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hermannsthumb · 3 years

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possible prompt for a university au: newt is the biology major who maintains all the fish tanks in the physics building at 11pm and hermann is the physics student who likes to wander the halls to think. newt accidentally flings water all over the ground and hermann trips, hijinks ensue.

earlier today I was thinking about how I wrote a college AU fic almost 3 years ago to the date, and how I wanted to do more bc its fun thinking about newt and hermann as dumb college students

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Newt's not really sure how he ended up with the weirdest work-study job on the planet, but honestly, things could be much, much worse (he could be stuck down in the dining hall, or dealing with confused freshmen in the school bookstore) so he keeps his thoughts on the whole thing to himself. Every Friday at eleven sharp, Newt pulls on his grodiest t-shirt and a pair of long rubber gloves and treks all the way over to the physics department to set to work scrubbing down the fish tanks that line the classroom walls. Why does the physics department have fish tanks? Newt's not really sure about that, either. It's kind of an insane amount of them, too, more than even the marine bio department has. Maybe it's supposed to boost morale or something. Hey, look at these crazy cool tropical fish who get to do nothing but eat and swim in circles, sorry you're stuck inside calculating velocity and shit.

Whatever, Newt's not complaining about that either. Let the physics nerds have their fun. It'll be good for them to branch out a little, realize there's life beyond robotics club meetings.

Also, Newt likes the fish. They're cute. He likes to think they like him, too, because they're very well behaved when he has to scoop them out of their tanks and plop them into smaller fish bowls (the kind goldfish in movies always use). He's going to teach them tricks eventually—he had a beta fish once who would do a little flip when Newt tapped the glass a certain way because he knew he'd get rewarded with dried worms, so Newt knows it's possible. Just imagine, a hundred fish doing flips on command. Newt Geiszler, fish whisperer.

Yeah, maybe the job could be more glamorous. It's really hard to get algae out of the gloves, and he hasn't been allotted the budget for a new pair yet.

"Hey, guys!" he shouts as he pushes in the door to room 214. The fish don't acknowledge him: they just continue swimming in their giant tank. In and out of plastic plants and rock caves. The rock caves were a gift from Newt three months into the job, and so were some of the moss balls—stimulation is important for fish! He wouldn't want to be trapped in a glass box with nothing to do, either. "I bet you missed me. Ready for a clean tank?"

Newt always talks to the fish, even if they don't talk back, because he thinks it's important to build their trust. He'll usually keep a running commentary of his week as he scrubs the tanks, just get everything off his chest that he needs to get off. Stuff he's worried about. Stuff that went well. Stuff that went badly. Therapy's expensive, and Newt's student health insurance can only cover so much, but talking to fish? That's free.

That's also kinda why he does it so late at night and over the weekend. The last thing he wants is an audience. Because, one, talking to fish is admittedly weird, and two, no one wants a glimpse at Newt's psyche like that, probably not even the fish.

The first step in cleaning the tanks is relocation. Newt digs his stereotypical goldfish bowls and an industrial-size mesh wand out of the supply closet, fills the former with some of the special tank salt water, and begins the slow and arduous task of scooping out the fish and depositing them into the bowls. "I had the lamest week," he announces once he's about three clownfish in. "I was working on a group project Saturday—"

Then Newt stops, because he hears footsteps in the hallway just outside the classroom.

Serial killer, Newt's instincts supply helpfully.

No, Newt corrects himself, that's dumb. Why would a serial killer wander into the physics building at eleven o'clock at night? Why would anyone, period? He's probably imagining stuff. Lack of sleep, stress over his upcoming projects, residual embarrassment from his disaster study session Saturday, all of it culminating in Newt thinking there's someone there. No, definitely imagining it. Newt can only even get in this late to the department because his ID swipe card is set up with the right permissions—not even the physics students have the permissions he does to be in this late at night. Well, not unless they clean the kitchenette in the student lounge or something.

Or if Newt left the door unlocked.

More footsteps. Closer now.

Newt's pretty sure he didn't leave the door unlocked, because he thinks it locks automatically behind him, and he would have to literally prop it open for anyone to get in after him. But anything's possible. The door could've caught on a dropped pencil or a paper scrap or other weird shit that physics students leave around, and a serial killer could've noticed and taken the opportunity to sneak inside on the off chance a hapless young biology major was scrubbing slime off fish tanks in the middle of the night. Any minute now, Newt's about to end up on an episode of Unsolved Mysteries. The Physics Department Murder. The Disappearing Biologist. (Nah, neither of those are very good titles, but that's why Newt isn't on the creative writing track.)

Step-tap-step. Closer now; Newt's heart leaps to his throat. Step-tap-step. Step-tap-step. Pausing just outside the door of room 214. God, why didn't Newt turn the lights off? Why didn't he shut the door?

Newt reaches for the first vaguely weapon-shaped thing he can find—an empty fishbowl, because Newt's not going to sacrifice any of the fish for this—and, as the door swings open, hurls it with a cry.

The bowl clunks on the ground. Except it turns out Newt grabbed the wrong fish bowl, because (even though it doesn't shatter, thank God) water quickly begins to seep across the slate floor tiles towards Newt's serial killer, a pathetic little clownfish (Newt thinks this one is named Albert, because the physics department is made up of nerds who do shit like name their random pet fish after their kind) flopping around in the puddle. Newt's serial killer, meanwhile, cries out similarly, his arms windmilling as he loses his footing and slips backwards, his cane—

Oh, fuck.

The intruder is not a serial killer. It's someone possibly worse, actually: Newt's mortal enemy, Hermann Gottlieb.

Newt's not really sure at what point Hermann became his mortal enemy and not just some guy I have class with that I hate, but he can pretty easily say that they've hated each other since the moment Hermann walked through the doors of Engineering 101 and was deigned Newt's lab partner by the Alphabetized By Last Name Seating Chart god. Something about Hermann just gets under Newt's skin. It's not his prissy English accent, or his oversized sweaters, or his absolutely horrendous haircut, and it's not even that he takes every opportunity to savagely rip apart every single thing Newt says in class. Don't get Newt wrong, that's all super fucking annoying, but it's annoying levels he can deal with.

It's the stuff they have in common that makes Newt hate him. It's like Hermann's a slightly broodier and more angular mirror that reflects all of Newt's most egregious faults—his arrogance, his stubbornness, his social awkwardness, his desperation to be taken seriously—right back at him. It sucks.

Plus, one time Newt caught Hermann ripping down the flyer he put up on the quad for Anime Club to advertise his stupid chess club instead, and he's never managed to forgive him for that.

Newt may hate Hermann, but he's not about to let him land on his ass in a puddle of fishy water (especially not on a freezing November night) just because the subsequent bitching would be unbearable, and, yeah, it would be supremely shitty of Newt, so he leaps forward just in time to catch Hermann and his cane before he hits the ground. He's so impressed with himself with his amazing catch that it takes him a few seconds to realize that Hermann is shouting and probably has been shouting since he slipped.

"—bloody maniac! What on earth are you doing in here? How are you in here? Did you just assault me? I'm going to phone campus police, you wretched—"

"Hold that thought," Newt says.

He rights Hermann and snags the mesh net and rescues poor Al before it's too late, dropping him back into the big tank with the rest of his friends. Newt can't be sure, but he thinks Al blows a bubble in thanks at him. Maybe he needs to make friends outside fish.

Hermann is still yelling at him.

"I am going to tell the head of the department you're—you're skulking about in here after hours!" he declares. "You're a menace. Pay attention to what I'm saying to you, Newton!"

Newt sighs and turns around. Hermann's turned an interesting shade of red—sort of like an over-boiled lobster, or if he fell asleep in the sun for too long. Newt wonders if it's from embarrassment (almost falling on his ass) or anger (almost being knocked on his ass). Probably anger. "Look, dude, I'm sorry," Newt says. His face twists like he ate a lemon, and he hopes Hermann doesn't notice. Newt hates apologizing to Hermann. "It's my job to clean the tanks every weekend. You scared the shit out of me and I freaked out—it's just that, like, no one ever comes by this late. Ever." He decides not to mention the serial killer thing. Hermann might make fun of him for being jumpy or paranoid or something.

Hermann's scowl doesn't lessen, but he does nod. Plus, he stops shouting. That's as much as Newt's gonna get of forgiveness. "Hmph," Hermann says. "You clean the tanks?"

"Every weekend," Newt repeats. He realizes he got some fish tank slime on Hermann's button-up when he caught him. Oops. Hopefully Hermann won't notice until Newt's in the safety of his dorm. "Gotta pay for my textbooks somehow." Then he frowns. "Wait, so what are you doing here? I didn't know you had access to the building this late."

Maybe Hermann is the kitchenette-cleaning guy after all. But, to his surprise, Hermann sniffs and casts his eyes to his dorky Oxford shoes. "Er," he says. "It's just—I was having trouble working out a solution to a problem, and thought a walk might do me good. Chilly nights like this one always do. And I quite like this building at night—it's calm, and much quieter than my dormitory." He fidgets. "And—well—only don't say anything to anyone, but I rewrote the permissions of my ID card so I could come and go wherever I please ages ago."

"You rewrote the permissions?" Newt says. "What the hell, wouldn't you have to hack into the security system or something to do that?"

"Well, obviously," Hermann says.

Despite himself, and despite Hermann being his Mortal Enemy, Newt is genuinely impressed. "Dude," he says. "That is so badass." Since when has Hermann been a badass?

Hermann's eyebrows jump, and he blinks at Newt behind his dorky librarian glasses. What twenty-one-year-old wears librarian glasses? With a chain? "You think so?" he says.

"Uh, totally," Newt says. "What problem were you stuck on? The one from Saturday?"

Being lab partners for engineering means Newt and Hermann have to collaborate on pretty much everything, including their midterms. Their midterm is what they've been working on for the past two weeks. On Saturday, though, they met in neutral ground to work on it (a reserved study room in the library), and, after a stupid and massive argument that had the librarians hoisting them out by their shirt collars and threatening to ban them for life, Hermann called Newt an idiot and stomped off into the night. Newt still hasn't gotten around to giving the problem another shot. Whatever, they have another week before the dumb thing is due. Plenty of time. Hermann nods. "Yes," he says. "Er—that one."

Newt glances at the clock ticking away on the wall. Quarter after eleven. Hermann's delayed him a whole fifteen minutes. Technically, he reminds himself, he doesn't actually have to have the tanks scrubbed by Friday night—he has the whole weekend to get it done. Also, he kind of feels like he owes Hermann for attacking him the way he did. Accidentally attacking. "Listen, Hermann," he says, feeling totally insane for what he's about to suggest. But he kind of wants to know more about Hermann The Badass. "What if we went back to my place and worked on it together? I'll buy us pizza, and I have, like, a bunch of energy drinks." The pizza place nearest campus is open until three in the morning, almost definitely because they get all of their business from sleep-deprived undergrads. Plus, they have midnight specials where you get free breadsticks with every pizza. Newt could go for some breadsticks. "It might be...fun," he adds.

Fun? With Hermann? Hermann will think he hit his head or something.

But to his surprise, Hermann doesn't hesitate even a second before saying "Alright, then."

"Oh," Newt says. He honestly thought Hermann would put up more of a struggle. "Cool!"

"But I might need to borrow a jumper," Hermann says. "If you'd be so...courteous, that is. I'm a bit chilly."

For some reason, the thought of Hermann (Newt's mortal enemy, but also a secret badass) curled up in one of Newt's baggy sweatshirts makes Newt feel all weird and warm all over. He swallows a few times, because his throat feels a little weird, too. Too tight. Like he just ate something he's allergic to. "No sweat," Newt says. "Let me just get these fish back in the, um, the tank. And—" He waves his slimy, gloved hands. "Take these off. And clean up that puddle. Gimme—um, gimme like, ten minutes?"

"Of course," Hermann says, and gives Newt a small, terse nod.

From Hermann, it's a smile. Newt almost slips on the puddle he's so blindsided by it. Stupid Hermann, making him feel all weird and clumsy.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous

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smartguyreviewed · 4 years

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2x6 - Trial and Error

Original air date: Oct 15, 1997

Okay, so we begin this infuriating episode with Floyd coming home and calling out for his biological children. None of them are home. Except for Mo. Mo broke into the house. No, seriously. He broke into the house and started eating somebody’s leftovers. Now in any other case, this would warrant a passionate ass whooping and a call to the parents of this child because what the fuck are you doing so wrong to have your son breaking into houses and not stealing anything except for food? However, this is sitcom world and Floyd just seems more annoyed than anything since Mo is always there anyway.

Mo tells Floyd he needs to be more careful about locking the windows. So linebacker ass Mo really needed to eat and somehow oozed through a window just to get food? Ok, I take back what I said about him needing his ass kicked. Mo is clearly malnourished even though he’s huge. His parents must be poor and therefore can’t afford to feed him. Holy shit was that dark. Moving on.

Food and TJ’s brain are the reasons for his crime. His parents are going to kill him if he brings home another D. This is really helping me build a theory that Mo’s parents are abusive, so let’s assume his parents are literal this time about the kill thing. Floyd then realizes that Mo’s punishment would equal him not being over again to eat up their food and casually break in so he tells Mo that TJ joined the Marines. Nice, Floyd.

Just then, the rest of Floyd’s flock comes in babbling about who got what part in a play. TJ is naturally upset because he wanted a bigger role, still not getting used to the idea that he’s a 10 year old and unless he’s playing the role of a character with dwarfism, it wouldn’t make sense for him to have a huge part. TJ storms off in a huff. Typical TJ things.

The next day, everyone is atwitter over a test from their more over it than Lisa Simpson teacher. This man wants all of his students to fail. He hates his students. He’s a teacher and yet he hates teaching. Maybe this is the wrong profession for you, bruh? And it’s evident his ‘over it’ level is on a million from the way he comes in and tells his class to “get ready to hate me.” The deadpan, dry delivery was funny though.

His first task is to give his students an assignment so hard that even he doesn’t know all the answers. Um, why? If you don’t know the answers, how are you gonna grade the tests? Isn’t this just creating more work for you, someone who already hates his job? Why the fuck does Piedmont hire such bad teachers and faculty, dammit?

Even TJ is intimidated by this test! Mo asks Mr. Bringleman why stuff from another chapter he previously said wouldn’t be on the test is on the test. He simply says he lied. This man is evil. I hated teachers who did that bitch ass shit. Yes, I only studied for what you said was going to be on the test because I have other classes too, ya know. I’m a teenager, not a machine!

I’m just gonna call him Mr. B for the rest of this review because fuck this most likely racist white man. His ass was listening to the boys talking about how hard the test was and then Mo says he wishes he could do to Mr. B what he does to all of them. Mr. B asks if he’s threatening him and Mo stammers. Then Mr. B insults his intelligence by asking if he ever has a complete thought. Before he can even fix his mouth to call him the N word, not Linda Ellerbee shows up to see what’s going on. Oh yeah, and she’s the new principal. She’s the third one so far and this is only the first half of the second season.

Anyways, she needs someone to cover a class and outright forces him to do it. Ha-ha. When the boys laugh at him, Mr. B says he’s going to grade Mo’s test. Nice, I just love seeing teachers bully students.

At the play rehearsal, TJ is still campaigning for a lead role. Mackey has to be the one to humble him, asking for duct tape. Marcus’s play related arc in this episode is pursuing acting seriously in case music doesn’t work out. His part has no lines so he’s trying to act with his face. He can just feel the SAG membership card in his hands.

Just then, Yvette bursts in wearing a Prince-inspired outfit and lets everyone know there was a fire in the chem lab. Dun du--pause. Why the fuck is she telling everyone? Wouldn’t they have had a fire drill? Are there no fire alarms in this blasted school? How the fuck did nobody know about it or smell smoke and why is Yvette bursting in like the town crier in this Purple Rain ass outfit???

All the students are happy until Linda Ellerbee hands Mo his charred playbook and asks him to come into her office. Dun dun dun. Later we find out that Mo was expelled. Because he is an abused child who only feels safe at the Hendersons, Mo has once again broke into their house and begun working out in their garage. Floyd is over it.

TJ comes home and talks to Mo. He is sad to learn that nobody thinks he’s innocent but says that TJ has to believe him because he has the “wide-eyed innocence of a child.” He follows this up with shitty examples of kids trusting adults who end up being assholes. Once they finally get on a good example, TJ is able to see that Mo is innocent and decides to help Mo get back into school.

The next day, TJ is in the principal’s office waiting for Linda Ellerbee. She has mice in her office because Piedmont is the worst public school ever and is resorting to playing the Spice Girls to get them out. Is that supposed to be a diss to the Spice Girls? Fuck anyone who disses the Spice Girls.

Sis is not budging when it comes to letting Mo back in the school. Sounds like a job for TJ’s cuteness and persistence! He gets her to agree to a mock trial where Mo would have to come back to the school. I...whatever. Order in the courtroom!

TJ is Mo’s defense. The opposinjg side calls Marcus to the stand so we already know this will end in disaster. It takes less than a minute for Marcus to admit that Mo threatened Mr. B. Ugh! Stupid Marcus. But he doesn’t even do the worst on the stand. Mo actually manages to fuck it all up! Marcus and TJ are trying to paint Mo out to be, what the kids today would call it, a “punk ass bitch.” Rather than play along and accept it, dumb ass Mo puts his stupid, fragile masculinity ahead of his chance to get back into school and says that he follows through on all threats. Once he realizes his gaffe, he immediately sits his ass down. Yvette is annoyed.

Vice principal Millitch, who will later replace Linda Ellerbee in one of the only sensical things I’ve seen regarding Piedmont, qualifies that Mo’s playbook was found at the scene next to Mr. B’s burnt gradebook. It was nice knowing ya, Mo. We know how the legal system works.

So then the loser teacher gets on the stand and tries to make it seem like he doesn’t intentionally make his students suffer by giving them ridiculously hard tests and lying about what’s even going to be on the test. To him, Mo is just a stupid, violent nigger so of course he’d want to commit a crime instead of studying harder. And then he lays it on thicker by insulting his intelligence again, explaining what the word combust means in the most smug ass, irritating way. It’s fucked up upon re-watch but at least it’s super realistic how predominately black public schools get racist white teachers often. They’re usually there for the tuition reimbursement.

TJ is now realizing that he may not be able to help Mo out of this jam. While eating dinner, Yvette comes in and apologizes for her lateness, saying the trial is over and now the school can continue with the play rehearsals. She tells an adamant TJ that Mr. B, also assuming the trial’s conclusion, was chain smoking cigarettes and humming “Don’t Worry Be Happy.” Floyd is appalled at the latter. TJ’s gears begin shifting. Side note but doesn’t Mr. B just look like a miserable ass teacher who smokes in the classroom?

TJ and Mo break into the school. Geez, so much trespassing in this episode! Mo isn’t even worried about being caught because what are they gonna do, “expel him from college?” Slapstick ensues while TJ collects samples from the gradebook. Mo, on the other hand, is battling a mouse trap. I was super high when I watched this last night but this scene had me in stitches. Omar Gooding is really good with physical comedy. Look, even TJ gets stuck to him when they’re leaving! Priceless!

At court the next morning, TJ calls Mr. B to the stand. He brilliantly examines him and exposes him for smoking in the classroom, which was the actual cause for the fire. This man is fucking evil! He was actually about to get away with very possibly ruining a teenager’s life until a fucking 10 year old stepped in and dug deeper. He could have seriously gotten him disowned by his parents, making him homeless, forcing him to turn to the streets for survival. All because he’s an asshole and didn’t have the heart to own up to what he did. Hell, it’s fucking Piedmont! I’m sure they would have kept him!

Seeing as he just gets sent to Linda’s office, he’s most likely getting a slap on the wrist and paid vacation leave. Oh well. Also frustratingly realistic. At least Mo isn’t expelled anymore. Too bad Mo’s unwashed hands are still sticky when he shakes the principal’s hand and the joke continues.

At the end, Marcus gets bumped up to the illustrious Juror #2. Gotta love a true thespian! Case dismissed. Bring out the dancing lobsters.

Things I noticed:

- Stinky Steve is Mr. B’s defense.

- Piedmont has no respect for their students’ time. The mock trial began at 8am. Assuming that their school day begins at 9am, I bet the play participants probably hate TJ for forcing them to get up an hour earlier than normal, on top of having to do the play after school.

#tj henderson #smart guy #tahj mowry #yvette henderson #essence atkins #john marshall jones #marcus henderson #jason weaver #stinky steve #sister sister #morris tibbs #mo tibbs #omar gooding #floyd henderson

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singulari-taee · 4 years

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The Danger in Duality | 07

BTS X Reader

CW: Some violence and explicit sexual content

“You and your seven squad members must take on the struggles of being world-class assassins while also living as full-time college students”

________________________________________________________

The sizzling against the metal tray should have been a warning, but you took it as an invitation. Your tongue burned as you shoveled food down. Missing meals wasn’t new in your field, but with the news, you needed something to distract the churning dread in your stomach.

Though the cafeteria did little to ease this dread. It had been three years since the last time you had a meal here, but everything about the place put you on edge. The sounds of chairs screeching against the floor brought back a wave of nostalgia. One that wasn’t welcomed. One that came with memories of rushed lunches and healing bloody knuckles.

You’d already graduated, left the hidden mountain compound to do what you were meant to do. So how come even then, years later, the sterile white walls made your hair stand on end?

“I would love to have a meal without being gawked at.” Hoseok said across from you.

Jimin spared a look up and met eyes with about half of the cafeteria. He immediately turned away, “Creepy much?”

“They’re j-juwst kids, give ‘em a b-break.” you tried through a burning mouth, “Shit that’s hawt.”

“Kids with criminal records that are literally here to be taught how to get away with murder. Or did you forget?” Jimin said, “And why don’t you wait for it to cool down? It’s not gonna run off your tray.”

You forced down a swallow, “I'm hungry now.”

The boys shared a look and shrugged.

“I guess I ate too much of this growing up. My stomach can’t take it anymore.” Seokjin said.

“Yeah I don’t think it can.” Jungkook said, going to poke Seokjin’s gut. The oldest prepped to backhand him, but Namjoon held his arm back.

The cafeteria food wasn’t bad by any means. You weren’t sure how The Academy got Michelin star chefs to work in the kitchen, but they never let you down. Though Seokjin had a point, if you hadn’t been desperate then you might have a problem with eating it too. The richness almost made you sick, every ingredient tasted like The Academy. You pushed the thought back and took another swallow.

“Why did we have to come all the way here to have the meeting with Mr. Kim?” Hoseok asked as he played with the food on his fork, “Couldn’t that have just been a videocall like usual?

“Knowing him, he just felt better delivering the message in person. It just felt too serious to talk about through a screen, you know?” Taehyung said.

“I heard that they’re searching the van and all our places for planted spyware,” Namjoon added, “They sent out a team while we were driving here. If there was something in the apartment that we didn’t find, then they could have listened into the meeting.”

“They went to our places? Shit, I’ve got roommates!” Jimin worried.

The thought of a man searching your apartment while Luna was around sent unease coursing through you.

“You know they’re discreet. I’m sure they considered that.” Namjoon said.

“You should worry about them finding your porn instead.” Jungkook snorted.

“Hell no, I hid that better than my weapons. They’ll never find it.”

“It’s The Academy we’re talking about, can you be so sure?” you asked.

Jimin’s face fell.

Behind Hoseok, you saw a boy extend his leg from his seat as another boy passed. The passing boy failed to look down, and his foot was caught. He lurched forward, nearly careening to the ground before Yoongi caught him.

The boy looked up at Yoongi and his entire face flushed. He quickly moved away and smoothed down his clothes.

“Hi!” the boy said, panicked. His eyes darted around the table, “I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to do that. Fall on you, that is, Mr. Yoongi. I mean, sir! Um…”

“No problem.” Yoongi said shortly, “Just watch your step.”

Yoongi looked around at you all, a silent cry for help as the boy continued to stand there and stare.

“I’m a huge fan. You’re my idol.”

“Idol?” he began to laugh. Namjoon kicked him under the table. “I mean, wow I’m...honored? I, like, really appreciate it, kid.”

You all knew your squad member wasn’t comfortable around kids. You theorized it was because children were more moldable, more easily impressionable, and he didn’t want to be responsible for innevitably fucking them up. But this was The Academy after all, and this place had a way of doing that on it’s own.

“Yeah, I read up on your stats and techniques all the time. I want to be just like you when I leave this place.”

“I don’t know if that’s the best goal to have.”

“I mean it! I Iook up to you and I didn’t think that I would have the chance to ever tell you this so it sounds really stupid but I think you’re all really cool and wow just thanks for coming today.” He rambled.

Yoongi rubbed his neck, “‘ppreciate it...a lot. Thanks, I mean it.”

The boy stood there for a few seconds longer before running away from the table, “Okay, thanks again nice to meet you bye!”

Taehyung waved as he retreated, “That could have gone a lot worse, honestly. Poor kid.”

You noticed that Yoongi wasn’t stiff anymore. His shoulders were relaxed, and the hint of what looked like a smile had made an appearance. There was pride in his eyes. Not the usual arrogance, but instead fulfilment. You realized you had been smiling too.

“Huh. So he doesn’t make all orphans cry after all.” Jungkook mused, “Good job.”

“Nah, he wasn’t here long enough. If he was here for a minute longer Yoongi would have had the kid pissing himself. Trust me, I’ve seen it.” Hoseok said.

“Whatever, that was one time. That little shit had it coming.” Yoongi muttered as he ate.

“He stepped on your shoe...on accident.”

“Not my fault he was so sensitive. I just gave him some words of wisdom.”

“Saying you’d shatter his kneecaps if he touched you again are not words of wisdom.”

“There was a metaphor in there somewhere.”

“With that little boy just then...that was sweet.” you said to him, “Even for you Yoongi...I’m sure just that meant a lot to him.”

He didn’t look up at you, just shrugged and continued eating. It was a normal reaction for him to give you, and any other time you wouldn’t expect much. But for some reason, you wanted more from him, an acknowledgement, a smile even, or just for him to look at you. It felt like a quick jab to the gut, but you cleared your disappointment and went back to your meal.

Behind you, chairs violently scraped against the floor. There was scuffling and grunting, and what you knew to be the sound of fists hitting skin. You all saw a group of boys throwing punches. They had to be young because their movements had no goal, just a messy and angry flailing of limbs.

Around them, the cafeteria went on in the usual flow. No one paid attention to the fight, and carried on as if the boys didn’t exist. Fights outside of practice weren’t new, almost encouraged in a way. But it was different sitting there among the madness now that you were an outsider.

“Where’s the security? Where’s the adults?” Taehyung asked, scanning around the room after the fight had gone on for too long. There was a cry of pain.

“We are the adults.” you said.

Yes, it was encouraged. But that was if there was a lesson to be learned. From the looks of the bad technique, there was none.

“We really doing this?” Jimin whined, “C’mon, it builds character.”

“I mean, I fought during dinnertime too and I turned out fine.” Jungkook said.

“Debatable, honestly.” you said.

From across the room you saw someone pick up a tray from a table and slam it down on the person below.

You threw down your fork and ran from your table.

There were five boys in two different fights. A group of two rained punches down on one boy who was cowering on the floor. Next to them, another hit a boy with a metal tray as he straddled him. You went to the two boys first, yanking them back by their collars. They slammed against the floor, and looked ready to turn on you until they looked you over.

You moved to the second fight, where you caught the boy’s arm in midair before he could swing down on the boy he was beating. You jerked the tray away, making it slide across the floor. He tried to use his other hand to punch at you, but you caught it in your fist and twisted it behind his back. He looked up at you for the first time, and you saw all the color drain from his face.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was you I-”

“Get. Off.”

“Y-yes, ma’am.”

Taehyung and Jungkook were suddenly there. The young boys looked like they had stopped breathing altogether as they took in you and your two squad members.

The three of you bent down to help the beaten boys to their feet.

“Leave.” Jungkook said. The three boys jumped to their feet and sprinted out of the cafeteria.

“You alright?” Taehyung asked the one beaten by the tray. He turned his bruised face to him and a pang of recognition hit. Images of bloody concrete and machetes took over his mind.

“You. I’ve seen you before. The garage! At the casino!”

The swollen eyes were easily recognizable, as the last time he had seen the boy he was being beaten to a pulp on the floor of the abandoned parking garage. It had only been a day.

Taehyung was sure the other boy was also in the lineup that night.

“You’re the guy that didn’t kill me.” the boy said through his busted lips, “Thanks...for that.”

“Yeah of course...are you okay?” he asked the boys.

“It’s just been a bad first day,” the other boy said.

“I’m gonna go back to my room now. Thanks again.” they gave you a pitiful glance before limping out of the room.

The three of you shared a look, one that you all understood.

They worked fast.

_______________________

All of the lights in the building had come to a slow dim, a silent sign that it was nearing time for bed. The kids flooded the halls on their way back to their dormitories. Something urged you to join them, blend in among the crowd and turn in for the night.

Jimin took a step forward and stopped himself, laughing, “Woah. Its like this place still has this hypnotic mind fuck of a hold on me. My mind is saying ‘follow them’. I swear I just got sleepy.”

“Years of conditioning will do that to you.” Hoseok said, “But we’re grown ups, remember? We don’t have a bedtime. Let’s take advantage of it.”

“What’s that mean?” Yoongi asked.

He had the idea to simply explore, walk the halls with your new graduate freedom and see what had become of the place. Soon after the eight of you were packed tightly, roaming the corridors, listless. It was a strange feeling, like you were breaking some sort of rules.

“Looks the same.” Jungkook said. He stood in the entrance to the library, arms folded.

“No, look, they took away the creepy paintings.” Taehyung noted, pointing to the walls. Sure enough, they were replaced with posters. If only this change had happened when you used to spend your long nights studying here years ago. You would have appreciated not looking up and seeing portraits of old men staring back at you. Come to think of it, you didn’t even know who they were paintings of- never cared to check either.

Going along and taking a right, you all neared the Aquatic Wing. The smell of chlorine was thick and almost calming, but Hoseok noticeably stiffened by your side. As you stared at the large pool through the window, he shuddered.

“This was hell.”

“For you. Water training was the best part of the week.” Jimin snorted.

“That’s because you’re an actual pervert.” Namjoon noted.

“And spent the whole time ranking girls in their swimsuits.” You added, “And don’t even try to lie, we all saw your list.”

“And if you remember, you were pretty high up on that list, I must say.”

Water training was not as cut and dry as one would hope. It was made up of endurance testing, speed drills, and air control to lengthen how long every trainee could hold their breath. If your time hadn’t improved by the end of the semester, you’d be placed in extra courses- like Hoseok.

He was never a water guy. Sure, Hoseok was good at a lot of things, but swimming was never one of them. He believed it was probably something rooted in his childhood, a fear he couldn’t quite remember the exact start of. Anytime he was around water, he felt weak.

Just seeing the still pool made his heart quicken. Too many classes did he spend on the verge of hyperventilating, and bursts from his memory made his breathing go shallow.

“I think it’s time to move on, yeah?” he asked. He didn’t wait for an answer before he walked away.

The group shared a look. Everyone knew about Hoseok’s relationship with water, and it was no surprise that he would want to get away. Every time he had opted to stay on land during any missions at sea could have told you that.

Past the Aquatic Wing was the section you hated most. You were met with a set of double doors and a large window that showed a room with a singular chair and monitors. Some technicians were still inside, shutting down the computers and machines. You gulped.

“The Pressure Room.” Yoongi said, a mere breath.

That wasn’t the official name, but the nickname that spread amongst the trainees was fitting enough.

“This was the stuff of my nightmares.” Taehyung said, rubbing the back of his neck, “I still don’t know how I passed this class.”

“It took me three tries but I did it.” Seokjin sighed, “______ and Jungkook are the only people I know who passed the first time around.”

“I knew ____ could pass, but how did you pass?” Jimin asked, turning to Jungkook, “You’re riled up all the time.”

“Shit was easy enough.” he shrugged.

Their voices seemed to drown out as you stared at the chair. It was as if you could feel the cold leather, the taut wires on your skin as you sat there, room dark illuminated with the glow of the screen. It read your vitals, everything about your body’s functions on display to be evaluated by the technician.

“The new number is 52 beats per minute. Get your heart rate down to that in the next 10 minutes and you’ll be released.” The woman had said this one particular time.

Your upper body was constricted by a straight jacket, and your inability to move had already caused minor panic. It hadn’t started out that intense. First day there were no restraints, then handcuffs, then it was upped to hanging upside down from the straps on the ceiling. The number to get your heart to had dropped every week, but 52 was nearing impossible. But this was the final exam- it had to be extreme. And hell if you’d fail and take this damned course again.

You had noted a crate in the corner, but it was covered to hide the contents. You’d heard from others that the straitjacket wasn’t the only part. There was more, and it was different for every person. You’d braced for the worst and closed your eyes as you had heard the beep of your own heart. It was slowing, but then you heard the woman open the crate. Soon after there was a sudden weight on your lap. You peeked your eyes open and attempted to not jump out of your own skin. A fat snake rested on your legs and slowly moved up your body. It’s head neared your face, and the beeping on the monitor jolted into overdrive.

“Calm yourself.” you had heard the woman instruct through your frantic breathing, “Do that and it’ll be over soon enough. Get to 52.”

Jungkook and some of the others wanted to visit the Weapons Control Unit, but you opted to go your own way. With a wave, you all parted and you carried on down another hallway.

You happened upon a wide room with a large silver telescope in the middle. It faced up to the open window on the ceiling, long as if reaching up to the heavens. The moonlight was the only guide in the darkness. It had been one of your few solaces in The Academy. A place where you could find peace in the darkness and just look at the stars, so far away yet they managed to ground you.

As you browsed, you felt the energy in the room shift, a slight and silent difference. From the aura alone, you knew who had joined you.

You sighed, “Thought you were going down memory lane with the others.”

“Decided to take a rain check.”

A hand grabbed your shoulder and spun you around, your back hitting a wall. He had been so quiet, you didn’t even know he was that close. Damned assassins and their silent steps.

Two arms caged you in on both sides of your head, “I would rather not see Jungkook nut himself over the artillery collection again.”

“Again?”

Yoongi shrugged, “Pretty sure it’s happened before.”

He was so close. You could feel his body heat radiate from the space between you. He ducked his head down as if to meet his lips to yours, and you moved your face away. He froze.

“What?”

“Is there something you fucking need?” you asked your squad member, eyebrow raised.

Yoongi shrugged, “I mean yeah, I was hoping to finish what you started earlier. Perfect place, dark, no cameras, under the stars....”

“What I started?” you laughed without humor, “Yeah, sure.”

He pushed back a bit to get a better look at your face, “Everything okay?

“Yeah I mean, this whole thing is just weird. Back at the apartment and at dinner tonight you don’t even look at me, but 24 hours ago you were knuckles deep in my pussy.”

“I’m just being normal. I didn’t mean to be an asshole. I just thought normal was what we agreed on.”

“This whole arrangement isn’t normal, though.”

“So you want our entire dynamic to change in front of the guys? You know someone will notice, I didn’t think you wanted the extra attention on us. My bad I just...thought it was business as usual when they’re around...and that meant not really talking.”

Business as usual. That snapped you out of your feelings for a bit. He was right, why did you suddenly want it to mean more than a hookup when it couldn’t be?

You sighed, “You know what? You’re right, I don’t know why I was making it a whole thing. We said it was just sex and I don’t know why I expected more from you. Sorry.”

He was looking above your heads towards the light, thinking, “Don’t apologize. I can go too far sometimes. Maybe I should stop being as much of a dick to you.”

“As much?” you asked.

“Yeah, can’t stop completely, that’s going too far.” he grinned.

He looked down at your lips and began to move closer. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into you. Your mouths crashed together, feverish and hot. It was sloppy as your tongues fought for dominance. You pulled his bottom lip with your teeth and he groaned, his grip on your waist tighter.

“Wait, wait,” you said. You grabbed his shoulders and pulled away, “I don’t know if this is the best place to be doing this.”

Yoongi sighed, “People hooked up here all the time back in training, it's fine.”

Common sense tried to steer you away, and the risk was making it hard to focus. You were both still on The Academy’s property, and though it was easier to get away with back in the day, a single slip up now could cost you both everything.

“Everyone's asleep and security shouldn't come this way for another hour,” he said, eyes searching yours in the moonlit room. His hands went to your jaw cupping your face, “We can be quiet.”

Again, you felt your resolve shatter as your lips met again.

You were pressed tight against the wall, and you felt one of his hands disappear from your face. It was soon where you needed it most, going to calm the aching in your core. His fingers dipped down your pants and you sucked in a deep breath.

“Oh fuck.”

“Wet already? Just can’t wait, huh.” he smirked.

You didn't answer, instead holding eye contact as you held in your pleasure. Your hands went to the zipper of his pants, sliding it down and reaching for the bulge there. He closed his eyes, groaning as he tried to hold himself back.

“Guess you can’t wait either.” you gave him a sly smile.

Without warning you pushed him backwards, making him hit the telescope with a bang. Hand still down his pants, you reached into his underwear and held the shaft of his dick in your hands. It was heavy, twitching as it yearned to be touched. You began to jerk him off, watching his mouth open as he moaned out. His middle finger traced your folds before dipping into your pussy. You let out a huff as he pumped it in and out, and he laughed.

“Don’t hold back, you know you like it.” he whispered.

“Gotta do more to get a reaction out of me, Yoongi.”

His eyebrows raised, and in one swift motion your back was against the telescope. He turned you over so your palms and cheek hit the cold metal. He stood behind you.

“What are you-”

Yoongi kneeled and pulled your pants and panties down. His hands went to cup the underside of your ass as he spread you before him. Soon after you felt the slick, warm muscle you dreamt of dive into you.

“Ohhh!” you moaned out, hands going to fists as his tongue worked you from behind. He lapped you up, collecting your juices as you dripped for him without control. His tongue plunged in and out of your pussy and you bent over more to give him a better angle. You were breathing heavy, your mind clouded by euphoria as you felt his mouth travel up and his tongue worked your ass.

“Yoongi! Oh god, please…” you couldn’t help the sting of profanity that followed. Two of his fingers pumped into you as his tongue worked, curling in a way that made you lightheaded. You lifted your leg, putting your foot on a bench to give him better access, “Shit, shit, shit, fuckkkkk.”

The sounds of his slurping were crude and embarrassing, the noise bounced off the walls and mixed with your mewls. His free hand massaged your thigh, kneading into your shaking legs that threatened to give out from under you.

“Could you be any louder?” he whispered. You could hear the smugness in his voice.

You bucked back on his face as he continued to eat you out from the back. His hand on your thigh moved to your stomach, as he pushed you further back into him. His tongue made you feel like you were nearing ascension. It was electric. Chills racked your body and you felt your strength leave every time it moved against you. You felt the pressure in your abdomen building.

“I’m about to cum, I’m about to cum-” it came crashing into you, and you clung onto the metal as the room spun, “I...f...fuck.”

“Oh shit,” he breathed behind you, surprised by the gush that left you.

You took a moment to come down from your high and turned your head to him. His face was wet, glistening in the moonlight. He smiled, wiping your slickness onto the back of his hand.

“More.” you said weakly, “Put it in me Yoongi, I want more.”

“You want it?” he asked, lips to your ear as you felt the tip of his dick tease up and down your ass, “Tell me how bad, I’m not gonna cave in so easily.”

“You want me to beg?” you asked. You felt his hand go up your shirt and squeeze your breast as his thumb tweaked your nipple.

“Don’t be too prideful, just-” his hand moved from your chest to your throat. His dick was pressed to your ass, and he squeezed the side of your neck. You let out an airy breath, “Still don’t want to beg for it?”

“Yoongi,” his chest pressed tight to your back, “I need it so bad it hurts.”

You told him the night before that you wouldn’t cave in to letting him fuck you so easily. It was a power move of sorts. One that you thought you’d be able to hold out on longer. You wanted it, needed it badly, and your aching for him made you put your pride and power aside to have him where you needed him.

“Okay, baby. That’s all you had to say.”

You spread your feet apart again, and behind you he adjusted himself. Bending over, you felt him rub himself over your still slick pussy. He paused at your entrance, taking a deep breath and muttering something before slowly pushing forward. He plunged through you slowly and you let out a cry as you adjusted to the size of him. Yoongi cursed under his breath, bottoming out. He rocked slowly at first, feeling the way you constricted against him.

“Shit,” he hissed, “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

He thrusted faster, his hips meeting your ass in a nasty beat that ricocheted off the walls. You could see your breath against the cool telescope metal, puffs that left your body whenever he entered.

His grip on your throat tightened, leaving you a whining mess as he thrusted deep into your core. You were lightheaded, clouded with pleasure.

“Y-yoongi it...feels s-so good,” you managed. You felt full, the sensation making your knees weak and your heart soar, “Oh my god!”

You pushed back against him, meeting him in the middle every time he thrusted forward.

“Woah, ah shit,” he cursed, “You feel so good, _____. Fuck I can’t hold on for much longer. You’re amazing.”

You felt the pressure building again, and he pulled you back by your throat causing you to bend into him. It wasn’t uncomfortable, your flexibility was to thank for that, and you smiled as he fiddled with your clit with his other hand. It was too much- the feeling of being rammed and filled to the brim, the grip around your throat that made the room go fuzzy and you go breathless, the strokes to your clit that sent jolts of pleasure through your body.

“Oh shit I’m about to cum again.” you said as your palms slapped desperately against the telescope. You were trying to cling onto something, anything to ground you from flying away in ecstacy.

“I’m right behind you, cum baby. Come on.”

Moments later the pressure reached its peak and detonated in your abdomen. The dark room exploded with light for the briefest moment, your hairs standing on end as another wave of chills racked your body. The sounds that left you were embarrassing, but you could barely hear them over the ringing in your ears.

Yoongi moaned as you squeezed him, following your release soon after with heavy breaths and curses. He shot his load into you, and you felt the warmth fill you up then slide down your leg when he pulled out.

He deflated, and with a heavy sigh dropped his chest onto your back. His hands touched the telescope too, a sorry attempt to hold himself and not leave his weight on you. He panted and left small kisses on your neck and shoulder.

“Shit.” he breathed.

“Ditto.” you chuckled, turning to look at him.

He was drained. His eyes were tired but held an unusual focus and fascination- as if he was taking mental snapshots. He looked through that lens in awe, “You’re special, you know that?”

As your afterglow dimmed, his gaze suddenly held more weight on your skin. The room came back into focus, and your ears caught up. You shrugged away from his stare, looking at the black walls past him. You felt an uneasiness deep from your chest.

“I’ve been telling you that for years. Finally you listen to me.”

“Yeah...finally.”

You cleared your throat and went to pull up your pants. Your thighs were still slick, and you took a mental note to make a trip to the showers tonight.

“Guess we better hurry back before the boys start to ask questions.” you said.

“Yeah.” Yoongi said, fixing his pants.

You stretched out your limbs, feeling the sore ache between your legs when you began to walk. Composing yourself, you both walked out of the dark observatory and back into the sterile halls.

It was a pretty silent walk, nothing but your own steps to listen to. Yoongi wasn’t one to talk without reason, so it left you to fill in the gap in conversation. But without the snide jabs, you both fell short. You came up empty, and the thoughts of his earlier ramblings filled your mind instead.

“Hey,” he began, “It’s way too late to be asking this but...you’re still on birth control right?”

“Yeah, it’s mandatory, remember? The Academy can’t be having their employees getting knocked up.”

“Ah, right. Sorry. I’ll be more careful...next time.”

The two of you made it to the dormitory wing. When you rounded the corner, you were met with a tall frame and face of confusion.

“Oh there you both are.” Namjoon huffed, “Where were you? I went to your rooms and neither of you were there.”

“We ran into one of the old trainers and got stuck talking for a while.” Yoongi said dryly.

Namjoon’s eyes narrowed, “Huh. Weird, I swore the only staff that’s supposed to be around at this hour is security. They must have changed some rules since we left.”

“So what did you want to talk to us about?” you redirected.

“I just wanted to let everybody know we’re leaving at 8 tomorrow morning. So get a good night’s rest and try to get some breakfast before we hit the road.”

“Sure thing.” you smiled tightly, patting Namjoon on the shoulder as you walked past to your room.

Namjoon walked to his own door, giving a lazy wave before closing himself in for the night.

Yoongi stood in front of your door, “You calling it a night?”

“Yeah right after I wash up because you know...your cum is probably at my ankles by now.” you whispered.

“Okay I said I was sorry about that, didn’t have much of a choice,” he rolled his eyes, “What about, you know, after?”

“Um, sleep?”

He rubbed his neck, looking everywhere but at you, “Alone?”

You shifted feet, “I mean I was planning on it. The bed is only so big, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah, true.”

“And I don’t know how much sleep we’d be able to get. We have to wake up early tomorrow and there’s the risk of someone seeing you leaving in the morning too...so…”

“No, you’ve got a point. I wasn’t thinking.”

He turned to walk to his door down the hall and waved, “G’night.”

You nodded with a small smile, “‘Night.”

Closing the door, you found yourself restless yet again between those walls.

_____________

The lull of the weekday was almost a comfort after the weekend. Textbook pages flipped, a crackle in the air that was merely an accent to the lecture.

“So is it moral for Gorlagon to punish the queen the way that he did?” the professor asked the class, “By making her face her crimes, she has to acknowledge her infidelity. But being given her lover’s decapitated head to kiss and hold seems to be going far, is it not?”

You were taking notes and heard Hoseok groan at your side.

“Medieval literature is so fucked up. Why did you make me take this class with you?” he whispered.

“You literally kill people for a living.” you deadpanned.

“Yeah but I’ve never cut anyone’s head off.”

“Oh yeah sorry, my bad.” you said, sarcasm dripping.

“Whatever, you know there’s a line even we try not to cross.”

“So you’re saying you wouldn't ever do it even if they asked you to?”

“Well yeah, if the price was right, sure I would.” he said, “Oh come on like you wouldn’t. Don’t look at me like that.”

“No I would. Just add it to the list of things I already probably need to get therapy for.”

“What therapist can you talk to about mass murder?” .

You shrugged, “Let me know when you find out.”

“It’s cruel and unusual but it gets the point across I must say.” the professor continued, “And werewolves aside, it's a pretty accurate depiction of what happens when human emotion drives man. But what do you all think?”

A girl at the front raised her hand, “I agree, I think it shows the evil in people. And even though the head cutting thing is gross, it works to warn other cheaters of the consequences.”

“I don’t know, I’d like to disagree and say it’s not that accurate. At least from a literal standpoint.” Hoseok said when he raised his hand.

“Go on, open discussions are always welcome.” the professor prompted.

“Well realistically you wouldn’t be able to carry around a decapitated head for much longer than a couple days before the decaying process starts to become really noticeable. Autolysis starts a couple minutes after death, and when the tissues break down so will the skin and internal organs. And the story doesn’t even tell you what the timeline is from the actual events to when Gorlagon tells the story to Arthur. I’d guess around a couple months, but like, that's a long time. I’m assuming the cut was made with a sword or axe given the time period, but probably an axe because it’s a lot better for that kind of thing, so it should be a pretty clean slice which should help the queen hold the head easier but still, the decay after months would have the skin peeling off into her hands at that point. So I don’t know I just don’t see how that would work.”

The class went silent. You could only stare down at your notes and wish to disappear. If you could scoot away from Hoseok without drawing attention to yourself, you would. A few others turned to look at him.

“Wow. Great take, Hoseok. I love having med students in my class for this reason. So helpful.”

The professor carried on with the lecture, and Hoseok sunk down in his seat.

“Did I really just-?

“Sure did. Hated every second of it.” you said.

“But it wasn’t that bad right?”

No answer was your answer.

Everyone was released for the day, and the entire walk to the library Hoseok tried to justify his thoughts, more so to himself than you.

Yoongi was on his phone and took in your clear annoyance as you approached.

“What happened?”

“Hoseok basically told the whole class he’s a serial killer.”

“That’s not what happened!”

“Hoseok, the professor assumed you were a med student.”

“Well, I got participation points today and you didn’t. I have a class in 10, I’ll see you later.”

He walked away and left you and Yoongi alone. You wished Hoseok had stayed to level the awkwardness that was developing between you and Yoongi. When the group came back from the headquarters, you stayed in your apartment for the rest of the weekend. It was your first time seeing your squad member since the ride back home.

“How were classes today?” you asked.

“Nothing too exciting. Sounds like yours was, though.”

You groaned, “When I tell you I wanted to die.”

“Should we be worried about anybody finding out about our...jobs.”

“Nah, I think we’re safe.”

You walked up to the help desk, and pulled out a flashdrive from your backpack, “Hi, are the printers still broken? I need to get this file off for one of my classes.”

The lady at the desk looked at you quizzically, “No they work just fine. We haven’t had any issues with them in a couple months.”

“They weren’t broken? But...” you played back Luna’s words from last week in your head, “Um, okay great, can you please print out the 2nd file under the ‘Projects’ folder?”

She took your flash drive and walked to the back.

“What?” Yoongi asked, noting your clear confusion.

“I could have sworn Luna said the printers were broken last week. That’s why she had to come over to your place.”

“You sure she said the library’s printers? It could have been the one in the humanities building, they have them there too.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

You took your flash drive and papers when the woman returned and walked to the exit.

“You’re done for the day, right?” Yoongi asked, shielding his eyes with his hands when you both stepped into the sunshine.

“Yeah, I’m kind of floating around right now, though. You?”

“Yeah I’m about to go back home.” he said, “We’re getting another mission later today so if you have to, you could come over early. None of the boys are going to be back home for a while so...” his voice getting lower.

You turned to him dramatically, “Are you inviting me over?

“Nevermind, forget it.”

“I mean you’re always kicking me out. Wow this is so new I don’t know what to do.”

“Nothing. Don’t come.”

“I can’t deny the invitation, are you crazy?” you continued to push his buttons until you both were walking through the door of his shared apartment.

The place held an unusual serenity and peace, unusual for anywhere that housed 4 men.

“You said they’re not home right?” you asked as you dropped your bag on the barstool.

“Nope.”

“So...we have it to ourselves?” you asked, leaning against the countertop, taking in his lithe frame as he sat on the couch.

He nodded, little in his expression.

“Well, I’m going to go to the bathroom really quick. One second.”

You went down the hall to what you knew to be his bedroom. It was clean, simple, and borderline boring. Yoongi wasn’t one for much decoration besides a poster and a plant by his window. His bed was made up neatly with black and silver accents- a queen that looked like it hugged you when you laid in it.

Walking past the bed, you moved to the bathroom and looked yourself over in the mirror. You fixed your hair, smoothed down your clothes and turned to make sure your ass looked okay in your pants. With the place to yourselves, you were ready to feel his hands on you again. The thought made your heart jump quickly, and you worked to calm yourself before walking out the bathroom.

You sauntered back into the living room, a little more sway in your hips than usual. You looked at the sofa, but it was empty.

“You want anything while I'm in here?” he called from the kitchen, “I’m not getting up again once I sit down.”

You claimed your spot on the sofa, eyebrows furrowed, “Uh, yeah I’ll take some water.”

He came back into the living room with your water, a beer for himself, and a bowl of chips.

“So...what did you want to do?” you asked, sipping tentatively.

“There’s this movie on Netflix I’ve been wanting to watch forever. You know that new one with the girl from the drama Seokjin was watching?” he mistook your baffled expression for aversion, “You have anything else you want to watch?”

“No, um, that sounds...fine.”

The two of you sat in silence while the movie played. You weren’t following at all, wrapped up in your own thoughts. Did you misread him? No, why else would he invite you over when the boys weren’t home if it wasn’t to hookup? You glanced over at him, covered in the rays of the stretching sun as it set. He was completely wrapped up in the movie. Not once did he make a move, and you were scared of how much you craved his touch.

As your eyes roamed his delicate features, a part of you began to soften at his concentration. The way his lips tilted up at a funny scene, and then went back to a pout, as if he was trying to hide his entertainment. You had the urge to run your fingers through his hair, anything just to feel him.

Without breaking from the television, he held out the bowl to you.

Breaking from your thoughts, you took some and turned back to the movie.

“You’re not even watching.” he suddenly said.

“I am!” you insisted.

“What’s going on right now?” he asked.

You racked your brain for an answer, and the two characters fighting on the screen did nothing to help. Truth be told, you had no idea, but you couldn’t give up so quickly.

“You’re trying to test me? That’s bullshit.”

He finally looked at you, “You don’t know what’s going on.”

You edged closer, grabbing the chips and settling in next to him.

“Can you explain it?”

He gave you a sour look, “You want me to explain an hours worth of movie? Forget it.”

“Fine I’ll just look up the summary.” you said, pulling out your phone.

“Don’t do that, you’ll spoil the ending!” he said. You fiddled the device in your hand, thumb hovering over the search engine, “Shit. Fine, I’ll make it as simple as possible.”

He went on for a minute breaking down the plot and characters. It made more sense, but as you watched him explain it, you couldn’t help but notice some misplaced hairs that flapped everytime he moved his head. It was distracting, and without any self control, your urge to touch him took over. You smoothed the dark tresses, combing it with your fingers and patting it into place.

Yoongi paused and cleared his throat, “And now, uh, they’re trying to get back before time runs out. And that's basically it. You get it? You better.”

You nodded, locking eyes with him, “Yeah, I get it now. Thanks.”

The film played in the background, and for the first time since it started, he wasn’t watching. He seemed to be contemplating something in his head, a question.

The faint creak of the stairs came from outside, and immediately you jumped to the opposite end of the sofa. The keys jingled in the lock, and the boys filed in.

“I just think that's bullshit!” Namjoon raged.

“Just talk to your professor about it, that's all you can do.” Seokjin said.

“Why’s Joon so pissed?” you asked Jimin when he claimed the spot between you and Yoongi.

“His professor didn’t give him the grade he thinks he deserved for his presentation so he might not make the Chancellor's List this semester.”

“I do deserve it, first of all. It was the best one up there are you kidding me?”

“Oh no, you won’t make Chancellor’s List, you’ll fall from grace and make the Dean's List instead...big fucking whoop. If you want to swap GPAs with me, be my guest.”

“You still have finals, you can always bring it up. Don’t stress it.” Taehyung advised.

“He acts like he’s going to have an aneurysm if he doesn’t get above a 95, give me a break. We’re being hunted and he’s worried about grades.” Jungkook muttered as he sat on the arm of the couch. He looked down at you, “Why are you here?”

You turned to him slowly, “Ouch?”

“You know, before us. With just him.” Jungkook said, nodding over at Yoongi.

“She broke in like usual.” Yoongi said.

“Ouch?” you repeated.

“Alright it’s almost time.” Seokjin said as he pulled out his laptop.

When it hit the hour, Mr. Kim appeared on the screen, sitting at his usual desk with a fresh pressed suit.

“I’m glad to have seen you all this weekend, even if it was for a terrible reason. For now just be cautious and report anything that raises concern.”

You all agreed, and he carried on.

“Well this assignment should put everyone at ease a bit. It’s a smaller mission with not as much on the line,” three mugshots flashed, each of men in soiled clothes, “These three men make up what's believed to be small cult that kidnaps and murders their victims for religious sacrifices. 21 people have gone missing in the past 2 years for these sacrifices. Some bodies have been discovered, and they all have the same markings: a burned circle on their wrists. These men were given the minimum sentence, but then were released 2 months into serving it after a review of tampered evidence. The man on the far right is the cousin of a member of the presidential council. We believe he has a role in their release.”

The screen switched to a photo of a cabin in the woods.

“This is where they conduct their sacrifices. They arrived at this house 2 days ago and have not left since. Case files say they average one sacrifice a month, so given the timeline of the murders, another should be in the works at any moment. None of them have records of impressive combat skills, so this should be a very low risk mission for you. Because of this, we won’t dispatch the entire team. We’ll need Yoongi and _______ to carry out the job, and Seokjin on surveillance duty. Any questions?”

“No, sir.” Seokjin answered.

“To the 3 on the assignment, I’ll send exact coordinates for the cabin shortly. Ah, I almost forgot to mention, your residences all came back clean of any planted devices. Other than the mic Seokjin found, the van was clean as well.”

There was a collective sigh of relief.

“But we’ve concluded that the van was tampered with and moved because they not only wanted you to find the device, but to let you know that they know where you all are and have access to you whenever they want.”

And just like that, the anxiety was back.

“Well great.” Jimin whispered.

“Did you get any intel on their location?” Namjoon asked.

“We’re still working on finding the precise one. But after researching we’ve narrowed it down and honestly it’s...concerning. Our other units were stationed all over the world and Anti still targeted them with devastating results.”

“Well...where do you think it is?”

“Likely, given the van incident and the materials they used to make the mic...their hideout is within 20 miles of you all.”

Previous Next

__________________________________________________________

We back baybee!

Let me know what you think of the update! Curious to know which direction you think its going...

As always thanks for reading! Feels good to be back.

#bts fanfic #bts smut #yoongi smut #bts angst #yoongi angst #did #the danger in duality #namjoon #seokjin #yoongi #hoseok #jmin #taehyung #jungkook #bts x reader #bts au #kpop fanfic

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hazzasgayvodka · 5 years

Text

mister long term booty call

In which harry has been your best friend for six years and after learning you haven’t had sex in six months, he’s willing to give you a hand, or rather a finger ;)

You hear the front door open and lean over the back of the couch to see Harry strolling in, not paying attention to your staring eyes as he leans his skateboard against the wall and drops his backpack right next to it.

“You’re late sir.” You quip, and he finally snaps his head up to meet your eyes under his unruly mess of hair tucked into his beanie.

“I know, sorry, I was uh-“

“Fucking Tiffany in the back of your car?” You smirk knowingly, getting up off the couch to meet him in the kitchen.

“Jenna,” He corrects, and you quirk your eyebrow up in further questioning, urging him to explain, “Tiffany’s sister.”

“God Harry, you’ve got to be kidding.” You groan, shoving him over as he opens the pantry to raid it for snacks most likely.

“Gotta do what you gotta do, Y/N,” He shrugs, grabbing the bag of salt and vinegar chips, “Not all of us have mister perfect just waiting for us to call him over.”

“Can you please not call him that?” You sigh, rolling your eyes, “And you could have a miss perfect if you wanted to, you just don’t want to pay for the poor girls’ popcorn when you take them to the movies.”

He shrugs with that regular shit eating grin on his face that you know all too well. You put a bag of popcorn in the microwave as he shrugs off his denim jacket and tosses it on the hook in the hallway before kicking his vans off and throwing them underneath.

“I mean you answered the question yourself,” He says through a mouthful of chips, “I could have that if I wanted it, but I don’t, especially not with fucking Tiffany, more like miss blowjob behind the Dennys.”

You swat him in the arm as he walks behind you to get to the fridge and grab a can of Fanta. He’s laughing as he cracks it open and chugs some of it down, plucking the bag of popcorn out of your hand and pouring some into his mouth.

“Harry! That was mine!” You huff, rolling your eyes as you grab a soda for yourself.

“It’s still yours!” He chuckles, collapsing on the couch with his backpack, “I’m just bringing it to the living room for you because I’m just that thoughtful.”

You walk around the corner to see him sat comfortably in the middle of the couch with all of the snacks piled up on the coffee table in front of him. He dumps out his backpack, adding two more bags of chips and six boxes of candy to the pile.

“Someone had a field day at the dollar store.” You joke, reaching around him to grab a box of Mike and Ike.

“Spent all ten bucks on you,” He nods, shoving a Twizzler in his mouth, “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” You sigh, tucking your feet up under your legs as you get comfy.

He grabs the joint from behind his ear and takes the lighter out of his pocket, igniting the end. He sucks in a drag as he slumps further against the couch, running a hand through his overgrown mess of hair.

“So how is mister perfect?” He muses, turning over to meet your eyes as he grabs the TV remote, “Still perfect?”

“He’s not perfect Harry, he’s just-“

“A student professor at your college with medical insurance and the keys to a Tesla?” He mocks, eyeing you over his shoulder as he starts flipping through the channels.

“Would you shut up?” You huff, grabbing the pillow from behind you and smacking him over the head.

“What?” He scoffs, “Am I wrong? He’s fucking boring, Y/N.”

You roll your eyes as he pulls off his Higgs hoodie, revealing his Astroworld t-shirt. He slumps back against the couch and you grab his hoodie yourself, pulling it over your head.

“So what is it?” He asks, breathing out another cloud of smoke, “Why isn’t he perfect? Other than the fact that he’s an absolute snore fest of course.”

You shove him over with your shoulder and steal the joint out of his hand, placing it between your lips instead, “He’s not boring Harry, he’s…safe.” You sigh, taking another drag.

“Safe?” He taunts, snatching the Mike and Ike out of your hand, “That is exactly what you call someone that’s drop-dead boring.”

“He’s not-“

“What’s his favorite ice cream flavor?” He asks instead, cutting you off.

“Um,” You think aloud, wishing you didn’t have to say it, “Vanilla?”

“God, Y/N! Are you kidding me?” He groans, throwing his head back against the couch, “What does he teach?”

“Biomedical engineering-“

“Fucking hell!” He shouts, cutting you off once again, “He’s literally a piece of white bread, Y/N,” He says, turning to face you on the couch, “God, you know Wonderbread? That’s him, he’s a fucking piece of Wonderbread.”

“He is not a piece of Wonderbread, Harry,” You defend, rolling your eyes, “He’s a stable guy, with a stable job, and-“

“At least tell me the sex is good.” He cuts in once again, shoveling popcorn into his mouth.

“It’s uh, the sex is um, it’s fine-“

“Oh my god, Y/N!” He shouts, his voice nearly startling you, “Even the sex is boring?”

“I did not say that-“

“You didn’t have to!” He laughs, “I’ve known you for six years, I can tell when you’re lying,” He smirks obnoxiously, “God I can’t believe even the sex is bad, what is it? You suck him off and then it’s like five minutes of missionary or-“

“Harry!” You squeal, grabbing the pillow you flung at him earlier and covering your blushing face with it instead.

“Oh, come on, you’re acting like we don’t talk about this shit.” He huffs, grabbing the pillow from over your face and tossing it over his shoulder.

“You talk about this shit, Harry,” You laugh lightheartedly, “Without me asking you to, might I add.”

“Well maybe if you were having better sex, you’d want to talk about it.” He shrugs, sticking his tongue out at you as he turns back to the TV.

“Maybe if you were less promiscuous, you’d talk about it less.” You counter, leaning back against the couch and shoving your feet in his lap.

“Maybe if you actually got some good sex, you’d be less annoying.” He teases, leaning back against the couch and folding his arms on top of your legs.

You wake up to the light coming in through the living room window and peel your eyes open to see Harry underneath you. He’s passed out cold, his head in your lap and his feet hanging off the edge of the couch. He must’ve curled up on your lap after you fell asleep during your American Horror Story binge. You suddenly hear a knock at the door and realize that must have been what woke you up, but who the hell is here this early in the morning?

You shove him off your lap and he grunts in protest, curling back up with one of the astray pillows as you stumble to your feet. You pass the kitchen on the way to the door and you catch the time lit up on the stove out of the corner of your eye.

One thirty? No way, it’s not one thirty in the afternoon. Sure, you two didn’t go to bed till four but it couldn’t possibly be-

“Y/N? Hello?” You hear your boyfriend’s voice ask from behind the door as he continues knocking.

“Shit, shit, shit!” You whisper to yourself, looking down to see yourself still dressed in the same sweatpants from yesterday and Harry��s Higgs sweatshirt.

“What’s happening?” Harry groans from the couch, standing up and running a hand through his messy bedhead.

“Mister perfect is outside because I was supposed to go out to lunch with him today!” You whisper harshly, trying to figure out how to get ready and air out the very present smell of weed in your apartment in the next three seconds.

“Lunch? Who the fuck makes plans to go to lunch-“

“Harry! Not right now!”

“Well fine, why don’t you go get dressed and I’ll entertain the snooze fest for ten minutes.” He suggests, walking past you to grab the door.

You cringe outwardly, your face screwing up into the worst expression as he pulls the door open and suddenly your two very separate worlds are colliding. Your boyfriend doesn’t know you as some girl who smokes weed and inhales potato chips while bingeing TV shows with your best friend who’s a self-proclaimed lady killer and proud retail associate at Zumiez. He knows you as Y/N, a girl he met studying at the library who enjoys critically acclaimed movies and going to brunch on Sunday.

“Hey there mate,” Harry grins, gesturing inside, “Why don’t you just come in and chill, she’ll be ready to go in like ten, maybe fifteen minutes, I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of getting to know each other.”

“And you are?” Your boyfriend asks, raising his eyebrows as he passes Harry in the hallway.

“Her best friend,” Harry grins proudly, “Harry.”

Your boyfriend reaches out his hand to shake Harry’s, but Harry grabs his hand and pulls him into a bro hug, clapping his back. You meet your boyfriend’s eyes over Harry’s shoulder, and he looks anything but pleased.

“I’ll just be right out, I swear.” You say quickly, darting to your room to get changed.

You slip on a pair of jeans and huff in annoyance as you strip out of Harry’s stupid weed hoodie and put on a nice blouse instead. You spray yourself head to toe with perfume and brush your teeth twice to cover the smell of smoke sticking to you before shoving your feet into a pair of flats and rejoining the boys in the living room.

“You ready to go?” Your boyfriend asks hurriedly, standing from the couch and effectively cutting Harry off in the middle of whatever they were talking about.

“Um, yeah,” You stutter, grabbing your purse and turning to Harry, “You can lock up when you leave, yeah?”

“Yup, don’t even worry about it,” He nods, “You two have fun, but not too much fun.” He jokes, making your boyfriend grimace.

You fake smile, waving goodbye and nearly dragging your boyfriend out of your apartment and to his car parked outside. He’s still looking at you incredulously as you collapse into the car beside him and he starts it up, driving to the entrance of your complex.

He finally breaks the silence when you hit the first red light, “You never mentioned your uh-“

“I know, he’s um, he’s a lot,” You explain, trying to carefully word your next thought, “We’ve been friends for a long time.”

“He seems like a nice enough guy,” He shrugs, “Didn’t really strike me as someone you’d be best friends with however.”

“Yeah, it’s just um, you know we’ve been hanging out for so long he just kind of-“

“Sticks around and hotboxes your apartment?” He remarks, the judgement dripping from his voice.

Your stomach twists in the worst way when the words come out of his mouth. There it is, the sentence you were waiting for. The one that confirms he thinks of Harry exactly the way you thought he would. Harry is loud, and obnoxious, and stoned ninety percent of the time but he’s your best friend in the whole world. He’s held your hair over the toilet while you puked up vodka soda more times than you’d like to count, and you don’t even want to try and think of how many movie marathons you’ve had at each other’s houses till ungodly hours of the night. You love that son of a bitch, no matter how many girls he fucks in the backseat of his old ass Mustang or how many times he bums five bucks off you for a Whopper when he’s got the munchies, he’s your best friend, and maybe he’s right about mister perfect.

You walk back in your apartment expecting to see Harry still sprawled on the couch with the remote in his hand but he’s nowhere to be found. You trudge your feet back to your bedroom and grab his Higgs hoodie off the ground, stripping out of your blouse and pulling the hoodie back over your head. You dial his number as you collapse on your bed, laying upside down with your feet pressed to the wall.

“What’s up?” He asks right away, not even bothering to say hello, “How was your lunch date?”

“Definitely could’ve gone better.” You sigh, sitting back up when you feel the blood rushing to your head.

“What happened? Did he order unseasoned chicken and steamed cauliflower?” He teases.

“No,” You laugh, rolling your eyes, “I uh, I broke up with him.”

You can hear the shuffle of movement on the other side of the phone and you can picture him sitting up quickly from laying down on his back just like you are, “No the fuck you didn’t.”

“Yes the fuck I did.” You chuckle, rolling over onto your stomach.

“Wow,” He sighs, “What finally made you put the last nail in the coffin?”

“Remember when you asked how the sex was?” You grimace, covering your blushing face with your hand even though he can’t see you.

“Yeah.” He says uneasily, and you can almost hear the smirk in his voice.

“Well there wasn’t any,” You gulp, awaiting his reaction, “We didn’t-“

“You guys never fucked?” He asks suddenly, cutting you off, “Y/N, you dated that guy for six months.”

“Believe me, I know.” You laugh, trying to break through the awkward air.

“You haven’t had sex in six months?” He asks again, clearly not able to wrap his head around the thought.

“Yes Harry, say it a little louder for your neighbors, would you?” You joke, tying your hair up in a bun on top of your head.

“God, what a piece of fucking Wonderbread,” He chuckles, cracking himself up with his own joke from earlier, “Six months Y/N, that’s like, that should be illegal.”

“Probably going to be a lot longer now.” You mumble, walking to the kitchen to grab a tub of ice cream out of the freezer.

“Longer? No way, I’m not letting you do that to yourself,” He laughs, “We’re going out tonight and I’m gonna wingman you so hard you’ll definitely-“

“No, no, no,” You sigh, cutting him off, “You know I don’t do that shit Harry, I’m not going to have sex with a total stranger.” You say through a mouthful of ice cream.

“Well, I mean, we could,” He says, “I’m not a stranger.”

You nearly choke on the huge bite of ice cream in your mouth when the words come out of his mouth. You almost drop the giant spoon in your hand as you set the ice cream down and press your phone to your ear to make sure you hear him properly.

“I’m sorry, did you just fucking say-“

“Y/N, it makes perfect sense,” He reasons, “We know each other, too well probably, and I’ve heard you complain after mediocre sex enough to know what you want.”

“No way! No you’re not-“

“And you’ve seen me naked plenty of times and I was there when you got that ass tattoo so I’ve basically seen you in the nude-“

“That is not the same thing.” You cut in.

“It’s close enough!” He laughs, “All I’m saying is I fucking know what I’m doing, and I could make you feel good Y/N, something you apparently haven’t experienced in six. Fucking. Months.”

You close your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose and trying to make your mind think straight. You can’t do this, this is fucking insane right? Fucking your best friend? Fucking Harry? You can’t have sex with Harry, he’s fucking Harry!

“Okay,” You say uneasily and fucking dammit if your subconscious didn’t just slam her face into the wall, “Just this once?”

“Just this once,” He confirms, “Unless of course you want to go for round two-“

“Don’t get your hopes up, Styles,” You warn, wanting to knock yourself out before you actually agree to something this insane, “Can you be at my place in twenty minutes?”

“Twenty minutes?” He scoffs, “Y/N, there is an art to this, you think I just wake up and look this good? For the full experience I’ve got to shower and shave and-“

“You’ve got half an hour until there is a strong possibility that I will change my mind.”

“Ugh, fine,” He sighs, and you swear you can hear him rolling his eyes, “I’ll be there in fifteen.”

As soon as you hang up the phone, your mind is whirling. Fifteen minutes. You’ve got fifteen minutes until your best friend of six years is going to show up on your doorstep with every intention of seeing you naked. God. What have you done?

You hurry to your bathroom and brush your teeth first, gargling with mouth wash twice and checking your breath afterwards. Your hands are nearly shaking as you take your hair down from the bun on your head and you run your fingers through it, trying to sort out the tangles. Does it look better up? Will that make the act easier if your hair isn’t like all over the place? Does leaving it down look too nice?

You shake your head in frustration and decide to leave it down as you walk back to your room and start shuffling through your dresser. What do you wear to have sex with your friend for the first time? Do you put on nice underwear or does that look like you’re trying too hard? You definitely don’t wear tan, seamless boyshorts, that’s for sure. You wriggle out of your underwear and slide into a plain black thong instead. Not lace, not too fancy, and definitely not matching your bra but at least it’s not spanx.

Do you put your jeans back on? Or just stay in his hoodie and some underwear? That’s hot right? Are you supposed to be hot? Harry’s not going to think you’re hot whether you’re dressed in nothing but a thong anyways.

There’s a knock on the front door and you nearly jump out of your skin. God, he’s here. You try to make a split-second decision to throw on a pair of shorts until the knocking sounds again and you realize he’s locked out. You decide against the stupid shorts and walk back out to the living room, bracing yourself for what’s about to happen. You could just not answer the door, tell him you fell asleep. It’s happened before, he’d believe you, wouldn’t he?

“Y/N! It’s fucking cold out here!” He calls, banging his fist against the door.

You sigh, taking in a deep breath as you walk down the hallway to the front door and slide open the lock, pulling it open. The cold air hits you like a brick wall and Harry’s face lights up upon seeing you before he shuffles past you into the warmth of your apartment.

He’s still rubbing his hands together as he drops his skateboard inside and slides his backpack off one shoulder when your eyes rake over him, trying to compare his appearance to yours. He’s in a plain pair of grey basketball shorts and his favorite Thrasher hoodie with a red hat pulled backwards over his unruly hair. He’s anything but dressed up for the occasion and that’s perfectly fine by you, you didn’t sign up for the full Harry Styles experience.

“God it’s warm in here,” He groans, reaching for the thermostat to bump it down a few degrees, “You know, if you wore pants around the house you could probably save loads on your electric bill.”

You can’t find it in yourself to come up with something equally witty to throw back at him like you usually do. He’s still cracking up at his own joke as he strips out of his hoodie and you’re surprised to see his torso bare underneath. That’s fine, you’ve seen Harry shirtless before, many times actually, but this isn’t like those times, is it?

He turns to look at you over his shoulder as he bends down to his backpack, grabbing his pack of pre-rolled joints and lighting one between his teeth. He stands back up with the joint between his teeth and puffs a cloud of smoke in your direction to which you roll your eyes and shove him.

“So, are we doing this?” He asks, quirking his eyebrow up at you as he leads you the rest of the way into your apartment.

“I um, I don’t know, I think this was a bad idea we should just-“

“Oh, no you don’t.” He laughs, cutting you off.

You’re caught off guard as he takes the joint out of his mouth, balancing it between his two fingers and leans into you, pressing you into the wall and smashing his lips onto yours. He shotguns a puff of smoke into your mouth and you only cough a little bit, making him laugh as you swallow roughly. Suddenly his lips are moving against yours and holy fuck you’re making out with your best friend, you’re making out with Harry.

His free hand reaches to grip your waist, holding you in place against the wall as his other hand rests beside your head against the drywall, still gripping the smoking joint between his fingers. His hand hikes up the side of his hoodie, grabbing your naked hip and dragging his dull fingernails over your skin while his mouth continues moving with yours. You’ve definitely never been kissed like this before, with this much skill and rhythm and the perfect amount of tongue but of course he’s a good kisser Y/N, he’s had more than enough practice you remind yourself.

It’s not until his lips move away from yours and instead start to trail down your neck that you’re suddenly painfully aware that this is Harry. Your best friend, Harry Styles, is kissing down your neck and fuck is he biting your throat and making your fucking knees buckle.

“Harry?” You gasp, wishing your voice wasn’t so strained.

“Yeah?” He says, stopping his assault and looking up to meet your eyes, “What? Too much teeth? I’ll dial it back-“

“No, no,” You sigh, trying to clear your head, “Just enough teeth, I just um-“

“Want me to take off the hat?” He suggests, grabbing it by the bill and tossing it behind him, “The hair is part of the experience, baby.” He grins cheekily.

“No, Harry, god,” You huff, rolling your eyes, “I just um, I don’t know if I can do this, what if this ruins our friendship? Like what if I give you a bad blowjob and you just-“

“Woah, woah, woah,” He says, taking a drag, “For one, I wouldn’t friend dump you over a shitty blowjob and two, you’re not going to be giving any blowies you dolt, tonight is about you and making sure you get a hefty dose of orgasm to last you through the next six months.”

“Who’s saying it’s going to have to last me another six months?” You scoff, hitting him in the arm.

“I’m just helping you prepare for the worst,” He laughs, blowing another cloud of smoke into your face, “Now will you please relax and let me finish my artistic masterpiece on your neck?”

You roll your eyes as you lean back against the wall behind you and tilt your head back, allowing him further access to the skin of your throat. He grins, those stupid dimples indenting his cheeks as he leans back down and surprises you by grabbing the back of your neck and capturing your lips with his once again. His hands reach for the hem of his hoodie on your body, dragging it up and over your head, leaving you in nothing but your bright blue bra and black thong.

“Really pulled out all the stops, huh?” He teases, snaking his finger under your bra strap and snapping it against your skin.

“Says the guy in the basketball shorts.” You smirk, reaching forward to snap the band of his shorts against his hip.

The grin on his face is every bit devious as he grabs your hips, pulling you to him and ducking his head down to press his lips to yours once again. Suddenly the friction between the two of you is undeniable and you nearly hit the ground when Harry takes your bottom lip between his teeth.

“Bedroom?” He pants, hardly pulling away from your lips long enough to get the single word out.

“Mhm.” You hum, reverberating the word right back into his mouth as your lips move together.

He walks the both of you towards your bedroom door, still swung open from your hurried dash to get the door when he arrived. He nearly trips on two pairs of your shoes, swearing under his breath as he kicks them out of the way and leads you to the bed until the backs of your calves hit the mattress.

He pushes you down against the bed and your heart is nearly hammering out of your chest for the few seconds that you’re laying there, staring up at him and his swollen lips and blown out irises. Who is this man in front of you? This isn’t your high school best friend that used to put carrots up his nose at lunch and help you onto the roof of his house so you guys could smoke without his parents knowing. But it is.

“You good?” He asks sincerely, kneeling in between your legs at the foot of the bed.

“Yup, just fine.” You quip, trying to steady your breathing before he’s close enough to hear your heart beating out of your chest.

“God Y/N, you have got to relax.” He sighs, his hands running over your legs from your ankles to your thighs.

“Sorry if this is just,” You pant, closing your eyes briefly, “Just a lot to wrap my head around, okay?”

He laughs and you know he’s making a that’s what he said joke in his head as he leans back over you, pressing his lips to your collar bone and then traveling further down your chest.

“Would it be better if you weren’t looking at me?” He asks, looking up to meet your eyes as he drags your underwear off you, “Think you could relax if you couldn’t see me?”

“I mean, maybe, but how-“

“Here, get up.” He says simply, cutting you off and throwing your underwear over his shoulder.

You’re caught off guard as he instructs you to stand back up and he resumes your spot on the bed, his feet hanging off the edge quite a bit more than yours were.

“Come over here.” He says, reaching for your hand and you nearly feel like passing out as you kneel on the edge of the bed and crawl over to him, your naked ass in the air.

“What are you-“

“Put this one here,” He instructs, grabbing your right knee and placing it right beside his head, “And put this one right here.” He continues, grabbing your left knee and trying to drag it over his face to rest on the other side of his head.

“What? No! Harry!” You stutter, swatting his hand away but he grabs your leg tighter, meeting your eyes.

“Come on Y/N, just ride my face, then you won’t be looking at me while I-“

“Do not finish that sentence.” You warn, your chest heaving as you wrap your arms around yourself to try to cover up at least a little.

“Y/N,” He says softly, his hand reaching out to grab your hip, “Do you trust me?”

You look up from the comforter beneath your knees to meet his stern eyes. There’s not an ounce of teasing in his voice, no digs or cracking jokes, he’s sincere and you’re not sure you’ve ever seen him look this serious.

“If at any point you want me to stop, you just say the word and we’ll be done, we can put on a movie and act like this never happened, I swear,” He says, squeezing your hip for emphasis, “But for now, can you just give me a chance?”

You sigh, sitting back on your heels and staring at the ceiling fan whirring above you. This is insane. Sit on his face? Ride his face? He wants you to put that on his mouth, what if you fucking suffocate him?

“How do I do this again?” You sigh, looking back down to meet his eyes.

He grins, grabbing your left knee once again and passing it over his face, placing it on the other side of his head. You cringe, preparing yourself to look down and see none other than fucking Harry’s face between your thighs.

“You good?” He asks again and the warmth of his breath directly on your core makes your thighs clench.

“Just great,” You grimace, “Are you going to uh, get started down there, or?”

“You’ve got to sit down first love,” He laughs, his hands reaching around to grab your hips, “Can’t really reach you from way up there.”

Love. That’s new. Harry has definitely never called you love. You can’t tell if he’s saying it to comfort you because at this point, he can probably feel your heartbeat thumping in every cell of your body, many of which happen to be sitting on him at the current moment. You let out yet another sigh, bracing yourself as you lean off your knees, and onto the backs of your feet instead.

“Like this?” You ask cautiously, trying to keep yourself balanced on your heels so you don’t crush him.

“Just like that,” He says, nodding his head and his nose brushes your clit, making you jump, “Shit, sorry.”

“Careful, Styles.” You breathe, your legs already shaking.

You look down and meet his eyes, your cheeks instantly going aflame as he smirks at you with that stupid dimpled smile. His hair is splayed out beneath him, his eyes hooded as his hands move from your hips to your thighs, holding you in place as he licks one bold stripe up the center of your heat.

“Christ.” You sigh, your eyes falling closed as you suck in a sharp breath.

You hear him chuckle beneath you as he continues his assault, his hands locked around your jittering thighs as he licks up and down you, swirling his tongue in all the right ways. He sucks your bud into his mouth, pressing sloppy kisses to your core as he catches his breath before delving back into your heat.

“H-Higher.” You pant, leaning back on your hands that are firmly pressed to his chest behind you.

“Here?” He asks, licking a few stripes at just the perfect spot.

“Fuck, yes, right there,” You breathe heavily, moving one of your hands from his chest to thread through his hair, “Back and forth, horizontal.” You pant, hoping he understands what you mean.

His tongue starts flicking back and forth across the perfect spot and you nearly lose your balance and fall forward at the surge of pleasure in the pit of your stomach. His arms reach up and grab your hips, holding you upright as you shudder, your eyes screwed shut. He continues the movement, darting back and forth between it and the sloppy kisses he resorts to in order to catch his breath as he reaches up your back to the clasp of your bra. He snaps it open with a quick flick of his skilled fingers and tosses it to the side, your full chest finally on display.

“Did you just manage to get my bra off in the middle of all this?” You gasp, your eyes fluttering open to meet his, still trained on you.

“It’s all in the wrist.” He teases, purposefully nudging you with his nose this time.

You roll your eyes, reaching down to cover his face, wishing he would stop staring at you with that dimpled smirk on his face while his fucking mouth does ungodly things to your clit.

“That’s the spirit,” He smirks, “This is much hotter.”

“God, would you please shut up and put your mouth to better use?” You groan, uncovering his eyes once again.

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” He jokes, returning his tongue to where you need him most, your knees buckling almost instantly.

It’s only a couple seconds of that flicking movement that has you shuddering above him. He reaches up to tease your nipples, making you gasp and have to lean back on his chest once again. He’s smirking proudly as you come undone above him, your thighs threatening to clench together and absolutely squish his head, but he couldn’t care less. Your lip is nearly purple you’re biting down on it so hard and Harry notices. You’re keeping your moans contained but he won’t be having any of that, you better tell him how good he’s making you feel.

He leans you back to sit on his chest rather than kneeling over his face as you ride out your orgasm and you’re just about to ask him what the hell he’s doing when he pushes a finger into you. You nearly jump out of your skin at the overstimulation and your hands plant themselves firmly on the mattress on either side of his hips.

“Feel good?” He asks, trying to drag it out of you as he adds another finger, pumping into you relentlessly, and you involuntarily whimper.

“Mhm.” You nod, biting your lip once again as his fingers curl inside you and your back arches, nearly tipping you over the edge for a second time already.

“For fuck’s sake, let me hear you, Y/N.” He grunts, adding his thumb to rub against your clit as his two fingers continue curling inside of you.

“God, Harry, fuck,” You sputter, trying to get the words out, “Fuck me.”

“You want me to stop?” He asks, clearly not following, “Want me to fuck you instead?”

“No, asshat,” You pant, “Fingers, fuck me, don’t just curl them, in and out, you follow?”

He’s laughing as he nods, flipping his hair out of his face as he starts to pump his fingers in and out of you once again. You throw your head back in ecstasy, still balancing on your hands and gripping the duvet in your fists.

“Better?” He asks.

“Much.” You breathe.

You move one hand from the mattress to grab him over his basketball shorts and he hisses through his teeth, his head suddenly falling back against the mattress.

“No,” He grunts, pulling himself back up to meet your eyes, “This is about you-“

“I know.” You nod, cutting him off.

He’s staring at you wide eyed as you palm him through his shorts, not that he needs any help, he’s already standing at stark attention against the waistband of his shorts.

“Doesn’t mean you can stop though, Styles.” You smirk and he lets out a chuckle as he resumes.

“Yes ma’am.” He teases, rubbing his thumb back and forth against your clit perfectly.

The repeated movement is just enough to push you over the edge with the added stimulation of his fingers pumping in and out of you. You nearly collapse backwards but his arms reach out and wrap around your waist, holding you to his chest.

“I got you.” He laughs, and you fall forward instead, collapsing against his chest as he falls back against the bed.

You feel numb all over in the best way. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, your entire head, your chest, your arms, your entire body is beating in time with the incessant thumping. You can’t remember the last time you felt this light, you’re floating, or maybe you’re lightheaded. Suddenly the room is a thousand degrees and you feel steaming hot to the touch.

“You okay?” He asks, brushing your hair behind your ear, “I can hear your heart beating.”

“Just got to,” You pant, swallowing hard, “Gotta catch my breath.”

“Makes sense,” He smirks, his arms snaking around your waist, “I have been told my services are rather breathtaking.”

You sit up, grabbing the closest pillow and stuff it over his face to which he flails beneath you, reaching around you to smack your bare ass. You nearly jump out of your skin, ripping the pillow from over his face to see him laughing hysterically, his hair an absolutely fucked out mess.

“Did you just-“

“You are not about to get offended that I smacked your ass,” He scoffs, grabbing your face and pulling your mouth to his with those stupid dimples popping from his cheeks, “That ass was smothering my face not even twenty minutes ago, love.”

***

You’re spinning in your desk chair, quite obviously avoiding the Economics homework pulled up on your computer when your phone buzzes on your desk beside you. You pick it up expectantly, but the name Noah flashes across the screen rather than the name you’ve been waiting for all day.

You lean back in your chair, staring up at the ceiling and sighing before muttering a quick, “Fuck it,” and picking up your phone once again.

You dial the number easily, it’s number one on your favorites list after all and he picks up by the second ring, “This another booty call?” He teases and you hope to god that he’s alone if he’s talking like that.

“I told you you’re not allowed to answer the phone like that.” You huff, getting up from your desk and wandering out to the kitchen to grab a snack.

“You also said I was absolutely never allowed to fuck your face but what did we do the other-“

“Harry shut the fuck up!” You squeak, your cheeks suddenly flaming.

“I’m just proving my point, love.” He laughs, sniffling slightly and you can tell he’s outside.

“What are you doing right now?” You ask uneasily, biting your lip.

“Skateboarding.”

“To where?” You question further, hoping he doesn’t call you on the carpet for asking so many.

“Wait for it,” He chuckles, his breath puffing out quicker as he picks up speed.

“Wait for wha-“

Suddenly you’re cut off as there’s a knock on the door and then he’s walking through it, his cheeks rosy and his hair a wind-whipped mess.

“You rang?” He laughs, dropping his skateboard.

“Oh, thank god, the friend with benefits I ordered.” You fawn dramatically, batting your eyelashes as you cross the space between the two of you.

“Hey,” He snaps, grabbing you by the backs of your thighs and hoisting you into his arms, “I am a self-proclaimed long-term booty call and I will stand for nothing less.”

“You wouldn’t be standing for a whole lot of anything if you would hurry up and get us into my room already,” You smirk, throwing your arms over his shoulders, “Mister long term booty call.”

“Now you’re getting it, sweetheart.” He mocks, finally leaning forward and capturing your lips with his, walking the two of you back to your room and kicking the door closed with his foot.

***

so like this obviously has a lot of potential for a part two and was HEAVILY requested so if you’d like that send me some ideas to include in a part two what do you guys want to see and also maybe get this to 1000 notes?? That’d be sick

love u guys

pls appreciate my sacrifice I was supposed to go to bed ages ago I work in 4 hours

#harry #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles au #harry styles oneshot #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #mltbc

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amnachil · 4 years

Text

To the perfection Chapter 2 Part 2

Enjoy :)

Cody Monday March 11

He gulped, absolutely not ready for it. Monday morning were usually rough. But this one was special in every way. Not only they were forced to attend school this week because they had hours to catch up in order to make a trip later this year, but he was going to see Thomas. I don't know what got into me. I don't know why I went up against him during the game. Cody wasn't ready to face Thomas, but he had to. Next to him, Joël finished a video about cats and laughed loudly.

"I can't help but watch it again and again." he said. "This kitty is so cute !"

Thankfully, he was stupid enough to not notice Cody wasn't listening. Because their friend was coming closer. Oh man. Thomas was smiling. His usual bright smile, which could enlighten your whole day. The smile Cody fell for.

"Hi Joël." he said. "Let's go inside, it's freezing."

Wait. "Hi Joël" ? Seriously ? So that was his punishment. Of course, the ginger couldn't ignore him more than he already did.

"I saw the video you sent yesterday." continued Thomas. "The cat is incredibly cute !"

"Ah ! I know right ?!" exclaimed their friend.

It was childish. Stupid. He's just pretending to care to hurt me. I know that. So why was it so painful ? He looked at his buddies while they entered in the highschool. They looked exactly like in these memories. Back when Thomas was talking openly with them. Back when he was the sun in Cody's life. And piece by piece, I can literally feel my heart crumbles. Because he knew those times wouldn't come back ever again.

The day went awfully slowly. Thomas was purposely more talktative with everyone. He laughed to every single joke Joël did. He talked politely to the teachers. He even held the door for the girls in each class. Well, he was literally shining. And everyone wanted to be part of it. Their classmates and their professors all fell for it. Someone said the ginger was back to his old self. Cody resisted to his urge to punch the poor soul. Everything is an act. He just wants to make me suffer, right ? How come Joël wasn't suspecting anything ? This dude had zero braincell or what ? Finally, for their last hour, their science teacher made a comment.

"You're extremely nice today." he pointed out. "Are you hiding something ?"

"Does a man need a reason to be nice ?" smiled Thomas. "Besides, I'm always nice."

"Well, let's say you're extra shiny today." confessed Darren. "Are you in love or something ?"

Cody froze for a second. Nah, that's not possible. The class laughed. Yeah, their professor only made a little joke. But the dark-haired lad noticed his friend's twitch. No way. Is it even possible ? It was highly unlikely. But what if ? The idea was already settling in Cody's mind.

"Dude, I understand shit and you're not helping if you are stargazing."

The teennager turned towards Ilhan. Right, they were working here.

"Sorry." he mumbled. "I got distracted. Anyway, where were we ?"

"I don't know anymore. I'm just lost."

Cody frowned. He looked closely at his friend. He looked so tired, so depressed. Whatever was going on, it wasn't good. He completely let himself go... Ilhan was definitely tubby now. His too-tight vest wasn't fit to hide such a paunch. And several times, Cody had spotted the man in a bloated state. Is it what they call stress-eating ? The nurse would turn completely crazy during the next check-up. I should help him. It would be nice to feel useful to someone. And maybe that way, I can't forget Thomas for a bit. Well, it was just a lie. And to say tomorow is my birthday...

Dan Wednesday March 13 – Thursday March 14

The day hadn't been good. His college's professor had told him his grades were too low. I won't graduate like this. I need to improve my grades. So Dan was studying more despite the fact it was his only week of holidays. When he arrived at the gym this evening, he wasn't in the mood. Sandra offered to do only light exercises, and she let him in peace. He managed to do some stuff, but his mind was elsewhere. Well, until he noticed Thomas's friend coming his way. What is his name again ? I think it's Joël.

"Hey dude." greeted the teenager. "How've you been ?"

"Uh, fine. I'm struggling a bit with those weights."

"You're doing great man."

Seing Joël's biceps, this one could lift them up easily and he was just trying to make Dan feel better. Well, thank for the thought.

"Sooo you live with Thomy right ?" asked the lad.

Dan decided to stop his stupid training because he probably looked ridiculous. He stood up and glanced at his interlocutor. He was slightly taller and broad-shouldered. His hair were dark with blond strand, his eyes brown.

"Yeah." finally answered the college student.

"Okay so here's the deal." smiled Joël. "There are rumors saying our Thomy got a girlfriend but of course, he won't tell me. I'm just dying to know ! Damn, I can't be in the dark so please please please tell me ?"

He made puppy eyes which made Dan smile. This guy is cool.

"Sorry but I havn't heard anything on the subject." he assured. "And I doubt Thomas is seeing anyone right now. He's very busy between working out, helping Ilhan every night and stuff."

Joël made a face.

"Helping Ilhan every night ?" he repeated. "Cody said they stopped a moment ago since they're not really talking at school anymore."

"What ?"

Now Dan was lost too. I'm pretty sure he didn't lie when he told me he was going to Ilhan's place. So he lied to his friend ?

"Ah, that's cool." laughed Joël. "If Thomas is still helping him, I'm sure Ilhan will be rocking again soon !"

The college student nodded. I should just trust Thomy. I'm sure there is a good explanation behind this.

The next day, Dan exhausted himself with studying. This evening, he was so tired he decided to indulge more than usual. He ate his content pretty fast and then more. Thomas wasn't home yet, so he finished all the leftover. And then ordered two oversized pizzas. It wasn't very rational nor healthy, but he needed something to relax. He went though the first one lazily. The added weight forced him to lay down on the couch. The bloat was feeling nice. When he finished, he belched, kinda satisfied. Then he decided to try his luck with the second pizza. It was harder but still, he continued. His belly bulged and he needed to took off his pull over to let it expand. He felt his stomach took the free room. Honestly, Dan didn't know exactly how he managed to finish, but he did. Damn. He burped loudly. He tried to move, but that was painful. He had a tummy ache for sure. It was worth it anyway. He was trying to appease his angry belly when Thomas arrived.

"Oh. Looks like you already ate." he said.

Dan nodded, groggy. His friend sat next to him.

"Are you in pain ?"

"Yeah... Ate too much, too fast."

A soft hand entered in touch with his skin. Made a circle. Oooh. Good. Very good. He let out a moan against his will.

"I... I'll make you feel better." whispered Thomas, short-winded. "Just... Let me do it."

His friend rubbed his belly slowly, calmly. At first, it was timid but it became firmer. It feels so nice. Dan closed his eyes. Now he could digest peacefully. Slowly, he fell asleep.

Thomas Sunday March 17

Gregory wolfed down a burger like if it was nothing. His big mouth was very useful for this kind of thing. As for her, Shirley lowered her head, uneasy. The ginger bite his lips. Why on earth I agreed to come ? Dan arrived with his own order and sat next to him. Oh yeah, I recall now. Because he had done something terribly stupid four days ago. I rubbed his belly. I mean, I rubbed DAN's belly when he was conscious. It had been the happiest moment of his life. And the worst too. Because his crush had moaned Raphaël's name during his sleep. Of course, he was his boyfriend. It's pretty normal he thought about him. It had destroyed Thomas's heart. But it had also gave him hope. Because it means I can rub his belly again. I mean, I can rub DAN's belly again. All he had to do was pretend to be his brother.

"I can't do it." Shirley complained. "I'm not ready yet."

"Sis' you are more than ready." contradicted Dan. "You found a flat to rent, you've a job as a cashier and you're pulling yourself together very well."

"Agreed." added Gregory between two mouthful. "You're more than ready to talk to Sam."

Honestly, Thomas didn't care at all about Shirley, her ex and whatever. But since it was important to Dan, it mattered to him aswell.

"You're great." he assured with his brightest smile. "Go ahead and make peace."

She nodded, reassured by their cheerings. She stood up and went for Sam. The ginger felt Dan's shoulder press against his. It was just a friendly touch, but he got flustered anyway.

"I hope she'll be okay." he mumbled.

"Don't worry man, she's on the right way." Thomas stated. "And Gregory is here to watch her... I guess, because it seems like he can't get his eyes away from his burger."

The joke made them laugh. And the teenager felt genuinely happy.

Fast enough, the craving for more haunted him again. To press shoulders wasn't enough to satisfy his teenager's needs. He called Joël.

"Hi man. Sorry but I can't make it to the gym today."

"Whaaat ? But Cody and I are already there !" groused the other. "Man, not fair !"

Well, if this asshole is here, there is another reason why I can't come. Both his friends were Raphaël's pawns but at least Joël was too silly to be a bother. The leech on the other hand... I just hate him so much right now. He dared stand up against me.

"There's somewhere else I need to be." he said.

"Mmhm alrighty.... Wait Cody asks if you're going to Ilhan's place again ?"

For god's sake. He can't leave me alone, can he ? And how the hell did he know about this ?

"He's not my mom." Thomas replied. "I'm hanging up."

No sooner said than done. He didn't want Cody to stick his nose into his business. Anyway, Thomas went straight to Ilhan's home. He knocked at the door, and his friend's mother opened. She led him upstair, saying how much she was glad he was here. According to her, her son was going through a bad phase, and his help was more than welcome. She hoped he would help him get back in shape. Sure thing. Count on me. He barely waited for her to leave. And then, he jumped on Ilhan's bed, next to his friend. This one had already indulged in the pastries Thomas had sent earlier with a note. He was seemingly overstuffed.

"I did burp... what you asked." he muttered.

"Nice. Now I'll fuck you."

"Wait... Thomas. I just need to know, why are we doing this ? What are we even doing ?"

The ginger sighed, annoyed. Ilhan had so many questions, so many doubts ! They were just having fun !

"I don't understand why you're still so worried about everything." he said with a threatening tone. "Just let me fuck you and we're good, okay ?"

"O... Okay."

To be continued

Not much to say. Our feedees are doing their job. Dan rather willingly while Ilhan is well... not so sure about this.

And Thomas... Thomas doesn’t change. He’s not very nice to the people who annoys him. And that’s a lot of people.

#to the perfection #TP #Cody #Dan #Thomas #stuffing #weight gain #Dan stuffs his face again #Cody is in troubles #with Thomas the star of highschool #Joel doesn't understand a thing right ?#Chapter 2 #Part 2

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lanaarwenlazar · 6 years

Text

in honor of villain releasing and me starting it later today, here is a special insight into my brain in the form of the notes i made on my phone as i was reading monster last year, completely unedited (so with all my spelling mistakes and freakouts)

there are spoilers for monster, obviously

(keep in mind that i was very emotional about being back in the gone-universe, so don’t judge me lmao)

i ship malik and shade already. can’t habdle them they’re too cute

oh my god shade is basically a true crime fan, thanks i hate it

“WHATEVER MALIK DID IT GENERALLT SOMEHOW WORK” MY LOVE

...it will be interesting to see what people have to say about mg writing his first trans character

transphobic violence already, i think someone will have a problem with this chapter being called “the meet cute”

where

dekka

WHAT THE FUCK SHADE WHAT ARE YOU DOING YOURE INSANE

I WAS RIGHT BY THE WAY THE MOVIE SUCKED AND WAS A BAD IDEA AND I HOPE ASTRID AND SAM ARE SUFFERING AND HAVE NO FRIENDS

nooo dekka sweetie :(((

oh my god a dekka chapter what if we get updates on everyone i’m not ready

dekka is broke no :(((

but she drives a motorcycle i’m so in love

dekka has a cat. marry me

“Of those three hundred thirty-two kids, fifty-one developed one supernatural power or another. Only nineteen of you developed major powers and survived. And of these nineteen, seven have since developed serious psychological disorders” NO MY KIDS IM CRYING

“Lana Lazar spent time in a mental health facility” eeelp

“I know, she’s a friend of mine. She’s fine now.” THEY ARE FRIEND.jzoddbfb

“Others’ like Sam Temple, the supposed hero of the fayz, have had-”

HAVE HAD WHA TOM??!!!?!

“’Supposed hero?’ Screw you. You don’t disrespect Sam Temple where I can here it.” I’m 😭😭😭😭😭😭

sam was in rehab has an alcoholic kill me

and he’s on the wagon sober for sixteen months ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

DEKKA REMEMBERINH BRIANNA KILL ME

Hey, Sam’s sober and Astird got her head screwed on straight so leave them out of this - dekka out there defending her people

MG in the online: edilio is the true hero of the fayz MG in the books: sam is the true hero of the fayz me: so what is the truth?

oh my god that just means edilio is still underappreciated

DEKKA WANTS SAM AND ASTRID TO GO TO COLLEGE WORK AND ONE DAY HAVE A BABY GIRL NAMED DEKKA WHAT THE FUCK SHOOT ME

Me @ me: mg loves edilio. he will be in here. mg loves edilio. he will be in here. mg loves edilio. he will be in here. mg loves edilio. he will be-

Four year old Sean is here to cause trouble

Cruz singing my love ❤️❤️

We’ve literally just met him and Justin DeVeere already sounds like a potential school shooter

also how dare mg give him the same name as justin roger’s little brother

He’s so disgusting yikes

I don’t understand what just happened and what erin and justin are up to but WHY do i feel like they just had sex so they could have a gaia-like baby

is justin turning into the hulk or orc

Justins arm is turning into a sword

Is justin turning into drake...

Or orc/britney? Orc/britney/justin?

If Aristotle Arno Adamo is anything like Ari from Aaddtsotu i already love him

oh he’s not

Armo is the Quinn of Monster pass it on

Will Quinn be mentioned in this book?

“Armo was not part of any clique, because there was one, only one Armo at Malibu High School” oh my god he’s awful i love him

“I want to take Danish. My family is danish” bitch mine too

“You understand that everyone in Denmark speaks english right? Usually better than most Americans?” drag america i love t

god i love him

armo just survived a serious accident and he’s crying because he wreacked his car whaya guy

what are they doing to armo :(((

SHADE WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT

noo poor cruz

whyy would mg introduce malik tenerife, the biggest sweetheart and shade’s closest friend and make me fall in love with him, and then in the SAME CHAPTER introduce cruz, a new best friend for shade and then just never mention malik again???? i love cruz but i miss malik

where is knightmare

“I REREAD THE ELLISON BOOK” ASTRID WROTE A BOOK

yikes a milady dude and homophobia all in one page!!

WHY IS EVERYONE IN THIS BOOK JUST TRANSFORMING INTO BOOKS

oh shit i just understood why mg says this is part animorphs

Malik’s back my boy

DEKKAS CAT IS NAMED EDITH WINDSOR I JUST----

DEKKA TOOK THE FRAMED PICTURE OF BRIANNA WITH HER OH MY GODDD

“Only now did Dekka see that those last four years had been a dream, unreal, somehow. The FAYZ was real.” dekka bby no :(((

oh my goooood taylor is back bitches i just got chills

SHE GRABBED THE CELEBRITY GOSSIP MAGAZINES OF COURSE SHE DID I LOVE HER

dekka be nice to taylor she’s had a hard life she deserves to know the goss :))

when they’re only talking baout the kids with power... when will edilio come in

aaaand there is drake ugh. “a violent, sadistic psychopath. A rapist. A torturer. A murderer”

EDILIO WAS THERE TOO THERE TOO THE FUCK

DID MG FORGET EDILIO ECISTS

BRIANNA DEKKA SAM ASTRID TAYLOR DRAKE LANA HUNTER ORC HAVE ALL BEN MENTIONED

WHERE IS EDILIO AND LANA

Drake responsible for 18 instances of rape mutilation and murder in the last year y i k e s

Justin has a lobster claw for one hand and a sword for the other o k a y

oh my god shade could kill tr*mp

“There are three types of superheroes, Shade: Hero, Villain and Monster” *looks into the camera like i’m on the office*

CAINE AND PENNY GOT THEIR MENTIONS

NOW GIVE ME EDILIO

Malik is still in love with shade rip me

oh no cruz bby you’re invisible :((

i feel like this series will be more hard sci-fi with aliens and government and powers than gone was, gone was more of a sci-fi/dystopian/lord of the flies/survival-mix

i’m worried about armo :((

me: had never read an animorphs book in my life also me: wow this reminds me so much of animorphs!

HES A POLAR BEAR NOW

THEY’RE LITERALLY SAYING THE WORD MORPHING

should be interesting to see what kind of shit mg will get for this y i k e s

WHAT THE FUCKKKKKK IS HAPØENING THE SEAN WAS HE TURNING INTO A CATERPILLAR WITH NO MOUTH WHAT THE FUCK HE IS FOUR YEARS OLD

OH THERES HIS MOUTH WHAT THE FUCK

fuuuuck i knew he would be knightmare

at least knightmare really is the name of a shitty pretentious art student dude

a group of girl scouts just fell to their deaths off the golden gate bridge

WHO ARE THE DARK WATCHERS

i actually think they’re aliens

pls get over brianna dekka

at least mg is realizing that brekka was kind of weird

why is dekka watching danish sex. what does that even mean.

this book is unrealistic bc it’s page number 208 and dekka still hasn’t thought about edilio. who goes that long without thinking about edilio.

oh no dekka is morphing with some animal too

DEKKA HAS MEDUSA HAIR WHAT THE FUCK

the cat died WHAT THE FUCK

“Motorcycle gangs and white supremacists and registered sex offenders, that’s who dominated Perdido Beach today” yikes

Dekka mentioned the word gaiaphage and i had a physical disgusted reaction, but not because of the actual gaiaphage, but bc of that fucking website. god i lvoe that gaiaphage.com is dead.

why has mg created a worldwide perdido beach situation but just given is three books to fix it

“I was Sam’s soldier” NO??? You wrre edilio’s soldier the fuck

EVERY TIME I SEE EDITH MY HEART SKIPS BECAUSE IT STARTS WITH EDI AND I THINK ITS FINALLY GOING TO BE EDILIO

Armo and Dekka is my new brotp

WHO THE FUCK IS JEHOVA

LESS VILLAIN POVS MICHAEL PLEASE

“Hey. You. Should. Um.... Stop. Being. An. Asshole.” SHADE

Combining the villains into one villain. Very schmart michael 👌🏻

PAGE 308 EDILIO MENTION OH MY GOD

Edilio on page 309 kill me cant even quote it

GRAVES STILL THERE

IN RESPECTFUL MEMORY TO BOTH THE WISE AND THE FOOLISH WHO STRUGGLED TO SURVIVE UNSPEAKABLE HORRORS IN THIS PLACE im 😭😭

ALBERT GOT HIS DUES YEAH

BUT HOW IS EDILIO TODAY

WHERE IS DINAA LOSER

GRAVE FOR MARY 😭

GRAVE FOR DUCK 😭

GRAVE FOR HUNTER 😭

GRAVE FOR ORC 😭

Grave for Caine 😐 “Caine Soren. “King of the FAYZ. Blaze of Glory”

FIRST DIANA MENTION AND ITS HOW MUU CAINE LOVED HER IM

BRIANNA HAS A LAST NAME SOS. “Brianna Berenson. “The Breeze”. None More Bold.”

DIANA IS HERE I REPEAT DIANA IS HERE IN THE FLESH AND STILL BEAUTIFUL

DIANA PUTS FLOWERS ON THE GRAVES ONCE A WEEK OH MY HOD YOU HAVE NOTHING TO BE SORRY ABOUT I MEAN YOU DID GIVE BIRTH TO GAIA AND EAT PANDA BUT STILL

DIANA HAS A JOB AS A BARISTA HER OWN PLACE IS SEVEN MONTHS SOBER AND HAVENT TRIED TO KILL HERSELF LATELY

WAS HER AND SAM DRINKING BUDDIES

THEY SERVE A SAM TEMPLE CUCKTAIL AND A LANA VODKA

“I GUESS THEIRONY THAT FAYZERS HAVE A TENDENCY TO DRINK TOO MUCH IS LOST ON THEM” TELL THEM DEKKA

“YOU WERE GOOD TO KEEP SAM AND STRID OUT OF IT” NO TELL THEM LOSERS

DOES DIANA LIVE IN PERDIDO BEACH :((((

“THIS IS THE MOST INTIMATE IVE EVER BEEN WITH A DUDE” SAME

When Roger still hasn’t been mentioned and you know he wasn’t really that important so you can’t really complained but you miss him

and how is edilio really dekka hmmm???

Eww this Drake Brittany thing is worse if possible

wait wait wait what hoe did they get there what

if i finish monster and still don’t know how edilio is doing i’ll sue

the villain...breathes fire. he’s a dragon

Shade looks like a the bizzare cross between a flea, a Power Ranger and a teenaged girl w h a t

Vincent Vu: part fish!

noooo not malik :(((

one half of me: where the fck is edilio go talk to him dekka other half of me: edilio deserves a peaceful life thank i for keeping him away from it all

OKAY BUT WOULD EDILIO AND SAM AND EVERYONE SEE DEKKA ON THE FBI MOST WANTED LIST AND HEAR ABOUT EVERYTHING GOING ON AND SAY YIKES NOT OUR PROBLEM??? No tf they would help her!!!!

DEKKA IS WITH SAM DEKKA IS WITH SAM I REPEAT DEKKA IS WITH SAM AND HE IS HER STRONG RIGHT ARM SHOOT ME LET ME DIE

im emo

the end

missing: quinn and roger

#gone series #just a warning this is a really long list of notes siukfdsasdkf #hightlighst include: this book is unrealistic nobody goes this long without thinking about edilio #Shade looks like a bizzare cross between a flea a power ranger and a teenaged girl #and ''why is dekka watching danish sex. what does that even mean''#i recommend this for gone-fans who doesn't want to read monster but wants to know what it's all about #and for people who have read monster and need a dumb refreshed before villain

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