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charcubed · 1 year

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A lot of people refer to Cas as "gay," which I think is awesome and everything. But I personally always considered him more as "queer" for a number of reasons, such as:

angel genders and vessels are very fluid. Would he still be considered "gay" if he were in a female vessel, and in love with Dean? Also, there are several times in the series where Cas appears to be attracted to women (some ppl don't consider these moments valid for Reasons™ which is fine. But I do.) He also seems, in my opinion, to only be romantically interested in Dean, and I think this would be true if Dean were female. So that would make Cas closer to demi.

Point is, I recently saw a post on sm that was like "reminder: Cas is GAY. He's not bi, pan, or unlabeled, he's gay and that's not negotiable."

I consider myself queer and a huge Cas fan, so it was weird to see my interpretation of a character I know really well and relate to just be invalidated like that.

And I just kind of wanted you opinion, cuz I know like in Dean's case, seeing him as anything other than bi is pretty clearly against canon.

But is the same true for Cas? Is it wrong to see him as an umbrella "queer?" I know Misha calls him gay, which I love and respect, but I don't really let my interpretations be dictated by actor opinions. I feel like canon supports a much more fluid interpretation of Cas, but I'm just wondering if I'm wrong for that, in terms of what canon supports.

Anyway, sorry for the long post. Thanks for your thoughts in this fandom I love them

Hi!! Thank you for the nice words and for wanting to know my thoughts on this. I appreciate you :)

Sorry it took me over a week to finish this. I kind of started it, realized it was probably gonna be longer than I’d expected, and then added to it in pieces when off work so as not to half-ass it.

Also, I want you to know that I think you absolutely rock for this message. The fact that you have a strong personal interpretation or strong feelings about what your view of Cas' sexuality means to you, while being open to hearing arguments for what canon supports, is exactly the kind of nuance too many people in fandom lack. Huge fuckin shout out to you, anon, because this takes both guts and brain cells!

I have two primary threads of thought I'm going to address here, as well as how they criss-cross:

I agree that Cas' canon sexuality is a slightly different topic than Dean's canon sexuality. Dean's bisexuality is not unclear/unambiguous, and there's no wiggle room there; he's frequently attracted to women, he's frequently attracted to men, there's bi lighting, it's all not rocket science. Cas is a bit more ~ambiguously queer~, so advocating for fandom maintaining a unanimous hard stance on his canon sexuality is... a little trickier. In that vein, the "reminder" post you mentioned seeing feels too intense in my opinion for the nature of this particular conversation/topic.

That being said: from an analytical standpoint, I do think the strongest argument to be made based on canon is that Cas is gay and demi.

Since you seem open to it and asked for my thoughts overall, I'm gonna break down point 2 before circling back to point 1. Quick reminder/disclaimer that I'm not trying to invalidate you or your personal connection to Cas with anything I'm about to say, so please keep that in mind <3

You mentioned how some people don't consider Cas' moments of being attracted to women as ~being valid~ and said you disagree. That's fair! At the same time... in a nuanced fashion, that's where I land on it. I also think the show took care to ultimately build to and portray a full picture with all of that factored in, and to talk about that I kinda gotta go into detail here, because it's one part of a bigger piece. I’m not trying to turn this into a comprehensive meta deep dive, so I’m going to talk about this in a sort of summarized way but not go too far into breaking down any one point or analyzing any one scene. Hope that’s cool.

Let’s look at Cas’ biggest “moments,” as it were, with women. Or the ones I would guess people intend to reference.

First up: there’s Meg. We’ve got the “pizza man" season 6 kiss, the season 7 arc of Meg watching over Cas during his mental break, and season 8 when Meg sacrifices herself.

The season 6 "pizza man" kiss, to me, really plays into the overall mood of Cas' curiosity as he explores and tries to understand human behavior. He watched porn and was intrigued/confused/aroused, Meg kissed him partially to get at his angel blade (not a euphemism lmao), and then his curiosity kicked in so he kissed her more thoroughly because the opportunity was there. Those scenes are all connected, and he doesn’t have much of a reaction after the kiss. Then, season 7 is a whole suitcase to unpack, but… the bottom line there is that Meg treated Cas with decency when he was vulnerable in every sense of the word. And then in season 8, Cas undeniably had a fondness for Meg by the end, and they were friends... but I don't read it as him having an attraction to her or romantic feelings for her. I do not mean this as shade or hate to anyone who ships them, but my reading on that dynamic overall is that I do think Meg felt something for Cas in terms of both attraction and feelings; and while that makes it all a bittersweet tragedy, it also doesn't mean things were reciprocally non-platonic. She was into him, but he seemingly wasn’t into her in the same way. After Meg’s death, Cas also never asks about her or mentions her or has any reaction at all to her being gone–something that would have been very easy for them to incorporate with even one mention if they'd wanted to or considered it foundational. (For example, mentions of Dean's relationship with Benny are recurring throughout the show, lending its non-platonic nature and its significance for establishing bi Dean even more weight.) Season 8 Megstiel content is also placed narratively right up against the Destiel content, and the contrast of that is–of course–pretty stark. That was likely deliberate. Cas’ feelings for Dean are unavoidably, unmistakably at the forefront.

Then you've got season 9. A newly human Cas–who was given the heteronormative suggestion by Metatron to "Find a wife. Make babies."–gets seduced then killed by April, all of which is traumatizing dubious consent galore. Then you’ve got Cas thinking he's being asked out on a date by a woman in 9x06 as he’s trying to figure out his life as a human. He even says this explicitly to Dean: “Going on dates… that's something humans do, right?” He is doing what he thinks he’s meant to be doing as a human, but is that action based in genuine desire? That line implies the answer being no. Contextually this is, of course, set against the jilted lover vibes he has with Dean in that episode. And then in the season at large, Cas becomes focused on his overall mission–a search for purpose, which (as Metatron helpfully points out later) becomes oriented around saving Dean.

Season 10 is up next. Hannah is very clearly interested in Cas, but Cas is a giant question mark in the face of all of her interest pretty consistently. In all honesty, the way Hannah comes onto Cas—the construction of the scenes—feels like it was intended to show that Cas isn’t interested in women. Half the time he doesn’t clock her vibes, and the other half the time he awkwardly avoids acknowledging it. This culminates in her standing in front of him naked in the clearest signal she can give… and as he says, he’s ~not bothered~ by it. He’s just... well, he's gay. Lmfao. And speaking of the naked Hannah scene in 10x07, something I personally find highly amusing is that that naked scene is immediately followed by Dean enthusiastically making out with a woman. It’s a smash cut with a very pointed contrast, in my opinion! I was very struck by it.

So that's my mini tour (with imperfect recall) of Cas' Moments With Women in the story and how I feel they're positioned.

And to touch upon the idea of contrast a bit further… With Dean, there are ample moments and instances where he canonically expresses (joyful or uncomplicated) sexual attraction to women, and/or romantic love for women throughout the show. This is why his canonical attraction to women should never be in question, as part of his bisexuality. But with Cas... I don’t personally feel we have a scene of his where we can unequivocally say the same. There are always story elements at play that indicate complex motivation, or when a woman (or woman-shaped being? lol) may be interested in him there doesn’t seem to be genuine reciprocal interest on his part. The absence of a clear scene establishing he’s unequivocally attracted to women doesn’t mean he couldn’t hypothetically be… but there are no significant moments that convince me that that’s the case in canon. Instead, I think the picture these layered moments paint of Cas and his sexuality is solidified as the story progress–as part of how his sense of self solidifies and emerges story-wide in kind. By that I mean: the shades of how he reacts to Hannah are there in his reactions to Meg’s interest years prior, but in season 10 they feel more clear because by that point he understands himself better (especially after his time as a human) and has formulated his identity as a person more than he had, for example, in season 6.

The secondary part of this though is the queercoding attached to Cas–which is, by and large, gay coding. (There is also more contrast here in comparison to Dean's bi coding in that regard.) By “gay” coding, I mean… Dean describes Cas as having "sensible shoes,” which is gay slang/code, though more commonly used in reference to lesbians. Cas uses female pop artists for his aliases, which is a wink/nod to stereotypes of gay men—a pattern that’s established in later seasons concurrently to the Destiel narrative taking even deeper root. The specific micro-agressions (and outright aggressions) Cas is subjected to by others—as he's clocked as being an outsider who doesn't fit and for being in love with Dean, in ways that are often tangled together—are traditionally gay story devices at play. And I'm also fond of the seeming significance of Cas' conversation with Pastor Joe in 15x15. Cas asks the Pastor what he means by people of "all backgrounds," being welcomed, and the Pastor says, "Connor didn't have to live in fear of who he was. A gay man who believed in a tolerant God." And Cas says, "Well, I imagine not everyone was happy with the change."

In terms of why I say he’s also demi… Cas is seemingly never ~interested~ in anyone but Dean. Now, part of that is of course a byproduct of the storytelling structures he's given. But nonetheless, his singleminded focus on / interest in / devotion to Dean feels unwavering in its totality. Even as Dean stops looking to date other people in later seasons because he knows he’s fallen in love with Cas, there’s still references to or nods to his attraction to men and women as a significant part of who he is. But unless I’m forgetting things, Cas just… doesn’t really seem to have that embedded into his character. He's got an emotional attachment to (and "profound bond" with) Dean, and his attraction to and love for Dean is part of its natural extension. That’s where the demi reading comes in for me, but it’s certainly a side note / asterisk to him being gay, which I think is the prime part of his identity the text deliberately points towards overall.

Regarding Cas' gender and how that may affect any part of this discussion... Is Cas non-binary? Well, in the show overall, angels are obviously considered ~celestial wavelengths of intent~. We see the fluidity of angels in different gendered vessels, and one could say the angels' primary gender is sort of "genderless" as default. Sure. But... at minimum, I feel it's implied that Cas comes to feel at home in a male vessel's body, and in what has legitimately become his body. As Dean says, "It's not an 'it,' Sam. It's Cas." And ultimately, I feel the gender question is not really a huge part of the point in regards to how canon presents this queer story to us.

To the question of if Cas would still be "gay" if he was in a female vessel and fell in love with Dean–or even to a question of "what if Dean was a woman" I've seen plenty of other people pose in various contexts–I think it's almost like... a moot point. The homoeroticism of Dean and Cas' dynamic is significant in a multilayered way, and that was true from day one. Their dynamic is very much affected by and built on them being 2 masculine men (or Cas being perceived as a "man" if you want to go that route), both in story and out of it, particularly in Dean's reactions to Cas. And the romance, tension, push-and-pull, miscommunication, coding, and censorship–the latter being a thing that shaped story choices over the years–all exist in a specific way because their relationship is undeniably, visibly queer. Destiel as we know it could not and would not be the same if one of them was in a perceived woman's body. Their interactions would have been vastly different, and thus in my head it's impossible to conceptualize.

Supernatural is also very much a story about the deconstruction of toxic masculinity while maintaining masculinity through a queer lens. This is its own separate topic that I actually have been wanting to make a post about for awhile now (in part because over-feminization of their characters in fandom, especially in ways that lead to apply ill-fitting repression narratives to Dean's canon, can miss several points about this). Those masculinity themes are so centralized because of Dean and Cas' romance and the fact that they are two men. There is significance there, both historically and culturally.

So while maybe Cas would or could identify as non-binary... It doesn't seem like a viewpoint he is particularly aligned with, and it also doesn't feel like a significant element at play in this queer love story. That makes me tip towards saying it's not a huge factor in discussions of exact readings or terminology for Cas' canonical sexuality/identity.

As a side note: to a certain extent, I also find it interesting to contemplate how some of their miscommunication in-narrative maybe extends into the idea that Dean is attracted to women and Cas seems not to be. More than once, Dean tries to bond with Cas through ~typical male~ interests, such as when he takes him to a strip club. Dean being bi doesn't mean he avoids having heteronormativity on the brain lol, and that sort of thing in his experience is usually quick-and-easy guy bonding time, especially in hunting culture. But while Cas learns how to be human in a metaphorical sense from the Winchesters' examples in several ways (both the good and the bad habits/lessons), something he can't/doesn't pick up is attraction to women or how to act on or express that sort of attraction, because it just doesn't seem innate to him. So while Dean and Cas are certainly both queer, to me they exhibit different forms of queer experiences (bi and gay) in characteristics and in story and in coding that add a layer to their dynamic. It's a little bit of a difference between them that they maybe don't know how to awkwardly address with each other, because they often don't fucking communicate, and I can see it contributing to Dean wondering if / how much Cas has capacity to "feel that way"... making him think Cas maybe doesn't reciprocate his desire. Because they're both stupid.

Anyway! Anyway.

Back to the main points:

Let me summarize.

I personally don't think Cas is attracted to women, and that the story points to him going through a journey of learning that about himself as he grows into himself over time. The queercoding in connection to him, such as it is, also rings of being gay coding. Considering we see him primarily or solely so strongly interested in Dean, an argument/hypothesis for him being demi doesn't feel off the mark. And I don't think the question of angelic gender is super relevant to what canon points to in this discussion for Cas specifically, because I do think the m/m nature of Destiel is relevant to their story and dynamic with each other, and by later seasons at minimum Cas is seemingly comfortably "a man" (perhaps even more so than an ambiguously gendered Being).

Is there a stronger or more persuasive argument to be made about the specifics of Cas' sexuality in canon? I'd be open to hearing it, of course, but I just kind of doubt any other argument would be convincing enough to change my mind when factoring in all of the story elements at play.

However. All of this being said:

I would certainly not call an umbrella use of the word "queer" wrong for Cas. I think it is, in fact, very applicable! For one thing, the word "queer" in this instance effectively encompasses a combined gay and demi reading, as an example. For another thing, it's an understandable hat tip that simplifies his various complexities as an angel. It works.

I'm also not die-on-this-hill militant about the use of the word "gay" for Cas because I'm cognizant of how things are not 100% clearcut with him. I do not say this to negate my own analysis, but rather because I can acknowledge the truth of this particular situation. While I do think the above full picture kind of adds up to him being specifically gay, this is an instance where there is room for nuance within it and giving grace to–dare I say it–"interpretations." I personally don't really agree with or particularly feel comfortable considering him bi or pan specifically, given all the factors at play; but it doesn't overtly upset me that others do. For example, he did indeed have sex with April as a human, and I find I can't get mad at people who choose to take his interest in that moment 100% at face value, especially considering the fact that what I view to be his overall "gay arc" certainly has subtlety and room for subjectivity in it.

In conclusion,

I don't know if this post answers all your questions, anon. I don't know if it will help you or make you feel bad for some reason, though I certainly hope it's the former rather than the later! And I apologize for the length, but you touched on a lot of different branches in your message, and I'm nothing if not someone who maps out a whole fucking tree when asked to lmfaaaoooo.

Thank you for your patience as this post took me WAY too long to complete smh. Like what the hell, truly. You're a star, I love ya, and for what little it's worth I do infer that lots of people in fandom (perhaps even Misha) use "gay" as an umbrella word in reference to Cas. (I am sympathetic to your plight if that makes you feel weird though; it's not the same situation by any means, but I will share that I'm suspicious of people who call Dean "gay" even flippantly at this point, because nowadays I don't trust that shit lmao)

Send me thoughts and prayers because the "e" key on my laptop's keyboard has started periodically sticking and it's been driving me insane while working on writing this.

#castiel #supernatural #castiel meta #gay cas #?¿?#this is long enough it warrants tags. fuck it #anonymous #asks #char writes things #spn meta #destiel

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cars-cause-why-not · 6 months

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Post Cars 3 timeline (Human AU)

I'm gonna lay out what happens in my AU after the events of Cars 3. Fair warning, it gets pretty angsty and sad later on. (I'm so sorry in advance) Also, this post is really long.

(Note: I haven't planned out much with Cruz since I'm not sure who I ship her with yet so she won't appear much until I figure out what to do with her)

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I'm gonna start somewhat before the third film in 2015. So right before the beginning of the 2015 season, Sally becomes pregnant with her and Lightning's first child. Fast forward, Sally gives birth to their son, Henry, the same night Lightning won his seventh Piston Cup. Henry is the splitting image of his father with a few differences.

Then the events of the third film play similar to the movie (except Doc is still alive in my AU). Lightning takes the 2017 season off to train Cruz and she wins the Piston Cup that year. After the season ends, Lightning and Sally finally get married. Over a year later, they have their second son, Mack, who heavily resembles his mother.

For about the next decade and a half, Lightning still races while being Cruz's crew chief. He still wins races and even wins an additional three Piston Cups. Doc officially retires due to age and health during this period, but is confident in Lightning's ability to be able to race without him. He's happy in retirement and focuses on being a grandfather. And with Cruz's help, Lightning and Jackson become a bit more friendly with each other (not friends, but friendlier).

While doing all this, Lightning's also balancing being a dad as well. About two years after Mack was born, Sally was assigned to a child neglect case involving a 3-year-old girl named Amari. Since she has no one to look after her, Lightning and Sally volunteer to take her in for the time being until the trial is over. However, they soon fall in love with her, and after the case is won, they officially adopt Amari as their daughter.

Two years after Amari is welcomed into the family, Lightning and Sally have their fourth and final child, another daughter named Sarah, who is a mix of both her parents. Their family now consists of 6-year-old Henry, 5-year-old Amari, 3-year-old Mack, and now Sarah. By this time, Lightning is 37 and Sally is 39.

For the next six years, Lightning and Sally manage to balance parenthood with their somewhat demanding jobs. Whenever he was back home in Radiator Springs in between races or the off-season, Lightning always made sure to spend time with his kids and he and Sally are loving, affectionate parents.

It's a pretty good life until Doc finally passes away. Lightning (and everyone else in RS) is devastated as the man who's basically been his father for the past 20+ years is now gone. However, he manages to overcome his grief and wins his ninth Piston Cup the same year.

But this is the point where it's starts to get really angsty.

About four years after Doc's death, and mid-way through the racing season, Sally is diagnosed with aggressive breast cancer. Initially, she responds well to the treatment, but near the end of the season, the treatment stops working and the cancer becomes terminal. Sally insists that Lightning finish the season for her and he does, winning his tenth and final Piston Cup the night of the final race.

A day later, Sally passes away at age 49, leaving Lightning a widower and single father. At this time, Henry is 16, Amari is 15, Mack is 13, and Sarah is 10. He announces his official retirement from racing and being Cruz's crew chief. He returns to Radiator Springs and manages the Cozy Cone Motel and Wheel Well Motel while raising his children. For the rest of his life, Lightning remains unmarried and never dates again.

Fast forward about nine years, Lightning’s older son Henry is now 24 and a racer in the Piston Cup under the number 91 (a combo of his dad’s and Doc’s numbers) with Lightning as his crew chief. Of course, there’s a lot of pressure on the younger McQueen cause he’s the son of Lightning McQueen and (unofficial) grandson of the Fabulous Hudson Hornet.

But like his father and grandfather, Henry is a good racer. Really good. So good that he wins his first Piston Cup his rookie year.

He wins it again the next year and again the year after that (you can probably see where this is going). Fans had a feeling that Henry McQueen would become one of the greats and maybe even surpass his father.

But sadly, Henry suffered a fate similar to his grandfather and namesake's. While trying to go for his fourth Piston Cup, Henry suffered a career-ending crash with his father watching.

But unlike Doc, Henry didn't survive the crash and died at age 27, a few weeks before his 28th birthday.

The racing world is devastated by this (especially older fans who still remember Dale Earnhardt's death). Another bright, shining star of the sport snuffed out too soon.

And Lightning? To say he was devastated is an understatement. After the funeral, he took a page out of Doc's book and left the racing world completely, even cutting ties with Cruz, Cal, Bobby, Brick, Dale Jr, Jackson, or anyone he knew from that world. He locks up his #95 and Henry's still-destroyed primary car that he wrecked in qualifying the day before he died in the garage of his old racing headquarters and doesn't touch them for a while. He becomes more reclusive and a lot grumpier and angrier. He still manages the Cozy Cone Motel & Wheel Well but does not interact with tourists much. He also refuses to go by Lightning anymore, instead just goes by McQueen.

But things don't get easier. In the years before and especially following Henry's death, Lightning also experienced the deaths of everyone who was in Radiator Springs when he first arrived. Mater was the last, dying about a year and a half before Lightning.

Lightning rarely appeared in public before and only made one return to the racing world three years after Henry's death, an event celebrating the 40th anniversary of the famous tiebreaker race and Doc's return to the racing world. There, he met Cruz, Cal, Bobby, Dale Jr, and Brick for the first time in several years. Deciding there was no time like the present, he apologizes to his friends for his behavior and they forgive him. For the last seven years of his life, they were still a part of his life even though he wasn't a part of the racing world.

However, despite all the loss and tragedy in this period, there are still bright spots. A few months after Henry's death, Lightning becomes a grandfather with the birth of his granddaughter Selina. Several more grandchildren follow in the years and he becomes a bit happier. But he's still pretty grumpy for the most part.

Lightning outlives Henry by ten years before finally dying at the age of 69, survived by his three surviving children. He's buried in the Radiator Springs Cemetary next to Sally, Henry, and the rest of his Radiator Springs family.

——————

And there you have it. I’m gonna do a separate post about what happens after Lightning’s death later when I get the details sorted out. Anyway, hope you enjoyed this (and cried your eyes out)

#pixar cars #cars #cars human au #cars headcanons #humanized cars #cars fandom #I’m sorry for putting lightning through this #heavy angst

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starlling-writes · 2 years

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Grimm x Pearl Fanfic WIP

Okay so... because I don't know how long it's going to take me to actually write this full fic, I've decided to post my progress so anyone who wants to can read it as I work, instead of waiting for it to be fully done. (This also will help me to be able to work on writing this while I'm away from home/my computer.)

Because I DO plan on posting this fic properly once it's all done, I'm not going to allow reblogs of this post. I'll keep a running list above the cut of when I make updates to this post, that way it's easy to tell when there is new content. Lastly, I don't think I'll do much, if any, proof-reading/editing of this fic until it's fully done, so there will likely be typos and some changes when the final fic is released. Until then—enjoy!

Updates:

June 10 : part of ch2 added

June 12 : all of ch2 added, first paragraph of ch3

June 15 : more of ch3

June 22 : second half of ch3

June 30 : corrected Grimm's rules at the end of ch3, bit of ch4, & some outline stuff (b/c writing has been tough lately but I wanna share something)

July 26 : bit of ch4, removed outline from last update

July 29 : almost all of ch4 (Word has been acting up lately for me so, to make sure I don't lose anything, I'm updating again now instead of when I fully finish ch4 like I first wanted)

Aug 7 : some missing bits from ch4 & start of ch5. Also, I realized the first chunk of ch4 was a bit wonky from a copy/paste error, so that all should be fixed now.

Sept 8 : missing scene from ch4, and the second half of ch5

~ I do have an idea for the Title, but I don't want to share that yet :P

Synopsis

The Universe has a funny way of working sometimes. Pearl couldn’t see how the Universe kept insisting that, despite being jobless and weeks away from being homeless, things were perfectly fine and she was on the right track. And it didn’t feel helpful when her oracle cards clarified to let Death help guide her. Specifically, a Death-Head. And, in a way that only the Universe would find amusing, it was specifically the Death-Head most known for murder and torture in the North. A small quick prayer led to an accidental run-in, led to a deal that would change everything for Pearl. And for the Death-Head, Grimm, that accepted her request.

— CH 1 —

Pearl felt lost in a freefall.

The Death-Head deal was made, and she knew there was a near-guarantee it would be fulfilled in time for her to keep her apartment. But the unease of what she’ll have to eventually pay Grimm haunted like a shadow. In the day following their first meeting, she thought about canceling it. The only thing stopping her was the bright red number of her bank account. She needed money. She didn’t want to have to admit defeat, to move back home so soon.

She yelled out, jumping up off her bed and striking a determined pose. “This will work out!” she affirmed to herself. She had to push aside all the little things making her worry, and trust.

Trust in a Death-Head.

Alarming on cue, her phone rang. It was him.

“You have an interview tomorrow morning at ten,” he told her with no preamble. “I’ll send you the address. Do you have a suitable wardrobe for office work?”

“I have a couple outfits, maybe,” Pearl admitted. “I’ve had to sell a fair bit of stuff to try to stay above my debts, but I should still have at least one outfit.”

He was silent for a moment. “Hmm, alright. If your interview goes well tomorrow, we’ll need to go shopping for some more.”

We? First lunch with a Death-Head and now shopping together? Pearl’s life certainly took an absurd turn. She withheld a sigh. Then a thought occurred to her. “So what is the job for? Where would I be working?”

“Deah-Head Headquarters.”

Pearl nearly dropped her phone. “Death-Head… Headquarters?” The squeak in her voice betrayed her surprise and unease.

“Is that a problem?”

Now it was Pearl’s turn to be silent for a while. She had no idea what kind of office work Death-Heads required. Would she need to paint her face, too, if she got the job? Pearl touched her cheek. Working so close to Death-Heads… could she stomach it? Should she try to fail the interview on purpose? Sure, she was desperate for a job. But this desperate?

Pearl put her back against the wall and slid down to sit on the floor. She covered her mouth to mute her quickening breaths. Panic was taking over. It wasn’t too late to back out of the deal, but could she really afford it?

“Take a slow, deep breath,” Grimm said gently over the phone. His omniscient recognition of her panic attack sent a jolt through her, disrupting it. She did as he said. “Again.”

When he was just a voice, it was easy to forget what he was. And he had a really nice voice. It took a few minutes, but Pearl calmed down again. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize.” His voice was still so gentle. “You have a lot of questions.”

“Yeah,” she said meekly.

“Hmm. Would you prefer to discuss them over the phone, or in person?”

“You wouldn’t happen to be available for a deal?”

The words escaped Pearl’s lips before she had a chance to second-guess herself. If the cards were urging her towards this path, it was worth the risk. Right?

Grimm looked at her for a hard moment. She didn’t appear to be the type he’d normally take requests from. He’d either be surprised by her, or he’d hand her off to someone else—she sure looked serious enough to make a request. “Hmm, alright. Let’s go have a chat.”

He led the way through the small, shopping strip to a café. He claimed one of the outdoor tables and motioned for Pearl to join him. She sat rigidly, contrasting his casual demeanor. “What do you want?” he asked.

“Oh. Getting right to it.” Now to put her request into words. How specific did she need to be with this? Pearl barely knew anything about Death-Head deals; did they often try to find loopholes in wording, and mess with wordplay for their benefit? She should’ve thought about this more before approaching a Death-Head. “I’m in need of a job. I moved to Lywood not long ago and I haven’t—”

He raised his hand, palm out, gesturing for her to stop. “I meant from the menu. It’s my treat for bumping into you. We can talk work after.”

“Oh.” This… this wasn’t what she was expecting from a Death-Head. If it wasn’t for his makeup, he’d be just another polite man. It muddled her opinions of him.

She took a menu from the centerpiece and gave it a look. A waiter came over shortly after. They set a drink in front of Grimm—he must be a regular here—then asked if Pearl was ready. Deciding quickly, she ordered a macchiato and a chocolate croissant. There had been other tantalizing options, but she kept it small and simple, not wanting to overstep his hospitality.

Once her food was delivered, he started talking. “So, your request is to find you a job, hmm?”

“Basically,” she said solemnly. “I moved here hoping Lywood would be better for me; but so far it’s just been slowly whittling me to nothing. I’ve tried so much, but everything seems against me. Even the guidance from my oracle cards is starting to feel mocking. Hell—it’s because of them that I’m even here talking with you.”

“Hmm?” That got him curious.

She bristled. Did she really just admit that to him? Too late now. She sighed to herself as she fished her cards out of her pocket—it was a little comfort to carry them with her sometimes. She flipped over the top card, revealing Death. “Usually it represents change—a figurative death. Rarely it means a literal one. But right now, it seems to mean you.”

“You trust in your oracle skills that much?”

Her eyes narrowed slightly at him. “Yes,” she said with a bite.

He held up his hands up defensively. “Apologies. I didn’t mean to offend or diminish.” He took a slow drink, stealing the moment to ponder. He glanced between the cards and Pearl. There was something about her, and her situation, that piqued his curiosity. “Do you give readings to others?”

“Not usually? I divine well enough for myself. Most others tend to want more insight than I can usually see. Were you suggesting I become a professional oracle?”

“Hm, no.” He pulled out some money and slid it towards her. “Give me a reading.”

“Huh?” Wasn’t she supposed to be hiring, and paying, him? He… this was not how she thought a Death-Head would be. Was he trying to not scare her out of a deal? Was he trying to make her feel more comfortable so she’d ask for more—so he could ask for more? This felt too odd. “Why?”

He shrugged. “Depending on the cards, I’ll either take your case or recommend someone else.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Setting aside how bizarre this all was, Pearl picked up her cards and started shuffling. “What do you want to ask the cards? You don’t have to say it aloud; just concentrate on it. And don’t half-ass this! The cards will know if you’re insincere in your request.”

He scoffs. “I don’t half-ass anything.”

It was unnerving, the coldness that crept through his words. She closed her eyes and focused on the cards, imploring them to give him the guidance he sought. Pearl did her best to not channel any of her own desires into the shuffle. But this needed to go well. Whether the outcome resulted in her working with this Death-Head or another, she needed this to work out.

The cards called her to stop. She splayed them out in a row on the table. “Pick.”

“How many?”

“However many you feel you need to.”

Grimm looked over the cards carefully. He could count on one hand the times he sought out an oracle’s guidance. Not because he distrusted or disbelieved their abilities. Just the opposite. The foresight of oracles was a powerful force—one he dared not abuse or take for granted. He pulled a sing card. The Sun.

“Well that’s a good sign,” Pearl reflexively said. She reached over and traced her fingers along the card’s imagery, taking a moment to decipher the correlation between its meanings and Grimm’s question. “The Sun is a very favorable card. Even when inverted, it still often signifies success and happiness and such—though it’s direct for you, so there’s no muted energies, delays, or back steps.”

“Back steps?”

She paused. How to explain in simple terms? “Anyone in divination will tell you that most of it is intuition based and not a firm standard of meanings. Well, one way that inverted interpretations were taught to me is that sometimes it means you have to step back to the previous card in deck and learn something from it before progressing—for The Sun, that would mean The Moon.”

“I see.”

“But again, The Sun is direct for you, so you don’t need to worry about any of that,” she brushed off. She cleared her throat and refocused on the reading. “As it stands, the situation regarding your question looks prosperous and beneficial. It’s a good sign to continue forward. Though don’t take that as a free-ride; you still need to keep up your end in order to reap the benefits.” He hummed to himself as he mulled over her words. As the silence lengthened, making her grow more uneasy by his lack of reaction, she added, “You can pull some more cards for clarity, if you’d like.”

He waved his hand dismissively, his rings catching the light. “No need. I’ll take your request, so let’s talk in more detail.”

Two emotions clashed within Pearl. On one hand, she was glad to be moving forward with her situation, relieved to know that she will soon have an income. But on the other hand… was the good tidings she just foretold to him in regards to this deal? Did The Sun, facing inverted from her perspective, actually mean the setting of her good fortune rising onto him?

She wouldn’t realize it unless she looked back on this moment months from now, but the cards were indeed giving guidance to them both; if only Pearl hadn’t clung to the negative—and highly absurd—interpretation, and instead reflected on her own words.

— CH 2 —

Pearl felt lost in a freefall.

She yelled out, jumping up off her bed and striking a determined pose. “This will work out!” she affirmed to herself. She had to push aside all the little things making her worry, and trust.

Trust in a Death-Head.

Alarming on cue, her phone rang. It was him.

“You have an interview tomorrow morning at ten,” he told her with no preamble. “I’ll send you the address. Do you have a suitable wardrobe for office work?”

“I have a couple outfits, maybe,” Pearl admitted. “I’ve had to sell a fair bit of stuff to try to stay above my debts, but I should still have at least one outfit.”

He was silent for a moment. “Hmm, alright. If your interview goes well tomorrow, we’ll need to go shopping for some more.”

“Deah-Head Headquarters.”

Pearl nearly dropped her phone. “Death-Head… Headquarters?” The squeak in her voice betrayed her surprise and unease.

“Is that a problem?”

“Take a slow, deep breath,” Grimm said gently over the phone. His omniscient recognition of her panic attack sent a jolt through her, disrupting it. She did as he said. “Again.”

When he was just a voice, it was easy to forget what he was. And he had a really nice voice. It took a few minutes, but Pearl calmed down again. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize.” His voice was still so gentle. “You have a lot of questions.”

“Yeah,” she said meekly.

“Would you prefer to discuss them over the phone, or in person?”

Pearl felt lost in a freefall.

She yelled out, jumping up off her bed and striking a determined pose. “This will work out!” she affirmed to herself. She had to push aside all the little things making her worry, and trust.

Trust in a Death-Head.

Alarming on cue, her phone rang. It was him.

“You have an interview tomorrow morning at ten,” he told her with no preamble. “I’ll send you the address. Do you have a suitable wardrobe for office work?”

“I have a couple outfits, maybe,” Pearl admitted. “I’ve had to sell a fair bit of stuff to try to stay above my debts, but I should still have at least one outfit.”

He was silent for a moment. “Hmm, alright. If your interview goes well tomorrow, we’ll need to go shopping for some more.”

“Deah-Head Headquarters.”

Pearl nearly dropped her phone. “Death-Head… Headquarters?” The squeak in her voice betrayed her surprise and unease.

“Is that a problem?”

“Hmm. Would you prefer to discuss them over the phone, or in person?”

“Phone…”

Pearl asked her questions. Grimm patiently answered every one, elaborating when necessary. But soon they weren’t even talking about work. Without realizing it, they slipped into casual conversation, random comments strung into the next

“Take a slow, deep breath,” Grimm said gently over the phone. His omniscient recognition of her panic attack sent a jolt through her, disrupting it. She did as he said. “Again.”

When he was just a voice, it was easy to forget what he was. And he had a really nice voice. It took a few minutes, but Pearl calmed down again. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize.” His voice was still so gentle. “You have a lot of questions.”

“Yeah,” she said meekly.

“Hmm. Would you prefer to discuss them over the phone, or in person?”

“…Phone.”

One by one, Pearl asked her questions. Grimm patiently answered each of them, elaborating as needed, without judgment. Soon the conversation led away from work. One random comment naturally strung into another. The silences ebbed and flowed just as comfortably as the chatter. He even got a laugh out of her.

By the end, Pearl felt comfortable proceeding with the interview.

That’s not to say she didn’t get nervous about it still. She arrived ten minutes early. There were a few others waiting around when she got there. Like Grimm had said, no one here wore the Death-Head mask. It was like any other office building.

There were two parts to the interview: the typical questionnaire portion—though not-so-typical, since the later questions geared towards Death-Head related things—and then a practical test. While Pearl didn’t have direct experience working in an office before, her natural computer and typing skills, and her ability to pick up their specific programs, were of great benefit. Overall, she felt it went well. Though one of the interviewer’s questions lingered like a bad taste in her mouth.

“I’m sorry, I just have to ask. This interview was set up as part of a deal. Why bother with still going through the interview when you could simply get the position?”

“I don’t want to get a job that way,” Pearl said shaking her head. Grimm had questioned that stipulation too, though he didn’t come off as judgmental about it. “I made the deal to ensure I could interview for a job. I still want to rightfully earn it.” She didn’t add that if she didn’t earn a job within her deadline, then she would, begrudgingly, accept one fully handed to her.

As this was a Death-Head deal, Pearl had the perk of having her interview results be expedited. Not that this was a one-and-done kind of thing. Death-Heads were particular about all their employees. And passing the first step didn’t guarantee Pearl a job yet. Still, she made it through the interview. And her background check was nearly done. Next was the temporary work position.

If she made it through that, then the deal would be complete.

— 3 —

Pearl was excited for her first day of work. It felt good to be doing something, to be making money again. For now, she would be training and working in the North branch’s offices. On one hand, the commute was nicer. On the other, Pearl had a lot more interaction with Death-Heads than she expected. She was marginally more comfortable around them thanks to her time with Grimm. Her deal was working out.

But rumors of a deal made with the leader of the North faction soon became a thorn.

Pearl didn’t tell anyone about her deal. So, it was quite surprising to hear office gossip about her and Grimm. Granted, no one knew it was her. There was just talk about how strange it was that Grimm accepted a non-violent deal. She wanted to ask. Wanted to know the extent of what they meant. She knew that Death-Heads often did dirty work, and someone who was a faction leader definitely didn’t have clean hands, but with how everyone was talking about it, their deal was completely out of character for him.

She couldn’t stop thinking about it…

As the days went on and the gossip developed, Pearl kept to herself. She even started taking her lunch breaks across the street in the park. A number of her coworkers noticed the shift in her personality from when she started, though said nothing to her about it.

Grimm also noticed her acting differently.

Since his office overlooked the park, he couldn’t help but notice her visits there. That alone couldn’t be called odd. But he, too, started to hear the gossip. Add the reclusive comments from her performance report, and the pieces started coming together.

Pearl learned of Grimm’s reputation. He knew it was only a matter of time until she did. Still, it left him with a feeling he didn’t enjoy. He decided to check in with her.

Grabbing his own lunch, he made his way over to the park. When he found Pearl, she was sitting alone on a bench, zoned out and pushing her food around its container absently. “Mind if I join you?”

Pearl jumped and looked up at him, eyes wide and cat-ears pointed back. He didn’t mean to startle her. She recovered quickly, shook her head, then scooted over. “Go right ahead.”

He sat down and took his time to open up his bento. Pearl eyed the three-layered box, each layer packed with delicious looking food. Her lunch was measly in comparison. “How are you doing?”

Her shoulders slumped as she looked back down at her sad, barely-touched lunch. “I’m fine,” she said, clearly avoiding giving him the real answer.

His brows knitted the tiniest fraction. He wanted to ask, but ultimately stopped himself from pressing the matter. They weren’t that close. She seemed adamant to not look at him, so he started eating. Minutes passed in silence. Aside from his concern, the moment was quite nice. Grimm ate lunch alone more often than not; and it was a nice change to eat outside.

“Why did you accept my deal?” Pearl suddenly asked with a hallow note in her voice.

The feeling from earlier crept up again, leaving a bad taste in his mouth. Maybe this was a bad fit for her after all. He did something he had never done before and reminded her, “You can still back out of the deal, if you want.”

“What?” she snapped. She turned and glared at him. “Okay first off—that is not what I said at all. Second—why would you think I’d do that to you? I basically have this job already; just because you said you wouldn’t consider the deal done until I’m no longer a temp, doesn’t mean I’d jump at the chance to get out of upholding my end of it.” She sighed heavily, looked down at her lunch again, stabbed at it quite aggressively.

Grimm stared at her. Her snap of fury surprised him—he also now had a feint understanding of the cliché of how cute someone could be when angered.

“Why did you accept my deal?” How to answer her question… Was it because of the novelty of being asked for a simple, non-violent deal? Did her being a fellow half-faced cat sway him to give her a break? Or perhaps it was all the little things—her expressiveness; her determination; how nice her voice was to listen to; the possibility she stirred with her oracle reading; the ease he felt with her—that made him want to help her.

“Hmm, I accepted your deal because… I just wanted to. Don’t know how to explain it.”

Pearl looked at him, examining him as much as his words. His explanation eased her anger. But not her worries. She sighed again, leaning her head back to stare at the sky. “Guess I should start get ready for a hefty price, huh?”

He hadn’t given any thought yet to what he’d ask of her. This wasn’t his usual deal. None of his usual type of demands seemed right. “Payment must be proportional to the deal. Don’t worry yourself so hard over it.”

Pearl stopped herself from thinking of ways a hefty payment could still be proportionately demanded. She wanted to believe that this deal with him wasn’t a mistake to make. She took a deep breath in through her nose, then slowly let it out her barely parted lips. “Okay… Okay. I trust you.”

Days passed and Pearl’s temp position was at its end. Having worked well, she was offered to stay on full-time. “Would you like to do the honors? Since you also have to ask for your payment,” Pearl’s supervisor asked Grimm.

“Hm, yeah I’ll tell her.”

“Do you know what you’re gonna ask for as payment yet?” Grimm gave her a lethal glare, making her flinch and quickly ramble, “Sorry for overstepping. I was just curious. Considering the situa… Sorry.”

Grimm knew what payment he’d ask for. But he didn’t want it to be gossiped around—especially before he could officially declare it to Pearl. He folded Pearl’s acceptance letter and tucked it inside his haori. It’d be another hour before she arrived for work. He’d give her the letter then; if she wanted to hear his payment then too, he’d tell her. Otherwise, he was fine waiting until they had lunch, or when her shift ended—yet another unheard-of thing for him to do; yet again for her.

It's a shame he wouldn’t connect these facts and their meaning until much later. For now, he only recognized the oddness of his actions, not giving them much thought.

Ten minutes after Pearl arrived, he went down to see her. Grimm’s visit was keenly noted by the entire department. And the moment he asked Pearl to talk in private, whispers chomped at the bit for them to leave. Despite everyone knowing Pearl was at the end of her temporary position and it was most likely that Grimm wanted to talk to her about staying on, the gossip of his newest, usual deal was rekindled by the fact that it was uncommon for him to handle such a task.

“It’s time, huh?” Pearl said. “The end of the deal.”

“Yes.” He gave her the letter, then gave her a moment to process it, to ready herself for what he was about to ask of her. “For payment, you owe me nineteen kisses.”

“What?” she immediately interjected. She would have never guessed he’d ask for something like that.

He raised his brow impatiently at her before continuing. “There are rules to this payment. First, only one kiss per day will count towards the payment. Second, kisses must be on the lips.. Third, someone else must be around for the kiss to count. Fourth, you have nineteen weeks to fulfill your payment; if you fail, you’re to quit this job immediately without severance. Lastly, until your payment is complete, you will be my avec to any and all occasions I request.”

She needed another moment to process this. Why was the death and decapitation guy asking this for his payment? Was it some sort of humiliation tactic because there was nothing worse he could reasonably ask for? Ultimately… Pearl decided that it was okay. It was just a handful of kisses. And she was comfortable being around him. Though, maybe less so now that she’d be constantly thinking about having to kiss him. Nineteen kisses. What an odd number to ask for. “Why nineteen?”

“For The Sun card.”

Pearl’s eye twitched. Really? That was his reason? She screamed internally at the way her oracle reading was unfolding.

But it was okay.

She had a job now. And the payment to the Death-Head was generous, all things considered. Things were working out, just like her cards had told her.

“Okay,” she agreed and stepped towards him confidently. “Nineteen kisses. And all those rules. Though tell me.” She glanced to the upper corner of the room. “Does the security guard watching on the camera count for the third rule?”

He wasn’t expecting that. He laughed, smirking cockily at her. “Hmm, know what. Sure. Just this time, it’ll count.”

She quickly raised up on her toes and kissed him. She just as quickly turned away to hide the blush spreading across her face. She cleared her throat. “Is there anything else you need from me?”

“No. You’re free to go.”

Pearl left the break room. Instead of returning to her desk, she snuck into the bathroom. She splashed water on her face a couple times, focusing on relaxing her racing emotions and heartbeat.

Nineteen kisses. Eighteen more to go.

— 4 —

Things continued on for Pearl as they had been the past few weeks. Except now she had an income. She was slowing paying off her debts. And she was also having a lot more, awkward encounters with Grimm at work. It could’ve just been her biased perspective, but he seemed to linger around her more. Did he think she’d kiss him at work in front of everyone? She’d rather avoid that, if possible. Stealing a few kisses while they had lunch across the street at the park was enough of a risk for her.

Sixteen.

It was on another one of these days where she contemplated kissing him, that Grimm called in the last rule of their deal. “Next Friday there’s a small event I have to go to. Semi-formal. I’ll pick you up at 6:00pm.”

Pearl’s thoughts slammed to a halt. She wasn’t expecting this part of the deal to come up so soon. The most formal event she had ever been to was a school dance ages ago. Her thoughts darted in countless directions. “Is… is this a Death Head event?”

“Yes.”

So, she’d have to deal with other Death Heads too… At least it was just semi-formal. Though she still didn’t have anything suitable. She wondered if she could get Grimm to buy her a new dress for the event, just like how he bought her some new outfits for work. Did she dare ask?

“If you have any more questions, just message me,” he said, getting up to leave. Any words Pearl had caught in her throat as she watched him go.

With this event now on her plate, the coming days grew stressful. But Pearl was determined to not let it get to her. She focused on what she could control. Namely, her outfit. She spent her free time thinking about the kind of dress she wanted to wear. The color, the cut and material. She had it all figured out so that when her next day off rolled around, she was ready for a day of shopping. She then planned her makeup and hairstyle for the evening—ultimately keeping everything simple.

She was as prepared as she could be. Grimm was punctual Friday evening. He pressed the buzzer, ringing her apartment. “Be right down,” she said over the intercom. When she came out the front door, they both just… stared at each other, taken aback by the little changes each made.

“Yes.”

“If you have any more questions, just message me,” he said, getting up to leave. Any words Pearl had caught in her throat as she watched him go.

She was as prepared as she could be.

Grimm was punctual Friday evening. He pressed the buzzer, ringing her apartment. “Be right down,” she said over the intercom. When she came out the front door, they both just… stared at each other, taken aback by the little changes each made.

Overall, Grimm’s outfit was the same as it always was: a black haori over a white dress shirt, and plain black slacks. However, the subtle difference of the black-on-black jacquard haori he wore tonight gave him a refined touch. It also helped that he buttoned up his shirt more. But the haori was part of his signature.

And Pearl—she was a breath of spring. Her dress was a comfortable, rayon wrap dress with a ruffle along the hem, and short, flowy butterfly sleeves. The color matched her eyes perfectly. And her golden eyeshadow and rose gold lipstick were the perfect accents.

The soft rumble of distant thunder broke the moment.

Pearl looked to the sky. No clouds were gathering immediately, and she hoped it stayed that way. She’d hate to have to bring a coat—she only had one heavy winter coat, some work blazers, and a few casual jackets and sweaters of varying weight, making none of them ideal for the evening. “I hope the storm misses us,” she said, more so to herself than trying to make conversation. Brushing off her concerns, she turned back towards Grimm. “Shall we go?”

The event was hosted at a fancy hotel, not far from Death Head HQ. Grimm pulled to the front, handed his keys to the valet, then went to help Pearl out of the car. Not that she needed it. She was already walking around the front of the car. Grimm gave her a look. She shrugged. “What?”

“Can I at least escort you inside?” he sassed, raising his arm up in offering.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “You’re seriously upset over not opening my door?”

“I’m not upset.”

“Oh yeah? Your furrowed brow says otherwise.” She smiled coltishly. “Maybe I should escort you inside.” She held up her arm, mirroring him.

His kneejerk reaction was to refuse. She was his avec; he was her senior, both within the company and in age. No one dared joke with him so casually—except for Algoth, though his jokes were more often gibes. Grimm decided to lean into it. “Alright then,” he agreed, and hooked his hand up under her arm. “Lead the way.”

Pearl was not prepared for this. “What? No. I don’t know where to go. I don’t want this responsibility anymore!”

He leaned in close with a dangerous smirk. “Perhaps if you make a little payment, I’ll change my mind.”

Pearl’s face quickly turned red. Did she dare kiss him here in plain view of so many of their coworkers? His face was already so close. It would be quick. Maybe no one was looking at them, so she wouldn’t need to deal with prying questions and gossip later.

“Good evening, Sir,” someone interrupted.

Grimm righted himself and turned towards the other Death Head. “You’re here early.”

“You’re just late.” His gaze slid over to Pearl. “Since you brought an avec this time.”

“Pearl, this is my assistant, Algoth,” Grimm introduced. “But ignore what he said; we’re not late.”

“Tell that to Kahamet.”

“Hmm. I wonder what’s got him so impatient tonight.” He sighed. “Guess I better deal with him sooner rather than later.”

They all went inside together. There were far more guests than Pearl expected. She knew not everyone there worked within the Death-Head Organization. But most did. She took a steadying breath and reminded herself that, as wild as it was, she was one of them now too.

Grimm noticed her nerves. “You okay?” he quietly asked.

“Yeah. Yeah I’m good.”

And for a moment she was.

The stares started to linger as the three of them went through the ballroom. She stopped looking for familiar faces. After grabbing glasses of wine, Grimm told Algoth to keep Pearl company while he went to talk with Kahamet.

“So, you’re Pearl Helmi,” Algoth said slowly.

A little part inside Pearl started screaming. He knew her full name? Well—he was Grimm’s assistant. It wouldn’t be too surprising if he knew about their deal. But his gaze was unforgiving, almost threatening. She didn’t like it. He was even more intimidating than Grimm was when she first met him.

After a drawn-out moment, he made a soft hmph sound. Algoth reached into his jacket, then offered her his business card. “If Grimm acts out of line, let me know.”

Pearl stared at him, absolutely dumbfounded. Was he indirectly threatening Grimm? Did he know something Grimm had planned that she didn’t? She accepted the card. “Thanks?” she said meekly.

“I’m curious though… You’re not his usual type.”

She definitely misinterpreted his words. “W-what?”

“Have you really not heard about his usual deals yet?”

“Oh, our deal,” she said, realizing a little too late how revealing those words were.

A sly grin grew across his face. He wasn’t quite sure yet what was going on with them, but this little slip got him closer. “Yes. Usually, he only makes deals involving torture or murder; requesting payment equally painful, like all one’s teeth.” Pearl shivered. She had heard of this, to a degree, but no specifications about the payments he asked for. “When the paperwork for your deal first came across my desk, I thought it might be some sort of test—to see how attentive I am filing all out papers—or perhaps a joke he was playing.

“But here you are,” he punctuated by tipping his drink towards her. Then he took a sip.

His gaze had yet to waver from Pearl, and oh boy, did she feel it boring into her. Algoth was definitely worse than Grimm. She could enjoy a meal and laugh with Grimm. Algoth, on the other hand… at first he seemed to want to maybe help her—albeit in an intimidating manner. But then how the conversation changed… what was his goal with all that?

Whatever it was, she did not have the energy to parse it tonight.

“Heh, yeah. Maybe he made a bet with someone and had to take next job request he got and ended up with me?” she joked lightly, her heart not in it. She took a sip of her drink and scanned the perimeter of the room. “Do you know where the bathroom is? An eyelash is starting to attack my eye.” It was a lie. Pearl just wanted to escape the intense interaction. If Algoth realized this, he didn’t call her on it.

“Where’s Pearl?” Grimm immediately asked upon returning to the gala nearly twenty minutes later.

Algoth shrugged. “Probably hiding out in the bathroom.”

Grimm’s face twitched into a brief snarl. “And why would that be?” he slowly growled.

“Just made sure she knew the full you,” Algoth answered nonchalantly, staring dully at him. “What is you aim with her? I know what you’re making her pay you.” Grimm’s hand went up, but stopped short from grabbing him by the lapels of his coat. Algoth looked down at Grimm’s hand as it gradually balled into a fist and lowered back to his side. He snickered. "Go comfort your princess," he said. His gaze slid away from Grimm and then took a drink.

Grimm clapped him on the shoulder, took a step closer, and whispered a threat into his ear. "Give me all the shit you want. But not her."

Algoth's smirk grew smugger as his boss walked off. "Wonder how long it'll take him to realize," he said to himself.

It was easy finding Pearl out in the hallway. She was sitting on a bench, casually chatting with another HQ officer worker.

"So this is where you've been hiding," Grimm butted in.

"Oh, hey Grimm. Not exactly hiding. But yeah, taking a break from… all that," she said and gestured in the direction of the ballroom.

"What did Algoth say to you?"

The coworker Pearl was talking to—who had been stiffly silent since Grimm approached—quickly excused themself and gave the two their privacy. Grimm took the vacated seat beside Pearl.

She sighed and dug the business card out of her purse and held it out towards him. "He told me to contact him if you misbehaved. Then he proceeded to remind me of how unusual our deal is. Also—why did you ask for all of someone's teeth?"

"They're good for my bonsai."

Pearl's eye twitched. He… he actually used the teeth for something? "Ah yes, how could I not realize something so simple. Bonsai dentures."

He laughed. All the tension he was holding instantly vanished as her sarcastic joke caught him completely off guard. It was a nice change from the very… professional, meeting he just had with the CEO. And from Algoth being cheeky tonight. He gave her a thoughtful look—staring long enough to make Pearl start feeling antsy.

“Should we get back to the event?” she asked.

“Hmm, as you wish.”

They didn’t make it back inside the ballroom.

They were steps away from the door when someone loudly called out, “Oh look. There’s the cheater who bought her way into the Death Heads.”

Pearl froze. There was no doubt that they meant her. She looked at the floor, afraid to meet anyone’s gaze as attention shifted to them. If it had only been that one comment, perhaps her anxiety wouldn’t have gotten the better of her. Unfortunately, they continued ranting.

“Do you know how many times I had to apply before I got an interview for an office job? And you just waltz right past all that!”

Grimm moved himself between Pearl and the other office worker as they walked over. Judging by the stumbling stagger in their walk and the prominent smell of alcohol, they were drunk. Regardless of intoxication, this was unbecoming of a Death Head.

Others began butting in to deescalate the situation. Pearl would appreciate their help later. For now, she focused on not having an anxiety attack. One little thing after another. Cynically, she started to wonder if the Universe was determined to not let her enjoy this night. “I need air,” she said. She didn’t wait for anyone’s acknowledgement before heading outside.

Grimm watched her leave, then sharply turned back to the instigator. He grabbed them by the collar and pulled them in close. “I suggest you go sober up and never be in my presence again."

That comment earned Grimm some looks as he left, following after Pearl. She was pacing with her arms hugged tightly to her chest, her eyes closed, deliberately breathing in through her nose and out her mouth. She heard him approached and stopped.

“How are you?” he asked.

She flashed a shaky smile. “Just fending off some imposter syndrome. No big deal,” she brushed off.

“It is. Things have changed rapidly for you. Even without some drunk asshole making jealous snarks, it’s understandable to second guess yourself.” He walked closer to her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “But you did earn this job on your own. You made that part of the deal, remember? All I did was ensure your resume was seriously considered for job you’re completely qualified for.”

She laughed a little and lowered her head, hiding her smile. How many people got pep talks from such a notorious Death Head? She let his words sink in. Affirmed that he was right. She took one deep breath to clear out all the negativity, then look at Grimm with a genuine smile. “Thanks.”

He nodded, returning his hands to his sides. He glanced over his shoulder at the hotel. “Wanna leave the event?”

“Can we really just leave? I don’t think we’ve even been here for an hour yet.”

Grimm shrugged. “If they get mad at me, then they get mad.”

“Ooo, such a rebel,” she teased.

“I’m not a Faction Leader for nothing, you know.”

A pause lingered between them. “So… Do you just want to call it a night and go home? Or do you want to like, wander around the city?” Pearl asked.

“I’m fine with whatever you wish.”

Well he certainly said that in a way that stirred a little flutter in Pearl. However, she wrote it off as the champagne they had—because why would he be flirty with her?

They decided to go for a walk. Neither knew the area, so they pick random corners to turn at, no true destination in mind. They found a little coffee house having an open mic night. A lush, community garden. But most importantly, a food truck where you could make-your-own fried cheese sticks.

Grimm immediately pulled Pearl over to it the moment he saw it. He had found this food truck a small handful of times before throughout Lywood. They had a fair selection of cheeses that they’d bread and freshly fry. Grimm ordered three dozen of various different cheeses. At first, Pearl was a bit skeptical they’d eat so many. But all it took was one bite and she immediately claimed half of the cheese sticks for herself. Whatever spices were mixed in the breading was perfect; and the breading was the perfect crunchy match for the gooey cheese. She hoped the next time she went out drinking she’d have the fortune of finding this food truck again.

They found a playground nearby and sat on the swings as they ate in peaceful silence. The night had had its ups and down, but in the end, it was turning out well.

And then it started to rain.

At first, it was just a light sprinkle. They sought shelter under a nearby tree. But the rain did not let up. Only increased. They couldn’t stay there much longer. Unfortunately, they had walked pretty far from the hotel; and unless Grimm accepted the future roasting he’d get from calling Algoth by asking him to bring his car to them, they’d have to make a run for it and get soaked.

It was just rain. No big deal.

But Pearl was in a light-weight dress, and was already growing chilled as the rain cooled the once pleasant night. Grimm shrugged off his haori and gave it to her. She was immediately grateful for its warmth. Pulling it closely around herself, they started heading back.

Unfortunately, they hadn’t been keeping the best track of their path. But they laughed about it. Grimm cranked the heat once they finally got to his car. He needed it more than her—Pearl was doing her best not to stare at his completely soaked white, dress shirt. When they arrived at Pearl’s apartment, she lingered in the car, reluctant for the evening to end. Even if they just continued sitting in the car, listening to the rain—that’d be nice. And so she leaned over and kissed him.

Fifteen.

“That doesn’t count, you know?” he said.

Fifteen. Sixteen?

“What? How does that not count?” she defended.

“It’s not daytime.”

“You never specified that rule.”

“The first rule was once per day.”

Were they really going to get into an argument over semantics? Yes. Yes, they were. “Yeah, but you didn’t make it clear that you meant during the daytime. Most people would assume that meant once per calendar day.”

He raised a brow, in both a challenge and in amusement. “Very well,” he smirked. “I’ll count it. This time. But don’t think you can get away with such mischief next time. I’m clarifying now to mean daytime—between sunrise to sunset.”

She blew a raspberry and rolled her eyes. “Oh sure. Change the rules partway through.”

His eyes narrowed at her. “Clarifying, not changing.”

“Hm, yeah no, sure,” she teasingly brushed off. Two months ago, she would not have dreamt of being this playful with a Death-Head, especially not one like Grimm. But she knew him now. Somewhat. She could see the softer sides of him that barely a handful of people got to see.

“Fine then. Day, night—kiss me whenever you’d like.” The small smirk that played on Grimm’s lips made her anxious—but not the negative type of anxious; the eager kind. The kind that made her want to lean forward and kiss him again for no other reason than wanting to.

Fifteen.

Before such emotions could betray her, Pearl hopped out of the car with a quick goodnight called over her shoulder. She suddenly had a lot to think through. Once in her apartment, she leaned again the door, pressing her eyes closed. Her heart was racing. And not just from running up to her apartment. Was she… was she falling for Grimm? No—surely this was just the illusion of infatuation caused by them becoming closer, as friends, mixed with the necessity of having to kiss him.

Right?

She slowly slid down until she was sitting on the floor. Looks like there was still quite a bit to sort out in her life. Not to mention, she just realized she was still wearing his haori.

— 5 —

GRIMM: I can’t come in today. I’m sick

ALGOTH: How did you get sick?

GRIMM: Rain

ALGOTH: You were out in the rain long enough to get so soaked that it made you sick?

Algoth gave his phone an accusatory glare as the minutes added up since Grimm read his last message. He doubted Grimm was sick enough to be unable to respond so soon after initially texting him. Grimm was hiding something. Or, more accurately, not disclosing something so that he wouldn’t be roasted over it.

That meant it likely had something to do with Pearl.

This new relationship his boss had formed with his latest client was… odd. He was curious to see where it would lead. At a glance, they were an unlikely duo. He knew Grimm. He knew him better than almost anyone else. Hopefully, Pearl would keep her wits about her as the two toed the blurry line they established between them.

His peaceful morning’s work was interrupted by a knock at the door. He was surprised to see Pearl. But not surprised by her question.

“Good morning, Algoth.” Her eyes quickly scanned the office. “Is Grimm around?”

“No. He’s not in today. Was there something you needed from him?”

“Oh, no. Not really, I just…” She bit her lip and adjusted her arms behind her back. Her overt nerves got him curious. That was when he noticed the bit of black cloth she was now hiding behind her back. He also caught the sheen of a familiar pattern on the silky fabric.

The puzzle instantly came together.

“He’s home sick today,” he said, cutting off her floundering for an explanation. He returned to his desk and started writing something on a scrap piece of paper. “Since I have to cover both my and his work for the day—you can go deliver his medicine for me.”

“Wha–?”

“The medicine is already paid for; you just need to pick it up from the pharmacy. Here are the addresses—the order is under my name—and codes to get into Grimm’s place.” He handed her the paper. His mischievous expression made Pearl’s ears flatten back a bit. This felt like a damned if she did, damned if she didn’t sort of situations.

“O-okay,” she accepted.

After watching her leave, he shook his head, sat back down at his desk, and shot a text to Grimm.

ALGOTH: Your wife will be stopping by later.

He never got a response—Grimm wouldn’t get around to reading it until late that night—but it amused him all the same.

Pearl stood outside Grimm’s house, staring up at it in awe. She wasn’t surprised that he had such a nice place. Still, the large, finely maintained house loomed as intimidating as the man who lived in it.

Well, best to get this done with—mainly because her shopping bags felt heavier the longer she stood there. Besides the medicine, she bought ingredients for soup. She felt responsible; he had to have gotten sick from being in the rain for so long without a coat. She wouldn’t be surprised if Algoth made the same connection and that’s why he sent her on this task.

“Hello?” she called after unlocking the front door. “Grimm? It’s Pearl. Algoth sent me.” No response came. Tentatively, she went in search of the kitchen. The interior design was impressive. Immaculate. To be able to afford all this… She stopped herself from contemplating the deals he’d done for all of this. “Kitchen,” she quietly reminded herself, getting back on task.

It was immediately to the left of where she stopped to gawk.

After unpacking all the groceries onto the counter, Pearl paused. Did she start cooking first, or find Grimm first? Probably find Grimm. She’d feel more comfortable being there once he knew she was there. He could also help tell her where everything was in the kitchen. She went back into the main room and through the only other doorway. There were a lot of closed doors—which was to be expected, given how large the hose was. “Grimm?” she called again, hoping for a hint about which door he was behind.

But apparently, he was behind her. “What are you doing here?” he groggily asked.

Pearl jumped, letting out a little scream. “Where the hell did you come from?” He lazily motioned over to the kotatsu in the room. On the side opposite the foyer, a was a pillow. He’d been there the entire time; she just hadn’t seen him. “Oh… Well, Algoth sent me to bring you medicine.”

He yawned and scratched the back of his head. “Ugh. Please tell me he didn’t get something grape flavored. He always picks out the worst flavored medicine.”

“I think it’s cherry.”

Grimm gave her a curious look. “So. Where is it?”

“Oh, still in the kitchen. You should take it with food, so I was going to make you some soup.”

If Grimm hadn’t been so sleepy still, perhaps Pearl would’ve been able to notice the intrigue that sparked in his expression. “You’re making me soup?”

“Well yeah,” she said and shrugged. “You caught a cold because of me; it’s the least I can do to make up for it.”

“You didn’t give me a cold.”

“Maybe not directly. But since I wore your haori yesterday, you got soaked in the rain and caught a cold.”

“Yes. My decision caused this outcome.”

She pouted a bit at him, narrowing her eyes slightly. “You must really be sick, you’re starting to sound delirious,” she sassed, turned away, and walked back into the kitchen before he could respond.

He chuckled to himself then followed her.

When she told him she was making soup, he didn’t process that to mean ‘from scratch’. So seeing all the groceries she had set out surprised him. He stared dumbfounded at her.

She stared awkwardly back. “Sooo… Where is all your cookware? I’d like to start cooking, and while I could just open every cabinet and drawer until I find the things I need, it’d be easier for you to just tell me.”

“Hm? Ah, right.” He shook himself from his stupor, and started helping her.

But then he started to help her too much. “Go curl up under the kotatsu again,” Pearl gently ordered as she started to guide him over to the door. “I’ll bring you some soup when it’s done.”

“You sure you don’t want help?”

“I just watched you nearly cut off your own finger. Twice. So go rest and stop trying to add your blood to my soup.”

He obeyed.

Pearl turned on music on her phone and continued cooking. She was enjoying working in Grimm’s large kitchen with all its high-end appliances. Much better than her apartment’s kitchenette. About half an hour later, the soup was ready. She portioned out a serving, buttered a few slices of bread.

Pearl gently shook Grimm awake. “Food is ready.”

He stretched, then slowly sat up. As the smell of the soup hit him, he snapped fully awake. “This smells absolutely delicious.”

She blushed a little in pride. “Thank you. I hope you enjoy. Do you want me to put all the leftovers away now? Or I can leave out a second serving if you’d like.”

“You’re not eating?”

“Oh. Well… no,” she said awkwardly. “Algoth didn’t really say I had the whole day off, so I was gonna go back to work now.”

“Stay.”

Pearl froze. The soft way he said it plucked the heartstrings that had shaken her the night before. Granted, it came out that way absolutely because he was low energy from illness. Still…

Then he added, “You’ve come all this way, and did all this work—relax and eat with me.” When she bit her lip, still hesitating, he continued. “As the Head of the North Faction I can and will order you to take the day off work.”

Something about him pulling rank while he was such a miserable, sickly slump made her want to laugh. And so she conceded. She got herself a bowl of soup and joined him under the kotatsu—damn it was cozy; no wonder he kept passing out.

When they’re done eating, Pearl cleaned up. Grimm made some protest, saying he should be doing all the chores since she was his guest; but she argued back that he’s sick and threatened him to rest.

As she got ready to leave, she noticed his haori she left in the entryway. She traced along the fabric. Picking it up, she returned to the other room and set it beside the once again sleeping Grimm.

She lingered.

There was such a softness to him. And she was probably one of the few who saw this side of him. Unconsciously, her hand moved to brush his hair. But she stopped short, noticing just in time what she was doing.

“Fuck,” she whispered under her breath. She immediately stood up and left the house.

There was no way to deny it anymore.

She had feelings for Grimm.

#fanfic wip #DHD #grimm x pearl

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consistentlyexhausted · 1 year

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Moving and Moving on.

Well, things have changed a little since I wrote my thoughts down. It is, of course, nearly three and it may be closer to five when I finally finish this post.

In the last few weeks, things have gone from

I wonder when

Lord have mercy, I wish it would slow down.

Now, I'm not saying this is an entirely bad thing but to have many monumental life changes happening within the lovely month of April and spilling into May is causing my brain to struggle to catch up.

I can, of course, list all of these and hopefully writing them down and seeing them for what they are, it might help me process it all a little bit better.

I am moving further up North. About two hours away from where I am now. I am moving with my beloved doggo, Tatty, who will get her own blog post someday so I can gush about how much I love her and my Dad, whom I am close to and who has been there for me during some of the hardest moments.

My Brother and his other half are moving to Canada. My mind is slowly making peace with the idea that they are actually going and with the date of the move pushed back by a few days, I can now go and see him off at the airport.

My mother, whose conduct in the last few days, has not been great, is moving also and I will not be living with her. I am, as yet, undecided on if I should go no-contact for a little while as, in many talks with my therapist and my doctor, it seems as if she might be the root and stem of a lot of my issues. Who would have thought it, hey?

I am no longer in therapy. The scheme I was under is over and while I can go back, I have been discharged and am officially 'in recovery'. I have to keep reminding myself that I am in a much better place than I was, that I have things i have learned to keep me safe and ways of helping.

It's a little list, I know but it's all happening at once. Depression, Moving, Relationship Issues, and Departures all at once feel like a burden and though I am trying to remove myself physically, emotionally, and mentally from any trigger points, it doesn't help all the time.

I feel myself slipping back a peg or two at times and the intrusive and often violent thoughts I have come back during the most menial tasks.

I don't want to be like I was before and I worry for my future at times when moving to a place I know no one in. I worry that the constancy of loneliness will make my situation worse.

So I will go full Tolkien and embark on a quest of my own.

Self-Appreciation and Looking for the good in the small worlds I will create around me. I have got to find joy, even in the simple and most mundane things I can find, and just run with it. Simple, little things like Snails, Houseplants, Writing, Walking, and just the peace of getting better.

I like them all. In fact, I have a lot of photos of snails and they seem to be my spirit animal. I like to imagine a strange little fellowship between me and the Gastropods who carry their homes upon their backs. While I am not even slightly strong enough to carry my home on my back, I do like to slip back into it when I get frightened and love to come out after rain or during. Though you could kill me with a quantity of salt, I will not melt.

I think they're pretty cool, you know and though my previous line of work was mainly inside, I did find a lot of snails, a butterfly or two, a few dead mice, and a fair number of wasps (Bane of my existence). During that time, I also saved a lot of bees. I got over my fear of being stung because I know that unless angered or ill, a bee will not attack.

Bees and Snails.

I just can't have normal favourite animals.

Well, I think I should try and get some sleep. I have to get up early today and get shi done.

Toodles,

A snail-loving sleepy one.

#Blog #Snails #Bees #Moving on #Moving #Nightime Blog #mental health blog

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jakesimfromstatefarm · 3 years

Text

how to fake date your best friend | jake sim

✰ summary: the rules were simple -

pretend to be the boyfriend of you, his best friend who wants the attention of their crush, for a week and a week only

no kissing (bc gross cooties amirite) allowed, unless needed in times of desperate measure

and no matter what, absolutely, most definitely, do not fall in love.

simple, right?

well apparently not. because news flash––jake's already broken one of the rules.

and to give you a hint, it's neither rule 1 or 2.

✰ pairing: jake sim x y/n [ft. members of enha!]

✰ genre: fluff, comedy | fakingdating!au, highschool!au, bestfriend!au, friends to lovers

✰ warnings: cursing, high-schoolers doing dumb highschool things, underage drinking (pls don’t actually do any of this irl), jake being a certified simp, it’s LONG (i’m so sorry), cheesy kithes bc im a sucker for kithes ( ˘ ³˘)♥

✰ wc: a whopping 9.5k

✰ a/n: it’s finally finished :’)))))) it ended up being much longer than i wanted but i had so much fun writing the characters that i got carried away lolol anywaysss i hope you guys enjoy it,,,i got a little unmotivated during the process bc i didn’t know if it was good or not but here it is heh (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡

Tuesday, December 8th

Jake Sim lives a simple life.

He likes to think he leads the normal, stereotypical life of a teenage boy. Has decent grades, plays soccer after school, skateboards around the neighborhood, has a best friend who he’s desperately in love with, and has a stable group of friends.

Okay, maybe not so simple, because this boy would physically launch himself to the moon and drill at its surface to collect moon dust for you if you asked him to––despite his deadly fear of combusting in outer space.

But that fear doesn’t even compare to his worst one yet: not having you in his life.

And so, he decided to just repress any and all feelings he’s had for you ever since he discovered them in middle school, when he realized he hated seeing you go to the eighth grade dance with a date––that wasn’t him.

He decided that he wasn’t going to risk losing a life-long friendship over some dumb, teenage boy feelings.

They were probably powered by his testosterone anyways. Yeah, that’s totally it.

He’s totally not in love with you.

So yes, he lives a pretty normal life. Every day is the same as the last, and tomorrow will be the same as today. But he likes it like that––he doesn’t want anything to change.

Especially not now, when he finds himself content with every aspect of his life (okay maybe except for his history grade, god, does he hate history).

So, it catches him off guard when you arrive at the group’s usual lunch table, located outside in your school’s courtyard, looking as excited as ever.

Jake’s the only one at the table so far. The remaining usually showed up late––Heeseung spends his first half of lunch tutoring freshmen for community service hours (but the poor boy has no idea what he’s doing), Sunghoon is probably stuck in line in the cafeteria again (he always forgets to pack his own lunch), and Jay is...well actually, no one ever knows where Jay comes from. He’s a special one.

It catches Jake even more off guard when you skip over any greeting a normal person would give, and start speaking at one hundred words per second.

And that catches us up to the present.

“Y-You want me to what?” Jake’s stuttering as you stare at him with your hopeful eyes from across the lunch table.

Despite the expression planted on your face, which screams your excitement for your “brilliant, amazing, genius, Einstein-could-never” idea (or whatever other words you used to describe it––Jake can’t exactly recall the specific terms you used, they all came out of your mouth too fast), you don’t respond to his question of bafflement. You continue to stare at him, awaiting his response. Jake could compare the look on your face right now to a puppy looking up at its owner, eagerly waiting for a treat. You know, tongue out and all.

He swallows the lump that’s lodged in this throat (is that the sandwich he’s having, or his nerves?) and continues to give you his look of confusion laced with a nervous smile because surely, you’re joking.

You grab what’s left of your sandwich from his hands and take your own bite. Somewhere in between you arriving at the table and now, Jake’s managed to steal the sandwich you brought today. You did make the best chicken sandwiches, in his defense.

“Well? It’s only for the week! And I promise you, after one week, if nothing happens––if he doesn’t make a move or anything––I’ll move on from him like you’ve been telling me to.” Your words are muffled from you savoring your sandwich, or what’s left of it anyways. (Mental note to self: don’t share your lunch with Jake ever again.)

When Jake still doesn’t respond (you’ve truly gotten this poor boy paralyzed), you find it as a sign to continue.

“I think it’s the perfect plan. Plus, if it doesn’t work out, it’ll be like the universe is telling me to finally move on, right?”

Wrong.

Jake has been encouraging you to move on from your crush because well, if we’re being honest here, he selfishly wants you to himself. Even if it wasn’t romantically.

Preferably, he would kill to get to be the one who holds your hand in the hall, call you cheesy pet names, post disgustingly cute couple pics for the ‘gram––but for the sake of potentially ruining his relationship with you, he’ll just have to settle with the role of being your best friend.

(And he’s totally fine with that! Totally. Yup.)

But he didn’t think that you moving on would only be a mere possible outcome (that may not even happen!) from whatever this stunt is you wanna pull.

Said stunt: Pretend to date one another and hope it catches the eye of a certain someone you have your eye on: Park Sunghoon.

Ah yes, Park Sunghoon. The previously mentioned one who’s probably still in line waiting to get his lunch as we speak.

Park Sunghoon, the tall, kind, intelligent, charming young boy that everyone knows. And if anyone didn’t know him, they most definitely knew of him. He wasn’t hard to miss in the halls; everything about him just radiates perfection.

If you plucked a random high-schooler from the halls of this school and interviewed them on the Park Sunghoon, they’d say you’d be lucky enough if the quiet boy so much as sparked a conversation with you, even if it was about what last night’s chemistry homework was.

Well if that were true, then you and the rest of the boys would be considered lottery winners.

How that happened, how the four of you dysfunctional beings earned his friendship, the world may never know. However, Jake is fully convinced that this was the universe’s way of playing a cruel joke on him.

For as long as Jake could remember, it’s always been just the two of you. You and Jake. Jake and you. (With the exception of Heeseung and Jay, of course, who came along in middle school)

In fact, your earliest memory of Jake was when he peed his pants in the kindergarten during nap time. You would know, you had the privilege of sharing a sleeping mat with him that one fateful day and in result...let’s just say the smell didn’t wear off from your clothes until a week later. Five-year-old you didn’t forgive five-year-old Jake for the longest time.

And since then, you’ve been attached by the hip. And Jake liked it like that. Jake didn’t need anyone else in his life (with the exception of Leila) if he had you. He had found his home within you, and he didn’t plan on sharing his space anytime soon.

Nevertheless, the universe had a completely different idea for the two of you.

Sunghoon came into the picture last year, towards the end of the school year. Despite being the new kid, he found his way into your cherished friend group and naturally, the five of you grew as close as friends could be.

That was the problem. Jake wanted to hate Sunghoon, to despise him for being the one that you had heart eyes for, but he couldn’t.

Not only was Sunghoon one of Jake’s closest friends, but he didn’t want to ruin the dynamic of the friend group. After you, the three chaotic boys were the next most important people in Jake’s life.

And so, we have the typical love triangle plot that every coming-of-age movie follows. Of course, this is all unbeknownst to you––you may be intelligent and a people-person, but oh boy can you not see the heart eyes your very own best friend has for you.

“It’ll be easier than you think, really! Look, we can even set boundaries or rules or whatever,” you propose, as if you’re trying to get him to sign a contract.

Rules to a fake relationship? We’re not living in a Netflix romcom, are we?

“Okay rule number 1: it’ll only be for a week and a week only, rule number 2: we don’t have to do anything too couple-ly like...” you pause to wonder for a second.

“Like PDA or anything! You know, unless we really need to convince him,” you casually add. When he responds with radio silence and stares at you with absolute concern painted all over his face, you cough. “Jake, I’m joking.”

Right. Of course. Obviously.

“And of course, just try not to fall in love with me, it’ll be hard, I know,” you send a playful wink his way.

Too late. Turns out it’s not that hard. Jake would know.

Jake continues to stare at you in hesitation. Yeah, you’ve had your fair share of crazy ideas (that Jake always find himself agreeing to––the poor boy just can’t seem to say no to you), but fake dating you?

Jake is sure he wouldn’t be able to pull it off without slowly destroying himself. He’d just have to say no, he’s sure you can find someone else to do it for you.

Yes, that’s it, just say no.

Jake has to keep some of his pride in tact.

Jake does not say no.

He doesn’t know what went wrong. His mind said one thing, but his words said another.

To be fair, Jake’s actions have always been influenced by his heart, not his brain, anyways. And when it comes to you, you bet it’ll be coming from his heart.

So here he was now, under the stare of three equally shocked and confused guys across from you and him at the lunch table, your fingers intertwined with his.

Just a few seconds ago, you had spotted the rest of the lunch bunch approaching the table, and you quickly grabbed Jake’s hand and scooted in closer to him.

Now here you were, explaining to your friends of your sudden relationship.

Jake is too zoned out to even physically pick up your explanation. Something along the lines of "we’ve been dating for a while but didn’t want to tell you guys yet." From the feeling of your hand clutched tightly into his and your body right up next to him, his mind was short-circuiting.

How is he supposed to last an entire week of this if he couldn't handle innocent hand holding? Hand holding? God, what are we, back in the fifth grade?

Two minutes into this scheme and Jake's mind has already downgraded itself to a fifth grader's.

Jake mentally scolds himself for giving in, this was not a good idea.

It takes Jake approximately 12 hours to conclude that this stunt of yours may, actually, be a good idea. He knows this because approximately 12 hours after the events surrounding lunch, he receives a text from you:

y/n [12:03AM]: thanks again for doing this for me jake

y/n [12:03AM]: ur actually the best

y/n [12:04AM]: ew ok that was cheesy but really i owe u a big one <333

Following your thread of texts is a really close up photo of you widely smiling into the camera. A smile so big, Jake’s convinced your face was probably in pain after taking that picture.

Anyone else might’ve thought the photo looked borderline insane but because Jake’s Jake, aka a simpᵗᵐ for you, he comes to the conclusion that it’s singlehandedly the cutest thing he’s ever seen in the entire world.

After quickly saving the selfie into his phone, Jake tells himself that maybe this won’t be a bad thing after all. I mean, anything that makes you smile like that meant it has to be a good idea, right?

Spoken like a true simp.

Plus, dating you––fake dating you––is pretty much the same as it was before. He already spends most of his days with you to begin with. Now, it’s just with added displays of affection. For show, obviously. Obviously.

And look, if Jake will never get to actually be with you, then he’ll take what he can get. And if that meant fake dating you, well, he reasons that it’s better than nothing at all.

Wednesday, December 9th

Jake’s playing with the rings on your right hand and you’re in the middle of dramatically telling the lunch table about the infuriating Karen you had to deal with at work the other day when Jay comes up with a grin you all know a little too well.

“Okay that grin means one of two things: you finally grew the balls to ask out that poor girl you’ve been teasing all year or you have something planned that we won’t like,” you interrupt your story when you catch Jay’s sly expression, evoking a chuckle from Jake, who’s now found a new distraction with the bracelets perches on your wrist.

“Excuse you, I’ll have you know that I did ask her out. It just so happens that she’s currently ‘in between boyfriends’ whatever that means. Ouch, by the way,” Jay feigns hurt from your comment by clutching the area above his heart through his shirt. Ever the drama queen. “But yes, I do have something planned. And no, it’s not a bad idea.”

Jay squeezes his way in between Sunghoon and Heeseung from across you and begins to pull out his own lunch. Everyone’s eyes follow him as he settles in because as bad as his unknown idea may be, you’re all still curious on what this boy has to say.

“Well are you going to elaborate or...” Heeseung speaks up for everyone after you all mentally debate one another through darting eyes on who’s going to have to bite Jay’s silent bait.

Jay then forcefully sets both hands on his table, which elicits a little jump from you as you go for a bite of your sandwich. Adorable, Jake tells himself.

“My parents are out of town this weekend. We all know what that means...”

Yes. We do know what that means. The four of you have seen this scenario play out many times, a little too many times for your own good.

This meant one of Jay’s infamous house parties that he always throws whenever his parents go out of town. And because his parents are hot-shot CEOs of an important company whose name you don’t remember (it’s nothing personal, your brain can only handle so much information and this physics exam you were studying for took up 90% of your brain capacity at the moment), they’re out of town often.

And along with Jay’s parties comes chaos. Lots of it. And that’s because...well, it’s safe to say that despite the many school-wide presentations the police officers of your school have held in the auditorium on why you shouldn’t drink underage, Jay’s parents’ liquor cabinet always seems to find itself missing many a few bottles after each party. But we don’t talk about that. Shush.

Almost simultaneously, everyone at the table lets out a groan, much to Jay’s disappointment.

“C’mon guys! It’s been a while since anything’s fun happened to this school, think of all the sad students in that building right now,” he extends a finger whole-ass arm and points at your school, “who are in dire need of fun and a little...” he punctuates his sentence with the hand motion of chugging down a drink, followed with a gulping sound elicited from his tongue clicking.

You roll your eyes along with everyone else. Don’t be like Jay, kids. Listen to those police officers.

“Jay, it’s midterm season! I have an exam on Monday and I definitely do not want to spend the nights before wasted,” you give him an apologetic look. As crazy as Jay is, you do feel bad nonetheless. The boy just wants to have fun.

Your response is followed up with similar comments from around the table.

“I’m helping y/n study”

“I have an important skating performance on Sunday”

“Uh...my hamster died?” (ok Heeseung panicked, don’t blame the guy)

Ignoring that last excuse of an excuse, Jay continues his debate nonetheless. “Just come for the sake of it! No one’s saying you have to get wasted. Pleaseeee for me?”

Jay throws these parties so often, you’re not sure why he’s so set on making sure you’re all going to be there. Well, I guess who wouldn’t want their closest friends to be at their own party?

That and, Jay needs to make sure his friends are there to stop him from doing anything stupid. We all know this boy has had enough embarrassing moments to last him a lifetime.

Everyone at the table gives each other the same hesitant look. Heeseung is the first to give in, “Oh fuck it. Sure, count me in.”

Jay’s fist pumping the air before turning to Sunghoon with the most hopeful eyes.

Sunghoon simply sighs in return. “Alright okay, I’ll bite. But if you vomit on my shoes again, I’m out the door.” Jay’s finger is automatically drawing a cross over his heart as a promise to not ruin Sunghoon’s Nikes again.

He then looks to you with puppy eyes.

You, who's already staring back at Jay with a stoic look in your eyes, are stubborn and (unlike the previous weaklings) are not as easy to convince. And somehow, this began an unannounced staring contest between the two of you, a contest to see who would budge first. This isn't an uncommon occurrence between you and Jay, but the rest of the boys are still on the edges of their seats watching this duel.

Jake casually wraps an arm around your shoulder and you’re brought in close, but still undeterred from your death-stare match with the boy across from you.

If it’s not obvious enough, Jake’s really gotten into his role of being your boyfriend, despite it only being 24 hours since he last froze at your touch. Character development, you’ll give him that.

You almost forget he’s faking it for a quick second. And for an even quicker second, you imagine he wasn’t faking it. And you swear you feel butterflies in your stomach at that thought.

Weird.

You mentally shake the thought out of your head. Priorities first, aka, beating Jay in this staring contest.

“Fuck,” you stutter when you finally blink, admitting defeat to a grinning Jay. “Okay, okay, I’ll THINK about it. I’ll let you know.”

Not exactly the answer Jay was looking for, but he’ll take it. Better than a no.

He turns to Jake next, knowing there’s no way Jake will turn down a party. Just like Jay, the boy loves himself a good party.

But–

But because Jake would take your physics exam this Monday for you if you asked, because Jake would bungee jump in the Grand Canyon without a safety net below him if you asked, because Jake would fake date you to make your crush jealous for you if you asked, he doesn’t hesitate in his answer this time around: “Same as y/n, I’ll let you know.”

Jay looks at Jake. Then back at you, who he’s still clinging onto like a koala to a tree. Then back at Jake. “You two are gross. Admittedly cute. But gross.”

You look up at the boy next to you to see him already grinning at you.

For the first time today, you find yourself agreeing with Jay.

Admittedly cute.

Thursday, December 10th

You are having a bad day.

You’re having the mother of bad days.

Not only is it midterm season, but you still have all your regular weekly assignments to finish before Friday hits. So as a natural-born procrastinator does, you stayed up all last night trying to get a good amount of work done because what’s better than cramming all your work the night before it’s due? Doing it two nights before it’s due.

Well apparently it wasn’t such a good idea. Because now, here you were, frantically throwing on whatever articles of clothing you find nearest to you because you slept through all your alarms.

You’re lucky enough to make it through your school’s doors right as the second bell rings, even if you did look like you just walked straight out of a zombie apocalypse.

You’re not so lucky when you find out your first class of the day, calculus, had a pop quiz. A pop quiz on the only unit you just happened to know absolutely nothing about.

To top things off, you forgot to pack your lunch during this morning’s frenzy, meaning you’re automatically stuck sharing with Jake.

And because his mother started making him pack his own food out of a lesson of responsibility (she said something along the lines of: “Jake, you’re about to be in college and you don’t know how to pack a decent meal”), he only has a plain PB&J sandwich and a pack of Scooby-Doo gummies in his bag today (because newsflash, he still doesn’t know how to pack a decent meal).

Not that you could care less at the moment, you were too preoccupied with catching up on your assignments to even eat. And if any of the boys noticed your zombie-like state during lunch, they did a good job of not mentioning it. They knew better than to bother an irritated y/n.

Somehow, you make it through the entire school day and your after-school meeting for environmental club (save the trees!) in one piece. As you finally walk out of the school building, you exhale, automatically feeling lighter. At least the hard part of your day was done.

Now you just had to wait for Jake to finish soccer practice, which usually ended around the same time as your club, and he can drive you home, where you can continue being irritated with your day in the privacy of your own space.

You wait on the steps of the school’s entrance, waiting for a smiley Jake to come around the corner as he usually does at 5:30pm every Thursdays.

Yes, a smiling Jake is exactly what you needed to make your day ten times better, you conclude.

As if on cue, you hear a ding from your phone.

Jake [5:30PM]: ugh coach is extending practice for “team bonding”

Jake [5:30PM]: idek what team bonding is

Jake [5:31PM]: you ok if i cant drive you today? ://

It’s as if the universe decided to use you as its punching bag today.

You physically let out a distorted groan, not caring if anyone who happened to hear you thought you were a creature from out of this world, as you send him a text back.

y/n [5:32PM]: it’s all good lol have fun with tEaM bOnDiNg

Things were not all good. But no matter how upset you may be, you weren’t going to project your negative vibes onto Jake’s naturally positive ones. So you get up from the stone steps and begin your dreaded walk back home.

It’s freezing out. You should’ve known better to just throw on a hoodie and call it a day when it’s the middle of December. But then again, you figured by now you’d be in the comfort and warmth of Jake’s car and presence...not walking home in these freezing temperatures.

You think about Jake and how he’s probably currently suffering from not only his team bonding exercises (but really though, what are team bonding exercises?), but doing them in this weather as well. The poor boy.

You’re quickly broken out of your thoughts by the sound of a car engine from behind you. When you don’t see it pass by you and instead hear it pull over and park next to the curb of the sidewalk you’re currently on, you automatically deduce that this is it, this is my time, I’m about to get kidnapped by whoever it is behind me but y/n, you should probably turn around and check first before you drive yourself insane in this inner dialogue.

You turn around and squint into the front window of the car. If it were a kidnapper, this is exactly what your mother told you not to do. Her exact words were: “Run, don’t look back, and scream bloody murder.”

Good thing it wasn’t. Just an innocent Sunghoon waving his hand at you, motioning you to get in.

“Sunghoon?” You approach his car and stop at the passenger side’s open window.

“y/n! It’s freezing out, I’ll drive you home c’mon,” he nods his head towards the passenger side door.

Well, how could you say no? Sunghoon owns a nice car. Like a nice car. Like car-seat-heaters-that-make-you-feel-like-you’re-physically-melting nice. Beats getting hypothermia outside, right?

“Why are you going home from school so late?” You ask as you settle into his car, instantly melting at the touch of the aforementioned heated seats.

“Debate club, actually. Decided I needed another personality trait other than ice skating,” he starts the engine and begins driving towards the direction of your neighborhood.

You laugh at his comment, you didn’t peg him as a debate kind of student. Quiet Sunghoon? Debate club? If 2 plus 2 is four...

“Hey, I don’t call you the Ice Prince for nothing! Also, don’t forget your other personality trait: forgetting your lunch every day.”

Sunghoon quickly glances over at you to send you a dirty look (because eyes on the road, kids!), which you return with a cheeky grin. “Need I remind you that was you today?”

“Touché,” you click your tongue.

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, the faint sound of Sunghoon's music in the background filling in the quietness.

You’re humming along until Sunghoon breaks the silence, “Did Jake get stuck at practice again?”

You don’t know why, but you swear you feel your heart beat faster at the mention of Jake’s name. No, that was always there right? Because you were with Sunghoon...your crush..obviously. Obviously.

Ignoring the feeling, you turn your attention towards the boy driving you.

“Oh yeah, something about team bonding. How’d you know?”

“Eh, I just figured since he wasn’t driving you home like he always does.” He turns into your neighborhood.

You nod at his answer.

“You two make a good couple.”

You whip your head at him. Did you hear him correctly?

“It was about time, really. You two have been ogling at one another for so long, Heeseung, Jay, and I almost placed bets on who would be the first to make a move.”

He keeps his eyes on the road, casually going on about how you and Jake make the cutest couple he’s ever seen.

You're frozen, unsure of what to think, let alone say.

You think to two days ago, when you started this entire fake relationship because of the very boy driving you home right now. The same boy who's complimenting you on your fake relationship. The same boy who's supposed to be jealous over that said relationship. The same boy you’re supposed to be crushing over.

But now...only a mere 48 hours later, you were finding yourself okay with the fact that he was happy for you. And for the life of you, you couldn’t remember why you liked Sunghoon in the first place. Not saying he isn’t one to be crushed on, I mean, look at the guy.

Maybe, just maybe, it had something to do with the fact that you didn't feel nervous or giddy or..anything at all when you got into the car with Sunghoon. At least, not until Jake's name was mentioned. That's when you felt the butterflies. At the mention of Jake.

Jake.

Weird.

But before you can come to a conclusion on why you're feeling the way you do, Sunghoon interrupts your thoughts.

"Well, we're here! Say hi to your parents for me," he pulls into your driveway as you're still collecting your thoughts.

You give him a quick thanks and one last wave as you enter the front doors of your house.

Seeing that your only solution towards confusing feelings meant distracting yourself, distract yourself you did.

Even if it meant distracting yourself with your piling assignments.

The next time you look up from your work, it's suddenly way past sundown and a heavy storm has taken over. You’re surprised it hasn’t started flooding yet with the amount of rainfall you were hearing.

You check the time on your phone, the bright 8:16PM on the screen illuminating your dimly lit room. Seeing that neither of your parents have yet to be home from work, it looks like you were going to have to settle with some instant ramen for dinner tonight.

As you trudge down the stairs of your home, the sound of light knocking against the front door catches your attention. It's been a long day y/n, you're probably hearing things, it's definitely just the rain.

Nope. There it is again, but much louder. Much more urgent.

You contemplate any and all potential disasters that could happen from answering the door. Only a crazy person would be willing to go out in this hurricane-like weather to be frantically knocking on your door.

And so, you assume it has to be some psychopath trying to get into your house. Yes, there’s definitely no other logical explanation.

You scramble around your living room, looking for the next best weapon to defend you. Resorting to the flower vase your mother keeps on the table next to the front door, you hold it out in front of you, as if you're waiting for the door to burst open.

The knocking continues, gradually getting louder. You mentally curse at yourself for dropping out of the taekwondo class your dad signed you up for when you were younger.

Vase in hand, you swing open the door and brace for–

"Jake? What the fuck? Get in here, you're gonna get sick!"

You’re suddenly aware of how stupid you look, holding a light pink vase with a couple of orchids as your only form of self-defense...for it to only be your own best friend. You immediately put it back on the table as Jake quickly rushes past you and into your humble abode.

You close the door behind you and turn to face the soaked boy.

“I come bearing gifts, also known as take-out and hot chocolate from that one cafe you love. Also my company, if you’ll take it. I had a feeling you weren’t having the best day today,” he’s simply standing there, holding up a large brown paper bag in one hand, and a deliciously smelling cup of hot chocolate in the other, but you’re looking at him as if he bought you the Moon.

You stare in awe at the angel of a boy in front of you, silently thanking the stars for gifting you this amazing human being as your best friend. You don’t know what you did to deserve him.

You give him a soft smile. “Jake, you didn’t have to. It’s practically a shitstorm out there,” you cock your head towards the window, showcasing the downpour of cats and dogs outside. Jake stays by the entrance as you go down the hall and through your house’s linen closet to find a spare towel for the drenched boy.

“Nah it’s no big deal, really. Just fulfilling my duties as your loyal boyfriend,” he grins, even though you can’t see him. He likes calling himself that. Your boyfriend.

Jake continues to shake his messy hair to get the excess rain off, giving a mental apology to whoever is going to have to mop up the puddle forming on the floor due to his unannounced visit. Probably you.

Jake hears you laugh down the hall. “You’re really invested in your role, huh? Keep this up and you might actually trick me into believing you’re my actual boyfriend.”

Actual boyfriend? Jake likes the sound of that. Maybe he will keep this up then.

Jake doesn’t have much experience in acting, unless you count that time he played the role of Town Villager #3 in the third grade play, so he never found it as one of his interests. But playing the role of your boyfriend was one he was willing to fulfill for the rest of life, even if it was just for show.

Jake doesn’t respond to your comment, he’s instead self-aware of his blushing cheeks, thankful that you’re too busy rummaging through your linen closet to take notice.

“Plus, you didn’t have lunch today and I had feeling you were going to be too caught up in your work to feed yourself anything other than instant ramen,” he sets down his gifts to you on your living room’s coffee table as you come around the corner, fresh towel and new set of clothes in hand.

His eyes fall on the familiar looking pair of sweatpants and hoodie resting on the palms of your hands.

Hm. A little too familiar.

Then, it clicks in his head.

His eyes narrow at you as you giggle at his reaction, “Oh, so it takes me getting drenched in the rain for you to finally return my clothes that I’ve been missing!?”

“Hey! I’m not returning them, simply loaning them out to a friend who’s in dire need. You basically gifted them to me the second you left them here months ago.”

“You’re annoying.”

“Love you too,” you toss the clothes at him and take a seat on the floor around your coffee table, prepping the table with the boxes of Chinese food Jake supplied.

After Jake changes into the stolen dry clothes, he takes a seat next to an already-eating you at the coffee table.

“You. are. my lord and savior Sim Jaeyun,” you’re saying with your mouth full of fried rice. You sigh from satisfaction and rest your head against Jake’s shoulder as you continue chewing. He grins as he helps himself to his own serving of fried rice and orange chicken.

You look up at him from your spot, “How was team bonding today?”

Jake groans in response, clearly annoyed. “Stupid. I don’t get how doing trust falls and pyramid building is going to get us any closer. If anything, I almost FELL off that pyramid today!”

You don’t know why, but you find yourself admiring him and his soft features as he continues to rant about one of his teammates, specifically, the one who almost dropped him.

The way his messy hair, unkept from the rain ruining it, almost covers his eyes (but you tell yourself you like it this way, it looks more natural on him), the way the corners of his lips are always perked upwards (even when he’s ranting), the way his eyes sparkle whenever he’s truly passionate about whatever he’s talking about, the way his eyes look at you like–

“Stare much? Look, I get you can’t resist my good looks but at least be subtle about it,” he smirks at you as he takes another spoon of rice.

You break out of his trance and scoff at him.

“You’re cute when you rant,” you nonchalantly say as you move from your spot to mirror his actions and add more rice to your plate as well. Jake’s stills at your sudden comment, unsure of how to respond. Lucky for him, you’re distracted by the mountain of food on your plate to even notice the blushing mess of a boy next to you.

“You know, you’re lucky you’re cute. Or else I’d deck you right here and now for ditching me after school today.”

Anddd there goes the moment. Leave it to you to follow up a compliment with a threat of violence.

Jake finds it cute anyways. He always finds you cute.

Jake narrows his eyes and lightly shoves you before an apology is written all over his face. “Sorry about that by the way. I feel awful about making you walk home when it was freezing out.”

“Nah, it’s okay. Sunghoon gave me a ride, actually. Did you know he does debate? I guess you learn something new everyday,” you ramble, unaware of the boy next to you getting tense at the sudden mention of the other’s name.

Up until now, Jake’s completely forgotten about Sunghoon's involvement in this entire scheme. In fact, the past 48 hours with you have felt so normal, so comfortable, he almost forgot about the deal in the first place. “You think he has any clue?” Jake suddenly asks, referring to the plan.

You immediately know what he’s referring to, as Jake practically worded out your very own thoughts.

You shrug. “Not a single one. We’re practically William and Kate in his eyes. But honestly, that’s the least of my worries right now. I’m too distracted by my exams right now to care.”

Jake feels guilty for being satisfied with your answer. He’s 100% sure that if convincing Sunghoon took you two an entire lifetime of fake dating, he’d be all too willing to do it.

“Go to Jay’s party with me tomorrow,” he abruptly says, catching your attention as your mouth is stuffed. Cute.

He pokes your cheek. “It’ll get your mind off of work and plus, what’s more convincing than showing up to a party with your amazing boyfriend?” he wiggles his eyebrows at you. Jake doesn’t know where he gets his sudden surge of confidence. But he does know he loves calling himself your boyfriend...even if it’s for the time being.

Rolling your eyes and swatting his poking fingers away from your face, you ponder on his suggestion.

“You mean my annoying boyfriend,” you stick your tongue out at him. Jake takes a mental picture and hopes it never leaves his mind.

“But I guess you could be right. Maybe I can clear my head for the night before I study my ass off all weekend.”

Friday, December 11th

The party does not clear your mind.

If anything, it gives you enough headaches to last you at least until the end of high-school.

You come to this revelation as you and Jake approach Jay’s home, a luxurious mansion sitting at the end of a cul-de-sac, lined with similarly luxurious palaces, located in an equally luxurious neighborhood.

You come to this revelation when you can already feel the pounding bass of music as you walk up Jay’s driveway.

You come to this revelation when, not even two seconds after entering Jay’s front doors––

“You’re here!” A buzzed Jay shouts at the two of you, causing the both of you to contemplate your past choices that brought you here today. Jay definitely isn’t straight up drunk yet, but Jake still makes a mental note to keep an eye on him tonight. Just in case.

The blonde-haired boy is quick to hand over two red solo cups of god knows what, to which you and Jake immediately put down on the nearest table after Jay walks away to greet the next incoming guests (you know, to not hurt his feelings).

You and Jake are lucky enough to have been around Jay and his parties long enough to know that going all out at these parties will not be pretty the next morning.

You cringe at the memory of last year, when you had to suffer from possibly the worst hangover of all hangovers after one of Jay’s parties. Jake will never let you forget how miserable you looked the next morning. His camera roll’s album titled “y/n blackmail pics” can vouch for that.

“Remind me again to never listen to you,” you almost have to shout at Jake over the thumping music. Jake laughs at your comment and tugs at your hand as he begins entering the house.

The two of you do your rounds of greetings to the people you know...and random underclassmen who you swear you have never seen before but somehow made it to this party. You’ve always questioned how Jay’s invite list worked. Maybe there isn’t one. That would explain how it looked like someone announced Jay was giving out free Teslas and the entire school got hold of the news.

“Thank god you guys are here,” you hear a voice come from behind the two of you as you guys leave the main room to enter the house’s smaller, but just as luxurious looking, den. You turn to see Heeseung with Sunghoon following closely behind, trying his best not to get swept away in the crowd of people.

The den is where you usually stayed during these parties. It’s not like there are rules of where people are allowed to party, by any means, but it’s like how a high-school’s cafeteria worked. There’s a mutual silent agreement of where everyone goes, and the den is where the party host and his friends went.

“Okay, is it just me, or is tonight’s party just a little...too..much?” Sunghoon asks as the four of you take your seats on the main couch of the room. Jake’s quick to make space for you next to him as you go to sit, but to his surprise, you find your home right on his lap.

“You said be convincing right?” you say into his ear as you settle yourself. Right. That’s totally why. Because you had to go along with the ruse. Obviously.

You shift a bit so you’re more facing sideways, not blocking off Jake’s line of vision as the boy himself is..well, calling him a rag doll might be excessive.

But he’s sure he looks like one right now, having lost all senses in his limbs, leaving him frozen underneath you.

Jake Sim is the epitome of politeness. He was raised in a family that taught him how to respectfully greet others, how to always offer food to others before eating it himself, how to properly treat a significant other. As a result, Jake grew up to be one of the sweetest, kindest, purest people to ever walk this earth.

(Relatively speaking, the earth is large, but so is Jake’s heart.)

But human-beings aren’t perfect, they must have a balance. A balance of pros and cons.

Sure, he can’t pack his own lunch and sometimes forgets to water the little succulent you gifted him that’s currently seated on his window sill. Sure, sometimes he’s too sweet for his own good, you know, like willing-to-be-your-fake-boyfriend too sweet. But aside from the minor details, Jake Sim doesn’t have many cons, no.

But he sure can be awkward.

And so because Jake Sim is sweet, kind, pure, and awkward, he is unsure of what to do with himself when you’re seated right on top of him.

As if you could read his befuddled mind, you take his arm that’s resting behind you to wrap around your waist as your support as you throw one of your arms around his shoulder. And throughout this entire adjustment, his widened eyes are staring right at you.

Bless this pure, pure boy.

Also bless the position you’re in, blocking the two other boys from directly seeing Jake’s face. Because if they were to catch glimpse of Jake’s expression right now, your cover might be blown, just like that. You’re lucky Heeseung and Sunghoon are distracted by another classmate who came up to them.

“Relax,” you sweetly laugh, cupping his chin with your free hand and lightly squeezing his cheeks. “You’re so adorably awkward.”

Jake pouts at you. “I am not awkward!”

“Right, and I’m totally dating you for real,” you playfully whisper at him, eliciting a poke at your waist in response.

Twenty minutes of people-watching-aka-“who do you think is gonna pass out first?”-from-your-spot-on-the-couch later, the four of you draw your attention to the rowdy party host you all have the honor of calling your friend––aka Jay––dancing (that is, if you call wildly swinging your limbs in all four directions dancing) in the middle of the den.

"Oh god, look at him," Sunghoon voices from besides you.

Heeseung's already filming the moment on his phone. Ah yes, technology. The best thing to ever happen to drunk teens' friends.

"He's so wasted," you throw your head back as you let out a laugh. “We should help the kid out.”

Poor Jay. He's not gonna hear the end of it after tonight.

"I don't know why he thinks these parties are such a good idea when he knows how trashed he's gonna be when he wakes up," Jake says, his hand naturally squeezing your waist as you giggle at his comment. "And how trashed the house will be."

Jay slumbers over to where the four of you are seated, and abruptly stops right in front of the couch.

"My best friends!" Jay happily cheers. “Having fun?”

“Watching you? Always,” you say to the boy who’s squeezing into a seat between you and Sunghoon, as if the small couch wasn’t already suffocating enough (and that’s with you on Jake’s lap).

“But for real though, you should probably lay off the drinks for now,” Heeseung insists. “For all our sakes.”

Sunghoon nods along and grabs the cup Jay’s currently nursing and sets it down where it’s out of Jay’s reach, much to his dismay. But the disappointment quickly leaves the dazed boy’s head, as his attention is now directed towards you and Jake.

“Well if it isn’t mom and dad,” Jay turns to face you and Jake, certainly amused by your seating arrangement.

“You know–” Jay points a finger at the two of you. “For a couple that’s certainly close, I haven’t seen you two kiss.”

Jake is immediately coughing, certainly not expecting that to come out of his friend’s mouth.

“Okay and your point is?” Jake frowns at Jay. If Jay wasn’t tipsy, Jake would’ve smacked the back of his head by now.

“I’m just saying...” the blonde responds, both hands up in the air as if Jake is accusing him of something, when in was, in fact, the opposite. “But nevermind, Jakey boy here is probably too innocent for such nonsense anyways.”

Yes, it’s confirmed. Once Jay sobers up tomorrow, Jake is driving over to his house (even though it’s a good ten minute drive from his own) just to smack him.

“What do you mean I’m too–”

Jake doesn’t finish his sentence. In fact, Jake doesn’t even remember what he was going to say.

Jake doesn’t think nor feel anything else other than your lips planted on his.

You’re pulling him in close, your hands cupping his face as his own are twitching on your waist, his mind flustered. You move your hands from his face to his neck, to which Jake immediately relaxes at.

Sure, you two are in the middle of a dumb high-school party, one filled with pounding music and shouting teenagers, but right now, in this moment, Jake can only feel you. And he doesn’t want the feeling to ever stop.

When you part, Jake’s eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips, his own parted in shock. He thinks he might pass out right here and now. He thinks his heart might explode right here and now. He thinks he might lov-

“Happy?” you turn to a satisfied Jay, ignoring the looks of amusement from Heesung and Sunghoon besides him.

“Well,” you pat Jake’s leg as you get up from your spot. “I’m gonna get us some drinks. Punch only, of course.”

Jake’s eyes are on you as you walk away, his face tinted pink from the adrenaline of it all, his heart racing.

Jake thinks back to three days ago, when he told himself that this idea of yours was going to be all fine. After all, it was only going to be for one week. Afterwards, he can move on with his life as if nothing happened.

But fast forward 72 hours later, 72 hours after you and Jake started this act, 72 hours after Jake told himself it’ll be all fine, Jake knows he was poorly mistaken.

Because 72 hours later, in the middle of a party that reeked of the combined smell of alcohol and sweat, Jake knows one thing and one thing for sure.

He never wants to move on from the feeling of being with you. He never wants to move on from this.

From you.

He’s screwed.

Saturday, December 12th

When Jake wakes up, much later than he intended to, on Saturday morning, the first sensation he feels are his tingling lips, still in disbelief that they graced your own last night.

The second sensation being his pounding mind––it’s running through ten million thoughts at a time, telling him no last night wasn’t a dream.

Third: his heart beating so fast at the thought of you, he thinks he might beat out of his chest.

And fourth, a buzzing noise.

Jake blindly flounders his arm to the table beside him in hopes of finding the origin of the annoying sound, aka, his phone.

After knocking down multiple miscellaneous items on his nightstand (he makes a mental note to clean his room later), he successfully retrieves the item of search.

Jake squints at the bright screen, mind still cloudy from a mix of 1) being half-asleep, and 2) still processing what happened the night before.

y/n [11:10AM]: r u awake yet?

y/n [11:22AM]: imma take that as a no

y/n [11:35AM]: lemme know when ur up

jake [11:44AM]: just woke up sorry

jake [11:44AM]: are you okay? what’s up

y/n [11:45AM]: r u busy?

y/n [11:45AM]: kinda wanted to talk abt smth

jake [11:45AM]: uh well no im still in bed lmao

y/n [11:46AM]: cool im outside your door

Jake’s eyes widen as he processes your last few texts.

Talk? Outside his door?

Jake’s heart is nervously pounding as jumps out of bed and quickly puts on the first plaid flannel he finds. He scrambles to his mirror and gives his reflection a quick run-down.

He’s sporting your his favorite hoodie underneath the flannel that’s long overdue a wash and his tousled hair has seen better days, but he couldn't care less.

Before his mind can catch up to his actions, he’s rushing down the stairs, skipping two at a time and to this front door. Because he didn’t want to keep you waiting? Because he was too excited to see you? Maybe a mix of both. Definitely more of the latter, however.

He quickly runs a hand through his hair to try to fix it up as much as he can, to no avail, before opening the door to reveal you, sitting on the steps of his front porch.

“y/n,” he’s breathing heavily as you turn to greet him with your sweet smile he didn’t even realize he was missing. Is it possible to miss someone overnight? Jake concludes yes, it definitely is.

“Did you run down here or something?,” you question his out-of-breath state, a teasing tone laces the tip of your tongue.

“Or something,” Jake mutters as he closes the front door behind him to join you on the steps when you make no sign of moving. “Have you been out here all morning?”

“Not allll morning. I had a feeling you’d sleep in so I came around the time I first texted you. Would’ve knocked but didn’t wanna bother your family,” you hum, keeping your eyes trained on the peaceful scenery around you.

You’ve always loved Jake’s neighborhood, it brought you a sense of peace, a sense of home.

Or was that because it reminded you of Jake?

“You could never be a bother,” he quickly rebuttals as he takes his seat next to you on the steps.

You respond with a soft smile before turning your attention back to anything other than the boy next to you. Your mind seems to be lost in its own thoughts, Jake can tell by the distant look in your eyes.

The sound of birds chirping in the distance fills the silence that falls between the two of you.

Any other day, Jake would love this. He savors every second he’s with you, even if it’s just pure silence.

But this silence was different. It wasn’t the usual comforting, warm silence that the two of you share on a typical day. This one held tension, tension so thick that Jake doesn’t know where to begin thinking.

But here’s the thing. Jake doesn’t think.

Not when it comes to you.

He takes a deep breath. Rubs his hands together. Pats them on his lap. Turns towards you.

“Look, I-”

“I think I might like you.” The words come out of your mouth so fast, Jake’s positive he heard you wrong the first time around.

He whips his head to meet your eyes, your own already staring back at him, your bottom lip nervously tucked under your teeth.

“No, I––I do. I know I do. I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to tell you and I don’t think I’m doing a very good job right now,” the words are all of the sudden tumbling out of your mouth as if your brain flipped a switch and isn’t able to turn it off. “In hindsight, I should’ve known better to fake date my own best friend. But these past few days made me realize how much I love being with you. And not like how I’m always with you 24/7 before this entire thing started, but being with you. I even started getting that weird, bubbly feeling in my stomach every time I so much as heard your name. And then last night at the party, I realized afterwards that I wouldn’t have kissed you if some part of me didn’t see you in that way. Even if it meant Jay would’ve been on our asses all night if I didn’t. So yeah.”

You finish with a deep breath and look up at him to meet his widened eyes. Silence.

Jake thought he was braindead during last week’s history quiz. Jake thought he was braindead when he had to cram a semester’s worth of chemistry content the night before his exam. Heck, Jake thought he was braindead when you first told him about your idea of a fake dating him. But no, this is braindead.

He’s finally hearing what he’s been dreaming of for so long, and of all times, now his brain decides to shut off.

“Are you..uh..are you gonna say anything?” You’re nervously fumbling with your hands, desperate to distract yourself with anything else apart from his silent stare.

"Why are you sorry?" Jake says before his mind can think of anything else. He doesn't pay attention to his thumping heart that's one look-from-you away from exploding right then and there. "You didn't do anything wrong. If anything, you took the words right out of my mouth.”

Now you're staring at him with the wide eyes, the words processing in your mind.

Jake realizes he's waited too long to do this. A few years too long. He also realizes he shouldn't have put on that extra layer of a flannel. The nervous tension created by the two of you was suffocating enough, and being outside under the bright sun didn’t help.

"I like you too. God y/n, I like you too so much," Jake doesn't even care if his words are all sorts of messed up right now. He just needs you to get the idea. "I have for a while now.”

You let out a relieved sigh, ecstasy rushing through your blood. “Really? I think I have for a while too. I’m so stupid, it took me so long to realize it. It didn’t hit me until I realized how I felt around you, compared to the guy I’m supposed to actually have a crush on.”

Jake lets out a laugh, the tension immediately dissolving. “Hey, if it wasn’t for Sunghoon, I don’t think we’d be here right now.”

“You’re right, I’m too oblivious and you’re too awkward to actually make a move,” you wink at him. If his heart wasn’t fluttering at the sight of you, on his porch on a Saturday morning, confessing your feelings to him, Jake probably would’ve lightly shoved you away.

Instead, he’s turning to you with the most endeared look on his face, and you’re blushing underneath his gaze.

“What? Stare much?” You giggle, quoting the boy himself as you shyly duck your head to avoid his stare.

Jake gently grabs your chin to tilt your face towards his, and before you can process what’s happening, he suddenly meets your lips with his own, closing the gap between you two.

Jake thinks if the ground underneath him right now decided to open up and swallow him whole, he’d die happily.

Jake smiles against you, feeling comfort in ways he’ll never be able to achieve without you.

Your hands instinctively find their way into his hair, as one of his rests below your ear, thumb softly caressing your cheek, the other pulling you in by the waist. He’s naturally leaning into you, gravitating towards your warmth, unable to stop the giddy feeling bubbling in his stomach.

He doesn’t think the feeling will ever go away.

When you pull away to catch your breath, you rest your head against the nook of his neck, basking in his presence as his arms both find their way around your waist. You sigh in pleasure.

“Remember at the beginning of all of this, when you told me ‘Just try not to fall in love with me?’” Jake gently says. Jake feels the slight nod you give against his shoulder as you hum in response.

Jake whispers two more words into your ear, filling you with happiness and warmth you know you won’t be able to find through anyone––or anything––else.

“Too late.”

✰ if you made it ‘til the end, ily :’)))))

2K notes · View notes

writingsbychlo · 3 years

Text

mistletoe magic | stiles stilinski

word count; 10,490

summary; stiles learns that his cute neighbour might be a witch after accidentally getting her spellbooks delivered to him instead.

notes; I know a witch!au isn’t a huge au for stiles, because he’s had evident races of magic throughout the series anyway, but just enjoy it!

warnings; smut, unprotected sex, use of magic

It had been a pretty regular Monday morning for Stiles.

At six sharp, he’d been up and awake, barely functional but stumbling through his apartment and clicking on the coffee machine, before hopping into the shower for a quick wash. When he’d emerged, the machine had just finished grinding, as always, his routine functioning like a well-oiled machine now, and he’d moved it all across into a to-go cup and left it on the counter before going to get dressed.

He’d stumbled around to find his school books and shove them into a bag, eaten two cinnamon pop tarts that had burned the tips of his fingers when he’d grabbed them straight from the toaster, and had still been chewing as he shoved his keys in his pocket and sipped at his coffee, straight into the elevator at twenty to seven.

It was a fifteen-minute walk across campus to his early morning lecture on a Monday, leaving him with a few minutes to spare, in case he saw the sweet older lady from two floors down and wanted to say ‘hi’, or the cute neighbour who lived across the hall that always made him fall over his own feet, or maybe even the kid who delivers newspapers and is always falling off of his bike. He made it on time, took some great notes, and was feeling a little more alive and welcome into his day.

At exactly ten past one, he’d been home, having gone to the library to get some study in and find his new books, and get lunch at the diner he always ate at after classes, a cheeseburger and curly fries, and grabbed his letters and a parcel from the mail slot with his housing number printed on, tucking the package under his arm and heading upstairs and back to his flat, ready to flick through his bills.

All according to plan. One year and four months away at university and he knew every day like he’d been doing it for a decade, so he was only half-way to the kitchen when he remembered the package he was clutching under his arm, coming to a complete halt, throwing the usual assortment of envelopes away to the counter, and producing the neatly wrapped bundle.

He didn’t question it, not even bothering to look at the front, figuring it was just an early delivery on the textbooks that he wasn’t expecting to get here for another three weeks, finger slipping under the folds of the brown paper and tearing it away, fingers dancing over the covers of the books, before his brows were furrowing once again.

These were definitely not his ‘intro to psychological profiling’ textbooks.

Beautiful swirls in gold, carved into dark leather across the front, Latin words he didn’t understand before he was opening the cover, brushing off a layer of dust and letting one brow arch up. The text inside was English - though, no modern - and paper that he was cautious to take care of, simply from what appeared to be the age of it, stained and worn, finger marks clear on the corner from being passed down through generations. It was handwritten, drawings in old ink that had leaked onto the paper a little, rough and coarse, and labelled doodles with names he had never heard of before.

At a glance, he would assume it to be some kind of witchcraft.

He felt on edge, suddenly. He’d left Beacon Hills to come to somewhere that no supernatural would follow, where things like werewolves were still a myth, something to be laughed at, and he swallowed thickly, looking around his apartment as though someone was going to jump out. He loved his friends, he really did, and he didn’t so much mind the supernatural when he was with them all because they protected him, but alone out here, he and his bat didn’t stand a chance.

Now, it was Christmas, he knew this from the poor excuse of a tree up in his living room, and the snow outside, and the fact that for the last six weeks, his usual mochas had been a gingerbread-spiced mocha, on the insistence of the barista who served him whenever he ventured into the little coffee shop joint, and he was growing find of it. So, he tried to be optimistic, in the spirit of festivities and all that, and texted the group chat, waiting to see if any of them had sent him the books as a present, maybe even his father or Melissa. He even texted Parrish.

Except, they all said no, and now, he was stumped. Then, as he was being extra nosey and flicking through the book, he came across a page marked with a small slip of card, the item falling out, and he cursed, having no idea which page it came from, but as he picked up the piece of paper, one of the questions in his puzzle finally gained another piece towards the jigsaw.

‘(Y/N), the spell you’re looking for is here, but be careful, it’s a strong one.’

So, the books are for his hot neighbour, the next number up from his, and it now made sense as to why he had these books - they were a mistake. It opened a new question, however, as to why you would be getting them.

He had absolutely no patience, barley remembering to flick the catch on his door so that he’d be able to get back inside, before he was striding across the hall in one, two steps, and knocking on the wood. He could hear you shuffling around inside, the soft and muffled notes of the classic rock music you’d been listening to getting turned right down to low. It only took you a further few seconds until you were opening the door, but it felt like years to him with his impatience, fingers tapping against the books agitatedly, biting the nail of the other thumb, and his foot was tapping against the floor.

When you opened the door, though, he felt like it was too soon, like he wasn’t prepared for what to say, his breath hitching in his throat as his heart leapt in his chest, eyes sweeping down along your body and widening at your bare legs, only a t-shirt hanging on your frame, rising up to reveal the edge of a pair of white lace panties as you opened the door, and he forced his eyes back up to yours, wincing as he bit down a little too harshly on his nail, and pulled it from his mouth, shaking it as his dropped to his side.

“Hey, neighbour.”

“H-Hi. Hello. Yes, hi.” He already wanted to die a little bit, he hadn't stuttered this much in front of a pretty girl since junior year in high school, even Lydia had lost this effect on him, and college really had been a growing experience for him. He’d had a fair few hook-ups, and experimented, and he wasn’t shy about flirting when he wanted to, but you always through hi right back through loops, like he was still that kid with a buzzcut.

“What can I do for you, four-A?”

“Stiles. My name is Stiles.” He waited for the usual reaction, the cringe, the eyebrows shooting up, the scowl, something to indicate that you had actually heard the pronunciation, but you only smiled a little wider.

“I know. After I introduced myself and you fell over and didn’t give me your name, I checked the mail in your post-slot. I was curious. There was a lot addressed to Mieczysłav, but then one with a handwritten address to Stiles.” You shrugged, leaning against the doorframe, and crossing your arms, and while you might seem casual, at least his degree was coming in useful for something, as your body language read an entirely different reaction, insecurity and worry rolling off of you in invisible waves of tells.

He rubbed at the back of his neck with his free hand, laughing slightly. “That sounds like something I would do.”

Silence fell between you both for a second, and he couldn't help but stare, taking in every detail of your face, the way your lower lip was a little reddened, and he figured you must have been nibbling on it while working, and your hair was messy, an attempt to pin it back that seemed to have come loose and entirely ineffective, presumably from dancing, because you looked a little flushed. When you raised your brows at him a little, he realised you were waiting for him to explain himself, why he was on your doorstep, and he flushed with embarrassment shaking his head clear.

“I got your spellbooks by mistake.” He held them out, eyes widening even more, before his jaw was dropping open. “Book. Regular books. Not spell books, because that would imply magic, right? And, that’s dumb. Just regular books. I didn’t look at them, at all, not even a little bit, I promise.”

“You don’t believe in magic, then?” You took them from him, a coy smile on your lips, and you placed them down on the counter beside the door, pushing a bowl of potpourri getting pushed aside, along with your car keys and what looked like an incense burner.

“Do you?”

He was testing the water, seeing where your mind was at, and as a whistling came from your kitchen, you glanced back over to the kettle on the hob, and he thought this conversation might be about to come to an end. “Well, I think there’s always a little magic in life, even if people don’t notice it. You have to believe in magic to be able to see it. It’s like the supernatural that way.”

“And, you believe in the supernatural, huh?” He felt bad for the way he said it, because it was mocking, but he had to be sure that you weren’t messing with him, or spying on him, he had to try and find out who you were, but you only looked away as the whistling got louder, opening the door a little more and waving him inside as you walked away, and he stumbled after you and closed the door before his mind had even caught up with the movement of his feet.

Your apartment was littered with plants. The windowsills were lined with them, all brought green and blooming, even though he was sure it wasn’t the right season, and there was even a set of cactuses along a shelf near the corridor. There was a homey feel to your place, almost earthy, neutral tones and soft accents, a smell that was so calming he felt his own muscles begin to relax, and the music had changed from classic rock to some country song he was sure he’d heard in a movie somewhere but couldn't quite place it, and he followed you to the kitchen.

Rows of cookbooks and recipe folders stacked up on top of a lower cupboard, and he swallowed thickly, averting his gaze from the way your lace panties hugged your ass deliciously as you reached up for a mug, bringing back two, and pouring them both full of the herbal concoction you’d been making. On a mismatching saucer, you offered it to him, and he sniffed it carefully, but remembered his manners, mumbling a ‘thank you’, because his mother raised his right, even if he was a little suspicious of you.

“Relax, Stiles, if I was going to poison you, I wouldn’t be giving you tea made of Valerian and Lemon Balm. Do you want any honey, honey?” You grinned a little at your joke, but he shook his head, watching as you stirred a spoonful of the sticky sweetener into your own, and taking a tentative sip after blowing on the surface. It wasn’t all that bad, he had to admit, and he found his tensions slipping away a little. “It’s for relaxing, and helping with sleep.”

“It’s good.” You smiled, blowing lightly on your own, and he decided that he could busy himself by checking out your posters. An interesting arrangement, one was a band poster, the other was a chart with the phases of the moon, a third with diagrams of plants and little facts underneath, and the fourth, with symbols and drawing he didn’t quite understand. “So, you’re really embracing that whole witch thing, then?”

“Well, seeing as I am a witch, I would think it’s only appropriate.” He tried to hide his grin behind his mug, shaking his head a little, not believing that they really existed, and you didn’t miss the glint in his eyes, clearly, because there was a playful kind of offence flashing across your face. “You can’t tell me you think I’m insane, not when there’s so much of the supernatural all over you, Stiles.”

“The supernatural? Really?”

“So, you’re not the emissary to a pack of werewolves?” You challenged, his jaw dropping at the accuracy of it, and it was your turn to laugh at him. “It’s literally stitched into your aura, I sensed another supernatural the second you walked into the building.”

“I just associate with a lot of ‘em, but I’m not supernatural myself.”

“You sure about that?” He stilled, memories flashing behind his eyes of a time when he once was, and you seemed to pick up on the slightly sour mood he’d taken on, then again, he wasn’t really sure where your abilities lay, being that Scott or Derek would have simply sniffed it out on him. Your hand on his arm snapped him back to the moment, fingers squeezing lightly at his bicep. “You don’t have to talk about it.”

“There was a possibility, once, but it’s gone. There’s a dark chapter in my past, and the spark I was told I once had disappeared when I got through it.”

It went quiet again after that, your fingers slipping down from his arm to take his, and you placed your cup down, the steaming brew barely touched, but he followed suit, letting himself be pulled along as you directed him back to the living room. You were distracting him, it was an obvious ploy, but he was excited to learn, and he let the sadness of remembering his possession fade away as the thrill of new knowledge took over. “I can tell you have a lot of questions, so, what do you want to know first?”

He rubbed at his chin, settling down onto the couch at the edge of the room, finding it surprisingly comfortable, and you were busying yourself around him, a little water jug in your hand as you nurtured the abundance of houseplants you owned. “How did you know about my pack? And how much do you know about them?”

“It’s in your aura, I suppose. I can just pick up hints of different things when you’re around. The wolves are obvious, I’ve been around a lot of wolves. I also get death, and I've never met a banshee, but I assume that’s what it is. I knew you were the emissary because you’re the only magic in there, I would sense other traces on you, and there’s something else I can’t quite place.” Your face screwed up a little bit as you thought about it, nose wrinkling adorably before shrugging. “Like a werewolf, but not quite. I can’t get it.”

“She’s a werecoyote.”

You paused your pouring, turning to look at him, eyes flicking lightly around his being, before smiling slightly to yourself, and going back to your task. “Huh. Interesting.”

“Have you been a witch your whole life?”

“Since the day I was born, but I didn’t know or start practising until I was older. It just kinda’ happens, comes out of nowhere at a certain age, you start to realise you have abilities.” You had moved onto using a dropper to give little drips of water to cacti and succulents, standing on a small step stool as you did.

“Do you have to go to a school, like Harry Potter? Do you have a wand?”

You laughed at that, a genuine and hearty laugh, and you finished up your tasks, legs folding underneath yourself and you smirked a little at him as you sat down and got comfortable. “You wish, Stilinski. It’s not like that, it's more of an earthly connection than magic. It’s why my plants are so healthy. I can brew stuff, make little potions-” You motioned a hand over the jars lining the shelves on the walls, his eyes scanning over each one, picking out the neatly written titles across the fronts. “-I can cast very light spells, but it’s not the sort of thing where you can curse people, or teleport.”

“So, you can’t curse people to turn into frogs?”

“No, unfortunately not.” He was sure your giggle was the sweetest he’d ever heard, and he dared to twist himself around a little more, inching slightly closer to you across the couch. “I can do some stuff, like make your skin break out or give you a rash that won’t go away until I let it, and I can even give you headaches and such, but I don’t like to dabble in that sort of stuff. I much prefer protection charms.”

“Protection charms?” His heart skipped a little beat at the way your face lit up as you nodded, and he was intrigued, interest piqued. “I could use one of those, y’know, I’m incredibly clumsy and often get into supernatural trouble when I’m home. Hasn’t been so bad since I got here. Will you make me one?”

Your eyes left him, bottom lip nibbled between your teeth, and for a second he had worried he’d messed up, unsure on how witch spellcasting etiquette worked, but then you were moving across the room, opening up the cabinet on the other side of the room, and inside the doors and wooden frame hung what must be close to a thirty different decorative charms. Some were dreamcatchers or garlands hanging on the inside of the door, others were handcrafted little ornaments sitting on the shelves and filling them up, and your fingers were flittering over them all.

When you found what you were looking for, you lifted it out, a dream catcher that was bright and colourful and a little odd-looking, before bringing it back over to him, and presenting him with it cautiously. “You already made me one?”

“Yeah, well, I couldn’t let the cute guy from across the hall get any more injuries. I watched you fall over five times in your first week living here. You’re really clumsy.”

He felt heat rush to his cheeks, and yet he couldn't help the goofy grin that travelled across his features, not mentioning the fact that he noticed you sitting considerably closer to home when you took your seat once again. He was embarrassed for two reasons, the first being that you had noticed his innate penchant for ridiculous injuries, but more overwhelmingly, the second being that you still thought he was cute. College might have helped him bloom a little, but when he had a crush, he was still a bumbling mess, and he didn’t know quite how to respond.

He busied himself with taking in the details of the dreamcatcher. Somehow, despite this being the first real conversation that the two of you had ever had, passing and fleeting chats in the halls and elevator not counting, you had managed to capture his entire essence, he could already tell. The strings were made of wool, chunky and all different colours, a mix of yellows and blues, woven in together and tangled in strange patterns, but beautiful nonetheless, and the little accents were what made it complete.

A button that had fallen off of one of his flannels, he recognised the distinctive wooden piece, and it was woven into the design, along with a blue ribbon in the same colour of the jeep that was tied in a bow, and a wooden twig tangled in it. Dangling on more pieces of wool from the bottom was a keyring he was sure he’d lost after leaving it downstairs overnight, the Yoda on it looking cleaner than he remembered, and you must've cleaned it. There was also a black feather, and a sprig of some kind of dried herb that he didn't recognise, but enjoyed the smell anyway.

It was intricate and personal, and he felt chuffed just to know that you’d made one for him, a little security and peace washing over him to know that someone was out here looking after him, completely unmaliciously, simply because you wanted to.

“This is incredible.” You let out a breath of relief, he recognised it in the way your body slumped a little, and he placed it down carefully on the coffee table beside you both, reaching out to take your hand in his, and daring to lace your fingers together and squeeze in gratitude, and you held onto him yourself, gaze dropping down to your connected hands. In a bold move of your own, you lifted your other hand, holding onto his with both of yours, and his thumb lifted out to brush lightly over your skin. “You’re the reason I don’t get papercuts and splinters anymore.”

“And you are very welcome for that.” You teased him back, and an easy kind of harmony fell between you both, your presence being more comfortable simply having only just really begun to meet you than he ever had been with someone new. It was strange, to feel so relaxed and at home with you, the way you put his fears at ease and soothed every worry without even trying, making him feel welcome and accepted, like he’d known you for years, not just shy of an hour. “Will you tell me about your pack?”

“You really want to know?” He couldn’t mask his surprise, and you nodded, excitement gleaming in your eyes, and he felt a surge of pride swell up in his system at the idea of getting to boast about his friends completely honestly for the first time in his life. There was no threat, he wasn’t showing off their skills as a way to try and ward off a threat or intimidate someone, but he simply wanted everyone else to be as awed by them as he was, and he didn’t have to hide any supernatural secrets from you. “Shall I start at the beginning?”

“Is it a long story?”

“Very long.” He confirmed, a shy laugh leaving you, before you were shifting again.

“How about I go and make us some fresh tea, then?” You were on your feet, wandering away to the kitchen as soon as he’d offered his affirmations of the idea, and he decided to follow after you, already beginning to blather about Peter Hale.

Hours seemed to pass by, as he spoke to you, two more pots of tea being made, and you’d broken out your snack-store for him, before the two of you had ordered pizza. He’d made himself at home, too, keys and phone sitting abandoned on the table, shoes kicked off on the floor, and feet stretched out along the couch. You were sitting at the opposite end, your legs stretched out in his direction, and one of his hands was sitting on your ankle, fingers drawing patterns on the soft skin there absentmindedly as his other hand was used to gesture wildly around himself.

He told you it all, confessing right from the beginning as he encountered Derek Hale, who liked to lurk in the woods, which had made you crack up as he told you about how the man was basically now the alpha, even if Scott was officially the alpha, and he’d told you about Jackson’s kanima phase, which had made you crack up even more as you claimed he deserved it.

You’d been shocked by his homicidal English teacher, and comforted him when he spilled his heart to you over the nogitsune incident he hated to think about, accepting your hush happily, and revelling in the smell of your hair when you’d pressed in close to him, before retreating to your seat.

He told you all about the benefactor and the dread doctors, and about Allison’s death, which he still blamed himself for when he was on a low day, and you’d used your thumb to clear away the tear that had fallen from his cheek, leaving him blushing and breathless for a second when you’d pressed a light kiss to his cheekbone just after.

You had scooted closer to him and stayed there near the end of his tales, tucked under his arm, playing with his fingers over your shoulders as he rambled about how alone he’d felt while taken by the Wild Hunt, thoughts that he’d always kept locked up in his own mind, never having shared with another person before.

“You really got the short end of the ‘supernatural encounters’ stick then, huh?”

“Oh, sweetheart, that is the understatement of the century.” You lifted your head from his shoulder, your feet nudging together on the coffee table, the reindeer themed fluffy socks on your feet playing with the patchy and worn door knitted socks he’d had for years, worn to keep warm during the winter, even though your apartment was nice and toasty, the heaters running and the radiators on, and it was much cosier than his place had ever been.

The Christmas lights on a timer had come on, flickering around the place once the light had started fading, hours flashing by in the blink of an eye, a hazy glow cast over the apartment and creating a whole new range of shadows. “Do you want me to make charms for your friends?”

He watched you for a moment longer, trying to discern whether you were serious, and when he caught no gesture of ill-will, or hesitation, or hidden-motives, he smiled. “You’d do that?”

“Seems like you all need it.”

He shrugged a little, smiling when you rested your forehead against his, fingers playing together still, but feet stilling in their game of footsie. “I can’t believe I waited this long to get to know you. You’re, like, the coolest chick I’ve ever met.”

His eyes fluttered closed, he couldn't’ help it, noses bumping together as you both simply drowned in the moment, in what the moment was leading up to, where you both knew this was going but were revelling in the simple but exhilarating tension that was crackling with electricity in the millimetres of space between your lips and his. You were so close to him that he could feel it more than hear it when you whispered some words he didn’t quite understand, your breath fanning over his face in a dreamy sigh, and it took his hazed brain a second to catch up, before he was pulling back just enough to catch your eyes, one hand coming up to rest over your cheek as he turned to face you fully.

“Oh, my God. Did you just cast a spell?”

“Look up.” He was hesitant to pull back much further, but did so anyway, and he chuckled slightly as he spotted the little green plant beginning to sprout from the ceiling. Vines were still strengthening along the beam, and the leaves were beginning to form right before his eyes, white berries hanging between the green stems, and Stiles shook his head, in complete awe as he looked at it.

You were staring up to, eyes focused on the plant as it bloomed and he assumed you were concentrating on its development, but he couldn't hold back anymore, two hands on your cheeks, pulling your face back to his, and your lips barely parted to speak before his mouth was colliding with your own. A squeak left you, and he wanted to grin at being able illicit such a sound from you, but the temptation to kiss was just enough for him to contain himself. When your mind finally caught up, you were kissing him back just as eagerly, a soft sigh leaving you. “You are fucking adorable.”

The words were whispered into your mouth, he felt you shake with a soft laugh under his hold, before you were holding onto him just as tightly in return. One of your hands wrapped around his wrists, the other sliding over his bicep to his shoulder, before slipping down underneath, and smoothing over the front of his chest. He puffed out a little under your touch, pulling away for a quick breath, groaning slightly at the way your nails dug into his skin as he did, and then, he was diving right back into you.

Your hand slipped down to rest over his heart, the organ thudding under your hand, and he felt like it was going to burst right out of his chest, but as he pressed a little further into you, a shock like an electrocution was racing right through his body, a kind of jolt that was thoroughly exhilarating, and he pulled away, eyes wide as he stared at you.

You looked just as shocked as he expected he did too, his hands dropped down as he watched sparks and electricity crackle between your fingers and his, your brows raising at him. “Thought you said you had no magic left after.. y’know..”

He couldn’t drag his eyes away from it, your fingers weaving with his, a loud snapping sounding as a particularly bright flare went off, and he flinched a little, jaw dropping and a whine slipping from him as you contained it all the sight disappeared before his eyes. “So, there really are sparks flying between us, huh?”

He regretted the words the moment he’d said them, expecting to see on your face the same kind he’d always gotten from Malia or Lydia when he made those kinds of cheesy puns that only he enjoyed, even Scott daring to fix him with a bored or blank look, and Derek would simply glare, but much to his surprise, you laughed. It was fond, with a roll of your eyes and a huff to preempt it, but you laughed nonetheless, and he felt himself somehow manage to brighten even further. “That was cheesy.”

“I know.” He beamed, shifting a little, hands sinking down to your hips to pull you closer to himself as he settled back into the couch, and your hand pressed to the cushions beside his head, the other one coming up to weave into his hair lightly.

“I loved it. I am quite a fan of puns.”

“That’s good, because I usually have a lot of them.” He leaned up, daring himself to be bold enough to close that gap once again, and he could feel your lashes tickling his cheeks as you nuzzled into him a little more. “If I kiss you again, will those sparks happen this time, too?”

“If I stop controlling it, they will.”

“Stop controlling it, sweetheart.” He felt you move to nod your affirmations, but dipped his head in time, proud of his own reflexes as he caught your lips, feeling the hand in his hair tighten, and he was so glad he’d decided to grow it out all those years ago, because right now, he was losing all sense of himself in the way your nails would scratch across his scalp, or the delicious burning that flared over his skin for a split second when you pulled on his hair, before you were rubbing it softly, fingers working in tandem timing with your lips, teasing over his own.

That same feeling took up, a sparking that felt like fireworks, like energy surging through him, escaping at his fingertips in every place that he touched you, one palm smoothing along your back to somewhere that was definitely too lose to be respectable, as the other held onto your cheek still. You were taking control, your tongue darting out to trace over his lower lip, bribing him to part them but he needed no convincing, letting your tongue meet his own only a second after you’d made the request, equally breathy and needy noises escaping you both at the slow and wet drag of the muscles over one another.

His lungs were burning, lips beginning to sting as his assault on your mouth continued, his neck straining to hold this angle, and yet the more you kissed him, the more that the hazy feeling of getting to be with you like this raced through his body was the more he became addicted to needing more, chasing a high that he didn’t even know he wanted until now, like an addict finding his next hit.

You seemed to pick up on it all, as though you’d read all of his thoughts, because the second he’d had the lingering thoughts, you were settling yourself across his lap, a leg on either side of his own as you seated yourself down, and he couldn't help the way his hips bucked up a little to meet you, or the way his hand slid down fully to rest on your ass.

After all, as much as he’d gone through the make him grow up emotionally, physically he was still a horny-teen college boy, and you were one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, sitting half-naked in his lap and sucking on his lower lap while doing something with your tongue that was making him feel like he couldn't even breathe properly for how aroused he was.

Maybe you could feel the growing erection underneath of you, maybe you couldn't, but he’d stopped caring about being embarrassed around you about three hours ago when he’d had to tell you all about the time he’d once dropped a condom in Coach’s class in front of the entire classroom, and you’d laughed so much your face had gone red and you’d hidden it form him by pressing into his shoulder.

You were something he felt like he was dreaming up, like any moment now he’d wake up in a small puddle of his own drool with his face pressed into the desk of his lecture hall, the lights turned out and another note left by his kind professor to get more sleep at home, and to lock up when he left, before you were giggling a little at him, pulling away and stealing a few more pecks as you did, and he wondered if you really could read his mind, heat flushing his cheeks.

“Are you reading my mind or something?”

He felt stupid even as he mumbled te words, especially when it only seemed to heighten your entertainment, but you shook your head. “I can’t read your mind, I can just kinda’ sense your mood, I guess. It’s the connection, you were clearly thinking something funny, and I don’t know what it was, but I got a sudden rush of amusement.”

“That’s pretty fucking incredible.” He whispered, letting you peck his mouth a few more times, simply sitting there with puckered lips as he tried not to smile too much, before he was tucking hair away behind your ears and finally you were opening your eyes, and at this point, he really should learn to stop being surprised by new developments with you. “Holy shit, your eyes are glowing!”

“So are yours.” You winked, the bright purple being a shade that was so captivating and beautiful on you that he couldn’t look away, even when you leaned away from him to grab his phone, raising it up to snap a picture for him, and forcing his gaze down to it. Much like you’d said, his eyes were beginning to hint in with a faint purple, the neon shading beginning to drip into his irises and take over from the usual golden-brown that resided there. “You never made out with another witch before?”

He pinched at your ass for your cheeky comment, taking his phone and throwing it away to the side, grinning when you yelped at his painless attack. “I didn’t even know witches really existed before today. Besides, what makes you think I'm one? I had a spark once, but as I said, that died out. Nothing truly magical.”

“I don’t know, you’re having a pretty strong connection with me right now, aren’t you?” Your arms looped around his neck, snuggling in a little closer to him, and he bit back a groan as you shuffled in his lap. “I think you’re underestimating yourself, you just don’t know how to tap into your magic, you have to believe in it to see it.”

“You really think so?”

He was vulnerable and he knew it showed, he’d gone his entire life being unsure as to where all his energy and twitching came from, as to why he’d always felt a draw to the earth; the preserve and the woods, and justice and balance, and why he’d somehow fit into a supernatural world with far more elegance and ease than he ever had the normal one, and maybe this was the explanation. “I really do, Stiles.”

“Will you teach me?”

“I would love to.” He pressed a kiss to your jaw, and then to the spot below your ear, before flicking his tongue out a little to drag over the sensitive patch that lay there, before moving down your neck. He didn’t want to mark you without your consent, he wasn’t sure what was going to come of all of this and where it would go, but he was more than happy to lick and bite lightly at your skin, finding the sweet spot that made your hips roll down into his own and a sound of need and desperation to leave you that was like music to his ears, before his hips were bucking up to meet you once again.

“Y’know when you said that you could feel what I was feeling?”

“Uh-huh?” You were distracted, your reply seeming somewhat faded and distant, and he chuckled lightly, before making his way back up to your mouth now that you’d both had a chance to catch your breaths once again.

“Does that mean everything?”

“Are you asking if I know just how much you want to fuck me right now? Because yes, I do know.” He choked a little on his breath, your hand in his hair pulling his head back so that you could meet his gaze, your lower lip held between you teeth, flesh going a darker pink, and he longed to be the one biting that lip for you. “Trust me, the sentiment is returned.”

“It is?”

“Oh, yeah.” He wasn’t used to women being so confident with wanting him, being so unashamed of it, or of even wanting him at all. Most of his hook-ups had been slightly drunk make-outs and sloppy grinding, or booty calls and meetings in closets at parties. He got more action than he ever did in high school, he’d finally grown into his limbs and his looks, but that didn’t take away the surprise that still happened every time someone as pretty as you even offered him the time of day.

“Like, right here? Right now?”

“Been thinking about how much I want to ride you on my couch for like an hour and a half, now.” Stiles couldn’t stop the moan that bubbled up in his throat, lips parting as you ran a finger over his swollen lips, a cheeky glint flashing over purple eyes as you looked at him.

“You might just be perfect for me.”

“I like the sound of that.”

A toothy smile was offered to you, before he was pulling you back in towards him, hands slipping down to lay resting on your thighs as soon as your lips had found his once again. The heat seemed to have passed, and while the kiss was still completely intoxicating, there was something a little more tender about it, too. It wasn’t nearly as rushed and frantic, the sloppy kisses you’d shared as you learned one another’s ticks had passed, and as your lips worked slowly with his own, Stiles found that he much preferred this kind of kiss.

This was the kind of kiss that he could picture himself sharing with you in many settings. A sleepy, early morning kiss, when you were still between the land of consciousness and the realm of unconsciousness. Or, late nights, when he’d fall asleep while studying, and he would let you drag him to his feet and to bed. Or, simply when he would finish a lecture, or get you coffee, or meet you for dinner. The point was, Stiles already knew he wanted to kiss you at all times of the day, and to hold onto you, and to watch you brew little spells at the stove while holding onto you from behind.

Your lips were wet when you pulled away, eyes sparkling as you looked at him, a bright shade of royal purple, like silk and rich violet on flower petals, and you looked utterly ethereal. “Do you have any idea just how beautiful you are?”

“You’re sweet-talking me.” You teased, bumping the tip of your nose against his, and he shook his head.

“No, I’m not, I’m just being honest with you. I’ve been into you for a long time, even if I didn’t quite have my mind in the right place to actually say it.” You huffed out a little laugh, your eyes averting from his own so that you could try and hide your bashful little expression, but he didn’t miss it.

“Well, I’ve been admiring you a little, too. I should’ve had my deliveries sent to you sooner, if I knew it was going to end like this.” As if to punctuate your words, you rolled your hips down into his, reminding him of the solid erection pressing into his jeans, his fingers digging a little firmer into your skin, and he pushed your shirt up higher, the soft cotton of your panties revealed to him.

“These are just fucking sinful. Do you normally wander around your house in underwear and band-tees?” He tugged at it a little, before daring to tuck his hand underneath the fabric, trailing up, and a poorly-concealed groan left him as he found no further obstructions, fingers closing over one of your breasts, squeezing lightly as he palmed at your chest. “Well, clearly not all of your underwear.”

“I tend to, I keep it warm in here, for all the plants.” Your back arched up into his hand, one of your own closing over his outside of your shirt, as your other held onto his shoulder, fingers leaving crescent-moon shaped marks he was sure, and the rocking of your hips into his own only seemed to increase.

“I’d love to see you in one of my flannels sometime, just like this.”

“Give me your shirt and you’ll see it sooner than you think.” You teased, his brows raising, before he was pulling his hands back just long enough to lean into you, stripping the garment off as best as he could, leaving him in a thin black t-shirt as you took the item from him. He wanted to whine out as you stood up, choosing instead to replace the pressure of your core over his with his hand instead, palming at his cock through the thick denim, and you grinned as you watched him, yet he didn’t feel the slightest bit embarrassed.

You stood before him, draping his shirt across his spread knees as he slumped further into the cushions, getting himself comfortable and popping the button on his jeans, swollen lower lip being nibbled as you played with the hem of your shirt. Your hips were swinging to the beat of the song, and then, you raised the garment up and over your head, letting it drop away to the carpet, his jaw dropping as he looked at you.

You picked up his flannel, pulling it up your arms, and leaving it open at the front, just barely covering your tits. You were an angel and also the devil, tempting him to do so many wrong things. Stretching his hands out toward you, he beckoned you back into his lap, an act you were more than happy to take as you bounded over to him, a pep on your few short steps, before you were settling back into his lap.

“Perfect.”

He let his hands find the flaps of the flannel, pulling it open wide enough to be able to admire your tits fully, letting you push your hair back away from your shoulders for his unobstructed view. Sealing one hand around your waist, he dragged you up closer, until you were almost pressed to him fully, before dipping his head down. His tongue dragged over a hardened nipple, taking the taut peak into his mouth and sucking harshly, as your hand wound into his hair. You tugged, roughly, a groan that vibrated along your entire body leaving him and making you shiver, and you made the prettiest little noises above him.

He switches sides, making sure to give the other half of your chest that same kind of attention, leaving wet marks and stinging watches along your skin that would become bright purple marks in the morning to match the colour of your eyes, and he just hoped you kept him around long enough to see them when they did become beautiful and prominent. He wanted to see his good work, he wanted to see the way he got to mark you up and leave his touch all over your body.

“Stiles..”

“I do love how you sound moaning my name, princess, but I’m not sure how much longer I can last when you're making noises like that and grinding yourself all over my cock like this.” You grinned, letting him kiss his way back up your chest and throat until he was taking your lips with his own. Your hands were moving down, tugging at his zipper as far as it would go, hid hips bucking up into his hand as he felt you drag a nail along his covered erection, breathy sounds between you both when you pulled away.

He only had to lift himself up for a moment, before you were tugging at his jeans, helping him to get them just far enough down his thighs for his boxers to be able to follow. His cock was throbbing, painfully hard and desperate for you, leaking precum along his skin, and he gave himself some form of relief. You were watching him, eyes wide as he pumped his length in one hand, the other dipping under your skirt rubbing over your core, and you bundled up your shirt for him.

“Y’know, all those times I thought about us, a quick fuck on your couch wasn’t how I had wanted our first time to be, but then again, I didn’t expect the cute chick across the hall to be a witch, wither, so..”

He used his thumb to drag your panties to the side, your sodden folds revealed to him, and he slipped two fingers into your dripping core with ease. “I’ll let you take it slow next time, I swear, but right now, I’d really like it if you’d fuck me.”

He could only nod, heart skipping a beat at the promise of another time. Your legs shifted, muscles clenching as he forced himself to take his touch away from your core and bringing his fingers up to his mouth, sucking your sweet essence from the thin digits. As you leaned over him, he was sure to line himself up, and then, you were sinking down onto him, your forehead flailing to his as your mouth fell open, his eyes rolling back in his head.

“You’re so fucking big.”

“You’re so fucking tight.” He whispered the words, a little breathless and hanging on the edge of his orgasm already, and you seemed just as close, because as you finally sank all the way down and settled into his lap again, he could feel every pulse within your walls as you hugged around him.

It took him a moment, staving off his climax so that he didn’t come just from getting to feel you like this, and you looped your arms around his neck gently to find your purchase. Your nails were scratching lightly at the hairs at the base of his neck, his flannel once again flapping around you, panties pushed to the side to let him have access to your centre, and it was deliciously filthy.

Once you were settled, you circled your hips, a test movement, pleasure spiking in both of your systems and it felt like the temperature in the room was shooting upwards. Stiles could already feel sweat beginning to bead along his skin in a thin layer, and you pressed yourself in closer to him. Each time you shifted your hips you were moving a little more, every rock of your body into his, you were pulling yourself up just a little higher to be able to drop yourself back down onto his cock, stretching and squeezing around him.

You felt like velvet, slick and warm as you sheathed around him. You were precise and deliberate, and he couldn't help the wonton sounds that were leaving you with every drop down onto his cock, before you were taking him up to see stars every time, leaving the both of you resting in the clouds. Panted breaths, a scream in the back of your throat that tried to break out each time as you gave him broken moans of his name, picking up your pace further and further each time.

Once you were stable above him, you were moving with purpose, fast and quick as you rode him, gaining more confidence each time, and he was gripping you so tightly that there would be fingerprints all over your hips in the morning. He helped you go, lifting you up each time, only to pull you back down into his lap, thrusting up with a weak effort to meet you, but feeling you go wild each time. That same energy was back, crackling with more force, surging through him like nothing he had ever felt.

Stiles was in college, he was away from home and the weight of being the Sheriff’s kid for the first time, and he had experimented. He’d gotten drunk, and high, and hungover, but this was a whole new kind of thrill; it was like lighting up with fireworks and adrenaline all at once, like creating a bond with another person, and a tingling spread throughout his entire body as your magic bonded with his own. He hadn't felt this kind of singing in his blood since the day he’d managed to finish the circle with the mountain ash back when he was only sixteen, or breaking through the wild hunt barrier at almost eighteen.

These kind of thrills were rare for him, but they’d never been this strong, and as the two of you moved as one in the most intimate way that two people could, your mouth coming up to claim his as you silenced yourself and him, growing louder and more desperate as you went, he felt that final high beginning to build.

“‘M so close, honey.” His voice had taken on that same kind of scratchy rasp that he had in the mornings before he even broke into his day, “Oh, God, keep goin’.”

He knew his words were beginning to grow slurred, and he could barely buck his hips up into you. As everything within his body began to light up, he felt like all of his muscles were going lifeless, his body going boneless, because the heat was consuming him. He couldn't hold it back, he’d been waiting for so long to feel you this way, and his lips could barely even move back against your own as he went slack-jawed, exploding within your tight heat.

The send that he was shooting over the edge, you were following right after him, crying out his name into his mouth as you kept going against him, until you couldn't clumping down into his body as you trembled, and Stiles felt as though you’d milked absolutely everything from him that he had to offer. There was a crackling along his skin from everywhere that your fingertips smoothed over, sliding down from his shoulders so that you could press your cheek to the spot instead, fanning breaths rushing over his neck as you tried to catch your breath, racing heart just like his was.

You didn’t even bother to move from him, letting him throb within your walls with each flutter you made and each shift, and if you kept it up, he was sure he’d be ready for a second round, but he wasn’t entirely sure that he had that in him. Resting his head back against the edge of the couch, he let you lift yourself up and off of him finally, your legs shaking as you stood, offering him a weak smile as he took in your through fucked out state, before taking wobbly steps away from him, and disappearing down the hall.

He heard a door close, assuming you’d gone to the bathroom, and he leaned over to the coffee table to snatch up a few tissues, to clean himself up with, before sorting himself out too. He did the bare minimum, not even bothering to do up his jeans once he had them pulled back up, but he stretched out along the length of the couch to lay down, an arm popped under his head, and a little laugh on his lips as he did.

He took a moment to glance around, not missing the way that the plants all seemed to be blooming particularly beautifully, seeming more alive than ever. As he lifted up a hand before his face, rubbing his forefinger and thumb together, a spark travelled between the tips, and he felt a little in awe just at the sight of it.

“It's pretty incredible, right?”

He startled, jumping a little, before turning to look at you and propping himself up on his elbows as you lingered in the doorway. You had changed, your hair pulled back and out of your face, missing a few odd strands and you’d buttoned up his flannel along your body, mismatched and hanging unevenly, but still adorable. You took slower steps over to him, waiting for a second as you stood beside him, before he was lifting his arms and making it clear to you that you could lay with him, a smile gracing both of your faces as you flattened yourself along him, cheek pressed over his chest as his arms wrapped around your waist.

“You like feeling your magic, then?”

He lifted his palm, holding it to yours and admiring the final dying flares he saw, as the energy began to dissipate and absorb into his body and yours fully. “I’m not used to feeling special myself. I’ve always been a behind the scenes, research, kinda’ guy. I’m not used to being one of the main players.”

“Oh, hush. You told me your story, you were most definitely a key player, Stiles.” He shrugged under you, letting you cross your arms over his chest and prop your chin on them.

“Yeah, but I never really felt that way, and now I feel like I have something to offer.”

You leaned in, brushing your lips over his jaw with a sweet kiss, and he felt like he could most definitely get used to this feeling. Can I meet them?”

“My pack?”

You nodded, seeming a little shy now, and joy raced through him at the fact that you saw enough of a future with him to want to meet his friends an get to know them, and to once again be able to be completely open and honest with everyone, never having to hide anything from anyone, and being able to let you fully and wholly into his life. It was a surprise, because the more he’d thought about his future late at night when lying alone in his bed, he was so sure he’d never be able to really settle down, because he could never let someone in on his life in every single way, but with you, that wasn’t a problem.

“I would absolutely love that.”

“Really?” You were studying him carefully, trying to ensure that he was telling the truth, and he gave you the most honey look that he possibly could, before lifting his head to meet your lips as he leaned in.

Soft and delicate, like a kiss that was shared between deep romance and longtime lovers, and he rested a hand on your cheek, holding you to him, and rolling you to the side, to sandwich you between the couch and his body Your thigh came up to rest over his legs, his palm slipping from your face to rest on your leg, drawing patterns on the skin until you pulled away to breathe, lips detaching from his as you whined a little. You stayed close, though, a soft look etched onto your features;

“I just want to meet a few more supernatural people, and get to know others who I don’t have to hide from.”

“Well, you definitely don’t have to hide from them, and you’ll love them, just as much as they’ll love you. We’re a pretty odd group, you’ll fit right in.”

“You’re right about that ‘odd bunch’ thing. I’ve never met a banshee, or a - what did you call it? - werecoyote.” That was an undeniable truth, your head coming back down to rest on his chest as he shrugged, unable to deny that you were right. “Your wolves sound nice, too. All the other wolves I’ve met have been overly territorial and closed off.”

“Well, Derek used to be like that, but we’ve pulled him around a little. He is still broody, though.” You laughed at his joke, a sound that made his heart burst open slightly and bleed with affection, all for you, as you continued to take more and more pieces of his heart with every act, and he was falling in love with you faster than he’d ever known was possible. “Don’t take notice of any of his lurking, by the way, it’s his twisted way of showing concern and care.”

“I’ll remember that, and if I ever catch him hiding behind a tree, I’ll know that it’s real friendship.”

“He does that, I’m serious, don’t underestimate him. I think my dad arrested him for stalking, once.”

“I think your dad would be who I am most scared to meet.” A fond tone in your voice, before he was pressing a kiss to your forehead, humming under his breath.

“He’ll love you the most, don’t worry.”

Silence fell between you both then, and he busied himself with tracing illegible drawings into your skin, simply enjoying feeling so close to you. It was irrationally domestic, and you were the final piece in his college life and college experience that was missing. Despite not being a wolf, he was unequivocally part of a wolf pack, and being surrounded so closely by such a tight-knit group of friends for those years had made him dependent on company and reliability, and he had been feeling so alone since leaving for college.

Scott had Malia, Lydia had rekindled things with Jordan, and even Derek had been (begrudgingly, to begin) hooked up with a deputy by his father, and they’d been on a few dates.

The last time he’d been home, he’d felt like a fifth, seventh, or was it ninth wheel, when Liam and Hayden were taken into account? He had been feeling awfully lonely lately, and he was glad to finally find someone that fit him perfectly, matching him like a glove.

“When I do introduce you to my friends, my pack, y’know, and my dad..”

You lifted your head, a little crease across your cheek from the fold in his shirt, and he rubbed the spot with his thumb gently, an attempt to remove the mark. “Yeah?”

“What should I introduce you as?”

“A witch.” You deadpanned, and he knew immediately that you’d clearly know exactly what he meant, but were playing with him, and he pouted, fixing you with a mock glare, before you were laughing to yourself over your joke, something so undeniably cute that he couldn't even pretend to be mad about it. “What do you want to introduce me as?”

Nudging your jaw a little with his, he puckered his lips, tempting you down to kiss him, and you were more than happy to press a series of sweet and short kisses to his lips. “I’d really like to formally claim you to be my girlfriend?”

He mumbled the words into your mouth, feeling your lips flick up at the edges in a smile as you gave him a kiss that was a little more firm, a little more loving and powerful, before whispering your reply; “Then we’re on the same page, because I’d like to introduce you to my coven back home as my boyfriend.”

“You have a coven?” He pulled back, a gasp of shock, and you giggled at him.

“That I do. Maybe I should tell you about them?”

“You absolutely should.” He insisted, his craving for knowledge taking over, and he couldn't have been more glad to whatever deity was watching over benevolently that he’d taken the choice to stay the first time knowledge had been offered, because it had led him to where he was now.

“It might take all night, maybe you should go and get a change of clothes. Get comfortable.”

“Is that an invitation to stay the night?” You only nodded, letting him roll you back over onto your back as he kissed at your neck. “I’ll buy you take out if you cuddle me later?”

“Cuddling and dinner? Glad I get to call you my boyfriend, now.”

“Not nearly as glad as I am to call you my girlfriend. My little witch.” His lips sealed over yours, silencing your laughs against his mouth as you teased him for the nickname, and he pinched a little at your sides. The mistletoe overhead grew a little more, a few of the berries dropping away and bouncing off of his back as the plant became bolder, just like the rest, that energy beginning to grow once again, as you got lost in each other’s touch.

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420pogpills · 3 years

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masterpost of random epic dnf moments

i find so much comfort in these posts that just contain links to loads and loads of epic clips so i wanted to make one of my favourite george&dream moments :’)... this took me several days okay.

in no particular order whatsoever

(♥♥♥) “so...dream.” “what?” “um, hello.” “hi”

(♡♡♡) “george!” “yeah?” “HEY 😁”

(♥♥♥) “that is actually george’s fish” “oh what? i will keep it safe” (bonus: giving fish back)

(♡♡♡) “you two and your inside jokes, you guys are such good friends”

(♥♥♥) “i saw an interesting donation on your stream”

(♡♡♡) “trust me. george - i’m handling it.”

(♥♥♥) “i’m not gonna be hurt if dream is next to me”

(♡♡♡) “you’re making me laugh it’s not even fair!”

(♥♥♥) “i shot you once” “no you shot me multiple times”

(♡♡♡) “oh that’s so hot”

(♥♥♥) “what you gonna do, fight me?”

(♡♡♡) “dream has my number because dream needs me sometimes”

(♥♥♥) “stop you’re hurting me” “i’m hurting you?”

(♡♡♡) “i’m very similar to george so i probably won't like it”

(♥♥♥) “i said i’m in the hot tub right now, he said ‘prove it’”

(♡♡♡) “dream stop killing me!”

(♥♥♥) “i’ve always wanted to explore my sexuality”

(♡♡♡) “this is what happens when you fall down my trap”

(♥♥♥) “i’m so used to having your attention 24/7″

(♡♡♡) “why are you so mean dream?”

(♥♥♥) “you know who reminds me of nemo? george”

(♡♡♡) “first thing’s first-” “i’m the realest”

(♥♥♥) “come hide with me”

(♡♡♡) “he looks so handsome, look at him, look at george”

(♥♥♥) “oh george” “oh dream”

(♡♡♡) “you love me?” “yes, i do”

(♥♥♥) “be careful george”

(♡♡♡) “you’re laughing at every different word i say”

(♥♥♥) “can i have the sword dream?” “say that you love me”

(♡♡♡) “just hug me george”

(♥♥♥) “i’m the mememan, my milk is delicious”

(♡♡♡) “george i’m gonna blow up - come with me”

(♥♥♥) “you couldn’t see what dream was doing”

(♡♡♡) “george is easily a top 10 mcc player”

(♥♥♥) “what would you say my weakness is?” “me”

(♡♡♡) “we were getting this computer repair guy - oh my god”

(♥♥♥) “every time you get near me you just get all red”

(♡♡♡) “you would follow me down here”

(♥♥♥) “dream is a simp for me” “yeah”

(♡♡♡) “nice dream!”

(♥♥♥) “smile - you see him everyday”

(♡♡♡) “you deserve punishment george”

(♥♥♥) “what are you doing george?” “i’m on twitter”

(♡♡♡) “george george george you look amazing george”

(♥♥♥) “you don’t have to follow me everywhere”

(♡♡♡) “get away from dream!”

(♥♥♥) “we’re in the stars”

(♡♡♡) thirdwheelboyhalo

(♥♥♥) “dream is so delightful”

(♡♡♡) “DREAM LET’S GO!”

(♥♥♥) “follow me, i’ll follow you actually - just take me”

(♡♡♡) “dream...” “i had to george, i had to”

(♥♥♥) “i trust my dream”

(♡♡♡) “you don’t brag about your looks”

(♥♥♥) “george just tell me you love me”

(♡♡♡) “someone said ‘dream do you think george is cute’?”

(♥♥♥) “kiss george” “that’s a pretty good forfeit”

(♡♡♡) “a plane ticket to dream’s house”

(♥♥♥) “okay that was pretty pog”

(♡♡♡) “i’ve been too focused on george”

(♥♥♥) little compilation

(♡♡♡) “why’d you say it like that?”

(♥♥♥) “dream’s trying to kill me, he’s killing me!”

(♡♡♡) “if you won, what would be your first date with george?”

(♥♥♥) “we do everything together”

(♡♡♡) “answer my question!”

(♥♥♥) “oh. yeah. but george too.”

(♡♡♡) “if you win, you have to kiss dream!”

(♥♥♥) “dream... i’m messing up” “oh are you still streaming?”

(♡♡♡) “be careful”

(♥♥♥) suspicious dancing

(♡♡♡) “don’t be greedy george”

(♥♥♥) just... this whole edit

(♡♡♡) “george is mine, go away”

(♥♥♥) “dreeeaaaaam i know you wanna help”

(♡♡♡) “george you’re a genius, george kiss me!”

(♥♥♥) “he was wearing like an oversized dream smile hoodie”

(♡♡♡) george compilation 10/10

(♥♥♥) “i don’t wanna hear you laugh”

(♡♡♡) “whenever dream tries to get a new speed run record he just disappears for a month”

(♥♥♥) laughing face to face

(♡♡♡) “can i have some stuff?”

(♥♥♥) “geoorrgeeee”

(♡♡♡) “he lives in your head actually rent free”

(♥♥♥) “you know quite often we just know what we’re talking about?”

(♡♡♡) “now it backfired because george knows me”

(♥♥♥) “he’s small it’s different”

(♡♡♡) “COME HERE GEORGE!”

(♥♥♥) “you can be my valentine if you want george”

(♡♡♡) “no mom no he broke up with me” (bonus: “george denied me”)

(♥♥♥) “just explain your reasoning for denying me” “you didn't mean it”

(♡♡♡) “goodnight george, goodnight gogy”

(♥♥♥) “dream just saved something from snapchat!”

(♡♡♡) “i’m breaking you out!”

(♥♥♥) “you’ll get punished george"

(♡♡♡) “guys this is like the cutest photo of george ever”

(♥♥♥) “guys i’m opening a new business” “selling george pictures?”

(♡♡♡) “don’t attack the wolf dream i’m not there to save you”

(♥♥♥) “you were like ‘you have to praise me now for 5 minutes’”

(♡♡♡) “why don’t you think i’m here?”

(♥♥♥) “we were playing geoguessr the other day”

(♡♡♡) “i am wheezing and dying and george is dying with me”

(♥♥♥) “you used to get mad at me for placing blocks beneath myself”

(♡♡♡) “you have to clip that” “no”

(♥♥♥) “c’mere”

(♡♡♡) “i almost died, water me!”

(♥♥♥) “me and george”

(♡♡♡) “i wouldn’t want to do it unless he’s here”

(♥♥♥) “me and george were literally holding hands in the hallway”

(♡♡♡) “you should get negative points if you’re an idiot”

(♥♥♥) “kiss”

(♡♡♡) “i thought you might want to confess something”

(♥♥♥) “we’ve been talking to each other for 10 hours?”

(♡♡♡) “i’m not here to disappoint you or anything”

(♥♥♥) “mimic my yawn, that means you love me you know that right?”

(♡♡♡) “i’m not helping you this round” “i need you”

(♥♥♥) “we’re literally on a boat”

(♡♡♡) “you’re so ridiculous”

(♥♥♥) “i fell asleep in a call with george”

(♡♡♡) “wow george you’re great”

(♥♥♥) “dream just went 👉🏻👉🏻”

(♡♡♡) “yessss let’s go” “wait let me pick you up!”

(♥♥♥) “dream sort this out!” “alright wait turn around”

(♡♡♡) “you have pretty privilege”

(♥♥♥) “george i have something that will cheer you up george”

(♡♡♡) “i’ve been by your side since the beginning george”

(♥♥♥) “sitting here forced to drink water, it has absolutely no flavour”

(♡♡♡) “gives back i’ll be good” “no no you won’t”

(♥♥♥) “don’t worry. i’m here george”

(♡♡♡) “dream say hi” “hi”

(♥♥♥) “so george why are you laying in bed while you’re talking to dream?”

(♡♡♡) “where did george go, george is not found”

(♥♥♥) “come over here greg i will save the day” “francis!”

(♡♡♡) “that’s not what you told me last night”

(♥♥♥) “please just swim drive the boat drive the boat”

(♡♡♡) “before i even met you, you had this ginormous impact”

(♥♥♥) “you’re not worthless george we love you”

(♡♡♡) “george is like the biggest idiot”

(♥♥♥) “alright fine i’ll play one more”

(♡♡♡) “you see george everywhere. you see what you wanna see”

(♥♥♥) “guess united kingdom because someone you love lives there”

(♡♡♡) “george don’t leave me”

(♥♥♥) “you say bolivia george?”

(♡♡♡) “why are you so feral?”

(♥♥♥) “you’re an idiot” “you’re the one who’s screaming to do it”

(♡♡♡) “”you’re so oh my god” “you’re so annoying”

(♥♥♥) “i trust you so m-so often”

(♡♡♡) “now i have you right where i want you”

(♥♥♥) “heads” “alright it was heads”

(♡♡♡) “george you’re the hottest piece of ass in dreamhunt”

(♥♥♥) “you said ‘just woke up’ and i said ‘me too, in sync bby’”

(♡♡♡) “dnf arc? yeah maybe”

(♥♥♥) *george shooting dnf into wall on csgo*

(♡♡♡) “george and dream’s brotherly relationship is so iconic”

(♥♥♥) “you can’t 👹LEAVE👹 it’s not allowed”

(♡♡♡) “oh we’re finishing each other’s sentences right now”

(♥♥♥) “you said you were gonna what, kiss me or something like that?”

(♡♡♡) “do you have a song that makes you think of dream?”

(♥♥♥) “here george take this take this george”

(♡♡♡) “hey dream” “hey george”

(♥♥♥) “do you have a crush on dream?” “yes, go on”

(♡♡♡) “i am proud of you” “wow thank you dream”

(♥♥♥) “1 dollar every hour” “for how many hours?”

(♡♡♡) “i clicked skip whoops - wait, where are all my balls?”

(♥♥♥) “get out of here GET OUUUUTTTT”

(♡♡♡) “i’m sleeping for at least 8 hours” “but then we’re gonna be out of sync again”

(♥♥♥) “this is actually disgusting, come to me where are you”

(♡♡♡) “thank you baby... oh no” “WHAT?”

(♥♥♥) “yeah i love dream so much”

(♡♡♡) “yes that is exactly what i was thinking dream”

(♥♥♥) “dream” “hi” “hello i’m streaming” “hi”

(♡♡♡) “mm poor little george”

(♥♥♥) “do you have fifty dollars?”

(♡♡♡) “please please half a heart half a heart!”

(♥♥♥) “that’s okay you wanna be near me, that’s fine”

(♡♡♡) “you would know all about the simp handbook wouldn’t you”

(♥♥♥) “please i need you” “i do need you”

(♡♡♡) “kill him!...or her.. or it..”

(♥♥♥) “cause he’s little gogy”

(♡♡♡) “do your parents know about gream?”

(♥♥♥) just... cuteness

(♡♡♡) “wait george my minecraft’s starting my minecraft’s starting”

(♥♥♥) “te amo sueno”

(♡♡♡) “yeah that was my idea” “yeah just like last night”

(♥♥♥) “you can just say he’s a bottom”

(♡♡♡) this entire video

(♥♥♥) “why are you leaving me?” “alright fine”

(♡♡♡) “george you look good in a suit”

(♥♥♥) “i have a present for george!”

(♡♡♡) “why don’t you want to facetime me?” “i haven’t shaved”

(♥♥♥) “dream’s killing me, why are you killing me?”

(♡♡♡) “george i thought you were going to choose me”

(♥♥♥) “you wanna watch a beautiful sunset? just for you dream”

(♡♡♡) “we don’t text that much” “we text everyday”

(♥♥♥) “georgie poooo come here”

(♡♡♡) “oh beat me dream beat me”

(♥♥♥) “you are so impressive dream”

(♡♡♡) “i just ran for like a million hours”

(♥♥♥) “mydic--kslong has subscribed, thank you..”

(♡♡♡) all of these moments are too funny

(♥♥♥) “dreeaaaam! loooook!” “oh he’s cute”

(♡♡♡) “oh george~” “this is scary”

(♥♥♥) “george do that water drop sound”

(♡♡♡) “why is everyone saying ‘george explain the text?’”

(♥♥♥) “why are you saying it like that?” “that’s how you said it”

(♡♡♡) “i’m going to my secret stash”

(♥♥♥) “it said ‘name a dessert’” “you should’ve put me”

(♡♡♡) “i need to come” “you wanna come?”

(♥♥♥) “i have missed your face!”

(♡♡♡) just.. this entire video

(♥♥♥) more on george sleep talking

(♡♡♡) “that’s the same height difference between me and you george”

(♥♥♥) “you’re doing extremely well george. just calm down.”

(♡♡♡) “george~” “stOP. stop it”

(♥♥♥) “i know dream loves me a lot but unfortunately i don’t love him back”

(♡♡♡) “it’s fun to make him more afraid”

(♥♥♥) “someone said ‘dream do you think george is cute?’”

(♡♡♡) “oh we know george we know how hot you are”

(♥♥♥) “dream has friendship hacks”

(♡♡♡) “let’s watch a movie” feat. sapnap

(♥♥♥) “the only man i’m into is george”

(♡♡♡) “you broke my heart dream by....breaking my heart”

(♥♥♥) “keep lying to him george”

(♡♡♡) dream team not dnf but i love this so watch it plz

(♥♥♥) “you turn your camera off to sneeze? it’s okay we love you”

(♡♡♡) “dance with me dream”

(♥♥♥) “dweaaaam pleaseeee”

(♡♡♡) “it’s fine dream, i’ll stream another day” “waaaaaaah!”

(♥♥♥) “i just wanna talk to you”

(♡♡♡) “you’re just like interesting in general george”

(♥♥♥) “when’s my birthday dream?”

(♡♡♡) “here these are for you 🌹”

(♥♥♥) “i love you george”

(♡♡♡) “i’ll fight you in sumo when you’re in my house”

(♥♥♥) “we’re going together aaaaah”

(♡♡♡) “guess what, i had faith in you”

(♥♥♥) “or OR.. we could... kiss?”

(♡♡♡) “i haven’t had my first kiss” “that's a lie, you kissed me”

(♥♥♥) “hey dream give me an ak.... please”

AND OF COURSE THERE ARE SO MANY MORE BUT... i cannot do this any longer therefore the rest are compilations because i cannot do this any longer

(♥♥♥) every time george has said ‘i love you’ (kind of) to dream

(♡♡♡) dreamnotfound moments

(♥♥♥) gaymest moments

(♡♡♡) rare moments

(♥♥♥) wholesome

(♡♡♡) idiot compilation

(♥♥♥) love languages compilation

BONUS: this soulmate compilation...

SO ORIGINAL POST - links wouldn’t work when reblogged because it went over link limit with everyone tagged, so i will reblog with everyone who’s clips i’ve included!

#georgenotfound #dream #dreamwastaken #dreamnotfound #dnf #dream smp #mcyt

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footballxposts · 3 years

Text

Assumptions - Mason Mount

Prompt: Doing a TikTok live with them.

Recommended listening: Time After Time by Jessica Mauboy (Spotify).

Warnings: v. long, some swearing but mainly fluffy as hell that’s it

_______________________________________________

assumption

/əˈsʌm(p)ʃ(ə)n/

noun

a thing that is accepted as true or as certain to happen, without proof.

Sat at the island in your kitchen, you gently brushed your hair swivelling around on a red painted stool, patiently awaiting your followers to join your TikTok live. One by one they started watching, reaching a thousand then two thousand in quick succession. Your account had grown quite well within a short number of months and you had accumulated quite a large following on the app, though you knew it was mainly due to the fact you were very good friends with Chelsea’s midfielder Mason Mount and made videos with him on the regular.

You hadn’t been friends from childhood as such, but you had known each other throughout secondary school, and when you decided to move to London, you reconnected and ended up living together.

You greeted your viewers and began reading out a few questions in the comments before showing them your new additions to your wardrobe from your most recent clothing haul.

‘Where’s Money Mase?’ one comment read.

‘We want to see Masonnnn!’ another appeared on the screen of your phone.

“Guys Mase is in his room I think I’m not too sure.” You replied. “He might not be actually, I think he could be gone out at the moment. I’ll see if I can find him and if he’ll come on for a bit in a short while I promise.” You told them.

After about twenty minutes to a half an hour of showing them your latest purchases, you eventually gave in to the comments pleading with you to find your friend in your large home.

“Okay, okay guys. I’ll go see if I can find Mase now.” You laughed, turning the chair and standing up whilst you grabbed your phone. “I actually don’t know where he is I’m not joking. I think he’s playing PlayStation in the cinema room.” You quietly made your way down the hall, your voice echoing as the ceilings were quite high and there was very minimal furniture.

You opened the cinema room door and peered your head in whilst flipping the camera to show your viewers if he was there or not, but alas he was nowhere to be found.

“Okay I’m guessing he’s in his room since he’s not there so let’s have a look.” you announced making your way upstairs. Knocking on the wooden door of Mason’s room, you heard a ‘yo whatsup, come in’ sounding from inside. You opened the door widely and a cheery male figure in the darkness turned to face you, a gaming headset on his head.

“Found him guys!” You laughed jumping on his bed. A comment read ‘omggg imagine being on Mason Mount’s bed ahhhh!” Mason scrunched his face and furrowed his eyebrows, questioning who you were talking about him to.

“Sorry I’m on live on TikTok and my followers are sick of seeing my face, they want to see yours and chat to you.” You shook your head jokingly.

“Ahhh.” Mason grinned now being in the loop of what was happening that evening. “That’s understandable though my face is much nicer to look at to be fair.” He laughed, earning him a pillow to the face that you had just thrown. Everyone in the chat of live was now spamming with laughing emojis.

“Cheeky fucker.” You rolled your eyes and mumbled so that you wouldn’t get banned but still made it loud enough for both Mason and your viewers to hear. “So do you wanna come on live with me for a bit or are you happy gaming there?” You asked. Mase respected you a lot for always making sure to get consent of him before posting things that he was involved in and making sure he was comfortable before asking him to join you on your lives etc.

“I’ll just finish up this game and then I’ll join you if that’s okay?” He pointed to the screen.

“Of course.” You nodded, allowing him to continue. “So there you go guys the Mason Mount will be joining us in a bit.” You revealed to the live, your viewers count now reaching over five thousand. You decided to sit on the edge of the bed beside Mason’s gaming setup, watching him play his game of Fifa.

“Come here.” He motioned for you to sit on his lap. You sat on his thighs, the light illuminating your face. You already knew for a fact the comments would be making assumptions about you and Mason being in a relationship again despite only being friends.

‘A little too close for comfort Y/N?’ one comment read, another saying ‘I knew it. Just confirm you’re together guys, we support you’. You read them out to Mase and you both erupted into laughter.

After finishing his game, he turned off his PlayStation and you both headed back down to kitchen as you agreed you were both a little hungry. You both sat at the counter-top eating cereal and joking about.

“Should we play a game or something. Like truth or dare but my followers get to choose what we do or assumptions or something?” You asked.

“Sure.” Mason smiled, Cheerios and milk now spewing out of his mouth, hitting you in the face. He burst out laughing at your jaw dropping. You turned to the camera to show everyone the mess he had made on your pyjamas.

“Oh..my..god Mase! Are you being serious right now?” You squealed, giving him a small punch to the arm. He was now tearing up with all the laughter. You were dead set on giving him the silent treatment, but between his puppy dog eyes begging you for forgiveness and you giggling now yourself, you couldn’t stay mad at him. You wiped yourself with some paper towels and began reading some assumption comments.

“Mason you are better at Fifa than Declan Rice?” You read out. Mason clenched his teeth and turned his head sideways.

“Oof that’s a tough one. Uhm, nah you know what? I’m gonna back myself on this one and say yeah I am better than him. Sorry Dec if you see this!” Mason answered. You nodded, reassuring him he’d made the right choice.

“Yes! Confidence! We love to see it.” You joked. “Okay next one, Y/N it’s true that you’ve seen Mason nake-” you began cutting yourself off so that you didn’t have to read the end of it. “Oops don’t think I’ll be reading that one out.” You laughed.

Mason looked at the phone placed against the cereal box then back at you. “Yeah she has, plenty of times.” He said quite nonchalantly whilst winking. Once again, your jaw dropped.

“No I have not!” You facepalmed yourself, giggling.

“Okay no she hasn’t but she definitely wants to.” He argued. He just didn’t know when to shut up did he? Though in his defence, he wasn’t exactly wrong.

“Mase!” You sighed smiling at him.

After answering quite a number of football based questions and assumptions, you decided to read out the final two, yawning in the process.

“Okay guys last two. First one is…okay you can answer this one Mase!” You spoke. “You and Y/N fight a lot.”

Mason started laughing once again, smirking at you. “Yeah we fight all the time, she’s a bitch! She’s so annoying honestly.” He teased, nudging you with his elbow. “Nah we don’t, we actually don’t fight at all to be honest. She’s a good egg. Like, she’s everything you could ask a person to be, so there’s very little to even argue over with her. And even if we did, I’d still chose her over and over time after time, cause you don’t get a lot of people like her in this lifetime.” He answered.

Your heart nearly burst with his words. He was so cute, and such a loving person. You could have sworn you were finding yourself falling for him when you both made eye contact after he had said that. Shedding a few tears you heard him ask if you were crying which made him start to wind you up you even further. You gave him a quick ‘shut up’ before continuing to the last assumption.

Mason read it quite lowly, squinting at the screen to make sure he read it right. “You and Y/N aren’t in a relationship you’re just best friends and housemates but you definitely want to be more than that. That’s one for you Miss Y/L/N.”

You froze. You didn’t know how to answer that and you were sure he didn’t either so you were confused as to why he read it out.

“Uhhm.” You chuckled, looking at him. With both elbows now resting on the counter-top, he was now twirling his lip with his fingers, gazing at you. “I don’t really know what to say to that to be honest.” The comments were going crazy with people saying things like ‘they’re definitely in love you can see it in the way they look at each other.’

You took a depth breath still smiling at him. “Well, I mean..I can only speak on my own behalf because I don’t know how you feel about that statement but, yeah you’re one of my best friend’s, you’re very attractive, you make me laugh more than anyone else and if the opportunity presented itself to be more than friends, I think..” you trailed off, unsure if what you were about to say was okay.

“Go on.” He said beaming back at you.

“I don’t know!” You laughed flapping your arms like a toddler accidentally slapping his side. “I think I’d probably take it but obviously it’s a two way street and it would only work if both of us were on board. But that’s just hypothetical anyways.” You shyed away.

“Would you actually? Do you actually fancy me as more than a friend?” He practically whispered. You shrugged your shoulders biting your lip.

“Oh my god, I’m in love with you you idiot.” He stated. Your eyes widened. “I’d definitely take the chance to be more than friends with you.” You couldn’t form any words, so you just sat there taken aback, mouth wide open in the shape of an ‘O’.

“Seriously?” You asked softly.

“Yeah..” he smiled. Reaching over to the button to end the live, he told you to say goodbye quickly so you did, telling your followers you’d speak to them soon. As soon as the live ended, he gave you a quick ‘come here’, a hand placed on your thigh, gripping it whilst the other cupped the side of your face, as he pressed his lips against yours. And in that moment, you finally realised what people meant by feeling a spark and finding your soulmate, little did you know it would be so close to home.

_______________________________________________

A/N: I can’t remember who asked for this one but I hope you like it anyways pretty 🧚🏻‍♀️ Also am sorry it’s so long lmao I could write rubbish for hours 💫

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mrpenguinpants · 3 years

Text

Genshin: University AU [V1]

I love modern au. Or any “everything is fine, no one died, it’s just a fever dream” au. Half of me is thinking, damn maybe I should answer this serious- LOL HAHA no. That’s not happening. Time to crack my knuckles and let my brainworms take over again.

Once again, this is 90% crack 10% content. I want to switch up my characters from the last brainworm post but I included Kaeya and Diluc.

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Today’s appreciation post goes to twistedwishes. Hey! I’ve been seeing you pop up a lot lately and thanks for the support 💕💕 I hope things are going better for you and you’re doing alright^^ I feel kinda bad for making appreciation posts on crack fics but hopefully this is somewhat funny haha.

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Genshin: Holding Hands [V1]

Genshin: When you’re cold [V1]

Genshin: Roommate [V1]

Genshin: Royalty AU [V1]

[Masterlist]

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[taglist] <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@mikeysbike @hanniejji@unionwitch @musekala @twistedsunnshiii @stanzastic @akaasea @xoneaboveallx @adoring-ghost @asheseiler @childelover @dilucsz @dai-tsukki-desu @thicmitten @youaskedfurret @diaxfeliz @wintergreen-aix @dandelily @thegayrubberducky @lovelykittycatmeow @yuunoagivesmelife @dokidokisama @simpygrimoire @minakohasmanyhusbandos @strwbrry-lia @tigerpriestess @yuu-yuukurotsuki

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Diluc

Absolute pretty boy who has braincells, but only if Kaeya is not there. In his mind, Kaeya’s presence makes his room loose 40% of their common sense. He can’t prove it just yet but he’s working on it. He majors in accounting but also has a minor in marketing, logistics’ management, fia- he majors everything business related. He’s going to become the next Elon Musk through smarts or by getting the competition drunk. There can be no contest if he’s the only candidate. He’s actually a hard working guy that overworks and stresses way too much. You have daily “Diluc recharge” evenings where he just hangs onto you while you go through your day.

“Don’t fucking talk to me until I’ve had my coffee,” except there is no coffee - he drinks grape juice out of juice boxes and his only energy boost is when he meets up with you - and that’s his constant mood. So he usually only hangs around you and Jean, since she has childhood friend status and is actually an angel. By default, Lisa is added and Diluc doesn’t mind her but if he see’s Kaeya, it’s full on war paint mode. If he's not busy with work or studies, he's usually with you either in your dorm or his apartment.

He has a fanclub and he seriously hates it and tries to do everything in his power to get Ningguang to take it down. Shouldn’t this be against his rights? But she refuses for whatever reason and makes a whole speech about free will. No matter what he does, someone manages to take a picture and it get’s printed in the university’s newspaper. The only bonding time he has with Kaeya is every Monday, where they collect and burn all the universities newspapers before anyone can get their hands on it. You always bring marshmallows to make smores during their arson activities.

“When I graduate I’m going to burn this school down to the ground. That’s not a threat it’s a promise.”

Ningguang

Is secretly the leader of the Diluc fanclub - not that she likes Diluc, she’s in a questionable platonic poly marriage with you and Beidou - but it was the easiest way to gain funds for the student council. Which she is the president of, so rip Diluc the fanclub stays. Ruthless business woman I tell you. But she can run in heels so her danger factor rises by at least 20%.

Majors in social sciences and law but more specifically the political science & government. She saw the Imperial State Crown that the Queen of England wears and says yes, that’s mine now. If she’s not with Beidou and you planning on “how to infiltrate the state government just for lols”, then she’s with Keqing, Ganyu, and Zhongli discussing student council things. Should they or should they not tell the student body that they can see everyone’s search results? Sit back and relax as the school goes into chaos.

She’s probably the scariest person on campus No, she is the scariest person on campus. She’s the scariest person on campus. But secretly she’s popping 20 aspirins just to make it through a night. She has the digestive system of steel. She still holds the title of "seriously do not try and beat her in a drinking game it's never going to happen" and that's her proudest achievement in life but sadly she can’t put it on her resume. Kaeya is still trying to beat her out of spite but so far it hasn't been working. You’re seriously concerned for her when she get’s challenged but Beidou gives you a way-to-hard slap on the back and cheers her on. If Ninngguang somehow get’s alcohol poisonings she’ll somehow find away to make a profit out of it.

"I'll let him die, I'll get the insurance money."

Kaeya

One day he chugged too much mouth wash, passed out, and somehow woke up in university majoring in law. His idea is that if he is apart of the law, he can therefore stand above it. To be fair, his only goal in life is to say “I am the manager” and he can go live the rest of his life in bliss or as a hermit. He’s secret best friends with you but wouldn't be caught dead beside you. He will stab a bitch if you ever get hurt but will still trip you on the way home. Seriously, you have no idea why people find him attractive. Your guess is it’s the eye patch or the clap of his ass cheeks that keeps alerting everyone.

He’s apart of the newspaper club and if anyone asks: No, he has no idea who keeps taking all the newspapers and burns them in the back of the campus. Originally, he joined because he was nosy and needed to join some type of club for his resume. He sometimes feels bad for his junior assistant Amber because he keeps tricking her and says that Diluc is secretly a demon that is trying to steal all the jobs and is apart of the lizard government hell bent on eradicating the human race. He even brought out a whiteboard for this joke, he’s dedicated to his job ok?

The type of guy to try and be humble and say his work is “okay” but will choke a bitch if anyone agrees. He tends to leave everything last minute and says that it’s his drug since actual drugs could land you one year in prison and a maximum penalty of $2,000. You have to awkwardly hold in your concerned mother head shake when you see him speed running his assignment literally right when the professor is walking around to check if students finished.

“I was taught how to lead not to read.”

Mona

Broke wallet #2. Zhongli is broke wallet #1 but Childe simps for him so is he really a broke wallet at this point? In this essay, I Mona Megistus, will explain why I have the rights to the title “Broke Wallet #1″...

Believes that astrology should be an actual career path but refuses to take astronomy as her major. I can read the stars not a textbook that tells me how to calculate the mass of the sun divided by the fucks I give. Instead she went into Philosophy and cries to Albedo, who is an actual prodigy genius- sir lend some braincells to everyone else please?, that her professor keep turning her paper down because “star reading” is not an academic source.

Fischl wants her to join the occult club because, surprisingly, Mona is very good at telling people’s fates through her crayon sketch ouija board. She thinks first year Fischl is cute but is put off by the cosplay roleplay that she has going on. She would join except that stupid hat wearing gremlin in her lit class would make fun of her if he found out.

You gave her half your lunch one day and bought her a doughnut "because she seemed upset" and "out of the goodness of your heart" whatever the hell that means. She thinks you pensioned it but once that thought comes she takes a bite. Poison from a doughnut is not the worst way to go out, classes are hard enough. She’s waiting for the lord to strike her down anyways.

“Its not about passing, its about doing better than everyone else.”

Venti

Slept through most of highschool and people question how he got into university. He’s a music major (wow how fucking original is that), and if anyone asks him to serenade someone or just do anything, he’ll do it for the right price. Or if you buy him alcohol because he still keeps getting ID checked. He’s banking on Kaeya actually becoming a lawyer or being on good terms with Diluc so he can finally stop being arrested for looking like a toddler.

Takes one step into classes and quickly nopes out and goes back to bed. Professors have no idea how he hasn't dropped out or failed. He just has some god given talent. He does whine at you to pretty pretty please with a cherry on top tutor him because you're such an angel and would never leave your poor but awesome best friend hanging right? He needs to get this essay down but how he is suppose to explain how the number 10 is symbolic and connects to the universe or the meaning of life. Do you think he can just say it’s apart of his culture and make up some random myth to pretend it looks like he knows what he’s doing?

He’s honestly going with the flow and put his brain on the back burner all of highschool and only now realizes wait, I actually have to use my brain?

He’s been banned from most club chats since Venti has the no chill card. Someone says “lol I look ugly today.” and he’ll respond "yup, you look like a cow." and he get’s banned. Zhongli keeps a speed run timer on his phone just to document these occasions.

"Sad spelled backwards is das and das how it be sometimes."

Childe

An actual dumbass that somehow does well. He eats sandwiches with the crust off, this heathen. Surprisingly he’s studying to become a physical therapist but most of his experience has come from breaking his own bones. You’re scared how he's going to be if he actually becomes a therapist. If he'll make bets with his patients or try to one up whatever crazy injury they get into. Everything is a challenge to him that sometimes the best way to deal with Childe is to knock him out.

This man really knows the way to a Zhongli’s woman's heart. Through micro transactions. Mona saw him accidently drop $20 and just shrugged and walked off. She has never been both spiritually and physically offended in her life. She did take the $20 though. As much as you hate leeching on Chile when he’s basically a walking wallet that probably uses bills as tissue paper, you can’t help but give him puppy eyes while planning on how to get into his will. If he even plans on having one, he might honestly write “whoever wins in a gladiator style duel in my funeral’s tournament, they will get my fortune.”.

Any sport the university offers Childe is probably in it. Which is how he met Zhongli, challenged him to a fight, proceeded to have his ass handed to him, got a backhanded compliment, and screamed to you he was in love and how he found his soulmate. He's secretly very sappy and has cried and watched every Disney and Pixar movie at least 28 times.

"IM NOT TOO SPICY! I’M A TINY BIT ABOVE MILD IF ANYTHING!”

---

God if it isn’t Scaramouche, it’s Childe that ruins the aesthetic. This is why I hate you. Why do you people enable me like this, it isn’t even good. This is pretty much a @ yourself moment and I vibe hard with Venti. This entire post was just to make a joke about the clap of Kaeya’s ass cheeks alerting the guards.

This week might slow down since I have classes and assignments. My reply’s are gonna be late too, sorry;; (oh and thank you to everyone that was so supportive and nice when I mentioned it. All of you. Beautiful 💕💕 )

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

Text

The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 15

Hannibal gives y/n an idea and y/n negotiates.

@viviace @deadman-inc-bikeshop @dovahdokren

Trigger warnings: graphic descriptions of violence

Aftercare was Hannibal's favorite part of the evening. He loved to spend long, indulgent hours pampering his darlings. But usually, there was only one. And that was Will. And Hannibal's clawfoot bathtub, although beautiful, was not big enough for both of you at the same time. Meaning, you had to take turns.

You and Will argued back and forth about who was in more desperate need of aftercare; each advocating for the other, of course. That was Hannibal's fault, really. He should have known better than to ask you to make a decision.

Hannibal emerged from the bathroom, sleeves rolled up and arms soaked to the elbow. "Who is first?"

Before you could speak, Will shoved you forward. "She is."

Hannibal knew better than to let the argument go on, and so did you. You followed him into the bathroom, the smell of lavender bath salts filling the air.

He removed your fluffy robe and watched you step into the warm bath. The water was just hot enough to soothe the aches in your muscles. Hannibal took his seat at the end of the tub where you rested your head. You leaned back and submerged your whole body.

“You have such soft hair.” Hannibal said, pouring a bit of expensive-smelling shampoo in his palm.

“Thanks, I use fabric softener and tumble dry it on low heat.” You answered.

“You have a hard time accepting compliments, don’t you?” He probed, beginning to lather the shampoo into your hair. “Between that and the self-deprecation, I’d say you suffer from low self-esteem.”

You felt yourself melting into him. The hypnotic motions of his hands chipped away at your defenses. “Is that really that surprising?”

“For such an intelligent, sophisticated young beauty?” Hannibal chuckled. “I am surprised you don’t understand your worth.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” You offered. “The fact that a psychotic cokehead fundamentalist Christian cult leader wants me dead tells me I’m doing something right.”

“You are a force of nature, my indulgence.” Hannibal assured you, still massaging your head. “But you don’t need me to tell you that. You already know your power.”

That got you thinking. Would it be so bad to just find a hunting rifle and blow Chase Mulvaney’s head off? What was stopping you? It certainly wasn’t your conscious. All your remaining moral fiber had been ripped to shreds over the course of the last month.

“Tell me something about yourself, Hannibal.” You said, leaning back.

“What would you like to know?” He asked, retracting his hands. He cupped his hands in the water and poured some over your hair.

“Do you ever think about morality?” You said, bluntly.

The question pleasantly surprised him. “Quite a bit, actually. I like to think of myself as a student of philosophy, which deals heavily with the subject of ethics, human behavior, and yes, morality.”

“Do you believe morality is subjective?” you tilted your head.

“There’s not a doubt in my mind about it.” Hannibal smiled. “Those who think otherwise usually exemplify some of the best arguments for subjective morality.”

“Religious nuts like Chase Mulvaney.” You said. “He and millions of others believe in objective morality, but can’t even keep it consistent among themselves.”

“Darling,” Hannibal whispered. “You don’t have to wait for aftercare to talk philosophy with me. I would be happy to do so anytime.”

You spent a half hour in the bath, Hannibal stroking, kissing and cuddling you. As much as you wanted to enjoy the affection, your mind was elsewhere. Perhaps it was just a hyperfixation, or post-multiple-orgasm clarity, but the only thought in your head was that Chase Mulvaney had to die.

Your train of thought was chugging along smoothly until it was derailed by the violent buzzing of your phone against the tile floor. You leaned over the side of the tub, trying to make out the contact name from across the room.

Hannibal dried his hands on a nearby towel and picked the phone up from the ground.

“Who is it?” You asked.

“This number is logged into your phone as just a picture of a...red demon?” Hannibal answered.

“Oh, yeah.” You dropped your head. “I’ll call her back, just let it ring out.”

“Who’s the demon?” Hannibal chuckled.

You stepped out of the bathtub and reached for a towel. “Just somebody I know from work. Probably calling about covering a shift or something.”

“Would that be the same person who believed I was the devil?” Hannibal raised an eyebrow, watching you wrap the towel around yourself.

You were about to say yes, but caught yourself. “No. Just some lady I work with who always refused to share her tips with the buses. Super entitled, total pain in the ass. I’ve been looking for an excuse to tell her off.”

“Well, we can’t keep you from that, now can we.” Hannibal cupped your cheek in his hand and looked at your face admiringly. “There should be a clean nightgown for you on the bed. Please tell Will I’ll be ready for him in a couple minutes.”

“Wow, you really did think of everything.” You rocked back on your heels and swung to your tip toes to give him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll let him know.”

He kissed you back. “Thank you, my indulgence.”

“Just one more thing.” You stopped in the threshold. “Could I please use your computer?”

“I don’t see why not.” Hannibal looked up from the quickly draining tub. “By all means, what’s mine is yours.”

You smiled and blew him a kiss before absconding into the bedroom.

The nightgown he’d laid out for you had far more ruffles and lace than you’d consider appropriate for sleepwear, but it was comfortable and fit you well.

You passed the message along to Will, but hurriedly. You were in a rush to be alone. You had some business to attend to.

You sat at Hannibal's desk, turned on his lamp and logged into your google drive on his computer. While you waited for the content to fully load, you scrolled through your contacts. When you found the demon, you pressed the green dial button.

It didn't take her long to pick up. "[F/N]! Finally, I've been trying to call you all night."

"Yeah, I know." You rolled your eyes. "Some of us have lives to live. Not that you'd know anything about that."

"No need to be snippy." She scolded. "I have an offer for you."

"If it doesn't involve a portion of ad revenue, I'm not interested." You shook your head. "I'm not settling for a flat fee while you make the real money off my experience. My goddamn trauma."

"Sounds like we woke up and chose bitchy today." She teased. "You're not even going to hear me out?"

"Freddie," you began, pulling up a document on the computer. "I happen to have a four-page, comprehensive statement of what happened that night right here. Half of it was cut out for the FBI report."

You could practically hear Freddie drooling already. "And?"

"I won't accept anything under $1200 for it." You finished. "Or 30% of all ad revenue on this article."

"That's not fair." She protested. "Best I can do is $750."

"You made ten times that off my first article." You leaned back in the chair. "Don't try to lowball me, Lounds, I can do this all night."

"Since when were you the assertive type?" She asked, deflecting the conversation.

"Remember when you told me my fifteen minutes of fame was running out and you were my only option to get my story out there?" You recalled.

"At the time, I was right." Freddie contested.

"That was before Chase went from a cokehead to a domestic terrorist." You said. "Now I actually can take it to a more reputable outlet."

"But here you are anyway." She said. "Extorting a small, woman-owned independent news site just for the hell of it. I've got bills to pay, y'know."

"With gaslighting like that, I'm sure they're astronomical." You rolled your eyes. Sighing, you propped your knees against the desk. "Look, I don't hate you, Freddie."

"I don't hate you either." She agreed. "I thought trashing each other was just our mutual love language."

"The only reason I'm considering TattleCrime at all is you." You admitted. "You're loud and unapologetic and it makes people listen to you. I need someone who can take the heat."

"Because you know that mainstream news outlets are going to cut your writing down to maintain the status quo." Freddie finished your thought.

You pursed your lips. "Exactly. You're the only one who's got the cajones to run the whole story."

"I'm flattered." She said, then paused. "If I move some things around, I can probably get you $1000."

You opened a new tab and typed some words into the search bar. You scrolled through the results, leaving Freddie without an answer.

"Hello?" She said. "[F/N]? Did I lose you?"

"How soon can you pay?" You asked.

Your phone buzzed. You had a notification from paypal. A thousand dollars from Fredrica Lounds.

"Right fucking now." She answered.

"You've got yourself a deal." You said, firmly. You typed out Freddie's email address and pushed send. "It's all yours."

#hannibal lecter #hannibal x reader #hannibal nbc #hannibal x you #will graham x you #hannibal x will #hannibal x you x will #hannibal x reader x will #will graham x reader #will graham #the sommelier #hannigram #hannigram x you #hannigram x reader #aftercare #fluff #freddie lounds

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kaistarus · 3 years

Text

One Bed Mix-Up

Pairing: NishinoyaXReader

Words:2.5K

Summary: Nishinoya insists he’s the world’s greatest traveler, so you decide to visit him during your spring break vacation. But due to his inability to speak foreign languages Nishinoya messes up and gets you both a room with only one bed…

A/N: How could I not find a way to write the fanfic classic with my favorite boi? The fact that even took me this long?? I’m ashamed… Seriously tho I love this fic so much lmao

Masterlist

This could not be real.

You examined the room that had been essentially what Nishinoya explained-on the small side, but an open concept that made it more than comfortable. However, you immediately froze because where you were expecting some sort of living space was instead just one bed shoved against the wall. A detail that had been conveniently left out of his description.

You side-eyed Nishinoya’s amused smile with a glare.

“You did this on purpose,” you accused.

“I swear I didn’t,” he snorted, tossing his bag onto the bed nonchalantly. “Well, it’s possible I accidentally did, but it wasn’t on purpo-”

“What do you mean you ‘accidentally’ did this?”

“I’m not very good at Italian, okay?” Nishinoya threw his hands up. “I called last minute and there were so many words,” he crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at the bed. “I guess ‘full’ meant bed size and not a room ‘full’ of beds, huh?”

“I feel like numbers would’ve been a better indicator,” you mumbled, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“In hindsight, probably, but here we are.” He fell back onto the bed. “I’d go to talk to them, but it’s late and I don’t think I know enough to haggle.”

“This sucks,” you groaned, placing your bag beside him on the bed. He grinned up at you seeming unbothered by your circumstance.

“It could be worse. We could have no room at all,” he shrugged, digging through his own duffel for night supplies. “I did that once in Thailand because I tried to last minute find a place but couldn’t. Now that sucked.”

You raised your eyebrow at how casually he spoke about the situation, and he just ruffled your hair before heading toward the bathroom. Your stare lingered on the bathroom’s door before flickering toward the bed, narrowing your eyes at it and giving it a petty kick. This was a worst case scenario you had never planned for when you agreed to this trip with Nishinoya.

When you casually mentioned you were thinking about taking an actual vacation for your last spring break Nishinoya jumped on it. He eagerly told you how his travel expertise made him the best guide and after several years he could make it the cheapest trip possible. You were a little skeptical at first, but you had saved enough for a round-trip to Italy and he swore he’d pay for the majority of your food when you got there. It was the best deal you’d get.

The only problem was even after over three years of not seeing him your heart still did acrobatics when he wrapped his arms around you at the airport.

You glared at the bed that the universe had planted for your demise and huffed, grabbing Nishinoya’s bag and dropping it on the floor before climbing atop the plush mattress. His words continued to echo throughout the small room as he rambled from the bathroom, but you paid little attention as you dug through your suitcase for your own nighttime supplies.

“Does that sound like a good plan?”

You glanced over and tensed, quickly snapping your eyes back to your suitcase. Nishinoya had poked his head out of the bathroom with his hair now plastered down on his forehead which had always been your kryptonite. You cursed yourself, rubbing a fist over where your heart pounded against ribcage.

It hadn’t even been six hours since he picked you up from the airport and you were already freaking out. How were you supposed to handle the next two weeks?

“Are you even listening?” He pouted, then pointing his toothbrush to his duffel bag. “Why is my stuff on the ground?”

“‘Cause you’re sleeping on the floor.”

He was silent for a half a minute before asking with genuine confusion, “why am I sleeping on the floor?”

“Did you actually think we were sharing the bed?” You looked at his puzzled expression in disbelief. “It’s barely big enough for one of us.”

“I guess… you’re right.” He avoided your eyes and you swore his cheeks tinted pink, but he turned away and threw a thumb inside the bathroom to signal you could get ready. You left him grabbing stuff off the bed and tossing them onto the floor as you walked away with supplies cradled in your arms.

Once finished you stretched your arms high above your head while exiting the bathroom. You cocked your head to the side as you took in Nishinoya lying on the hardwood, one arm tucked under a pillow and a flimsy blanket thrown haphazardly across him as he scrolled through his phone. The sight sent an ounce of guilt coursing through you as you crawled on the bed, wondering why he left the comforter regardless of the already uneven circumstances.

He mumbled goodnight before crawling across the room to flicker off the lights and you shrunk into yourself at the lopsided grin he sent you. As you wiggled under the warmth of the comforter you grimaced at the cold that filled the room outside your cocoon. Was Nishinoya freezing on the floor?

You frowned, turning toward the window that took up a large portion of the wall beside you. The moonlight crept in and illuminated the room in a soft glow that allowed for vision despite the hour. You closed your eyes, listening to Nishinoya’s uneven breathing which informed you that he was far from sleep-not surprising given his uncomfortable position. You groaned internally as butterflies tickled your stomach like you were back in high school.

It wouldn’t be fair to force him to be miserable because you still harbored immature feelings. You slung your arm over your eyes, taking a calming breath before crawling toward the edge of the bed and peeking your eyes at him. His already open amber eyes flickered to meet yours and after several moments of contact a wicked grin spread on his lips.

“You better not move around in your sleep,” you grumbled, shuffling over as far as you could without falling off.

“No promises,” he laughed, pulling the comforter back and wasting no time wiggling underneath. Your cheeks warmed as he adjusted his pillow, shoulder pressing firmly against your back.

He could at least pretend to be uncomfortable with the situation.

Unlike him, it hadn’t taken you long to regret everything. You spent every second he’d been there counting the bricks in front of you hoping that if you bored yourself to sleep you wouldn’t keep having a heart attack everytime Nishinoya adjusted his position.

“Can you stop freaking out?” Nishinoya asked annoyedly, you felt him roll to face your back. “You're making it hard for me to sleep.

“I’m not freaking out,” you scoffed, tightening your grip on the comforter.

“You haven’t relaxed since I got up here.” He poked your side and you jumped obnoxiously, helping prove his point further. You furrowed your brow frustratedly and pulled the comforter higher up your face.

“You’re looking too deep into nothing,” you lied. “I couldn’t care less that you’re here, Noya.”

You realized that came out meaner than you intended as the room filled with silence. You opened your mouth to correct it, but it slammed shut when you felt his forehead rest gently between your shoulder blades.

“Liar,” he said slyly.

You didn’t know how to respond because you were lying, but you didn’t think Nishinoya would ever call you on it. You sighed, glancing over your shoulder before mustering the courage to shuffle around and face his crooked grin.

“You’re making this more difficult than it has to be.” You deadpanned.

“Well, you’re acting like it’s torture.”

You rolled your eyes, but internally you wanted to scream that it practically was torture. He had no clue how long you had liked him and apparently, despite all logic, still did.

Nishinoya poked your fist that laid between you both. “I’m really glad you came,” he said, barely above a whisper.

“Me too,” you whispered. It was bizarre how much he’d changed, yet felt exactly the same. A little taller, less baby faced, but still the exact same sense of humor and goofy smile-even keeping his signature hairstyle.

You furrowed your brow, staring at the blonde strip of hair that rested on his forehead. You used to think it was dyed until seeing pictures of him post-high school, doubting his upkeep abilities without his sisters’.

Perhaps it was the late hour or the soft smile that rested on his lips, but you were filled with an usual bout of courage as you slowly lifted your hand to run your fingers through the strands laying on his forehead. His eyes widened at the contact, but he did nothing to stop you-even leaning down to give easier reach.

“I missed you,” he confessed under the cover of night and your fingers faltered.

You frowned when you met his eyes filled with sudden adoration. “Is this a scheme, Noya?”

He blinked, taken aback. “A what?”

“Like, invite me to Italy and then uh-oh one bed? How did that happen? Now I’m gonna smooth talk you while we’re in bed. ” You rolled your eyes pulling your hand back.

“I swear I’m not smart enough to come up with all of that.” He said, grabbing your hand and placing it back on his head. “I would never rely on my ability to smooth talk.”

You narrowed your eyes, “I guess that’s true.”

“I’m way better than I was in high school.” He nodded proudly, which honestly wasn’t saying much. “I mean, if we were still in high school I wouldn’t be able to handle being in this room. Especially because I was, like, in love with you.”

Time froze as those words left his mouth. Your mouth hung open as you tried to process them and when he waved his hand in front of your face you sat up, pointing an accusatory finger down at him.

“What the hell do you mean you used to like me?”

“Uh,” he pushed your hand away. “I had a crush on you? It was pretty obvious. Everyone knew about it.”

“I didn’t know about it.” You stared down at your own hands in disbelief. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He looked up thoughtfully, “well, the last crush I had was in love with my best friend, so I wasn’t on a great streak.”

“That’s a stupid reason,” you frowned, poking his chest angrily. “I’m not Kiyoko. You had no idea what would’ve happened if-”

“Why are you so mad?” He grabbed your hand and held it tightly. “This was like four years ago.”

“Well, it was just… I sort of liked you too so that would’ve-.” You felt your face heat up as Nishinoya’s grip on your hand tightened and he shot up, as well.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Wha-you liked Kiyoko,” you poked his forehead with your freehand and he clasped that one as well. “After she started dating Tanaka you were all ‘I’m gonna travel the world’. The timing never felt right.”

“That’s stupid!”

“It makes more sense than, ‘I was on a losing streak’.”

“No, because I just figured there was no point in trying!”

“Well, I assumed you were leaving forever and didn’t want to be dead weight that-”

You were cut off by Nishinoya pulling you down to press your lips together. Your eyes widened at the sudden contact, staring at his squeezed shut eyes as you stiffly wondered what you were supposed to do. Definitely not having your eyes open like a creep, and kissing back would be a good idea too.

Just as you started getting yourself together Nishinoya pulled back with a concerned crease to his brow.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just… Was that okay?” He tilted his head, loosening his hold on your hands. You were too flustered to form a proper sentence and he took your silence as a bad sign. Panicked and without a plan you pulled your hands from his grasp to cradle his cheeks.

His eyes flickered down your lips and he leaned close; eyes drifting closed while he rubbed his nose lazily against your own, waiting for you to close the gap. The room’s silence felt deafening as you leaned the few inches forward to press your lips gently against Nishinoya’s. You felt the corners of his lips quirk upwards briefly before he wrapped his arms around your midsection to pull you closer against his chest.

Your heart reacted faster than the rest of you, leaping around your chest uncontrollably as you tried to focus on everything else: tangling your hands in his hair, matching the oddly skilled pace he managed to set, and remaining calm when he pulled you both back onto the bed. As the kiss’ languid pace grew in intensity you pulled back, catching your breath and he watched you lovingly, pressing his forehead against yours and rubbing his thumb against your cheek.

“You should visit more often,” he said with a dopey smile.

“Yeah, with all that money I have,” you deadpanned.

He pouted, wrapping his arms around your midsection to hold you impossibly closer while nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck, “well, I should visit you more.”

“With all the money you have?” You snorted, running your fingers through his hair. He groaned against your neck, sending a vibration down your spine. Then he pulled back, his face lit up with some revelation as he smashed your cheeks together.

“You can just travel with me after you graduate,” he laughed elatedly.

You blinked once. Twice. “That’s a pretty bold suggestion.”

“You didn’t say no.”

Your cheeks warmed and a dopey smile forced its way onto your lips, “I didn’t say no…”

Another breathtaking smile covered his face and he pulled you back to his chest,nuzzling his cheek against the top of your head. “I can live with that.”

You rolled your eyes, but revelled in the warmth that filled your chest as you gripped the fabric of his t-shirt. You couldn’t believe it took all these years to work through your feelings, simultaneously with someone like Nishinoya this was probably the only way it would happen. And even if nothing came of this in the end you were more than satisfied to have these next few weeks with him.

You snuggled against him, closing your eyes with a content smile resting on your lips. Just lying with him like this? It would be more than enough.

Tags: @nathalie707

#nishinoya yuu #nishinoya yu #nishinoya yu x reader #nishinoya x reader #nishinoya imagine #nishinoya yū #nishinoya yuu x reader #nishinoya x y/n #nishinoya yu scenarios #nishinoya x you #nishinoya #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyu x reader #noya x reader #yu nishinoya

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plethora-of-imagines · 3 years

Text

Multitasking

AN: I’m not fully happy with this one. The idea was good, but its not really edited and I’m not too fond of the ending. But continuing to try and rewrite it isn’t getting me anywhere so I am going to post it for now. Maybe in the future I will come back and fix it.

Word Count: 1412

Warnings: smut/lemon, telepathy, cockwarming

Description: DW Kinktober Day 3; Prompt: Telepathy

You just wanted to have some attention, and the Master needs to finish his sums.

Tag List: @c-s-stars @queerconfusionthings @how-masterful @truthbehindthemysteries

Shifting uncomfortably on the Master’s lap you tried to distract yourself from the situation you had put yourself into. Unfortunately, there was no one to blame but yourself for your predicament. As much as you wanted to blame the Master, he hadn’t done anything wrong. He had told you when this started that he had work to do and there would be little attention paid to you. That really it would be a much better idea for you to just relax and entertain yourself somewhere else. Or to even go grab a book to read while you joined him if you really wanted to stay. You had been so certain that the appeal of you settled in his lap, warm and full of his cock would be enough to distract him from his work. It had yet to work. It had been ages already! It felt like he had been working on his sums for hours. How could he resist you ready to be fucked in his lap and continue to work with not even a little teasing? He hadn’t even bounced his leg or pressed a kiss to the side of your face.

Pouting you tried to enjoy the sensation of being so full and filled by the Master. Without him moving it was feeling more like agony. You were used to cockwarming but not for this long, not without him continuing to actively keep you aroused. You wanted nothing more that for him to move, even just to shift his weight. Anything would be a relief at this point. You wanted your thoughts and body to be filled with only him. Trying to be patient for so long was starting to take it’s toll on you.

Yet you didn’t mutter a word of complaint. He had warned you that he was busy, it was your own fault for thinking you could change that. It had been your idea to beg him to let you cockwarm as he worked, hoping to derail his progress with a quick fuck. You had assumed he would give into temptation after half an hour at most. You had just wanted some attention, to be close to him. Clearly, your plan hadn’t quite worked out for you. So you tried to stay still, to behave. Because he was busy, and you didn’t want to disturb him when you had promised not to.

Almost as if he had been reading your mind, the Master shifted slightly so that his head could rest on your shoulder. Pressing a quick kiss to your throat before you feel an ache in your head. Like the very beginnings of a headache that you knew was coming on. Slowly the pain faded, leaving you with the strange sensation of your mind being cradled in warmth. Even after having experienced the sensations hundreds of times you were still not used to the Master being inside of your head.

"Hmmm someone's getting a bit impatient. You alright, love? Got somewhere to be?"

His teasing echoed in your mind, like your own thoughts but scattered. His mental laughter didn't help you to process his thoughts any easier. The laughter was quiet, almost as if he was trying to keep it from reaching your mind. The issue with that was that no matter how much he tried to shield his stream of consciousness away, your mind reached to pull him in with just as much force.

“I can be patient,” you shot back at him mentally. Your own inner thoughts betrayed you with a soft admission, “or at least I’m trying.”

Fond amusement washed over you. How adorable it was that you were trying to play pretend when your body was now rocking side to side. Aiming to gain as much stimulation as you could from shifting your weight.

Shaking your head you tried to get the Master’s thoughts out of your head. It was instinctual, your mind not wanting to accept that someone else’s thoughts were intruding upon where your own stream of consciousness should be reigning. It truth you wanted to know every thought the Master had, especially when they were about you. The moment you felt the semi-rough texture of the Master’s hands caressing your thighs you lost all semblance of thought.

So close to where you needed to feel him, yet teasingly far away. You blissfully accepted every touch. Trembling when his fingers finally brushed over your clit. His cock twitching in pleasure simultaneously. Oh, sometimes you forgot that he could feel what you felt when he did this. Clearly, he knew that the build up had made for the most wonderful of pleasures when he finally relieved you of your anticipation. Again and again he repeated his teasing motions.

Stopping abruptly in his pattern right before he would brush over your clit he stole your full attention.

“I have to get this work done. Be a good girl and be patient again?” He projected into your mind.

“Please,” you whispered into the silent room.

You found your hand wrapped around the pen the Master had been using before his hands found their way to your waist. Slowly, you could feel the emptiness left as the Master lifted you off of his cock. Mind filled with your thoughts mourning the loss, until you rapidly found yourself filled again. Being yanked back down with a force that made you cry out in pleasure. This, this is what you had been patiently waiting for.

“I don’t know if you can really count what you were doing as patient. Love. Your thoughts had been screaming that you wanted attention. They made it even harder to concentrate than the feeling of your warm, tight cunt around my cock.”

You moaned wildly as his words entered your head, bringing with them echoes of memories of how he had struggled to keep him mind focused.

“Write down 62 for me would you, love.”

Startling you out of your mental haze you tried to focus on the mathematics the Master was now filling your thoughts with. Each lift and drop of your body as he made you ride his cock clearing your head again. You could barely understand the numbers, nervermind write them down. Yet somehow you managed.

“Next we need to solve for E equals,” interrupting his thought you reminded him that it was really him who was solving these impossible difficult mathematic computations. It was kind of him to mentally include you, but you both knew the truth was that you were his glorified secretary.

“And what a beautiful secretary you are, now where were we?”

“Solving for E=mc cubed, Master,” you mentally reminded him.

“Such a good girl, remembering your lesion on the extra temporal physics of the time vortex!”

Your mind seemed to heat up as if your brain itself was blushing. It wasn’t possible yet somehow that it what it felt like. Or maybe the sensation stemmed from the Master resting one of his hands against your very flushed cheeks. The heat he was feeling transferring into your own thoughts as a literal feeling of heat.

You hands shook as overtime your arousal grew, building up until you felt ready to fall apart. It was a struggle to write down any of the numbers you could pick out of the Master’s head. How did he manage to do both solve mathematic equations and fuck you? You were getting distracted just trying to write down some numbers! You hated the fact that he could multitask so well.

A pleasure shot through you before the mental connection was broken. You could feel the Master’s release shooting into you. It felt heavenly, something you had grown to love more and more each time you felt it. It was then that you noticed. Your arousal hadn’t subsided at all, your little orgasm had been a reflection of the Master’s. Your body was still humming with need. You whined pathetically, it wasn’t fair. You could feel the Master’s cock softening inside of you.

“What happened to my patient good girl?”

“This is so rude, Master. I want to cum so bad and now I’ll have to wait, again.”

“Good things cum to those who wait.”

“Don’t pun at me,” you laughed, annoyed that you couldn’t manage to stay upset with him.

Besides you knew what you were getting into when you interrupted his sums. Honestly, as long as you got to spend time with him you were content.

#dwkinktober21 #kinktober 2021 #the master x reader #dhawan!master x reader #prompt: telepathy

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bonny-kookoo · 4 years

Text

Good Girl [J.JK x Reader]🔞🌼

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, a lil angst

Warnings: dom/sub dynamics, dom!jungkook, sub!Reader, size kink, oral (f & m rec.), mild dd/lg themes, praise kink, cumplay, reader is a virgin, jungkook is lowkey a hoe, a lil heartbreak, Taehyung makes an appearance, long haired jungkook, mentions of harrassment, jungkook punches a guy, strength kink

Jeon Jungkook was known to have a specific type when it came to his partners; tall, gorgeous, dominant and older. It's not like he's a true blood baby boy; he's just too lazy to put any effort into his flings. When a new girl answers to his ad online searching for a roommate for his apartment to share rent and space however, he didn't quite expect such an innocent being to turn up at his doorstep with a box full of pastel colored belongings, ready to move in. And what he definitely didn't expect was his growing interest in her and the feeling of having her under him, all submissive and ready to be ruined.

Good Girl || Sweet Girl || Smart Girl || Brave Girl || Pretty Girl || Charming Girl || Enticing Girl || Bad Girl || ???

A wink was all he got from the woman who'd occupied his bed together with him last night as she walked out his bedroom door, seemingly knowing how to get out of his apartment. Jungkook ran his hand through his still sweaty hair, groaning after stretching his arms above his head, his mood seemingly sunkissed. He just finished an almost three hour sex-session after all; all without him providing any actual effort. His dick had seemed to be enough for her anyways, her face when she rode him happy, although he could really care less.

Reaching for his laptop near his bed, he didn't bother to put on any clothes for now, just wanting to check if he'd gotten any new E-Mails or messages, clicking through the casual nudes that constantly seemed to slip into his postbox. He cocked his head to the side however when he noticed that a website has notified him of an answer to his ad online; he'd put it up some time ago now after Taehyung, his former roommate, had to move out simply because Jungkook himself couldn't survive the older one's sleep shedule. Tae seemed to never sleep, waking the younger one up on a daily (and nightly) basis. He really tried to get along with him, both of them sharing a deep friendship, but god no, as a roommate he couldn't stand that guy. His rent however was something he struggled as well, so as much as he really wanted to live alone, he couldn't. He clicked the message on the website, his interest peaked.

"Hello. Is this AD still up to date? My name is Y/N, and I'm searching for a place because I'm starting to work close by soon, and its too expensive to take the bus for hours on end every day.. so uh, I don't know? I'm really good at cooking, and I promise I'll be so quiet and organized you won't even notice I'm there! I work at a restaurant nearby as a waitress- I mean, I'm going to, haha. Ugh, I hope you're okay sharing your apartment with a girl as well, I for my part don't have a problem with that! So, I guess, I'll wait for your reply?

Have a nice day!"

He scoffed a little, hovering over the delete button, but instead, he clicked her profile icon, opening the details. Her profile picture showed a white big dog, being hugged by what he assumed was her. He couldn't see her face however, half of her face above her nose cropped out to fit the entire dog instead. He could spot her clothes however; a top and skirt, flat shoes and sheer tights with white spots on them. His brows furrowed, how old was she? Her profile said she was about a year younger than him, every post she'd made up to this date about pet stuff, clothes who all seemed to follow a pastel-color scheme, and artwork you seemed to be selling. You were basically the definition of cute.

Fan-fucking-tastic. Hopefully you wouldn't be too upset when he denied your request, but somehow he thought it over. You said you could cook and you did seem like an organized person. Knowing what kind of effect he could have on people, he could probably scare the shit out of you and keep you around without really having to interact much; and rent was also due this month, so the sooner he found a roommate the better. "Fuck it." He said, and began to type his reply.

When his doorbell rang, he almost burned his hand with the hot water he currently used to make himself a cup of ramen, cursing loudly. Who the fuck wasn't home again so he had to take their package in? One day the old lady across the hall would find a dead rat or something in front of her door, he swore to himself. Ripping the door open with so much force he could feel a bit of wind gushing by, his eyes widened when he saw a similar face in front of him- well, a little below actually. He remembered your lips instantly for some awkward reason, having tried to maybe paint a picture of what you looked like entirely over the last few days. He would've never expected something like this however- you looked like a literal doll in his opinion, your eyes wide open and mouth a little parted, shiny lipgloss making him swallow. Wait, did he really forget that you said you wanted to move in today?!

"I uh.. I'm- I'm Y/N, we- I- the ad..?" You said, your voice sounding nothing like the woman he usually was around. He smirked a little, moving so you could step inside, food now definitely forgotten on the kitchen counter. He really should've at least cleaned up a little he thought. Whatever.

"Yeah, figured. There you go, thats your room. The keys and shit are on the matress, make sure you don't loose 'em." He simply said, before leaving you alone in your new home to settle down.

"What I'm trying to say is, Y/N, you and I, this could really be something!" Taehyung slurred into your ear, loud enough for Jungkook to hear. For some reason it pissed him off to no ends how close the older one seemed to be, constantly hitting on you like he was a starving man, even know half of town knew very well that he wasn't. He could see why; you were innocent, and Tae known to fool around a lot. You were a challenge, something new for him, and he would lie if he said that he wasn't interested as well. Oh he was; but he also had at least some manners left inside of him, contrary to popular belief not only thinking with his dick. Taehyung however was only out for fun, making Jungkook question if he should really let this continue.

He decided no.

"Alright you fucking whore, it's bedtime isn't it? I'll call you a cab." Taehyung groaned at the younger one's words, nodded his head however before looking at you with a smirk.

"Ah, what a shame. But if you wanna have some fun you know my number!" He said, as if he didn't just offer you sex. You blushed at this, not answering, making Jungkook watch you a bit. You really were something else. "Jungkookie, you're so nicee... If I was gay I would definitely suck your dick-" The younger in question made a disgusted yet amused face, putting a hand over the blue haired one's mouth.

"Yeah yeah, you pay me back though you fucker." He said, before going into the kitchen to make the call. Taehyung, being left alone with you again started with his questioning, as he had done the entire night.

"So, Y/N.." He said, dragging out the last syllable of your name playfully, making you shuffle around where you were sitting a bit. He certainly was a pretty attractive guy, but he also seemed to be very straightforward- something you always had struggled with, being more on the shy side. You looked at him, silently urging him to continue before taking a sip of your own beer- cherry flavored, simply because the regular was too bitter in your opinion. "What kind of toys do you use, heh?" He questioned, and you coughed suddenly. Taehyung laughed loudly at that, cooing when you calmed down slowly.

"Taehyung, stop harassing my roommate you fucking idiot. I need her to pay half of the rent-" He said, before sitting down next to you, raising one of his eyebrows at you. "And she also makes some killer lasagna. Kinda wanna keep that." He said, before laughing a bit. Even though Jungkook seemed to be pretty intimidating to you, he was actually a pretty good guy to have around. You both barely ever fought, and overall you could almost see yourself falling for him too- he had the looks after all. But his habit of bringing people over just to satisfy himself was something that made you keep some distance between you both. He wasn't someone to settle down- let alone with someone like you. You were pretty much the exact opposite of what he seemed to like.

Sending Tae home was easier than you both thought. Not being able to go to bed you both decided to watch some late night shows while casually talking- something that wasn't uncommon between you two. Just when you seemed to have gotten comfortable again, Jungkook couldn't help but tease you again.

"So, what Toys do you use, heh?" He said, laughing with his head thrown back afterwards at your red face. This would certainly never get old in his opinion. Just as he was about to apologize and tell you you didn't have to answer, your voice was heard, however.

"None." You said, and his eyes widened at that. "What? Do I look like I do these things to you?" You asked, and he cocked his head to the side a bit, scanning you obviously. He shrugged, and you began to pout, moving to wrap your pastel pink blanket around yourself. "I don't even know how to buy one. That stuff is just.. don't know. Gross." You said, and Jungkook turned on the couch, body facing you now, his interest sparked.

"Gross? So you never had sex before?" He said, and you went silent. Were you serious right now? You were an angel in his eyes, body proportions almost perfect, hell, even your slight imperfections were adorable in his eyes. Up until now he had been sure that you at least have had your fair share of experience, but a virgin? His world was suddenly turned upside down. "Well.. that's something I didn't expect." He said, making you raise your eyebrows at him. "You're hot. Thats why. Oh well." He said, missing the way your eyes widened at that. "I'm gonna go to bed now. Goodnight." He simply said, and you answered with a short 'goodnight' as well- still a bit surprised by his statement. Jungkook thought.. you were attractive?

He'd somehow gotten used to you, how you would leave your pastel pink but admittedly really soft blanket in a pile on one edge of the couch in the living room, how you sometimes left your toothbrush in the sink when you'd been in a hurry, or how you would hum to a song, not knowing he could hear you very clearly. Maybe he really did go soft after living with you for a while. He still didn't know himself why he got so upset with Taehyung the day prior; was he really being selfish? He was protecting you, nothing more. Taehyung was everything but a gentle lover, jungkook just knew he'd break you for sure, not to mention that you already stated how much you despised one night stands, which were practically Taehyungs speciality. He was just looking after you, nothing more.

The more he thought about it however, the more problematic the entire plan became.

But even now, while the young woman whose name he had already forgotten was giving it her all sucking his dick, all that seemed to swim around in his head were the events of the previous evening; how innocent and embarrassed you looked at him when you told him you'd never bought, let alone use a toy before. Surely you'd be someone to enjoy a good vibrator he thought, maybe as a gag he could buy you one? Oh how enchanting you'd look, spread out on his mattress while he would edge you over and over until you'd be crying, begging for his mercy. He would praise you for taking it so well, for being so good for him and only him, and he just knew you would blush. Instead of rushing to his own satisfaction, he would go slow, agonizingly slow, just to see how far he could push you. He would feast on you like a predator on his prey, pull you close so you had no chance of escaping him, he would trace every curve of your skin, gently, as if to make up for the bruises and Mark's he would surely leave all over you to feed his inner need to claim you, even though he would never let anyone see you like this while he was alive and breathing anyways. He just knew you would fit perfectly underneath him, his body covering you and shielding you away from the world around. Would you be able to take all of him? He probably would have to stretch you real good before even thinking about pushing his dick inside you, yet he just knows you would somehow make him proud and take it all, and he would continue his praises, telling you what a good girl you are.

He almost laughed at the situation, he really was in deep, wasn't he? Frustrated and confused he started to picture someone else entirely kneeled between his legs on the floor, how you'd bat your eyelashes at him like the fucking angel you were instead of the girl currently there, and that thought alone gave him the final push to shoot his load down the strangers throat, who moaned obscenely at the feeling. Usually he would be aroused, ready for more, but the sound of someone who wasn't his little roommate ripped him out of his daydream. This couldn't go on like that. Sending the lady out without many words, he decided that he just needed to fuck you, and all would be good again. He was just curious. Nothing else. He just needed to satiate his hunger and he could go back to normal.

How would he be able to do this without ending up hurting you? No matter how big his hunger for you was, he also considered you somewhat of a friend. He remembered when you came home crying one time after a bad day at work, and how he wanted to hold you, shielding you from any harm, making you feel safe. Because that's what he, and only he could do in his opinion. No matter what, he'd protect you, as weird as that sounded. Shit.

He really had a crush on you.

Unknowing to him you always held your hands over your ears whenever he brought home a different girl, not being able to listen to his moans mixed with someone else's. You were slowly beginning to regret moving in, already starting to think about maybe searching for a different apartment. But the rent was cheap, your room big, and his company relaxing when he wasn't busy being buried in someone he couldn't even remember after a day or two. Somehow tears were leaking out of your eyes, and you took your hands down from the sides of your head to wipe them away, careful to be as silent as possible as to not alert him that you were awake, well aware of the shower turning on. You did notice however how his sessions became shorter and shorter, always seeming to end sudden instead of usual. But the more you thought of it, the more angry at yourself for falling for this manwhore you became. You really should hate him- but you couldn't.

Tonight was definetely the prime example of why you didn't go into clubs. The sheer amount of people around you, the smell of sweat and cheap cologne and perfume all around made you feel like a headache was inevitable. Why were you here again? Oh yes. You followed Taehyungs advice and 'tried to make friends' instad of looming around your apartment all day. But right now you just really wished you stayed home instead of going here.

Sure, you liked your coworkers, and they seemed nice and everything, but if you were being honest, they're definition of fun was entirely not yours. You began to feel cramped up in the large club, making you desperately pull your phone out of your pocket, texting Jungkook in hopes he could save you from this god forsaken torment they called a club.

Minutes later, after Jungkook oh so gentlemanly told you to pick you up, you stood in front of that said location, waiting for his cheap but admittedly nice car to pull up. Sadly, someone else seemed to be way more intent on bringing you home- a young man your age, attractive, yes, but also heavily intoxicated. He had already eyed you up inside the building you noticed, yet hadn't made a move towards you. Now however, he seemed more determined than ever.

"Lets go home baby, I swear you won't regret-" He started, but you moved away from him, clenching onto your little handbag in order to at least keep your belongings safe if he tried anything else. Suddenly both your figures were drowned in the warm light of Jungkook's car lights- you immediately recognized them simply by the fact that one was brighter than the other, something you always told him, yet he always waved you off, telling you that both were doing just fine, even though his left light was clearly almost dead. Typical him, you thought. Yet right now, you couldn't be happier to see him.

He however, did not seem happy at all. His face was serious, his wavy hair hanging a little over his eyes, steps fast and strong enough that you could hear his black boots almost crush the slight gravel of the parking lot. "Fuck off sunnyboy and go back inside." He simply yelled out, having already seen how uncomfortable you were with the stranger so close to you. Jungkook wasn't someone to blindly punch someone, that said however, he couldn't contain himself once he saw the guy reaching out for your arm, your figure instinctively scrambling to get behind Jungkooks way larger body. He didn't even notice his fist connecting with the strangers face, simply leading you by the small of your back inside his car, driving home without any more words.

You were not to be touched by someone so dirty like this young man who didn't even knew his own limits it seemed.

Yet you were completely confused now. Maybe, if you were now the reason he got into physical fights, you should make a decision.

The next morning, sitting down at the kitchen table, you watched Jungkook filling your bowl with cereal as well- lucky charms for you, and chocolate chips for him. It became somewhat of a routine since you both woke up roughly around the same time, sharing breakfast was common. The best moment in your opinion to pop the bomb.

"I'm moving out." You said softly, fiddling with your fingers in your lap, leg nervously bouncing up and down. Why did this feel like you were breaking up with him? You both would've ended up going separate ways sooner or later anyways- so he would probably just nod, ask when, and that would be it. He was someone who didn't bother much. But the second you said it, he turned around completely shocked, suddenly very much awake.

"Why? Did I do something?" He asked, sounding genuinely offended for some reason you couldn't come up with. In his mind, scenario over scenario started to play, as if he wanted to search for something he may have said or done to make you so upset that you didn't want to live with him anymore. He knew he shouldn't be so upset over it, since you and him were merely roommates, friends who shared an apartment, nothing more, but he never really expected you to come up with it so sudden. Or maybe you had a boyfriend? What if it was Taehyung, and you just didn't tell him? He would rip that fucker's stupid blue hair out, he knew-

"No. I- not reall-" You sighed, setting your elbows on the kitchen table before letting your head fall into your hands. "Actually yes, you did." You started, looking at him, but unable to hold eye contact with the now completely confused curly haired boy in front of you. "You.. uh.. I cant sleep. Your, 'guests', the walls aren't really soundproof and like, I really- and just.. ugh this is so awkward, please don't make me say it-" You said, groaning the rest of your sentence before stubbornly shoving your back against the chair, throwing your legs back and forth viciously, reminding Jungkook of a kid who was close to throwing a tantrum. Even though this was definitely not the time to think about you laid out over his leg, his hand hitting your perfectly shaped butt until it was red just to punish you for being such a brat, exactly this picture began to form in the back of his head. He hated himself somehow, really. But somehow instead of accepting your decision, he moved to stand at the table, hands on top of it, eyes searching yours.

"Say it Y/N. You know I hate when I have to pull thing out your throat sweetheart." He didn't intend on using the nickname, but somehow he threw his hesitation out the window. If you really were fooling around with someone, someone who wasn't him he wanted to know- and even if you didn't share that information with him, you would move out anyways, so why hold back anymore? You shook your head at him, avoiding his gaze, and he clicked his tongue, patience slowly thinning out. "Spit it out." He said again, but he still got no reaction. His hand seemed to move without his consent when he suddenly found his fingers on your chin, moving your head to force your attention towards him. "Speak the fuck up, I swear to god." He said, voice dropping down lower, and somehow you seemed as if bewitched.

Maybe it was the way he stood there, how he still held your chin, or how intensely he looked at you, but words dropped out of your mouth as if you drank harry potters truth potion. "I cant stand that you let these girls touch you, that they can get you so easily and you just look past me a- and I really tried you know, because Taehyung said you liked mature girls more so I tried to do that, but he lied to me, you don't notice me at all, you're so mean you-" He shut your mouth with his mouth, trying to process the information he just received, yet it seemed like it was too much at once. You were.. jealous? And what kind of stupid advice was Taehyung giving away, that fucker? It was true that he liked his women to be confident and mature, but that was just so they knew what they were doing, and he didn't need to put so much effort into something he could get so easily.

"So you were jealous?" He said, a small smirk creeping up on him, cooing at you internally when you shook your head, face red. "If you wanted me to fuck you, you could've just asked. Geez." He said, but instead of being relieved, your shoulders sagged down. "What?" He asked, and you mumbled to him.

"Because I don't want just that one time stuff you do." Jungkook looked at you, eyes softening at your somehow-confession. He just put together the pieces in his head, and it did make sense. You were practically attached to him wherever he took you, always seemingly glowing whenever his attention was on you. He was as much as a dense head than you were, and he couldn't help but pull out a chair and sitting down, patting his legs as an invitation.

"Good, because I don't want that either. And I don't share either." He said, and looked at you gently, but with a deep darkness behind his eyes. "Trust me baby, you can sit down now and I promise you'll be the only one to have me- or you can move out and go on with your life." He almost laughed at the way it suddenly clicked in your head on what he was offering, suddenly jumping up and sitting on his thighs, legs on either side of his body. He looked down at you, a divine picture coming to life. His hands were placed on the exposed skin under your skirt, slowly sliding over the soft skin until his fingers felt the seam of your tights- those goddamn things he'd wanted to rip off of you so badly these past days. "You can touch me, you know?" He said lowly, and you noticed how awkward you must've looked for a second, seated on his lap with your hands in front of you, unsure where to put them. Just to ground yourself, your fingers began to play with his shirt, and he had to swallow the laugh that wanted to break free. "You don't have to do this, you know? I'm fine with waiting-" He began, but you immediately shook your head, however, at loss for words. He smiled again, dangerously so you noticed. His head dipped down, finally touching your skin on your neck with his lips, leaving open mouthed kisses under your earlobe down to the crook, hands moving over your clothes already mapping out your body in his mind, one hand pulling down one side of your soft fleece jacket you wore, pulling down your shirt as well, so he could softly nip at your shoulder, making you gasp oh so cutely at his actions. His hands didn't stop however, moving over your chest, kneading both of your breasts softly, as if he would hurt you if he used too much strength- which was probably the case. He already loved how bis his hands looked running over your body, how your hands held his shirt in fists, eyes closed, yet not because of fear; you looked serene to him, face showing him the soft pleasure you felt. He suddenly moved you a little, making you straddle one of his leg, core pushed against his thigh. "Let's start slow, yeah?" He asked, whispering words into your ear, lips never parting from you. He slowly began to move your hips, urging you to simply follow what you thought felt best to you. "Use me baby. Get off on my thigh." You whined at that, slowly starting to move more and more boldly, and he decided that he was officially a goner. Even if you didn't want him after whatever may be happening, he knew he could never go back. The way you squeezed your eyes shut every now and then, moving back and forth yet always a bit helpless, showing how inexperienced you were. He could feel the wet patch forming on his jeans, his hands moving you a bit faster, before you let your head fall onto his shoulder, making him chuckle. "What is it baby? Do you need help, hm?" He said, a bit mockingly even, and you nodded into his shoulder. "Tell me what you need then. What do you want, princess?" He said, running his hands over your back, feeling your bodyheat through your clothes.

"wanna get the same.. as the others.." You mumbled, unsure what you were even asking for. Jungkook however simply smiled, suddenly lifting you up, hands under your behind carrying you to his room, before finally letting you fall onto his mattress, laughing when your body jumped a little, making you squeak so cutely. He smiled, crawling over you, his fantasy finally coming to life- you looked so lost under him, so utterly defenseless he could swear he could feel something primal awake inside him- and that was not his dick, which already strained against his jeans, impatient.

"Ah but Baby.." He began, taking off your soft jacket before his hands traced your bare arms until he moved them under your shirt, feeling your skin underneath his fingers. "You're my special girl.." He began to lift your shirt up, helping you out of it before he got rid of your skirt as well, chuckling at your cute lacey underwear, which was so typically you. So innocent, yet so arousing, how you squirmed underneath him in nothing but those pastel colored undergarments. "And special girls get special treatments.." His words were low, soft spoken yet with a rough edge to his tone, a natural feature of his voice that you've come to love. You couldn't even begin to paint out a picture of what he was talking about- sure, you have seen your fair share of adult films, you weren't a kid after all- but up until this moment, up until you met Jungkook, you've never really thought about what you could like when it came to these things. Even in your thoughts you felt shy saying any profanities out loud, how could you expect to know about kinks? "But only if you can behave for me, but you can do that right?" He said, unhooking your bra behind your back with ease and interrupting your inner talk with yourself. "You'll be my good girl, yeah?" He said, and you just viciously nodded, already growing frustrated, and oh how he loved it. This was how he had pictured you. If he had known before that this was what it felt like to have control over someone, he would've never done anything else if he was honest; but then again, you really were a special girl to him. The way you suddenly mewled when his hand cupped your heat, giving you a little pressure just to tease you even further almost caught him off guard. God have mercy on his soul, you were so sensitive to him, and it dawned on him again that he was making you this way. He was the first to- and he would make sure he'd be the only one as well. All those noises tumbling out of between your lips were only his to hear. His breathing peaked up at the view he had, how you began to impatiently rut into his hand, needy for more than he was giving you. He leaned back, finally getting rid of his own clothes as well to your satisfaction, lazily throwing his opened flannel as well as his white shirt somewhere on the floor in his room, and you couldn't help but stare. Truth be told, you didn't really know what to expect of him if you were honest, his constant gym visits giving you the impression that he had to be extremely fit, yet his habit of consuming more than two cups of ramen easily spoke differently. He was, in your eyes, the perfect in-between- he definetely was fit, his abs visible to your eyes, yet he didn't look like those over-achievers you sometimes saw walking around the same gym whenever you met him there to go home together. The way his muscles flexed at every move when he loomed over you again made you want to touch him, yet your shy side forbade you. He chuckled again. "You can touch what's yours all you want, you know?" He said, before he began to place his hand back onto your chest, his breath hot on your collarbone where he placed his kisses again, already hooked on your taste. His other, tattooed hand found its way back to your core, feeling the dampness there with amusement. You were more than what he'd imagined. Slowly he got rid of that barrier however, leaving your tights on for his own pleasure and maybe also for the aesthetic of it, his digits circling around your sensitive bud, making you squeal again, putting your hands over your mouth to keep your voice down. He clicked his tongue at this, moving them to lay right under the small of your back. "Be good and keep them there, yeah?" He said, and you looked away.

"But its- thats emb-" You couldn't even finish the beginning of your rant before he went back to his task at hand, sitting back before moving your legs to spread obscenely over his thighs simply to catch a glimpse of your glistening center, before he placed his body over yours again, hand now roughly circling in delicious eights around your clit, making you gasp out.

"Nothing you do is embarrassing, you hear me. If anything its fucking hot how you can be so fucking adorable even with my hand between your legs, doll." He said, before dipping a finger into you, making you move a bit at the foreign feeling. "Gotta stretch you out babygirl.." He said lowly, careful not to get too fast. His second finger joined in, and he could feel how tight you were around them, already clenching a bit as well, making his mouth water, but also growing a bit of worry in the back of his mind. Usually he was quite cocky about his overly average qualities down in his pants, but now he was genuinely concerned to hurt you with it. This was definitely a first for him. "Baby you're so small.. I don't think you can take it.." He said, a bit of a teasing undertone to his words as well. "See? You're already squeezing my fingers so hard princess, how could my dick ever fit inside huh?" He said, contrary to his otherwise rough nature keeping his movements gentle and slow enough for you to adjust without causing much pain. He could see the slight discomfort in your eyes, yet you suddenly shook your head, voice whiny.

"Uh-uh.." You mumbled, and he laughed a bit at that. "can take it.." You said bratty as ever, feeding his ego to no ends. "Wanna have it- you.. you gon' give it right? 'm good.." You said, having troubles keeping your hands under your back just like he told you to, grabbing the sheets underneath you instead to have something to keep yourself grounded.

Jungkook couldn't stop smiling. You didn't even know what you were asking for, yet you seemed so drowned in trust with him, that you simply gave him the right to do anything he wanted with you. "You sure?" He said, and smiled at the way you nodded again with your eyes closed. He moved away after that, shedding his pants before he walked over to his bedside table, fishing out a condom, before moving back to you, your eyes now on him, or more than that, on his very apparent bulge his boxers failed to conceal. Maybe you really did ask for more than you could take. Quite literally. Sensing your growing uneasiness he simply discarded his underwear, cock finally springing free, slapping soundlessly against his abdomen before he sat between your legs again. You made grabby hands for the foil package in his hands, somehow wanting to slip it onto him, yet he shook his head amused. "Nuh-uh baby. I'm afraid if you touch me right now I'll just embarrass myself and come straight away." He said, and you giggled at that. The sound of it brought him back at ease, his little joke having helped to calm you down at least a little bit. He knew this was a big thing, especially for someone like you- and it made him feel even a bit pressured if he was honest. He was slow when he dipped his head inside, your body instinctively trying to move away a bit, but you forced yourself to stay still, eyes now pressed close. Moving around a bit he kept one hand around the base of himself, the other steadying himself next to your shoulder, kissing you on your lips for the first time since you both started, surprising you enough to not notice how he somehow began to glide into you with the help of your arousal and the lubricant of the condom around him. He groaned, the first actual noise he'd made you could tie to his pleasure, and your breathing picked up once you noticed how full you felt. Gasping several times he suddenly started to laugh, making you giggle as well, even though you didn't knew what was so funny in that situation. "God- ugh.. your- fuck you're tight.." He pressed out, fighting hard against his hips' own mind yelling at him to move, to wreck you, to utterly ruin you. But he couldn't allow himself to do that- reassuring himself that he would have time for that at a later date. He slowly started to move around after he calmed down enough, keeping his speed down to keep it gentle for you. "I- fuck.." He started, having to talk to stretch his patience out, and to also ease your mild pain a little bit. "Let's- ugh.. Let's go on a date tomorrow, yeah? I.. god-" He said, and you nodded, moaning in your delicate pitch he oh so loved. "Gonna be all romantic and shit- fuck- gonna treat you like- for Mcdonald's or some shit." He said, making you both laugh between gasps of pleasure, your hands suddenly frantically moving around the sheets, legs shaking as he began to speed up his pace. You didn't knew what an orgasm would feel like, or how you knew you would have one, but you gasped, chocking on unshed tears in frustration as you noticed that you couldn't tumble over that delicious edge, and Jungkook noticed, cooing at you. "Ah, my baby can't come without her little clit being touched?" He said, kissing the side of your neck, biting the skin teasingly before sucking a hickey on your collarbone, his hands now grabbing yours, fingers intertwining with his, before moving them around his neck, sensing how you wanted to be closer to him, even though that hardly seemed possible. "Come for me baby, you can do it." He said, kissing your shoulder as if to make up for his mark he'd left, his hand now reaching between your bodies, only needing to put a bit of pressure on your little nub to send you flying. You moaned out loud, uncaring on how you sounded, clinging onto him for dear life, his own release making him groan out as well.

He could feel your body trembling, your breathing still fast. He waited for a moment or two for himself to soften up so he could pull out gently- your still slightly clenching hole almost pushing his dick out of yourself. You whined at the empty feeling, and he hushed you gently, moving around so he was sitting up against his headboard, your body on his lap, head on his shoulder. His hand moved back and forth over your spine, the other keeping your body steadily against him. "You did so, so good baby." He gently whispered between your breaths still coming out a little faster than they should. "To be honest I actually was kind of worried you wouldn't be able to take it. I'm impressed princess." He said, making you giggle. You still weren't quite back yet, still bathing in your own afterglow, and he simply waited for you to calm down- slowly becoming aware of your surroundings again.

"Hey, Jungkookie.." You started with that nickname Taehyung always teased him with, yet you would get away with it anytime on his watch. He simply moved his head to look at you, even if you weren't at him. "Did you.. like, mean it? Are we.. a couple now, or?" You started a bit too softly, yet you didn't have to be scared of his answer to that.

He took a deep breath, before yawning a bit. "If you want us to be. I know I want to." He started, brushing some hair away from your eyes. You looked at him, big eyes so innocent like he didn't just fuck you into his mattress literally minutes ago.

"I want to!" You immediately said, making him chuckle and place a kiss on your nose, receiving a giggle at that, before you tensed up. He raised his eyebrows at that, before you looked at him surprised. "My legs are all- tingly.. Jungkook did you break me- HEY don't laugh!" You said, but he couldn't help himself.

He threw his head back, laughing his admittedly cute open laugh, before wrapping his arms around your body. "God I love you." He simply said, making you smile.

"Hey Jungkookie?" You said after a bit.

"Yeah Princess?" He answered.

"That McDonald's date still stands, right?" You said with a small voice, making him snort.

"Anything you want princess. Anything you want."

Taglist:

@mrcleanheichou @sugasbratz @sassysaxsolo @bananagukkie @wh3resangel @urmomgee

#jungkook #jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook imagine #bts imagine #jungkook smut #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader smut #bts smut #dom!Jungkook #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #reader insert

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yourlocalfictionalenthusiast · 3 years

Text

IN LIFE, IN DEATH...

PART SIX

:Masterlist:

Warnings: Swearing, fighting, angst (sorry <3)

A/N: this was definitely meant to be posted like a week ago but here it is! <3

---

August 1994

The florescent lights of the hospital waiting room were starting to give you a headache.

They were way too bright and flickered every so often that it made you dizzy to look at them. But you needed something to focus on to stave off boredom, so you focused your attention on the clock on the wall.

It read just after midnight and you silently cursed yourself, quickly pulling out your flip phone and dialing your mom’s number.

She was probably asleep by now, but thinking about her possibly waiting up and worrying made your stomach turn. The line rang for a moment, but then the ending tone chirped and you were left with her answering machine.

“Hey, Mom. Uh, we had a little accident at practice. Luke was practicing his guitar throw and he kind of threw out his shoulder. I’m gonna drop him off at home and then I’ll probably just stay at the studio so I’m not biking home so late. Okay, love you. Bye.”

You hung up the phone and shoved it in your pocket just as Luke appeared from behind the door. The nurse said something to him that made his eyebrows furrow but he nodded. As you got closer, you realized that his right arm was wrapped in a sling.

“So, you’re not dying?” You joked.

“I might as well be.” Luke pouted, lacing his other arm through yours as you start to walk out of the building and into the parking lot. “They said I can’t play guitar for two weeks.”

You hummed sympathetically, knowing more than anyone how much that was going to drive him crazy. “This is what you get for trying to be all ‘Rockstar’”

“Excuse you.” Luke said. “I am a rockstar.”

“Uh-huh.” You sarcastically nodded.

“You’re a jerk.” Luke grumbled petulantly, resting his head on your shoulder. “Here I am, in unimaginable pain and you have no sympathy.”

“Here’s a tip for the future, if you want sympathy then don’t make me drive through Hollywood past midnight.” You teased, lightly shaking him to show that you weren’t actually serious.

“I’m still surprised that Bobby let you drive ‘Amber’.” He gestured to the car you were walking towards.

‘Amber’ was a present that Bobby had gotten for his birthday a few years earlier and it was his most prized possession. Normally, he never would’ve let you take it, but he didn’t feel like driving and taking Luke to the hospital in the basket on your bike seemed a little impractical. So he had handed over the keys reluctantly.

“You got something to say about my driving skills, Patterson?” You asked as you unlocked the car and settled into the driver's seat. Luke got comfortable in the passenger seat, and winced as he looked over at you.

“Don’t get me wrong, (Y/n). You are many things,” He said. “But a good driver isn’t one of them.”

You flipped him off as you started the car and started pulling out of the parking lot. It was quiet for a minute, but just as you turned back on the street, Luke turned on the radio and a familiar song filled your ears.

“Mmm, yeah!

Tonight, I want to give it all to you,”

“Oh no.” You laughed, knowing exactly what you were in for from the way that Luke’s eyes lit up. He grinned as he cranked up the volume and shifted in his seat as much as he could, ready to give you the performance of a lifetime.

‘In the darkness, there's so much I want to do

And tonight, I want to lay it at your feet

'Cause girl, I was made for you

And girl, you were made for me,’

You were trying your best to keep your eyes on the road, but it was hard when Luke was being so frustratingly cute.

His hair was still messy from rehearsal so it stuck up in different directions and he had a dorky smile on his face as he drummed his fingers against the center console. You pulled up to a red light and Luke looked at you expectantly.

You rolled your eyes, but gave in, taking one hand off the wheel to make a makeshift microphone. Luke grinned as you both began to sing.

‘I was made for lovin' you, baby

You were made for lovin' me

And I can't get enough of you, baby

Can you get enough of me?’

One song turned into two, then three, then before you knew it, you had pulled onto Luke's street.

Unlike the rest of the neighborhood, every light in the Patterson household was glowing bright yellow into the night and Luke let out a heavy sigh.

"Thanks for driving me." He said, his voice suddenly a little quiet. You looked up to the window to see the shadows of Luke's worried parents as they passed the curtains and suddenly the levity in the air was gone.

"Of course." You said.

You both knew what was about to happen.

Luke had told you all about the famous Emily Patterson meltdowns, and how they had been getting more and more frequent since he formed the band. Luke spraining his shoulder was only going to give his mom more reason to push Luke away from music.

From your music.

"Hey," You reached over and interlocked his pinky with yours, making Luke raise his eyes from his feet. "Don't let her get in your head, okay? Our music is important, and I know she'll realize that someday."

Luke’s eyes held yours for what seemed like an eternity before lightly squeezing his pinky around yours. “How do you always know what to say?”

You laughed. “’Cause I’m the greatest best friend ever.”

Luke smiled, his eyes slowly drifting from your still connected hands back up to your face. “Yeah, you are.”

The softness in his voice made your heart skip a beat. “I’m serious though. We’ll get into the Rock & Roll Hall Of Fame someday and you’ll prove her wrong.”

Luke learned a little closer, his voice practically a whisper, "Is this your way of admitting that I actually am a rockstar?"

"Oh, shut up." You groaned as you threw your head back. "You're the worst, you know that?"

"You love me." Luke retorted.

"Unfortunately." You deadpanned. "Now get out of the car, dork."

Luke fake pouted as he wiggled out of his seat and started walking towards the door, he gave you a quick grin and a wave before disappearing into his house.

Once he was out of sight, you let out a sigh and leaned back against the seats, trying to remember the way his hand felt in yours.

---

2020

"(Y/n)! Where have you been?"

Alex demanded the second you stepped into the studio, a worried expression on his face. As soon as you left the diner so late, you knew that a lecture from Alex was coming.

"I’m sorry, Al." You said. "I just lost track of time."

"Were you with that guy from the diner?" He asked, crossing his arms and raising his eyebrow.

"Someone's in trouble." Reggie loudly whispered to Luke who was next to him on the couch. Just like usual, Luke barely spared you a glance before he glued his eyes back to his songbook.

"I don’t think you have any room to be teasing anyone about cute ghost boys.” You said, mirroring his position. “How was your afternoon with Willie?”

Across the room, you could’ve sworn Luke’s writing got heavier against the page. But when you looked over at him, he gave no other indication he was paying attention.

“Don’t change the subject,” Alex's cheeks turned a little pink but he stood his ground. “You’ve been gone for hours.”

“Hey,” You walked up and rested your hands on his shoulders. “I’m sorry I made you worry. But you don’t have to. I’m good.”

“Of course I’m gonna worry.” Alex said, finally dropping his grumpy face and nudging you. “What else are best friends for?”

This time it wasn’t your imagination, Luke’s writing was definitely getting harder, enough to where it was going to rip a hole in the paper. Reggie and Alex noticed this time too and you all exchanged confused looks but before anyone could say anything, Luke jumped up from the couch.

“So! We should get working on this song.” He puts the page on the piano for you all to read. “I could use your help on the bridge, (Y/n).”

Alex shot you one last confused look and you shrugged before shifting your focus to the song. It was mostly finished, and with Julie’s poem as a guide for the lyrics, you were confident that it would be one your best songs yet.

Next to you, Luke scanned the page with the edge of his pencil, pointing at things he wanted your opinion on. Even with all the tension surrounding the two of you lately, it was nice to know that you were still a great team when it came to music.

---

For someone who learned that ghosts exist, that four of them from the 90′s were living in her best friends garage, and that they were all in a band together in one afternoon,

Flynn took the news surprisingly well.

Which meant that once Julie agreed to join the band, Flynn immediately started coming up with T-shirt ideas and new band names. You weren’t surprised at all when Julie announced that Flynn had booked a gig at the school dance a few days later.

You had all decided on the setlist that morning and had been practicing all day. Which meant by mid-afternoon, you had everything memorized. Since it was the first performance with Julie as a part of the band, you figured that letting her take the lead with vocals would be a good idea.

During the second break of the day, Luke and Reggie were messing around up in the loft, leaving you and Julie with nothing to do. So she offered to teach you a little about piano. It was a slow-going process but you were slowly getting the hang of it. "Okay, so, like this?"

Julie watched carefully as your hand flew across the keys. You miraculously played all the right notes to the song that Julie had taught you over the past half-hour and she beamed.

“Yeah! That’s perfect!” She said, “Play it again.”

Your finger was about to press down on the key, but then Alex phased through the doors. Ever since yesterday, you had been waiting for a moment to tease him about Willie. It was only fair since he just grilled you about being out all day.

“Hey, Al.” You greeted as you stepped away from the keyboard and wiggled your eyebrows at him. “And just where have you been?”

“Yeah, man, we gotta start practicing.” Luke said.

“For what?” Alex asked just as Flynn came strutting into the room. You noticed the colorful paper in her hand and nodded your head toward it with a grin.

“For that.”

Flynn set the paper down on the keyboard to Julie to see.

Alex whined as he looked it over. “Aw, man. We’re playing a dance?”

“Yeah, it’s how you build a following these days.” Luke said as he plopped down into a chair.

“Yeah, get with the program, Alex.” Julie said and Luke laughed.

The sound drew your eyes to his face and you can’t help but stare at him as you tried to remember the last time you and Luke had joked around like that. It used to come so naturally, but now even just being around Luke felt like a ticking time bomb of awkwardness.

Luke’s eyes flitted up to yours for just a second and for the next few moments you couldn’t help but wonder if he was thinking the same thing.

Flynn shouted, breaking you out of your thoughts. “The band is here?”

She then proceeds to wave to the wrong side of the room and you laughed as Julie gestured towards where you all were actually sitting. You all still waved back despite knowing she couldn’t see you.

“Okay, so now that Alex has graced us with his presence, we should get back to rehearsing.” Luke said and everyone nodded in agreement.

But before any of you could move, Carlos strolled in. “Hey, Julie, remember those orbs from dad’s pictures? I think they’re ghosts.”

Julie’s eyes went wide as she looked at the photos Carlos set on the keyboard right in front of her. She looked back and forth between all of you as Carlos rambled on.

“But don’t worry.” He said as he spun in a circle. “This room is clean, I’m not getting any ghost vibes.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. Carlos was exactly what you always pictured a little brother would be like. You had always wanted a sibling, but the closest you ever got was Reggie.

“If they come back, I’ll protect you.” Carlos puffed out his chest a little. “Because I’m the man of the house.”

Julie raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t dad supposed to be the man of the house?”

“There can be two.” He said as he pulled a salt shaker out of his pocket. “According to the internet, salt burns out their souls.”

Your eyes all got wide and you backed up until you were almost against the wall. Reggie and Luke both yelped and jumped up as Carlos spun in another circle. Alex screamed as salt went right through his torso, but he straightened a second later with a sheepish smile.

“I’m okay.”

“You’re such a drama queen.” You snort as Alex flipped you off. Julie nodded at Flynn to distract Carlos and she led him out through the doors and back up to the house.

Once they had left, you turned to Julie with an excited smile. "Wait, before we start, I wanted to show you some old Sunset Curve songs."

"Ooh, okay!”

Luke opened his songbook and a page quickly fell out. You instantly recognized the cramped but neat handwriting and laughed at Reggie. "'Home Is Where My Horse Is'? Again, Reg?"

Reggie beamed. "It's a gift."

"Thanks, Buddy." Luke patted his shoulder before opening his songbook to a page in the middle and laying it across the piano for Julie to see. 'I think you’d kill this one."

Julie’s eyes scanned the page for a moment before flipping through the book. "Who's Emily?"

The color drained out of Luke's face as he scrambled for the journal. But Julie kept it just out of his reach. "And this another one, 'She Is Love’? Who knew you were such a romantic?"

You shared confused looks with Alex and Reggie. Of course, you all knew about ‘Unsaid Emily’. Luke always eagerly shared every part of his music with the band, even if it was just a few scribbled lines or a riff he thought of off the top of his head.

But it was clear from the guy’s faces that none of you had ever heard this song. Luke writing a love song was weird in itself, but him not telling anyone about it was even weirder.

"It's just something I tried." Luke said, a faint blush on his cheeks. "But you should flip to the next one. It's got a killer beat."

He played one of the first songs you had ever written for Sunset Curve 'Last Place' and Julie nodded along with a confused look. "So you wanna use a sample?"

"What do you mean?" You asked.

"Sample someone else's music." She explained. "I've heard that riff a million times. It's a classic Trevor Wilson song."

"Who?"

With a couple of clicks on her computer, Julie pulled up a picture of a middle aged guy leaning up against a guitar and your head started spinning.

"Guys, is that...?" You trailed off, hoping that you were wrong.

"It's Bobby." Luke finished.

"Seriously? I just told you his name is Trevor." Julie said.

Alex ran his hands through his hair, a slight scowl settling on his face. "Okay well then he changed it. That's definitely Bobby, he was our rhythm guitarist."

"He looks so old." You said, resisting the urge to reach out and poke the screen.

"He looks like a substitute teacher." Alex added, producing a slight chuckle from Reggie.

"Julie, what were his other songs?" You asked. You had a feeling the bad news was only beginning.

"'Get Lost'." She said and your heart sank even further.

"I wrote that." Luke said as he tugged his strap over his head. You could tell he was getting angry beneath his calm exterior, and the same feelings were rising up inside you as Julie went on.

"’Long Weekend'?' She continued.

"That one too." Reggie said. "It took (Y/n) and Luke like a month to finish."

"This is freaking me out!" Julie rubbed her temples. "This whole time I thought you were connected to my mom. But you're actually connected to Carrie's dad?"

"Add it to our list of questions." Alex sighed, his leg bouncing as he sat in front of his drum set.

“We used to talk about music all the time.” Julie said sadly. “He never mentioned you guys.”

"Of course not." You scoffed and Luke walked across the room and threw a dart at the board with enough force to put a hole in the wall. “He takes all the credit and doesn’t even mention us.”

“And he’s rich.” Julie flipped her computer screen around to show a photo of a huge mansion. “He has his own helicopter.”

Luke abandons the darts and makes his way over to the screen as Alex jumps up. “Man, we live in a garage!”

“It’s not about the money.” Luke huffed. “It’s about the music!”

Reggie whined. “It’s a little bit about the money.”

“A little about the money.” Alex emphasized.

“He could have at least shared it with our families.” You said, thinking about your mom and how she used to work extra shifts to take care of the both of you.

Reggie nodded in agreement. “Then maybe my parent’s house wouldn’t have gotten turned into a bike shack.”

Luke took a deep breath. ”What he did was steal our legacy.”

There was a moment of tense silence before he spoke up again.

“Where does he live?”

Julie hesitated. It was clear that all of you were angry, but Luke was on another level. His music was everything to him and being betrayed by Bobby was clearly getting under his skin. You gave her a pleading look and she sighed.

“Above the beach in Malibu.”

Luke glanced at the three of you, asking a silent question. You all nodded and Luke threw on his jacket, a look of determination on his face. “Let’s go teach him a lesson.”

Julie got up from the bench and tried to protest, but you all phased away.

As you walked into the front door of the mansion, a million memories raced through your head.

Of days when the five of you would go down to the pier or the park and play for hours, or take a drive around the city in Bobby’s car and talk about being famous one day. You used to joke about someone breaking off and starting a solo career, never actually thinking it would happen.

But clearly Bobby took it a little too seriously.

You and Alex walked to one side of the house while Luke and Reggie searched the other side. Every wall you could see was covered in awards and photos of his performances along with a giant portrait of his face right above the living room. From a little further down the hall, Alex shouted your name and you walked over to see him pointing at a display of shiny silver records.

“Have you seen these records? They’re Platinum.” He said.

“Platinum?” You repeated in disbelief. You ran your hands along the frame and were shocked that you could actually touch it. Across the room, Luke grumbled.

“He recorded ‘My Name Is Luke’.” He said. “My name is Luke!”

Suddenly, you heard the front door open and Bobby walked in.

“There he is!” Reggie called and you all turned to face him as he walked up the stairs. You snorted at his outfit choice and Reggie scoffed, clearly thinking the same thing. “He wears sunglasses indoors.”

Luke and Reggie started bouncing up the stairs after him but you and Alex hung back.

“Wait!” Alex called. “You know, It’s my first time haunting someone. I want it to be special.”

You stifled a laugh as Luke and Reggie exchanged confused looks before continuing up the stairs.

“I made that weird, didn’t I?” Alex cringed and you patted his shoulder.

“Definitely.” You laughed as you nudged him forward. “Come on.”

You reached the top of the stairs just as Reggie and Luke phased through a door at the end of the hall. Alex was quick to follow but you found yourself stopped in front of what you assumed was Bobby’s office.

It was a huge room with expensive guitars and fancy furniture. It looked like every other room in the house, but for some reason, you felt like you needed to look in there.

Alex noticed your hesitation and frowned. “You coming?”

“I think I’m gonna look around a little more.” You said.

“You sure?” He raised an eyebrow and you nodded.

Once he was gone, you walked into the room and spun around, taking in the sight of even more awards lining the walls. Your blood boiled thinking about all the hours you had spent writing them only for Bobby to take the credit.

You crossed to the desk to find the bottom drawer cracked open. You tried not to open it, but your curiosity won out. It slid open and you saw that it was completely empty except for an old shoebox that was pushed all the way to the back.

The lid was covered with a thin layer of dust like it hadn’t been opened for ages. It took a minute of pulling, but you finally got the lid off and peered inside.

The first thing you saw was a guitar strap. It was black with white skulls and flowers lining the sides. You recognized it instantly as the one Alex got Bobby for his 17th birthday.

The second was a picture of Sunset Curve playing at the winter formal freshman year. You cringed while looking back at your questionable fashion choices, but the memory still brought a smile to your face.

Finally, there were a few picks spread out across the bottom of the box, and a faded napkin from the diner.

A wave of confusion and regret washed over you.

So Bobby hadn’t forgotten about all of you.

Maybe he was a music-stealing weasel that you wished you could deck in the nose. But why would he keep all of this stuff if he still didn’t care deep down? If that seemingly always grumpy but secretly dorky boy you had known wasn’t still in there somewhere?

Suddenly, you heard screaming down the hall and you quickly closed the drawer before following the noise. It led to the bathroom door, where Luke and Reggie leaned up against the wall as Alex held the door shut. Then he backed up and the door swung open.

Bobby stumbled out with a terrified look on his face, running down the stairs while he mumbled to himself. The boys laughed and high-fived, grinning at you before phasing out again. You groaned and started walking downstairs where Flynn was sitting on the couch rambling to Carrie as Julie snuck into the backyard.

You followed Julie cautiously, knowing that she would probably be mad at you for leaving earlier. When you walked through the screen door and heard her start to lecture the boys, you knew you were right.

“So, did you guys have fun?” She asked, crossing her arms.

“You would do the same if he stole your music.” Luke said defensively.

“But you guys have new music with me.” Julie added. “And the best way to get back at him is for this band to do great. First we have to play dances, then clubs.”

“Then tours. I know.” Luke said and Julie sighed.

“I’ll see you guys at the school. We go on at 9:00.” She frowned. “Please don’t be late.”

“We’ll be there.” Alex said reassuringly. “Don’t worry.”

Julie turned and walked back through the screen door, giving you a tight-lipped smile as she passed.

“I don’t care what Julie says. I’m glad we scared Bobby.” Reggie said as he glared up at the mansion.

“I mean, maybe it was a little harsh.” You said and all of them stared at you in disbelief.

“Harsh?” Luke sputtered, like he couldn’t believe that just came out of your mouth.

“I found some stuff upstairs.” You tried to explain.

“What kind of stuff?” Reggie asked.

“The picture of us playing back in freshman year, some of our old picks, his old guitar strap.” You said, but the boys didn’t look convinced. “Guys, Bobby was our friend. We shouldn’t forget that.”

Alex and Reggie looked a little conflicted, but Luke didn’t budge. “How are you so cool with this?”

“I’m not!” You sighed, talking a little louder than you meant to. “God, of course I’m not okay with it, Luke. I put just as much of myself in those songs as you did. But I think we’ve done enough. Besides, it's not like we can even confront him anyway.”

“Maybe we can.” Alex said and you all turned to look at him. “I mean, Willie knows a lot about ghost stuff. Maybe he knows a way we could talk to him.”

“Let’s go find out.” Luke smiled mischievously.

You frowned but nodded. “You guys go. I’ll meet you at the dance.”

“(Y/n)-” Luke started but you had already disappeared in a flash of bright white.

If there was anything you didn’t miss about being alive, it was school dances.

You were always wrapped up in work or band stuff to be able to go, let alone ask anyone to be your date. Playing at the freshman winter formal was the first and only time you had ever set foot in a dance until tonight.

Your eyes scanned the gym in awe as you followed Julie through the dancing crowd. There were bright lights and balloons everywhere. There were a few kids dancing but it wasn’t very crowded, but it was still early and you hoped more people would be there to see you perform.

Once you and Julie reached the stage, Flynn grinned from behind her DJ booth and gestured to the backstage area. Julie fiddled with the bottom of her shirt nervously as you both walked behind the curtain.

Flynn gave Julie a hug and you laughed as she flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Are they here?”

“(Y/n) is.” Julie explained and Flynn waved in your general direction in response. “The boys will be here later. At least I hope.”

“I’m sure they will be.” You tried to reassure her. “They know how important this is.”

Flynn nudged Julie’s shoulder with a grin. “Well, let’s get your stuff set up then.”

By the time 11:00 rolled around, you were ready to track the boys down and kill them again.

The dance floor was twice as crowded as it was when you got there, and everyone was impatiently waiting for the main performance. You knew that wherever the boys were, they must’ve just lost track of time and didn’t know they were late. But that didn’t stop you from being angry. Especially when you saw the look on Julie’s face.

“Hey,” You sat on the floor next to her while she stared sadly at the projector. “I’m sorry they’re not here.”

Julie just shrugged. “I was really looking forward to playing tonight.”

Your eyes drifted to the crowd, then to the projector, then to Flynn and you got an idea. “Maybe we still can.”

She furrowed her eyebrows but there was a spark of curiosity in her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“We can perform the songs. Just the two of us.” You started. “Flynn can play some backing tracks and we can still rock this place!”

Julie looked nervous and a little hesitant but she called for Flynn and the girl raced over immediately. She explained the plan quickly and Flynn grinned in approval and assured you that she would take care of the backup music.

A pit of butterflies opened in your stomach. You hadn’t performed without the boys for years, but with Julie to lean on, you were fairly confident that you could get through it without throwing up.

You went on with Julie as planned, pushing thoughts about what the boys must be doing off to the side so you could focus on the performance at hand. It wasn’t quite the same, but it didn’t seem like the audience could tell. You belted your hearts out as they danced along, and both yours and Julie’s nerves disappeared as you got lost in the music.

It ended with a thunderous round of applause and you and Julie taking a bow at center stage. You took your cue to phase away and there was another wave of cheering as Julie waved and joined you in the backstage area.

As the crowd of students began making their way home and the stage was being torn down, you sat on the gym floor beneath a colorful balloon arch with Julie. Flynn had made her way to the cafeteria, taking advantage of the fact that there were no adults to stop her.

You watched the last few students leave, including the blonde boy you’d noticed staring at Julie all night. You turned to her with a playful smile.

"So? When were you going to tell me about the cute boy who obviously likes you?" You teased and Julie sighed.

"Nick is Carrie's boyfriend." She said as her eyes drifted across the empty room and you smiled sympathetically. She elbowed the air next to your ribs, "When were you going to tell me about Luke?"

"What about Luke?" You asked, trying not to blush.

"Don't play dumb, (Y/n)." Julie smirked. "It's obvious."

You groaned, falling onto your back against the floor and Julie laughed. "How obvious?"

"(Y/n), you wear his jacket like everyday, and that song in his journal was one hundred percent about you." Julie laid down beside you.

You snapped your head sideways and Julie laughed again at your shocked expression. "What?"

"Come on." She said. "Who else could that be about?"

You thought back to earlier, when Luke looked like a deer in headlights as Julie read the title out loud.. But you knew there was no way that it was about you. I mean, Luke never exactly had a shortage of girls that wanted his attention.

Just as you were about to point this out to Julie, there was a series of bright lights and Alex, Luke and Reggie appeared in front of you. You and Julie stood up, wearing identical glares, the anger you both felt earlier returning in full force. But before you could say a word, Luke launched into an apology.

“We are so sorry that we bailed on you guys.”

“The night just got away from us.” Alex added, looking everywhere but your face.

“It was about Carrie’s dad, wasn’t it?” Julie asked and when none of the boys answered, she scoffed. “You know what? Save it. Bands don’t do this to each other, friends don’t do this to each other. This whole thing was a mistake.”

“You mean the dance, right?” Luke asked hopefully and Julie shook her head.

“I meant joining a band with you guys.” She said, trying to keep a straight face. You could tell she was holding back tears as she ran out of the gym.

Once she was gone, you took a deep breath and faced them.

Alex immediately stepped forward, guilt etched on his face.”(Y/n), We’re so sorry.”

“I’m not the one you should worry about apologizing to.” You said, looking towards the doors where Julie left just a second ago. Alex followed your eyes and sighed, grabbing onto Reggie’s shoulder and steering him towards the door.

There was a moment of heaviness as you took another deep breath. You realized with a start that this was the first time you and Luke had been alone in months. Talking used to come so easily between the two of you, but now you found yourself struggling to find your words.

“We really are sorry, (Y/n).” Luke said quietly. “We didn’t mean to hurt Julie. Or you.”

You scoffed, kicking your foot against the linoleum of the gym floor, “But you did, and for what? A chance for revenge?”

“No! Well, yeah. But there was something else that happened. You won’t believe-”

“What could’ve been more important than being here?” You asked, cutting him off. You forced yourself to look up and found him looking back at you intently.

“If you just let me explain, I promise I would never purposely leave you hanging.”

“But you have been leaving me hanging, Luke!” You fired back, your voice nearly echoing in the empty room. The second the words left your mouth, you felt nauseous. After months of keeping those words on the tip of your tongue, you had expected saying them to feel better.

Luke winced at your words, but kept your gaze, “Hey, I know I’ve been..” He paused, knitting his eyebrows together, “distracted”.

“That’s one word for it.” You said and Luke took a cautious step closer.

“It’s just that everything has changed so much.” He said, and for the first time tonight, he looked away, “Even before we died.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but he cut you off, seemingly unable to stop rambling.

“It’s like there’s so many things I’ve been trying to say, but I can’t make the words come out. And it all gets so tangled up in my head and I just end up saying nothing.”

You could see him getting more frustrated as he continued on. “I’m sorry for everything. For being late, for being such a shitty friend and being so far away lately. I just-”

He took another step forward, eyes never leaving your face. “I’m just afraid of losing everything.”

There was an edge to his voice, like it was hard for him to get the words out. As he inched a little closer, you reached out your hand, fingers inches away from his when suddenly he jumped back. A purple shock flashing in the middle of his chest.

Luke fell to the ground, groaning as he clutched his side. You crouched next to him and his eyes fluttered open slowly. “Ow.”

“What the hell was that?” You asked and Luke sat up.

“I don’t know.” He said, rolling his shoulders, “That’s never happened to me before.”

Suddenly, Alex and Reggie phased back into the gym, both of them looking just as shocked.

“Guys, something so weird just happened.” Reggie exclaimed. Alex took in the sight of you and Luke sitting so close to each other and cleared his throat.

“Should we come back later?”

You glared at him. “Let me guess, you guys also got shocked with creepy purple magic?”

“How’d you know?” Reggie asked, wide-eyed.

Alex sighed at him before he turned back to you. “We definitely need to figure out what the hell just happened.”

“Yeah, let’s go home.” You said and Luke cleared his throat, staring at Alex and Reggie.

“Uh, you guys go. We’ll be there in a minute.”

Alex gave you a questioning look and you nodded, and with another flash, they phased out.

It was quiet for a minute as you both processed everything that just happened. You and Luke hadn’t had a fight like that since you were kids, and that was the most he had said to you in over half a year. Your head was spinning with all the change.

Luke rubbed the back of his neck and you could almost feel how nervous he was. “So..”

“So…” You repeated.

Luke turned a little more towards you and quickly wrapped his pinky around yours. He gave it a gentle squeeze as he smiled.

“Truce?” Luke asked.

You nodded, smiling as you squeezed back. “Truce.”

In Life, In Death Taglist:

@ifilwtmfc @instabull @wanniiieeee @tenaciousperfectionunknown @charliegillespiewife @merceret @itismeasmolpotato @lilostif16 @dangerouslyclose @iainttakingshitfromnobody @givemebooksorgivemedeath @sunsetcurvedotmp3 @askgeoff @mayleenicole5676 @puppy11148

JATP Taglist:

@caitsymichelle13

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#luke patterson #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson x reader #Reggie Peters #Alex Mercer #julie molina #jatp fanfic

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