. 

- Truth is, I don’t know.. nothing happened, nothing wrong really happened. My parents are nice to me, they give me the space I need, they trust me.. I have friends, they’re always with me, they throw parties and ask me to hang out.. I'm healthy, I have good grades, I.. I fucking don’t know! And that’s wrong right? How the hell can’t I know? I have everything to be happy with, and I'm still that stupid girl who cries when she comes back home and didn’t genuinely smiled for months. 

Y/N paused, for once feeling more mad than sad. 

- Honestly, I feel like I'm being swallowed by a dark hole, that’s I'm disappearing in it and I'm not even willing to fight it, because who will care hm? Nobody asked me to cut the bullshit, sit down and talk heart to heart. They’re like me. They pretend it’s alright because it’s more confortable for everyone. But if it swallowed me completely tomorrow, they would barely notice. 

Feeling on edge, ready to explode, Y/N stood up and started to walk toward the living room to leave. She still had the cup, half empty now, and felt a thousand emotions crash in her heart at this very moment. She was about to reach the front door when the same strong hand grabbed her wrist and made her stop. She then felt big arms around her tiny self, and she put the glass down on the counter. He didn’t say a thing, yet the little circles he was drawing on her waist and the feeling of his hot breath on her neck was strangely calming.  

For the first time in a very, very long time, she allowed herself to be visibly vulnerable. She abandoned that inner fight she was giving every minute to look ok when she was not, she accepted an outer presence which until now felt dangerous, and she started to cry, silently, and then a bit more. When she felt sobs climbing her throat, she turned to bury herself in his large, warm body, and he tightened his grip, now drawing circles in her back and whispering “it’s ok” to her ear. After what seemed to be ages, she pulled back a little and looked at him. 

- You cried too? 

Y/N said, noticing his glowing eyes and trails of tears on his face as she gently whipped it off with her thumb. 

- Yeah, I did. Guess despite of feeling numb you’re great at making other feel things.. 

- Sorry about that, I didn’t.. 

- Don’t. I told you it’s ok didn’t I? You don’t have to feel sorry, and it’s not a single hug that will confort you fully, even in such exceptional arms. 

He said winking, trying to make her laugh a bit. Y/N smiled and played back. 

- Well, when I talked about the darkness swallowing me I didn’t mean to disappear in these neither! 

She said pointing his arms and winking back. He laughed and took her back in the said arms but quickly this time. He just held her tight for a few seconds and kissed her forehead before pushing back a bit. 

- It’s getting late, I should probably drive you home or people will be concerned. But you can come back anytime hm? And I never minded skipping classes to sit down somewhere and do whatever a lady feels up to ! 

As they were both back in the car, Y/N smiled to herself. Even though it would indeed not “cure her”, he was making this moment a bit easier to understand and go through, and that was better than I had ever been. And as he was ransacking his glove box in search of tissues, nervously putting back a pack of condoms trying to hide them quickly, but failing dramatically, she left out a real laugh, so unusual that a new tear fell down her cheek, for his greater pleasure. 

* 

Part 2? 

I’ve never written fluff, hope it was good enough ! Tell me what you through about it, and thank you again for the support and requests !! Still opened ;) 

#Billy Hargrove x reader #Billy Hargrove imagine #billy hargrove #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #dacre montgomery #dacre montgomery imagine #dacre montgomery x reader #fluff #sweet #@shadow_hunter_lover

[nega-aria]

Gyro and Mark visiting a cemetery at night

Ok, I suck super hard at keeping things short, so these may go slower than I expected, but I’m having a lot of fun with this so thanks for the request!

“You First”

Rating: SFW

Characters: Mark Beaks, Gyro Gearloose, Falcon Graves, Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera

Ship: semi Beaksloose but not very shippy

Warnings: mild swearing

“You go first.”

“Like hell I’m going in there first! What happened to youproving how oooh so much better you are than me?”

“Pfft, don’t gotta prove facts, bitch.”

“That’s literally how they become facts.”

“Look just go already!” Mark yelled, his voice quivering andshrill in the cool night air as he finally turned to face Gyro. “Unless you’drather go back to the party and tell everyone you were too chicken.”

Damn that party, and damn that smirk on Mark’s face. Gyroscowled at the outstretched arm that was extended towards the gate, hiding hisown nerves behind a demeaning attitude. “For the love of Mewton, you are such ababy!” Gyro scoffed, pushing Mark aside roughly enough to completely relocatehim. The frustration fueled anger lasted long enough for Gyro to throw themetal gates open dramatically, but he cringed in that entryway when the ironrods gave way to the inky abyss before them.

The obvious click of a phone camera went unnoticed as Gyrostarted wide eyed at the scene before him. Trees twisted in seemingly unnaturalways, their shadows casting an army of demented branches, muddled up into aportrait of madness. The hints of moon that could be seen in the cloudy skydisplayed as nothing but an ominous slice of light: a mere tease in theterrifying darkness. It was like a set, something unreal plucked out of themost cliché of horror movies, but it was real and that was enough to make tiredtropes truly terrifying.

“See, just a depository for dead people erected solely to appeasethe irrational religious beliefs of society,” Gyro stated matter-of-factly,crossing his arms over his chest casually as though his heart wasn’t literallyabout to leap right out of it.

Mark rolled his eyes at the pompous display. “Whatever yousay, professor,” he mumbled. He jumped sharply when a soft rustling in the darkthat answered him instead of Gyro. “Did you hear that?” Mark squeaked.  

“What, you scared or something?” Gyro taunted. Quitefrankly, it made him feel better about his own fear to bother Mark about his.

Mark’s feathers puffed on cue. Gyro knew they would, thesmug bastard, but that didn’t stop Mark from going on the defensive. “Of thislame spooksville? As if!”

Gyro didn’t say anything, not so much as a hint of laughter,but he might as well have been cackling manically. He didn’t even look back ashe began a slow trek into the foreboding landscape, and that crude brush-offinfuriated Mark more than a real retort ever could. He didn’t retaliate –that wasexactly what Gyro wanted, after all—but his silent seething provided more thanenough satisfaction.

They occupied themselves with investigating the tombstones,argument pushed aside to allow frayed nerves to settle on something less agitating.Just to the far wall and back and this stupid bet would be satisfied.

The age of those markers shifted like fluid with each stepfurther into the cemetery, as if stepping back through time itself so smoothlythat one couldn’t even tell they were no longer in the right century. The olderthe graves got the more ominous they looked and the more it felt as if theiroccupants would simply rise from the ground and drag any trespassers with themto hell. The rows of crumbling stone were no longer organized and well caredfor. Any people who might wish to visit long were ago buried alongside theirkin, leaving nothing behind but markers of stone and iron to indicate they wereever there at all. A mossy pile of decaying rock was all that was left to markthe final resting place of many poor souls, while others still boasted toweringmonuments, guardians with their angelic features twisted by time into abstract monstrosities.

Mark swallowed at the terrified knot in his throat, but nomatter how hard he tried it proved too tremendous to gulp down. He clung to hisphone with trembling fingers, pointing its flashlight ahead of his every steplike a cross to banish evil. A boring bunch of rocks didn’t make for the bestdistraction, but Mark did his best with what he had.

“What do you suppose this dude’s story is?” Mark asked,pointing down at the grave near his feet.

“Sorry, I left my Ouija board at home,” Gyro said with anexaggerated roll of his eyes.

He scoffed at Mark when an investigation of his silencerevealed the other man to be currently predisposed with yet more social medianonsense, using a tube of red lipstick (that Gyro truly did not want to know whyhe had) to turn the dearly departed’s surname from “Buttshide” into “here liesButts”.

Gyro had never felt second hand shame so intensely in hislife. He could swear the entire graveyard was judging him from bringing such aloser into their domain. “What are you, five?”

“Yeah, wellll I wish you were five!” Mark snapped back. “Youwere actually fun when you were five! Was before you had that ginormous stickup your butt,” he concluded, turning his beak skyward in a very snottypunctuation.

In an instant the snooty demeanor was dropped to allow Markhis oh-so important task of documenting the journey via selfie timeline. It madeGyro scowl harder as he watched the parrot demean himself even further bygiving bunny ears to a headstone. “I loathe you, you know that right?” he said,but those words were not demonstrated in what came next.

A soft snap echoed in the dark. A twig rustled by an animalmost likely, but the logic of that couldn’t quite stick; in that fog filledevening, it was most certainly the breaking of bones, some animal gnawing inthe night, perhaps even a creature of such unknown horror that they couldn’teven fathom its likeness even in the most heinous of nightmares, but it was mostdefinitely something wicked.

Be it stick or monster, it had Gyro in full flight responsemode, cringing close to Mark as the other man did the same to him. “What wasthat?” Gyro squeaked.

“Totally not a horrendous monster,” Mark whimpered. “I mean,that would be super lame, right?”

Gyro actually tried to be comforted by Mark’s absurdlyinadequate attempt at a dismissive laugh, but it proved quite foolish to eventry. “It’d be preposterous.”

The night mocked him with a far more disturbing sound, likedeath itself clawing at a grave. They stood shoulder to shoulder, wanting torun but too terrified to move.

“Gyro?”

“Y-yeah?”

“Is it bad that I reallywanna hold your hand right now?”

Yet another eerie sound pierced the night, and Gyro’sfingers answered for him, quivering digits entwining tightly with Mark’s. Hegripped tighter when a dark shadow darted through the misty graves, but Marktook it one step further by clinging to Gyro’s entire arm when that same inkyfigure got closer and its hideous noises along with it.  

“What the hell isthat thing?!” Mark hissed in a panicked whisper.

“N-nothing, because it’s not real!”

That entity swept closer, moved faster, and growled louder. Theywere being surrounded, voices whispering from all directions and death droolingdown their necks, famished for their flesh. A typically effeminate scream burstfree as Gyro launched himself into the embrace of the man beside him, holdingon as if his life truly depended on it.

“WHAT?!” Mark asked, the pure terror seething from his voiceas he frantically scanned their surroundings with wide, petrified eyes.  

“It touched my butt!!”

“Oh, great a horny ghost! Just what we need. We can get laidbefore we die!”

Gyro did not appreciate the sarcasm. “Hey, don’t get pissyat me just because my ass is so fine that the even the afterlife can’t resistit!”

“THAT pathetic thing? It’s already living in the afterlife!”

“What does that even mean?!”

“I don’t know! I’m nervous, okay?!”

Another sound, this time louder and more sinister than allthe others, had Mark crying pathetically. “Gyro, if we die I just want you toknow that I never hated you as much as I said!” he wailed as he cowered intothe other man. “I just wanted you to think I was cool!”

“That’s stupid,” Gyro replied in the calmest tone he couldmuster, “We’re not gonna die…and I’m physically incapable of thinking you’recool.”

All at once the graveyard grew silent. Mark and Gyrostiffened in the eerie quiet, both feeling the presence behind them but neitherdaring to face it. They could hear it drooling, feel its breath, sense itsfamished growls, but it couldn’t really be there… could it?

It was Mark that actually looked first, turning slowly ashis eyes widened and his entire body quivered. It was large and menacing, andin that inky darkness it was easily eight feet tall and capable of breakingthem both in half. Blood red eyes pieced through the night and wet fangsglistened. Mark could swear he saw it lick its drooling maw, but he wasn’tabout to stick around and find out what that meant. He took off before he evennoticed that Gyro had thrown himself into his arms, but the hitchhiker didn’teven phase his stride, and they clung to each other, screaming in unison theentire way out of the cemetery. Gyro had to give Mark one thing, he was prettysure he’d win the fleeing for your life contest.

Behind them the monster cackled, maniacal laugher quickly devolvinginto elated gasps for air that struggled to allow enough room to actuallybreath.

“I can’t take it,” Falcon wheezed as he watched them, flee. “They’retoo adorable.”

Falcon pulled the mask from his face, slipping from theoversized ratty mass of fur that he normally wouldn’t let anywhere near him ashe dropped himself to the ground beside the smaller man who had been assistinghis deception. He lit a cigarette, leaning against the large gravestone behindhim and still chuckling lightly as he released the fumes into the cold night. Callit foolish self-indulgence, but when this opportunity had presented itself,Falcon couldn’t resist, and he was sure he had never laughed so hard in hislife.

“Dr. Gearloose is gonna killme when he finds out about this. You know he will find out about this right?!This was a terrible idea!!” Fenton answered, his tone growing more franticuntil he was waving his arms hysterically by the end of it.

Falcon chuckled at his partner in crime. He would likely beforever grateful that Fenton had been steamed enough at his boss to even offertechnical assistance and tipsy enough to actually go through with it. “No itwasn’t,” he answered simply.  “This was bloodybrilliant.”

Immediately outside the gate both Gyro and Mark were pantingfor air, the latter asking himself how Gyro was so out of breath when he hadbeen doing all the running.

Gyro was oblivious to the annoyed look as he smoothed hisjacket and cleared his throat. “Now, when everyone else asks-”

“Oh, dude we were total badasses. Hashtag crushed it.”

“Very good.”

The wind let forth a gust, laughing at the irony as it movedthe heavy iron gate behind them just enough to make both Gyro and Mark shriekin fear and back a good distance away.

Mark gulped nervously. “…Gyro?” The other bird looked hisway uncertainly. “Will you hold my hand on the way back?”

Gyro sighed. “You do realize this is supremely pathetic.”

“…does that mean yes?”

The second sigh was even more pronounced. “Yes.”

They instantly linked fingers, both holding tighter thanthey would like to admit as they braved the dark walk back to the party. Patheticit may be, but it sure did make them both feel better.

#ducktales #gyro gearloose #mark beaks #falcon graves #fenton crackshell-cabrera #beaksloose #kinda #my stories #this was so fun #i need mark and gyro to interact more #kaylacolmanbirdqueen

[sunshinejins]

from a to z, you and me

chapter 3!!  now to explain, the past two chapters were moments from cyrus and tj’s lives that have gotten them to where they are today.  from now on, we’re staying in the present!  hope you enjoy and don’t be afraid to reblog or leave a comment :)

Now

tippen jippen kippen: what’s my contact name this week

cy: tippen jippen kippen

tippen jippen kippen: aRE YOU KIDDING ME

cy: i think it suits u better than theodore

tippen jippen kippen: better than broccoli boi i guess

cy: that was a really good contact name actually, hold up

broccoli boi: COME ON

~

Cyrus’ stomach is sinking into his shoes.  He feels like he’s fourteen again, sitting across from Buffy at The Spoon, trying to get up the courage to tell her he likes Jonah Beck.  That time, however, he had had the underlying feeling that he was going to come out okay.  This time, he wasn’t so sure.

“Cyrus come on.  It’s just one loop.”

“One loop over and over again!” Cyrus fails his arms in panic.  Buffy rolls her eyes and steals another bite of Marty’s cotton candy.  The GHC plus Jonah, his boyfriend, Marty, and TJ had all shown up to the Turtle Creek funfair for the weekend.  While the first part of the morning had been cooing over baby animals and eating copious amounts of ice cream, the afternoon was all rides.  All.  The.  Time.  

Cyrus didn’t have anything against rides really, but this was his last weekend before school started back up again (junior year, whoop whoop!) and he really didn’t want his last summer weekend to be tainted with the memory of him throwing up constantly.  Jonah gives him a sympathetic look before tucking an arm around his boyfriend Walker’s shoulders.  

“Cy, it’ll be fun!”

“No,” Cyrus folds his arms and starts walking decidedly away from the lineup to the Fireball.  He doesn’t care if his friends think he’s lame, even JOnah’s cool new boyfriend.  All he wants is sugar therapy, and he’s pretty sure he saw some mini donuts around the bumper car attraction.

“Cyrus, wait up!” Cyrus turns and TJ is jogging lightly towards him.  Cyrus feels his stomach dip slightly in anticipation and he wants to scold himself.  It’s no secret to anyone that he has a soft spot for TJ.  EVer since they were pen pals when they were little, he’s held a certain spot in his heart for him.  Even though they don’t write letters to each other anymore, the connection is still there.  Lately, however, the soft spot has been growing into something that’s horribly close to a crush and Cyrus can’t stop himself from weakening a bit at the knees whenever TJ looks at him anymore.

“Aren’t you going on the Fireball?” He shuffles his feet back and forth awkwardly.  TJ shrugs.

“Eh.  I live here.  I can come back after school Monday if I really want.”  Cyrus sinks a little remembering.  They still live in different cities.  When TJ’s parents split up when he was in the seventh grade and TJ was in the eighth, Cyrus remembers TJ’s petition to get them to move to Shadyside.  His mom eventually vetoed the idea, claiming that moving TJ and his older sister Amber to a new school halfway through a year was more trouble than it was worth.  Cyrus also remembers the grumpy way TJ wrote his letters during that time.  It was one of the last few months they wrote letters before Cyrus’ parents caved and bought him a cellphone and texting became their go to instead of pen and paper.

“Right.  School.  Different schools,” Cyrus can’t stop his gloomy tone from filtering into his voice.  TJ tosses an arm around Cyrus’ shoulders and guides him to the mini donut stand.

“Hey, if you somehow got a car to drive, you could come to see me every weekend,” TJ’s toothy smile makes Cyrus laugh.  The last time he tried to drive to Turtle Creek was with his mom one week after getting his license.  Cyrus had driven the car into a ditch and freaked out for twenty minutes straight before having his car privileges revoked for a year due to “excessive mental distress” or something.  He jabs TJ in the ribs.

“Jerk.”

They buy a bucket of mini donuts and sit on a bench next to the log flume while stuffing their faces.  Cyrus wipes crystals of sugar off TJ’s face and he smirks at him in return.  The twisty feeling in Cyrus’ stomach is back and he tries to force it down.

He knows TJ is gay.  He remembers the phone call from what’s now almost five years ago.  He remembers TJ admitting his crush on the boy with fluffy brown hair and he remembers how he was stunned into silence because he felt the same way too.  That, however, doesn’t seem to ever matter because, in the five years since TJ dropped his major truth bomb, Cyrus has yet to tell him that he’s gay.

Everyone else knows.  Literally everyone.  Even Walker, who after watching them for five minutes, turned to Jonah and asked “are they dating?” and Jonah had to answer “no because TJ doesn’t know he’s gay.”  He’s come out to everyone they’re currently with, but not TJ.  He doesn’t even have a good explanation.  It would just be too weird after so long to bring it up.  Especially when he knows after his disastrous seventh-grade fling with Iris that he could never like a girl again.  

Somehow, when he looks at TJ like this though, no hint of any romantic chemistry or anything between them, he gets it.  Telling him would change things.  It always would.

Eventually, the rest of their friends filter back, Andi looking slightly greener than usual.  Cyrus rubs her back in solidarity.  They only have a few more minutes before Amber heads back to pick them up, and Marty is the one to suggest they try the Ferris Wheel.  Andi shakes her head and votes to wait for Amber by the gate, her crush only slightly obvious, and Jonah and Walker follow along behind them.  TJ extends a hand to Cyrus.

“Come on, Cy.  I think you can handle this one.”

“Okay, Broccoli Boy,” TJ groans but still grins as Cyrus follows him.  They pair up, as usual, Buffy and Marty arguing with each other as they hold hands and board the ride.  TJ talks a blue streak in Cyrus’ ear about almost falling off the ride once and Cyrus has to lecture him about safety.  Once they’re up in the air though, his heart thuds in his chest as he realizes just how close they’re sitting.  TJ’s still talking but Cyrus is only focusing on how his lips curve around his smile and how TJ is just so damn pretty.

“Right?”  Cyrus looked up in panic at TJ’s amused face.

“Huh?”

“I knew you weren’t listening to me,” TJ smirked.  

“I was!  I just happened to have zoned out right before your question.”

“Okay, what was I talking about?”  Cyrus stays silent and TJ erupts into laughter.

“You’re a dork, dude.”

“Yeah, I know,” Cyrus shrugs before swallowing his nerves and tucking his head into TJ’s shoulder.  TJ wraps his arm around Cyrus’ shoulder and he’s hit with the sudden yearning to yell “I’m gay!” from the rooftops.  Not that he will.  Maybe when he’s married and TJ’s the best man.

The ride ends soon after that, and the teens stumble together into Amber’s SUV that she stole from their mother, Jonah’s beat up truck and Andi’s bright yellow Jeep.  Cyrus is saying goodbye to Marty when TJ bursts into their conversation.

“Hey, wanna sleepover?  Not you,” he directs to Marty before refocusing on Cyrus.  Cyrus’ eyes widen.

“Andi’s my ride.”

“I’ll drive you back tomorrow before work.”  It’s the slight desperation in TJ’s eyes that makes Cyrus cave.  He retracts his goodbye to Marty, they’ll be in the same car in like twenty minutes, and instead turns to say goodbye to the rest of his friends.

“Make a move, Goodman,” Buffy says in kind frustration as he hugs her goodbye.

“Never,” Cyrus smiles sweetly.  He hugs Andi goodbye, checks his phone again to make sure that staying over is okay, and bounds back into Amber’s car.  She grins at him in the rearview mirror.

“Hey, Cyrus!”

��Hey, Amber.  When do classes start?”

“Next week, I move out on Saturday.”

“Cool,” Cyrus nods.  Amber had graduated the year before and chosen to go to Drexel University for dance.  They were all proud of her but Andi was mourning how far away she would be in Pennsylvania.  

TJ slid into the front seat after completing a complicated handshake with Jonah and smiled deeply at Cyrus.

“Okay let’s go. Drop off Mr. The Party.”

“Still offended I’m not invited.”

~

Dear TJ,

Today I got pajamas with stegosauruses on them and I was so happy. My mom says they’re an early birthday present but my birthday is in three months so it seems kinda weird to me. Anyways, I also joined a science club with Andi. She joined to make pretty colors with chemicals and I joined to be smarter. Although I’m pretty sure all we mix is lemon juice and baking soda. How was your day?  I hope you made th-

“I can’t believe you’re reading that,” TJ teased as he tossed a sleeping bag at Cyrus. Cyrus smiled and laid down his letter.

“I was a cute kid. I like to remember.” TJ laughed and pressed play on the John Mulaney special they were watching for the fourth time and settled back into his blanket mold. Cyrus joined him after unzipping the sleeping bag to lay on his legs.

“I can’t believe you kept those,” Cyrus shakes his head in disbelief. TJ gives him a look.

“Didn’t you?”

“Well yeah. But that’s my kinda thing. Not yours.”

“I have layers, Underdog,” the cliché nickname slipped through TJ’s lips smoothly and Cyrus blushed at remembering the day on the swings he had given it to him.

He loves remembering his friendship with TJ.  It makes him feel more warm and fuzzy inside than usual.  That’s part of the reason that he hides his sexuality like he does.  He doesn’t want TJ to think he doesn’t trust him or that he wasn’t important enough to know.  He doesn’t ever want TJ to think he doesn’t mean anything.  

Instead of pressing him on his layers, or even talking about his own, Cyrus snuggles down and continued to laugh at the horse in a hospital sketch.

After all, he’s got some layers too.

taglist <3:

@illbeyourreasonwhy @tyrusflavoredtea @homosexualearthworm @proshipperandfangirl @bambikippen @unsteady-but-trying @sweet-cyrus @zooperx @ibroughtachallah @rellahad @cool-anonymous-tyrus-shipper

#tyrus #cyrus goodman #tj kippen #andi mack #buffy driscoll #amber #marty from the party #walker brodsky #jonah beck #tyrus fanfic #tyrusauchallenge #tyrus au challenge #fic #my writing #a to z

[infinitum-imaginaerum]

Well with spooky stage and fuckboi eyebrow from scentist in mind how about 34 I have a secret with your boy Ken, because damn dude can get saucy

34:“I have a secret.” | Ken

I DELETED AND REWROTE THE WHOLE THING I’M SORRY. lmao… I’m not sure I like this version any better but here it is anyway. I could have written a whole novel about this but I was like fhdjkshfsj these are supposed to be drabbles.  There’s also a super specific photo I wanted to use for this but I had to just link it here because you know how I am about formatting lmfao.  Don’t ask me why I linked that whole bit okay. 

It’s Christmas Time!

He had the most dazzling smile that would melt anyone’s heart and the kindest personality. He was tall and handsome and kind of quiet—he never gave anyone trouble and always tried to see the best in everyone and everything. He was the epitome of perfect, and he could have any girl he wanted if he would just ask.

He claimed he didn’t believe in dating because dating always meant feelings, and he was too afraid of the pain that came with all of that. All the girls pined after him in those days; it was almost gross to watch.

Ken had become a lot different since then. Now he had the appearance of the type of dude you just didn’t go around, the ones you never dared associate with because they just meant bad news. He lost that glimmer in his eyes, the dazzle in his smile—not that he ever showed it anymore. He seemed misunderstood, cliché as it was to say. He never talked to anyone anymore and was mostly on his own whenever anyone saw him around.

It kind of hurt, just seeing him, even here at a friend’s house party; a place you never thought you’d see him step foot in. You’d hardly seen him step foot anywhere since the lot of you graduated college. You sat silently, swirling your drink in your red plastic cup as you watched him. It was the first time since college you saw him flash that dazzling smile, at a girl he used to be close friends with back then. It put you somewhat at ease until he caught eyes with you.

Quickly, you looked away, trying to make it seem like you weren’t just staring at him, but his presence was crushing, especially as he approached you.

“Is this seat taken?” he asked you, pointing to the empty cushion of the loveseat you were sitting on, in prime view of the beer-pong tournament. Some people never changed.

“Only by you,” you replied, smiling up at him. He tentatively took a seat next to you, crossing his slender legs as he lounged. “I haven’t seen you in such a long time. How are you doing, Ken?” you asked him, without much room for things to get too awkward or to give you enough time to change your conviction.

He chuckled, but it was hardly genuine. You could tell he was trying to keep some things out of this conversation, but when he turned to face you, you had so many more questions. His face looked different—but not like age had changed it, different. It was hard to explain. There were a couple of deep scars through his left eyebrow, closest to you so when he turned his head, that’s what you saw first. They looked fairly fresh, considering the color of the scar tissue.

“A lot has changed,” he finally said, not really giving anything away except the obvious. You noted in your peripheral the way he gripped his plastic cup, almost crumpling it in his hand.

“Has your view on dating changed?” you asked him, mostly as a joke. You always had to laugh about it considering that most of the girls that were always after him were here, now with their long term significant others and off the market.

Ken seemed to find humor in it, because he laughed, and this time it was sincere. His gaze cast away from your face and down to your lap where you were cradling your cup. “I guess you could say that.”

You gave him a skeptical look, prodding for more.

“I’m a man,” he shrugged, “we’re all dirty beyond a relationship.”

You knew what he was implying and chuckled as an expected response before taking a swig of your drink. Small and awkward talk ensued after that, but neither of you wanted to leave knowing that there were much deeper layers to delve into with each other.

“You’re running empty. Can I get you something, so long as you promise to save my seat? I want to catch up.”

He nodded, offering you his cup, a drink, and agreeing to keep your seat. Ken opened up to you incredibly quickly after that, and the conversation began to flow better for quite some time. The two of you talked about anything and everything, essentially drowning out the party around you, especially as the beer-pong teams had died down. You were so absorbed by him, you hardly noticed the way he periodically touched your leg, or the way your body was opening up to him, or how close you had come to him.

At some point, his fingers were fiddling with yours, his gaze cast towards that to occupy his wandering while he listened to you talk. Everything that clicked with Ken felt like centuries of missed opportunities. He’d hardly touched the drink you brought him before this conversation ensued, and yours was much the same, cast aside on the end table to be completely focused on him.

For a moment, you took your attention away from him to check you watch for the time, particularly disturbed by the time and just how easily it had gone by talking to him. Your eyes darted around for your ride, who was nowhere to be found, until your gaze came back to him when he squeezed your hand.

“Do you need a ride home?” he asked you.

“Normally, I would say no, because the person typically in your position right now is some sleezy dude who doesn’t know how to leave someone alone when they’re not interested… but since I can’t seem to locate my counterpart… would you please?” you requested.

He grinned and in a moment whisked you to his car. The ride was almost silent, but you didn’t mind as you settled into his immaculate leather seat, enjoying not only the smoothness of his car, but how noiseless it was. It was fancy and new, top of the line luxury, so Ken must have become pretty successful in these few years after graduation.

There was a vacant space in the driveway of the small home you shared with your ride, so you suspected that she went home with whomever she hooked up with and wouldn’t be back until the next morning at the very earliest. Ken took the spot himself without confirming, but you were anticipating he was going to leave soon, so there wouldn’t be a problem.

Like a proper gentleman, he opened the door for you and extended a hand to help you out to walk you the rest of the way. His hands were stuffed deep into his pockets as he walked half a step behind you until coming up to the front door, where you turned to him.

“I had… the best time talking with you tonight. It was nice to reconnect,” you smiled up at him and he returned the gesture. “Normally this is the part where whoever took me home—”

“Gets all over you?” he interrupted, noting your hesitancy about the situation after it had become slightly awkward. You weren’t accustomed to just saying goodbye and nothing happening, so this was strange.

You nodded. He hummed in response.

“I mean, we did hit it off,” you reassured him, garnering a small smirk as his gaze turned back to you. Slowly, he pulled a hand out of his pocket and brought it up to gently take your chin. His gaze captivated you in a way that made you feel almost numb.

“Are you anticipating a kiss?” he asked you.

His question was almost patronizing, and you couldn’t possibly have felt more stupid for expecting such an action. Your blush was out of frustration and embarrassment, but when you tried to turn your head away with your gaze, he wasn’t about to let you. His grip was tight on your chin, keeping you facing him.

You were about to speak to defend yourself, but before you could get any words out, your breath had choked them back in your tightening throat, Ken’s breath—a mix of mint and gin—was beating against your face as he leaned in, tilting his head to dodge your nose with his as he craned down to capture your lips. His lips were so warm and so soft, so full against yours, you sighed in disappointment when he pulled away much too soon. He watched your eyes flutter open.

“I’m sorry if you didn’t want—”

“Oh, I wanted to.”

“I don’t know what my problem is. I used to laugh at the girls that pined over you,” you openly admitted, grabbing fistfuls of his jacket when both of his hands unexpectedly took your hips to pin you up against the wall adjacent to your front door.

“A lot of things have changed in the years we’ve been apart,” he uttered to you, still very calm in appearance, though he had you pinned incredibly tightly to the wall. Your breath was almost caught in your throat entirely, your fists unable to grab the leather of his jacket tight enough as you stood nearly on your tippy-toes. His middle finger stroked a straight line under the middle of your chin, bringing your face up to his so he could press a soft kiss against your lips. “I’ve got a secret,” he whispered.

Your eyes widened, the way the color of his irises shifted from deep brown to a glowing green color, his lips pulled over his teeth revealing fangs behind them. He grinned at you like his next meal—literally. He could feel you hyperventilating, if he couldn’t hear it. Your blood pressure was through the roof, your veins almost bursting at the seams which only enticed him more. Your closed fists did their best to push him away, but he was way too strong for you, even as a hand reached up to cover your mouth, silencing your scream into his warm palm.

–

Your eyes snapped open with the jolt of your body, covered in a cold sweat, closing your empty fist which pushed against a warm chest. His sweet embrace tightened around you as he shifted under you, waking too.

He wasn’t sure what was wrong, but he was cupping your head against his chest in an instant, hushing you, realizing that you had probably woken from a nightmare—it was easy to tell with your hyperventilating, your clammy skin and the way you jolted awake. Regulating your breathing was your first priority, listening to him sooth you as you tried to relax.

“Ken…” you whispered quietly, “I had the dream again…”

He hummed in response, “I thought so… You’ve been having it a lot lately. Don’t worry; I’m just me, as I’ve always been,” he soothed you.

You nodded, lifting your head from his chest to look into his dark eyes, the sweet almond shape that held dark chocolate orbs that never changed—they were always the same and always looked at you affectionately, especially when he smiled, like he was now.

“I’m definitely not a vampire,” he reminded you, stroking your hair away from your face to get a better look at you. You nodded, agreeing with him as he craned his neck up to affectionately kiss your cheek before you settled back into him, re-finding your comfortable position as he lulled you back to sleep in his human arms, against his human body, listening to his human heart.

#ken #jaehwan #vixx #ken scenarios #jaehwan scenarios #vixx scenarios #ken imagines #jaehwan imagines #vixx imagines #prompt game: Christmas 2k18 #bossmyc

[imdolaneless]

Platonish? Pt.2 (G.D.)

Summary: Y/N and the Dolan twins have been best their whole lives, they were basically attached at the hip, however Y/N’s friendship with Grayson has always been slightly different from her’s with Ethan, something that’s been stirring up problems in their relationships despite the fact their completely platonic or at least… platonish  

A/N: here it is guys, I know it took me like 90000000 years to write this but it’s finally done, I struggled so much writing this for some reason idk why, but I worked really hard on it and even though I don’t love how it turned out I hope it doesn’t disapoint, (also heads up she’s a thiccy)

Warnings: you guys already already know I fucking swear

Word Count: 9136

MASTERLIST

Part 1 / Part 2

2 months. It had been 2 months, since the night Jenna cheated on Grayson. 2 months, since he came to me as a friend broken hearted and in need of comfort. 2 months, since I drove him out to my special spot to watch the stars. And most importantly, 2 months, since I realized I was in love with his dumbass. Something that I had somehow managed to keep a secret over the past 8 weeks. Needless to say it was 2 of the longest months of my life.

Since the breakup Gray and I had been spending a ridiculous amount of time together. Which to be honest is extremely confusing for me. On one hand, I love spending time with him, just being around him makes me feel lighter and happier. On the other, I am not about this whole cliché unrequited love bullshit that I'm dealing with, and the more time I spend with him the harder it makes it for me to move on.

I sighed, collapsing on my living room couch listening to the roaring of the storm outside. I watched as flashes of lightning illuminated the sky, allowing myself to get lost in the unique rythme of the downpour. But my thoughts were soon interrupted by the sound of someone aggressively pounding on my door.

I reluctantly got up, and opened the door to reveal a very wet Grayson, fist clenched in mid knock.

"Took you long enough" He grumbled, pushing past me.

"What are you doing here?" I asked closing the door behind him.

"It's monday, we're supposed to watch the bachelorette" He shrugged, pushing his soaking wet hair out of his face.

"Where's Ethan?"

"He's facetiming Maddie and then he'll be right over..." He shivered, his teeth chattering.

"Look at you, you're soaked" I said gesturing, to the puddle that was slowly starting to form beneath his feet.

"Really?! I hadn't noticed!" He said sarcastically, his teeth chattering.

I rolled my eyes at him, "Just wait here smartass."

I left him standing in the front entrance, while I went to go make some hot chocolate. Once that was done, I grabbed a white fluffy towel from the nearest bathroom, before heading back . When I returned he was staring at his phone, brows adorably furrowed in concentration.

I gently placed the two mugs on the counter top before drawing his attention to me asking, "Who're you texting?"

"Eh, no one important" he shrugged with a small smile.

I found it a little weird that he was being so vague with his answer seeing as he was usually so open about everything, but I brushed it off. If it was important he'd tell me.

"Okay, well then catch." I said tossing him the towel.

"Thanks," He smiled wrapping himself up.

"No worries," I said passing him his cup.

He eyed it suspiciously, "What's this?"

"It's hot chocolate relax" I rolled my eyes.

He smiled gratefully, taking a sip.

Gray moaned in appreciation, "You're the best, what would I do without you?"

"Probably crash and burn" I teased, as he took another sip.

"Yeah you're probably right" he agreed, smiling dimples and all, and I swear it knocked the air straight out of my lungs.

My throat went dry, and I look down at the floor suddenly very focused on my feet, resenting the whirlwind of butterflies that had suddenly taken over my stomach.

"Do you want me to see if I have one of your hoodies somewhere that you could change into?" I offered, in a lame attempt to change the subject and ease some of the awkwardness I was feeling.

"Yeah that'd be ni- hold on, is that mine?" Grayson smirked, gesturing to the deep purple crew neck currently adoring my torso hanging till about my mid thigh.

I looked down, running my thumb over the tiny champions logo on the sleeve. "Huh, yeah it is I didn't even notice" I shrugged.

"I've been looking for that one everywhere, how long have you had it?" He asked, trying his best to look pissed, but failing miserably.

"I don't know a few months maybe? Since before you and Jenna broke up for sure" I replied.

"Well can I have it back?"

"What right now?" I asked taken aback.

"Yeah that'd be nice..."

"Are you serious?!"

Gray smirked, yanking his wet black tee shirt over his head revealing his toned abs, before extending his hand expectantly.

"Asshole." I scoffed, shaking my head. My heart was hammering against my ribcage as pulled off the sweater.

"Wait Y/N no I was just jok-" He trailed off, his eyes raking up and down my body. "...fuck"

Cheeks flushed, I dropped the bundle of fabric into his out stretched hand. "Here."

All the playfulness that was previously present, now gone replaced by tension. Grayson's beautiful hazel eyes darkened, mixed with what looked like lust and something else I couldn't quite place. I saw him glance down at my lips for a millisecond before taking a small step closer. He gently tucked a lose strand of my hair behind my ear, his hand caressing my cheek. I swear I felt my heart stop, he opened his mouth to say something but before he got the chance, my front door swung open with a dramatic crack of thunder revealing the third member of our trio, Ethan.

We immediately jumped away from each other, staring at Ethan like deer trapped in headlights.

"Okay what the fuck did I just walk into?! Why are you both half naked?!" Ethan exclaimed gesturing to Grayson and I.

l cleared my throat awkwardly, crossing my arms in an attempt to cover myself up.

"It's not what it looks like"Grayson mumbled blushing furiously.

"So you and Y/N weren't both shirtless in her front hall looking like you were about 5 seconds away from a pregnancy scare?" Ethan smirked raising an eyebrow.

I opened my mouth to argue, when I actually took in what Ethan was wearing, "Dude why the hell are you wearing a rain smock?" I giggled, he was enveloped in one of those yellow garbage bag like things that they give you at places like Niagara Falls, the hood covering his hair. Needless to say he looked ridiculous.

"Okay, first of all. It's a rain poncho not a rain smock, there's literally no such thing as a rain smock. Secondly, have you looked outside because if you have you might've noticed, it's actually raining! Sorry I'm not a freaking fish and I didn't want to get wet." Ethan huffed.

Grayson and I exchanged a look and burst out laughing.

"Bro you look ridiculous" Grayson chuckled.

"Kind of like an angstier version of Coraline" I agreed.

"Word, or like a walmart version of that sketchy sailor from spongebob."

"Okay enough," Ethan playfully glared at both of us, "I'm not the one who needs to explain my choice of outfit here, especially since I seem to be the only one actually wearing clothes" he scolded.

Ethan had an amused smile on his face, but I could tell he was starting to get fed up with our bullshit, the poor kid just wanted answers and rightfully so. However that didn't stop me from losing it every time I looked at him for too long, I think the fact he was still wearing a hood was too much for me.

"Y/N!!!!" Ethan whined.

"I'm sorry E but I just can't take you seriously with that thing on" I laughed.

"Okay enough about the poncho" He snapped, harshly yanking it off. "All I want to know is why you're wearing nothing but a bralette and adidas shorts while Gray's shirtless. I mean I know you guys have been hanging out a lot recently, so if you're togeth-"

"Relax dude, I was just wet from the storm because unlike you I didn't feel the need to wear a rain smock" Gray started cutting ethan off.

"Rain poncho but go on" "...and Y/N happened to be wearing one of my sweaters, and I jokingly asked for it back when she offered to get another one for me to change into, she took it seriously and here we are. It's not that deep" Grayson finished explaining.

Ethan looked at me for confirmation before saying, "Are you sure that's it because, when I walked in things seemed kind of... intense"

"Between me and Y/N?" Grayson raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah man I don't know, on my life it looked like you were about to kiss or something" Ethan shrugged.

Grayson laughed at this, "Us? Come on you know that would never happen in a million years, we're completely platonic"

Well that hurt.

"Yeah exactly, we're just friends" I agreed weakly, trying to ignore the stabbing pain in my chest.

"See?"

"Uh huh..." Ethan mumbled his eyes focused on me, like he was searching for questions or something that only I could answer.

"Okay well I'm going to grab a shirt then I guess we can start the bachelorette..." I said, I was starting to feel exposed under Ethan's gaze and not because my current lack of clothing.

____________

15 minutes later we were all squished on the living room couch, watching  yet another group of guys argue about 'who was really there for Becca'.

I was sitting in between the two boys, Ethan as always was getting really absorbed in the show. However Grayson seemed distracted. He was checking his phone every 5 seconds, and it was constantly buzzing. I tried to ignore it, telling myself it didn't matter what Grayson and that I couldn't care less about who was blowing up his phone. But as the episode progressed it got harder and harder for me to block it out. I made it till the rose ceremony, Becca was just about to give out the final rose when Grayson's phone buzzed for about the 100000000th time this evening.

"K bro seriously who are you texting?" Ethan asked his tone laced with annoyance.

"I'm not texting anyone" Grayson lied.

"Bullshit, your phones been going off nonstop this whole time. Which is weird because the only two people you text religiously are right here"  Ethan scoffed.

Grayson opened his mouth to protest, but Ethan raised his hand to stop him, and continued to say, "So if you're not texting me, and you're not texting Y/N, who the hell is so important that they have you practically glued to your phone, because I think we both know damn well it's not mom or Cameron."

Grayson looked down, an embarrassed smile graced his features, "Her names Nicole..." he blushed. "We've been talking for awhile and I don't know..."

My heart started beating faster as I was filled with dread.

"Well are you into her?"  Ethan asked.

"Honestly? Yeah I kind of am..." He smiled, his cheeks still tinged pink.

My face fell, and it felt like someone had knocked the wind out of me. I listened in absolute horror to Ethan teasing Grayson as he continued to gush about this girl. I tried my best to mask my emotions, but the amount of hurt I was feeling was making it incredibly hard.

"Are you going to ask her out?" Ethan asked with a small smile.

"I don't know dude we'll see, I'm supposed to meet up with her later tonight so hopefully that goes well" Grayson grinned, pushing his floppy brown hair out of his face.

"Well good luck bro, I'm happy for you" Ethan chuckled.

"Thanks," Grayson said checking his phone for the time, "I've got to get going though, I'm supposed to pick her up in 20 and I want to change first, I'll see you guys later"  He got up, his eyes still glued to his phone.

"Bye Gray" I said softly.

"See you at home" Ethan said, but he looking at me with that same intense stare from earlier, like he was trying to figure something out.

Ethan stayed silent, waiting until Grayson was gone, before saying "You okay? You look a little sick..."

"Yeah I'm fine, just tired" I said lamely, avoiding eye contact.

"You're a terrible liar Y/N" he clicked his tongue.

"I don't know what your talking about" I sighed.

"Oh really? So you expect me to believe you went from being more or less fine, to looking like someone just told you you're whole family had been murdered and you're the prime suspect, in the matter of 30 seconds because you're 'tired'"  He said raising his eyebrows skeptically.

"Framed for the murder of my family? That's a new one, most people would just go with the classic 'just saw a ghost' expression. Props for creativity E" I said avoiding the subject, starting to tidy up the mess the boys and I had made.

"Cut the crap Y/N you've been off all night what's wrong?"

I grabbed mine and Grayson's hot chocolate mugs, heading to the kitchen "Nothing's wrong like I said I'm just tired"

Ethan's footsteps followed close behind me, as I placed the empty cups in the sink.

"Why won't you just tell me the truth?" he asked, pushing himself up to sit on the counter.

I just ignored him, turning on the sink filling it with hot soapy water as I started to do the dishes.

"Does it have something to do with Grayson? Did he do something?"  

I could feel my heart rate speed up, as I focused all my attention on scrubbing the plate in my hand. "Don't be ridiculous..."

"Okay so it is about Grayson..."

"No" I lied.

"Why can't you just tell me it's not like you're in love with him or anything"

I froze, my heart pounding.

"Oh my god..." He said realization taking over his features. "You are aren't you? You're  in love with Grayson!"

I dropped the plate in the sink, soap and water flying everywhere, "What?!" I squeaked, my voice cracking.

"Holy shit you are!" He hopped down.

"Shut up I am not! " I argued taking a step back trying to distance myself from him.

"Y/N..."

"Ethan seriously i'm not in love with your stupid brother" I lied, turning away from him to wipe up the spilt water.

Ethan grabbed a towel and started helping me, "Deny it all you want, but like I said, you're a terrible liar and you're not fooling anyone"

I sighed in defeat, looking up to meet his gaze "What am I supposed to do?"

"I don't know, grow a pair and tell him?" Ethan suggested.

I laughed humourlessly "Yeah okay, and when he inevitably rejects me therefore ruining our friendship for all of eternity then what?"

"Wow, and I'm the extra one."

I glared at him.

"What makes you so sure he's going to reject you?"

"Come on Ethan I'm not naive, I know damn well he doesn't feel the same way. In his eyes we're as platonic as it gets"

He scoffed, "Okay what is with you two and that word? Both of you continuously use it as if you say it enough it'll somehow become true. Though you guys may not have realized it, you guys are not, never have been, never will be, 'platonic'. Platonish, maybe but don't kid yourself. There's always been something more than friendship there and you're blind if you think it's one sided"

"I'm not telling him, and neither are you" I said stubbornly.

"You're making a mistake" he sighed.

"Yeah well what else is new."

Ethan and I finished cleaning up in silence. I could tell he was disappointed with my decision but I honestly didn't care it was for the best.

_______________

It was pretty late by the time Ethan left, so I was already in bed when Grayson texted me.

Gray :): hey, u up?

I stared at the three words displayed across my screen, getting more and more frustrated with both Grayson and myself. Why does he think he can just text whenever he feels like it and I'll automatically be there? The days of me dropping everything for Grayson are over. It's 3 a.m. whatever he wants can wait till the morning, which is when your average friend would be up. I slammed my phone down onto my bedside table with a new found resolve, I would not be a love struck puppy anymore and I would treat him like I would any other friend. Of course all this lasted for all of about 5 seconds, before I caved.

Y/N: yeah, what's up?

Gray :) : come outside.

I sighed, pushing off my covers, grabbing a hoodie from my closet before making my way downstairs as quietly as possible, as to not wake up the rest of my family. I opened the front door to find Grayson perched on my porch steps.

"What are you doing here" I asked, sitting next to him. The storm had left a chill in the air, making me shiver as I pulled my hoodie tighter around me.

"Couldn't sleep." He shrugged, turning to face me.

"How'd your date go?" I asked trying to keep the bitterness out of my voice.

"It went." He said, his beautiful hazel eyes clouded with something I couldn't recognize.

"Was it really that bad?"

He shrugged, "No it was fine it's just... I don't know..."

"Oh. Well are you going to go out with her again?"

"Not sure, what do you think I should do?" He asked, he looked conflicted and I could practically see the internal battle he was having with himself, though I couldn't figure out what had him so confused.

"Well I think you should do whatever makes you happiest, and you seem to really like her so why not give that relationship a chance."

"Really?"

Yeah no, I think you should tell Nicole to fuck right off and date me instead because i'm hopelessly in love with you and honestly i'm shocked you can't see it.

"Yeah really, if you think she's good for you and she'll make you happy then I'm all for it." Lies.

"Hmm okay, thanks" He said standing up.

"What is that it?"

"Yeah it's getting late I'll see you tomorrow" He shrugged.

"Hold on did you seriously drag my ass outside in the middle of the night, just to ask my opinion on a girl i've never met?" I asked dumbfounded, as he started to walk away.

He stopped and turned back to face me one last time, "I'll see you tomorrow Y/N" he smirked.

"Wow I hate you."

"You love me."

Little do you know Grayson, little do you know.

____________

I stayed up almost all night, my mind racing with different scenarios and a million what if's, all of which involved Grayson. Shocking, I know. Everything with Nicole was messing me up more than I thought it would, and they'd only been on one date. I can't even imagine how bad I'll be if they end up getting into a serious relationship.

I wanted so desperately to be okay with this to be able to move on, and I honestly thought I could do it. I believed I could watch him start a relationship, and fall in love with someone else and I'd be fine. Unfortunately, the more I actually pictured it the more unbearable ththought became. Which after many hours of thought lead me to the terrifying conclusion that Ethan might actually be right. Unless I want to remain trapped in a purgatory of pining and pain, I'm gonna have to do the one thing I planned to avoid at all costs. I have to tell Grayson I'm in love with him.

I had plans to hang out with the twins and Maddie in the evening, but I decided to come earlier in the day so I could hopefully catch Grayson alone making it so there were less opportunities to chicken out. I stood in front of the familiar front door trying to build up the courage to knock, which is stupid if you think about it because nine times out of ten I'd just barge in. Today was different. Today for probably the first time in my life,  standing on my best friends doorstep I was nervous. Forget about butterflies it felt like every living creature had gotten together to throw a rager in my stomach. I anxiously fidgeted with my hair tie that I always kept around my left wrist. I had probably been standing here for a solid 5 minutes now and it was definitely starting to look suspicious.

I closed my eyes taking a deep breath. I could do this, rule number 1, don't be a bitch. So before I could overthink myself out of it, I lifted my fist and knocked on the door.

Not even a full ten seconds later I was greeted by Ethan, "Oh shit, hey Y/N what're you doing here?" he asked awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.

"I need to talk to Grayson." I replied avoiding eye contact.

"Cool, about what?" He said, glancing behind him still blocking the door frame.

"Well after some thought, I decided you were right..."

"Right about...?" He mumbled, clearly distracted by something or someone else.

"What do you think Ethan?" I asked sarcastically, his strange behaviour starting to put me even more on edge then I was before.

"Oh my god you're gonna tell him how you feel..." He said, shock and realization taking over his features.

"If you ever let me in your house" I halfheartedly teased about the fact his body was still blocking the entrance.

"No, no yeah totally, or we could grab breakfast or something first. Talk everything through, you know make sure you're ready?" He suggested.

"Honestly Eth I'm kind of scared shitless right now, and I just want to get it over with. After though I doubt I'll want to stick around so we can grab Maddie and go?" I said making a move for the door.

"Yeah okay I'll text her." He said pausing to get out his phone, "Or actually you know what would be even better? If we went now, yeah now that I think about it let's just go now"

At this point, I was starting to get annoyed I mean just yesterday he was practically begging me to tell Grayson I was in love with him. Now when I finally decided I was ready to do it was like he was doing everything in his power to stop me.

"What is up with you today? You're acting weirder than the time after Gray and I accidentally walked in on you and Maddie"

His cheeks turned pink at the memory, "I'm just hungry Y/N is that a crime?"

"Then grab your girlfriend and go get food and if you want I'll meet up with you guys later, now if you could just excuse me" I said rolling my eyes, before ducking underneath his arm and pushing my way into the house.

I started walking towards the living room, but before I could take two steps, Ethan was in front of me.

"Seriously E?!" I huffed, this was getting ridiculous.

"He's not even home right now" He tried, but I could tell he was lying through his teeth.

"Oh yeah," I said narrowing my eyes suspiciously, "where is he then?"

"Uhhh," he started his eyes fleeting to the living room for a millisecond before returning to meet my gaze, "he went for a run?"

"Uh huh, yeah okay well I'll just wait for him in the living room then" I said pushing past him yet again.

Ethan caught my wrist is his hand causing me turn around to face him, "Y/N please, let's just go you can tell him later" he said his eyes pleading with me.

I stared at him for a few seconds, before indignantly yanking my hand out of his grip and  strutting into the living room.

"No Y/N wait, don't-" Ethan tried to warn me, but it was too late.

I stood frozen in horror taking in the scene before me. I don't think I've ever regretted anything more than I regret ignoring Ethan just now. Because there sitting on the sectional, was Grayson but he wasn't alone. Oh no, he was currently being straddled by someone who I could only assume was Nicole, in the middle of a very heated make out session.

They pulled apart almost immediately once they realized I was there. Nicole looked confused and startled, while Grayson looked shocked.

"Y/N" He breathed gently pushing Nicole off of his his face consumed by guilt.

I felt like all the air had been sucked out of my lungs. It was like I was trapped underwater, everything happening in front of me distorted. I could see Grayson's lips moving but everything coming out of his mouth sounded muffled, same with Nicole. It felt like I was drowning.

I guess they noticed something was up, because Grayson was now saying something directly to me.

Yet still my brain couldn't process it. It wasn't until I felt Ethan's hand on my shoulder that I finally snapped myself out of it.

"Y/N did you hear me? I asked if you were okay" Grayson said, his eyes searching mine for any indication as to why I was acting like this.

Slowly I looked down at Ethan's hand, then back up at the twins. Both sets of matching hazel eyes focused on me, Ethan's gaze sympathetic, Grayson's filled with guilt and concern.

I realized they were waiting for me to say something, so I cleared my throat before forcing a smile and saying "Peachy, sorry I interrupted your date" I forced a laugh, the words leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. "And you must be the infamous Nicole" I continued turning my attention to the stunning brown eyed girl who was nervously playing with the ends of her thick dark curls, looking incredibly confused.

"Yeah, and you're the best friend right?" she asked politely.

"Yeah, Y/N, nice to finally meet you" I smiled, pushing away the overwhelming urge to cry.

"You too, and wow sorry if this is a weird thing to say but you're so pretty, and I love your outfit" she smiled genuinely.

"Thanks so much I love your dress, it's like yellow was made for you" I complimented, my heart aching.

Of course she was nice, god forbid she's gorgeous and a bitch.

Her kindness however was only making things worse for me, I needed to get out of here, before I have a complete breakdown. "Well, I came to see if Grayson wanted to hangout but clearly you guys are busy so I'm gonna go but it was nice meeting you Nicole" I said my voice cracking, and I quickly turned to leave practically sprinting out of there.

"Y/N wait!" Grayson called after me but I was already halfway out the door.

"Bye guys" I yelled before slamming the door behind me, I could already feel the tears starting to fall.

I heard the twins loudly arguing about something is the distance, then Ethan burst out the door.

"Y/N-" Ethan started to call after me, but I was already halfway across the street and there was no way in hell I was turning back.

I ran into my house and up to my room slamming my door closed, before I collapsed on the floor in a fit of sobs.

For hours, I sat there unmoving, crying hysterically, letting out all my sadness anger and frustration. So far this was hurting me more than any break up I'd ever endured. I felt weak, completely helpless and the fact that Grayson had that much power over me, terrified me more than anything else.

I angrily wiped away my tears, yanking my phone out of my pocket. I quickly scrolled through my contacts to the all to familiar name whose number I'd left unused for months. I opened a new conversation, typing a quick message before shakily hitting send.

Grayson's P.O.V "Fuck." I cursed, while I watched the tiny orange ball bounce off the side of the plastic rim as I missed yet another fucking shot.

I'd been shooting on the mini-hoop I had attached to the back of my door for a solid 45 minutes and I'd only managed to sink 3. I grabbed the ball that had rolled next to my bed, lining up for another shot, which of course didn't go in.

I groaned in frustration, chucking the stupid toy at my wall. Ever since Y/N walked in on Nicole and I earlier I hadn't been able to focus on anything but the absolute emptiness in her expression when she looked at me. To almost anyone else she would've looked fine, happy even. She had joked around after her initial shock, smiling, while  making polite small talk with Nicole, but her smile didn't reach her eyes.

When she ran out I wanted nothing more than to chase after her the only thing stopping me was Ethan. I fought back at first, my anger and annoyance getting the best of me, because I just couldn't understand why he wouldn't let me go after her. I eventually gave in when he reminded me that Nicole was still here and it'd be a real dick move to just leave her here alone.   So I'd gone back to the girl I should've been thinking about instead of going after the one I couldn't get out of my head. Not that that helped anything because Nicole had left shortly after, telling me that we'd be better off as friends because it was clear I had a lot of shit I needed to figure out. Whatever the hell that means. Not that I was that torn up about it anyway, she was nice and all but I couldn't help feel like something was missing.

I sighed, running my hands through my hair messing it up yet again. I rolled off my bed walking over to my window which happened to be aligned with Y/N's. I looked out at her house half expecting to see her curled up watching something on Netflix, her hair pulled back in a messy bun with her adorable glasses that I know she hates. But her room was dark. I checked the time on my phone, 11:45.

Weird she never goes to bed this early, it takes her forever to fall asleep.

I went to go text her, check in make sure everything's alright, when I noticed a car pull into her driveway out of the corner of my eye. A few seconds later I saw her jog out, wearing one of Ethan's hoodies. I don't know why but that rubbed me the wrong way as it always did when I saw her wearing something of his. My irritation only grew when I watched a guy get out of the car and give her a huge hug.

Who the fuck could she possibly be going out with?

I glared at them my jaw clenched as I watched them walk around the car him opening the door for her. It was only when I caught a glimpse of his stupid smug face and wild brown curls that I realized who it was. Her fucking ex. The dumbass that broke her heart because of his own insecurities. One of the only people it this world I absolutely loathed. Y/N was hanging out with Mitchell.

An unjustifiable overwhelming wave of rage flowed through me as I watched them drive off together. I stormed out of my room practically slamming the door behind me, and stalked across the hall angrily pounding on Ethan's door.

"Gray what the fu-" Ethan started to say, wearing only a pair of adidas sweats, his hair a mess.

"You will not believe what I just saw" I cut him off pushing past him into his room, where a stunned Maddie wearing nothing but one of Ethan's tee shirt, was laying on his bed. "Hey Madds"

"Hey Gray" she waved awkwardly, I could tell she was still surprised by me barging in.

"No offence Grayson but I don't give a shit about some dumb squirrels fighting over an acorn again, now get out." Ethan said unable to keep the irritation out of his tone.

"Okay first of all they were not just 'fighting' over an acorn they were full on dueling with sticks and all and it was fucking sick. Secondly that's not why I'm here. I just saw Y/N getting into a car with Mitchell" I said scowling, the thought filling me with a whole new surge of anger.

Ethan raised his eyebrows in surprise, before quickly covering it up with disinterest. "So what why do you care?"

"I care because she's my best friend and I don't want that asshole to hurt her again."

Ethan rolled his eyes, "I honestly don't know why you hate Mitchell so much, he's a pretty nice guy yet you act like he's the devil reincarnated."

I stared at him in shock, he couldn't possibly be  serious, "I mean he's the world's biggest tool, who never deserved Y/N and broke her heart for no reason but other than that yeah he's a real stand up guy!"

Ethan and Maddie exchanged a look, before Ethan said with a smirk, "Sounds like you're a little jealous there bud"

"Me? Jealous? Please!" I scoffed, "I just think Y/N deserves someone who will actually treat her right for once, because she's one of the most amazing girls I know and I don't understand why she wastes her time with shrimp dick."

Now Maddie and Ethan were both staring at me with shit eating grins, "You're so right he he's insanely jealous right now!" Maddie smirked.

"Oh fuck off Madeline I am not" I glared my cheeks heating up.

Maddie just laughed, "Awh look at him he's blushing!" she teased, of course making me blush more. "Does Grayson Dolan have a little crush on Y/N?"

Ethan lost it, he was laughing so hard he started wheezing.

"You guys suck." I said frustratedly getting up. If I wasn't blushing before I sure as hell was now, and I could feel my heart rate skyrocket.

"No Gray wait don't go, we're sorry!" Ethan said clearly trying to hold back his laughter.

"I hate you."

"Come on bro don't be like that, this is clearly bugging you so let's talk about it" Ethan pleaded.

I contemplated his offer for a second, before ultimately reclaiming my spot on his bed. As much as I didn't want to admit it I know talking about it with him would help me clear my head.

"I just don't know what she sees in him, she's a million times better than he'll ever be" I sighed, "Maybe I should go find them..."

"Wait? What?!" Ethan asked startled.

"Yeah I could check snap map or something, and go make sure she's okay..."

"Dude absolutely not. You're not going to crash her date" Ethan said looking at me like I was absolutely insane.

"But-" I started.

"No Grayson, I'm not going to let you stalk our best friend." Ethan cut me off.

I opened my mouth to protest, but Ethan stopped me before I could say anything.

"No Gray. Think about how crazy you sound right now! You're acting lowkey psycho, just wait until she gets back to talk to her later like a normal person" He scolded.

Ethan was right. I was being ridiculous. Like some sort of crazy overprotective boyfriend and we aren't even together! I don't know what got into me, I was not, never had been, never will be that guy. There was just so many things going through my brain that'd I'd gotten a little riled up.

I looked at him guiltily, "You're right, I don't know what's up with me today, sorry dude"

"You don't need to apologize, just chill." He said sympathetically.

I nodded, standing up walking towards the door. "Thanks guys," I said, pausing before adding, "Oh and since I know the second I leave you guys are gonna finish what I clearly interrupted earlier, Maddie try and be quieter our parents are sleeping and you wouldn't want to wake them up, that'd be a nightmare for you two to explain"

Now it was their turn to blush, Maddie looked embarrassed while Ethan looked pissed, "Oh my god shut the fuck up assface" Ethan glared chucking a pillow at me.

I narrowly dodged it chuckling "Use protection!" I called, bolting to my room before Ethan had the chance to throw something harder than a pillow.

I scrolled through my snap memories while I waited for Y/N to get back. Most of them were of Ethan doing something stupid, but a few were of Y/N. I clicked on a video she'd taken a while back while we were driving around one night listening to music, when out of nowhere Lay all your love on me from the Mama Mia soundtrack came on. She'd been obsessed with that musical when we were kids, making us watch the movie over and over again until Ethan and I staged an intervention. I had whined and complained asking her to change it but she just turned it up and sang at the top of her lungs. In the video she was singing the chorus as loud and as off key as she could, making faces and zooming in and out while I watched her from the drivers seat with an amused smirk. I remeber I'd tried to act annoyed but she was to damn cute I couldn't keep a straight face. When the video ended I had a stupid smile on, remembering how shortly after that video was taken she'd managed to convince me to join in on the duet which ended with us both laughing our asses off. It had been a good day.

I scrolled down to the next snap with Y/N. It was another video except this time I had taken it. This one was more recent, it was from one of our movie nights a few weeks ago and I'd forced her to watch IT for the first time even though she's terrified of clowns. In the video she was snuggled into me, with her fuzzy blanket almost covering her eyes. We'd been eating popcorn and the bowl was resting on her lap. It was at the part of the movie where pennywise jumps out of the old film projector the kids where looking at. Obviously that scared Y/N shitless and she'd jumped sending the popcorn flying everywhere, screaming and cursing under her breath, while I was pissing myself laughing and teasing her in the background. I had ended up sleeping over that night and I remember waking up with Y/N in my arms, even though when we went to sleep we were on opposite ends of the bed, feeling nothing but pure happiness.

I continued to look through the old snaps and the more I looked the more they're actually were of Y/N. Videos of her attempting to learn fortnight or singing and dancing obnoxiously around the room. Random ones of her playing with my hair or flipping me off. Pictures of her with food all over her face, or passed out on my shoulder during long car rides with Ethan. Some selfies we took after she got me to do face masks with her. So many pictures from when we go out for food weather it's fast food in the car or a legitimate meal at a restaurant. All of them bringing back fond memories like the time we went cliff jumping or when we took her to get her first tattoo.

However, the one picture that made me stop everything I was doing to stare at it, was one taken only about a week and a half ago. We'd gone to the beach earlier in the day, and her, Maddie, Ethan and I had all gone back to our house for a bonfire. She had on one of my hoodies, shocking, (I swear this girl never wears her own clothes) and I'd pulled her on to my lap so I wouldn't have to go get her a chair. In the photo she was laughing at something someone had said, her eyes lit up with happiness, the light from the fire making her look like she was glowing from the inside out. What made me uneasy about it was how I was looking at her, I was starting at her with the biggest smile, like she was the most amazing thing I'd ever seen or some shit. Ethan must've taken the picture without me noticing because I don't think I'd ever seen it before. An overwhelming feeling of adoration and longing surged through me, we looked like a couple.

I put my phone down next to me, Maddie's words replayed in my head. Did I like Y/N? I mean we'd been friends for so long I didn't think it was possible to be or to want to be anything else. She was beautiful there was no denying that, not so much in an in your face super model kind of way, no her beauty was more natural, unfiltered and as cliché as it sounds she took my breath away. The more I think about it, the more I realize the butterflies I'm always ignoring when I'm around her and yesterday at her house, I had wanted to kiss her. The only reason I didn't was because Ethan walked in. But that didn't mean anything right? I had just gotten caught up in the moment. I couldn't like Y/N. I looked back down at the picture of us the warm feeling in my stomach spreading to the rest of my body, causing panic.

I hurried back to Ethan's room, not even bothering to knock this time. Him and Maddie were in a heated make out session but thankfully they were still clothed. Or at least mostly clothed.

"Seriously Grayson?! It's like your trying to have a repeat of last month! Get the fuck out!" Ethan screamed, after him and Maddie pulled apart.

"Why'd you take this picture" I ignored him shoving my phone in his face.

He grumpily snatched the phone from my hand to get a better look, "I don't know dude you both look happy, it's a good angle, the fire adds a nice aesthetic," he shrugged handing it back to me, "Can you leave now? We were kind of busy..."

"We look like a fucking couple Ethan" I exclaimed, sitting down on his bed.

Ethan groaned in frustration, "Yeah? So what?"

"So what?! I'm freaking out! I can't have feelings for her, she's Y/N!"

"It's just a picture Gray it's not a big deal" Ethan sighed. "Besides so what if you do like her? I think you guys would be good together."

"Bro, do you have any idea what a gross cliché that'd be?! I don't like her like that. I can't." I said, but I sounded unsure. At this point it was more like I was trying to convince myself rather than Ethan.

"You're being so dramatic right now" Ethan sighed, putting his head in his hands, "You've literally got yourself worked up over one stupid picture where you guys look like your a little more than friends. I mean you said it yourself, you don't like her like that, so why are you still here? What's the problem"

"It looks like I'm in love with her Ethan! It's not supposed to look like you're in love with your best friend!" I frustratedly ran my hands through my hair.

Maddie whom I'd completely forgotten was there, looked from me to Ethan with a small smirk, "E should we tell him or do you think that'd make things worse?"

"Tell me what?"

"Nothing it's not a big deal, it's just that you always look at her like that, you have since we were 12" He shrugged. "It's worse when you talk about her though because then you get this really stupid expression on your face kind of like you just got really good head or something"

I felt my cheeks heat up, "I do not!" I weakly argued.

Maddie laughed slightly, "I don't agree with my idiot boyfriends analogy, but yeah you totally do. It's like someone will just mention her name and you get this big dopey smile on your face it's hilarious"

I looked at my brother and his girlfriend looking for any signs they were messing with but I found none.

"What does that mean?" I said quietly, my heart pounding, terrified of what it could be.

Ethan's expression softened, his earlier frustration had almost completely vanished, replaced with a knowing smile as he and Maddie exchanged a look.

"I think you know damn well what it means Grayson I just think you're too much of a fucking pussy to admit it to yourself."

I thought about everything, the butterflies, constantly finding some excuse to touch her or be near her because of the almost electric feeling that came with it. How her smile lit up a room, how I was always so fascinated in how her eyes would change depending on her emotion and what she was wearing. How I knew basically everything about her yet she never failed to amaze me. Ethan was right I knew what it meant, and I swear that realization made my heart drop to my ass. Your P.O.V I had texted Mitchell earlier with the poorly thought out intention to try and get back together. That being said I was fully expecting him to ignore me. Our breakup wasn't the messiest but it hadn't been all sunshine and roses either. What I didn't expect was, him to not only text back but to invite me to hangout as well.

He'd picked me up, greeting me with a hug and a smile and we drove around for a few hours. We talked through everything he apologized for how he ended things, and I apologized for being too blind to realize my own feelings. He told me about his new girlfriend, his eyes lighting up as he talked about her and I found myself being genuinely happy for him. I ended up cracking and filling him in on my whole dilemma which he was very sympathetic to. In the end we decided we'd stay friends and I was happy.

"Well thanks for everything Mitchell I really needed this." I said as we pulled into my driveway.

"Of course, and hey let me know if you want me to set you up with my friend Anthony" he said.

"I might have to take you up on that" I laughed, getting out of the car.

We said our goodbyes and I watched him drive away. When I looked back I finally noticed the floppy haired, hazel eyed boy who'd been causing me so much heartache recently standing at the end of his driveway.

"Grayson what are you doing out here?" I asked, my heart beating rapidly in my chest.

"I came to drop this off," he said lifting up his purple champions sweater I'd returned to him the day before.

"You came to give me your sweater?" I asked confusion taking over my features.

I guess the question caught him off guard because he started stuttering, "Y-yes I mean, N-no, I mean y-you like it so m-much I-"

"Why are you really here Grayson?" I sighed.

He walked closer to me, "I wanted to talk." he said quietly "I see your hanging out with Mitchell again"

I swear I saw a spark of jealousy ignite in his eyes.

"Yeah? So what?" I said indignantly, crossing my arms over my chest.

"So? He hurt you! Why would you want to be around him!" He said, I could tell he was frustrated.

You hurt me! More than he ever did and looky here i'm still putting up with your bitch ass.  "That's in the past Gray, things are different now" I rolled my eyes.

"How Y/N? Please enlighten me." He scoffed.

"We're friends."

"Yeah until you 'accidentally' wake up in his bed"

"Do you really think that lowly of me? We've been best friends our whole lives I thought you knew me better than that..." I said, the overwhelming feelings of hurt and disbelief consuming me.

"No Y/N you know that's not what I meant, I just don't trust him with you." Grayson tried to explain.

"You don't trust him with me? What the fuck does that even mean?!" I said, I could feel the anger bubbling up inside me, this was getting ridiculous, "You don't get to judge who I hangout with or what I do with my life. I'm a big girl I can make my own decisions."

"So what are you going to do, fuck around with him until he gets tired of you and breaks your heart again?" Grayson glared, his jaw clenched in anger.

"Wow, okay. Fuck you Grayson." I spat, I could feel the tears threatening to spill, which only added to my frustration, I was tired of crying. I took a few steps backwards trying to create distance between us.

His expression immediately softened, his eyes filled with guilt and regret "I am so sorry Y/N I didn't mean-"

"No fuck you." I cut him off. "You're acting like a jealous dick and for what?! Because I was hanging out with another guy?! That's bullshit Grayson! You were literally making out with Nicole this morning! You're not my boyfriend, you always make that perfectly clear to anyone who asks, so why the hell do you care so much if I end up fucking Mitchell or not? It's not like I haven't done it before, we dated for like 6 months..."

"Because it makes me sick to my stomach thinking about you with him, his hands on your body... I just... I don't want to fucking picture okay?! I've hated all of your past boyfriends and until today I had no fucking clue why, because I mean we're just friends right?" Grayson ranted, laughing humourlessly.

I opened my mouth to say something, but Gray continued before I got the chance.

"Except, I can't stop thinking about you, and when I'm with you I swear my hearts about to beat out of my chest or some shit, but still I tried to convince myself we're just friends. I threw myself into half assed relationships to avoid what I was really feeling because the second I admitted to myself it made it real. But today I was looking through some old videos and pictures of us and I realized, as cheesy as it sounds, I'm the happiest when I'm with you. You're funny and kind, and you're strong, and you're really fucking pretty. It doesn't matter where I am or what I'm doing I always want to be with you, and I can't keep ignoring it forever. So I'm sorry I was an asshole, and I'm sorry if this ruins the friendship but Y/N I'm in love with you. I'm so in love with you it scares me because I have no idea what'd I do without you in my life, I honestly don't think I could handle it."

I stood frozen in shock, letting his confession sink in. There was less than a foot of space between us, his hazel eyes filled with so much emotion, I found it hard to breathe.

I guess I was taking to long to react, because Grayson's somewhat hopeful expression started to falter.

"Y/N, please say something..." He said softly, his eyes searching mine for some kind of indication on how I was feeling.  

The vulnerability, in his voice was enough to bring me back to reality. Now our faces were less than six inches apart.

I broke out into a huge smile, "Wow Dolan, I always knew you were obsessed with me, but I have to say, that was unexpected"

He groaned, placing on of his hands over his heart, "Oh my god you're the worst. I pour my heart out to you and that's your response? I hat-"

I cut him off by gently placing my lips on his kissing him slowly. He didn't react at first, apparently too caught off guard to move. I started to pull away, but Grayson stopped me. I guess at that point he'd finally processed what was happening because he wrapped his arms around me pulling me closer and deepening the the kiss. His soft lips moving perfectly in sync with mine I smiled, my whole body felt like it was on fire, but at the same time I had shivers running up and down my spine.

After what felt like an eternity, yet still not enough time we broke apart breathless.

"I love you too." I said softly my voice barely above a whisper.

His whole face lit up with the most breathtaking smile, that made my stomach explode with butterflies, as he leaned in to kiss me again.

"Even though you're an asshole sometimes" I teased, biting my bottom lip.

"Me?! You're one to talk! I told you I loved you and you response was 'I knew you were obsessed with me.' Who does that? You almost gave me a heart attack!" he said indignantly, pulling back slightly.

I laughed "Sorry Gray, but in my defence you caught me completely off guard."

He playfully rolled his eyes, closing the distance between us and kissing me softly.

"I love you, even though you're a little shit sometimes" He said giving me another quick peck. "Be mine?"

I smiled kissing him again.

"Is that a yes?" He grinned.

"Yes." I rolled my eyes, unable to keep the smile off my face.

Still smiling, Grayson started to lean in, but before our lips could touch, we were interrupted.

"FUCK YEAH CAM OWES ME 50$ HAH!"

We turned to see Ethan and Maddie standing in the doorway of the Dolan house, with messy hair and minimal clothing.

"Ethan shut up can't you see they're having a moment?!" Maddie said smacking him lightly upside the head. "SORRY GUYS CARRY ON"

Grayson shook his head slightly, cheeks flushed, closing the gap between us. I kissed him back intensely, while we flipped off Maddie and Ethan who were obnoxiously cheering.

"So much for being 'Platonic' huh?" I said softly.

Grayson let out a breathy laugh, "You know, I think I like this better anyway"

#ahhhhhhhhh this sucks #sorry about that #I don't blame you guys if you let this flop #love you all #grayson dolan #ethan dolan #dolan twins #grayson imagine #ethan imagine #grayson dolan imagine #ethan dolan imagine #dolan twins imagine #grayson oneshot #pt22222 #it’s platonish pt.2 #my works #corr try's writing #p.s. this is unedited sorry kids

[mercury-dust]

venus ✧ roger taylor (ch. one)

— 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞! ; sorry if there are orthographic errors, this is my first time writing in english since it is not my native language. if you know spanish in my wattpad profile you can read this same fic in spanish. and welcome to venus! 

— 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬! ; epigraph, one

— 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠! ; hardy! roger taylor x original character (venus austin)

— 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲! ; Venus Kendrick Austin was an misfit who loved to break the rules without caring what the others thought or said about her. Venus is a lover of music and art that studies Fine Arts at East London University where, by luck or disgrace, she meets the heartbreaker of the university Roger Taylor and together they fulfill the dream of their lives.

THE CIGARETTE WAS CONSUMED RAPIDLY WHILE VENUS SUCKED FROM IT. The smoke came out of her mouth like a big thick ball of smoke, making her relax her shoulders almost instantly as she felt the nicotine entering her system, although she didN’t feel relaxed at all. She swung her feet from side to side as she watched the night campus full of drunk people and, most likely, drugged who had come to celebrate the holidays at the Imperial University.

The music was heard loud and clear from the bar that was a couple of meters from the bench where she was sitting. For some time she had lost Maeve, she had probably gone home with some boy and, frankly, Venus was thinking about the same thing but without the heaviness of a companion.

“And in my hour of darkness she is standing right in front of me” She murmured listening to the chords of Let It Be, which was being played in the bar of the university. The cigarette still lit on her right hand while the left moved from side to side to the rhythm of the song, as did her body, which began to sway gently from side to side. The Beatles' voices joined hers in beautiful harmony, making her care less about the tone of voice so she stopped murmuring and began to sing with all the feeling she had, making the few sober people turn their heads to see the siren owner of that voice.

Not far from the bank, in the same door of the bar, a blonde with long hair was observing her with a smile on his face and a brunette with long legs in his arms. The girl, noticing the lack of attention, separated her face from his neck and looked at him with a frown.

"Roger, are you listening to  me?" She tugged on the lapels of the boy's jacket, causing him, with too much effort, to look down at her.

"What's up, Adele?" He asked with some annoyance before turning his gaze to the girl who was now smiling at the strangers who applauded.

The brunette frowned even more, letting go "It's Daisy”.

“Oh, right” He made a bad attempt to look surprised but the college student realized that she hadn’t the slightest interest in what her name was or in herself. She looked at him with a fake smile on her lips.

“Go to hell” The palm of her hand impacted against his cheek and after giving him a smile of satisfaction she moved away from him to enter at the bar again.

Roger followed her with his gaze and shrugged. He brought his hand to the affected area once he claimed that the girl had gotten into the bar.

“Fuck, it itches ” He made a grimace writhing in place while rubbing his cheek in quick movements to try to make the itch go away, eventually it did but that didn’t stop to leave a big red mark on his entire left cheek. He snorted when he saw his reflection in one of the bar windows. He glanced quickly over his shoulder in the direction where Venus was still sneered, this time alone. He raised his eyebrows at seeing her alone and smiled to himself before turning to the window again and fixing his hair, when he was satisfied with the result he gave a smile to his reflection accompanied by a wink and turned to go towards the bench.

He walked unhurriedly towards her and when he reached his destination he sat down next to the girl, turned in his place to look at her and opened his mouth to speak but she did before.

“It's bad manners to look at a young lady for so long” She lit another cigarette and soon took it to her lips. Roger's eyes followed the nicotine stick and concentrated on her lips when it reached them "It could be considered harassment, you know?".

"It's not harassment if the lady is interested too, love" He shrugged a second time in the night before bringing his fingers to her lips and snatching the cigar. When the skin of his fingers brushed lightly with her lower lip theirs eyes made contact, contact that Venus broke when his hands slowly and tortuously separated the white stick from his mouth. They both smiled at the same time, Venus hiding her face from him and him with his gaze on her.

They both remained silent for a few seconds, still thinking about the event just happened, their eyes turned away from each other. The Austin girl frowned thinking that the situation with her feelings was too strange because she had only seen the boy once and her stomach was already causing the typical pressure that made her want to let out a high-pitched scream. She let out a slight sigh, scolding her hormones to relax. Giving a frantic look to the campus in search of something that would entertain her.

“You didn’t tell me your name” She felt his blue eyes fall back on her skin, almost burning her. He smiled, pressing his tongue against his lower teeth.

“I'm not going to tell you, Roger Taylor” She pressed her lips together, making them disappear in a to thin line while shrugging, turning around to look at him.

“Oh, but you know my name” He opened his mouth feigning surprise. He brought his right hand to his chest, placing it over the heart, formed a pout “C’mon, love. It isn’t fair that I don’t know the name of the love of my life but she does”.

Immediately Vee snorted amused thinking that Roger Taylor was a cliché with legs and blond hair “Love of your life?”.

“My father usually says that when you like something and have a strong feeling towards it, it’s because it is destined to be something important in your life. I am completely convinced that you are the love of my life" He took the pack of cigarettes out of one of his jacket pockets and offered one to Venus, who nodded, reaching for it, but before she could, Roger pulled ot close to his lips and kissed the cigarette before extending it again. The brunette shook her head accepting him.

“Oh seriously?”.

“Yes” He said with his cigar already lit.

“I don’t believe you”.

“Well, that's your problem”.

“And how many girls have you said that?” She raised both eyebrows causing the smile that formed on the lips of the drummer to fall making her laugh internally.

Roger quickly reassembled, throwing his shoulders back, preparing to release his next comment "Yes, I've told too many. But...

“But?” Asked, curious by the continuation of his comment.

He raised a hand, his cigarette between his index and middle fingers, indicating that she will wait.

“Dramatic pause” He whispered making her laugh again, but this time really. He smiled at the sound that swore he heard ten times better than his beloved drums. He winked at her “Ready?”.

“Of course” She smiled excited and entertained by the situation. She should thank Maeve tomorrow for leaving her alone, this was much more entertaining than seeing her trying to flirt with some dude.

“But none compares to you”.

"No!" She exclaimed before they both began to laugh, drawing the attention of the other university students, although they didn’t care much.

A week had happened since the last time Venus saw Roger Taylor and, definitely, Venus wasn’t too happy with that fact and that scared her because she knew the boy's reputation among the university students thanks to Maeve, who had been responsible to update her about Smile's drummer and his many conquests the day after that night when they both laughed and talked about stupidities as if they were lifelong friends who had just met again after many years without seeing each other. .

Venus Austin was a realist who knew that she hadn’t much chance of having the campus heartthrob drooling over her and leaving her hobby to go from bed to bed like a bee going from flower to flower just for her, for the — supposed — l love of his life. She knew that he only wanted to get into her pants and she was fine with it because everyone is free to do whatever they wants with their life but she didn’t want to screw up and develop feelings for him.

She knew there was more than one girl that had happened to her.

When she told this to her best friend, Maeve said, "You're nineteen! You have to go out, dance, sing, hook up with boys. You have to live! You'll have time to find an guy to marry you and settle down but first you have to lose it so ¡fuck Roger Taylor and then you tell me”.

The crazy of Maeve gave her advice above all, though Venus knew she would not need them because Roger Taylor would have forgotten about her back to school.

Oh, how wrong she was.

“Goodbye, Vee” Some of her classmates said goodbye to her when the alarm sounded throughout the university. She gave them a short smile and turned around to go to her room where she would lock herself up all afternoon with a couple of packets of tobacco, some chocolate and old movies, maybe, just maybe, she would invite Maeve and even maybe her sister if she wasn’t too busy with her work.

Muttering the lyrics of some song that she didn’t know it’s name and the singer's name, she continued her way down the hall full of students. She sighed, she was already missing the vacation. She smiled relieved when she left the building and proceeded to take the package and lighter from her purse, leaning on one of the walls of the building. She brought the white tube to her lips and threw her head back when the smoke hit her lungs.

A light touch on her right shoulder made her open her eyes. She growled slightly, mentally cursing the bastard who had interrupted her in her moment of relief before turning around.

"Yes?" She raised her eyebrows, staring at the man with remarkable deep circles under his eyes.

"You're Venus, right?" He asked, making her frown "Venus Austin, right?”.

“Yeah, that's my name” She nodded somewhat confused by the situation, tilted her head to the side while watching him from top to bottom. He was tall “And you are?”.

“I'm Tim Staffell” He gave her a smile before taking his free hand between hers and beginning to shake them slightly, Venus followed the movement with her eyes “Look, the other day, at the party of the Imperial, I heard you sing and, well, I have a band and I would love for you to be part of it”

Actually, Tim was lying. Yes, he had heard her singing that night and yes, he had a band but he didn’t want a member anymore just because Venus' voice had dazzled him but because he needed a replacement for himself when he left with Humpy Bong. He knew that Brian would love the voice of the girl Austin and Roger, well, Roger would think she was hot and accept only for that reason.

"Eh, yeah, you'll see" She slipped from her grip before running her hand through the fabric of his coat, trying to cleanse her skin from the stranger's touch "I'm not looking for a job, but thanks”.

“No, no” He denied when the girl started to walk away “It's not a job, we only make music for fun and love of our own music. Although it is true that we earn money every time we play in a university or bar”.

"Good for you, Timmy" She shrugged and resumed her walk before she had the man in front of her again. She let out a frustrated sigh. "Oh, for the queen”.

“Please, Maeve has told me that you love to sing and that your dream is to be a singer. You could fulfill it” He joined both palms, just as he was praying making her roll her eyes when she heard the name of her best friend.

She clicked her tongue “Maeve, of course” She pulled the strap of her backpack over her shoulder and took a drag on the cigarette that was consumed only between her fingers. She bit her lower lip “If I say that yes will you leave me alone?”.

Tim nodded before she pushed him out of the way and continued her walk to her room.

As I said, Venus was wrong.

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