#and i have to download yet another fucking app for her class

[bitegore]

god i really forgot that every business management professor specifically is the most unpleasant human being alive for no good reason. i have two business classes with like econ and accounting professors respectively and those look fine and then oh my god if i have to go back to this class with this professor i think i might actually kill myself

#red rambles #she's not. *mean*. she is. um. fucking. i think condescendiing is the word #she made us do a kahoot in class on questions we didn't know explicitly because she knew we didn't know them. i hate kahoots #she went through the syllabus like we were children which. fine whatever every professor does that it's why i hate the first class #but she also kept going off topic to give us life advice. never give me life advice ill fucking kill you #im really not sure what else was my fucking problem but i genuinely felt like i was being psychologically tortured #also i have done one of the several assignments for the class already and they're babyshit but its going to be one of my most #busywork heavy classes and she wants us doing discussion questions every fucking week #and i have to download yet another fucking app for her class #and i need it for my degree plan but oh my GOD. i need to get the fuck out of it #im gonna try and find a different session of the class taught by a different professor and switch in #do you know how much i have to hate a class if im willing to eat two entire finished homework assignments to get out of it #eta. i take it with this professor or i take it with a different professor i know and already know i cant stand #who is also going to work us like dogs unlike this prof who is going to apparently treat us like we are 14 years old #i guess its not college if i'm not being forced to experience psychological torment for an hour and a half every couple days lol #ill just have to like eat something before that class and do my best to fortify myself before i go in and turn evil

[ultimatelyunassuming]

"Did you find the meme yet?" Karkat lazily asks, a arm wrapped around your chest as he absentmindedly watches the tv.

"Be patient man," you respond, leaning against Karkat's body, "This shit takes time."

"You've been looking on discord for ten minutes. Ten! It shouldn't take this long to find one shitty meme."

"I'm leafing through 6 years of dms between us, it's gonna take this long to find one shitty meme sent, like, a million years ago."

He grumbles something incoherent and vaguely antagonistic as he rests his head on your shoulder. You think he said something about how this meme better be good. "Awww, I love you too," You coo. You can feel how hard Karkat is rolling his eyes. You smile and turn your attention back to your phone. You scroll absentmindedly through thinly veiled threats between the two of you sent years and years ago, keeping an eye out for a deep fried Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff gif you sent him during middle school to try and get him to blow up at you. Your eyes practically glaze over as you grow bored of looking. After another minute of searching, you almost deem this mission a failure, until...

carcinoGeneticist: HEY THERE ASSHOLE, I DOWNLOADED YOUR SHITTY, HIPSTER, GAMER MESSAGING APP, CAN WE FINALLY WORK ON OUR PROJECT?????

Oh my god. You found Karkat's first message to you.

turntechGodhead: yea sure

carcinoGeneticist: I DON'T UNDERSTAND WHY WE CAN'T JUST TEXT EACH OTHER LIKE NORMAL FUCKING PROJECT MEMBERS.

carcinoGeneticist: EVERYONE ELSE IS NEARLY DONE WITH THEIR POSTER BECAUSE THEY WEREN'T PETULANT CRYBABIES THAT THREW A TANTRUM AT THE MERE THOUGHT OF COMMUNING WITH SOMEONE EVEN SLIGHTLY OUTSIDE OF THEIR SOCIAL CIRCLE.

turntechGodhead: hey i dont throw tantrums

turntechGodhead: if anyone would be throwing a tamper tantrum itd be you

turntechGodhead: and besides i dont keep cringe people in my contacts

turntechGodhead: if i did theyd starting infecting all other contacts

turntechGodhead: its a real fucking issue

turntechGodhead: so i have to quarentine all the dipshits to here

turntechGodhead: thanks for understanding

You make a face, both in nostalgia and second hand embarrassment. Jesus, you were a fucking tool. 'I don't keep cringe people in my contacts', look who's talking, Mr. I-made-my-entire-personality-out-of-liking-Leafy-and-Sjw-Cringe-compilations. Damn, he'd have a fit if he found out you're dating Karkat.

carcinoGeneticist: LET ME GUESS, THE ONLY PEOPLE IN YOUR CONTACTS ARE JUNE, ROSE, JADE, TEREZI, AND YOUR "COOL AND AWESOME BRO".

turntechGodhead: damn right

turntechGodhead: whats with the caps lock

carcinoGeneticist: MY CAPS LOCK IS BROKEN.

turntechGodhead: cool

turntechGodhead: now tell me what i gotta do im a busy man i dont have time to sit around and wait for shit to get finished

carcinoGeneticist: YOU'RE JOKING.

carcinoGeneticist: TELL ME YOU'RE JOKING.

turntechGodhead: nope

carcinoGeneticist: YOU SERIOUSLY DON'T KNOW WHAT OUR PROJECT IS ABOUT?

turntechGodhead: no

carcinoGeneticist: YOU'RE KIDDING ME?????

carcinoGeneticist: OUT OF EVERYONE IN CLASS, I WAS GIVEN THE MOST BRAIN DEAD EXCUSE OF A STUDENT TO BE FORCED TO WORK WITH.

carcinoGeneticist: WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU DOING WHILE MR. VAGABOND WAS ASSIGNING PARTNERS?

turntechGodhead: sexting your mom

Heh. Your mom joke. You'd bet good money that you stole that joke from Terezi. Speaking of which, you've been meaning to message Terezi about hanging out. Maybe you can organize a double date with her and her partner. That'd be fun.

You glance up from your phone and notice Karkat's eyes on you. "Did you find it?"

"Find what?"

Karkat gives you a look. "The meme?"

Oh. You shake your head.

Karkat groans. "You're kidding me?? Seriously?"

"In my defense, I got distracted."

"With what?" You show him your phone, and you see his face morph from a mildly annoyed scowl to a mortified open jaw."Oh my god. Is that....?"

"Yep."

Karkat groans, covering his face. "Fucking christ, don't remind me of my middle school self."

"What, what's wrong?" You say, a sly smirk on your face. "You don't wanna read the moment that I fell heads over heels in love with you?"

"Shut the hell up, we both know that's not true. It's just that..... Gah!!!!" He waves his hands wildly. "Look at him! You're reading his words, he's such a fucking douche! He thought that he was such hot shit, and that he was so high and mighty, so above everything that he would rather sabotage his grade than work with someone he hates, he's so infuriating! I wish I could kill him."

"Aw, come on, don't be that hard on yourself. Here, look, I was a douche as well. Do you see this line right here? 'I don't want cringe people on my contacts', I was on my own high horse right alongside you."

"You were on that high horse because I was. I was a dick to you, and you were being a dick to me right back."

"A mutual dickening."

Karkat makes a face. "Don't call it that."

"Why? Is it because a mutual dickening happened between us last night?"

Karkat rolls his eyes and you start snickering to yourself. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. You know it's true."

"It's not, but whatever you say babe."

"It is, you're just biased because you're my boyfriend."

"Untrue, but it's not important."

"No it is, I'm right."

"No, it isn't."

"It is."

"No it isn't."

"Is."

"Isn't."

"Yes, it is! Here, give me that." Karkat reaches for your phone.

You move it away. "What, no, fuck off, don't touch my phone."

He stretches his arm out, fingers grazing your phone. "Screw you, I need it to prove my point."

"Just use your own." You hold it away, using the back of the sofa to support you.

"It took you 13 minutes to get there, I'm not going to do that!"

"Sucks to suck then, you're not getting my phone."

The two of you tussle for a bit, your phone waving wildly in your grasp as you wiggle your hand away from Karkat. After a minute of shuffling around, Karkat gets a solid grasp on the device and yanks it out of your hand. "Aha!"

"Give that back!"

"No, and I'm going to prove that I was a bigger dick." He starts frantically scrolling through his and yours dm, craning his body away from yours as you clammor over him to retrieve your phone. "See, look at this shit! 'Stop hanging out with Terezi, you know she's my girlfriend. Stop trying to steal her away from me, she loves me not you.' I was jealous of you and Terezi, and I wanted you to fuck off! I should've just said that instead of trying to control Terezi's friendships!"

"You're skipping over my lines! Look at that message, 'If she really was your girl why is she making all over me?'. I shouldn't have used your insecurity over your relationship to belittle you. Clearly I was the worst."

"And what about this? 'No wonder you have no friends, you're just a reject making up for your lack of social skills through acting like a Leafy reject,' ."

"Read below that. 'At least I don't have a savior complex with all of my friends and pretends that all of my quote friends unquote like each other,' . I typed out quote unquote! Who does that?"

"I called you a disappointment to your family!"

"I was homophobic to you!"

"Yeah, and look where that fucking led you!"

"The fact that I'm bisexual and that I'm dating you doesn't mean that I couldn't have been homophobic!"

"At least you have an excuse! I just didn't like you!"

"Well, you like me now, so it doesn't matter! So that means I was the worse one!"

"That's not how that works!"

"Then how does it work?!"

Karkat opens his mouth to retort, but nothing comes out. He blinks. ".... How does this work?"

"That's obvious. It works like....... It works..... It.......... Hm."

"Yeah, exactly! How the fuck are we quantifying 'being the worst in middle school'?"

"........ Being the bigger douche?"

"Dave, you can't quantify 'being a bigger douche'. What are the parameters, at what age do we stop our assessment, do we measure this based off of what we said to each other or to others, we need to go over shit like that."

"oh." You've just decided that the whole process Karkat laid out seems like way too much work for something like this. "Do we have to do it right now? I kinda don't want to do that."

"We don't have to if you don't want to, I'm just saying that if we did, we'd have to make some ground rules."

"Cool." You point to your phone. "Can I have that back now?" He hands it back. "Thank you."

"No problem." Karkat settles back onto the couch. "Now sit down, we got 27 Dresses to finish."

You nod and sit next to Karkat, assuming the position you had earlier. You glance at your phone, intending on turning it off, but something caught your eye. "Hey look, it's the meme!"

"The meme?"

"Yeah, the meme from earlier. The one about Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff that I sent you? Look at it." You hand your phone over to Karkat.

"...... This is not worth the 13 minute wait."

"Technically it was 17 minutes."

"Whatever you say, love."

#[uu] is online #ficlet #not really the stereotypical 'davekat' dynamic but i had fun writing this

[thethirteenthcrow]

lmao i love learning about your shyan lore. what fic was it 😭

god. i don't remember one (1) fic top of my head, but in the summer of 2019 i was like, my friend showed me a bfu video and i needed something to read over the summer. i had some books and i downloaded some fics on a shady non-ao3 affiliated app. i'm looking for some of them now, others may have been deleted long since. ao3 history to the rescue: here are the first shyan fics i've ever read

Tempting Fate by Squeakyshroom | 7k

AU where soulmates are real, and Ryan would rather face a demon than the truth. Or: Shane's patient, until he's not.

You'll See How Good It'll Be In The Coming Year by orphan_account | 9k

Ryan and Shane go to a New Years party for inhumans, then go home.

we found each other hungry by abovetheruins | 9k

He’d laughed with the rest of his friends when they’d seen the billboard advertising the site. They’d all been a little buzzed and high on the adrenaline of another successful semester under their belts, but he’d woken up the next morning with the site’s name poking at his subconscious, and by the end of the day he had created an account and set up a profile. It wasn’t that he was struggling, per se, but tuition was fucking expensive and he didn’t want his parents to pay for a dime, so he’d buckled down and juggled classes and two part-time jobs to pay for it all, until he’d gotten so used to nights of little to no sleep that the bags beneath his eyes were deep enough to drown in and he was spending most of his waking hours fueled by caffeine and adrenaline and little else. If he had a chance to get compensated for nothing more strenuous than spending some time with a lonely old dude, well, what kind of idiot would he be to pass that up?

The Mysterious Disappearance of Shane Madej by waitforhightide | 13k

The thing about Ryan Bergara was that he didn't trust his own brain. So when he arrived at the office and asked TJ if he’d seen Shane yet, and TJ said, “Who?” Ryan’s reaction was first to look around for cameras, and second, for Shane. For the reality check, for the affirmation that TJ had said what Ryan himself had heard.

Better Than Being Hung Up By The Thumbs by orphan_account | 3k

Shane's stance on being hung from his thumbs versus being spanked has changed somewhat.

You Make the World Seem Bigger by beethechange | 40k

The creature stirs. She squirm-drags herself down until she’s on Ryan’s belly, and then she noses at the pocket of his hoodie. Ryan gently tucks her in so only her head is visible, and they both watch as she sighs happily and burrows into the warmth. Ryan looks up at him, beaming. It is, Shane has to admit, very cute. “Ryan Bergara, Father of Goat-Dragons,” Shane says. “I can’t believe she already likes you best.” “Yeah, well,” Ryan says. “You tried to name her Snooki and turn her over to the state of California, so you reap what you sow.” OR: Ryan and Shane film a Supernatural episode in the Pine Barrens on the elusive Jersey Devil. They don’t manage to find it, but a few months after filming, one definitely finds them. And it’s decided they’d make great adoptive parents.

there were several deleted works in here ;-; but here's at least some of baby me discovering shyan haha <3 NOW TELL ME YOURS

#kamwashere #shyan #fic rec #zhalia’s lil chit chat

[lacheri]

follow me

I do not consent or allow this to be posted on Tik Tok, or any other social media

pairing: switch!Eren and switch!fem bodied reader

content: college au, OnlyFans/sex work, masturbation (m), praise kink, oral (f and m receiving), squirting, penetrative sex, drug and alcohol use, classic college party, Eren is down horrendously bad, I believe in long haired Eren supremacy, minors DNI

summary: when jean finally convinces eren to crawl out from under his rock to join society on instagram, he finds there’s a whole lot more than just pictures of food. there’s you.

wc: 15.4k (I know it’s a long one, hope you enjoy tho)

Eren Jaeger had recently found himself in a very, very deep hole. It all started innocently, when one of his best friends Jean had convinced Eren to crawl out of his hole and create an Instagram to join society.

“C’mon Eren,” Jean had teased over a week ago as they studied out on the lawn of their school. “You have no idea what you’re missing out on. No one even uses Facebook anymore, it’s all for moms who want to brag about little Timmy’s genius for figuring out one plus one equals two.”

“What do you even do on Instagram?” Eren’s brows knitted together in confusion, Jean whipping his phone out to show Eren exactly how to use it.

“You post pictures,” Jean navigated to his profile, tapping and sliding down to show Eren all of Jean’s shameless selfies.

“Of just yourself?” he breathed, not comprehending the appeal at all. Don’t people look at his face enough?

“Well, you can post anything you want, that’s the beauty of it. Plus, when you’re not doing that, you get to see and like other people’s pictures.”

“But it says here you follow, 1,536 accounts? And you have 5,000 following you back?” Eren asked incredulously, surprised about how popular his friend’s online persona was. “How do you even know that many people?”

“You don’t,” Jean shrugged, making a few taps to his home page as posts began to load up. “Celebrities have Instagram, our friends have Instagram, fuck, every attractive person on the entire planet has one.”

“How do you even find these people?” Eren’s questioning never seemed to end, the concept out of his comprehension. Facebook was one thing, he personally knew every single one of his friends and family there, and honestly he really enjoyed people just talking about their day to day ordeals.

That’s when Jean forced Eren to hand his phone over and download the app. Jean snapped a quick picture of Eren, to which Eren had no reaction time to. Before he could protest, Jean had already uploaded the candid with some random song lyrics as the caption. To be honest with himself, Eren had to admit that Jean had taken a very flattering picture. He had his knee brought to his chest while his arm dangled over, back slumped and relaxed while he sat on the blanket they had set down before lounging there, hair in his signature sloppy man bun. It was mid day, so all the shadows casted behind his body as the sun’s rays illuminated every high point and contrast of his stoic face.

After a few follow backs from his friends, Armin and Mikasa, he had accumulated a few dozen likes, and Eren couldn’t help the feelings of instant gratifications wash over him, “Okay? So, now what?”

“Now,” Jean began to instruct him, putting the phone back in Eren’s hands after showing him the basics of social media. “Go to my page, and start following whoever you want from my following list. There’s some really hot girls.”

And when Eren laid in his dorm bed that night by himself, he did just that. He really didn’t want to give Jean the satisfaction of showing him who he followed, or why he decided to. His finger scrolled and scrolled through the following list on Jean’s Instagram, hitting the follow button on a few bands he really enjoyed. But then, his hand stopped at one username in particular. The avatar showed a pretty girl, smiling brightly into the camera, sun’s golden rays blooming behind her hair.

Eren tapped on the username, and the first thing he took note of was the bio. ‘Connoisseur of mimosas and rock and roll’, he had to smirk at that, what a simple sentence to sum yourself up with. His eyes flickered to the link in her bio, titled, OnlyFans. He titled his head, Jean hadn’t mentioned what OnlyFans was? Did everyone have an OnlyFans too, like Instagram? He tapped on the highlighted link to be met with a page of prices. What the fuck was so exclusive about it that he had to pay ten dollars for a single picture? As he scrolled down a bit more, he noticed the pricing rising to the final payment cost.

“200 dollars for a personal Snapchat and to talk to me every day?” he read aloud, mouth open in disgust. “What the fuck is this?”

He hit the done option in the upper left corner, returning to the Instagram page in question. He tapped on the first photo, the girl’s back facing the camera, completely bare as her hair trickled down the center. She was sitting in a pretty pink bath, floating flowers all around, staring out a window, captioned, ‘wishing you were here’. His gaze lingered on the dips of her waist, before scrolling down to see the girl in some more clothing. This one was a much prettier picture, glasses set on the brim of her nose while she sat comfortably at a wooden table in a library. She stared directly into the camera, a pretty smile on her face while her hands sat perched under her chin. Some books were open on the table, and Eren took note of the quilted skirt peeking out from the under the bottom, her knees tightly crossed. ‘finals week is going to be the death of me, thank the universe for coffee’.

Eren back tracked out of the photo after double tapping, trying to drink in a comprehensive idea of what exactly people were paying so much money to see. He scrolled, and landed on his answer. The girl sat on a stool, phone angled in the mirror to take in her frame, wearing nothing but black lingerie and heels with a smirk on her face, the caption simply, ‘follow me on OnlyFans, link in bio’.

‘Hey Jean, what’s OnlyFans?’ Eren typed a quick text to his now mentor, patiently waiting as three bubbles appeared from his friend’s end.

‘Lol I see what you’re using Instagram for now, Jaeger’, was Jean’s only reply, and Eren could feel himself getting frustrated. Before he could type back an angry text, those bubbles popped up once again. ‘It’s basically porn, you pay for people’s pictures and videos’.

‘Why would someone want to do that? It’s free almost everywhere else’.

‘Because, young grasshopper, girls are hot and I’m trynna see some titties’.

Eren rolled his eyes at his friend’s stupidity. Deducing that Jean was obviously one of these paying customers, Eren felt a little more secure in himself as he tapped the follow button on the girl’s page. What he wasn’t expecting though was a notification informing him she had followed back, followed quickly by another one liking his only post. Eren couldn’t hold back a blush, heart thumping in his chest. Did this girl think he was good looking?

The thought didn’t sit for long as yet another notification popped up, this time a comment. The girl had simply put a heart eyed emoji, followed by a fire emoji. Eren retreated in haste back to her profile, analyzing every picture and caption.

That had been a month ago, and now Eren had a full blown addiction to the website, more specifically her Instagram. Eren was even paying for her OnlyFans now, making excuses that the money he spent would be used for coffees and lunches anyhow, and he really had to nip his caffeine addiction in the butt so he might as well spend his cash on her.

She had just posted a photoset, one of many on her page, completely naked aside from a gold necklace adorned on her neck, a simple initial of ‘E’ rested prettily on her collarbone. It was like she knew Eren was devouring her social medias on a daily basis. It was all for him, Eren had concluded. There was no coincidence that she had followed and liked his own page, it was all fate and meant to be. Eren had figured out how to DM someone, thanks to Jean showing him how to during one of their classes, and he had taken full advantage of the girl’s inbox. Unfortunately with no reply or read receipt to even prove she had received his messages, introducing himself and showering the girl with compliments. Oh, Eren was down bad. He even brought himself to pay out the $50 tier on her OnlyFans for the month, tired of entering his card information for every daily post.

His dick twitched hard as he drank in her form, curvaceous and beautiful and feminine. It wasn’t even like he just wanted to fuck her either, if he needed relief like that he’d just hit up one of the handful of girls he had saved in his contacts. Eren Jaeger wanted to take this girl out on a fucking date. They had so much in common, they were practically soulmates. She liked and followed all the same bands Eren did, posted on her stories all about her favorite foods and her zodiac sign. While he didn’t really believe in that shit, his Google search history of checking if Aries was compatible spoke to something completely different.

And then Eren began noticing something. How the library she frequently posted pictures in was the same library on campus. All the restaurants she went to were in an hour radius of him, half of them being his usual hangout spots. She lived locally, which thoroughly surprised him. Had he seen her around before? No, definitely not, he would’ve definitely remembered her pretty face. None of the girls that he knew looked like her, and if Eren didn’t know what a woman’s body felt like, he would’ve sworn her body was made of plastic.

Eren was practically an expert at Instagram now, and had plenty of opportunities to follow other beautiful women, but he chose not to. He felt guilty one night as he maneuvered through another pretty girl’s pictures, quickly retreating back to the comfort of his favorite girl’s instead. This was one of the reasons Eren had fought getting online for so long, whenever he found something he liked, he got obsessive.

His attention was drawn back to her naked photos, and he slipped his hand under the fabric of his sweatpants as he began to fuck his fist to her pretty image. All for him, he panted as he imagined what she would look like in front of him, beautiful and begging for his touch.

“Thank you so much,” you smiled graciously at the Starbucks employee in front of you, taking your large iced coffee from his hands.

“No problem, have a great day!”

You tossed your hair behind your shoulder as you turned around, the smile still vibrant on your face. Today was a good day, you decided almost as soon as you woke up. After studying for finals for nearly two weeks straight, you finally had a day off to enjoy yourself. Your best friend, Sasha, had convinced you to go on a small shopping day with her. You eagerly agreed that morning, toothbrush forgotten in between your teeth as your fingers rapidly tapped away to schedule a time. You were running out of sexy outfits for your OnlyFans content, and frankly, you really need some new summer clothes. Spring was drawing to a close, and you couldn’t just wear hoodies and leggings all year round, no matter how much you wanted to.

The mall was about two blocks away from the Starbucks, and as you chugged down your coffee, you slid your phone out of your back pocket of your jeans to see multiple notifications from Instagram. Just more people liking your posts, and some DMs, but you just rolled your eyes. You got tired of explaining on your stories that they were broken, and Instagram had no intent on trying to adjust it so you’d be able to view your messages and reply. You sighed, slipping it back into your pocket as you made your way through the entrance of the shopping mall.

Sasha was seated at a table in the cafeteria near the entrance you had just walked through. She jumped out of her seat, a wide smile on her lips as she strutted up to your form.

“You ate without me?” you pouted, smelling the leftover scent of pizza wash over you.

“Yeah, but don’t worry, I’m still hungry,” Sasha waved her hand. This girl had the fastest metabolism of a person you had ever met, so her statement didn’t really phase you.

“Okay, so, before I spend all my money and forget, we have to go to the lingerie shop,” you stated, stomping your way to the escalators.

“I’m guessing your OnlyFans is doing good?” she asked, knowing just how expensive this certain store was as she lingered behind you.

“Dude, you literally wouldn’t believe it,” you sighed dreamily. “If I had known how much money I’d be making, I would’ve done it way sooner. You should seriously consider making your own.”

“Nah, I’ll just let you have the spotlight on this one,” she snickered as the both of you stepped on the moving staircase. “Are they all creepy old men?”

“No, surprisingly, there’s a few people I have classes with that follow me,” you gossiped. “You know Jean from economics?”

Sasha nodded, eyes widening, “No fucking way, he’s my friend! I’m not that surprised though, he’s always talking to girls and asking for their Instagrams.”

“He’s never even talked to me, right? But he buys every single post I put out! Which is crazy, considering it’d just be cheaper for him to buy the subscription,” you shrugged, stepping off the escalator and walking shortly afterwards into the lingerie store. “That’s what most my viewers do, anyways.”

“Seen anyone else interesting?” Sasha hummed, eyeing the various garments surrounding her in intrigue.

Your eyes honed in on a strappy bright red one piece, “Just a few of his friends, I think. One of them is pretty cute, actually, but he’s only got one picture up.”

“You talking about Eren?”

You nodded, eyes lighting up, “Yeah, do you know him? I’ve never seen him around campus before.”

Sasha was beginning to plot, “Yeah he usually hangs out with Armin and Mikasa, but he goes to a lot of house parties. You know, actually, I think Jean is throwing one soon. He rented a cabin for after finals, you should come!”

“Won’t that be weird?” you scrunched your face, picking up the red one piece and moving onto the next garment that caught your eye. “Like I said, I’ve never even talked to him.”

“Yeah but you know Mikasa and me,” she raised her thumb towards herself. “Eren will be there too.”

“All I said was that I thought he was cute, Sasha,” you laughed her off. “But I’ll think about it. Text me the details and I’ll let you know if I’m free.”

“Something tells me Jean would be very happy to see you there,” Sasha chuckled, you giggling in response to her suggestive comment. The two of you picked through the selection of skimpy clothing, taking it up the cashier to check out.

You walked out of the store together, giggling over small banter. Your trip to the mall was quick after that, and in the end you held a grip full of medium sized paper bags, walking outside the mall with Sasha.

“Oh, hey!” Sasha suddenly quipped, placing her bags on the sidewalk, pulling her phone out of her crossbody bag. “We should take a picture!”

“Sasha I’m not even wearing lipstick,” you half heartedly complained, getting ready to pose next to your best friend.

“Literally, you’re so fucking hot,” she deadpanned, turning her head to look you directly in the eyes. “Shut up and get in, bitch.”

You threw your head back in laughter, leaning in on the left side of her frame, pushing your hair framing your face behind your ear. You smiled widely while Sasha did the same, hearing a soft click of her phone, indicating the photo was taken. Your phone vibrated in your pocket, bringing it out to see a notification stating she had posted it to her story. You’d repost it to your story later after you grabbed food, you decided, the conversation turning to the topic of where the two of you would eat before heading back to your apartment to get drunk in celebration of your semesters ending.

Eren and his two friends sat crowded in Jean’s dorm room bathroom, passing around a blunt. He could hear Connie coughing harshly as it was passed to Eren, the boy taking a deep drag of the backwoods cigarillo. Exhaling slowly, Eren brought his phone out of his hoodie pocket to open it up to change the song playing, his phone instantly opening to Instagram.

Distracted now by his favorite obsession, he glanced at the stories section, her name front in the line, glowing in that now familiar pink and purple circle. Eren couldn’t have tapped faster, and when he did, his mouth hung open.

“Yo,” Eren spoke loudly, shoving his phone in Jean and Connie’s faces. “Sasha knows this girl?”

“Yeah, they’re like best friends,” Connie quirked an eyebrow. “You don’t know her?”

“No, I just saw we had mutual friends,” Eren’s eyebrows knitted together. “How come we’ve never hung out with her before?”

“I don’t know actually,” Jean said, exhaling the blunt after it was passed to him from Eren’s fingertips. “I had a class with her this semester, she seems nice.”

“You’re only saying that because she’s hot,” Connie chuckled. “I bet you’ve never even talked to the girl.”

Jean’s face ignited in a fierce blush as he found interest in the ceiling tiles, “Shut up. It’s harder to talk to girls than it looks. You should know that, Connie.”

“Hey! I talk to girls!” Connie leaned up from his seated position on the floor.

“Idiots,” Eren sighed, rolling his eyes. “Neither of you have any game.”

“Not all of us are as gifted as you are, Eren,” Connie protested, a smirk spreading across his lips. “You could talk to a fucking mouse and it’d figure out someway to talk back.”

Eren rolled his eyes again, harder this time, “You just talk to girls like they’re human beings, it’s not that fucking hard.”

“Oh yeah? Betcha’ won’t be saying that whenever you see that girl around,” Jean teased, finally passing the blunt to Connie in the rotation, Connie muttering something about hogging it.

Eren shifted uncomfortably on the closed toilet seat, “Whatever, Jean.”

“Speak of the fucking devil!” Jean shouted, scaring the very high pair of boys at the suddenness. “Sasha just texted me asking if she can bring her this weekend to the cabin!”

Eren’s heart erupted into a flutter of uneven beats, his face heating up. This girl he had been drooling over was going to be at a party, with him? He suddenly felt like a teenager, the idea of seeing his precious addiction face to face giving him full blown anxiety.

Soft thuds of the bass of the stereo filled the room, catchy pop music drawing Eren out of his stupor to gaze hastily around the room, searching.

“What’s up with you tonight?” Armin had asked him, drawing his attention away once again. “It’s been an hour since the party started and you’ve barely drunk anything.”

Taking note of the full red solo cup in his hand, flickering his gaze between the liquid and his best friend, Eren shrugged and tipped the rim back in his lips, opening his throat and taking large gulps until the cup was empty. “Happy?”

Armin laughed loudly, although only having two strong drinks, his best friend was beginning to feel the numbness of intoxication, “You’re really out of it tonight, everything alright?”

“Yeah I’m fine, just waiting for the smoke sesh so I’m not cross faded,” Eren smirked, lying easily. “Last time I got too drunk and decided to rip Jean’s bong, I woke up in some random front yard with one shoe on.”

Armin shook his head in disbelief, “You really need to start making better life choices, Eren.”

Eren shook the empty solo cup in front of his friend, “I’m trying here.”

Truthfully, the reason Eren wasn’t halfway to getting shit faced was because he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of the girl of his dreams. She still hadn’t shown up yet, and Eren was getting anxious that she wasn’t going to show. Sasha and Mikasa hadn’t shown up yet either, which gave him a resemblance of hope that the three of you were together, and on your way currently to the party. His heart thudded heavily in his ribcage as he heard the jingle of the front door turn, and his attention was fully concentrated on the door frame ahead of him. His jaw dropped at the sight, his breath caught in his throat.

You asked Sasha earlier that day what you should wear to the party, and Sasha had just waved and told you whatever you felt looked the best. Not exactly helpful, you had just decided on black ripped jeans and a low cut shirt, paired with your favorite leather jacket and trusty Vans. You felt incredibly undressed as Sasha drove to Mikasa’s house, watching her modelesque frame saunter out her front door towards the back car doors.

“Mikasa, you could make a paper bag look hot,” you showered her with appreciation, her face blushing in response as she tugged her long sleeved body con dress towards her knees. “Fuck, should I have worn a dress? How nice is everyone else dressed?”

Sasha couldn’t have given two fucks about how she dressed in front of her friends, adorned in blue skinny jeans and a causal crop top, although her face was beat to the Gods, “Shut the fuck up, you’re one to talk about making paper bags look good. Besides, knowing the boys they probably made minimal effort, probably all wearing sweatpants.”

The three of you snickered at this, and Sasha pushed the car into drive and set out on your 45 minute journey into the mountains. Nerves hadn’t set in until you were face to face with the cabin door, nervous that the girls’ friends weren’t going to like you. Putting a brave face on, Mikasa grasped the door knob and pushed it open, the three of you gliding in.

Eren honestly had wanted to drop down to his knees and kiss the ground you walked on. You were the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Your eyes were searching, for what neither of you knew, until your eyes had finally landed on him. You smiled politely, moving your hand up in a quick wave to both him and Armin.

Eren couldn’t fathom moving any single part of his body, so awestruck by you. Jean shook Eren out of his dumbstricken state with a hard pat to his shoulder, “Why don’t you go introduce yourself, Eren?”

“Fuck off, horse face,” Eren spat, trying to will himself to either make strides towards you or to break his gaze, neither working. “Why don’t you?”

“I’d love to,” he smiled wickedly, inspired by liquid courage to lock arms with Eren and force him closer to the trio of girls that had finally made their appearance. Armin followed behind, Connie emerging out of the bathroom to give his hello’s to his best friend Sasha and company.

Eren could hear his heart beat in his ears as he stopped right in front of you, forcing his mouth closed in a tight lipped grimace. He felt like a fucking teenager with a crush.

“Hi,” you introduced yourself, smiling widely. “It’s so nice to finally meet you guys!”

“Nice to meet you too!” Armin spoke up, oblivious to his friends’ reaction to the fresh pretty face of yours.

Jean and Connie wouldn’t admit it, but they were feeling their own nervousness. Jean’s out of guilt as he scanned your body top to bottom, Connie’s natural shyness kicking in due to the newcomer. Both were able to overcome it though, and offer up their own introductions. Your eyes landed on Eren once again, tilting your head, waiting for his intro.

“I’m Eren,” he swallowed. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” you looked down, smiling softly. You raised your hand then, looking up at the boys in front of you, revealing a handle of vodka. “I brought a gift with me too!”

“My kinda girl!” Jean spoke just a bit too enthusiastically. “Shots, shots, shots!”

Connie pumped his fist, chiming in, the rest of the party joining as well as the crowd made their way into the kitchen. Eren purposely hung back, trying to keep as close to you as possible.

“You happen to bring any chasers with you?” he had leaned in, tickling the side of your head with his breath.

“No, I totally forgot,” you sheepishly admitted.

“Looks like we’re all gonna get plastered then,” he chuckled smoothly, sending goosebumps down your body.

“Is it really a party then if at least one person doesn’t have their head in a toilet?” you had easily quipped back, feeling more comfortable now that the introductions were out of the way.

Eren hummed in half hearted agreement, feeling slightly more relaxed himself. Besides, his attention was being grasped by the plastic shot glass being shoved in his hand, as well as your dainty one. The group held up the shot glasses, a few phone cameras capturing the moment to post on their stories, and you all swung your heads back to allow the bitter liquid to trickle down your throats. Eren made a mild face, taking a stolen glance at your own to see your grimace, sticking your tongue out in disbelief at the taste.

Another hour had passed by, and Eren was running out of reasons to follow you around the cabin as you shifted between conversations to get to know the group of friends better. You hadn’t really noticed him trailing behind you, nor did you really care because you were very quickly warming up to Eren. It also didn’t hurt that he looked exceptionally better in person. His hair was lazily swung into a half top bun, wearing a couple of gold chains with his white tee tightly hugging his torso, tucked seamlessly into black ripped jeans displaying his muscular knee caps. Eren was definitely a looker, you shifted your gaze up to his face as he made some witty comment to Sasha, his eyes flickering to your face to catch your reaction.

“Oh my god, there was this one time,” Sasha spoke your name. “She had gotten so high during last year’s spring break, and the two of us and Mikasa came up with the brilliant idea of becoming one with nature. So, naturally, we ran to Walmart and bought this tent on clearance. Turns out it was made for kids, so none of us actually fit inside when we got back to Mikasa’s house. Mikasa and I curled up in a ball, surrounded by snacks, and this smart girl over here decided it was the best choice to just lay out on the lawn and pass out.”

“I wanted to watch the sun rise!” you laughed, trying to quickly explain yourself to Eren’s amused smirk. “And the grass was just so nice that night!”

“The grass was basically straw,” Sasha countered teasingly. “Twenty degrees outside, absolutely freezing. She was MIA for like a week afterwards with a cold.”

You shrugged carelessly, “Worth it.”

Now the two of you had sleeping on lawns in common? Eren scoffed inwardly. Yup, it was official, you were his soulmate. Still though, the topic of why you were so casual in person while your naked pictures existed online tickled his thoughts. He was hoping that somehow it’d get brought up naturally in conversation, saving himself the embarrassment if you were to get offended by his questioning. So far it seemed you liked him, not having said a word about him trailing after you like a lost puppy. Jean had been sending him knowing looks all night, Connie shooting two thumbs up at Eren while Armin looked on in confusion.

Mikasa had strolled out of the bathroom finally, joining the trio who stood casually in the living room, simply stating, “I’m starving. You guys think they deliver pizza out here?”

Sasha’s eyes widened in excitement, “I don’t care if it takes an hour to get here. We’re ordering right now.”

Already ahead of the two, your phone was pulled out in your hands to open up the Dominoes app, punching in the location of the party and placing the order online. Eren watched this all, peering over your hands to see the total.

“Guys, we should chip in,” Eren called out, grabbing the boys’ attention. “We’re ordering pizza.”

“No, no!” you protested, confirming the order. “It’s really fine, my treat.”

“But that’s really expensive,” he frowned, the group all joined together in the living room.

“Don’t worry, she’s got that OnlyFans money,” Sasha waved off Eren’s concern.

“OnlyFans?” Armin questioned, darting his eyes in between Sasha and you. “What’s that?”

Jean hid his blushing cheeks and your eyes flickered to him, then back to Armin, “I sell naked pictures online.”

“So what, a bunch of old guys give you money?” Armin had asked innocently, not judgemental in the slightest.

You giggled, relieved he wasn’t asking in a demeaning manner, “Actually, you’d be really surprised about who you know follows me. There’s a lot of people from school.”

Eren’s blood ran cold as he felt a sudden onset of embarrassment. Did that mean you had known this entire time Eren was one of these followers? If you did, you didn’t let on to it, smiling shyly as the questions ended. Eren hadn’t been done with the conversation, but pride from exposing himself in front of his friends kept his mouth shut.

It was around one in the morning when the party was at its peak. Sasha was being held up by her legs by Connie as she did a keg stand, you and the group cheering the girl on in your own drunken hazes. She tapped the large can, indicating she was finished, Connie settling her down on solid ground as she belched loudly.

“That was fucking awesome, Sasha!” you giggled, throwing your arms up and around her. You were definitely feeling the shots you had been feeding yourself all night, holding your red solo cup high above the girl so it wouldn’t slosh on her.

“You should totally try it!” she encouraged devilishly.

You pouted then, taking a moment to consider, “I’ve never done a keg stand before, what if I can’t do it?”

“I’ll help you!” Eren all but pounced on the opportunity, your smile turning into a tipsy giggle. “It’s not that hard, you just keep chugging until you can’t anymore. I’ll hold you, you got this.”

You lightly blushed, nodding your head at the encouragement, bringing a fist to your chest as a salute, “I’ll do it! We gotta’ put on a cool song though, if I’m going to fail miserably I might as well have a good song to do it to.”

Mikasa volunteered, as she was already DJ, having the best music taste out of everyone in the group. She dug her phone out of her pocket, switching over to a ‘Pursuit of Happiness’ remix. Connie whooped at the choice, and everyone began to chant your name as you hovered by the keg, very nervous. Eren then placed his large hand on the small of your back, leaning in to reassure you once again. You gulped, nodding that you were ready to get into position.

“Okay, so you’re going to lean your arms on the top of the can, and I’ll grab your legs. Like when you were a kid and you’d do that stupid wheelbarrel thing,” Eren easily explained, chuckling lightly. “Use your hands to let me know when you’re done.”

You did as you were told, resting your upper body against the keg as Eren hooked his arms around your calves. He couldn’t help but admire how strong your legs felt in his grasp, and how right it felt to finally have some bodily contact. He had been trying to figure out a natural way all night, and he was bubbling over in excitement, the chance had arisen, glorious in the promise of touch.

You placed your lips hesitantly around the tap, opening it up into your mouth, and began to chug. ‘Chug, chug, chug!’ was chanted all around you, even Mikasa joining in on the fun. Fists bumped in the air, and you felt like the coolest fucking person in the world. Doing a keg stand wasn’t exactly in your goals list, but fuck did it feel like it should’ve been as your ego inflated.

“That’s it, you’re doing great!” Eren’s thumbs brushed the inside of your knees, leaning in to whisper. “Good girl.”

You sputtered around the tap, choking harshly. You removed your mouth quickly to gasp for air, and the tap shot up all over your shirt, jacket long forgotten resting on the sofa in the living room. Eren moved your legs down to the floor quickly seeing this, and wrapped his arm around your waist to steady you as your arm shot out to grab onto something, in this case his other arm.

“You alright?” Jean asked, a look of concern washing over his features as you finally got some air into your lungs.

“Yeah,” you coughed again, blushing in embarrassment. “I definitely made a mess though.”

“I brought some extra clothes with me,” Eren offered quickly. “One of these idiots always manages to somehow spill something within the first hour of drinking. I’ll show you where my bag is at.”

You smiled in appreciation, biting your tongue to accuse him of purposely throwing you off your game with his little praise that had your knees buckling. He unwound his arm, taking your hand and leading you to the staircase by the entryway, your smaller form following behind him as he thudded up the stairs. Three doors greeted you at the top, and he led you into the master bedroom, plainly decorated and lacking personal belongings. You watched as he chucked a duffle bag onto the mattress, unzipping it and going through his clothes. He found a sweatshirt, smirking inwardly as it had been one of his old sports ones with his last name embroidered on the back. Proud he could provide a claim to you, he extended it to you, and you gladly accepted it.

“Well, you did really well in the beginning there,” he chuckled, whisking his stray baby hairs behind his ear. “Sucks about the shirt though. The first time I tried to do a keg stand, I barfed everywhere.”

You laughed lightly, fingering the hem of your shirt, “I guess it could’ve been a lot worse. Still, at least I can check this off my bucket list.”

Eren’s eyebrows shot into his hairline as you lifted your shirt to reveal your bare stomach, and he whisked his body completely around so you didn’t see his reddened cheeks, “You could’ve asked me to leave.”

Behind him, you let a mischievous smirk cross your lips, “Nothing you haven’t seen before.”

Eren’s mouth fell open at your bold statement, letting his words leave before he could stop them, “You know?”

“Of course,” you discarded the sodden shirt to the floor, sitting on the bed instead of tossing the sweatshirt on. “You’re my favorite viewer.”

He caught your movement in the corner of his eye, and he turned his head to take in the sight. Fuck, you were even more beautiful in person. Your bra was white and pretty and dainty, pushing your tits together, accentuating cleavage that Eren wanted to bury his face in. His gaze moved up to your face, smiling so innocently at him as he let out a dark chuckle, “Is that so?”

You hummed, leaning back to expose your form a bit more, feeling confident from the alcohol, “You like every one of my pictures, you buy all my content, you’re pretty cute, of course you’re my favorite.”

Eren’s ego soared as he turned his body completely towards you, taking a small step forward, “You’re just so beautiful, how could I not? I do have to ask this though, how come you never answered any of my messages?”

“Oh, my DMs are broken. Instagram doesn’t let me view them or respond,” you explained easily. “You know, you could’ve hit me up on OnlyFans, I definitely would have answered you.”

A blush crept up on Eren again as he averted his gaze to the floor, “I didn’t think about that.”

You giggled softly, “What’d you send me anyways?”

“I asked you out on a date,” he admitted, growing more nervous. “Told you that you were really pretty. Y’know, stuff you probably get all the time.”

“Most of my messages are from guys trying to take me out drinking and to get a quick fuck,” you scoffed. “Y’know, if the offer is still on the table, I’d really like to take you up on it.”

“Really?” Eren’s eyes met yours in surprise, you watched his Adam’s apple bob along his throat as he gulped. “You’d want to go out with me?”

“Yeah, who else is going to hold me up when I try to do a keg stand again?” you smiled sheepishly, batting your eyelashes. Eren’s hands twitched at his sides, fuck, you were so pretty.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked seriously, his gaze hardening as he felt a wave of possessiveness. In his mind, you were already his girlfriend. You had accepted his date, and he’d be damned if he didn’t try to push his luck further.

Eren had never felt the way he feels right now. He took immediate notice of your blushing cheeks, your confident lean turn into a shy arch as you pushed your body into a hunched over seating position. Eren had experience with girls, that everyone knew as a fact, he was very far from being a virgin. You made him feel like a fucking virgin, heart beating wildly in his chest. All he wanted to do was to grab you and hide you away for his own greedy pleasure, the darkest parts of his mind tickled by the thought. He had laid a claim to you way before he had ever met you, and he wouldn’t let you escape now that he had you here, alone.

You didn’t answer his request, you pushed yourself off the mattress and met his staggering stance halfway. Unknown to his wicked thoughts, his past month of obsessing of you, you leaned up, gently brushing your lips against his. No one had ever asked you this simple question before, instead just taking the action as if they had owned you, and you thought to yourself that you could really love this boy who presented himself so innocently to you.

The soft placement of your lips to his was not enough, and Eren buried his mouth with your own, moving both of his hands to cup your face. He could feel your jaw beneath the pads of his fingertips as you attempted to meet his pace, sensual and passionate. The need for air forgotten for the both of you, sucking in deeply through your noses as the space continued to close between your bodies.

“Gonna take you someplace real nice,” muttered Eren as he pulled away slightly to gaze his half lidded eyes on your fluttering eyelashes, your gaze now hidden from him. “I know you like that one place in the city, I saw your little post of you wearing that tight dress. You looked so fucking pretty.”

Tingles shivered up your bones, a sharp intake of breath as you fluttered your eyes open to take in his deep lustful expression, “I’ll wear it for you, if you want.”

“Wear my necklace too.”

You pulled away completely this time, baffled, “Your necklace?”

“The one with the ‘E’ on it,” he breathed, moving forward to accommodate the sudden distance, his lips meeting the corner of your mouth. You realized then what he was referring to, a small smirk uplifting his kiss. You wouldn’t tell him though that the necklace in question was just some random trinket with no meaning you had purchased, or that you hadn’t even recognized the pretty cursive as a letter. You figured out very quickly Eren’s little crush was a bit more involved than just him attached to your hip at this party. No, it was way deeper than that. All of the likes, the money, the new information of messages made sense to you. Eren had believed you were his, and he had sought out confirmation all night to prove it.

“Okay,” you played along to his fantasy, an expert since it was your job online already to provide this to your viewers. “What else do you want me to wear?”

“There’s this one set of lingerie,” Eren was the one to pull back now, letting his teal eyes trail downwards to your chest, displeased by the lack of skin shown to him in that instance. “The black lacy one, fuck, wear that. You look so fucking sexy in that.”

“You don’t like when I wear white?” you pouted, bringing your hands to rest against the peak of your breasts, framing them like a picture.

“I like anything you wear,” a smirk crossed his features, eyes locked in on your tits. “Or what you don’t wear.”

You were met with two choices then. One, kiss Eren and get dressed and save yourself for your date, or two, fulfill his now present fantasy of his that was beginning to morph into your own. You mentally battled the decision in your mind, feeling the desire curl in your stomach at each option. If you were to give in now, Eren might not want to continue to chase after you, the promise of an actual date forgotten. Not to mention the party of people down stairs, the thud of music softened behind the closed door of the bedroom indicating it was still in full swing. Eren saw your hesitation, and let his hands travel to your elbows comfortingly.

“I know we technically just met,” he started, eyes now locked in on yours in genuine honesty. “But I really like you. You’re all I’ve thought about for the past month, so if you don’t feel comfortable going any further, that’s okay, I’ll wait. I’ve waited this long.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” you bit your lip as you watched his teal orbs flicker to your mouth. “It’s just — oh God, this is embarrassing to talk about so soon.”

“Shh, it’s okay, I won’t judge,” he cooed, bringing just a hand up to soothe over your cheek.

“I’m not exactly quiet,” you admitted, gesturing towards the floor. “I don’t really want to be the girl who fucks someone at the first party they show up to.”

Eren hadn’t predicted you to be loud in his fantasies, but he was really wishing he had. He held back a groan at your confession, images of what could be filling his dirty mind, “Fuck, okay, no problem. I don’t have any condoms with me anyways.”

“Actually,” you drawled. “I’m on the pill, so as far as that goes, that doesn’t really matter. I’m clean too, I haven’t been with anyone in a long time.”

Boxes were being ticked quickly off of Eren’s checklist, and he let his jaw hang open, “I’m clean too, I don’t fuck anyone without a condom, to be honest.”

I’m going to fuck her raw, is all that was going through his mind. Treat her so good, take her out wearing her pretty little dress and treat her like a fucking princess.

“Please tell me you’re free tomorrow,” Eren pleaded. “I’ll take us fucking anywhere you want.”

“I am, actually,” you batted your eyelashes.

“Cool,” he muttered, beginning to feel drawn into your lips again. As you began to lean back in, a sharp knock sounded at the door.

“Hey! Everything alright?” you both froze, recognizing the voice as Armin’s. Of course he’d be the only one to dare interrupt, and the party below had discouraged him. Eren had taken you upstairs, and while they were all aware of the possibility of the two of you would be hooking up, Armin was more concerned that one or both of you had gotten sick and were in need of help.

“Yeah, we’re fine! Be out in a second!” Eren shouted, feeling suddenly frazzled from the intense interaction between you two. If Armin had opened the door, seeing the two of you locked in together so closely, making out feverishly, it would be completely mortifying. Especially since it wouldn’t be the first time Armin had accidentally seen his best friend in a suggestive situation.

You pecked his lips quickly then, breaking out of his embrace to throw his sweatshirt over your head. Eren was counting backwards in his head to rid himself of the half erection in his pants, nearly impossible as he thought about how pretty you looked in his clothing.

“C’mon,” you tugged at his hand, urging him to follow you back downstairs. “We have a pizza to eat and friends to convince that we definitely didn’t just fuck for ten minutes.”

The group hadn’t made a single comment when you two rejoined the party, only just knowing smirks from Jean and Connie to Eren. Sasha had wiggled her eyebrows at you, and you quickly pulled her and Mikasa into the bathroom to recap what had just occurred upstairs. The girls clapped drunkenly at your news of a date, incredibly excited that their best friend was finally going out with a boy. The night had ended around three in the morning, bodies scattered throughout the house to pass out wherever they pleased. Eren had continued to stay by you the rest of the night, this time, not shy at all as he stole touches to your back. And when it came time to pass out, you felt smugness as he rested his head on your back while you laid on your side on the same bed upstairs, his arm thrown tightly around your waist. Sasha curled up in front of you, your own head snuggling into her shoulder as the room spun you into a deep slumber.

You sat at a vanity in your apartment bedroom the next evening, applying various makeups to your face. Mikasa had awoken you and Sasha pretty early the next morning, wanting to go home so she could get ready for her job. Eren snored quietly behind you as you tried your best to maneuver out of his grasp, and the three of you cleaned up the cups and plates scattered around the house as a thank you to Jean for the invitation. Sasha had driven you all the way back to your place when you realized you were still wearing Eren’s hoodie, and you smirked. Now he definitely had a reason to get you on this date tonight, you had something that belonged to him.

When Eren had woken up, he truly believed for a few minutes that you had just been a dream. Pictures and videos posted all over Instagram had shown him differently though, the two of you leaning against each other on the leather couch smiling drunkenly on Armin’s story had his heart pounding. His arm was around your shoulders, your head was tilted in the crook of his neck, and then Eren remembered that he was going to see you again tonight. He took a screenshot before the story moved on to a video of the group in a heated discussion about music tastes, a quiet chuckle made its way out of his throat as he recounted memories that would become very fond to him.

He had posted the picture then to his Instagram, a few others followed after that included him and his other friends. Eren tagged all of the people, but most importantly, the picture of the two of you was the first in the line up of the photo set. A few messages hit his inbox after he hit the post button, some classmates asking if you were his girlfriend, because you were wearing his sweatshirt in the photo. He decided to not respond, because as much as he wanted to tell them yes, he knew he’d be jumping the gun. His heart raced as a notification popped up — you had liked the picture, and added a comment, ‘last night was a movie’ with a kiss emoji. When he refreshed the page, your lit up story showed him that you had even reposted his photo set. His ego soared, his affections no longer one sided, and he couldn’t fucking wait to take you out later and show you the best time he could.

Eren had gotten your phone number from Sasha not long before your date, asking for your address and trying to pick out a time to head out to dinner. You tapped a response quickly, and looked at the clock to gauge how much time you’d need to be fully ready. That had been about three hours ago, your body had been scrubbed and shaved, hair curled prettily down your back as you added the final touches of lipstick to your lips. The dress Eren had talked about was laid out on your perfectly made bed, a pretty satin champagne colored fabric, and your apartment was fairly clean, fully expecting his company after the date of all went well. You dressed yourself easily, slipping on black heels when you heard the chime of your phone, letting you know Eren was awaiting you outside.

When the elevator doors chimed open as you walked into your lobby, you saw from the entrance doors Eren leaned back casually against the Uber he had offered to pay for. His attention immediately focused on your form as you exited your building, his gaze flickered all over your body.

“You look incredible,” Eren easily complimented, pushing himself up to stand straight. He leaned in to kiss your blushing cheek as you muttered a quiet ‘thank you’, and he pulled the door handle of the sleek black car, ushering you inside. He slammed it closed after you had positioned yourself comfortably, giving the driver a soft greeting as Eren circled around the back, getting in on the opposite side. The directions were already plugged into the driver’s GPS, and it took less than twenty minutes to get to the restaurant in question.

This gave you enough time to take in Eren’s appearance, and damn if you wouldn’t have allowed yourself to do so, the sight practically mouth watering. His hair hung low in a messy bun, a few complementary strands hanging out to frame his sharp jawline. His torso was adorned in a sheer white long sleeve button up, a small portion of his chest revealed as he had left the top buttons alone, chains hanging against his collarbones, silver in color this time. Black slacks that tightened around his thighs and calves had you biting your lip in appreciation, his legs spread as he took up space in the backseat.

“Staring isn’t very polite,” he had leaned in, taking notice of your devouring gaze.

“Stop dressing like a whore and maybe I won’t stare,” you teased back, chuckling quietly when he swatted your exposed thigh lightly. He kept his hand there for the rest of the drive, enjoying the comfortable silence as the quiet hum of the radio filled in the gaps.

When the Uber had slowed to a stop outside of the fancy restaurant Eren had insisted taking you to, he swung the door open before you had a chance to reach for the handle on your side. He raced to the other side of the car, pulling open the door and extending his hand out for you to grasp onto. You circled your fingers around his palm, and he tightened his grasp as you swung your legs over the flooring, and stood before him. The two of you thanked the driver, and he sped away shortly after. Hand still locked in with yours, Eren led the way inside the opened doors of the restaurant. Inside, a hostess wearing a very classy black uniform greeted the two of you.

“Reservation for Eren,” he spoke smoothly, and your eyes widened in surprise, expecting to have sat and waited for at least a half an hour before you had been seated.

“Right this way,” she smiled politely, two menus in her hands as she welcomed you into the dining area. You followed behind Eren, realizing that this place must’ve been a lot more expensive than you originally had gauged. All the guests appeared in their very best formal attire, and the chatter was soft as the beautiful notes of a piano resounded throughout the space. While you couldn’t pinpoint exactly where the music was coming from, you had a strong feeling that there was a physical player somewhere in the midst, it sounded so clear and professional. When the hostess had sat you down in a booth secluded against the furthest set wall, she smiled politely once more and informed you that the waiter would be with you soon.

“Eren,” you hissed as you sat opposite of his smirking form. “This place is stupid fancy!”

“Don’t worry about it,” he waved easily. “I got it, I promise.”

“How are you able to afford this? I’ve got a little bit of money and even I couldn’t go some place this nice,” you questioned, feeling a small pang of guilt. He was going to go broke trying to treat you to a very nice, albeit expensive, meal.

“My dad is a doctor,” he shrugged, picking up the menu and eyeing over their drink selection. “He sends me money whenever I come around and help around his office.”

“Following in the family footsteps?” you tried at the conversation, realizing you virtually knew nothing about the boy in front of you.

“Nah, I’m more into the business side of things,” he smiled up at you then, showing off his pearly white teeth. “What about you? What are you majoring in?”

You spoke of your major, Eren carefully listening in of your passions and your goals for your future ahead. He was pleased to hear that you were ambitious, smiling as he was enamored by your speech. Not that he minded a single bit about your online job, but to hear that you had a legitimate career goal soothed his worries.

A finely dressed waiter greeted you shortly, introducing himself and taking the both of your orders in one go, and stole away the menus. The rest of the date flew by quickly, tipsy from your cocktails and full of giggles as the two of you got to know one another. Although Eren was already knowledgeable about a number of your likes and dislikes and personality quirks due to Instagram, you had the undisguisable pleasure of learning his right then and there.

“So,” you leaned your elbows onto the table, resting your chin atop of your closed fists. “Tell me, how many girls have you taken here before?”

“Not a single one,” he chuckled lowly, passing the black booklet encasing his credit card as the waiter stopped at the table. “This is actually my first time taking anyone out somewhere so fancy. Usually I just hang out at the more lowkey spots around campus.”

“I would’ve been totally okay with going somewhere like that instead,” you frowned, that same guilt flooding back to your stomach. Eren hadn’t even let you see the bill before he had given it away, so you were completely ignorant as far as how far the total rang up. “You really didn’t have to take me out to such an expensive place.”

He rolled his eyes playfully, smirking as he did so, “Had to take my favorite girl somewhere nice, show you off in that gorgeous dress of yours.”

You blushed, moving your fists to hold your cheeks to try and contain the heat, “Fine, but next time, I want to see one of these ‘lowkey spots’.”

“Next time, huh?” Eren mused cockily.

“Yes, I guess I had a really great time tonight, consider yourself honored,” you giggled half heartedly.

“Oh believe me, I do.”

Eren had walked you to the front door of your apartment like the gentleman he was. Really, he was just trying to procrastinate leaving you, not wanting the night to be over with quite yet. Luckily, you were on the exact same page as he stood awkwardly behind you while you unlocked your front door.

You turned, an eyebrow raised, “Well? Are you coming in or what?”

“Say less,” he sighed in relief, following your sauntering frame inside your apartment. He was initially impressed as you flicked the light switch on the wall up, illuminating your precious space. Very clean and organized, he felt a pang of jealousy, knowing his own dorm room was scattered with clothes and empty water bottles. If he had only seen what your living space looked like before you had straightened up, he might have felt better about himself.

“I have some róse in the fridge,” you offered, making your way to the kitchen. “Would you like a glass?”

“No lie, that’s literally my favorite wine,” Eren groaned. “How are you this perfect?”

You laughed loudly, grabbing two wine glasses from your cabinet, opening your fridge and retrieving the bottle. Filling the glasses generously, you left the bottle on your kitchen counter and turned around, Eren a lot closer than where you had left him a moment ago. You extended his cup, which he graciously took and sipped. You mirrored him, gulping down your own mouthful.

“Y’know,” he started, gazing around your kitchen space. “For all that talk of mimosas in your Instagram bio, I really expected there to be a lot more pictures of you drinking them.”

You chuckled once again, “Believe me, I have plenty of orange juice, vodka, and champagne here. We had such a classy dinner, I thought I’d try and match it with some wine. Besides, vodka brings out the worst in me.”

“Ah, lady in the streets, freak in the sheets,” he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. You rolled your eyes, swatting his bicep harmlessly. “I get what you’re about at brunch with the girls.”

“If I had a nickel for every time Mikasa had to peel me and Sasha off the pavement after mimosas and scones, I’d be fucking rich,” you giggled once again, raising the glass to your lips.

“I’m really surprised we hadn’t met each other before last night, especially because Mikasa and I have been best friends since we were little,” Eren raised an eyebrow. “She’s basically my sister, and never once did she say anything about you, I only met Sasha because Connie’s attached to her hip and they share the same brain cell.”

“If it makes you feel better, I only knew Jean existed because we had a class together this semester,” you shrugged, purposefully leaving out the part where he consumed your content almost as much as Eren did.

“And of course me,” Eren smirked cheekily. “Because I’m your favorite viewer, like you said.”

“Don’t make me regret telling you that,” you pointed your glass towards him in a fake threat.

“It’s okay, you’re my favorite girl, so it evens itself out,” Eren placed his half drunk glass on the counter top, his gaze much more seductive. “Besides, you wore my necklace like I asked, I gotta tease you a little bit.”

“I wore pretty much everything you wanted me to,” you smirked, copying his actions and settling your own cup down.

“Did you now?” he took long strides to stand in front of you, toying with the necklace that he had laid claim over.

“I can show you, if you want to see,” you leaned up with full intentions of capturing his kiss.

“There’s nothing else I would rather do, pretty girl,” Eren cooed, licking his lips before meeting you in the middle. His arms circled around your waist, your hands wrapped around his shoulders as the pace started out slowly. Gentle was not what either of you wanted though, the desperation seeping in fast as his fingers explored your sides.

“Bedroom,” you gasped as he removed his lips and attached them to your jaw. He had no qualms of fucking you right out here in the kitchen, so he made no effort to move. Realizing you had to take the reins, you moved backwards from Eren, smirking as he groaned from the sudden distance. His eyes followed you predatorily as he began to chase after you, your back meeting the wooden paneling of your bedroom door. He attempted to recapture your mouth, but your hand was faster in turning the door knob, and you began to lead him back until your mattress met the backs of your knees.

“Want you to show me what you’re wearing under that dress,” Eren demanded, playing with the short hem that rested on your thighs.

You nodded, giving him the silent okay to take off the fabric encompassing your frame. You turned so your back faced him, moving your hair out of the way so he could unzip the back. His eyes followed as he fingered the silver zipper, agonizingly teasing himself as more and more was revealed to him. Seeing the straps of the black lace he had requested drunkenly the night before, his patience snapped as he pulled the metal piece down faster. You slid the tiny straps off your shoulders at the sweet feeling of release, and Eren’s dick was rock fucking solid as it pooled around your feet, you kicked the silky fabric to the side and faced him once more.

“You’re wearing everything I told you to,” he stated, drinking in the sight of your scantily clad body. “Good girl.”

You bit back an embarrassing moan at his praise, feeling the heat pool between your thighs. It came as such a shock to you to be so reactive to his words, and it came slamming into you that maybe you weren’t as vanilla as you had previously believed. You had a kink! It all made so much sense, why you felt such pride and arousal from complete strangers giving you their attention and compliments online. You yearned for it, craved the affections, and now that Eren stood in front of you, more than willing to shower you with pretty words, all the moisture in your mouth dried up. You wanted him so fucking bad.

Eren’s hands met the naked skin of your waist as his palms etched over your soft stomach. They met in the middle of your back, leaning your back onto the mattress as he climbed on top of you, a single hand coming up to work on discarding his button up. You rushed to help, pads of your fingers working the buttons open until he revealed his bare chest, his chains hanging above you. He worked his arms out quickly, tossing the fabric onto the floor. He brought his lips to yours, this kiss much more desperate and needy than the previous ones. His hands explored every inch of your body, the tops of your thighs to the swell of your breasts. He tugged on the soft lace at the top, slowly bringing the black fabric down to expose the complete fullness of your breasts. A sight familiar yet somehow new made Eren groan, the pads of his thumbs brushing against your pretty nipples, instantly hardening them.

You moaned lightly, throwing your head back and arching your back into his touch. How many times had Eren pictured you just like this?

“I fucked my fist so many fucking times thinking about you,” he confessed as he pressed slow open mouthed kisses to your collarbone. “You have no idea what your pictures did to me, no idea what you’re doing to me right now.”

He leaned his bottom half forward, pressing his thick clothed erection into the meat of your thigh. You let out a whimper, head foggy as his words made your pussy clench around nothing.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he licked a stripe up your neck, leaving a wet saliva trail as he wrapped his lips around where he could feel your pulse the strongest. “My pretty girl.”

While Eren wanted to talk about what you did to him, all you could think about was what he was doing to you. The want and need that coursed through your veins was like a drug, you could feel him worming his way into your bloodstream, straight to the center of your heart and out to the warmest parts of your body. And you felt like an addict in that moment too, and every moment you would spend with Eren there after. You could feel his kisses as if he was underneath your skin, his entire body pressed against yours. So, so close, yet not close enough.

“Take off your pants,” you demanded shakily, placing your hands at the button of his slacks. He seemed to be on the same page of you yet again, and he followed his instructions without delay. He kicked out of the tight pants with ease, and you were more than pleased to see he had rid himself of his boxers too when you heard the thick slap of his cock meeting his stomach.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, eyes widened. “Eren, that’s not going to fit.”

“Don’t worry,” he soothed your hair back from your face, pressing a sweet kiss to the tip of your nose. “I’ll make sure you’re nice and wet for me.”

He started to move south, licking and giving attention to your right nipple as he did so. While the idea of him giving you thorough attention was erotic, you really wanted to please him for your first time together, unknown to you as Eren had thought the exact same thing, wanting to make you feel so good you’d come crawling back to him for more.

You pushed yourself up into a seating position, Eren’s eyes flickering in confusion as you stood up. This look didn’t last for long as you switched positions, pushing his torso onto the bed as you rested atop of him, feet placed firmly on the ground. His mouth hung open in disbelief as you began to return his assault on his neck, sucking and kissing and even biting along the columns. He let out a shaky groan, unable to hold it back as your hands traveled down his chest to his abdomen, feeling over the muscles there.

“What’re you doing, princess?” Eren questioned teasingly, not trying to get his hopes up on what your plan seemed to be.

“Wanna’ make you feel good,” your eyes flickered up to meet the dark green of his eyes, watching as his pupils expanded as the realization hit him like a brick.

“Fuck, okay,” Eren subconsciously widened his thighs then, bringing himself up to lean on his elbows as your kisses followed shortly behind the trail of your fingers.

Your mouth met the defined muscle of his stomach, and your eyes drifted up to catch Eren’s reaction as you neared closer to his aching cock. His eyes were hardened on you, brows knitted together, he almost looked angry. You kitten licked above his navel, and knew the anger was superficial as he threw his head back, letting out a quiet groan. You leaned your body in closer, pushing your exposed chest against his length. He whipped his head forward again at the contact, his lips opened as he inhaled shaky breaths.

Part of you had kind of wanted to hear Eren beg for your mouth, but the thought had quickly left your head as he entangled his fingers into the back of your scalp, massaging gently as he did so. Without a moment of hesitation, you lowered your face so you were eye to eye with his thick shaft. Honestly, you really hadn’t expected Eren to be this big. You had caught a glimpse of his half erect member tenting in his pants the night before, but as it stood to full attention, you were very much intimidated by the sheer size. You gulped, putting on a brace face as you continued on.

The sound of Eren’s groans growing louder as you licked a bold stripe from the bottom of his base to the tip of his head had stirred your cunt deeply. You were on your knees now, feet tucked up under you when you felt the wet patch of your panties touch the back of your heels. You licked a few more times, your right hand trailing down from his stomach to grip him more upright. You pulled all the saliva in your mouth onto your tongue, and wrapped your lips around his tip while your hand secured a purposeful grip at his base. You started slow, only sucking in your cheeks and moving your tongue along the underside of his head, pumping him at the same pace. You could feel beads of spit meet your knuckles, circling your tongue around the entirety of his fat mushroom tip. You smoothly licked along his slit, collecting his gushing precum and tasting the salty liquid.

Meanwhile as you had just started your worship of his cock, Eren was watching you in disbelief as your eyelashes fluttered along your cheeks, mouth prepping yourself to take in his full length. He had pulled himself into a sitting position now to provide you the best angle he could. He was in complete awe, furrowing eyebrows and his mouth hanging open, he knew in that moment there was absolutely no point of return. He would follow you from here on out, whether it be online or in reality, wherever you would go. Soulmates, he reminded himself while he collected your hair into his fist and away from your mouth. You were his fucking soulmate.

You pressed your knees upward, eyes opening. Eren’s pupils were blown out, his breathing irregular, and you wanted to watch him completely unfold as you angled your head to drop lower onto his shaft, hand working just a little faster.

“Fuck —“ he stuttered, eyes blazing into yours. “That’s it, take all of me, you’re such a good girl.”

You moaned lightly at his praise once again, and Eren’s cock hit the back of your throat. You pulled your lips up slowly, tongue caressing the underside of his member the entire time, and quickly brought your unoccupied hand into a fist. This was the first time you would be trying out this trick, reading it in a magazine since your gag reflex was very strong and this helped soothe the impulse. Eren was not prepared in the slightest as you removed the hand gripping him, letting his dick fall forward a bit more. You took a deep breathe through your nose, spit coating his entire cock now, and pushed your mouth fast back down his shaft.

Eren let out a strangled gasp when your nose brushed against his pelvis, “Holy fucking — fuck. Shit, yeah, just like that. You look so fucking pretty right now.”

Tears were threatening the spill over your lash line and you bobbed your head furiously, taking in as much as you could before you gagged. You stared up at him the entire time, watching his face screw together as you lapped and sucked his cock. Your jaw was aching already from his size, minding your teeth placement as you quickened your pace. You returned your hand to wrap and pump whatever your mouth wasn’t able to reach as you set yourself into a more comfortable pattern. Your other hand cupped his balls, swirling them softly in your palms.

Eren’s fingers yanked you back, his dick falling out of your lips in a soft pop, as you looked up in confusion, “Gonna’ stop you there baby, gonna’ make me cum.”

His hand in your hair guided you back up to his lips, and Eren could taste himself as his tongue pushed through your swollen mouth to enter yours. You moaned into the kiss, so sloppy and messy, you took no notice of Eren’s hands wiping away the leftover dribble on your chin. He yanked you back, a bit rougher this time, and you panted, rubbing your thighs together at the force. He eyed you up, your beautiful tits still on display, the fabric of your lace bra folded underneath them.

“Get naked for me, princess,” he cooed, untangling his fingers from your scalp. You did as you were told, practically ripping the lace set off your body as you soon stood stark naked in front of Eren. He pushed his legs up, joining you. You felt very small then as he towered above you, playing with the tips of your hair, he guided you around until you were forced to lay yourself flat on your back on the mattress once again.

Eren caressed your shins as he stood tall in front of you, never breaking eye contact. You could still see the glistening of your saliva on his cock, and heat continued to pool in between your thighs in anticipation of his next move.

“Look at you,” he whispered, wrapping his fingers on the tops of your bent knees, legs closed together. “So pretty, it almost hurts to look at you.”

His darkened eyes shot down, drinking you all in before settling on your closed legs. With his hands, he gently forced them to part, and he let out a quiet moan at the sight in front of him. Dripping in arousal, almost sparkling and shining like the gem you were, your pussy spread open for him, begging for his attention. His gaze darted up back to your face, trying not to get too carried away as he admired your beautiful body.

Eren let out a dark chuckle, stroking his hands to the meat of your thighs, “You have no idea the things I have planned for us, princess.”

You whimpered, unable to voice a single word. His right hand moved towards your center, and you gasped sharply as he gently grazed your folds with the lightest of touches. His thumb landed a hair above your clit, and you squirmed, desperate now. He circled so slowly on your pearl, gazing on with an inflated ego. Eren wanted you to beg for him, to tell you all about those ideas he had going on in his head while he fucked his fingers into you.

He decided to go easy on you though, you had plenty of time ahead of you to learn exactly what he wanted when it came to the bedroom, he cooed, “I’m gonna’ show you off, just like you deserve. Gonna’ buy you pretty things, treat you like the fucking princess you are — gonna’ be my pretty girl.”

“Please, Eren,” you whimpered, attempting to push your pelvis into his hand, failing miserably as his other one gripped your thigh in place. “I need you.”

“Tell me exactly what you need, baby,” Eren smirked.

“Everything,” you breathed out. “I want you to keep calling me pretty, wan’ you to fuck me.”

“We’ll get to that part soon,” he paused, lowering his head to your inner thigh, getting to his knees on the floor. “Just need to make you feel good first, pretty girl.”

Eren licked a bold stripe up your pussy as you mewled, feeling a shred of relief as the tip of his tongue circled your clit. You felt a bead of saliva, probably mixed in with your own arousal, travel down the seam of your ass. Eren was starving, and you tasted so delicious, a sweet tart flavor exploding across his taste buds. He flattened his tongue, and looked up to watch your gorgeous face as his lips engulfed your clit.

You threw your head back, eyes rolling into the back of your skull as you attached your hands to your breasts, pulling and tugging on your nipples. He positioned his hands to the back of your thighs then, somehow managing to spread you open even more. The sounds he made in between your folds were wet and sloppy, and he rubbed small circles with the pads of his thumbs into the creases where your legs met your ass.

He never broke away from your face, watching everything unfold before him. Now that you were free from his solidifying grip, your hips were rolling. He watched your ribs expand and fall as you moaned unabashedly, rubbing your cunt into his mouth. Eren had never seen a more beautiful sight, and suddenly, it wasn’t enough to satisfy him. His right hand itched closer to your opening, and you trembled at the prodding of his index fingers. His tongue flopped around sloppily, slurping your bud in between his lips as he entered you slowly, cock pulsing at the feeling of your slick velvety walls greeting his finger.

Here he was, on his knees before you, eyes heavy and swirling because of you. You arched your back as he pumped the single digit in you slowly at first. He felt the tight clench of your walls as his tongue flicked at a certain angle, pleased that he had discovered very quickly how he was going to get you to cum. Eren was impatient, and as much as he wanted to stay between the heat of your thighs for hours if you’d let him, he really needed that orgasm from you. The tip of his pointer finger left you briefly, and you whimpered at the sudden loss, quickly becoming breathless and he slammed it right back in alongside his middle finger. They curled inside of you, brushing right against the soft spongy wall that was your g-spot. You were gushing for him, the sloppy noises of his assaults resounding around the bedroom.

“Fuck, fuck,” you panted, feeling your breasts bounce as he fucked his fingers into you at an alarming pace, tongue following the pattern eagerly. “Oh my god, I’m so close, Eren, I’m gonna’ cum.”

He pulled his mouth back momentarily, voice husky and pleading as he told you, “Cum for me, baby.”

You slammed your hips down onto his knuckles, feeling the underside of his palm and your slick. He had been reduced to curling and angling his fingers inside of you, watching in adoration and awe as you bounced yourself on his fingers, rubbing your pretty pussy against his mouth. Eren had just become a bystander at this point, he was pretty much forced to be stilled as you used his mouth and hands so greedily, feeling an unfamiliar swell in your cunt.

And when your back arched, and your walls clenched so fiercely tight around his drenched fingers, Eren found his forever love. He’d do anything, be anyone, whatever the fuck that was asked of him, to see this sight for the rest of his life. You were vibrating, legs shaking so strongly, Eren had to mentally catch up when he felt a gush of hot liquid soak him. He shifted his gaze down in shock, and holy shit, you were squirting.

You swore you had never orgasmed like this before, it was more than stars you were seeing behind your closed eyelids. It was pure black, absolute nothingness as your brain short circuited. It was like your pussy was taking a deep breath, because when the onset of contractions hit you, you thought you were going to pass out. And poor Eren, who stared dumbly in front of him at how intense your muscles were flexing, was already so deeply in love with you and was confessing his eternal devotion to you in his mind.

When your cunt had settled down, and your hips relented in pushing yourself against Eren’s face and hands, you let out a low moan as he slid his drenched fingers out of you. He stared at his hand, shining with your cum, and flickered his gaze up to you.

“I’m going to fucking marry you,” he growled. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever fucking seen.”

You let out an exhausted laugh, “Would you believe me if I told you that was the first time I’ve ever squirted?”

“I’m buying you a goddamn ring tomorrow,” he placed a kiss to your inner thigh, moving his body up to hover above you. Eren’s hands wrapped around your thighs once again, propping your knees to your chest. He saw the slight trace of fear in your eyes, and he paused, “You okay?”

“It’s just,” you gazed at the point between your bodies. “Are you gonna’ fit?”

Eren leaned forward, feeling slightly relieved, his face still dripping in your essence, and he placed a sweet, romantic kiss to your lips, pulling away to murmur, “I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

You nodded your head, letting the worry roll off your body as one of his hands caressed your cheek, never breaking eye contact with him. The other hand reached in between your centers, grabbing his throbbing cock and sliding himself along your pussy. He was soon coated in your juices, and both of you were letting out quiet moans. As he sunk his tip into your entrance though, you were gasping loudly.

Eren really had wanted to be gentle, he had no intentions whatsoever of hurting you, but he had realized very quickly that you were going to be the one to set the pace in the relationship. Because as soon as half of his shaft was anchored in your heat, your hips slammed upwards to engulf his entire length. He bit back a yelp at the suddenness, fisting the sheets by your waist in a tight grip. If Eren didn’t feel like a virgin before, he sure as fuck did now.

You didn’t realize just how prepped that orgasm had made you, or how sensitive. What you had believed would’ve been pain was insurmountable and mind blowing pleasure, and you smiled in pride as Eren’s jaw fell open. You felt his hands fall from the underside of your thighs, and you took the opportunity, leveraging your legs, and thrusted upwards. Eren bottomed out inside of you, and you winced slightly at the mild pain of his tip meeting the wall of your cervix, the stretch of your walls accommodating him as you fluttered around him.

“You’re so big, Eren,” you moaned out, moving your hands to grasp his flexing biceps. “‘Feels so good.”

Eren was fighting an internal war — go as slow as physically possible as to not bust in your heavenly pussy in three strokes, or give you the best two minutes of your fucking life. Because it was absolutely all way too much, your gorgeous face, your soaked core, the way you gripped his cock so tightly. You were a vixen, Eren’s personal vices wrapped up in one human body. He couldn’t help but take notice of how perfectly your bodies fit together, your pussy made for him.

“Eren, move, please,” you whined, attempting to squirm your hips. He shot a hand down to your hip, stilling you as he gave you a warning glare.

“I’m trying really hard not to cum inside of you right now,” Eren groaned, finally moving his hips. “You’re so fucking tight, baby. Making it real hard for me right now.”

Little was Eren aware of your pussy still on edge from the mind blowing power of your first orgasm, and you mouth lolled open as he slowly fucked you. If you were to touch your clit, or have any type of pressure there right now, it would be over for you as well. You’d have all the time in the future to have long, drawn out sex with Eren, but the two of you were just way too turned on and aroused by each other to have anything but heavy and fast sex. With a slight hesitation on your end, also not wanting to cum so quickly around his length, you rocked your hips into his fastening pace.

Eren chose the latter of his two options then, feeling the ridges of your pussy pulse and flutter around his cock. He pulled all the way back, tip daring to fall out of your little hole, and he flung himself right back in to the hilt. He repeated this a few times, and you were trying your best to hold back screams. Eren was drooling at the sight of your pretty pink pussy taking him, sloppy and messy from his saliva and your cum. He brought his attention to your bouncing breasts, molding one into his palm, rolling the nipple in the center.

Eren’s thrusts quickened dramatically, and he knew that your warning from the previous night had been true. You were screaming, calling out his name and several swears and ‘oh my god’s. This only encouraged him more, ego pretty much stroking his own cock as he plunged into you at a dangerous pace. He knew he was going to fast approach his orgasm, but Eren wasn’t stupid either. He could feel the clench tightening around him as he fucked right into that pretty spot inside of you, the way your breathing changed after a few seconds of that. Eren would become your number one expert, knowing every tell tale sign of your body, and what you were feeling. From one orgasm, he knew how your breathing changed, and Eren was determined to take you to those heights again.

Keeping the flick of his hips at the slamming pace he was at, he brought his thumb to your swollen clit. At the impact, your eyes screwed closed over the overwhelming pleasure. You felt a twinge of pain, just so sensitive from how strong you came before, but didn’t stop Eren as he rolled your pearl in fast circles, putting delicate pressure on the very top. It took maybe three strokes of his cock and a slight unsteady irregularity in his pattern to get you right where he had wanted you — desperate to cum alongside him.

“I’m so close, Eren,” you moaned out, lower body buzzing in anticipation.

“I want you to cum on my cock,” he demanded, a shocked moan crawling out of his throat at the first clench. “Oh, fuck, good girl.”

You spasmed under him, eyebrows shooting up in a furrow as you arched your back uncontrollably, the wave of your second orgasm slamming into you like a train. You could hear the squelching of Eren fucking your pussy as you contracted around him, or as he tried to. It was pure ecstasy, a feeling of wholeness filling you entirely. Half way through your orgasm, he grabbed the base of his cock, sliding out of you as he pumped himself fast above you. You held your legs open, breathing heavily as Eren watched your muscles contract in astonishment. He had never made a girl cum like this before, so hard and so visually. Your beautiful face, eyes encouraging him to cum, was all he needed. His dick was covered in you, his fingers sticky and soaked. It was all so fucking sloppy, and the thought and sight of it all caught up to him.

You felt the hot ropes of cum hit your belly, moaning at the sight. Eren was fucking his fist, cock thrusting in his grip like he had been doing in your pussy. His head hung forward, eyes drinking in the entirety of you. He shot his load on your lower half, stroking himself down after a couple of minutes, breathing heavily.

He eyed the box of tissues on your nightstand, and grabbed a few, languidly wiping his cum off of your abdomen as the two of you tried to catch your breath, or bring a ration thought back into your minds.

“We just had porn star sex,” you giggled tiredly.

“Oh yes we fucking did,” Eren smirked. “Not to like hype you up or whatever, that was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

Your pride and ego swelled as he finished wiping up his cum, discarding the tissues in the bin on the floor. He hadn’t given you much time to respond, asking where the bathroom was so he could grab a rag to clean you up. You were humbled, affection rising in your chest when he returned to take care of your exhausted body. No one had bothered with aftercare before, and right then and there, you knew Eren was a keeper.

“Thank you,” you yawned out, stretching your legs in front of you. Eren hung around a little awkwardly, not sure of what to do. “You can spend the night, if you want to.”

He raised his eyebrows, a smile crossing his face, “Do you want me to?”

You rolled your eyes, pushing yourself back until your head met your pillows and lifted your comforter, gesturing for Eren to join you. And that he did, pouncing on the offer and sliding into bed with you, not hesitating for a second to wrap his muscular arms around your waist. He kissed you gently, pulling away to place his lips on your shoulder as you began to drift off.

You awoke alone in your bed, the bright rays of the sun hazy as you blinked the sleep away. You could smell and hear the sizzling of breakfast in your kitchen, your bedroom door swung wide open. You threw your legs over the mattress, stealing a quick look at yourself in the mirror. You cringed at the mascara stains under your eyes, taking a tissue and wiping underneath your lashes to look presentable enough for the man looming in your kitchen. You discarded the tissue, and slid on a pair of fresh panties and Eren’s enormous sweatshirt you had yet to return, and padded your bare feet across your floor to join him.

Eren’s back faced you, his form only clad in a pair of boxers as he focused his complete attention to the frying pans in front of him. You smirked, leaning against your counter, placing your chin in your open hands.

“Good morning, Chef Eren,” you teased, catching him off guard as he jumped a bit.

He turned to face you, hair a complete mess as a boyish smile graced his face, “Morning, princess. I hope you don’t mind my mess.”

“It smells amazing, so I guess I can figure out a way to forgive you,” you sighed dramatically. “Only if there’s coffee involved, though.”

“Way ahead of you,” he moved his legs over to your coffee machine, a pair of steaming muga awaiting his hand. He grabbed one, a plain white mug that matched the rest of your kitchen set, and set it on the counter in front of you.

“If you’re trying to earn extra credit, it’s working,” you said, dumbstriken.

“Gotta’ show you I’m boyfriend material,” he wagged his eyebrows, turning back to the frying pan before cutting the heat off. “I couldn’t find your plates, though.”

“Cabinet above the sink,” you directed, pulling out a stool from underneath your kitchen bar. “Forks and stuff are in the drawer by the refrigerator.”

Eren nodded, collecting two plates and the necessary utensils from their designated areas. The sight of eggs and bacon made your mouth water, and you were about to get a key made specifically for Eren to waltz in every morning to cook you this glorious meal every single day. You thanked him as he set your plate in front of you, and you dug in.

“Eren, it’s so good,” you complimented after chewing. “You really know how to treat a girl.”

He simply laughed, and the two of you fell into a pleasant conversation. And then by the time mid day rolled around, the two of you had talked all about where you’d be spending the evening. The night had ended just like the one before in mind blowing sex, the morning after repeating itself, and again, and again.

A month later, you had updated your Instagram bio. ‘Connoisseur of mimosas, rock and roll, and Eren Jaeger’. And when it had come time to update your OnlyFans content, you were more than happy to have your own personal photographer to use at your discretion. Just as long as you continued to wear his necklace, Eren would take as many pictures as you needed him to, knowing you’d end up in each other’s beds at the end of the session anyways. And he’d continue to follow you, this time though, you’d gladly send him his favorite pictures for free.

LACHERI © 2021: all writing content belongs to LACHERI. I do not allow reposts or translations. this is my only account.

#eren x reader #eren jaeger #eren yaeger #attack on titan #shingeki no kyoujin eren #eren smut #eren fluff #eren fanfiction #attack on titan eren #aot eren #eren jeager x reader #eren jaeger x y/n #eren yaeger x reader #eren fic

[onceupon]

London Boy

summary: Y/n finds herself all the way across the pond, trying to escape OBX. But much to her surprise, a certain someone might get in the way.

pairing: Rafe x reader (just an intro in this part, we’ll get there dw)

warnings: swearing, drinking, some mentions of anxiety?

word count: 3.2k

a/n: if you’re a sucker for a slow burn like me, buckle up and enjoy the ride. I plan on this being multiple parts and this is also my first time posting so please be gentle with me lol :’-) (not canon Rafe)

You huffed as you dragged your extra large and definitely overweight luggage down to the pickup area at Heathrow airport. You had just landed in London where you’d be going to school until the holidays.  You had decided to apply for, and actually got accepted into, your high school’s British exchange program. Every year Kildare Academy gave the option for 15 seniors to study for half the school year at Westheath Academy in London, a private boarding school, while 15 kids from their school came to yours. Normally, you wouldn’t have dreamed of leaving your friends and family for that long, not to mention missing out on half of senior year at home. But ever since the drama that erupted during the summer after your junior year that ended with you being shunned by your “friend group” (where they really ever your friends to begin with?), you practically jumped at the opportunity to get as far away from the Outer Banks as possible, albeit for a little while.

You didn’t know at all what to expect at Westheath, you had skipped the predeparture orientation at Kildare a few weeks ago, but you didn’t care - didn’t care who was going or what Westheath was like, all that mattered was that for the next few months you could finally breath. It was the clean slate you desperately needed, a chance to finally be around people and places you hadn’t known since birth. Sure there were going to be 14 other kids from Kildare there as well, but you had zero intentions of sticking with your OBX peers over the next few months. You weren’t going to let your small town suffocate you for a second longer if you could help it.

You double checked the license plate on your phone screen as the Uber you ordered pulled up.

“Y/N?” the driver called out from the front-right window (god that was going to take some getting used to.)

“Yep!” you smiled, huffing as you tried to pick up your luggage and step off the curb. Thankfully the uber driver was quick to your rescue, effortlessly lifting your suitcase into the trunk of the car. Leave it to you to overpack without even thinking to leave room for all of the clothes and souvenirs you were certain to accumulate - oh well, an excuse for a new suitcase you supposed.

Not in the mood for small talk, you were relieved that the Uber driver silently read your mind, playing a pop station as you both respectfully ignored each other’s presence. You anxiously tapped your thumb on your phone, eyes flicking between the screen where you watched your route progress and the view out your window of townhomes, pubs, and countless strangers passing by.

You hadn’t felt anxious about leaving for London the entire first half of junior year, so why was your stomach and head simultaneously churning now? You were so excited to experience a version of life that was the opposite of everything you were trying to get away from - a version of life that involved British accents, buzzing city life, and endless possibilities. But it was all of a sudden dawning on you how unfamiliar it all was. As much as you hated to admit it to yourself, no matter how far you ran, you would never be able to fully separate yourself from OBX. That damned small beach-town would always be a part of you, an inextricable thread in the fabric of your life.

The Uber pulled up to a halt in front of your destination. You hesitantly glanced out your window as you double checked the silver number on the building. Yep, 25 Brampton Rd - you were here. The Uber driver graciously lifted your suitcase out of the trunk for you and as he pulled away you let out a long breath - your fresh start was waiting behind the doors in front of you.

You rang the doorbell to the lobby, the security here no joke. You were soon buzzed into the building and you shakily pulled your suitcase in behind you, desperately trying to calm your nerves to no avail.

“Hi,” you croaked out as you approached the man seated at the front desk. “I’m- uhh here to check in to my apartment- uh I mean flat… I think… I’m with the Kildare Academy exchange,” you rambled, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. Despite your best efforts, your anxiety was taking over.

The man gave you a sympathetic smile. “Name please?”

“Y/n L/n,” you replied, pulling your lips into a sheepish straight-lined smile as you mindlessly tapped your fingers on the handle of your suit case.

“L/n, L/n, L/n,” the man quietly muttered under his breath as his pen traced over a list of names. “Ahh here you are. Alright Miss L/n, here is a fob, this lets you into the building, now this key lets you into your flat, you’ll be on the second floor - apartment 2C, and this key is for your individual room,” he began to fire off at you as he rounded the desk and came to grab your suitcase, beginning to walk as you hastily followed suit. “This packet will tell you everything you need to know about our building here - wifi, laundry, trash days,” he shoved some papers in your hand as you both entered the elevator, him pressing the button for the second floor.

You emerged on to your floor and a few steps later you two were at the door of your new home, which the man quickly unlocked gesturing for you to step inside. “And this, Miss L/n, is your flat for the next few months with us here at Westheath. Your room is the second right down the hall there and I believe you’re the first here. Two of your flatmates who are yet to check in are from Kildare, such as yourself, and the other two are students of our own here at Westheath. You know I’m surprised how early you are, classes don’t start until next week! But nevertheless I’ll let you get settled,” you stood staring blankly at your new surroundings, more or less registering the words this man was firing off at you.

“I’m Richard by the way, if you ever need anything you know where to find me,” the man extended his hand toward you.

“Thank you,” you smiled, accepting his handshake.

“Welcome to Westheath,” he smiled back and just as quickly was turning on his heel and back out the door before you could get in another word, leaving you in your new flat by yourself.

You slowly walked through the empty place, meandering through the kitchen and living area, down the hall, peaking into the bathroom, and then finding your way to your room. It certainly wasn’t the type of living arrangement you were used to back home - your family lived on Figure 8 in the Outer Banks meaning you had grown up surrounded by mansions and luxuries. This place was small, simple, and yet it was cozy and well… perfect. It was the exact opposite of your Figure 8 life and that alone was enough to make you love it. You smiled, content, as you sank on to your empty bed, taking in your new room. You had a nice sized desk, a decent shelf, and a wardrobe. Simple and sufficient. You could get used to this. The room was starkly barren, but since school wasn’t set to start for another week and no one was here yet you made a mental note to go on a little mission to find some plants and decorations to bring the white box that was your room a bit more to life.

——-

Three days had passed and still your other flat mates had yet to show. You were starting to wonder if they ever would or if you’d end up living in this flat all by yourself. Your room was now decorated, you had found some cute posters in a shop you had wandered into, some plants in another, and string lights in a third. You had acquainted yourself with the grocery store around the corner and the drug store down the street and you’d even gone on the tube all by yourself.

Being on your own these last few days had been decidedly therapeutic, leaving you unable to contain a cheesy grin every time it hit you that you were actually here, in London, far far away from OBX. But you couldn’t help feeling a little lonely, with a passing hello to Richard every time you left and returned to the building being your main source of human interaction these last few days.

You laid on your bed as you debated the decision you were about to make - you would’ve never dared to use Tinder back home. You knew virtually everyone on the island and would’ve been absolutely mortified to match with anybody there. But hey - you were in London baby! This was a fresh start and nothing was off limits. You sighed and gave in, downloading the app and quickly making a profile. You must’ve rearranged the order of your pictures at least a dozen times before you finally decided it was good enough. You started to swipe, an endless supply of British boys at your finger tips. You couldn’t suppress a chuckle at how funny the whole concept was, your inbox already flooding with cheesy pick up lines from your matches. You spent the next hour going back and forth with these boys, silly, meaningless, flirty conversations - god it was so much easier being a flirt through a screen, you would be positively flushed in the face in person, unless you were drunk of course (your drunk self was a dangerously confident flirt for sure).

Liam: are you free tonight? Down to grab a drink and chat?

Oh wow. Straight to the point wasn’t he. You knew the point of the app was to eventually get off it and meet up with someone, but now that you were met with the opportunity, your stomach was flipping upside down. Fuck it, what do you have to lose?

Y/n: yeah that sounds great, I’m in Hammersmith if you wanted to go somewhere there?

Liam: perfect so am I (: 8pm at The Ladle. See you there xx

Pure adrenaline coursed through your body as you started doing your hair and makeup, throwing clothes all around your small room to find the perfect outfit that was cute but simultaneously made it seem like you weren’t trying too hard. You threw your wallet and keys in your purse, chugged the glass of wine you had been casually sipping on by yourself, and quickly headed out the door before you could overthink it and change your mind.

——

You nervously approached the bar that Google Maps had directed to you, not sure what you were getting yourself into, but you had already walked all the way here so you’d be damned if you didn’t see it through.

“Y/n?” a voice called out to you. God, hearing your name in that accent sent shivers down your spine.

“Yeah that’s me, Liam?” you questioned back, staring up at the fluffy browned-hair boy approaching you.

“That’s me,” he winked, extending his arm out to you which you nervously grabbed, as he led you into The Ladle, spotting an empty table for the two of you.

“So Y/n, what are you doing here in London. Something tells me you’re not from here?”the boy across from you smiled as you two got settled in your seats.

“Hmmm I wonder what could’ve ever given it away,” you replied with a sarcastic smile, American accent in full force. “But I’m here for school, on an exchange at Westheath Academy.”

“Oh shit, that means we’ll see each other around. I’m finishing up my last year actually. And somehow you’re the first American I’ve had the pleasure of being on a date with,” he smiled with a devilish grin that felt like it was burning into you, you hoping the flush on your cheeks wasn’t too obvious with the dim lighting.

“Lucky me,” you smiled back, faking a sly confidence as best you could despite the fact that you were all nerves on the inside. Dating was not something you were familiar with, having maybe gone on two back home, if those even counted.

“First round on me, what are you drinking tonight Y/n?”

“Umm a vodka cran is fine,” you replied to which you were immediately met with a scoff.

“No way babe, you’re in a pub in England now. Should’ve figured as much coming from an American like you,” he chuckled with a shake of his head, his fluffy hair bouncing with it. “I’m getting you a pint,” he asserted, walking over to the bar and giving you a moment to breath and collect yourself. You hated beer but weren’t about to put up a fight, at this point you would down just about any alcohol in order to get some more liquid courage in your system.

He quickly returned, placing the tall glass of golden-colored liquid in front of you.

“Cheers, to new school mates,” he winked extending his glass up to yours.

“To new school mates,” you smiled back, bringing your glass to clink with his, taking a long swig and trying not to grimace at the taste of the liquid going down your throat.

——

The night passed by quickly, you and Liam going through three rounds of drinks as you both laughed and bantered with one another, your nerves all but dissipated by the alcohol now coursing through your bloodstream. Heck, the beer was even starting to taste… good? God you barely recognized yourself anymore, but in the best possible way. One by one you were letting the closely guarded walls you had built up over the years in OBX fall, and you were feeling better than ever before - you felt free.

You and Liam stumbled back arms linked to the building you found out you were both living in, Liam on the fourth floor. You rummaged for the fob in your purse and you both got on the elevator, Liam instinctively pressing both your floor numbers. The elevator dinged opening to your floor, Liam turning to you with a cheeky smile.

“See you around, Y/n,” he winked. Why did you find that so attractive, or maybe it’s just because you were slightly drunk.

“Goodnight Liam,” you smirked back, blowing him a kiss as you walked out the elevator, the doors closing behind you.

You couldn’t help but smile like an idiot as you unlocked your flat and stumbled into your room, immediately collapsing on your bed. London. It was definitely going to be an adventure.

——

You were woken up the next day by the sun peaking through your window. You yawned and let out a big stretch, still giddy from last night’s date. It’s not like you thought you had just met your soulmate or something, you both kept the evening light, mainly joking and flirting as you downed drinks. But god you couldn’t remember the last time you had that much fun or ended a night feeling so confident and carefree. You were embracing every ounce of the euphoria you were getting from your new life.

You slipped out of bed and made your way to the kitchen, still rubbing the morning crust out of your eyes. Just as you got a pot of coffee going, you heard the distinct sound of a key turning, startling you as you realized it was coming from outside of your flat’s door. You cursed at the fact that you were about to meet a new flatmate while in your flannel pajamas and messy bun hanging halfway off your head, but mainly you were excited to finally have some company.

“Dude it’s no Figure 8 living but fuck it I’ll live anywhere to not have my parents breathing down my neck these next few months,” you heard a voice say, now in the hallway of your flat.

You immediately freeze. That was a male voice, definitely a male. Of course it makes sense now that you think of it, everyone in the flat gets their own room so what does it matter if the flat is co-ed. The thought just hadn’t crossed your mind, you automatically assumed you’d be living with all girls.

“Yeah man, anywhere that’s 1,000 miles away from Ward sounds like the perfect place to me,” another male voice laughed in return. Ward? Ward Cameron? That couldn’t possibly be who the voice was referring to because that would mean you were living with- and before you could even finish your thought you were standing jaw slightly parted staring at Rafe Cameron and Topper Thornton  in front of you. Two of the most popular guys at school.

You weren’t really friends but your families knew each other so you inevitably saw one another at kook events every now and then. You couldn’t help but feel intimidated by them. You always told yourself you didn’t care about boys like Rafe and Topper or about fitting in with their crowd, yet you always became nervous in their presence.  They were cool. They partied a lot, were athletes, and had girls tripping over them, which you couldn’t fault considering anyone with eyes could tell they were attractive, but you’d never have the confidence to be so bold with guys like that. Unless you were drunk of course. And unless you were the new confident and carefree version of yourself that you had been on your date last night with Liam.

“Yo Y/n, no fucking way, I didn’t know we’d get to live with girl,” Topper smiled at you with a teasing grin.

You were suddenly acutely aware of how disheveled you look and how you weren’t wearing a bra under your thin pajama top.

“Uh hey w-what are you guys doing here,” you managed to choke out. That confident girl from last night had disappeared as quickly as she had arrived, leaving you now feeling winded in front of the two boys from your hometown. Why were you getting so flustered?

“Just on a little exchange program from Kildare, maybe you’ve heard of it,” teased Rafe sarcastically, a smile tugging at his lips, holding back a laugh at how caught off guard you looked.

“Yeah no yeah of course,” you stuttered, “I guess I just wasn’t expecting you two to want to sign up for it.”

That’s when you realized the obvious. Every year there was always a number of spots reserved on the exchange for athletes, and Rafe and Topper were two of Kildare’s star soccer players.

“What and get to miss an opportunity to play at Westheath and go to Premier League games all semester? No shot,” laughed Topper.

“Maybe you should’ve gone to orientation after all, roomie,” joked Rafe as he picked up his bag following Topper down the hall to their rooms. Rafe Cameron noticed I didn’t go to orientation?

You let your face fall in your hands with a groan only audible to you. You quickly picked up your head and shook yourself off, pouring yourself a cup of coffee as you tried to ground yourself from your frazzled state. Looks like escaping OBX was going to be harder than you thought.

---

Part 2

#rafe cameron #outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x reader #obx #outerbanks rafe

[tefilovesreading]

It’s a match! Part. 1

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x Fem!Reader

Word count: +1,7k

Warnings: language, mention of alcohol.

A/N: This is a mini series, I’m not sure how many parts it’s gonna have and there’s gonna be some texts in between. LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANNA BE TAGGED. 

Edited by: @theamazingtomholland

MASTERLIST // PART 2 // PART 3

She felt her hands start sweating as she saw the small circle slowly filling up, letting her know that the app was being downloaded. She knew what a dating app was, how it worked and what was its purpose, but never created her account, not that she needed it before because she had a boyfriend. Her roommate, on the other hand, was well acquainted with dating apps, and they’d spent nights swiping through the profiles together. 

Now that she was single for the first time since she graduated from high school, her roommate and best friend had convinced her to download Tinder and have fun.

“You don’t even have to go and meet the guy, Y/N,” Jo had said with a beaming smile to encourage her when they met for coffee earlier that day, “just have a look and see if you find someone you’d want to talk to.”

She nibbled on her lip when the circle filled up entirely and the icon appeared on her screen, bright and inviting. Putting her phone down, she decided she’d create her account later, for now, downloading it was more than enough.

In her sophomore year, she broke up with her boyfriend because they couldn’t find time to be together, too busy with classes, exams, and part-time jobs. But that didn’t last long, ‘cause they got back together after three weeks. 

Those three weeks ignited a spark in her, suddenly things were more exciting to her, and she didn’t feel like she was acting how others expected her to. Y/N felt a kind of freedom that made her go on a date with her co-worker, sure they just went for a coffee together once and decided that they were better off as friends, but that small rejection made her want to make that spark disappear.

Being with Lance made things easier, they knew each other since they were little, and that meant she didn’t have to open up to let him know her flaws and fears, because he knew her like the palm of his hand. Being with him made her feel safe, even when they were apart during his first year of college since she was a year younger than him and was still in high school when he left for college, but that safety net vanished when Lance decided he wanted to spend time overseas after he graduated from college. And it was useless to wait for him if he wasn’t even sure he wanted to come back.

Eight months later, Y/N felt that spark reigniting again, making her feel like she was missing something. Ever since Lance left, she spent too much time afraid to put herself out there. How can you let someone into your life and trust them to not hurt you? After all, she trusted Lance for so long just to get hurt because they didn’t want the same things, and their paths went in different ways. But Y/N knew she couldn’t hide much longer, she wanted to go out, have fun, go on dates and meet new people, she just didn’t know how to start.

Her phone vibrated with a new notification from her best friend, and she snorted at her text.

Jo: Any matches yet heartbreaker???

If only Jo knew she still wasn’t able to bring herself into making an account. Maybe she could choose the pictures first, plan her bio, and then create it. Planning that out was definitely better than staring at the app icon.

Y/N: Not yet, but I’ll let you know ;)

After an hour of scrolling through her photos, Y/N chose five pictures where she looked decent. Hell, she looked really hot in one or two of those, and she wasn’t going to act as if that wasn’t true.

“Here goes nothing,” she muttered to herself after her account was finally set up. 

It was a strange feeling swiping through the profiles, reading their bios, and rolling her eyes at some of them. But after a few minutes, she started enjoying it, not even feeling bad if she didn’t match with a guy.

She smiled at the simple bio on her screen and swiped right, not even bothering to go through his other photos. He was cute, he seemed like he liked to have fun, and even though he was cute, he was also hot. A dangerous mix, but a really nice one.

It’s a match!

“Honey I’m home!” her best friend sang, entering  the living room.

“Shit Jo!” Y/N scolded the girl, “you scared me.”

“Why?” Jo faked an offended look, “were you sending dirty messages or something?”

“Oh shut up,” Y/N said, handing her phone over to her friend with a sheepish smile on her face, “check out my last match.”

“Okay, so he likes outdoor activities, he plays the guitar, and he has a cute smile,” her friend listed, swiping through his photos, “what are you waiting for, Y/N? Send him a message!”

“I was actually waiting for him to send one first,” she admitted, feeling her cheeks heat up, “you know I suck with conversations over chat.”

“But what if he’s waiting for you to talk to him, and you don’t do it,” Y/N looked at her friend and knew she was already making up a whole movie in her head, about how they could be soulmates, but they would never know if she didn’t send him a text.

“Fine!” She huffed and took her phone from her friend’s hands, “Do I send him a hello or what?”

“No, that’s too dry,” Jo replied, “you should ask him about where he took that picture, the one where he’s in the snow.”

She bit her bottom lip to distract herself from the fact that she felt as if her stomach was tied up in knots. He was really cute, and she had a good feeling about him, almost as if the universe was telling her to go for it, meet up with him and have fun.

Hesitating at first, she let her finger hover over the little “send” button for a few seconds, before pressing the screen and sending the text.

Y/N: Hey! Where did you take the first pic? The place looks great

“What now?” Jo looked at her with one of her eyebrows arched.

“We wait, you idiot.”

“I need to do something,” Y/N locked her phone and got up, “if I stay on that couch waiting for a reply I’m gonna end up with no nails.”

“I did your nails last night, Y/N, don’t ruin my work,” Jo complained, “why don’t you cook dinner today?, and I’ll wash the dishes, so you can text with that guy if he replies to you by the time we’re done eating.”

“I’m gonna ignore the fact that it was your turn, Jo” she pointed out but made her way to the kitchen anyway, “and you better wash, dry, and put the dishes back in the cabinets.”

Cooking was the perfect distraction, and the glass of wine she drank while they were eating helped her loosen up just enough to check her phone without feeling like she was getting back some important results.

Charlie: It’s in Canada Charlie: Sulphur Mountain Trail! Charlie: I like your smile btw

She smiled with excitement when she opened the app and saw those three messages, and just as she was about to respond, Charlie sent another one.

Charlie: How was your day??  Y/N: It was good, pretty relaxing actually Y/N: Yours?? Charlie: Great! I went hiking with a friend, so now I’m just chilling at home Y/N: I’m assuming you’re into hiking, don’t you??? Charlie: Hahaha yeah you’re right Charlie: I guess I enjoy being outside, it keeps my mind occupied

Y/N: I get it, I’m not really into outdoor activities Y/N: I mean Y/N: I don’t mind going on a hike once in a while, but I prefer reading, painting, or playing some music  Y/N: To keep my mind occupied 

Five texts in a row. Was that too much? She didn’t want to appear intense, but she also didn’t want to send just one massive text and type it for way too long.

Charlie: You play an instrument?? Charlie: I love music Y/N: Yeah I play the piano Y/N: I just don’t have one with me now, so I haven’t played in a while Charlie: Oh! That sucks! Charlie: When I moved here I think I packed my guitars first and then the rest of my stuff

Y/N let out a soft laugh at his text, he did seem like the kind of guy to pack random stuff before things that he might actually need. She should’ve done the same, she missed playing the piano, and now that she was miles away from her parents’ house it wasn’t like she could just go and play. Especially because she didn’t even know how to drive a car.

Y/N: Should’ve done the same if I’m honest Y/N: Where are you from? You said you moved here

After reading his answer to her last question, she groaned in embarrassment because it was the most obvious answer, and yet she didn’t notice it.

Charlie: I’m Canadian

She lost track of time talking to him about things they both enjoyed doing, what was their favorite movie, favorite musician, and to her surprise it was so easy to talk to him about small things like that could help you a lot to get to know another person. Y/N got startled when Jo touched her shoulder to get her attention.

“I’m off to bed, babe,” Y/N dodged when her friend tried to ruffle her hair as if she was a little kid, “don’t go to bed too late.”

“I won’t mom,” she replied jokingly, “sweet dreams, Jo.”

With a heavy sigh, Y/N typed a message, telling him that she needed to get some rest and that she was hoping they could keep talking the next day.

Charlie: Do you mind if I ask you for your number?? Charlie: I’d love to call you or FaceTime with you if you’re okay with that

“Shit, shit, shit,” she whispered, wishing her best friend hadn’t gone to bed already. Of course, she wanted to give him her number, but was she supposed to give her number to the first guy she talked to on Tinder? “fuck it, I’m doing it.”

Y/N sent him her number and after telling him goodnight, she closed the app and got ready for bed. She really had a good feeling about this whole thing, and she couldn’t put her finger on what it was, because the feeling started even before they even matched. 

Maybe it was just fate doing its work.

#charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie x y/n #charlie gillespie imagine #charlie gillespie fanfic #charlie gillespie fanfiction #charlie gillespie one shot #charlie gillespie fluff #jatp cast imagine #charlie gillespie

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS | CHAPTER 5

Rating: Explicit.

‼️TW: Reader is EIGHTEEN! Recreational drug use, smoking and alcohol consumption, deeply internalised self-loathing, very questionable moral standards. Daddy kink taken half-seriously. BDSM themes in later chapters - explicit content will come with it's own TWs. FIRST PERSON POV.

Summary: You're Peter's classmate, a child of rich and famous but uncaring parents. Getting paired up for a lengthy project with the boy was an interesting turn of events and you don't know whether to feel blessed or cursed when you develop, seemingly, a perfectly normal, harmless crush on Tony Stark. Fueled by feelings of inadequacy and boredom, your life spirals out of control - and you're lucky your newfound friends are there to pick up the pieces even if you cannot find it in yourself to believe these amazing human (and not so human) beings voluntarily give you more than a fleeting glance and an offhanded thought. And they brought cake!

A/N: Revenge is sweet but a well-timed dick joke is sweeter. xoxo gossip girl. Please supervise one Bucky Barnes on the internet. Questionable music taste. Detention is the price we pay for justice. Bruce Banner is too precious for this world, too pure.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings @vozit​ @littlegasps​ @pilloclock​ @shereadsinquiet​ @downeyreads​ @hermione-grangers-wife​ @individualistfem​

Beta read by the lovely and patient @miscmarvelwritings ! 🎶🎵I love you biiitch ain't ever gonna stop loving you biiitch 🎵🎶

"Initiate phase one," I added a growly undertone to my whisper, holding my phone inconspicuously, as if I was making a simple phone call. There was no answer but I didn't expect one: I was testing the voice recorder app that I had downloaded for the sole purpose of documenting and relaying the inevitable fall of one Flash Thompson. 

Making my way through the crowd of students during the busiest time of the day, I made the most intrigued and outraged facial expression I possibly could. Spying my targets, I leaned against a nearby wall, putting a hand over my mouth in fake outrage, keeping my eyes wide and trained on the opposite wall. Just as I had predicted, the two sophomore girls started giving me side-eye by minute two of my staring and finally approached me as I contemplated the wall for whole five minutes.

"I'm sorry, are you okay?" The brunette asked, her blonde friend hanging a step back.

"Yeah, totally," I mumbled. "I'm, like, shook beyond imagination, but nothing, like, bad."

The girls traded a curious look, seemingly coming to some sort of conclusion. The greedy gleam in their eyes had me internally cheering. "What happened?" The blonde one asked, coming closer.

"I'm not sure if I should tell that to anyone," I stammered, watching them bodily move forward. "Well, okay, I can't keep quiet. But you must never, ever speak of it or I'll get expelled or something," I said nervously. They both nodded so rapidly it reminded me of Funko Pop figurines. "You know the senior guy, Flash? Brown hair, kinda hot?" Again, they both nodded, conspicuously grinning. "I think I just saw him in the closed girls bathroom on the third floor with, like, some brunette from Ms. Johnson's History class," They both gasped. Predictable. "But that's not the worst! They were like, y'know," I made an obscene gesture with my hand and they instantly covered their own mouths with their palms in shock. "And the chick was like 'is it in yet?' and he was like 'yah' and I just closed the door and ran, oh my god I hope they didn't hear me," I squealed at the end, playing the part of a mortified teenager.

All three of us giggled uncomfortably for a moment. The blonde girl stared at me suspiciously. "And what were you doing there?"

I faked a nervous stammer, looking around briefly and showing them my lighter for a moment. They both gasped and nodded in recognition. "Don't tell anybody or my mom is going to have kittens," I pleaded. Both of them nodded solemnly, noticing their own group of friends approach. I used the brief moment to get lost in the river of pupils and by the time they turned around to introduce me, I was already at the opposite part of the hallway.

For the time being, everything seemed peaceful. There were a few giggles and side-eyes directed towards Flash Thompson but nothing out of the ordinary. He was disliked by most of the student population even if nobody dared to admit it outright. I took care to walk around without my earbuds for the day and pulled out my phone to record the most interesting conversations around me whenever I caught the tell tale signs of a gossip mill beginning to run its course around the school.

"Oh my god, I heard about this girl that was caught fucking Flash in the girls bathroom and she literally said 'is it in yet', can you imagine the shock, jeez!"

"Some chick literally just rejected Flash because his dick was too small."

"Rebecca from AP chemistry told me someone saw Flash's micropenis. Poor guy!"

"I wonder if his girlfriend dumped him because he can't do shit, I mean, he doesn't look like the type to eat the kitty."

Those were just the highlights of the Friday afternoon. Come the weekend and the news of Flash's unfortunate condition will make the rounds through every single group chat that the school has and by the time Monday rolls around, nobody will have a clue who started the rumour in the first place. I had to carefully select the girls who were to distribute the rumour and I was happy with the outcome: Marissa and Layla with their squad of chatty, bored rich girls were the perfect choice. I thought they would jump at any opportunity to cause drama and I was right.

It was sufficient to say I was bristling with pride as I cut and compiled the audio track from today's school day before sending it to the group chat.

Clint, Peter and Natasha appeared online as soon as the message delivered and I was delighted at their response. Romanoff's kind words, specifically, made me all warm and mushy inside. I didn't resist the feeling, basked in it even as I did a happy dance around my room. Peter's nonsensical string of emojis was another point of laughter for me. 

It wasn't exactly the smartest way to go about killing Thompson's reputation... Alas, simplicity is the way to success when it comes to large crowds of teenagers. That tiny little vindictive part of me was very much looking forward to the weekend and the results of the inevitable distortion of the rumour I had started. Who knew, maybe by Monday Flash Thompson would not only have a micropenis but horns and hooves as well.

Near bedtime, I had all the avengers send me their regards and thumbs up. I answered the flurry of texts as quickly as I could but there was no point in keeping up with ten or so people constantly streaming their questions, opinions and comments. 

I settled on a single easiest response: pulling my dad's old uni sweatshirt over my tiny lacy pajamas to preserve some modesty, I settled in front of my mirror, turning on my Bluetooth speaker to play "Boss Ass Bitch". In true gen-z fashion, I put on my best resting witch face and solemnly lip-synced to the song's eponymous chorus. My eyeliner was sharp enough to cut paper and my prismatic highlighter glittered enigmatically in the cold light of my blue lava lamp.

The response was, once again, delightful and I genuinely belly-laughed at the adults' attempts to meme after Peter. His blushy face emoji started a whole nother conversation that I didn't participate in but watched from the sidelines with glee, snorting every time his friends and mentors gently teased him about the very obvious crush he harboured on me. 

Seeing Peter starting to go absolutely nuts, I interjected with an offer (more like a dare) of a lip sync battle. He jumped on the bandwagon, immediately going offline to undoubtedly film an epic video of what I thought would be dorky-dancing to some hipster song. I was pleasantly surprised when it turned out to be a pre-recorded tik tok video of him and Ned fighting with lightsabers while mouthing the words to Fergalicious that played over the Imperial March.

Weirdos. I still followed him on the app, though, it was pretty funny.

Bucky interjected with a very well executed rendition of "Bring Me to Life": he was wearing his full Winter Soldier get-up, complete with an AK-47, dramatically serenading Steve who looked seventeen shades of done with his partner's antics. Wanda's following twenty second voice message consisted of nothing but pure hysterical laughter, summing up everyone's reaction to the video. Bucky was going to go viral one of these days...

Obviously, I had good competition and nobody else seemed to want to participate so I rearranged my surroundings a little bit and stood up at my full height and swapped the old sweatshirt for a cute crop-top hoodie. My thigh-highs were on display and with my make-up, I looked like a proper internet e-girl. I leaned against the mirror as I mouthed along to the song with my best interpretation of the famous Lucifer smirk, seasoned with a tiny bit of angelic innocence: "Doctor, doctor, give me the news, I got a bad case of loving you..."

Needless to say, I won the competition. Eventually Wanda joined in, looking menacing and ominous with her dark clothes and Natasha's red hair flashing somewhere in the background; even Tony did a round (AC/DC as his soundtrack of course) with one of his Iron Man suits but nothing beat my stunt and the reaction that it caused.

I had accidentally called out Bruce with the choice of my song and his teammates gave both of us a lot of cheeky comments about it. We relented and flirted with each other a bit as the conversation flowed into more mundane discussion; I said my good nights somewhere between Tony's bitching about the hobbies of my generation and my nightly skincare routine. The little green heart that I'd become accustomed to over the past few weeks greeted me just as I was about to lock my phone.

Bruce was really too precious for this world. My crush on him was different than the one on Tony, it mellowed out in comparison. I wanted him to hold me, to stroke my hair, to call me his darling and wrap me up in one of those dorky button-ups that he insisted on wearing in spite of Tony's unwanted, however very valid, fashion advice.

For all that's worth, the scientist probably knew or at least suspected and had the good grace to play along just enough to satisfy my deep need for attention... Without crossing any actual lines. It was frustrating, it was disappointing but I had virtually nothing to complain about. Besides, I didn't want to lose the quirky friendship that we had. Banner was, probably, the least judgemental person I knew and I wasn't about to trade that for an awkwardly stolen kiss.

Monday and Tuesday passed in a flurry of giggling and snorting every time Flash walked by. His girlfriend broke up with him, very publicly, accusing him of cheating and he didn't even deny it - just insulted her and stormed off, leaving even his friends looking lost and clueless. I started dragging Peter and his two pet nerds along with me just about everywhere I went in case Thompson decided to do something stupid again. If judging only by the looks he was throwing our little company, he was on his way to figuring out who began nibbling at his reputation.

The week was coming to an end and the rumour began dying off, slowly. That just didn't sit with me, I wanted the fucker gone. Due to the obvious time constraints, I approached MJ regarding Peter - after a brief argument, we came to an agreement regarding Peter's safety should I need to leave him alone in the hallways or at lunch. 

I needed to do this alone so if I got caught, I won't drag them down with me. Granted, I would probably get something like a suspension and the school will attempt to call my mother (she never picks up) but that's about it. That's where her reputation comes in handy-people consciously avoid dealing with her, she can be that unbearable.

But first, I needed to get a teacher that's on my side. After carefully considering the candidates, I settled on my Social Studies professor - he taught the college-level classes and was overall a very chill, nice dude. And he disliked bullies with a flaming passion. So it didn't take me long to work him into a righteous fury - just a quick chat over a cup of tea in his homeroom and a few pictures of Peter's bruised face, complete with my own pleading puppy eyes. We agreed Mr Davies would "accidentally" leave the teacher's lounge unlocked during third period and I would sneak in. The plan wasn't foolproof but if it worked, not only Flash, but also his whole misogynistic, bigoted family would go down.

As I was leaving, Mr Davies looked up at me with a bright smile: "Give them Hell, alright?" And I suddenly noticed he was, in fact, very attractive. The smile brought out the fine wrinkles around his mouth, the crow's feet around his eyes - he smiled a lot. Silver strands mixed in with the wooden brown of his hair.

I let my eyes slide over him briefly before baring my teeth in return. "I owe you one," I don't know what possessed me to say that. My mouth really had a mind of its own sometimes. The room suddenly became hot.

"Sure," He replied, totally oblivious.

On Friday, I made myself a small nest in the empty classroom opposite the teacher's lounge and sat waiting for the signal from Mr Davies - he'd tap on the door once and I'd quietly go inside the teacher's lounge, retrieve Thompson's file and make my way back to the empty classroom to grab my backpack and carry the file to my locker for further examination. 

The first part went successfully and I managed to snag Thompson's file. It was heavy and hefty, all the evidence of his rowdiness compiled into one flimsy plastic folder. There were A LOT of pink slips and I rejoiced internally: at least there was a paper trail of his exploits. The principal didn't do anything about it which was... If not against the rules then at least frowned upon; the plan was to take copies and anonymously submit them to the school board prompting at least an investigation into the blatant disregard for Flash's immoral and illegal behaviour.

On my way back I stumbled upon the principal herself which got me not only a stern talking to, but a whole detention for skipping class. Whatever, I was too elated from potentially ruining the life of a dumb fuck who ruined my friend's face.

Surprise came in the face of Mr Davies, who, having heard the commotion in the hallway, stepped out of his class and saw me being lectured by the principal. 

"I'll take her for the detention," I heard the familiar voice behind me. The principal nodded solemnly and I had no choice but to sigh in resignation. "Three thirty, be here," He nodded to me, walking back, looking way too smug for his own good. So I wasn't the only one excited about the successful completion of stage two of my nefarious plan. Cue evil laughter.

#tony stark x reader #tony stark x y/n #bruce banner x y/n #bruce banner x reader #stephen strange x reader #Stephen Strange x y/n #bun writes #party favours #author doesn't advocate for small dick jokes but tbh the abusive fucker deserves it

[damnzawa]

hii can i request a kageyama love alarm au pls? hope u have a lovely day 🥺🤍

MILK CONFESSIONS — K. TOBIO

Note(s): Mayhaps I love this AU with Kageyama,, mayhaps I might also do one for Kenma/Kuroo haha,, also mayhaps I might post an Aizawa smut tomorrow 👀👀 ANYWAYS,, I LOVE THIS REQUEST AAAA i love kageyama tobio,, i love haikyuu,, i love them ALL! So feel free to request anything! My AU FEST! is till open too! So request your heart out!

Warning(s): Jealous Kageyama mwehehe, Yachi x Hinata (because I do whatever the fuck I want and I say in this AU they're meant to be ok?)

—

"Oi, Kageyama." A noisy crow interrupted Kageyama's inner debate on what to get from the vending machine. There on his left, stood in his short, tangerine glory, Hinata Shoyo. Hinata seemed eager to tell Kageyama something, and it appeared fishy to the blueberry.

"What?" He asked in his usual grumpy tone. Hinata pulled out his phone and started waving it at him.

"Look! Look! Someone loves me!" What does he mean by that? Does his parents not love him or something? "I downloaded this app called 'Love Alarm'! Everyone's using it so I thought might as well try right? Anyways, it syncs with your heart and tells the person you like that you like them if you're in a 10 mile radius! It also tells you if someone likes you! It doesn't tell you the name though so it might confuse your dumb brain!" Out of all the bullshit that came out of Hinata's mouth, the last one annoyed Kageyama the most.

"Oi, who are you calling dumb?" His menacing aura could almost kill Hinata. Almost. Hinata's used to it by now.

"You!" Hinata let out an 'ow!' as Kageyama hit his tangerine head. "A-Anyways, you should try it too! I was walking down the hallway earlier and my alarm rang off! Someone loves me! In this school!"

"I don't wanna. It's a waste of time." Kageyama replied before pressing the milk button. "And that app's a fake, dumbass. Don't believe in them. It's a scam."

"Psh. You're just saying that because no one probably loves you." That made Kageyama's eye twitch. Hinata smiled in triumph as he saw the boy's expression change.

Kageyama, who had a determined look on his face, grabbed his milk and faced Hinata who had a smug smile plastered on his face.

"I'll download the app. Let's see if you're right about that, dumbass." And with that Kageyama left a smiling Hinata alone on the corridor. Grabbing his phone, he made a reminder to download it when he got home.

He'll prove that dumbass wrong. He'll make Hinata pay hell later. And he'll also see if this app's a scam or not.

—

"This is stupid." You groaned as you turned on the 'Love Alarm' app on your phone. "Why do I believe in this app anyways? It's probably a scam or something." Clearly, an app wouldn't know who you're in love with right? It's just absurd. Who could possibly make such an app?

But... it wouldn't hurt to try right?

Spotting a certain blueberry just around the corner, you took a deep breath. Thump. Thump. Thump. There goes your heart again, beating as fast as it could whenever you see the volleyball maniac. You never really know why you liked him in the first place. You two weren't close nor you were strangers to each other. You two were friends—if Kageyama even considers you that—but not like Hinata-Kageyama level. It was more like on a 'I-tolerate-you' level. You don't know everything about each other but still know enough things that are personal. You both have the same interests too, it being playing volleyball. Though you weren't in his class—you actually are smarter than him—you still talked when you can. Though, conversations with him mostly happens by the vending machine while he ponders on what to get.

Something about him just attracted you. Maybe it was his looks? Or maybe it was because of his passion? Either way, you liked Kageyama. You liked him a lot. A lot, a lot.

There was only one problem.

You don't know how to confess.

You know you were probably gonna be rejected. All Kageyama thinks about is volleyball after all. His head is a volleyball. So having romantic feelings for anyone or anything except the sport? Impossible. It's unlikely to never happen at all. You're pretty sure he'll marry the sport. So confessing? Hah. No way.

That was before Love Alarm anyway.

You figured Kageyama would have one. So, you thought of a plan to confess without him actually knowing that it's you.

Slowly approaching him, you gulped nervously. You saw Hinata approaching as well. Great, ok. If his Love Alarm rings, he'll probably think it's Hinata or something. Good.

You kept on walking, and walking, and walking. Until you heard an alarm ring. Kageyama's eyes widened as his eyes darted around until it landed on you. Your eyes widened then you fled the scene. Flustered and beet red.

Welp, there goes your friendship with him down the drain.

"Woah! My Love Alarm rang!" Hinata exclaimed happily as his eyes searched for the one who had feelings for him. "Ah! Who could it be?! I still haven't figured it out yet!" Kageyama released an annoyed sound at that. He couldn't believe it. You? You liked the dumbass? Surely you can do better than that.

Kageyama paused. Well that explains everything then.

The way you 'sneakily' glance at Hinata whenever him and that tangerine practice, or the way you act differently around him as well. Kageyama hated the fact that you seemed a lot calmer when you're with Hinata, you radiated a different aura too. But with him, you seemed nervous, always stuttering and being polite.

He glared at Hinata, who was currently daydreaming about the one who rang his Love Alarm, then stomped off.

He certainly wasn't setting to that tangerine dumbass today.

Meanwhile you were panicking behind the bushes as you watched Kageyama get angry from afar. Oh shit. He certainly didn't like that. Judging from his expression, he seemed repulsed by it. Cringing a little, you sighed and walked away.

Avoiding him it is then.

—

The past few days, you stayed dejected and it showed. Yachi worried about you and went into mother hen mode everytime she was near you. Though you appreciated the gesture, it didn't lift your spirits at all. Your mind kept recalling the disgusted look on Kageyama's face and the hatred within his eyes. You sighed and banged your head on your desk. Idiot. You're an idiot. A complete idiot. A greater idiot than Hinata.

You avoided Kageyama completely. You made sure you never crossed paths with him. You stopped buying milk from the vending machine too, opting to buy some at the Sakonoshita store on your way to school. You also took another route to get to the gym the girl's volleyball team uses. All of those in hopes that Kageyama wouldn't find you.

"Yachi-san. I'm sorry but I'm not in the mood to go over some notes today. Please leave me alone for a while." You said once you felt a presence infront of you. You were alone in the classroom until said presence came over. Silence came after. Yachi didn't say a word as you burried your head further in your desk—if that was even possible. You were about to tell her off when suddenly two Love Alarms rang, catching the attention of some passerbys.

Your head shot up once you realized what happened. Your Love Alarm rang. Who could it possibly—?

There they were. Looking as shocked as you are. Infront of you sat Kageyama, who had just turned his Love Alarm on. Neither of you said a word for a while and just looked at each other. Holy shit. Kageyama... Kageyama likes you too? How could he? Doesn't he hate you? How? What the fuck?

"I was right..." Kageyama stated making you confused. Right about what? You liking him? "This app truly is a scam." And with that Kageyama took off, leaving you in the room.

A scam?

Doesn't that mean...?

Oh.

He doesn't like you.

You knew it. You knew it, and yet you hoped he would reciprocate your feelings. What a dumbass you were. Giving yourself false hope. Looking for a sign that he might like you back.

What a fucking dumbass.

What a fucking dumbass, Kageyama was. Surely this app is fake, right?

No, it wasn't.

The app was right.

He had feelings for you.

Do you have feelings for him? If you didn't, his Love Alarm wouldn't ring, right? Besides, you two were the only ones in the classroom. So it couldn't be someone else. But surely you don't like him and Hinata right?

Right?

Kageyama groaned. Feelings are hard to deal with and this Love Alarm just made it harder.

"Oi! Kageyama!" Speaking of the tangerine devil, Hinata appeared with Yachi in tow. "I know who rang my Love Alarm now! It was Yachi-san!"

What?

What?

It was Yachi?

Not you?

Oh, he was certainly gonna confess to you later.

—

"Y/n." A blueberry volleyball maniac blocked your way while you were heading to the volleyball gym. You looked down, not meeting his eyes. After what happened earlier, you didn't want to see Kageyama ever again. You feared that Kageyama would chew you out and slap your so called friendship on your face. You feared that he'll wash everything you shared down the drain. You feared whatever his response may be. You dreaded this. You didn't want to interact with him yet but it seemed that the universe had some other plans with you and Kageyama.

"Here." A milk carton appeared in your sight. Upon closer inspection, you saw Kageyama's messy writing on it. "Take it."

"Is this some kind of a 'sorry-but-I'm-rejecting-you' gift? Because if it is, then I don't want it Kageyama. I don't want your pity."

"It's not." Kageyama replied before shoving the milk carton in your hands. "Just read it."

Sighing in defeat, you read the words Kageyama wrote on the carton.

'Thank you for ringing my Love Alarm.'

"What's this? Why are you thanking me?" You voiced out your thoughts. "Aren't you mad? You seemed mad when I rang your Love Alarm near the gym last week."

"I was mad." Kageyama answered your question making your shoulders slump. Upon seeing your dejected state, Kageyama frowned. He hated seeing you like this. He just wanted you to smile shyly at him again. Or invite him to the vending machine and waste lunch time chatting away about some random topic. He just wanted things to be back to normal. Maybe he even wants to date you. "But it wasn't because you rang my Love Alarm."

Before you can even ask him about it, he continued speaking. "I was mad because I thought you rang Hinata's Love Alarm." Your eyes widened at that. It was Hinata's Love Alarm that rang that time? It wasn't his? How could that possibly be? It was Kageyama you liked, not Hinata. "Turns out, Yachi-san's the one who rang his alarm. She was behind him that time. They confessed earlier." Oh. So, that's why Yachi left in a rush.

"Why didn't your Love Alarm rang that time then? Didn't you have it turned on?"

"I still haven't downloaded the app. I didn't believe in it. But now that I know it's not a scam, don't avoid me anymore. Come back and drag me to the vending machine every lunch." Your heart thumped once again. "Let's even get meat buns from Coach after practice." Does this mean what you think it does?

"Are...Are you asking me out or...?"

"Of course I am, dumbass. Is that a yes?"

"It sure is."

#kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama x reader #haikyuu!! reader insert #haikyuu!! #hinata shoyo #kageyama tobio #yachi hitoka #LOVE ALARM AU! #kageyama/reader #kageyama tobio/reader #reader insert #hinata x reader #he needs sum milk #JK #i love my hq peeps

[peachiekoo]

One Beep || JJK

“I think it’s unfair that we can’t do anything about what our heart want.”

⇢ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader ⇢ Genre: Angst; Fluff; Romance ⇢ Warning(s): Hints of divorce, slight flashbacks to dark past moments, denialism at certain points ⇢ Word Count: 2.04K ⇢ Posted: April 10, 2020 ⇢ A/n: Hey, so I made a fic based off of a show I’ve watched recently called “Love Alarm”. It has since became one of my favorite k-dramas! I’m extremely happy that this idea suddenly came to me. (I deadass don’t think I’ve ever been this hyped to write a fic) I hope you guys enjoy and also there might grammar mistakes which I sincerely apologize for!

Everything that happened was an accident actually.

Maybe everything would’ve been fine if you only went to class at least a good two minutes later. All of it could’ve been avoided if you weren’t trying to go run an errand for a friend. But then again, who knows?

It was a Monday morning at exactly 7:50 am when you got a text from one of your closest childhood friends, Chaeyoung.

[7:50 am] Chae🍊: bubs,, where r u??

[7:50 am] You: studying in the library

[7:52 am] You: why?

[8:01 am] Chae🍊: do you think you could drop off my paper to ms.eve? i left it in your bag

[8:01 am] You: rn?

[8:03 am] Chae🍊: I mean,,, I would appreciate if you did

[8:03 am] Chae🍊: <3

You sighed and rolled your eyes. Classic Chae move, you thought to yourself. You closed the book you had checked out beforehand as you neatly placed it in your bag before you looked for her paper.

Finally, finding the paper slightly wrinkled, you made your way to the exit. You decided to take the shorter way than the usual way since you wanted to quickly get back to studying again before heading towards your next class.

While walking, you were busying yourself with your phone. Looking at a few unread messages and scrolling on twitter before you heard a group of people discussing a new app. 

It wasn’t your intention to eavesdrop but something one of them mentioned was an app that could tell if someone had a crush on anyone in a 10-meter radius.

“Unbelievable,” you scoffed quietly.

You continued walking past them as you decided to search up about it when you were recommended an app, LoveBeep. You chuckled at it. Do people really believe this? From the app details it’s popular at the moment. Are people just that gullible.

You were so engrossed by the app that you didn’t even see the tall figure in front of you. “Sorry! I-” Your sentence stops in the tip of your tongue when you realize who it is. He reaches a hand out for you without even throwing a second glance at you.

It was Jeon Jungkook. You two were never once friends but you shared a few good past memories together as your mom used to babysit him every once in awhile growing up. Now he probably wants nothing to do with you.

You felt your heart race in anxiousness. You quickly grabbed his hand and pulled yourself up before dusting yourself off and heading towards the main reason you were on the floor anyways.

You suddenly stopped though. You turned on your heels before gently tapping him on the shoulders. He looked at you with an annoyed look shadowing over his face.

“I’m sorry.” you sputtered.

All you heard was an annoyed sigh before he faced all the way towards you. He glared down at you. You felt as if you were shrinking, both mentally and physically. You watch him softly chuckling before he turned his gaze back to you.

“I don’t want your dirty ass apology, Y/n. Your mom has already enough,” He spits. “Why are you apologizing for what your mom did? Did you have any part in it? You pity me don’t you.”

You took a few steps back unconsciously before he grabbed your arm and pulled you close. He placed his mouth over your ear. “The fact that you constantly try to fix your mom’s dirty deeds is annoying. She should be able to feel the pain that she’s given others.”

Your eyes water at that for yet, he wasn’t wrong. She did bad things, but that didn’t make her a bad person. You pushed the boy off of you with resentment in your gaze.

It was silent for a moment before your voice broke it. “You know nothing. Nothing at all. You think you got it all figured out don’t you,” you hissed. “Don’t you!” you raved.

You felt the burning tears sliding down your cheeks. “I’ve tried so hard to be generous to you. Do you think I wanted things to be like this? Do you think you’re the only going through things?” you declared. “Go to hell, Jeon!” you shouted before storming off.

Finally, dropping the papers off, you continued on with the rest of your day. Doing your very best to avoid the brown-haired boy at all costs.

It was a late night, you were bundled under your covers. You looked across the room to see a Chaeyoung peacefully asleep in her own bed. You sighed as you rolled into another position so you could finally go to sleep but it seemed nearly impossible no matter how hard you tried.

You looked over at your phone and you remembered that ridiculous app from earlier. You grabbed it from the nightstand before typing the name into the app store before downloading

Once it was finished downloading, you inspect med the app. The first thing to pop up was a loading screen that displayed tips about the app. Once it finished loading you were introduced to a welcome sign before it faded out into 3 rings with a zero in the middle of them.

It seemed fake. Like an app, a seven-year-old girl would download to try to find her imaginary prince charming. Nevertheless, it still intrigued you. You stayed up the rest of the night trying to find out more about before you crashed around 4 am.

A few months later, it finally starting to begin spring. The incident with Jeon is far in the back of year head as you sit on the bench and enjoy the warm air and the few blows of cool air surrounding you as you took a considerable bite out of your apple, listening to Chaeyoung as she rants about her latest “life problems”.

You feel content for the first time in a while. You feel in your gut it won’t last for long though. You inhale a deep breath to just take the moment in. You let your eyes flutter closed for a second, reassuring Chaeyoung that you’re still listening to her.

Suddenly you hear your phone beep. You look at the notification to see from LoveBeep, saying exactly, “Someone in a 10-meter radius loves you”. You were just about to put your phone back since it wasn’t like it was the first time it had beeped before but you had felt a certain urge to look up.

You looked up to see Jungkook walking past you with a friend. You were just about to ignore the occurrence when you realize, he was, in fact, within a 10-meter radius when your phone buzzed. You felt your cheeks tingling at that.

No, it wasn’t him. It can’t be him. You convinced yourself. You’re in a school, there are tons of other students within a 10-meter radius of you. He was also walking with a friend meaning it could’ve been him.

The incident could’ve been easily ignored if for the past few passing you had with him within the last month didn’t result in your phone beeping. Every. Single. Time.

You kept trying to ascertain that it was another reason for this but what really got you was when you were in art class early, drawing a few sketches to waste time. You had felt your phone vibrate as you got other notification from LoveBeep. You had heard the door open before you turned your attention over to where the sound was made.

It had fully hit you. Jungkook is the one beeping you.

You were currently waiting by the exit of the school since Chae was taking way more longer than expected oddly since it was normally you that was always late.

The majority of the students had already left school, only a few people walking around which you assumed was for the after school clubs. You decided on going into the school to go find her when you saw the boy down the hall.

“Jungkook, we need to talk,” you said as you walked up to him. You felt your phone vibrate again in your pocket before you let out a sigh.

“What?” he asked nonchalantly. He looked up at you like you were, in fact, wasting his time.

You tilted your head at him slightly look at him straight in his eyes. You just wanted to get it over with.

How can he act so damn rude yet still have feeling for you? Seems kinda fucked up.

“Listen, I don’t wanna be here just as much as you,” you smirked at him. “I know you like me, Jeon.” All you heard in reply was bluff of air coming through his sealed lips.

He rebuked, “What in the actual fuck are you talking about? You genuinely think I out of all fucking people would like you?”

Annoyed, you pulled out your phone and went directly Into the app.

“Then what is this?”

“An app.”

“What app jackass.”

“LoveBeep obviously.”

“Okay, and what does it say.”

“I’m not reading that you can do it yourself.”

You groaned in annoyance. “Are you just that fucking difficult?” You shot the phone right in his face. “You like me.” You disputed

“You’re gonna believe an app?” he yapped through tight lips. An obvious thick tension in the air had you fidgeting with your school skirt. The reality of it hit you.

This dickhead, the one who is steadily hateful towards you. The one who you once were close with. Yet, he is someone who had a full reason to hate. Not hurting any less though.

You hated him. But you loved him. Not in the cheesy ‘I’m in love with my enemy’ type of way. But the ‘You and me against the world’ type of way. A platonic love that was now one-sided from something which you strictly blame on yourself no matter how many times you tell yourself otherwise.

Your mood suddenly turning more sour at the realization, you mutter out a barely audible “Why?” before keeping your gaze with his eyes.

“You are so sick and twisted. I know she fucked up everything but you just let it out on me and then when I feel like I did it you have then you yell at me about why am I trying to fix shit that I didn’t do. It’s because of you!” you exploded.

Not stopping there, you step to up still maintaining the connected glare as you continue on. “Then you have the fucking audacity to like me? What the fuck is wrong with you.” You wept, your emotions finally overpowering you. You were so filled with anger but it was useless because there was nothing you could do about it. “It’s so unfair you can live your life like this while I’m just here.” you ended.

“Live my life like this? My parents aren’t even in the same fucking country because of her and you think your life is tough because I developed unwanted feelings for you?” He argued.

Anger flurrying through you, your arm flung at him involuntarily, slapping him in the process. “You don’t know everything!” you screeched tear stains down your cheeks before storming off.

As you were walking off, you heard him yell out to you causing you to stop. “I think it’s unfair that we can’t do anything about what our heart wants,” You heard him let out an emotionless chuckle. “If we could do you think I would like someone as low as you?” he deadpanned before listening to his footsteps walk off.

“Fuck you, Jungkook.” you gritted out before continuing on. Deciding on going home, you decided to text Chaeyoung ahead of time.

[4:51 pm] You: im gonna walk home early

[4:51 pm] Chae🍊: ? did something happen :(

[4:55 pm] Chae🍊: y/n???

[4:56 pm] You: can we talk about it later please

[4;56 pm] Chae🍊: ofc bubs

[4;57 pm] Chae🍊: do you want me to order your favorite takeout when i get home?

[4:57 pm] You: yes pls

And that was the last time you had any interaction with Jungkook.

a/n: I hope you enjoy this series!

#bts x reader #jungkook smut #bts jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #bts smut #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook #bts #bts scenerios #jungkook #jungkook scenarios #jungkook reaction #jungkook x you #bts x you #bts imagines #bangtan fanfic #enemies to lovers #bts angst #jungkook angst #peachiekoo #one beep #jjk smut #jjk x reader #namjoon smut #seokjin smut #yoongi smut #hoseok smut #jimin smut

[imanativeofswlondondahling]

Becoming A Stark? (10)- Peter Parker x Stark! femReader

Word Count- 2157

Warnings- swearing, that’s it I think

Chapter One || Previous Chapter || Master List

Tony is waiting in the car with Happy after school on Monday. The paparazzi are loving it. They’re shouting both your’s and Tony’s name, trying to get pictures of the father/ daughter duo. You on the other hand are not loving it. Especially after he came home with a busted up Iron Man suit the other night, not willing to explain anything, and then left to spend almost the entire weekend at the Compound. “Why are you here?” You ask as you climb into the back seat.

“Oh I am great. It’s so good to see you too.” He ignores the question you ask and you roll your eyes. The mood he’s in reminds you of the person you met back when he told you you were moving in with him and you once again hate it.

“Fine, whatever, don’t explain anything. You’re shit at that too.” You pull out your phone, expecting Happy to start driving, but the car stays in one place. “Are we going?”

“Waiting on one more thing.” Tony says as Peter walks up to the car.

“Uh hi Mr. Stark, Y/N.” Your eyebrows furrow together as he gets into the car with you and your dad. “Thanks for the ride, but I really could have taken the subway to the lab.”

“I think he personally vendetta against the subway.” You say with another roll of your eyes. Peter smirks, remembering your conversation from the other day. You’re personally relieved that someone else is in the car so you don’t have to have an awkward ride with Tony, but at the same time, Tony and Peter- not quite the ride you wanted either.

“So how was MSST today?” Tony asks looking at both of you.

“The usual.” You reply, not wanting to give him anything.

“Pretty good.” Peter responds.

“How about German Y/N? Learn anything interesting today?” Oh he wants to play that game does he?

“I don’t know, how was Germany? See anything interesting there?” Peter looks at Mr. Stark over your head trying to figure out how much you know, but he gives Peter nothing.

“Just the usual Avenger stuff. But seeing as you seemed to have not gone to your lesson on Friday, I would think today would have been interesting.” So he knows you skipped, big deal. Instead of replying, you just shrug and put your attention on your phone. You can play the insolent teenager when you want to. “FRIDAY power off Y/N’s phone except for essential functions.” Your screen goes dark apart from your blood sugar readings.

“Really?” You meet his eyes. “You wanna do this now?”

“I’m trying to have a conversation with you.”

“No you’re trying to bring up stuff that happened while you were too busy off being an Avenger. Pepper already talked to me about it. Like family does.” It’s a low blow sure, but you’re feeling pissed off now. “But you would have known that if you hadn’t spent all weekend with your precious Avengers instead of at home with your family.” You spit the words at him.

“The Avengers are family.”

“Yours maybe. But you’ve been preaching at me about how you want to get to know me better. Then every chance you get you turn around and then leave. If you didn’t want me, you should have left me with Nana and Pops. Now you’re being rude to Peter. Talk to him. ‘Cause I’m done.” You cross your arms and won’t look at him.

“This is far from done.” Tony says. “You don’t get to throw at me that I don’t want you and then expect me to turn around and not to rebuttal it. Because that is the farthest thing from the truth.”

“Yeah? Because every time I call you, worried about you nonetheless, you tell me it’s not a good time or that you’re busy. You promise you’ll be home in twenty-four hours from a mission, then three days go by and I don’t even get a phone call telling me that something happened. I had to find out from other people, who won’t even tell me what happened. Then you come home in a busted up Iron Man suit, again won’t explain anything, but then turn around and spend the rest of the weekend at the Compound. That definitely screams that you want me. Shove me off on your girlfriend and your head of security. That doesn’t make me feel like I’m a burden to you at all. You won’t come to me unless I’m literally dying. Is that what needs to happen? I need to be actually dying to get the tiniest bit of attention? Because if that’s the case, being a Stark isn’t fucking worth it.” The words explode out of you and you can’t stop them. “You said you’re not the best at having a kid either, but you’re going to try your very best at it. This seems the farthest from that. And before you apologize for fucking up again, just know there’s only so many times you can say that before it loses it’s affect.”

Tony takes a breath before speaking, “you’re right. I did fuck up again. When you lay everything out, I’m doing a shit job again. But I promise you, you’re not a burden. You’re wanted in this family. I love you. Pep loves you. Happy, well I won’t speak for him, but I’m pretty sure he loves you too.”

“You’re loved kid.” Happy says from the front seat. “Sometimes more than the big guy. He just pays the bills.”

“Thanks Happy.” You didn’t mean to take your frustrations out on one of the people that has been here for you since all of this started. Peter notices the differences in how Happy acts with you, must be because you’re Tony’s kid.

“Definitely do not pull that dying stunt again because I have a heart condition and I can’t take seeing you in the med bay again. Ok? No you don’t have to be dying to get the little bit of attention, but Rhodey got badly injured.”

“Rhodey is injured? Is he ok?” You may have said the Avengers weren’t your family, but they are. And now you’re worried about your Uncle Rhodey- whoa where did that come from?

“He’s going to have to make some adjustments but he’s going to live. I was trying to make sure he was ok- or well trying to make him better than ok this weekend and I should have done a better job explaining that to you before I ran off. I’m still learning how to be a dad kiddo. And I’m going to break some eggs before I make an omelette.” Peter’s watching this interaction between you and your dad. It’s a whole different side to Mr. Stark. One who owns up to things when he’s done wrong but also wants to be better.

“Fine, but I better get an omelette in the end.” You say, only slightly kidding.

“You tell me what toppings you want and I’ll make sure you get it.” Tony says.

“Also give me my phone functions back,” You say before adding a please to the end.

“FRI turn her phone back on.” Tony says before adding, “You want to put some music on Y/N?”

“From my only subpar choices?” You tease him before asking FRIDAY to turn on your June playlist, even though the songs are getting a little old. But your top three playlists at the moment are June, I Hate My Life and Tony Stark Can Rot. The latter two you’re not going to ask FRIDAY to play in front of Peter, so June it is. House Of The Rising Sun by The Animals starts playing as Tony turns his attention towards Peter, who has fallen into the background as you and Tony had your argument.

“Sorry you had to witness that Mr. Parker, but as I mentioned to you in one of our other other conversations, she is very important to me, hence her education is very important to me. Can’t have her skipping class you know?”

“Of course not sir.” Peter’s eyebrows pull together and you stifle a laughter that is threatening to break free.

“Something funny kiddo?” Tony asks, eyeing you.

“Oh nothing. Social media. Yeet or be yeeted out there these days.”

“I think it’s actually yeet or be yoted.” Peter teases you.

“I disagree, good sir.” You tease back.

“I don’t know what this is that you’re talking about, but back to me.” Tony says from the other side of the car. “Now Peter, you’re a year ahead of Y/N correct?”

“Yes Mr. Stark.”

“Can you explain to her why science should be her favorite subject? Because I have tried a number of times and it has not hit home yet.”

“I uh- don’t think I can convince her of that.” Peter messes with the earbuds dangling from the neck of his shirt.

“You better be careful Dad, he might try to convince me to go to the dark side.”

“I’m sorry, the dark side?” Tony’s eyes go dark, staring Peter down, although he has no idea either where you’re going with this.

“Star Wars fan fiction. Super dark place.” You tease, not even looking up from your phone. “You should be proud, he offered and I said no. Can’t be going to the dark side at this point in time. What kind of legacy is that?”

“I swear I did no such thing. I actually said it would be no place for her, sir.” Peter throws his hands up. “I thought you were my friend Y/N. Friends don’t throw friends under buses like this.”

“I don’t think I like the two of you hanging out.” Your dad points a finger at the two of you.

“You wouldn’t take away one of the few friends I have would you?” You say looking at your dad with as close to puppy dog eyes as you can manage. 

“Fine, I surrender. You can stay friends with Mr. Parker for right now. But no more threatening to go to the dark side, of any kind.” You laugh and turn back to scrolling through your phone. 

You’ve scrolled Twitter and Instagram. You’re not going to risk Tumblr with Peter sitting next to you, so guess that means time to catch up on all your Snapchat streaks. Flipping over to the filters, you want to see what new ones there are today. The first couple have been there for the past few days, the puppy, the bear ears with glasses, and the heart ones. But then you spy one that makes you laugh. And it does say try it with friends. “Dad you have to try this with me.” You show him your screen as the Iron Man mask falls over your face and War Machine falls over his.

“No. I am Iron Man. Not Rhodey!” He practically shrieks. 

“What’s wrong with being Uncle Rhodey?” You ask, not realizing it’s the first time the words leave your mouth.

“Nothing is wrong with being him. I just look better in red and gold. Fix it.” 

“Download the app yourself. I have my own streaks to send.” You flip over to one of the other filters and your dad watches over your shoulder.

“No. Who are you sending that to?”

“Betty? We have a two hundred and thirty three day streak?” You explain.

“Pick a different filter.”

“Why?” 

“Because you look fine as you are. You don’t need all these beauty filters dressing you up.” Tony couldn’t voice that he didn’t like the fact that it was making you look way older than you needed to be.

“You’re overreacting. Peter, what do you think?” You show him the snap.

“Uh you look nice no matter what Y/N. But I think the Iron Man one is way cooler.” Peter says.

“Ugh you guys are the worst.” You retake the picture with the Iron Man filter and send it to Betty.

“Much better.” Your dad says. “Now how do I get a streak with you?”

“You aren’t cool enough to have a streak with me.” He places his hand over his heart. 

“Ouch you wound me so kiddo.”

“Right back at you.” You send pictures to your other streaks before you see a request for a new friend on Snapchat- peter_p has friended you. You hit accept and send him a similar Iron Man filtered pic. Peter surprises you with a pic of your dad with the War Machine filter over him that you screen grab before the time runs out. You set it as your dad’s caller ID photo, and can’t help when the giggle escapes your mouth. 

“What’s so funny?” Tony asks, trying to look at your phone.

“Nothing.” You and Peter both say, which definitely doesn’t convince Tony. 

“I’m never letting the two of you ride together again.”

Becoming A Stark Tag list: @persephonehemingway  @iamaunicorn4704  @furiouspockettoad  @daughter-of-stark  @eternalharry  @huntective-kyeo @riiis-stuff @sunnyoongles @cosmicqueenieb @sovereignparker @bbarnestan

Permanent tag list: @wormonastringonastick

#peter parker #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker fan fiction #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fan fic #Tony Stark #tony stark can't be dead if you just don't let yourself believe it #tony stark daughter #tony stark x daughter!reader #tony stark x daughter!you #happy hogan #Pepper Potts #peter parker imagine #imanativeofswlondondahling #becoming a stark?

[sombreboy]

Love Maze »15

Previous  » Next Series Masterlist ▎ 18+ ▎ pairing: Taehyung x Jungkook ▎ genre: School AU, crack humor, smut, angst, ETL, slow burn, fluff. ▎ word count: 8.1k ▎ ch.warnings: cursing, homophobic slurs (censored), angst, they have another argument smh these boys never catch a fucking break

Co-writer: @velvetwicebang​​​ ♡♡♡

The early morning’s blinding rays invited themselves in through the curtain cracks in Jungkook’s bedroom, landing on a sleeping Taehyung’s puffy face.

The elder’s distracting snoring bounced off the walls of the room, not bothersome to him as he peacefully slept through the noise. Honestly, it was a surprise how much Jungkook was immune to the sound..

The one noise that always did manage to wake Taehyung up, however, was the familiar ringing of that goddamn alarm clock.

As per usual, Tae went through his daily routine consisting of whining about how he’d been pulled out of his slumber, begging Jungkook for a few more minutes, cursing out early morning practices.. same old.

“I’m gonna skip out on showering this morning..” Taehyung drowsily mumbled into the pillow, desperately seeking for a few extra minutes. His body was sore, and Taehyung was one of those people who needed eight hours of sleep.

“Wake me up when you’re done, will you?” A small pause, followed by a raspy, “I love youu~”

Jungkook drowsily turned off the alarm before groaning, for once he didn't actually want to leave his bed.

''You sure?'' he sat up properly, hand reaching over to stroke the elders back carefully, the sudden verbal affection from his boyfriend still surprising-- yet welcomed. It was something the younger needed a little time to get used to, and it made his chest flutter every single time.

''Love you too~'' He cooed back, giving Tae's ass a soft pat before getting out of bed, completely naked from last night. he rummaged through his closet for some clean clothes, stretching the joints in his body before slowly heading towards the bathroom.

Jungkook winced lightly when the hot water hit the scratches on his back, but quickly got used to it as he stood there for a while, washing up and losing himself in his thoughts, everything from what had happened yesterday to Jisoo. He really owed her an apology for not coming back...

When finished, Kook ruffled his wet hair before patting his body mostly dry and throwing on his boxers and sweatpants-- leaving the shirt off to head back to his bedroom. He walks over to the small mirror hanging on the wall, turning his back towards it to check out his back.

''Wow you've got some claws.'' He chuckled before crawling up on the bed to lay down next to Tae again, nuzzling his nose into the elders hair, ''Wake uuup....~''

Taehyung slothfully stirred in his spot, groaning out in groggy distaste when he felt the bed dip, signaling that his boyfriend was out of the shower.

“Yah..” He turned his head to the side, cheek pressed against the pillow whilst his eyelids hung barely open, “you yourself said I have some claws, don’t make me use them..”

Tae contemplated life for a few more seconds before giving in to his boyfriend’s soft pleads, sitting up on the bed with a loud yawn, hands busy rubbing the fatigue out of his eyes.

God, school hadn’t even started and the elder was already dreading stepping into those halls.

''Maybe I liked it..'' Jungkook wrapped his arms around Taehyung to pull him closer into a hug, pecking kisses against his cheeks to annoy him in his sleepy state.

''We have to get ready, like, right now!'' He pressed one last kiss on his lips before getting off the bed, grabbing a snug, black long sleeve to pull over his torso.

Taehyung slowly made his way out of bed, butt-naked as he searched for last night’s clothes.

Thankfully they’ve dried up quite a bit, but the rain’s aroma still lingered in the fabrics.

The elder wasn’t especially thrilled to waltz into school looking.. like, well, put together.

But he didn’t want to bother Jungkook, so black, tight jeans would have to do.

Tae stared at his reflection in the mirror, quickly running his fingers through the waves. He grimaced, nothing seemed to tame the wild curls.

“Fuck it.. let’s go,” the elder fished for the keys in his pocket, throwing on his shoes— double-knotting the laces like always.

Once he got in his car, Taehyung nearly had a heart attack.

That goddamn stuffed animal. It was smiling at him through the rear view mirror.

Shit, he still didn’t know what to do with it.. did Jungkook still want it? Does he throw it in the dumper?

Maybe he’d give it to Jisoo, something told him that Yuna would love it..

Jungkook quickly followed, ignoring the fact that the bear was mockingly smiling at him as well as he sat down. He clicked the seatbelt on before patting Taehyung's thigh reassuringly.

"Don't worry too much. I'm not angry anymore, okay?" He nudges his chin towards the bear.

"I don't really want it...." he felt kind of bad for saying it, but he knew he wouldn't be able to stand staring at it after what it is associated with.

"But we could give it to noona?" He mused-- he still owed her a fucking apology. Maybe this would serve as an apology...

"Anyway...don't worry about that. Let's go." Jungkook sunk into his heat, eyes focusing back ahead.

Taehyung sighed, but nodded nonetheless. He didn’t blame the younger for not wanting to keep the stuffed animal. Truth be told, Tae himself wouldn’t be fully comfortable with seeing its cheery face every time he visited Jungkook’s apartment.

One, it was creepy as fuck. And secondly, it was a mere reminder of his selfish doings.

Taehyung just... he wanted to move past that. He wanted to do better, for his boyfriend.

“Yeah,” he started the car, “noona’s kid would probably like it.”

~

Practice was over in the flutter of an eye— thankfully. Tae didn’t know how much more physical activity he was able to bear with a noticeably sore ass. It was a blessing that he managed to keep his nonchalant facade intact for so long. Trying to act like his boyfriend didn’t just make sweet love to him last night was hard..

Sweaty from working out, Taehyung briskly stripped out of his practice attire, using his jersey to wipe at the dampness on his glistening neck.

“Tae, should I be concerned?,” Hoseok looked, well, concerned.

“What’s up with the giant teddy bear in the back of your car?”

“Yeah, Chim and I saw that too.” Yoongi casually chimed in, pointing over at a half-naked Jimin who was busy typing away on his phone, deaf to the chatter surrounding him.

Taehyung—who was growing annoyed by the topic of that stupid bear— simply brushed it off. “it’s for a friend. She has a little girl, so..”

As if knowing exactly whom it was for, Namjoon defeatedly shrunk in his spot, too much of a wuss to make eye-contact with Jungkook.

He wondered if the younger was still mad..

Sitting in their usual lunch table, they talked about a plethora of topics. However, the newest conversation specifically aimed at Jimin; everyone wanting to know what was keeping the latter so invested.

“What’s got you so hooked on that phone, Chim?”

“More like who..” Hoseok teasingly nudged at his friend’s side, encouraging him to spill it out. Jimin was extremely defiant at first, but his hyung’s loud presence wasn’t something you could just ignore.

“Nothing.. it’s stupid, but— long story short, I downloaded a dating app.”

A series of “oo’s” traveled around the table.

“Oh yeah? Did you meet a girl or something?”

Jimin turned to look at Namjoon, expression so distraught yet.. confident. With a soft exhale, he corrected the elder.

“Actually.. It's a him. His name’s Mino.”

Taehyung abruptly stopped chewing on his cereal, sharing a curt glance with his boyfriend.

“Mino..” Jin pondered out loud, “like the rapper from WINNER?”

“Obviously not, hyung.” The younger rolled his eyes, a bit frightened by the lack of words.

Seeming to notice his distress, Yoongi softly encouraged Jimin to expand on it further— after asking if every single one of his friends were gay.

“I don’t know, we’ve only talked for a few hours.. but he’s really cool. Sweet, too— oh, and he’s also obsessed with strawberries, just like you Tae!”

The boy’s eyes lit up at the topic, obvious to all he had a massive crush.

“Yeah? What else do you know about the guy.” Taehyung took a bite of his strawberry, interested in knowing more.

Finally growing more comfortable, Jimin’s shy smile resurfaced.

“Uhm.. he’s twenty-three, and he teaches little kids. How cute is that? He’s into video games, if I remember correctly.. Animal Crossing is his favorite. Halsey! He enjoys listening to her music... also, he’s really pretty.”

“Damn, Jimin. Just marry the guy already..” Jin snickered.

“Chim’s whipped.”

The subject of the matter pouted, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Am not.. it’s just— ah, he texted me!”

Taehyung snorted in amusement, shaking his head before looking at Jungkook.

“Wish you’d text me more. You’re a horrible texter, you know.”

Jungkook's eyes had been balling back and forth during the conversations, from half-glaring at Namjoon (even if he'd calmed down, honestly--Namjoon was just a clutz. She seemed fine... he hoped.), to his gaze softening at the way Jimin was swooning over his new crush-- a boy, even!... The way his eyes lit up was heartwarming.

Then, during his entire daydream, Taehyungs words burst his little bubble. The younger breathes out a chuckle through his nose, nudging his boyfriend back.

''Why would I text you when you're with me every day?'' He wrapped an arm around Taes shoulder to pull him closer with his strong arm-- from any outsider it would simply look friendly. ''Or do you miss me that bad during class too?''

 Taehyung kept his eyes trained on the tray in-front of him, mindlessly picking at his cereal as a distraction from Jungkook’s hold.

Now that their friends knew about their relationship, they didn’t miss the opportunity to coo at the couple-y sight.

As a natural response, his cheeks got stained with a rosy pop of color. Tae shrugged out of his boyfriend’s grasp, though, a petty attempt to seem unfazed.

“Duh..” He sassed, aggressively munching on his buttered toast.

“Why else would I send ‘everyone here sucks, kinda wish you were here’ texts? And you know how you repay my affection? By leaving me on read.”

Taehyung childishly huffed, coming across as needy for the younger’s attention.

Jungkook withdrew his arm and flashed a toothy grin towards the elder, shrugging as well in response.

''I will reply next time, promise.''

He glanced at the clock, ignoring the repeated cooes from his hyungs.

''Speaking of class, it's almost time to go,'' He nudges his boyfriend once more.

''I'll make sure to check my phone often then, but don't expect me to be glued onto it like Jimin..'' He jokes, the rest of the group snickering-- however Jimin remained unfazed, too caught up in his own little bubble that is his cellphone.

As they all separated to go to their respective classes, Jungkook sat down by his desk, placing his cellphone by his stack of books, only paying the lecture half of his attention as the other half was constantly glancing over at his device. This time he would reply.

A few minutes into the lecture, Taehyung already had his cellphone in his hands.

His boyfriend’s contact was displayed on the screen, a picture he snuck of Jungkook sleeping set as the younger’s profile.

Biting at the corner of his bottom lip, he began typing away, curious to see how fast it’d take Jungkook to reply.

To: Kook🐰🤟🏼 i’m trying to pay attention in class but my ass is still sore 😒 be glad I love your big dick just as much as I love you 😙

Jungkook picked his phone up much quicker than he'd like to admit, swiping the one sided wall of previously sent texts sent by his boyfriend. The last text received made the younger's cheeks flush in pink along with the small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

He immediately began tapping at his screen, a foreign concept to everybody who caught a glance at jungkook in the classroom.

To: Tae🐯💜 Haha... you took it pretty well. Maybe next time you can give me the same treatment🥴 now I can't pay attention either... love you!

The elder chuckled— a bit too loudly, but he brushed it off as a cough.

To: Kook🐰🤟🏼 maybe.. 😏 if you keep replying I might just have to give you a big surprise

Taehyung sat his phone down, but the emptiness in his hands didn’t last long. Soon enough, he was back to texting Jungkook.

Tae wasn’t fully pleased, the sudden drive to see his boyfriend was too overpowering to ignore.

To: Kook🐰🤟🏼 actually, meet me in the secret spot behind the school?? ‘m needy for a kiss

“Uhm, Mrs. Jung?” Everyone’s head swiveled towards Taehyung, “can I use the restroom?”

The elderly teacher seemed to think about it for a while, the creases in her forehead wrinkling even further as she visibly frowned.

“Sure. But be quick.”

The boy nodded, sliding back on his chair before practically jogging out of the classroom, excited to hold his boyfriend.

Jungkook held his promise of replying once, but didn't even bother sending anything else, his phone shoved back into his pocket as he excused himself. As soon as he left the classroom, he too sprinted towards the hidden spot behind the building. If he had this kind of speed during practice, he surely would have been deemed the golden maknae all over again.

Jungkook rocked on his feet as he waited for his boyfriend, actually fishing up his phone for once to send a quick text.

To: Tae🐯💜 I'm here!! come!!! T3T

“Maybe next time I can give you the same treatment, huh?” Taehyung’s cheeky smirk shifted into a genuine smile when he approached Jungkook, teasingly recalling what the younger had sent him over text.

Unable to take the distance for a second longer, Tae ran into his boyfriend’s arms, not wasting any time peppering his face with loud kisses.

Fuck.. Taehyung was the definition of whipped.

Not worried about anyone catching them, the elder slowly drove Jungkook’s back against the rusty wall, lips attached to the younger’s in a gentle kiss.

When he pulled away, Tae’s hooded eyes were drawn to his boyfriend’s face, raking over every little detail.

“You replied,” he broke out into a silly grin, playfully squeezing at Kook’s hips. “You’ve grown~”

Jungkook hummed into the kiss with content, hands reaching up to run his fingers through Tae's messy hair. He obviously didn't even bother fixing it up since last night,

''I kind of get why Jimin can't unglue his phone from his eyes, anticipating a text is dreadful.. I couldn't focus on anything.'' He sighed in a fake dramatic voice, leaning his head back against the wall. His gaze was in complete tunnel vision for his boyfriend, a grin widening on his lips as he proudly announces his terribly awful joke--.

''If you're gonna keep kissing and praising me like that something else will grow.''

Well, it did have some truth in it.

A raspy laugh emitted from the back of Taehyung’s throat, who shook his head in utter disbelief. By the time the hearty sound gradually quieted down, the elder’s tongue swiped over his still swollen lips; which had yet to simmer down from their previous make out session.

“Oh yeah? What else..?”

Taehyung pressed his thigh against Jungkook’s crotch, playing with his boyfriend’s senses whilst he wore a shameless lopsided grin.

“I dunno what you’re talking about.”

He pressed on it harder, somewhat making out the thick shape of the younger’s cock as he faintly moved his leg, practically kneading the spot in between his boyfriend’s legs.

Acting as if he didn’t just do any of that, Taehyung outstretched his arms over his head, holding back his prickling smile.

“The weather’s lovely today, isn’t it?”

 A not so subtle sigh emitted from Jungkook's lips, morphing into a low whine at the way the elders knee massaged his length.

"Oh, fuck off..." he smiled, the light tone of his voice indicating the affection in his curses. His boyfriend surely knew how to tease back-- it must be a revenge from the countless times the younger had teased him first.

"We're gonna end up skipping the entire day if you keep going--" his voice was cut off by another shameless gasp, kooks fingers curling into fists as they grasp Taehyung's shirt to pull him back into a needier kiss, teeth almost clashing together between the heavier breaths, "making me needy" he murmurs his muffled words between their kisses.

Taehyung’s teeth tugged at Jungkook’s bottom lip, lightly nibbling on the soft skin as if asking permission for his tongue to intrude in the pit of warmth. His hands grasp his boyfriend’s waist, roughly manhandling the boy as he pulled him towards his body, deepening his deprived hunger for their kisses.

“Maybe I wanna make you needy.” The elder's velvety voice purred into his ear, one hand placed on the slope of his boyfriend’s nape, drawing him all the more closer.

"But we shouldn't.."

It was too risky, the lust wasn’t worth the hassle.

With a quick glance downwards, Tae’s chuckle rang once more. Their hard-ons were prominently poking at the fabric of their pants and with the little space between them, they inevitably brushed against one another.

“Later tonight. Get ready,” He leaned in to press an innocent kiss on his boyfriend’s cheek, purposely leaning in closer than needed for additional contact, their hardened, clothed cocks pinning together for a teasing second.

“I don’t wanna leavee..” Taehyung groaned in annoyance, finding their alone time to be more entertaining than class.

Jungkook whined in annoyance, a small pout on his lips as his doe eyes stared at Taehyung, "And you call me a tease...." he sighs with a smile, still keeping a tight grip on Taes shirt, hesitant to let go. Eventually, however, he did; instead letting his hands fix Taehyung's mess of a hair once more. Or at least attempt to.

"Let's head back then before I change my mind, I'll drag you to the ground if you even look at me." He scrunch his nose in a giggle, leaning in to kiss his boyfriend on the nose.

Much to their disclosure, they weren’t alone, someone else had been recording their supposedly secret interaction.

What they planned to do with the footage? No one else knew but them. And whatever the outcome was, it wasn’t going to be pretty.

~

The last class of the day was soon done and over with, making Taehyung ecstatic as he hastily packed his things (packing as in shoving his loose pieces of paper in his backpack), aiming towards the door with hurried steps.

Ever since his last interaction with the younger, Tae’s been awfully.. needy.

His sexual hormones were bouncing off the roof, tauntingly chanting ‘Jungkook, Jungkook,’ again and again until that was all he knew.

As Taehyung made his way to the common common area, he shamelessly wondered if his boyfriend would be up for fucking in his crappy car again.

The elder knew he’d said they would wait until tonight, but ‘tonight’ wasn’t right now.

Damn, Tae would love to try out different positions in such a compact space..

It was thrilling.

Oblivious to him, students’ un-welcomed stares dug holes in his back, watching the boy’s every move with utter shock— utter revelation. It was as if they were the camera lens themselves.

There was no way Taehyung was the other guy in the newly surfaced video, right?

Jeon Jungkook was one of them— for sure. He was unknowingly facing the shot, kissing another boy— who appeared to be Tae— with a bunny grin on his beaming face.

The video started with them making out; Jungkook’s doe eyes fluttered shut as Taehyung held him close, head slightly tilted to the side.

The frame zoomed in on the two boys’ comfortable posture, the elder could be seen rubbing his knee against Kook’s crotch, the latter slyly smiling in response.

Then more kissing, Taehyung whispering little things in his boyfriend’s ear..

To wrap things up, the footage cut off at the soft kiss on the elder’s nose, proceeding to zoom in on their tangled hands whilst they walked out of sight.

It was messy.. to everyone else but Taehyung. He waited for Jungkook in the same area as always, brushing off the ill looks thrown his way.

Jungkook hurried from the lecture room as soon as class was dismissed, backpack thrown over one shoulder as he walked in brisk steps through the hallways-- not as oblivious to the drilling looks coming his way. However, he was rather used to it by now-- so it didn't phase him as much as it probably should..

But then again, why? People haven't looked at him that way since he came out... and he rarely checked his phone, so he was completely unknowing of the circling video.

He shrugged it off, heading towards the common area to find his boyfriend idly waiting for him, the younger opted to jog to close the distance between them & nudged Taehyung on the shoulder.

"Hey! Waited long?" He grinned up at Tae, but it quickly faded as he once again noticed the murmurs and looks of basically everybody around them. Jungkook's eyes roamed the room, but decided to let them land back on Taehyung.

"Lets go?" He started to feel weirdly uncomfortable with all the stares, he wanted to get out of there.

As they headed out, a group of guys-- specifically the jocks that had called Jungkook a f*ggot without him knowing to Tae, had started to whistle and throw slurs towards the boys.

"The fairy put you under his spell huh?" One chanted, the others quickly laughing and motioning taking a dick in their mouth, "Hey, Taehyung! Are you the girl or the guy?!" Another snickered.

The more time they spent displayed in the common area like a plague, Taehyung’s natural obliviousness slowly diminished until all he became was hyper aware of his deafening atmosphere. The murmurs were exceptionally quiet, but they hit his ears like breaking glass.

He mindlessly nodded at his boyfriend whilst he challenged the students’ nosy stares with his own, asserting his dominance over the situation as they aimed for the nearest exit.

Unaware of the next obstacle they were going to have to face, Tae hesitantly parted his sealed lips, about to ask Jungkook the burning question they were both thinking— ‘what the hell was that?’— when Kai and his clique approached them with confident strides.

“W-what..?” Very much disoriented, Tae forced out a strained chuckle, “funny..”

The boy tried to play along with their obvious joke, his awkward laughter blending in with the group’s taunting snickers.

“No, dude..” Haechan amusingly corrected, “who takes a dick up the ass? Who’s the girl in the relationship?”

The elder’s chest shriveled up into an uncomfortable knot, and so did his throat as he was barely able to utter back a word.

What..?

“What— what relationship?” He shakily asked, completely disregarding the other foul comment. Glancing over at Jungkook, the look of fright on Taehyung’s face was evident.

“This relationship,” a phone was shoved into their faces, replaying the invasive video that had been going around all day.

It seemed like it would never end..

Taehyung swore he felt his heart drop.

“Uhm—“

“Fucking disgusting if you ask me.”

“N-no.. it’s just..” His breathing was uneven, eyes blown wide as they stared blankly ahead.

Fuck— this was too much too soon.

By now, a small crowd had gathered around them, only adding salt to Taehyung’s aching panic.

“F*ggot!” One of the guys deliberately spat in the elder’s face— not literally, but it sure felt like it.

Tears rushed to the brim of Tae’s eyes, which had yet to decipher into their normal shape.

He was having trouble breathing, clear in the way his chest vigorously heaved in its place. His face was drained of any color, and the buzzing in his ear was getting hard to bear.

Taehyung hadn’t even noticed their close friends had stepped in on their behalf, Yoongi’s vulgar curses sounding like pure gibberish.

He couldn’t move, it was as if he was glued to his place.

Shit, Tae wanted to disappear.

And so did Jungkook. He was frozen in place as he watched the video, their privacy suddenly open for all to see. Not that he was ashamed of them, but because whether this was a secret or not; it was their moment of privacy, invaded.

Kook quickly glanced over at his boyfriend, mouth parting and closing several times as he struggled to find his words, his worry for the elder growing more important than the worry for what everyone else thinks of him.

He wondered what Taehyung felt... even if it was an invasion of their privacy, he seemed ashamed of them. That didn't go unnoticed.

However he decided to shrug it off, instead focusing on getting them the fuck out of there, tugging at Taes arm.

"Come on." He murmured as he pulled the elder with him, grateful for his hyungs shooing everybody away. He'd have to thank them later; but now all he could focus on was taking his boyfriend out of this situation.

After finally being able to pull Taehyung out of his frozen spot, Kook guided him towards a more secluded area next to the school building to wait until the parking lot would be less crowded.

"Hey," Jungkook softly uttered as he cupped Taes cheeks to try to get in contact with him-- he seemed completely out of it. The younger doe eyes were blown wide with concern.

"Hey, it's okay."

Taehyung didn’t believe that for a second.

It wasn’t okay, their relationship was just outed to the whole goddamn school! What.. what if his father finds out one way or another?

What if he gets ridiculed for the rest of his senior year?

The elder forcefully withdrew from the other’s grainy hands, his cheeks beginning to sting from Jungkook’s touch.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you,” was the first thing Taehyung muttered, gripping at his hair in agitation. “I-I shouldn’t have.. fuck!”

More fresh tears rushed to his eyes, glazing over the anger that was still present, raven fringe shielding the hurt they obtained.

Jungkook took a step back like he'd been punched in the gut by Taehyung's reaction, his hands falling limp to his sides as he stared at the male in front of him. Tae was almost unrecognizable in Kook's eyes.

''Wha-- Tae, calm down...'' He took a breath of his own, as if trying to take his own advice and remain calm.. But it was fucking hard, it felt like Taehyung was shoving the blame on them, or him for this.

Jungkook curled his hands into fists, unsure what to do when his growing uncomfort hurled over him. He wanted to hold Taehyung, but the elder didn't seem to even want to touch Jungkook, acting like his touch was comparable to fire.

''Taehyung, sit down--''

“Yeah,” Tae scoffed, “calm down..” he boldly mocked the younger, jaw tightly clenched in its place out of anger. Finally, he shifted his anxiety-drunken gaze to his boyfriend’s dimmed eyes, nostrils flared up as his overwhelming emotions once again got the best of him.

“What the fuck is that gonna do, Jungkook?!” He roared in the boy’s face, remaining composure unwinding with every barbarous word.

“The damage is already done! Great, we’re the f*ggots of our school now.”

Taehyung breathed out a soft, saddened laugh, running his hand down his face in boiling regret.

Shit, how much he wished he could go back in time and prevent this bullshit from happening.

“Wha— you were facing the camera anyways, why didn’t you notice?!”

'F*ggots of our school.'

Another verbal punch thrown into the younger's gut, causing him to flinch at the mocking tone. Now it was Jungkook's turn to feel his anger slowly boiling up in his veins that were growing prominent in his arms through the hard, clenched fists to his sides, nostrils flaring as he took deep breaths.

''Why are you blaming me?! I didn't see anybody!'' His voice no longer had any sign of worry, instead laced with frustration. What the fuck was going on with the sudden, undeserved hostility?

Jungkook took a step closer to his boyfriend. ''It's not the end of the world!'

Taehyung stumbled back a couple steps, ensuring there was a noted distance between them.

“I know it’s not the goddamn end of your world!” He angrily retorted back. “but for my fucked up.. trashy, hell of a world it is!”

The elder’s brittle voice wavered, the veins in his neck significantly strained.

“Jungkook.. if— if my father finds out..” The corner of his lip twitched at the mere thought of his worst nightmare, curtly snapping his head to the side when he felt his eyes sting with more tears. Sadly, Taehyung feared for his well being whenever he was around that monster. If he found out that his son was dating another guy...

The elder didn’t want to think about the possible consequences.

“This is—“

“Hey! Guys, we were looking for you..” Jimin and Seokjin ran towards them, gradually stopping midway when they made out the tense aura oozing off of the wanted pair.

Their postures were rigid, and judging from the look in Taehyung’s face, things weren’t looking too good.

“You can get a ride from them, right? I’m leaving.” The elder left Jungkook on his own, unbothered to wait for a clear answer before walking off towards his car, the tightness in his chest having yet to cease.

“Jungkook..” Jimin hesitantly reached out for his friend, resting his smaller hand on the younger’s shoulder.

Jungkook was left speechless at the sudden turn of events, again.

He hadn't even been able to process what the fuck had just happened-- just an hour ago they were excited to go home together, and now Taehyung left the younger alone without even a single look.

Kook flinched when he felt Jimin's hand on his shoulder, not even registering that they were there until Tae was out of sight.

''I'm gonna... uh, walk home.''

God knows he needed it.

''Jungkook, no, let us drive you?'' Jimin tried, but he knew it was useless. Their youngest was obviously upset-- for good reason probably, and his much needed space was understandable.

''Nah, just-- I need to go.'' Jungkook sighed, glancing over at the worried looks of his hyungs, ''Thank you.''

Without another word, Jungkook threw his backpack over his shoulder and headed towards his apartment, mind constantly replaying the words thrown at him just mere minutes before.

He stepped inside of his apartment, letting his bag fall to the floor along with his jacket, mindlessly kicking off his shoes before slumping down into his couch with a thud, fishing his phone out. He knew he shouldn't, but he pulled up the video circling on the snapchat stories, seeing peoples terrible commentary to the event. Anything from the overused slurs to mocking the two. But what kook truly focused on was the two men in the video, the zoom of their intertwined hands walking off at the end. It hurt to watch-- because he missed Tae’s touch, the mere memory of Taehyung flinching away from his touch made his chest ache.

Should he text him? Jungkook rarely did.. Or did he need time alone? Fuck, he needed to relax. It's fine, right? Like every other fucking time they fought, they'd bounce back.

Jungkook decided to simply put his phone down and go to bed instead, hoping things would have cooled off by tomorrow.

~

Taehyung disregarded the sound of the familiar alarm, letting him know that it was time to get ready for practice.

He barely slept last night, feeling alienated in his spacious bed. Taehyung had gotten too comfortable with Jungkook, even his own bed felt.. strange, like it wasn’t the right fit. His room— in which he’d spent most of his time hiding— didn’t feel the same, either.

With an unpleased groan, Tae blindly followed the dreadful ring with his ears, finally taking his phone into his hand before putting it on silence.

He didn’t want to get bombarded with judgemental stares during the day. He didn’t think he’d be able to handle it. So.. Taehyung didn’t bother to find out for himself. The elder had barely any energy left in him, proved by the way his eyelids threatened to close with every passing second.

~

Jungkook drowsily turned his alarm off as soon as it rang, arm automatically reaching over out of habit towards the empty space next to him. He sighed deeply. So it wasn't just a fucking dream, then.

He wondered what today would be like.

Hopefully Taehyung had calmed down and rationed things.

But, to the younger's surprise-- Taehyung was nowhere to be seen as he stepped into practice. His eyes roamed the court, craning his neck to find the face he wished to see.

''Hey Kook!'' Jimin chimed, hopping towards his younger friend, ''How are you feeling? Are you okay?''

Jimin put an arm around Kook, leading him towards the anticipating group, their eyes flickering between Jungkook and each other.

''Hey, uh..'' Namjoon began, but was quickly interrupted by Yoongi.

''Where's Taehyung?''

Yoongi flinched at the kick on his shin from Hoseok.

''I, uh...I don't know? I thought he'd be here.'' Jungkook shrugged, masking his obvious worry and frustration. Maybe he just needed more space than Kook thought.

The entire day was dreadful, from enduring all the stares and whispers from what felt like every single student in the school, to attempting to focus in class. It was useless. All he could think about was Taehyung.

Finally, the bell rang-- the younger able to head home, his phone glued to his face on the way. Still radio silence. It wasn't like his boyfriend to go this long without any contact...

When Kook finally got home, he opted to try to send a text:

To: Tae Hey, are you okay?

Jungkook read his text over and over, even added a 'Miss you', but decided to delete that part before hitting send. It was simple, but the least he could do was reach out.

A deep sigh left his lips before he repeated the same routine of worrying, showering, eating a half-assed meal and heading to bed. Tomorrow he'd surely come.

~

Taehyung spent the majority of the day laying under his covers, safely tucked away from his troubles.

The only excuse for his feet to touch the ground was when he needed to use the restroom, or when his stomach audibly protested for its first bite of food.

He’d seen Jungkook initiate a text, but unlike the previous times, he wasn’t extremely eager to answer.

Even the slightest bit of movement was physically draining.

When his father came home, Taehyung had yet to move from his lying position.

Now he had more of a reason to stay put.

He’d fallen asleep soon after, and by the time Taehyung checked his phone, it was 10:34 in the morning.

Fuck.. well, why bother going to school now, right? His first hour class had already passed.

Taehyung didn’t think about sending one of his friends a text, mind too foggy to act unselfish.

They probably weren’t even worried, and with that incorrect thought in his head, Tae fell back asleep.

~

If that first day wasn't already long and dreadful, the second day was next level for Jungkook.

Once again, Taehyung hadn't shown up to practice, nor did he show up to school at all.

And it didn't help that his hyungs were up his ass about it too.

'Where's Taehyung?'

'Is he sick?'

'Are you guys okay?'

Were they okay? Jungkook didn't fucking know. He couldn't get a hold of the boy. And to think of it-- the elder hadn't even replied to the text. Worried was an understatement at this point.

Jungkook got through the routines of the day, minutes felt like hours without his boyfriend, and as the day had started to melt together, the bell rang once again, the day over.

He headed towards the common area once more, internally cursing himself out for automatically expecting Taehyung to stand in his usual spot-- only feeling his chest tighten when he wasn't.

Kook walked home slowly this time, oddly enough checking his phone more frequently for any sign of Tae, but to no avail. If he wouldn't show up tomorrow, he'd definitely have to do something about this.

~

To everyone’s surprise-- Taehyung’s included-- the boy went back to school after his two-day streak of absence. He figured he couldn’t skip out on his remaining months, no matter how tempting it was to just.. vanish. As a side effect of his profound anxiety, Tae was more reserved than usual. He feared getting flooded with any unwanted questions, and his peers’ shameless murmurs only worsened his internal turmoil.

Maybe toughening up was a shitty idea; the second he stepped in those halls the wall he’d built for himself came crashing down.

With his hood shielding him from the outside world, Taehyung walked into the locker room. His steps were far from confident, and to anyone with a pair of working eyes it was obvious Tae was practically pushing himself to not curl up into a ball and feel bad for himself.

The elder feared hearing that word, it was weird in its own way. Whenever the slur was directed towards Jungkook, Taehyung didn’t think twice before throwing a punch. However, when it was meant for him he felt weak. He hated it.

However, nobody had uttered a single word towards Taehyung as of yet, only murmurs amongst themselves-- not even his friends. Not even Jungkook, who kept at a distance as he watched the elder ignore everybody like he was in his own bubble.

Kook was surprised to see him, and still seemingly in a weird state of mind…

Was Taehyung gonna say something? Should Jungkook say something? He felt weird about it-- and the constant glances from everybody else made him hesitate. He didn't want to make it worse..

Instead, the younger opted for throwing quick glances every now and then, hoping Tae would be looking at him as well for any indication that they'd talk. But he got nothing, and it was almost eerie.

It was frustrating as hell.

Jungkook hoped that as the locker room emptied out, Taehyung would stay around for a private conversation, but that was apparently not part of the plan as Jungkook watched the elder turn to leave without a word once more, kook following behind in silence. This day was gonna be long.

The elder failed to make every basket during practice, his aim was off, and his overall stance was stiff. It worried Namjoon, not only because one of his best players was lacking, but because his friend had his head in the clouds.

He’s never seen Taehyung this out of it..

But then again, when someone’s been forced to come out by a silly video roaming around the school, it was reasonable to be scared.

Namjoon just would’ve never guessed Tae was one of the people who were easily affected by useless chatter. He’s always deemed the younger as strong, fearless.

Joon had yet to be proven wrong.

Taehyung showed up today, and the elder found that to be the epitome of bravery.

If he was in his shoes, Namjoon wouldn’t know what to do. Not show his face in school, that was for sure.

In that moment, it had been established that Tae was far stronger than he was.

“Joon, can I get a drink of water.”

He’d been in the middle of a speech when Taehyung interrupted. Usually Joon would’ve scolded him for it, but with the way the morning’s been going, the elder simply nodded like a bobble head.

All watched the gloomy boy step out of the gymnasium, all the while Joon’s eyes were glued on Kook. There was definitely something going on between the two.

Namjoon waited a couple of seconds, anticipating Taehyung’s return.

Either the latter was extremely thirsty, or he used that as an excuse to leave mid practice.

“Uh.. I need someone to fetch me some extra basketballs. Jungkook? Can you do that?”

Really Namjoon was just giving the younger one a reason to chase after his troubled boyfriend, hoping they figure things out amongst themselves.

Jungkook didn't hesitate for even a second as soon as Namjoon gave him a chance at chasing after his boyfriend. A quick, grateful look given to the captain was all he gave before heading out the door, mind still swirling with his thoughts. Anxiety was a bitch, always amplifying and spurring on his worries-- and the way Taehyung was acting didn't help at all.

Jungkook finally found the familiar male bent over the water fountain. A part of him felt relieved just seeing him in the flesh, he wasn't randomly gone-- and by the looks of it, he hasn't gotten hurt..

Before, Jungkook had been hesitant, even cautious to talk to the elder, but after this amount of time, he'd grown tired of this shit. It wasn't his fault, none of this!

"Taehyung." Jungkook breathed the words out, as if he hadn't said them in so long that it felt.. weird, yet familiar. He crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for his boyfriend to tell him anything. Why weren't they talking this through?

Taehyung’s muscles tensed under the intrusive voice, slowly straightening his posture as he made a great effort to meet Jungkook’s hardened gaze.

“Look.. I’m not in the mood to talk, alright?”

Taehyung attempted to walk around the younger, feeling as if there was a vacuum sucking all the air out of his lungs.

For all he knew, someone could be recording them right now, stepping into their personal problems without an invite.

Jungkook swiftly stepped in front of Taehyung, blocking the way with his wider frame. His eyes squinted in frustration, fingers digging his blunt nails into his own biceps to keep himself as calm as possible. Tae really had the nerve to say he doesn't want to talk?

"Are you serious? I've worried for two days and that's the first thing you say?"

Taehyung breathed out in exasperation, wanting nothing more than to push Jungkook out of his way. The latter was visibly stronger so Tae decided to stay put, at least for now..

“You didn’t have to worry about me, I’m fine.” He mirrored the younger’s stance, arms tensely crossed over his chest.

Jungkooks common ritual of frustration appeared in the form of his tongue prodding the inside of his cheek, the annoyed head tilt following as he tried to read the expression in Taehyung's face. Why did he suddenly feel like a stranger? Why did he suddenly feel like the old Taehyung?

"You're kidding me... stop acting like this, just fucking talk to me!" Jungkook untangled himself from his own arms to place his hands on his hips. "I can't stand the silence."

“Maybe I don’t fucking wanna talk to you! Ever thought about that?!”

The elder’s chest heaved, bigger hands balled up into tight fists at his sides. He let out a shaky exhale, lowering his brittle voice after a few seconds of scraping around for his inner serenity.

“Ever thought about what I fucking wanted?” His fragile tone was a distraction from the deafening silence.

As if Jungkook was a contagious disease, Tae cowardly stepped back.

“I— I tried to please you, Jungkook,” the elder continued, “even when I wasn’t comfortable with— with showing public affection, or letting you hug me in front of other people, I still did it.”

Taehyung shook his head, as if not believing he allowed himself to fall so deep.

“Hell, I wanted to make you happy. I couldn’t say how scared I felt.. or my take on the situation. And you know what? I wish I would’ve put me first.”

More silence..

“I wasn’t fucking ready like you were! I-I just... wasn’t.”

Taehyung ran a hand through his hair, breaking down with every truthful word.

“Maybe if I listened to my gut, none of this shit would’ve happened.”

Jungkook took in every word, each one of them building to his whirl of emotions clashing in his chest. He wasn't sure what to say, arguing with the elder is like talking to a wall sometimes...

He exhaled a shaky breath, eyes averting Taes as he stared down at the ground. A short nod followed, his jaw muscles clenching. Jungkook just wanted them to be good again, but the elder continuously pushes that thought away with his words.

"Fine." He murmurs, no longer feeling the need to speak to Taehyung when all he got thrown at him was blame. He took another step back, slowly distancing himself as well before he would lose his temper-- the urge to fucking punch him was burning. And yet... the other part of him wanted to cry. This entire situation was just pure shit...

Taehyung didn’t build on what he had to say, simply walking around Jungkook now that he seemed more inattentive of his surroundings.

The elder saw the millions of thoughts flashing through his boyfriend’s glazed eyes.

He felt guilty; Tae didn’t particularly get off on angering the younger, or leaving him close to tears. But he had to get that off his heavy chest, he was already short of breath. Leaving the uncomfortable mass to linger would’ve been deadly.

Jungkook took a deep, silent breath as he waited for Taehyung to be out of sight until he came back down to reality. He still didn't entirely get the uncomfortable tension between them. It was so sudden...

Jungkook had to take a moment, fighting his fight or flight instincts telling him to get the fuck out of there. He pushed the emotions down, completely forgetting about the instructions from Namjoon to get the basketballs as he headed back to the court. Hopefully practice was over soon anyway. He just wanted to go home.

~

The rest of the long day Taehyung spent avoiding Jungkook, succeeding in doing so considering they didn’t share any common classes. Before, that was something Taehyung wished was different.

He wanted to be in the same class as his boyfriend, anything to be close to him.

Now? He was glad that wasn’t the case, it would hurt too much to make eye contact with him from across the room.

Tae’s blurry mind wasn’t on board, however, the younger was all he thought about.

Jungkook was all he knew, in a sense. It felt weird not being able to talk, to send him pestering messages only for Kook to ignore them, picking out the marshmallows in his cereal to give them to him..

It sucked, but Taehyung knew space was the medication they needed.

The elder was up in his room, shaky thumbs hovering above his phone’s keyboard whilst he stalled on Jungkook’s contact.

He’d been thinking about how unstable their relationship was; how they always fought more often than not— how most of their loud bickering was because of something he’d done.

Taehyung didn’t know how the fuck to act in a relationship, he was a piece of shit.

His boyfriend deserved better.. he deserved a guy who’d proudly show him off, kiss him without any fears, hold his hand without worrying about outsiders’ stares. Someone not nearly as messy.

Tae harshly wiped away a stray tear, inhaling softly to stay grounded.

He’d already made up his mind, but /fuck/ was it hard to actually go through with it..

Exhaling, Taehyung quickly typed out the same phrase that’s been haunting him all day, pushing ‘send’ once he was done.

To: Kook I think we should break up.

Taehyung knew that if he read over it once again, he’d lose all courage to end things.

He was only looking out for Jungkook, after all.

On the other end of things, that was the exact opposite of what Taehyung did.

© sombreboy 2020. Do not edit, repost or translate.

#fic: Love maze #vkook fic #taekook fic #taekook series #vkook series #bts fluff #bts smut #bts series #sombreboy #bts mxm #taehyung x jungkook

[lilibetts]

Someone within a twenty feet radius loves you!

(Part 2/3, Theme 1)

Betty was going to delete LoveAlarm from her phone.

She should have deleted LoveAlarm off her phone.

But come Wednesday afternoon, she still hasn’t, and she couldn’t have told you why. A glutton for punishment, probably.

>>No, you’re just a hopeful romantic! Veronica texts her while she’s in the library during study hall, working on an English essay.  >>The app is all about proximity. You don’t know who you simply haven’t been within twenty feet of yet. Or maybe they just haven’t downloaded the app.

Maybe so, yet Betty can’t help but feel like there is a fine line between hopeful and masochistic. She wants to text Veronica back with a passive-aggressive message about how Veronica has it easy with a bunch of pings and *at least* two people around the school who love her. But she doesn’t because that would be shitty.

The point is, LoveAlarm is still on her phone and she’s doing her best to forget all about it and her unexpectedly complicated feelings about Archie. That’s when it happens: she feels her phone buzzing across the wood table.

Frowning, she checks it, assuming it’s Veronica with more encouraging platitudes. Betty can scarcely believe what she sees, however:

1.

Someone within a twenty feet radius loves you!

The red heart on her screen is practically vibrating off the phone as she watches in shock. Her eyes dart up and around, landing on every face surrounding her. There has to be what, twelve people in the library that could be within twenty feet of her? It’s a popular location for study hall, after all. 

Someone is in love with her.

Was it Trev? Chuck? Sweet Pea? Alex C.? Tyler? Dilton? Of course it occurs to Betty that it could be a girl, but she isn’t up to date on who’s Out and who Veronica and Kevin are convinced are closeted. It definitely isn’t Ethel Muggs, who has started scowling at her every chance she gets lately.

The number on her phone goes back down to zero, so either the person turned their phone off or they just left her radius. Another frantic glance around only shows her the front doors swinging shut. Frowning, Betty realizes that Sweet Pea is no longer in the library and Trev has gotten up and walked over to a shelf in the back. Nobody seems to be doing anything with their phone.

Biting her lip, Betty considers her options, but there’s really only one solution.

                       *********************************************************

Jughead is in the Blue & Gold, fingers clacking away at the typewriter Betty had gotten him for his 16th birthday, Sweet Pea’s teasing words echoing in his ears, when said Hitchcock blonde comes bursting into the room.

“Juggie!” she exclaims a little breathlessly. She has one of those determined grins on her face that make his heart go pitter-patter. 

Thankfully, his phone is off, so it can’t tell on him.

“I need your help.” She drags another chair up to his desk and sits down primly, spine straight and ankles crossed. /If you have the time./

/Of course. What’s up?/

Betty hesitates then, biting her lip. /I downloaded LoveAlarm,/ she says finally, arms and voice tentative. /Someone pinged it in the library earlier and I want you to help me find out who./ With that, Betty slaps down a piece of paper with a list of names on it. Jughead swallows hard.

He’s not an absolute moron, he did expect this. When presented with an unknown suitor, of course Betty Cooper would immediately start to investigate. 

He could just tell her, but again, vulnerability is scary. As Tim Kreider wrote, “If you want to enjoy the rewards of being loved, you also have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known.” It’s a certainty that she’ll figure it out eventually. Maybe he’s being a coward, but hey, Betty *loves* solving mysteries.  

Jughead doesn’t expect her love in return, he’s just flattered that he was the first one she thought of to help her figure out who pinged her LoveAlarm.

/Why are Sweet Pea and Trev’s names starred?/

/They left my radius around the same time my LoveAlarm went from 1 to 0./

When Jughead had decided to sneak into the library earlier and make her phone ping while he hid in the stacks behind her, he had been counting on the other students around her as cover but now, seeing that she’s zeroed in on two guys in particular has a pit opening up in his stomach.

“You’re a fucking idiot, Jones. Just tell her,” Sweet Pea had told him.

His hands feel clunky as he tries to sign. /And if it’s one of them, how would you feel?/

The question stymies Betty, who shakes her head and shrugs, gathering up her things. /I don’t know. Let’s just figure out who it is and I’ll figure out how I feel then./

“Okay,” Jughead ends up saying to her retreating back.

Thursday is simultaneously the most fun and the most torturous. In the morning, Jughead finds himself helping Betty stalk Sweet Pea down G Hallway, chatting him up to stall him near the Chem classrooms and surreptitiously waving her over once he ascertains that Sweet Pea has his phone out and turned on. 

“Hey, Sweet Pea!” 

Betty practically bounces as she comes to a stop next to him, eyes bright but biting her lip nervously. She’s balancing a 13”x9” tupperware container in her arms, and her phone is in her left hand, turned away from them so they can’t see LoveAlarm open on the screen.

Of course Jughead turned his own off as soon as he arrived at school. What do you think he is? An amateur?

“'Sup, Coop?” Sweet Pea doesn’t know a lot of sign language, but he smiles down at her easily. Jughead is overwhelmed by a sudden urge to kick him in the shin. “Are those for me?” Sweet Pea approximates sign with some basic pointing from the cupcakes in the tupperware container before pointing at himself.

“Uh…” Betty’s sneaking a glance at her phone and for a moment, Jughead is worried. “Yes, you can have one. They’re Boston Cream Pie cupcakes.” 

He groans on the inside. Those are his favorite.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Sweet Pea murmurs, grabbing one and peeling away the liner so he can take a bite.

This time, Jughead’s groan may have been audible.

Betty catches Jughead’s eye and shakes her head. Great, that’s one name scratched off their list. To Sweet Pea, she says: “I better be off, or I’ll be late. Bye, guys!” 

Jughead watches her leave, ponytail swishing from side to side. Sweet Pea watches him watch her leave for a moment before he clears his throat.

“Listen, Jones, I don’t mean to rush you and all, but...having a cute girl come up to you all smiles and offering you a cupcake—a damn delicious cupcake at that—might make a guy catch feelings. Just saying.” With that, Sweet Pea takes another bite of the cupcake, getting chocolate icing smeared all around his lips. Every chew he takes seems like a threat. A helpful threat.

“Lima Charlie,” Jughead sighs. Message received and understood. Sweet Pea’s older brother had been in the army and thus, he and Jughead had spent years using military jargon over walkie talkies as they snuck around Sunnyside. With a nod, Sweet Pea gives him an unnecessarily hard pat on the back and heads down the hallway.

When Jughead ducks into the Blue & Gold in between the next classes, he sees the tupperware container on his desk, next to his typewriter, a sticky note on top:

The rest are yours! I made your favorites, after all. -B

God I love you, Betty Cooper.

Lunchtime is nearly a disaster. Betty had roped the two of them into helping the Theater Club finish some set decoration for a production of Almost, Maine. All for nothing, because as it turns out, Trev is out for a dentist appointment. Still, Jughead manages to have fun being half-heartedly helpful while he eats his lunch—two ham sandwiches Betty brought in for him as a bribe for helping her with this—and Betty’s having a good time too, as evidenced by the fact she’s smiling so hard her eyes crinkle, and even when she tries to scrunch up her face to be mad at him eating more than painting, it just collapses into another giggling fit.

It’s when lunch is over and they’re heading up the aisle to where they’d left their things that Jughead remembers he left his phone on. Betty has hers with her, since she thought she would be testing Trevor’s phone for pings, and she’s barely five feet behind him.

Crap.

He hurries ahead and grabs it, depressing the power button. Just before the screen goes black, he could have sworn he saw his LoveAlarm app begin to open.

He doesn’t let himself think anything of it. In the rush, his thumb had probably hit the app button.

                  **************************************************************

Thursday night finds Betty pondering the mystery that still remains: the identity of the person who loves her. Sweet Pea has been eliminated from the list of possibilities, but Trev Brown remains a question mark. 

Curled up in her thick socks and comfiest sweatpants, hair wet from her shower and starting to curl, Betty stares at her laptop screen as she contemplates their next step. Her and Jughead had bonded over their mutual love of The Baxter Brothers and Tracy True books as children, and they’d conducted more than one investigation together over the years, so it’s natural that Betty had gone to him for help with this, even if it’s a little embarrassing.

But why, a niggling little voice asks at the back of her mind. Jughead’s question comes back to her: what will she do if it’s Trev? She doesn’t know. 

Trev’s...nice. He’s cute, and smart, and Betty doesn’t have the faintest idea what she’d do with the knowledge that he’s in love with her. Go on a date with him, she supposes, to at least see whether there is something there before she...breaks his heart? That’s what you do, right? You go to dinner at one of the few nicer restaurants in town or you go see a movie at the Bijou.

She doesn’t really want to think about this, Betty realizes, as her attention wanders from her Sleuthster search results to the ads along the column on the right. One ad catches her eye and she gasps, straightening in her chair and grabbing her phone. Her thumbs fly over the keys as before she hits [send].

<<Do you still have the reels for Rear Window?

>>Yes, why?

<<We should set the projector up in my basement and watch it this weekend. I’ll supply the snacks.

>>Capital idea, Betts, but how are you going to get all that junk food past the K9-level olfactory senses of Alice Cooper?

<<It just so happens that my mom and dad are going to visit Polly in Boston this weekend.

>>Cambridge. Just say Cambridge.

<<As long as we dispose of the evidence and air out the basement with some Febreeze, mom will be none the wiser. I’m sure Archie will donate his trash bin to the cause.

There’s a longer pause before Jughead replies.

>>It’s a   plan

>>Speaking of plans, what do you need me to do tomorrow re: Mission Pings?

Betty grins and taps out the basic framework of how they’re going to corner Trev before the pizza party at lunch, but Jughead will have her phone on him so he can feel for her ping, and listen for Trev’s ping. A thought occurs to her and Betty suddenly feels selfish for insisting that Jug help her.

<<I meant to ask you...have you downloaded LoveAlarm?

>>What do you think?

>>Besides, I already know what it would say.

A terrible feeling, like a vise in her chest, takes her over as she reads and re-reads those words. How can Jughead believe this? Almost immediately on the heels of that thought is the reminder that Betty herself had been despondent on Tuesday when she allowed the melodramatic thought  that ‘nobody was going to ever love her’ to take hold.

<<That’s bullshit. Any girl would be lucky to fall in love with you!

She means her words. Jughead may be antisocial, he may wear that crown beanie practically all the time, and okay, yes he can be the most extra fucking weirdo on the planet...but he’s also clever and passionate, she’s seen firsthand how caring and considerate he can be, and of course he’s objectively attractive. 

Betty stares at the window that faces the Andrews’ home, with the roller shades that are always pulled down lately, and pictures Jughead’s face in her mind, how he’s a bit on the pretty side, especially with that mouth. She thinks about how jealous she’s been of that wild head of dark hair in the past, when she’s seen him with the hat off, and how over the past year he’s shot up another inch or two and seems to have filled out, especially in the arms—

>>From your thumbs to God’s ears, Betts. Night, I’ve gotta be up bright and early to help you catch the worm.

She lets out a huff of laughter and rolls her eyes even though she knows he can’t see her.

<<Night, Juggie.

#bughead #riverdaleevents #avarosier writes

[thebookofus-depravity]

Skinny Bone Jones

Skinny Bone Jones

Chapter 1 

Chapter 2 coming soon!

9k words

This is my baby Park Jaehyung and an AU in which y’all are dealing with the coronavirus together in LA. Jae grew up with Y/N and you were childhood friends. You stayed close but haven’t seen each other in ages. Now you’re both back.

 Teeth rotting fluff, possible smut in future chapters (lets see if I have the balls to post it), Y/N has a strong proclivity for a certain guitarists hands. And honestly, who can blame her? TW: Confrontation with a nasty old ex, Coronavirus,  Quarantine, overbearing parents.

...

This fucking sucks.

Closing your laptop, and shoving it off of your lap to the side of your bed, you are struck by exactly how warm the underside of your Netflix Machine was in contrast to the chilly room. Well, 3 hours of To Catch a Predator in, and sure, your old 2011 Dell dinosaur is going to be a little mad at you. I've got to do something today. Anything. 

Week 3 of your quarantine is coming to a close and on this breezy LA Thurs-Fri-Turday (who the hell knows anymore) you can feel the last tendrils of your sanity escaping with the setting sun. It just doesn't stop setting. And rising. And setting. And rising. Tortuously slow some days and before you can even get out of bed the next. Not that you get out of bed much.

Alright. That's it. I'm gonna do something. I have to. It's time to make some art, bake some cookies, go for a run, tell someone around me how much I value them, topple the patriarchy. I am going to get up and do something with my life and damned if I get in my own way again. I am unstoppable. I am formidable. I am inevitable. 

Rising from your rumpled bed clothes with the steadfastness of a slightly anemic Viking (whoa I’m woozy, I shouldn't have stood up so fast. Shit, when's the last time I ate?) you cross to the large bay window that faces the street. You throw your curtains open, ready to face the day, only to be faced with… stars starting to twinkle at you out of the inky blackness. Dammit. I'm gonna have to defeat systemic oppression tomorrow. 

Squinting from behind your glasses, you see that the stars are not stars at all but helicopters blinking down at you. You haven't seen real stars since your trip to Big Sur last summer. Although you moved to LA when you were 7, you have vague recollections of the Korea that you loved as a young child. Your parents had picked up and moved to the States after years of struggling through VISA's and citizenship red tape. Your mom and dad had originally meant to get married and have you in the US. The land of opportunity. 

You now chafed slightly under that blanket of opportunity as you are far too aware of the responsibility you have been given to make the absolute most of it. From the ripe old age of 8 you had been conditioned to follow your dreams to their fullest. As long as those dreams were to become a doctor, lawyer, or marry a CEO. Your parents cared about you greatly and you knew that. They only want security for you, happiness comes from security. Now 25, you can't quite remember the last time their overbearing nature had been quite this...potent. You were in your final year of medical school at USC and there was nowhere to run.  It was time for you to begin your foray into the 'real world' of residency. The same post-undergrad 'real world' that you had watched all of your non-premed friends crash land into. They had all distanced themselves from you, both figuratively and literally; intentionally and inadvertently. Divorced, Beheaded, Died: Divorced, Beheaded, Survived. You had watched you friends get married, have kids, sabotage marriages, buy houses, do well, do poorly. And here you were in some kind of bubble both safe and isolated from all of the uncertainty beyond the classroom. 

Jokes on you, Jessica, now we're all screwed, you find yourself thinking for the upteenth time over the past month. You had been watching the Coronavirus since December and knew exactly what was to come. You did all that you were capable of as a not-quite certified medical professional and tried to convince people of the reality of the threat, convince them not to panic, and to exercise a reasonable level of preparedness. Well, that didn't work. You found yourself sunk into a deep well of frustration and futility at the action and inaction that was being exhibited throughout the States. For the first weeks of quarantine you found yourself glued to your phone, helplessly watching the tragedy unfold and the stupidity that was ensuing. By week 2 your empathy had burnt out and you knew you couldn't watch that world anymore. K-drama's it is. After completely obliterating Crash Landing on You, Itaewon Class, and rewatching Descendants of the Sun for the eighth time just because it's so. damn. cute!, your parents started to get a little concerned. 

Your stomach growled and you realize you, in fact, haven't eaten since early this morning. As you consider what the consequences of emerging from your cave of a bedroom might have, you resign yourself. Five minutes later you are hovering in the kitchen with a bowl of leftover whateverthefuck in hand, you turn to see both of your parents at the bar stools staring at you with a look of concern that you haven't seen in years. Shit, I keep forgetting, they think I'm functional.  Your parents had shipped you off to Health Careers College Prep school, a boarding school in Sacramento, when you were 16. Upon graduation there with your high school diploma, nurses aid, and dental hygienist's certificates, you immediately started at USC premed. You hadn't lived at home since your Jonas Brother's phase. As much as your parents loved you, they didn't really know you. This had been overwhelmingly obvious when the USC campus closed and you returned home to open arms and your bedroom frozen in the clutches of 2009. Your parents had welcomed you home with tearful hugs and a new gift for your room. I know how much you love that Kevin- boy. And your room is so old. Come. Come. Already wary and wondering who the hell is Kevin? you allowed yourself to be led to your old room and set your bags down with a deadened thump. You tried so hard not to laugh, You really did.  They're trying so hard. But like, Where did they even find this monstrosity? You had been staring up at the largest poster of Kevin Jonas that you had ever seen every night for 3 weeks and it was starting to get to you. 

Regardless of the decor (purple fuzzy lamp shade included), there were so many parts of living at home that were so foreign to you.  Although everything was completely the same, you were worlds different and it was disorienting. Your bed seemed smaller, the walls shorter, the colors dimmer. Everything that made that house your home was still there, only you had changed. It was like you were in a coma and had just woken up, the rest of the world unchanged but with 10 more years under your belt. Your therapist would tell you that you were reverting into a childlike state because of trauma and surroundings. Hush, Mollie, I don't need that right now. I need food. 

Food was honestly what was keeping you sane and civil. Your parents own a pho shop just down the street that was still taking carry out and delivery orders for pho, crawfish, whatever they had lying around. You had been helping out in the kitchen and with deliveries since you had been home. As freeing as the drives have been, you really come alive in the kitchen. You had been watching your mom make pho and dumplings for years and although she sent kimchi to your apartment every month or so, you missed your moms cooking. And her kitchen. You immediately took to cooking just like you had when you moved off of USC campus and into an apartment with some friends. You had 12 burners! That all worked! A convection oven! Two of them! Kitchen Aid's! You had no problem opening up shop at 8am every morning to prep the dough and get the stock boiling and all of the other things that her mother and father had been doing for the past 20 years. 

Returning to your room after rinsing out your bowl and chopsticks, and exchanging goodnight's with your parents you sit on your bed and tell yourself to go to bed. You have to be up at 7am for the kitchen. You need to chop scallions for the pork and chive dumplings so it has time to coagulate. Come on, Go to bed. No phone. It was a pitiful attempt, really. You had been pulling med-school grade all-nighters since your junior year of high school and nothing was stopping you now. Turning on your side for easy access to your charger, you plug your phone and coast through Instagram, Youtube, Twitter, Tinder for an indeterminate amount of time before your eyes start to get heavy. Instagram was just filled with all of your peers from USC recklessly meeting up with friends for picnics and drives and all of the other things they thought they were free to do because they were young and healthy and beautiful. Fuck off. Youtube provided a lovely escape from the actual outside. Mikey Chen showed you around TaiPei's street food scene, Binging with Babish gave you a new hand pulled noodle recipe to try, Bon Appetit made you glad you weren't Claire Saffitz. Tinder was a joke but an adequately funny one. Instead of your bog standard USC fuckboi's you were able to talk to fuckboi's from Korea, Dubai, Indonesia, Guatemala, Brazil. How fun. You had downloaded it 6 months prior after yet another guy in your department was just 'too busy, i'm sorry' to make the date that you had planned. You generally tried to avoid Twitter as it was just an echo chamber of panic and 24 hour news cycles and didn't do much for your anxiety. See, Mollie? I'm being smart. 

You flick open the little bird app and scroll for just a minute. A particular notification picques your attention. Jae tweeted. Well, Day6 tweeted, but we all know who runs their twitter. Your throat tightens with nerves as the post loads. You worry about him more than you'd like to admit but with tours cancelled and travel suspended, you know how hard it can be for people whose livelihoods revolve around entertainment and travel. The post loads and you let out a sigh of relief to see Jae surrounded by his band mates and smiling. Brian starts speaking Korean and delivers his message about their newly acquired tiktok. Brian gestures for Jae to speak and Jae delivers the same message in English. Ah, he went back to blonde. It looks good on him. Wait is he- oh god, he's wearing a crossbody fanny pack. Jae, you're old. Stop. Shifting to get more comfortable, you let the video loop a few times before closing the app. Jae's okay. You roll over onto your side and set your phone to the side. Jae's voice echoes through your ears for the next few minutes but you resolve yourself against it. I'm not getting fucking tiktok. I'm a grown ass woman. That app is for 12 year olds. And Jae. Resolved, you burrow into your Jonas brothers duvet cover for the night. 

Sweating and on the verge of tears, you wake with a start. The dream was already slipping from your consciousness with a blessed haste but the uneasy feeling that the nightmare gave you seemed to coat the inside of your skull and taint it's entire contents. A thin light filters through your still open window and your eyes creak open. Morning? Sure, why not? Rolling over, you flick open your phone and are greeted by an all too unfamiliar, 5:17am. It's too damn early. Even for you. You still have an hour or so to kill before you have to get up but you didn't fancy the idea of trying to go back to sleep after that dream. Propping yourself up on a few of the approximately 67 pillows that litter your twin sized bed, you open your phone. 3 new emails from USC congratulating you on your graduation and asking for some documentation of something or another or evaluation of some class you hadn't thought of in weeks. Skip. 2 emails from residencies that you had applied to before the coronavirus urging you to reapply in the fall. Great. You couldn't even bring yourself to feign concern over the missed opportunity. 1 email from Twitter informing you that Jae had tweeted. Again. You follow the link to another video of his side project EaJ. You had been following his new releases and you were surprised by the tenderness and vulnerability that they showed. He was always such a funny guy, it was the only side that he really showed much to the media. Sure, fans got glimpses at concerts, but not many knew just how deep the well ran in that man. 

Today's Tuesday, apparently. The next episode of How Did I Get Here? comes out today. I'll have something to listen to while I food prep. You never admitted to yourself how pleased you were when he started the podcast. You missed hearing his voice on a regular basis. Hollered up into your window, whispered between giggles in the back-most church pew, hurled across crowded hallways. Of course, the voice was different than it is now. Pocked by pubescence and the LA accent, you remember a far squeakier Jae. He was the first person you met when you moved into the neighborhood at 7 years old. He was 9 so of course, he took it upon himself to show you exactly where you could and couldn't go and what taco trucks would give out fare for free to little kids on weekends.  You remember those years fondly as finally having the big brother you never had. Skinny Bone Jones, you called him. He stood up for you when the kids in middle school called you smelly for bringing kimchi in your lunch. He called you smelly just for being you. He was well liked in school and by extension so were you. You had the cool big brother. You were more than happy to play second fiddle and be his backup. Tagging along to parties, helping him record his yellow post-it note covers on Youtube, letting him know when his hair looked stupid.

 And so it stayed until Jae actually made it on KPop Star. As much as you loved him, you didn't think he would ACTUALLY make it. Sure, he could sing. He had a beautiful voice but that wasn't enough. The boy danced like a drunk chicken and was 6ft tall and 120lbs soaking wet. He didn't even know Korean. What was he thinking? He was thinking he was going to prove you wrong. And he did. You watched as Skinny Bone Jones transformed into Park Jaehyung with a perfect balance of immense pride and terror. You knew you wouldn't lose your friend entirely but during his trainee days he had very limited access to the outside world, and you just weren't a priority. Honestly,  you would've been offended if you had been. He has a mom, dad, an older sister, bandmates, college. It only makes sense that the steady stream of communication turned into a trickle. It wasn't until Every Day6 that you were more of an insistent presence in his life. You burrowed your way back into his inbox with the tenacity of the annoying little sister that you were. You were worried. You watched him on After School Club and in the deluge of content that Day6 was serving their slowly growing fanbase. He looked tired. You once again rekindled your relationship but it was different now. Instead of you leaning on him for social support, you became his confidant. He was struggling. Burnt out, and questioning so many things, he didn't want to go to his bandmates because he didn't want them to worry. His parents would pull him immediately if they knew exactly how rough his condition was, his 'friends' from college had proved fake. He now had Alpha Phi Omega blocked because they wouldn't stop asking for favors: Day6 tickets, Twice merch, Got7 tickets. He felt alone but you reached out and he was able to lean on you. The trials passed and he was happier than ever and Day6's growing popularity meant good things for his lobster funds. 

You stayed in contact over the years and shared with each other the going on's of your lives. You had even managed to go to the Gravity World Tour date in LA. Jae got you backstage and you were able to meet the rest of his bandmates that you had heard so much about. It was an act of God that you managed to keep your composure. I mean sure, he's just Jae but you're still backstage at a concert for the first time! Your cheeks still redden when you remember how Jae caught you ogling at YoungK. Heart in your throat, and voice barely above a whisper YoungK had walked directly over to you and asked what you were doing backstage. After a solid 15 seconds of pointing listlessly at your Press badge and making just the strangest of noises that were meant to approximate speech, Jae finally caught wind and rushed over, knocking your sense back into you and introducing you to the members. 

Oh! Y/N! It's so nice to finally meet you! Jae talks about you all the time, I'm so glad you were able to make it! Your cheeks inexplicably reddened further to a violent shade of pink but the boys slowly defanged themselves in your mind. They're truly lovely people and you're glad Jae has them. That being said, you still can't quiiiite look Brian in the eyes and Jae thinks it's hilarious. 

The Gravity tour feels like ages ago as you shrug on some jeans and a tee shirt for your walk to the shop. August 2019 at the Novo may have only been 8 months ago but it seems like a different reality. The Novo will be closed for the forseeable future and concerts are cancelled. That stings but not as much as the radio silence from Jae. First it was his tour schedule that rendered communication difficult and now the virus. You know he's busy and it's been a weird few months for the entertainment industry, but a 'Hey I'm alive.' would be nice. From his podcasts and twitter you've been able to keep some thread attached but you feel it stretching thin as the months stretch on. You really don't want to be annoying. You're sick of feeling like a fan. Yeah, you support Jae and Day6 and would call yourself a MyDay, but that's not all you are. You know him. You dragged him through the mud when he convinced you to try sledding down a muddy hill on a trash can lid. You set up his camcorder for his covers when he still had that stupid swoopy hair. You posed as his angry girlfriend when a crazy fan wouldn't leave him alone.  You're starting to feel like just a fan and not a friend and it's only exacerbated by the glee that you feel when you get the notification from dive studios that How Did I Get Here? has updated. I miss my friend. 

Not bothering to flip the sign on the front door from closed to open, you shoulder open the front door of the shop after fumbling with the keys. Tying an apron securely around your waist, and flicking on your noise cancelling headphones to a comforting thrum, you wash your hands and begin to chop the largest pile of scallions you've ever seen. Crunching through the pile, you start Jae's podcast and everything is gone but him. You can almost imagine him in the room with you, perched on the counter talking your ear off about the Mandela effect or how weird elbows are or something equally as ridiculous. Today he's talking about soul mates. As you listen to him joke and banter and pontificate, your eyes well up. It's just the scallions. You know damn well it's only partially the scallions. You miss Jae. And you're in the middle of a pandemic. And your family barely knows you. And you're not sure if you even want to be a pediatric oncologist. Fuck. Jae's words turn into white noise in your ears as you toss your headphones to the side and place the knife on the butchers block, perhaps more aggressively than necessary. You pause the podcast and let yourself sit in the feeling. You're lonely and sad. See Mollie? I'm letting myself feel things. Making room for every emotion. You cast your mind around and recall all of the little wounds that prick a little too deep today. You feel a squeeze in your abdomen and your eyes shoot open wide. Shit, my period. I've got to be PMSing. Even Jae recognized the trend in your emotions before you did. The week before your period, you were notoriously mushy and weepy and indulgent. Well, that's one mystery solved. I'll be okay. Mollie's voice echoed through your brain with her familiar argument that hormones only heighten the emotional distress, not fabricate it. These feelings are valid and aren't fake just because you're hormonal. You steadfastly ignore that point, wipe your eyes, and pull your headphones back on. You finish up the pile of scallions and a few other morning chores before the podcast ends. It's Jae's sign off that sends the bowl of mandu filling that you were holding clattering to the floor. "I'm coming to you from my childhood home, so if the audio is a little finnicky… blame Byron." Jae's home.

…

After sweeping up a pound of pork, beef, mirin, soy sauce, and chives and disposing of it, you stare at your phone- hands shaking slightly. Jae. What the fuck. You rip off your apron and your mind races. Should I call him? Should I go see him? I can’t believe he’s right here. 2 houses down. Fuck. Your rational brain knows that it’s okay to feel excited about Jae being home. But the sneaky little bitch that lives in the back of your brain is telling you that if he wanted to hear from you, he would’ve called. You feel a little bit of yourself fragment at that, but you push it to the side. You open up your phone and slide over to his contact in your phone. What greets you is your last text conversation.

Jae: I’m so glad you had fun, Y/N! But if you ever look at Brian like that again, I might have to put a ban on you at our concerts. His head was way too big.

Y/N: Look at him like what?! I didn’t do anything and you know it! 

Jae: Of course you’re didn‘t. You totally weren’t drooling over my bassist. 

Y/N: Fuck off.

Jae: Gladly, love. ;)

8 months ago. Sure you’d DM’d quite a bit since then and called a few times. But it just seemed so sparse. You don’t want him to just humor you. You’re an adult and perfectly capable of being alone. You’re not going to text him just yet. 

You finish up your morning chores and head back to your house, pausing for perhaps just a little too long in front of the sandstone house with the tan shutters and shoes out front. You knew that house so well. You knew how much weight the tree outside the upstairs bedroom window could hold. You knew where the kimchi refrigerator was tucked away in a back corner of the garage. You knew there was a blonde boy in there that you wanted nothing more than to run inside and get a hug from. 

You shower and let the hot water run over you, hoping it will relax the knotted up muscles in your back. It’s not like I can go see him anyway. We’re in quarantine. He probably just got back to LA and just hasn’t gotten the chance to-. You run the same conversation over and over in your head until you can’t take it anymore. You need someone else’s voice in your head. Curling into your covers, you sigh and go to the App Store. A few short minutes later and you hate yourself more than you ever have. Tiktok. Here we go. You watch the video of Day6 introducing themselves to the social networking platform once, twice, three times until your eyes start to ache. All of a sudden you’re met with a new post that pings up. Your breath catches in your throat as you see Jae standing in his living room, attempting to keep up with Amber Liu’s dance challenge. You can’t help but giggle as he flails to the left, to the right, oversized black hoodie always falling into his face. BM would be proud. Express not impress. You find yourself shocked at the weight that he’s gained. He looks healthy and happy. You remember the conversations in middle school about how much he hated being skinny. The evenings in the weight room in high school. Failed doctors appointments. He looked good before but you see that in recent months his chest has been swelling and not just with pride. His shoulders sit a little bit broader than you ever remember in the past and you’re happy for him. Good for you, Jae. 

You like the tiktok and let it loop a few more times before sighing heavily and opening your messaging app.

Y/N: I got TikTok for you, ya little shit. 

You chuckle but leave the text unsent. You’ll think of something better later. You toss your phone to the side in the face of the mountain of laundry on your bed that needs to be taken care of. As you hang the last of your shirts, your phone pings. You pick it up to a notification from Jae.

Skinny Bone Jones: Language! 

Skinny Bone Jones: Do you think Amber approves? 

You feel a flare of indignation wash through your limbs at the mention. Apparently it had sent. Oh well. As the thrill of a reply ebbs out of you, it is replaced by a rising indignation. How dare you?! Not tell me you’re in town and pretend like you didn’t?! Really?! 

Y/N: I don’t really care what Amber thinks.

Maybe that was a little snippy. You love Amber, truly. But how can he have time for TikTok but not me?

Skinny Bone Jones: Yeah? Do you still care what I think? 

Your heart catches in your throat. So he’s caught on that you’re pissed. 

Skinny Bone Jones: Y/N, can I call you? 

You swipe up to the phone icon and call him on auto pilot. Talk to me, Jae.

“Y/N?” you hear Jae’s voice.

“Jae.” Your voice comes out whispier than you meant it to. You try again.

“Jae! How are you?”

“Oh, y’know, just got off a plane that smelled like bleach and got to my house that isn’t really my house anymore, left my guitar to be sanitized, was “strongly encouraged” to make a TikTok by my company, and then got my head bit off by my best friend. Just quarantine things.” There is a touch of acid in his voice but Jae mostly sounds tired. Your empathy comes surging back and you sigh.

“I’m sorry Jae. I just- I didn’t know you were in town until I listened to your podcast this morning. I was a little hurt that you didn’t call or anything.” 

“Look, kid. I just got home. I’m a diva. You know I require at least an 18 hour period of naps and boba to function properly. I’m a KPop Star now.” You laugh at the callback to your irate spiel a few years ago about how fame had changed him and he was a diva and  just ‘wasn’t the Jae you knew’ anymore. It wasn’t his fault he was allergic to everything and turned down all of your food suggestions.

“Jae, you’ve been a diva since day one.” You quip back, tension resolving as you fall back into a familiar playful banter. 

“And don’t you forget it, Y/N.” There's a slight pause before Jae continues, 

“This diva is really sorry he didn’t call you. It’s just been a lot the last few days. The tour just got cancelled. And our album comes out in a few days. Our team has been going crazy trying to figure out how we’re supposed to publicize in this climate and I just-“ 

“Jae. Chill. When I preordered mine last week, it was the most popular album on the site. It’s gonna sell. Don’t worry too much.” There’s a beat of silence in which you can hear the air whoosh out of Jae’s lungs.

“You-You preordered Demon?” Jae sounds shocked but endeared at your admission and you laugh. 

“Of course? I’m really pumped to hear that sexy, soothing voice of Wonpil’s. Maybe I’ll even get a Dowoon photo card this time! I keep getting Jae ones in my other albums and I give them to my little cousin.” This isn’t entirely true. You have 3 of Young K, 2 of Dowoon, and 1 each of Wonpil and Sungjin. You’ve been waiting for a Jae photocard for ages. You would die before you told him that, though.

“You little shit. If you don’t want to see my face, why are you following Day6 on TikTok?” Jae ribs back.

“Brian. Duh. He’s fine as hell.”

“Yah! Haven’t you found a boring ass Orthopedic surgeon or some shit, yet? Why do you have to terrorize me like this?” 

“Why? Haven’t you found a Twice member that’ll marry you yet, Skinny Bone Jones?”

“I’ll have you know, I gained 10 pounds the past 8 weeks! I’ll be big as BM soon!” You can picture the expression of childlike pride in his face even if you can’t see it. 

“You look really good, Jae. I’m proud of you. You’ve been working really hard.” The sudden sincerity catches the both of you off guard and you clear your throat.

“Thanks, Y/N. That means a lot.” A comfortable silence is followed by a lengthy conversation recounting the previous weeks, the various states of the other members, your own eviction from college, and the status of the shop. 

“You know, Y/N, if you or your family need anything I’m more than happy to help. I mean I know how hard it can-“ You cut him off before he can go any further.

“We’re okay Jae, honest. I know you’d be good for it but we don’t need anything right now. Business is good at the pho shop and we’re okay.” 

“Okay, okay. Just know I’m here.”

“I mean NOW I do, no thanks to youuu,” you wheedle, whining about his failure to let you know he was in town. 

“Come on, Y/N, I said I was sorry!” He laughs but you can hear the desperation of sincerity in his voice.

“I know, Jae. I’m just kidding. I just really missed you.” 

“I missed you too Y/N.”

You get off the phone upon the realization that you needed to go to the shop and prep for the dinner deliveries. Sometimes you abhorred that you were “essential”. You run downstairs and tell your parents the good news about Jae and inform them you’ll be back soon. 

“I know you’re excited, Y/N, but remember we can’t be going and visiting people like that. Only essential work.” You roll your eyes slightly but assure them that you know. As if you hadn’t been telling them the same thing for weeks. I had to convince you not to go play mahjong in the park, eomma. You might be excited, but you’re not stupid. 

You had just started filling the mandu when you hear the bell over the door chime. Pardon me, are you stupid? We've been closed for weeks, why do you think it would be okay to just walk in? You wipe your hands on your apron and start to walk to the counter.

"Hello? I'm sorry, we're only open for call-in deliveries." You round the corner and lift your head from your hands to see the form of the gangliest, tallest, loveliest man you've ever seen in your life.

"Special delivery." Jae remarks smoothly, arms open wide in invitation and head cocked to the side as if he was bracing himself for the crash landing that was to come.

"Jae!" you yell, and launch yourself from behind the counter and into his arms. His arms fold around you and everything else melts away. Your face burrows against his chest and you inhale. He smells like home and cinnamon. You can feel tears welling up in your eyes with the tide of emotions that wash over you. Jae's hand cups the back of your head into him and he hugs you just as tightly as you hug him. You press yourself into him with everything you have and in the deafening silence and warmth all that you can think is I love you.

"Y/N" He whispers, not loosening his grip on you.

"Mmph." you respond weakly.

"My shirt's wet." You jump back from him a bit and see that he's correct. Your eyes are leaking. All over his white shirt. Oops.

"Oh! I'm-I'm sorry." You laugh a bit and swipe at your eyes before patting at his shirt in futility.

"It's okay, love. Come here." He welcomes you back into his arms and you wrap your arms over his neck this time. 

"I missed you." You whisper, voice cracking a bit. 

"I know you did." You jump back from him. Bitch.

"Hush. I missed you too, you idiot. Why else would I be standing here right now?"

You cast your eyes around in a panic. He's here. He's right here. In the store. Here. He shouldn't be here. He should be in quarantine with his family. You're unessential to him. 

Sensing the realization in your eyes,  he pushes past you, walking to the back and puts on the latex gloves hidden behind the counter. 

"I figured it was about time to get a 'real job' like everyone keeps telling me to." He smiles smugly and picks up the knife to start chopping the bok choy. You stand there in shock for one second, two seconds, three seconds until you realize he’s about to cut his fingers off. 

“Jae! Stop!”

“Look, Y/N, I don’t care what you say, I’m going to do this. I want to help. And I’ll be damned if I’m not allowed to see you in the time I’m finally here-“ 

“No, Jae. Stop. I know I can’t argue with you. I’d be thrilled if you’d work with me. But Brian is gonna kill me if I let you cut your damn hands off.” 

“I… what?” 

“You’re a guitarist Jae. We can’t have you cutting off your pretty little fingers. And if you keep chopping it like that, that’s exactly what you’re going to do.” 

Jae looks down at his hands and stretches his fingers wide as if considering them for the first time. 

“Pretty?” 

You roll your eyes, but unbidden, your eyes are still trained on his hands. They really are pretty. 

“Just. Let me show you.” You show him how to tuck his knuckles up against the blade and chop in smooth rocking motions so as not to take off his fingertips. 

You work in relative silence for the next hour, packaging meals and portioning combos as your mom and dad peek in and out to pick up the orders. You can feel a warmth flowing through you as you take in your surroundings. The loneliness of the past weeks leeches out of you and dissipates into the warm atmosphere, homey smells, and murmur of conversation. It’s almost as if your limbs wake up bit by bit, like a tree waking up after a long frigid winter. You feel yourself stretch and shine and the bubbles of contentment flow through you. By the time the last combo is out the door, you find it really difficult to take the smile of your face. 

Jae seemed to be in the same boat. On more than one occasion you caught him staring at you. Every time you caught him he just shook his head and laughed in that infuriating way of his. But you really couldn’t be irritated at him. It was impossible. He was your happy fairy, even if you wanted to kick him in the shins every two minutes for saying something dumb. Mom and dad said goodnight to Jae in the same way they have been since he was 10. “Tell Mrs.Park I say hello and don’t be a stranger.” Right after they leave and you’re washing the last dish, while Jae sits on the counter telling you about production for Day6’s new album, the phone rings. Before you can tell Jae not to answer it, he’s already taking the man's order. Fine. One more can't hurt. You weren’t anxious to end this day and return to bed alone, so you welcome the post-closing distraction. Cobbling together a plate from the leftovers you were about to bring home, you grab your keys and beckon Jae to follow you. 

“No need to bug mom and dad, we can take this one.” 

As you walk outside toward where your little yellow bug is parked, you feel Jae move behind you. You can feel his body close to yours and you stiffen instinctually. You’re not used to skinship anymore and you can feel the blood in your veins carbonate as Jae’s breath ghosts across the back of your neck. You stop dead in your tracks, eyes wide, flush creeping up your neck as you feel his hands- those damn hands- ghost along the side of your left arm. You squeak when his fingers brush against the back of your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. Your world spins. Fuck is he holding my hand? Do I want this to happen? He’s so close to me. Can he hear my heartbeat? 

“Jae-“ you begin to say, with absolutely no idea as to where the statement would go after. 

Luckily you don’t have to think of any sort of decisive move because Jae immediately snatches the keys from your now limp left hand with a cackle, running ahead to the car. 

“I’m driving!” You little fucking- oooh! 

You’re thankful for the cool evening breeze and dim street lights or you were sure to get a ribbing for the blazing red cheeks that you were sporting. You climb into the passenger's seat with the food on your lap and do your best to sink into invisibility. It doesn’t work. You’re convinced that he can hear your brain jackhammering away at the night's events. 

Did I want that to happen? Did that happen? He was so close to me. He felt so warm and the way he touched me. Running your hands over your arm, you could feel his touch like it had raced a burning path down your whole left side. Do I… like Jae? 

You glance over at him now and again as he puts the car in drive and begins the route to the destination. Jae, of course, is jabbering away about how everything has changed since he’s been gone and, “Omigod, is that ANOTHER pinkberry?” You find yourself nodding along passively while actively trying to figure out what the hell was going on in your brain. Much like his podcast, his voice became white noise by which you asked yourself questions you weren’t sure you wanted the answers to. Of course I love him. But do I like, like him? Never in your life have you felt more like a horny, confused teenager but as you glance over and watch Jae with one hand on the steering wheel, wind blowing through his hair, you know one thing for sure- Jae isn’t a kid anymore. And he isn’t your brother. 

It isn’t until you pull into a neighborhood about 10 minutes later that you remember that you’re here on a delivery. Yanking yourself from your reverie, but with unease still firmly lodged in your thoughts, you address the task at hand. 

“Jae, where are we?” 

“Uhhhh, 3051 Driver Rd.” 

Driver Road. You know this neighborhood but you can’t quite place where. If your previous safari into your possible romantic interest in Jae wasn’t jarring enough, you feel panic rising through your system like so much bile. Why do I know this neighborhood? Jae, unaware of any turmoil on your part, pulls up to the house in question and when your headlights wash over the yard your heart sinks into your throat. You’re going to be sick. 3051 Driver Rd. This is where Sean lives. 

You had met Sean Avery in your sophomore year of premed and had fallen head over heels in love with him. He was tall, attractive, ambitious, and he wanted you. You were star struck. It wasn’t until a year of ‘dating’ later that you unearthed the whole messy truth of his long string of side pieces and general douchebaggery. If that wasn’t enough, in the past year you heard the report of him almost catching a case with a high school senior in the area. You knew now that he was nothing but a predator and a coward. You had managed to avoid him since your explosive breakup but now it seemed you had very little choice.

“Sean fucking Avery” you seethe in the seat next to Jae. 

“What did he do to you?” Jae asked, taken aback by your sudden vitriol. 

“Shit, that wasn’t in my head was it?” Jae laughs a bit but sobers up quickly at your expression.

“Y/N you look really pale, are you okay? I don’t know your history with this guy but hey, you don’t have to deliver this. I’ll do it. Don’t you worry, love.” Jae places his hand on the top of your head and ruffles your hair a bit in an attempt to be comforting. The attempt helped. Your heart pricks up a bit at Jae’s term of endearment but it feels more deadened than it should. You’re sick of feeling like this. Of letting Sean steal your joy from you. It’s been too long for that shit. Pulling yourself together a bit, you shake yourself out of your head and steel yourself. 

“No, Jae, I’ve got this.” Jae looks at you with slight concern but shrugs nonetheless.

“Alright, well, I’m going with you okay? This dude really must’ve done a number on you if this is your response. And I’d like to see the bastard.” Jae’s eyes glinted with something dangerous that you’ve never seen in him before and it causes the same fire in you to spark. Let’s do this. 

With Jae by your side, you march up to the door with the delivery order and set it on the front steps. The doorbell is deafening in the still night and you have to remind yourself to breathe. You jump as the door swings wide and a pathetic looking man sporting a robe and a beer belly peeks from the inside. All of the breath that had been waiting in your lungs released and you feel your head go a little bit light with the realization that this was the man that you were in love with. 7 years later, gone was the debonair gentleman who could sweep you off your feet. In his stead stood a balding, fat, stiff man in boxers and a moth eaten robe. He grunts in acknowledgment of  the presence of other humans but it’s obvious that the Neanderthal hasn’t recognized you. He retrieves his food and goes fumbling in his robe pocket for his wallet. He fishes out a card and hands it to you. You take it from him and process the payment. 

Declined.

“Sorry, Sean, your card- it declined.” 

He huffs and makes a sound in the back of his throat that you can only describe as gross as you hand it back to him.

“It what!? What do you mean declined?” He stumbles forward a few steps and you automatically flinch backward into Jae. Jae’s hand comes up to your shoulder to ground you, a reminder that he’s still there. Sean’s movement wafts a smell of body odor and brown liquor. He always was a mean drunk. You decide to cut your losses while you can and keep the transaction as minimal as possible. No games.

“Your card, Sean, it declined. Do you have an alternate form of payment?” Sean whips open his wallet and roots around for a minute before retrieving a few crumpled up bills. He extends the cash but before you can swap his card for cash, his arm whips back. Looking at you sideways, suspicion drips from his slurred speech,

“How do you know my name?” 

Shit. Fuck. Dammit. 

You watch helplessly as the cogs turn in his inebriated brain and recognition washes over his face.

“Y/N! It’s you! What do you want from me now, bitch? Trying to take my money now too? Get out of here!” His voice steadily rises in volume and you can feel the walls of your panic closing in on you. Suddenly Jae steps in front of you, arm outstretched to the belligerent man. 

“You’re talking to me now. You’re done with her.” Jae holds himself with a confidence that you had only seen from him onstage. 

“Just pay for the food and we’ll be going.”

“And who the fuck are you?” Sean spits back, as if Jae were something distasteful that he had found on the bottom of his shoe.

“I’m Jae. Y/N’s boyfriend. Now I’d really love to take Y/N home tonight before it gets too much later. So if you can just pay for your meal, we’ll get going.”

Sean crumples up the bills and throws it into Jae’s chest. 

“Good luck with that bitch, kid. You’re gonna need it.” And with that he retreats inside and slams the door shut behind him. 

Jae immediately rushes to your side and wraps you in a big hug. Although similar in mechanics to the hug earlier that day, this one was far different in intent. You could feel it in his soul, that hug was meant to squeeze all of the fragmented pieces of you back together again and hold them until they stuck. You can feel your heartbeat slowing to match his and your breathing slowly regulates. 

Mollie is gonna have a lot of fun with this one.

Jae escorts you back to the car and there’s a thick silence that you can’t quite bring yourself to cut as he puts the car into drive. You know he is forming his own story of what happened between you and Sean in his head and you can’t tell if that’s better or worse than just reliving it and telling him the whole story- cops and testifying and court and all.

Once out of the neighborhood, Jae heaves a sigh and chuckles a bit. 

“Well he seemed lovely.” 

“Uh huh. He’s a real peach.” 

Jae looks over at you with an expression of dual concern and amused what-the-fucker-y. Did that really just happen? 

There is a beat of silence and solid eye contact before you both start cracking up. Unable to restrain yourself any further, you both dissolve into a kind of healing, deep belly laughter that shakes the entire car. Pulling up to your house, Jae throws the car into park and then turns to face you. 

“You don’t have to tell me anything, you know? It’s not my business. You’re my business. But asshats like him aren't. Just that I’m around to keep them away from you.” 

You sigh deeply, still recovering from the laugh attack, before giving him a brief bulleted list of the sheer shenanigans that Sean had pulled on you all those years ago. You watched as Jae’s face contorted over the course of the story, hardening into yet another study in fierceness that you were yet to see from him. 

“I really am okay, though Jae. He had me pretty fucked up for a little bit but honest, I’m okay. I did the therapy, I fought my battles. I just hadn’t done the last closure step of actually looking him in the eye and saying goodbye and good riddance. And I probably never would’ve if it weren’t for tonight.” You reach out and grab his hand instinctively. 

“Thank you, Jae. I really appreciate you doing that with me. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“You would’ve gotten your ass handed to you is what you would’ve done.” Jae states, deadpan.

“Jaeee!” You laugh, hitting him on the arm. 

“Oh, so now you can throw a punch? Okaaay, nice.” This little shit. 

Banter aside, Jae takes the key out of the ignition and gathers his things to get out of the car. As he closes the door, you hear him mutter “You need to pick better guys. You’re too great to end up with someone like that.” 

You don’t have any kind of answer to that, but you feel a lightness in your chest as his eyes burn into you. Jae walks you to your front door and all you can hear in your head is an echo of Jae’s declaration of “I’m Jae, Y/N’s boyfriend.” Is that what I want? 

You end up at your front door far too soon and the twinkling of the helicopters in the sky signals to you that it’s more than time for Jae to go home. Your heart sinks into your stomach at the thought of him leaving and you inwardly groan. 

Jae gives you one last hug goodnight and you know before he even releases you that this isn’t enough. Not even nearly. Your feelings, whatever they may be: love, like, general affection, haven’t been correctly quantified and expressed. This has been the best day you’ve had in months, and he was the deciding factor. You were grateful to have him there on your front door step, in his arms. But maybe, just maybe, if you’re able to express to him exactly how you feel about him in this moment, he’ll be able to help you out and translate exactly what this feeling means for your future together. Without thinking about it too much, you retreat from the hug and angle your face up to his so that your noses are almost touching. You sit like this for just a second. That sickening second that would allow him to retreat and tell you you’re an idiot for even thinking it. But he doesn’t retreat. Instead, your lips are brushing against one another in just the barest of whispers of a kiss. His lips are so soft. It’s over in an instant and as the chilly night air cuts between the two of you, you are all too aware of how disproportionately warm your face and neck have become. You smile up at Jae and he carries a similar, if not slightly more shocked, half smile. 

As if reading one another’s minds, you both understand that it’s wise to let one another think about the night's proceedings before any further rash decisions are made. In an attempt to preserve the spell of the night sky and the kiss and the chirping cicadas, neither of you say another word to one another but instead exchange content smiles that convey more than a goodnight ever could. With a slight bow of his head and a glide of his hand down the length of your arm, Jae walks backwards down your front steps and slips into the night, shaking his head slightly, trying and failing to conceal his smile. You watch him from the porch as he skips up to his house, before slipping into the warmth of your own home.

...

GIVE IT A LIKE IF YA LIKE

FEEDBACK IS MY LOVE LANGUAGE

#kpop #day6 #day6 jae #park jaehyung #slow burn #fluff #kpop fanfiction #day6 fluff #day6 au #fanfiction #skinny bone jones #friends to lovers

[itsbuckysworld]

Yoga 101 | pt.1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader Guest Appearance: Natasha World: AU.

Warnings: fluffy, mentions of smut in the form of thinking too much about how sexy bucky is, language.

Summary: Yoga would be the perfect activity for relaxing and just letting your mind go blank, if the yoga instructor wasn’t so fucking nice and so damn hot.

A/N: written for the #omnomwritingchallenge1.1k. My word choice was yoga, so I present to you, Yoga with Bucky. AND THIS IS SO LATE IM SO SORRY @omnomsauruswrites

Smooches! xoxo L

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED until i get back in the groove of writing and finish at least half the things I’ve planned to write.

Huge huge huge thanks to @delicatelyherdreams, @caitfairwrites and @sunmoonandbucky. Through the almost a month that took me to write this, they helped me with typos, cheering me on and assuring me this was worth writing. I will forever be so grateful to them, and they are now stuck with me loving them too much so whoops. Gifs not mine

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»»————-　　————-««

You stepped out of your car with your brand new yoga mat rolled nicely under your arm, and looked at the text on your phone and then at the building in front of you. This was the place. You groaned slightly.

Your friend Natasha had suggested – well, more like forced you – to sign up for a yoga class. You’d argued right back that you didn’t need it and that there was no use signing up for one when you could probably download an app and do the stretches at home just fine, but she was not having it. You remember her stern stare and calm voice telling you that you definitely needed it, and could benefit from it, and something about how you just had to believe her. Plus “yoga at home isn’t the same as yoga in a class”. It wasn’t even the same commitment, and before you could protest anymore, not that she’d back off if you did have something to say back, she had pulled up the page for a yoga place that had great classes and teachers, saying she had tried it herself.

A yoga class was the last place you wanted to be today. Your day hadn’t been the best and you were still on the fence about the whole thing despite knowing deep down you needed something to help you destress. Your job was growing more and more stressful as the days went by, and your limbs ached in the mornings because you had so much pent up tension keeping you from a restful night’s sleep. On top of that, you didn’t have time anymore to fit in any other type of exercise to keep yourself active and it was starting to bother you. Even if you weren’t on top of fitness and gym trends, you liked to try and keep your body active, it was part of a healthy life and right now, your life was just work, work, work; stress, stress, stress.

So you frowned as you looked at the time slots, the classes and what not, and before Natasha had gone home from your place that night, you had signed up, quickly so as not to retract, and decided to make space for the supposedly never intrusive, always helpful – as Nat had put it – activity.

You found the room you were supposed to be in and set up at a perfect distance from the front – not too close you’d be all up next to the teacher like an eager student, and not too far that you’d miss out on what the teacher explained – and sat quietly as the room filled in.

You placed your hands on your thighs as you kneeled and exhaled, eyes closed.

You wish you hadn’t as the ruckus eased around you and next time you did glance around, there was a man setting up at the front, clearly the teacher.

To be clear, you didn’t care that the instructor was a man. What you were absolutely freaking out about – battling to remain completely calm on the outside – was that the instructor was a Greek god of a man.

“Good day class. How’s everyone doing?” All the ladies and the one other guy in the room greeted him back, but not you. Your brain didn’t know what words were anymore.

He invited the class to sit on their mats in a relaxed position, and you quietly took him in. The chiseled jaw, the lean muscles – God bless that tank top he was wearing. His hair was pushed back somewhat messily to a small bun, some strands hugging the back of his neck and a soft beard. For a moment you were so captivated by how good he looked that you stumbled from your seated position to what he called next a moment too late. He was so gorgeous you hadn’t even noticed or cared for the shining metal arm – if anything that dark metal with gold accents really suited him – but you definitely didn’t look at it. Not when he did warrior pose and showed his back muscles.

Delicious.

“And breathe deeply,” he said, his voice resonating around the room.

Breathe? Oh, right! You were supposed to breathe, and focus on the class and relax. You shook your head, doing the best you could to maintain your balance as you copied his moves and changed poses.

For the most part, you thought yoga would be simple. A couple of nice stretches and breathing exercises to clear your head and give you peace of mind – and really pop your back because, God, was your office chair a torture device. On paper it sounded delightful, but this? The truth was it was absolute torture and more than a little embarrassing.

You struggled through every pose, noticing how minimal the looks from the rest of the class towards the teacher were. The Adonis of a man would call something like Half Moon to the left to warm up, and no one would bat an eye, switching their bodies to extend an arm and a leg in the air, somehow keeping perfect balance, and yet there you were, doing the pose too late, focusing on copying the person next to you to get it right and fighting for your life to not fall flat on your face, the leg that was planted on the ground shaking with stress.

And you’d expect to move to Half Moon on the right, right? But he would transition over to whatever King Dancer on the left was, and there you were back at zero trying to figure out what the hell was happening.

You lost your footing more than once. Tried – and failed – your best to discreetly shuffle your yoga mat even further from people, because, you know, yoga mats are supposed to not slip.

You could feel your face burning red hot, not only from the physical activity that was rushing to be up to speed with these yoga freaks and fighting “Lady Gravity” for the most part of an hour, but from failing miserably at even the relaxed poses in front of everyone, specially when you locked eyes with the instructor and his lips curved into a smile, watching you struggle with the extended side angle, clearly laughing at your excuse of a yoga pose. God, why did he have to be so cute? You think you would be a little less flustered had he been a woman or anyone other than every hot movie star melted together watching you fail miserably.  

Yet you couldn’t keep your eyes off him. His voice was gruff and soothing, strong and tender. He would remind everyone to breathe and you found it hard to, because he gave you chills. The way he exhaled along with some words, making your mind wander. He walked around the class at some point, observing people’s forms, correcting positions and giving tips. You were absolutely sure you’re going to have wild dreams just based on how warm his hand was when he touched your elbow, indicating you to extend your arm properly while doing Balancing Table, his voice fading away as you kept impure thoughts at bay.

As the class did final stretches he kept his eyes on you, that smile of his still there, and you could see it mocking you. You could hear it in the way there was a bit of a laugh at the beginning of his sentences, and you puffed out your cheeks with a frown. He was cute but he was an ass for laughing at you. He moved to extend a leg almost to his forehead, hands grabbing his foot and eyebrows raised at you, before talking to the whole class.

“Let’s extend into Heron, right leg up” and without hesitation everyone did so, the same pose he was showing you before.

Oh wait, was he teaching you what was coming next? It was a relatively easy pose – had it not been for the position of your other leg – and for the last few minutes of the class, he kept transitioning into poses before calling them out, looking straight at you and giving you a small smile when you did your best to copy them. Okay, a little less of an ass now, still very cute. Damn.

The room started to clear out after a few moments in Corpse – a pose you knew well – and you took your time reincorporating afterwards, too comfy to move. Then you arched your back that somehow still felt impossibly sore – weren’t you here to release that tension? Where was that desired pop? – before you stood to pack up your things.

“Hi there”

You recognised the voice behind you, the one you had been hearing it for the past 40 minutes, giving directions and huskily delivering material for you to think about on lonely nights. Another shake of your head put you in the right mindset to face him.

“Hi!” your response was a little excited, but you didn’t have energy to feel embarrassed anymore. “Sorry,” you said, and the man shook his head, chuckling slightly.

“You’ve never done yoga before, then?”

“That obvious?” He laughed out loud this time, but you knew he wasn’t laughing at you.

“What gave it away, my terrible balance or my deer caught in headlights face at everything you said?”

“I think it was more the fact that you only knew Corpse.”

You were in trouble. He was even more good looking up close. From the distance you had been at during the class, you could only see defined muscle. From arms length, he was so much more. Smooth skin. Long dark lashes that made ocean blue eyes pop like none other you had ever seen. A killer smile that made the cutest crinkles appear by his eyes, and his laugh was gorgeous. All in all, it wasn’t fair. Whatever flaw he had better come up really quick.

“I don’t really mind the stumbling, Lord knows I can’t keep Half Lotus Tree for long –” you gave him a pointed look and he clasped his hands in front of his chest – “you have no idea what that is. Right” The two of you chuckled as you danced on the balls of your feet, biting the inside of your cheek. He took a deep breath and continued, “Point is, you shouldn’t sign up for an advanced class if it’s your first time. Mainly because you could injure yourself.”

“Wait, advanced?” You blanked. “I mean, duh, of course it was advanced, but I signed up for beginner.” You fished inside your bag for your phone.

“I don’t teach any beginner classes. I don’t think we have any this time around.” He grimaced, an apologetic look painting his features.

“No, I definitely –”

Advanced Yoga, 6PM, room 505 – you read it when you pulled up the email, eyes running over the words over and over. Everything made sense now. You sigh and run a hand down your face.

“Okay that’s… great. My mistake. This whole thing was probably a mistake.” He made motion to say something but you put your hands up, waving them in front of you. “I should go. Sorry again for… that. Thanks for the class, I guess.” And with that you turned on your heel and walked away, wanting the earth to swallow you whole. Did you seriously just go in the wrong class, made a fool of yourself, and then thanked the guy for it?

It was decided. You’d call and try to get your money back, yoga was clearly a bad idea. You stepped outside and fumbled with your bag in search for your keys, huffing and puffing, blowing a strand of hair off your face. A hand is placed on your shoulder and they turn you around.

“Excuse me, miss?”

You look to find the yoga instructor again. Bucky, the email said. You had missed that too the first time reading through. If anything it’s nice to finally put a name to the face, anything to stop your brain from calling him a hunk of a man.

He’s fixing his bag on his shoulder and giving you a concerned look that warms you inside. For some reason it’s sweet almost, how he looks at you and gives you a side smile. There’s something about how welcoming his features are that you can’t quite place. “I know it’s none of my business but… please- uh, would you consider continuing yoga?”

You arch an eyebrow at him, and he takes his hand off your shoulder, taking a few steps back as he stammers through his sentence and waves his hands in front of him.

“I mean. It’s really good. I know I probably sound like the cliché yogi in movies, but… It helped me a lot, at the beginning I didn’t even want to try, but it helped so much that… That’s a story for another time I guess –” He chuckled then, scratching the back of his head with that metal hand of his and curiosity peaks inside you – “I just know, it’s a great outlet, or aid, to whatever your life is right now.”

He didn’t assume or act like he could read you, and didn’t try to sell you that you’re clearly stressed – maybe so much that people can see it from down the street – and yoga is the magical ointment that takes it all away. He’s not trying to convince you to stay because he gets paid or because he just wants more people in his class. The way he looks at you and speaks to you, he’s really sharing something that helped him for the sake of it.

You sigh.

“I don’t know. I clearly can’t stay in an advanced class. Maybe I should just try again when there’s a beginner and...” You shrugged – “I don’t know”

He bites down on his bottom lip and it takes a lot from you to not look, to not let your mind wander.

“Are you free Wednesdays and Fridays?” His question snapped you out of your thoughts – so much for trying not to get them derailed – and he cleared his throat. “I teach an intermediate class those days. Same time. It’d be easier to show you the basic moves, and maybe you could come a little earlier and I could run you through them and… get you up to speed in a way?”

You gape at him for a few seconds, his scrunched up brows and soft features, almost resembling a puppy. You won’t admit it just yet but Bucky is selling you on this yoga thing too well. A nervous chuckle escapes your lips, and your fingers play with your card keys. Intermediate wasn’t beginner, there was no way, right? The universe must be saying something and you should be listening.

“Maybe yoga isn’t the thing for me, you know? Intermediate could still be too hard for me to–” There’s a car honking by the entrance that cuts your sentence short. Bucky motions the car to wait and he turns to look at you with understanding covering his face. And yet it’s like Bucky can read your hesitation, almost tipping over to say yes, and he has one last pitch to finish selling you on everything.

“I get it. But hey, look, if you want less commitment to start –” He opens his bag and pulls out a notepad and pen. He uses his knee to scribble something, and he’s handing you the ripped piece of paper with his metal arm, the other hand busy steadying his bag back on his shoulder – “There’s this free open air yoga group on Saturdays. 4PM. I join them most times, worth a shot.” The smile he gives you has your knees feeling like jelly – you would have gotten a great use of some jelly legs back in class to do any of those twists. A little late now, joints – with a little wave and a wink added to that dashing smile of his, he’s leaving you there on the lobby, staring at the piece of paper with the address and other details of this “zero commitment” group, scribbled in his neat handwriting. You sigh knowing very well you’re not going to be coming back to yoga.

»»————-　　————-««

Damn you, Bucky Barnes.

That’s all you’re thinking as you lock your car and enter the fated park on Saturday. Damn him for being so cute, and such a fierce advocate for stupid yoga.

Natasha has this gloating look on her face as she follows you. A proud, shit eating grin. She hasn’t stopped crowing that she sold you on yoga, that you were wrong, and she was right about you ending up loving it, so much so that you even mentioned a Saturday class – one she had to tag along for. She’s really feeling like she’s on a high horse right now, and who are you to knock her off? You could live with a little mocking. Besides, the last thing you wanted was for her to know the real reason you were coming to this yoga class was that damned Bucky Barnes. Although, the moment you find him, she’ll definitely smell it off you.

Damn you, Bucky Barnes.

You didn’t want to even admit it to yourself, but after three days of looking at the stupid piece of paper, and having the time and place burned into memory, you couldn’t lie to your own face anymore; you were going to go to that stupid outside class.

As the two of you near the area where you see people set up mats on the grass, you’re not paying attention to Nat as she talks about whatever. You’re too busy trying to spot Mr. Too-Hot-For-Words in the distance.

Jesus, why are you so desperate to see him? Oh, right, he was cute and nice to you, that’s why.

When you do spot him, there’s a sudden urge, a tingle all over your body, to turn back around and go home, hide under your covers and down a pint of ice cream. Abort. There’s no way you can do a yoga class with him around! Not only are you a beginner, but you have learned in just one instance that you can’t focus when he’s there to look at. This was a horrible idea.

But just your luck, he spots you as well and your eyes meet. His beautiful, beautiful eyes. No turning back now. Damn him for looking so good in those gym shorts and fitted sports wear. Damn him for having his hair down, does he not know how he looks? Damn him for rushing to meet you, a wide grin drawn on his face, as if he’d been waiting for you.

“Hey,” he places a hand on your shoulder, “you came!” “I came.” You say shakily, cheeks feeling on fire, an awkward laugh catching in your throat and you hear Natasha immediately going silent. Not good, not good.

Bucky glances up and greets Nat with a firm handshake, introducing himself, and then returning his attention to you, with that teeth baring smile of his, crinkles by his eyes. There’s something wrong with your heart, it’s beating too fast.

He claps his hands together and clears his throat.

“I’m glad you could come. So this ‘class’–” he air quotes – “is very… What’s the word? Free?” another chuckle escapes his lips and the wind moves his hair, making him look like he’s in a commercial for something – his scent, definitely. He smells so good.

“You just join whatever little group you feel like and you all do a routine.” he waves his hand, motioning for you to follow him a little farther from the group, where his mat is placed. “I was thinking maybe you can be with me, and I can show you the basics, if that’s ok with you?”

You stutter, trying to find the words to say, and in a last attempt at some help, you turn towards Nat, hoping she’s read the situation and can help you out, but just like the little shit she can be, she’s just giving you a knowing smirk and not saying a single word.

“Sure,” you look back to Bucky. “Nat and I would love to” “Uh, actually…”

Okay, now you want to say something Natasha? She gives you a coy smile.

“I think I’m going to join that group over there, they seem more up to my speed.”

You glare at her. Of course Natasha, what a great friend, you’re basically screaming at her with your eyes and she’s just nonchalantly acting like she doesn’t know what she’s doing wrong. You begin to hate that she knows you too well, and that she’s so cheeky and mischievous you should have seen something like this coming. You should have not let her tag along for this damned class.

“You’re not new to yoga as well?” Bucky asks, genuinely interested, and Nat waves a hand in front of her face as if dismissing the idea. “Oh no, I used to go to the center, I was in a class with Ms. Potts last year.”

“Oh! Ms. Potts is so amazing!” Nat nods at him “In that case, yeah, that group would be more up your alley.”

“Cool.” In a simple skip she’s gone, leaving you with Bucky who looks straight out of a photoshoot.

Thankfully he didn’t read any of the looks shared between you and your best friend. That or he’s deciding to ignore them, which, bless him if he is; the last thing you need is any more embarrassment.

“Shall we begin?” There’s that forsaken smile again, like he doesn’t know it makes you lose the ability of speech whenever he flashes it at you. Like he doesn’t know he’s got to have lines of women fantasising about him while he does his poses. Like he doesn’t know your heartbeat is the same as whenever you jump on a treadmill and do cardio.

You’re giving yourself the pep-talk of a lifetime inside your head. You can do this, all you have to do is stay focused in the stretches and positions and, no matter what, do not embarrass yourself by letting your mind wander off to more… Bucky-related things, when you’ve literally been left alone with him under the wonderful shade of oak trees. Easy enough, right? He isn’t even that cute. You can do this, you got this. You so got this.

He grabs your mat from your hands and sets it up perpendicular to his, offering his hand to help you get down to the first seated position and making shivers run down your spine.

This is going to be impossible.

Damn you, Bucky Barnes. Damn you, Natasha.

»»————-　　————-««

A/N: Hope you guys liked this! Part two will be coming tomorrow :) What did you think of yogi bucky?

Please any feedback is greatly appreciated, i was very doubtful of this piece.

Have a good day lovelies!

HERES MY ASK   |||  Masterlist

xoxo, Little L.

#omnomwritingchallenge1.1k #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #fluff #yoga #yoga AU #this is so late i am so sorry #writing challenges i joined

[artificialqueens]

Sweet like Sugar (Branjie) - Delia

AN: Hey lovelies! This is my first time writing fic, so please be gentle but also let me know what you think…a little Branjie sugar mommy for your nerves x ps: if you have any questions, comments or concerns feel free to hit me up on @thvnderfuckz pps: tw for some, very minor, implied daddy kink

BLH

25/F/New York City

I’m a 25 year old dancer from Toronto, working to start my career. I like fashion, nights out, and travelling. Seeking a partner who is fun, adventurous, and willing to support me in pursuit of my dream.

Brooke Lynn read over her bio for what must have been the seventh time in as many minutes and let out a sigh. Each draft that she’d written had sounded more robotic than the last. It’d been a long time since she had to write anything like this, having deleted Tinder, Bumble, and HER off her phone not long after she left Toronto. Since moving to New York, she’d discovered that she much preferred going out and finding women to hook up with in person. With her long blonde hair, dancer’s physique, and innate flirtiness, it was easy enough to find someone willing to take her home for the night. Easier, at least, than talking to a girl on an app for weeks, only to find out that she was interested in a long term commitment, and having to deal with their messy emotions after Brooke told them that she wasn’t interested. If there was one thing that she did not do, it was relationships.

And now, she was trying to get paid to be in one.

She’d be lying if she said that she never thought she’d be in a position like this. From the time Brooke had told her friends and family that she’d wanted to pursue dance as a full time career, she’d been given the “wouldn’t you rather something more secure” speech more times, and by more people than she could be bothered to count. Even her older sister Katya, who’d chosen to make abstract semi-sacrilegious art her vocation in life, had tried to suggest to her that she do something with a future that was less uncertain. But Brooke knew that she was born to dance, no matter what anyone tried to tell her to the contrary. If anything, their doubt fuelled her drive, and made it all the sweeter when she’d been offered a role in ensemble of the Broadway production of Moulin Rouge! upon her graduation from Ryerson. The moment that she’d stepped off the plane at JFK and stepped into the apartment that she would be sharing with another ensemble member from the show, Scarlet, she felt as though she was living her wildest dreams come true.

In all of her excitement at the time, Brooke forgot that the most wonderful dreams often lead to the harshest wake ups.

Four months into her run, the cast began to notice a dwindling number of fans at the stage door after each performance. Five months into her run, cast and crew alike began whispering about finding new jobs soon. Six months into her run, on a particularly humid Sunday in July, the cast and crew were gathered by the production team before everyone left the theatre and were told that the show would be closing at the beginning of September, after the Labour Day weekend. Brooke immediately started panicking at the prospect of being out of a job in one of the most expensive cities in the world. There was nothing she wanted less than to have to move back home to Toronto with her tail between her legs.

It had been two years since Moulin Rouge! closed, and although Brooke had managed to avoid making the move back home, she hadn’t been able to get a job performing since. She was always too tall, or too technical, or didn’t have enough personality. She’d been able to find a job in the meantime, teaching classes at a dance studio in Tribeca, but the money she made from that was barely enough to cover her necessities. It certainly didn’t cover luxuries such as brunch with your ex-roommate, as Brooke found out after her credit card was declined at her and Scarlet’s bi-weekly date. She barely had time to try and form an apology before she witnessed Scarlet reaching into her purse and placing a crisp one hundred dollar bill on the table, telling the waitress to keep the sixty dollars in change. Her embarrassed expression transformed into one of jaw-dropped shock as the redhead pulled her from the restaurant.

On the walk back to the subway, Scarlet revealed to Brooke that she’d been various “mutually beneficial relationships” with different men since she’d first moved to the city when she was 19, and that it had been her main source of income even while she was performing.

“It’s easy money, plus it’s kind of empowering,” explained Scarlet in her low voice, which still held a hint of the drawl indicative of her Southern upbringing. “It’s like, they have the money but I have all the emotional power. Without me generously donating my time to them, all these men have are their frigid marriages, or soul sucking jobs. A lot of the time the only thing standing between these powerful, rich men and a complete nervous break is me. And if that’s not power, I don’t know what is. So if I have to laugh at a few bad jokes and kiss a couple of CEOs to be able to live the kind of life I want, all while knowing that I could end any of these men at any given moment, then so be it.”

Oddly inspired by her friend’s speech, Brooke downloaded the sugar dating app onto her phone later that day.

And now here she was, sitting in front of her laptop at 11:00 pm on a Saturday night, drinking a bottle of wine and stress reading her three sentence bio for at least the tenth time. Fuck it, she thought, this is as good as it’s gonna get.

After clicking the “submit” button, Brooke was redirected to a page showing all of the potential sugar daddies in her area. As she scrolled through pages upon pages of photos of headless torsos, she became increasingly regretful of her decision to not filter out men immediately.

CEToEs

Disgusting.

KinkyExec

Nope.

DominantDaddy

Absolutely not.

Brooke was a lesbian, and had known that since she was 14. However, Scarlet told her that there were far more sugar daddies than sugar mommies in the New York area, and that a lot of the time the men didn’t necessarily even want sex. But as she clocked the usernames of several of the daddies on the app, it was clear that the redhead had either lied to her or was somehow the most blissfully oblivious girl in the city.

The blonde promptly returned to her settings page and deselected men as an interest. When she returned to the home page, she was delighted to see the profiles of fifty-or-so women pop up. She began scrolling again, hoping that someone would catch her eye.

WorldsMostPunkRockMoms

Meh. The two blonde women in the thumbnail picture were definitely beautiful, but Brooke didn’t know how she felt about getting involved with a couple who had a child.

Detoxicant

The woman in this picture looked like she’d had a lot of plastic surgery. Still, she was hot. Brooke tapped the little heart icon next to the photo and continued scrolling.

Toward the bottom of the page there was one profile that had a little green dot next to the thumbnail. Brooke took a little comfort in the fact that she wasn’t the only one on this app at this time on a weekend night. She clicked on the profile and two pictures filled her screen. The first was a headless torso shot of a woman wearing an oversized Versace t-shirt as a dress. Although her face was out of frame, Brooke could tell that the woman’s hair was a caramel brown, at least at the tips, and went to just below her collarbone. The second image was another faceless picture, but in this one the woman was wearing a spaghetti strapped red dress, showing off her deeply tanned skin and an, in Brooke’s opinion, weirdly specific chest tattoo of a hairless cat atop a red rose. The bio beneath the pictures read:

V 23/F/New York City

no face pics because i gotta stay lowkey. promise i’m not gonna kill you or anything like that, just lookin for a cute girl i can take out and trEat right.

Brooke rolled her eyes at the innuendo and let out a small huff of a laugh. The girl obviously had some sort of sense of humour, which she supposed was important. And it was pretty impressive that someone so young was in a position where they could support someone else financially.

The green dot was still displayed next to V’s username. She was still online. Brooke took a deep breath and clicked the chat icon at the bottom of the screen, typing out a quick, hopefully flirty-but-without-coming-on-too-strong, message.

BLH: I hate to break it to you, but saying ‘I’m not gonna kill you’ sounds exactly like what someone who would kill me would say ;)

Brooke quickly exited out of the app and opened up Instagram to check and see if Katya or her wife had added any new photos of their cats or dog. Before she could even begin typing her sister’s name into the search bar, her phone dinged, letting her know that V had responded.

V: hate to break it to you babe but saying youre looking for a partner sounds like youre tryna open up a lawyers office

Brooke swore under her breathe. She knew she sounded too robotic.

BLH: Oh god, I’m sorry. I’ve never done anything

V: lol relax mami, youre cute with all your worrying

She bit down on her lower lip, half in frustration and half trying to suppress a smile. V was already teasing her about her worrying, and they hadn’t even met yet.

BLH: Aren’t you more of the mommy in this situation though ;)

V: i mean i usually prefer daddy ;)

Brooke felt a quick rush of heat to her center at the word “daddy”. She closed her eyes trying to stave away memories of various nights in the alleyways behind various bars with various women.

BLH: I think I can make that work ;)

V: listen, not to be too upfront but youre gorgeous and id love to take you out sometime if youd want?

V: we could meet and figure out an allowance or something if thats what you want! ive done this once before and it was a really good experience for both of us…i gave her around $8000 a month for rent and stuff but we could figure out something specially for you if you need somethin different

Brooke could’ve sworn she felt her heart stop when she read the word “month”. She’d never been with one single person for more than three nights, much less on a month to month basis. But V seemed nice at least. And if not nice, she was at least experienced at this kind of arrangement, and was apparently quite generous to boot. Eight thousand dollars a month would cover her rent and utilities almost four times over. Eight thousand dollars a month would mean that she wouldn’t have to worry about getting her card declined at brunch. Eight thousand dollars a month meant that she wouldn’t have to pick up every possible shift at the studio, and could spend more time going to auditions.

Eight thousand dollars a month meant that she was definitely not turning V down right off the bat.

BLH: I’d love that. Name the time and place, I’m free when you are.

BLH: Daddy ;)

Brooke Lynn Hayhoe doesn’t do relationships — but for eight thousand dollars a month, she was willing to fake it.

#rpdr fanfiction #branjie #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #scarlet envy #lesbian au #sugar mommy au #sweet like sugar #delia #concrit welcome #tw daddy kink

[1989dreamer]

In Your Little Werewolf Oven

On AO3

Summary: Danny moves to New York City and ends up opening a bakery called Little Werewolf Oven and most of his clientele ends up being supernatural.

As his reputation grows, Danny finds himself overwhelmed, so he advertises a position and gets not one, but two blasts from the past in the form of Derek Hale and his boyfriend, Stiles Stilinski.

Things work out great for Danny because now, not only does he have more time to do the things he wants, but he also meets his future husband through Derek and Stiles.

Life couldn’t be greater, Danny thinks.

Note: Andrew Erickson would be played by Aldis Hodge if on screen.

Main relationship: Danny/Andrew

Background relationship: Derek/Stiles

                                                                                                                     ~ * ~

Danny makes his break with Beacon Hills when he chooses colleges. He graduates high school a semester early and then heads out.

No one even notices that he’s gone.

Well, no one except cousin Miguel who asks if he feels safe, if he thinks he needs help with the supernatural, and if he wants to keep in touch.

Yes, no, and not really.

Derek Hale is simultaneously the kindest and most fearsome person Danny knows. Mostly because there was a rumor floating around school before he left that Derek had killed both his uncle and a junior at the high school, Vernon Boyd, the third. Well, the uncle was still alive, but Boyd wasn’t, so Danny kindly turns down Derek’s offer of protection and then promptly fucks off to the other side of the country, hoping the distance will be enough.

And it is. For seven years. Long enough to get two bachelor’s in science, physiology and computer science, and to accidentally walk into a cooking class and end up in culinary school just so he can open his own bakery.

He is a bona fide business owner now.

He has no one working for him, so he is only open five hours a day and the rest of his time is spent baking.

It is, in a word, exhausting, but it is his work and it makes him happy.

Business is good for about three months, and then some big name celebrity comes through, orders some of his haupia—which he only made because it was easy and he could set it aside once it was done and not worry about it—and raves about it online.

After that, there is no peace.

Danny can’t get anything done aside from baking and making haupia, and he becomes despondent, trudging from one minute to the next, not even enough time or energy to swipe right on his dating app.

Yes. While Danny was in college, he had also taken time to create a new dating app for LGBTQ+ people. He has gone on a few dates using the app, and the experience is far superior to Grindr or just meeting someone at a bar. But now he doesn’t even have time for that.

He is horny and tired and he really needs help.

Well. Online applications are a thing. So, all he has to do is find three minutes to post something. He finds the time the next morning during breakfast, so he types up a job requirement and application and posts it.

By that afternoon, he has sixty-some applicants.

Okay. So it will take more than three minutes this time.

Great.

                                                                                                                    ~ * ~

Three weeks later, Danny still hasn’t sifted through all the applications. He is desperate, yes, but also too busy. It would be nice if he can just point at someone and assign them to work with him.

He has, however, managed to make an update to his app, and has received favorable feedback. So, while he is still unable to take a moment to breathe, at least he has money to hire someone to go through the applications for the bakery.

It’s a selkie named Ryliegh, visiting her cousin who lives in the apartment across the hall from him, and she is fantastic at everything except baking.

Danny feels a little more at ease with her watching his back. His store, while crowded with humans of every shape, size, and color, is also filled to the brim with supernatural beings who like to take pictures with the bakery’s sign, get something to go, and then hang out on the minimal furniture Danny had grudgingly added a few months back to compete with the Starbucks two blocks away from him.

Why he is a supernatural draw, Danny doesn’t know. Could be the sign.

There are very few things Danny has kept from his life in Beacon Hills, but a stage-whispered conversation between Stiles Stilinski and Scott McCall made the list, and his bakery is named Little Werewolf Oven.

Anyway. Danny views the supernatural as closeted. They don’t want the world to know they exist because the world would respond negatively. Hell, the first week he’d been open, a hunter had stopped by to ask him about the sign, and Danny had pretended to be obsessed with Jacob from Twilight—not that Taylor Lautner isn’t a hotty-mchotty who Danny had actually crushed on for a quick minute.

After the hunter left, it had taken everything in him to 1) not call Derek Hale to come make sure he was okay (not having Derek’s number helped) and 2) to remain open. What if the hunters came into his bakery all the time? They seemed set in their ways, and he knew it wouldn’t just be the supernatural population that was in danger. He himself might be targeted for “being different.”

Anyway. That hunter hasn’t come back nor has he told his friends about Danny, and so the supernatural and LGBTQ+ populations have claimed him.

And then Danny made haupia and never has peace anyway.

                                                                                                                    ~ * ~

Ryleigh corners him a month after he hired her and slaps a stack of papers into his chest.

“What’s this?” he asks, amused if a little sad that they had reverted to this non-technological way of doing things. It’s so much easier to look at his phone than to read physical texts.

“Reviews,” Ryleigh says. “And an application. I suggest you hire him. He’s perfect.”

“Reviews of what?” Danny flips through the stack quickly. Ah, the bakery. It is now officially on some site that directs tourists around. Great. He is going to be swamped.

Then suddenly, in the middle of the stack is a job application, generic, hand-filled. Pretty script. Neat words. Derek Hale.

Danny drops the papers.

“What?” Ryleigh demands. “What’s wrong?”

“I know this guy.” Danny picks up Derek’s resume. On paper, Derek does sound perfect. And he even has work experience in a bakery. Who knew?

“Is he bad?” Ryleigh asks.

“Not exactly,” Danny replies, still studying Derek’s skills. “In fact, why don’t you give him a call, see if he can make it in for a test run soon.”

“Sure thing, boss.” Ryleigh wanders away, phone already on her ear. Danny picks up the rest of the reviews and sticks them in his office for when he, maybe, will have time to read them. Some of them look so sweet.

For now, though, someone’s gotta make more haupia because someone announced, on their social media no less, with about 10,000 followers, that tomorrow is the official day of the week that they will have it.

Well. At least it’s just one day a week. Danny can deal with one day.

                                                                                                                    ~ * ~

Derek Hale returns Ryleigh’s call by the following afternoon, and she patches in Danny so they can talk.

“How soon can you start?” Danny asks, prepared for anything from a week to a month.

“Is tomorrow too soon?” Derek asks instead, and Danny can’t believe his good fortune.

“Sure, yeah,” he says, and then realizes he sounds desperate. Well he is, so fuck it. “Okay, Derek, you’re hired. Just bring in your social security card, driver’s license, and a bank account number with routing information so that I can direct deposit your paycheck.”

“Wonderful,” Derek deadpans. “See you tomorrow.”

Ryleigh gives him a thumbs up before she heads out for her night class. She’s taking computer science because she likes designing mobile games. Danny supports her wholeheartedly except he never downloads her apps. He doesn’t need the distraction. He still doesn’t have any time for dates, much less wasting time on his phone.

Derek will be such a relief. Too bad it isn’t tomorrow yet.

Whatever. Sleeves up. Maybe if he gets done before 9:00 pm, he can treat himself to that new Italian fine dining restaurant that opened around the corner from his apartment building.

                                                                                                                    ~ * ~

Derek is already at the bakery by the time Danny rolls in at 6:00 am. The Italian was delicious last night, and Danny’s in a good mood which only gets better when he starts showing Derek the ropes. Derek is easy to train and easy-going. He has a bit of sharp wit that comes out when he’s not guarding it, and Danny feels honored that he gets to see it.

Derek’s smile is quick and easy. Danny doesn’t ever remember seeing it in Beacon Hills.

“So why’d you leave Beacon Hills?” he asks once he’s made up an employee file for Derek, noting that although it’s good, his license is fake. “And how old are you anyway?”

Derek rolls his shoulders. “Beacon Hills got too small,” he says, tightly. “The Argents no longer have jurisdiction over hunters there, so another hunting regime moved in. And I’m 28.”

“Yeah? Why does your I.D. say you’re thirty then?”

Derek refuses to make eye contact when he says, “Since my birth certificate was destroyed in the fire, Laura added two years to my age so that she could leave me on my own while she worked. I haven’t changed the I.D. yet because I don’t want to lose that part of her.”

“Understood,” Danny says. “Well, do you have a new I.D.? ‘Cause this one’s about to expire.”

Derek smiles, relief evident in his eyes. “Yeah. I’ll get that done in a couple of days when Stiles gets here.”

“Stiles is coming here too?” For some reason, Danny thought that if Derek left Beacon Hills, he’d leave everything behind. To bring Stiles is to bring the essence of Beacon Hills.

“Yeah, well, it’s kind of rude to leave your boyfriend behind.”

“Boyfriend?!” Danny can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of him. Derek glares at him. “Sorry. I just. I didn’t ever think Stilinski would get a boyfriend. Or laid, for that matter.”

“Yeah, well, he’s excellent in bed.” Derek stiffly turns back to the breads, kneading just a little too hard to be human.

“Easy on that,” Danny warns him. “I don’t need to replace these counters.”

“I don’t need you to hassle my boyfriend,” Derek returns, but he does lighten his touch.

“So, Stiles is coming here. Cool. What’s he going to do?”

Derek shrugs. “Beats me. He got his degree in anthropology and zoology. He’s trying to prove that certain supernaturals evolved as a missing link between humans and some older species. It’s really fascinating, but he loves talking about it, so you’ll probably get a rundown on it if you see him.”

“That sounds cool actually,” Danny says. “Now. Have you ever heard of haupia?”

                                                                                                                    ~ * ~

Stiles does indeed arrive within a couple of days and Derek takes an hour to run to the DMV to update his license.

Then, when they get back, Stiles asks Danny if he still needs help.

Danny looks at the sea of people and then back at Derek and Stiles. “Yes,” he says, and Stiles hands him the same documents he’d asked Derek for.

“All right, you’re hired.”

Stiles grins, tying on an apron and jumping on the register. The line moves quickly, and suddenly the bakery is empty, for the first time in what feels like years.

“Cool,” Danny says. And then heads into his office to read the reviews from Ryleigh.

By the time he surfaces, the bakery is closed, Derek and Stiles have cleaned up, and Derek is prepping for tomorrow while Stiles sits on a stool and chats at him.

“Hey, thanks for coming out here,” Danny tells them. “It’s really awesome that you’re here.”

“Yeah, well,” Stiles says, “Beacon Hills kind of imploded on us. Did Derek tell you about the new hunter family that moved in? Right bastards, the lot of them.”

“He’s mad because they saw my eyes and decided that I needed to die.”

“Aren’t you mad about that too?”

Derek shrugs. “Yeah, I mean, that’s where I grew up. But Beacon Hills itself hasn’t been kind to me in a long time. I’ve got friends out here from before I followed my sister back. We’re actually going to meet one of them today.” Derek shares a look with Stiles. “Do you want to come with us?”

“You realize that I’m gay, right?” Danny says. He can’t help giving Derek a knowing look.

Derek snorts. “So is he. Do you want to come with us?”

Danny thinks of his lack of love life and lets it influence his answer. “Yes. I’d like to meet him.”

“Settled then,” Stiles says. “We’re meeting him at that deli on 23rd. His name is Andrew.”

“Are you going to tell me anything else about him?”

“He’s six feet tall, likes to dress well,” Stiles says. “He works as an analyst for a company close by. And he loves your baked goods.”

“So I have already met him?”

“Yeah,” Derek says. “And he thinks you’re cute. He hopes you think he’s cute too.” Then, Derek dusts off his hands, puts away everything, and washes up. “We have about an hour before we’re supposed to meet Andrew.”

“I’ll meet you there,” Danny says, waving them away. They leave, exchanging knowing smirks. Whatever. It’s cool.

It’s a stretch to think he’ll get laid today, but the potential of meeting someone makes Danny a little giddy. He needs a quick shower, a touch up of his cologne, and then maybe he’ll have some time to clean out his inbox.

Oh wow, he has time tonight! Who knew that having employees would make his life so much more manageable.

Anyway. He doesn’t want to be late to meet—or rather, re-meet—Andrew.

                                                                                                                    ~ * ~

Derek and Stiles are standing outside on the sidewalk when Danny comes running up. He’d gotten wrapped up in his emails, unused to having even five minutes to do something like that instead of being too tired to function when he got off work.

“Andrew is already inside,” Derek says, pulling Danny close so he can run a hand over his back, something Danny used to watch him do with his pack before they were forcibly disbanded. Danny shivers under the touch. No lie, if Derek wasn’t with Stiles, Danny would be climbing him like a tree. As it is, he still has to will away a boner.

Derek smiles like he knows what just happened, and Danny shrugs him off.

Then, they walk into the deli. Derek leads the way, heading for a booth tucked near the back, a tall, suited man already sitting there, phone in one hand, the other resting on his head, fingers tangled in his curls. Danny stutters to a stop. He recognizes this man. He was one of the first people to visit the bakery. He’d made some mention of the name, something like, “Reminds of my best friend,” before winking and buying a dozen cookies.

Yeah, he was definitely cute.

“Andrew,” Derek is saying, “this is Danny. Mahealani. I think you’ve met before.”

Andrew looks up, taking in Danny standing there and nods. “Yeah. He’s an awesome baker.”

“And he’s gay,” Stiles remarks, sliding into the booth across from Andrew. Derek waves Danny to the table, and Danny sinks down next to Stiles. Andrew stands up and lets Derek sit so that he’s across from Stiles.

“Danny,” Andrew says, extending a hand, “Andrew Erickson.”

“Pleasure,” Danny says.

“Yes,” Andrew remarks, eyes sparkling. “It is.”

“Shall we order?” Stiles asks. “I’m starving.”

Danny doesn’t know if he’s hungry for food or for affection, but he knows either way, he’ll get what he needs tonight.

                                                                                                                    ~ * ~

The sort of date goes so well that Danny and Andrew walk back to Danny’s apartment together and then spend most of the night talking.

They don’t have sex, but it’s a near thing. Instead, Andrew spends the night on Danny’s couch and they exchange numbers and kisses.

Then, they both drag themselves to their respective jobs the next morning.

Stiles cracks a joke about the walk of shame, and Derek smacks him.

“Go well?” he says, as if he can’t tell. He’s a werewolf. He’d be able to smell if Danny had done anything.

“Yeah, it went really well. I think we could really work out.”

“Good. I’m glad.” Derek hauls Stiles into the kitchen.

Danny is thankful, but Derek and Stiles must have gotten in early because there in nothing for him to do.

Wow. This is going to give him so much time.

“Hey, you realize that you don’t have to do everything, right?” he calls out as he walks into the kitchen. Derek shoots him a blank look accompanied by a thumbs up. “Seriously, you can leave stuff for me to do.”

“Hey, werewolf here,” Stiles says. “He moves at two speeds: fast and faster.”

“Yeah well, you’re making me feel lazy here.”

“When’s the last time you had time to yourself?” Derek asks. When Danny doesn’t answer, Derek points at him. “Exactly.”

Danny looks to Stiles for help, but Stiles just shakes his head.

“Hey, you hired him,” he says. “Which reminds me: do you want me to do anything other than run register?”

Derek shakes his head, so Danny says, “Uh, no? That’s okay, Stiles. You did awesome yesterday. It’s probably going to be that busy again today.”

“That’s good, right?” Stiles asks. “I mean, it means that people like your business.”

“It also means that I can pay you.”

“And go on dates with Andrew,” Derek adds. “By the way, he really enjoyed last night. I think he’s definitely going to ask you out again.”

“Are you going to be okay with me dating your best friend?”

“Yeah. I mean, you and Andrew deserve to be happy. What kind of friend would I be if I got in the way of that? Maybe you’ll break each other’s hearts, but you won’t know unless you follow your path.”

“He’s gotten really Zen lately,” Stiles says. “Sometimes it’s really helpful.”

“Unless your name is Stiles and you don’t like to listen to your boyfriend.”

“I listened, honey. That’s why we’re in New York City.”

“Okay,” Danny interrupts before Derek can respond. “I’m going to go open now. Stiles, you wanna come with?”

“Yeah, sure. See ya, honey-baby-love-of-my-life.” Stiles throws an exaggerated kiss at Derek, who mimes catching it and tucking it into his pocket. It’s cute. Far cuter than Danny would have given either of them credit for seven years ago.

Maybe one day, he and Andrew can be like that.

It’s a goal. But first. Get through today. He needs to do an update for his app, reinforce some firewalls that keep out the bigots. If Derek and Stiles can handle the bakery, then he can get a head start on it. And meet with Ryleigh about financials.

It’s so nice to have employees.

                                                                                                                    ~ * ~

Andrew calls him two days later, on a Sunday, and asks to see him again.

“Been thinking about you a lot.”

“Me too.”

“Can’t wait. Can we meet now?”

“Uh, sure.”

“Cool, let me in.”

“You’re here already?” Danny looks around his apartment, but it’s neat. He’s clean—showered after a run with Derek this afternoon. He even changed the sheets on his bed.

And he remembered to buy condoms when he was at the store earlier.

“Um, sure. Let me just.” Danny throws on a light jacket and jogs down to the street. Andrew grins at him when he pushes the door open for him. They walk back up to Danny’s apartment in silence.

“So, I know this is kind of out of the blue, but do you want to have sex with me?” Danny asks once they’re inside again. Andrew pauses mid-step, shooting a puzzled look at Danny.

“Sex, on the second date?” he asks.

Danny shrugs. “We’re both adults. As long as it’s consensual, why shouldn’t we?”

“Do you think we’re even compatible?” Andrew asks.

“If you’re asking, you’re already thinking about it. Now, I’m vers. How about you?”

“Vers too. I prefer to top with partners on the first time. Is that okay?”

Danny nods. “I was going to play later,” he admits. “So, I’m ready to go. I’ve got lube and condoms in the bedroom. Will you join me?”

Andrew nods, reaching out for Danny’s hand.

He’s reminded sharply of Derek grabbing Stiles’ kiss. “Are we going to be cutesy and couple-y?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” Andrew says. “I mean, some partners like it, some don’t. I know I like pet names, but I’m not much for showing affection in public.”

Danny understands. As a gay black man, it has to be harder for Andrew to show his feelings or who he is without being attacked. “We won’t hold hands in public if it bothers you,” he says, “but I do like to call partners sweetheart and love. But not out in public.”

Danny isn’t under any illusions that Beacon Hills was an anomaly and that homophobia is still the norm in many places. He doesn’t like endangering either his partners or himself unnecessarily.

They sit on the bed, and Andrew studies Danny with kind eyes. “So, we’ll be cutesy and couple-y but only in private. Is it okay to walk with you, to stand near you?”

“To be caught looking at me, you mean?” Andrew nods. “Yeah, as long as it’s okay for me to do the same to you.”

“Definitely. So, this lube?”

Danny laughs, pushing at his chest. “Get undressed and I’ll give you a show.”

It certainly is a show when he gets down to it, and the sex is fun, messy, and only sort of good because they need to learn each other, but he doesn’t hate it, and he actually likes the way Andrew curls around him after they’ve cleaned up, and they sleep.

Danny wakes up in the middle of the night, sees Andrew still in his bed, and smiles before going back to sleep.

                                                                                                                    ~ * ~

Derek obviously smells when their relationship changes, but he doesn’t make a big deal out of it, and he doesn’t let Stiles do it either.

In fact, they go on a lot of double dates, and Stiles tells horror stories of the first time he bottomed for Derek.

“Never again,” Stiles sing-songs. “Derek doesn’t mind, do you, honey-bunches?”

“I mind you discussing our sex life,” Derek retorts, “sugar-sweet-on-top.”

They jibe each other often and throughout the day. The customers love it. They also seem to love it when Andrew manages to come in for lunch and he and Danny usually hide in the office.

The bakery does so well with the extra help that Danny hires an additional four people and extends the hours. He also starts making more traditional Hawaiian goods, which go over just as well as the haupia.

Then, suddenly, he looks up to find that he’s been dating Andrew for a year and he knows that he absolutely wants to marry this man. Andrew has already moved in, and his suits don’t look out of place in Danny’s closet.

Everything fits.

There’s some small fights. And once Andrew spent the night at Stiles and Derek’s apartment while they cooled off and reconciled.

But, still, 365 days. Danny definitely knows he wants to plan a proposal, plan a wedding, and spend the rest of his life with the beautiful creature that sleeps in his bed.

To celebrate their anniversary, Danny enlists Derek and Stiles’ help.

Derek whips up more than baked goods, and Danny is thoroughly impressed by the spread he prepares. Everything is on the table, literally. Way too much food for just two people.

Derek sees him eyeing the table. “You know how you’re thinking about implementing a donation of unused foods to the homeless shelters nearby? Yeah, this is the test run.”

“That’s wonderful,” Danny says. “Thanks, Derek.”

“Hey, I helped,” Stiles says, jabbing himself in the chest. “I made some of the dishes.”

Derek nods. “He did. They’re good too. Traditional Polish dishes, like pierogi, pączki, żurek, and naleśniki.”

“Andrew’s had them before,” Stiles points out. “I’ve never cooked for you, so I don’t know if you like them.”

“I’m sure I will.” Danny gives them both grateful hugs. “Thanks so much for doing this for me.”

“It’s not a problem,” Derek says, grabbing Stiles and tugging him along as he heads for the door. “Let us know how it goes, yeah?”

He nods and then they’re gone.

Danny swallows hard when he’s all alone. He’s suddenly nervous even though he and Andrew have been together for a year now.

An anniversary dinner is nice, but is it what Andrew wants? Should Danny have purchased a ring? Should he be proposing tonight?

Before he can do much more than worry that he’s not doing this correctly, Andrew steps into the room.

He takes in the table and whistles lowly. “They really know how to cook, eh?” he remarks. “They really support us, don’t they?”

“Yeah,” Danny agrees. He hugs Andrew and then pulls out his chair for him. “I haven’t tried Stiles’ cooking, but Derek says it’s good.”

“It is,” Andrew confirms, “although, I can’t pronounce half of what he makes, so he makes fun of me. We can’t all be secret linguistics, like Derek.”

“I’m going to come right out and say this,” Danny says, “I don’t have a ring. I meant to get one, and then I lost track of time.”

“You’ve been really busy,” Andrew agrees. “So I guess it’s a good thing I did get a ring.” He pushes back from the table and drops to his knee, holding a ring box in front of him. “Daniel Mahealani, I love you. I don’t want to spend another day without you, so will you accept this token of my affection and marry me when the time is right?”

Danny slides out of his chair so that he can kneel with Andrew. He picks up the ring and slides it on his finger. “Andrew Erickson, I do accept your ring and give you my promise to marry you when the time is right.”

They stand and sit back at the table.

“Twelve months,” Andrew says. “One whole year. It’s been a great year. And I can’t wait for the rest of the years too.”

“Yeah. That’s.” Danny blows out a breath. “That’s what I want too. I can’t wait for tonight, tomorrow, next week, the rest of our lives.”

“But right now, we have to do something about this spread. Certainly we can’t eat it all.”

“No, the plan apparently was to donate what we don’t eat down at the shelter.”

“Oh,” Andrew says, his smile slow and steady. Danny’s stomach flips a little, anticipating the celebration already even though they have dinner, donating the leftovers, and heading back to the apartment before they can even entertain the notion of sex. “That sounds wonderful.” He studies Danny with a knowing look. “How about we pack something up for later, drop the rest off at the shelter, and head home?”

Danny has to go around the table to kiss him because there’s too much food to lean over the table. But, hey, that’s good. So much food that won’t go to waste.

“I’ll grab some containers. Why don’t you pick out the things you think I should try from Stiles and then we’ll take care of the rest?”

“Divide and conquer,” Andrew says. “That’s why I love you.”

“That and I swallow,” Danny shoots back over his shoulder with a wink.

Andrew lets out a startled laugh. “Just go before you kill me with your quips.”

“I live to please,” Danny returns. “Just you wait.”

It’s hard to wait the two hours it takes to box everything up and deliver it. But somehow, they both survive right until they get into the apartment and the door is locked. Then they crash together, locked at the lips as they put away the food they kept, trying to undress as they move like some awkward, two-bodied creature.

They fall into bed without any injuries, and then proceed to make love at the slowest pace they have ever done so. It’s nice, but Danny is glad that the second round sometime around midnight is faster and more their pace.

Danny falls asleep afterward, sated and beyond happy. He’s got a wedding to plan with his fiancé.

                                                                                                                    ~ * ~

Stiles and Derek get married around Thanksgiving. Danny and Andrew both attend as best men.

It’s the first time in eight years that Danny has seen anyone from back in Beacon Hills, and he is surprised that it isn’t as awkward as he’d thought it would be. For one, Scott doesn’t come. Stiles makes some bullshit excuse, but Danny can see how hurt he is. And another thing, everyone has grown up and matured. Sure they all have a few more scars than he remembers, but for the most part they seem happy.

After, once the vows are exchanged, the grooms kiss, the toasts are done, the food is eaten, the bouquet lovingly handed to Danny by Derek, and the guests gone with the couple departed to their honeymoon, Danny sits with Andrew on their balcony, watching the moon rise over the rooftops.

“That was a beautiful ceremony,” he says. Andrew nods in agreement. “If you don’t mind, none of those people aside from Derek and Stiles will be at our wedding.”

“Obviously,” Andrew says. “Do you want something similar?”

“Small, intimate?” Andrew nods. “Yeah. That sounds perfect.”

“How about New Year’s? All we need are a few suits, witnesses, rings, and some of your haupia.”

Danny laughs. “I knew you were only marrying me for my prowess in cooking Hawaiian desserts.”

“Oh sure, yeah, that’s what attracted me to you in the first place.”

“Yeah? And what attracts you now?”

“Hmm,” Andrew pretends to think about the question, before sobering quickly. “Everything,” he answers honestly. “I love everything about you. I love the way you are so smart, the way you cook, I love how you treat your friends, and how you’re not afraid to let someone know when they’ve hurt you. I love the way your face lights up when you laugh, and most of all, I love the fact that you’ve let me share your life with you.”

“Aw, babe, you’re going to make me cry.” Danny rests his head on Andrew’s shoulder. “I love you too. I love the way you always know what to say in any situation and how you know to give me space when I’m mad. I love the way you always hang up your clothes. I love the way you hog the covers at night. But most of all, I love that I get to share your life with you.”

They share a few sweet kisses.

“Shit, we should have recorded those,” Andrew says suddenly. “They would have made the perfect vows.”

Danny laughs again, sure his face is a bright beacon in the cold November air. “Yeah. We should have. How about we go write them down instead?”

“That works too.” Andrew stands up, offers a hand to pull Danny up. “God, I love you.”

“I love you too. Now move, I’m freezing.”

                                                                                                                    ~ * ~

New Year’s day dawns bright and cold. The perfect day for a quick wedding.

Danny stands in front of the courthouse, Stiles to his right, fluttering about like a nervous moth. Ryleigh would have been here too, but she’s off visiting some of her others cousins, back in Ireland. She sent her love and congratulations in a confetti- and glitter-filled envelope that Danny had the foresight to open in his kitchen on the linoleum instead of his fully-carpeted living room. He’s still finding bits of glitter even after a deep clean.

“Why are you nervous?” Danny asks. “You weren’t this nervous when you and Derek got married.”

Stiles shrugs. “You realize this is the longest I’ve been apart from my husband since we first got together, minus the time he flew out here to get the job at your bakery. I’m just.” Stiles sighs. “Sometimes I think I’m going to turn around and he’ll be gone. Do you ever feel that way about Andrew?”

“No,” Danny shakes his head, “never. I trust him to come back to me, even when he leaves mad. Do you not trust Derek the same way?”

Stiles nods, but it’s clear he doesn’t.

“Why don’t you talk to your husband about it? I’m sure he’ll explain things better than I can.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Thanks, Danny. You’re a great friend. Andrew is so lucky to be marrying you.”

“And I’m lucky to be marrying him,” Danny says. “Thanks to you and Derek for introducing us.”

“Oh hey, I think I see them.”

Indeed, it is Derek and his fiancé walking toward them. Andrew has the bouquet from Stiles and Derek’s wedding.

“Something old,” he murmurs as he comes astride of Danny.

Danny pokes his tie. “Something blue.”

“All right,” Stiles directs, “let’s get you inside and married before I lose any more feeling in my toes.”

Derek holds the door for them, and Danny swears he hears him hum “The Wedding March” under his breath.

Well, he and Andrew did pick out a playlist for the reception at the bakery after this, and they’ll dance to their song then, but it is nice to have some form of acknowledgment for what this day is.

Well, that is aside from the fact that this building is only open for the purpose of filing marriage certificates today and only for about two hours.

Six other couples have already been here. And now it’s Danny and Andrew’s turn.

“Got the rings?” he asks Stiles as they line up before the justice. Stiles nods, tossing one to Derek while Derek hands Stiles a folded piece of paper.

And then it’s off to the races. Vows exchanged, rings exchanged, kiss exchanged, paper signed, objections null and void, and it’s over.

Danny stands on the steps again, Andrew next to him, matching rings on matching fingers.

Derek and Stiles wave streamers of crepe paper in both his and Andrew’s favorite colors, clapping, and in the case of Stiles, whistling loudly.

As Danny surveys the mostly empty sidewalk in front of him, standing next to the love of his life, two good friends sharing this moment with them, he thinks life can’t get any better than this.

~ The End ~

#Teen Wolf Fanfiction #Danny Mahealani #OMC #OFC #Derek Hale #Stiles Stilinski #My Story/My Writing #Danny-centric