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daniellesimagines · 10 months

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Where You Go (Eddie Munson)

word count: 13,130 requested by: absolutely no one pronouns: she/her warnings: lots of swears (sorry), major character death, mentioned character deaths, mentions of murder and dying in a fire, mentions of depression and weed, survivor’s guilt, wildly non-canonical timeline (im serious yall, there are a lot of creative liberties taken with that one), also yn is 18!!! (not tryna commit any crimes here @ fbi) fandom: stranger things au type: high school summary: you have a crush on eddie; the only problem is he’s only interested in your best friend. however, a tragic event brings you two together in more ways than you bargained for inspired by: dream, also heavily inspired by/using scenes from season 4 (i use tvshowtranscripts for exact lines and they don’t put who said it, so i’m sorry if some are wrong!!) authors notes: i’m trying a thing where i don’t split this up into parts, so i hope it’s not too long!!! also this is my first eddie fic so pls be nice to me :((( other parts: none

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Hawkins High School was nothing if not predictable.

When movies and TV portrayed what it was like to be a teenager, you were sure they’d gotten their ideas straight from your school. Sports were everything, the popular cheerleaders dated the star athletes, the weird kids were outcast from the rest, and you were just...there.

You weren’t a particularly gifted student, nor were you fairly well-known, and you certainly weren’t athletic. To be honest, you only had one friend. You met your best friend in elementary school, her being on your bus route just one stop before yours.

Chrissy Cunningham was everything you weren’t, but she still kept you around. If it weren’t for the fact that you lived so close and were able to create such a strong bond at an early age, you honestly would have thought she just stayed because she felt sorry for you.

But that wasn’t who Chrissy was.

Chrissy was a fiercely loyal friend, and that only grew once you entered high school. She made the cheer squad freshman year – becoming popular pretty much right away – but she never let it come between her friendship with you. Upon entering your senior year, Chrissy became cheer captain and subsequently caught the attention of everyone in school.

And that included Eddie Munson.

Eddie had always been a character, often interrupting lunches with passionate speeches about the popular crowds and how they excluded anyone different than them. You knew he had a club that met after school, though you didn’t know much other than it was about Dungeons & Dragons. You always had a bit of a crush on him – sure, he could be obnoxious and he was on his third try of making it to graduation, but he was friendly and cute and had no problem talking back to people like Jason Carver.

You wish you could say you were surprised when Chrissy started offhandedly mentioning that she’d been hanging out with Eddie every once in a while. You would listen to her talk about something funny he did or said, plastering on the fake interest as she spoke.

Yeah, you were jealous.

But you knew you had no right to be.

Chrissy had no idea you had a crush, and you knew her relationship with Jason only continued to please her overbearing mother, so you wanted nothing more than for her to finally be happy for once.

But that didn’t mean it didn’t sting whenever she mentioned seeing him.

“Hey, I’ll be right back,” Chrissy told you after setting her lunch tray down at the spot across from you, “I have to go talk to Eddie about something.”

You barely nodded, but it didn’t matter since she didn’t even look at you before trotting toward the Hellfire table. You kept your gaze on your lunch tray as your best friend’s voice rang through your ears again.

“Eds!” she chirped, “Do you have a second?”

“Chris!” he smiled back, “What’s up?”

Oh, that’s cute. They have nicknames for each other.

You listened to their voices fade out as they walked to somewhere less crowded, Eddie insisting to get some privacy.

Way to go with the subtlety there, guys.

You knew you shouldn’t be this hurt over it – Chrissy was way more outgoing than you, so it was never shocking when someone gravitated to her over you – but you still were. Sure, she was your best friend and she made sure to include you in everything she was a part of, but you just...

You wanted someone to see you as your own person, not just ‘Chrissy’s best friend’.

Sunday afternoon

You’d spent that weekend the same as you always did: alone in your room keeping yourself busy with whatever you could until it came time for your weekly hangout with your best friend. You and Chrissy had hung out every Sunday practically since the day you met. Your mom always offered her own to stay and chat, but she never did; Her mother was more than happy to pawn her daughter on anyone willing to watch her. Your mom became more of a mother to Chrissy than her own – maybe that was why she stayed at your place as often as she was allowed.

You had just eaten lunch with your mom and Chrissy and played a few board games as well – you knew Chrissy appreciated the feeling of normalcy it gave her – before you ended up back in your bedroom. She was laying on your bed watching TV, propped up against the wall behind it, while you were sitting on the floor. Your most recent endeavor to keep yourself occupied, you decided, would be learning how to take in clothing too big and repurpose clothing that didn’t fit anymore into things you’d actually use. And lucky for you, Chrissy didn’t mind – you could gossip no matter what you were doing.

“You didn’t hang out with Jason today?” you mentioned after noticing her show had gone to a commercial, “I thought he said he was taking you to Lover’s Lake?”

“Of course not!” she insisted, “Sundays are for us! And you know how I feel about him.”

“I still don’t understand why you’re still with him,” you shook your head, “It’s like he’s gotten so much more oblivious to anything other than his popularity recently. Does he even notice when it’s one of the bad days again?”

“No,” she sighed, “But you know how my mom would be if she found out I broke up with him.”

“As if you don’t already get perfect grades, are the most popular girl at school, and all the teachers love you?” you rolled your eyes, “I hardly think not dating such an ass anymore would change all that.” You smiled slightly when she giggled.

“You know what? Enough about me!” she bounced in her seat, “What’s been going on with you? I feel like I never see you anymore!”

“Nothing new,” you shrugged, “Just trying to get at least one scholarship before graduation.”

“Oh, please! You could get those scholarships in your sleep!” You smiled slightly as she continued. “But that’s not what I meant! I mean, what’s been going on in your love life?”

“What love life?” you scoffed jokingly, “You know better than anyone that guys don’t even look at me.”

“That’s not true! What about Trevor? He told me he thought you were cute! You even went on a date with him!”

“Yeah, but we didn’t end up connecting as much as we thought we would,” you shrugged, “Decided we’re better as friends than a couple. I’m just glad he wasn’t a dick about it.”

“I knew he wouldn’t be,” she said, “That’s the only reason I set you up with him. There’s gotta be someone you’re into though?” Chrissy watched you pause, making her suck in a breath of excitement. “There is someone you’re into!” she squealed, “Why haven’t you told me?! I wanna know everything! Who is it?”

“Well... He’s in our grade,” you chose your wording carefully to not give it away, “He’s in a club and a band. We’ve been to his shows a couple of times. He’s really nice, but...”

“Is he not nice to you?” she narrowed her eyes at the idea this mystery crush of yours would be rude to you.

“It’s not that, it’s just... He likes someone else...” you whispered, “But I wasn’t surprised he likes someone else more; Everybody likes you more.”

“What do you mean?” she seemed genuinely confused, “Who likes me more?”

You didn’t respond, making Chrissy furrow her eyebrows. She took a moment to think about when you started acting a little differently when it came to boys, earning another gasp of realization.

“Are you talking about Eddie?” she asked, taking your small gulp as confirmation that she was right. “Y/N, you know I would never do that to you!” she assured you, “Oh my God, I would be the worst best friend ever if I went after someone you liked!” You looked up at her with confusion, making her smile. “You didn’t have to tell me for me to know,” she shook her head, “You’re my best friend; I know you better than I know myself.” Chrissy sighed softly, moving to the floor so she could take your hand in hers and squeeze it lightly. “I’ve been meeting Eddie so much because I’ve... I buy weed from him sometimes,” she finally confessed.

“You what?” your eyes widened, “Since when do you smoke weed?!”

“I’ve been... I see things sometimes... Hallucinations, I think,” she admitted, “And I know Eddie deals, so I thought it would help.”

“You’ve been seeing things?” you repeated, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I thought it was just the depression – that it was just something I would have to live with for the rest of my life... I didn’t want to drag you into all that.”

“Chrissy, you’re my best friend,” you repeated her earlier sentiment, giving her own hand a tight squeeze, “Your problems are my problems and mine are yours; We get through it together no matter what.” She gave you a small, tight-lipped smile. You knew she was still holding back, but you also knew that she’d come to you when she was ready.

But neither of you would ever get to have that conversation.

One week later; Wednesday

You felt like you weren’t actually in your body anymore. Everything felt foreign and fake and otherworldly. The school felt out of it and it felt like the students were just blips in the universe. People tried to talk to you – offer their condolences – but their voices were all muffled in your ears.

Chrissy was dead; Your best friend was gone.

You’d attended the funeral the previous day – and if you thought the amount of people at school looking at you in pity was bad, you would have prepared better for the service. You humored Jason when he offered his condolences, giving him your own as well – despite how pompous and two-faced you thought he was, he still lost his girlfriend and you weren’t going to be a bitch to him.

You made it through the funeral service and burial before going back home. Your mother tried her best to lift your spirits, but you knew she was having just as hard a time with everything as you were – Chrissy was like a second daughter to her, after all.

You heard about a meeting at the town hall that would take place the day after to discuss those killed recently. You thought it would be a gathering to remember everyone – Chrissy, Fred, Patrick – so you decided to go. Your mother had wanted to attend as well, but you insisted she rest instead. The events of the past week had taken a major toll on her and she looked like she hadn’t slept in days – and honestly, she probably hadn’t. You promised to tell her everything that happened, and she walked you to the front door as you put on your jacket, kissing your head before you left.

And, to be fair, the meeting did start out as remembering the deceased.

Until Jason showed up, that is.

After those who wished to speak offered up memories, the police chief started to speak. He was giving an update on the investigation, and you could feel your blood run cold when he mentioned that they did have a suspect and were looking for information leading to his whereabouts so they could talk to him. But before he could give a name, he was interrupted by Jason.

“With all due respect, Chief Powell, I think it’s obvious who’s responsible,” Jason stated, “That freak Eddie Munson and his Hellfire cult murdered a popular girl as a sacrifice to Satan! It’s about time we band together and rid this town of him for good!”

“Now, son,” the Chief shook his head with a firm tone in his voice, “We only want to talk to Mr. Munson as of right now; We can’t just go around accusing people of something as serious as murder.”

“Don’t you all get it?” he looked around the room, “These satanic cults that are spreading around the country say they’re playing ‘some silly roleplaying game’ when they’re really planning rituals for human sacrifice! That's what the mall fire was really about! That’s why so many people are dead! It’s because of Hellfire!”

“That’s bullshit!” you looked over to see Erica Sinclair practically seething with anger, “The Hellfire isn’t a cult! It’s a club for a bunch of nerds!”

“A club? A club! A harmless club – that’s what they want you to think! But it’s a lie to conceal the truth! And the truth is it’s a cult now protecting their leader! Hiding Eddie and allowing him to continue his sacrifices! We can stop him from killing any more! We must come together and cast the evil out of Hawkins that is Hellfire! We have to-”

“Shut up!” your voice broke as you stood up from your seat, making everyone stare at you in shock.

You were so sick of everyone pointing blame at Eddie – it didn’t matter that they didn’t have proof. You would have defended anyone under those circumstances, but them only choosing him because he’s an easy target made you even more upset.

“It’s bad enough you used Billy and Chief Hopper’s deaths at that pep rally to what, boost morale at a stupid basketball game?! They died in an accidental mall fire; They weren’t murdered in some sacrificial ritual!” you threw your arms up, “But now you wanna claim they were for what, getting justice?! None of you would have even given a shit if someone else died in any other way or if it were anyone but Chrissy, so why do you give a shit now?! You certainly wouldn’t have cared if it were some random student, and you would have celebrated if it were Eddie, so why the hell do you suddenly give a fuck?!”

“Am I hearing you defending that freak right now?” Jason narrowed his eyes at you, “Just because you were Chrissy’s best friend-”

“I am Chrissy’s best friend,” you snapped back, “So I think I know damn well she wouldn’t have wanted this witch hunt! Whether you like it or not, she was friends with Eddie, and she would be pissed at all of you for acting like a bunch of fucking assholes! She wouldn’t have even given him the time of day if she thought he was going to pull some satanic bullshit on her or whatever the fuck you’re bitching about!”

“You’re just as much of a freak as the rest of them,” he scoffed.

“And you’re just as much of the asshole Chrissy thought you were,” you growled, not giving him the chance to respond as you grabbed your jacket and left, letting the door slam behind you.

Eddie’s POV; The next day

“Eddie?!” Dustin called out as he and the gang approached Skull Rock.

“I am right here, Henderson,” he reminded him from his makeshift seat, “And I’m sure I will be here until the day I die.”

“You’re not gonna be in here that long,” Robin insisted, “We just have to come up with a plan is all.”

“Knowing all of you? I’ll be here until I die,” he rolled his eyes, earning the same gesture in return.

“Anyway,” Dustin spoke up again, “We brought you some food.” He handed him a bag and Eddie immediately took the contents out and started eating. “Oh!” he chirped, “You know how the town hall had a meeting to remember everyone last night?” Eddie simply nodded. “Well, Erica was there and said Jason came in and started laying it on thick about Hellfire and how we’re a cult and how we perform satanic sacrifices and that’s why everyone’s dying.”

“Is this supposed to make me feel better, Henderson?” Eddie rolled his eyes, “Am I supposed to be happy there’s a bounty on my head now?”

“No, man! Erica said someone stood up and told Jason to shut up and that he’s being an asshole for-”

“Language!” Steve reprimanded, earning a middle finger from the teen.

“Dude, she said it was so badass!” Dustin bounced around the dirt path, “The way Y/N didn’t back down when Jason tried to intimidate her for the way she was defending you was so sick! She just totally laid into Jason and his stupid friends and the people going along with it and she didn’t care what they thought!”

“Y/N?” Eddie felt his heart start racing, “She was defending me?”

“Yeah? Weren’t you listening?” he frowned, “Erica said she was a real badass! I wish we could have seen it!”

Dustin kept raving about Erica’s play-by-play of your performance, but Eddie wasn’t hearing it anymore.

Chrissy’s cute friend believed he was innocent?

Your POV; The next day

You weren’t at all shocked when you arrived at school the next day to glares and whispers behind your back. You knew Jason and his minions were going to make sure everyone knew what you’d done. When someone said something to you directly, you simply rolled your eyes and ignored them. Jason obviously would have spun the story to make you look even worse, so you didn’t want to waste your time trying to defend yourself with things you knew wouldn’t change their minds anyway.

On your way to lunch, you stopped by your locker to put away a textbook when you saw something poking out of the slot above the latch. You grabbed it and held it under your arm against your side as you opened your locker. You put the books away and reached back for the note. You wondered if maybe it was meant for someone else and they just had the wrong locker, but you knew by what was written in it that it was meant for you.

Meet at Hellfire after school

You stared at the sloppy handwriting for a moment before looking up and around the hall. No one was watching to make sure you received it, so you had absolutely no idea who had left you the note. You flipped the paper over – expecting to see contact info? – but instead found a messily-drawn map of where to find the club in the school’s basement.

Three hours later

The moment the final bell rang, you were hastily leaving the classroom and walking to your locker. You’d been internally arguing with yourself all day about whether or not you should listen to this mystery note – you had no idea who sent it or what they wanted or if it was just Jason and his friends trying to get you alone – before you finally defined to just go.

Whatever happened now couldn’t be worse than when you were told Chrissy died, could it?

You shoved all of your books into your locker, deciding to just get your backpack after you were done with whoever you were meeting. You slowly made your way to the stairwell to the basement, wanting to wait until the hallway had mostly cleared out.

Once it had, you went through the door and pulled the note out of your pocket. You followed the practically-illegible map as best as you could, occasionally looking up to make sure you were heading in what you assumed was the right direction.

You finally made it to a door with a piece of doodled-on notebook paper taped to it – drawings no doubt done by Eddie – with the words ‘HELLFIRE CLUB MEMBERS ONLY’ scrawled on it. You opened the door, making the chatter in the room cease as soon as the knob moved.

You came face-to-face with a small group of people – okay, one of them is definitely too old to be in school, right? – stepping back in surprise. It was silent for a moment – the tall man looking at the curly-haired boy incredulously – before someone spoke.

“Y/N!” the boy with curly hair exclaimed before looking at the group smugly, “I told you she’d come!”

“Uh... What’s going on...?” you asked.

The boy – Dustin – then finally introduced everyone to you. You recognized him from the Hellfire table, Max from a couple of your classes, you were pretty sure Robin was in the marching band, and you could have sworn Steve graduated the previous year. You had no idea what was going on – you were only expecting to see one person in here, not four.

“I stole Eddie’s key to the room,” Dustin explained as if he could hear what was going on inside your head, “We need to talk to you.”

“About...?” you trailed off, finally looking around the room.

You could see the Dungeons & Dragons game set up on a table in front of a prop throne with seven other chairs around it. There wasn’t much going on besides the mess of other props strewn about the storage room, but one thing did catch your eye.

Sitting on top of the table was a crumpled-up wanted poster with Eddie’s face on it, a bunch of satanic scribblings all over his face. Next to it, pictures of all the people who had been killed so far – Chrissy, Fred, Patrick, Billy, Chief Hopper, and a few others you didn’t recognize – and you knew what this was really about.

“You know what? I already had this argument with Jason; I’m not interested in another one,” you stated bluntly, turning to leave.

“Steve!” Dustin huffed, prompting him to groan loudly and rush over to you. Steve grabbed your arm and pulled you further into the room, despite how hard you were trying to free yourself.

“Hey!” you started yelling, hitting his forearms as he wrapped them around your waist to keep you there, “Let go of me!”

“Henderson!” he grunted as he struggled to keep you in place while you punched him, “You said she’d listen!”

“Y/N, come on! Just hear us out!” he begged, “We just wanna talk about Chri-”

“I don’t care!” your voice broke, trying – but failing – the keep the tears from falling down your cheeks, “I don’t want to talk about Chrissy! I don’t want to remember she’s gone! I don’t want to think about it anymore! I want to go ho-”

“Chrissy died because Eddie’s trailer is a portal to the Upside Down!” Dustin finally yelled.

Steve’s head snapped to glare at the teenager – he had been so reluctant to tell Eddie what was going on, but had no problem just springing it on you? – but he couldn’t ignore that it made you gradually start fighting back less. Your breathing stunted before picking right back up again, your back hitting his chest with every exhale.

“The what?” you whispered, slouching against the man behind you still holding your waist. Steve relaxed his body as well, slowly moving you to sit on the throne. He finally released his hold on you but remained seated behind you, giving you a weird sense of comfort.

The group started explaining the Mind Flayer and the Upside Down and the portals and Vecna and why those killed were targeted and how the Starcourt Mall fire hadn’t been some tragic accident and how their friend Eleven had powers and what had been going on the last three years, and you had no idea how to even respond.

You couldn’t believe all of this had been happening for three years and you had no idea about it. Sure, you’d heard about all the deaths in your tiny town, but you just assumed what the police were saying happened was true – you had no reason to believe otherwise.

Until it came to Chrissy’s death, of course.

You suspected something more was going on – that, despite being found in his trailer, everyone was just saying Eddie was responsible because it was easy. They already hated him for being different; This was just an actual reason now.

As if he could read your mind, Dustin finally brought you back to the real world.

“-and they all think Eddie did it, but he didn’t! It was all because of Vec-”

“I know,” you choked out, earning surprised looks from everyone.

“You know?” Max asked.

“Eddie could never ki-” you swallowed the word, still unable to talk about Chrissy without crying, “He wouldn’t do that...”

“Thank God,” Dustin breathed out sharply, “That makes convincing you to help a lot easier.”

“Help?” Steve finally spoke, “Henderson, she can’t- Stop dragging people into this!”

“But she’s the only one that can convince Eddie to stop hiding out at Skull Rock! And having one more person would just make it easier to defeat Vecna!”

“That’s not the point!” he insisted, “We’ve all been able to fight whatever monsters came up with just us before! Y/N doesn’t need to be brought into that now too! Eddie’s already been dragged into this by association, we don’t need-”

“I wanna help,” your soft plea cut Steve off, causing the group to look at you, “I wanna help Eddie.”

Eddie’s POV

Despite it being close to 5 PM, Eddie was finding it harder and harder not to fall asleep. He was starting to lose track of time being out in the woods for so long, but he was not about to return to a place where he was basically being hunted for sport.

Eddie began to doze off slightly again, only to be jolted awake by the sounds of twigs snapping and leaves crunching as footsteps got closer to his hideout. His body immediately tensed up, holding out the first weapon he could grab – a short, broken tree branch. He peeked around the rock before hopping out and yelling like a madman, only earning eye rolls in response.

“What are you gonna do with that, poke me to death?” Dustin asked, “Put it down; It’s just us.”

“Some warning would have been nice, Henderson,” Eddie dropped the stick, waving the walkie-talkie in his other hand to remind him of it.

“I left it at home,” he shrugged, making him roll his eyes as he sat down on a nearby boulder.

“We brought food again!” Robin chirped.

“It’s just what’s available from the vending machines outside Family Video,” Steve added, “But it’s something.” He tossed Eddie a bag of chips while Robin gave him a can of soda.

“Can we come up with a plan now?” Max interjected, “I’m getting tired of hiking up here.”

“I told you guys already,” Dustin insisted, “That’s why we brought Y/N!” Eddie’s gaze snapped to the teenager before he finally noticed someone new had joined the party.

You were trailing behind Nancy and Lucas, looking at your surroundings. When you finally stopped walking and your eyes met Eddie’s, he couldn’t help but feel sick. He knew you didn’t blame him or think he was guilty of Chrissy’s murder, but something about seeing her best friend made him want to find a new hiding spot – a spot the group would surely never think to look for him. You gulped and quickly looked away from him, nervously training your gaze on the nature around you.

The group started talking about how they were going to get into the Upside Down and get rid of Vecna once and for all. They were all coming up with ideas on how to kill him – how much easier it would be if they could just figure out how to get El her powers back – when Eddie looked over and spoke up.

“Hey, uh... Henderson’s not cursed, is he?” he asked, making everyone follow his gaze to find Dustin pacing around and staring off into the forest.

“Cursed? No, he’s fine,” Steve answered, “Mental? Absolutely.”

“BOOM!” Dustin’s sudden shout made everyone jump and snap to face him. He then pointed at Steve and smirked, “I was right. Skull Rock was north!” Eddie cocked an eyebrow when everyone else sighed and rolled their eyes, preparing themselves for the argument they’d been hearing for the past three days.

“Oh my Go- Are you serious?!” Steve threw his arms up, “This again?! This is Skull Rock! You’re totally, absolutely, 100% wrong!”

“Yes,” he smiled, “And no.”

“Oh my God,” Steve repeated, his hands on his face muffling his voice.

“This compass worked correctly when we left the school,” Dustin explained, “But it started to slip the further east we went. Now that we’re here, the thing is way off! Lucas, do you remember what can affect a compass?”

“An electromagnetic field!” he perked up, beginning to realize what his friend was saying.

“I’m sorry?” Robin cocked an eyebrow, “I must have skipped that class?”

“In the presence of a stronger electromagnetic field, the needle will deflect towards that power. So either there’s a super big magnet around here, or-”

“There’s a gate!” Lucas finished, making Dustin beam with joy.

“Now we know how to get to Vecna and release Max from his curse!” the teen exclaimed. Eddie noticed you look at the redhead with wide eyes – clearly no one had told you that one of them was currently dealing with what your best friend had been.

“But we’re nowhere near Hawkins Lab,” Nancy reminded him.

“All I know is this compass wouldn’t react if something wasn’t nearby,” Dustin said, “It’ll be small and not as powerful, but it’s still a way into the Upside Down. We just have to find it.” The teenager turned and began walking down the hill, but Steve stopped him.

“Where are you going? Hey, hey, hey!” he practically shouted, making Dustin come back to the group, “Eddie’s still a wanted man! We can’t just go for a hike in the woods like we’re on vacation in South America!”

“This little steel capsule-” He held up the compass. “-might be the key to saving both Max and Eddie,” he stated, “So what say you, Eddie the Banished?” Your eyebrow quirked at the nickname.

“I say you’re asking me to follow you into Mordor,” Eddie responded lowly, “Gotta be totally straight with you: that’s a really bad idea. But... The Shire is burning...” Dustin started jumping up and down excitedly, knowing he was going to agree. “So Mordor it is,” he finished, standing up from his makeshift seat.

You breathed out a laugh when you heard Steve mutter ‘What the hell is Mordor?’ to himself.

“Let’s split up!” the teen announced, “We’ll cover more ground that way and have less of a chance of getting caught before we find it. We’ll meet back here at sunset to see who found it. Lucas and Max, go toward the Creel house. Nancy and Robin can go west. Me and Steve will go south. And Y/N, you go with Eddie toward the train tracks!” Dustin put his hands on your back and pushed you toward him.

Your POV

Eddie grabbed your elbow when you yelped in surprise and lost your balance, glaring at the teen for nearly causing you to fall. You thanked him quietly as you fixed the hair that flew over your face, surprising him by following him into the forest without protest.

You jogged a little to keep up with his long strides, prompting him to shorten them so you could simply walk. Once the chatter of everyone else died down as they walked in their respective directions, you finally spoke to Eddie for the first time.

“So, uh... This is not how I expected this week to end,” you mentioned, making him laugh.

“I never expected to be on the run from police either,” he said. You let out a small breath of amusement, but your face still fell slightly.

Eddie watched you carefully, his mind racing with what he could possibly say about the loss of your best friend. But the only thing he could come up with was the events that led up to it.

“I really thought ‘86 was gonna be my year, you know?” he sighed, “I was finally gonna graduate and leave Hawkins behind and tour the world with my band. I started making friends outside of Hellfire – a cheerleader even wanted to talk to me...” He noticed you swallow thickly at the mention of Chrissy, but he couldn’t stop rambling. “That night... Chrissy came over to hang out. I left the room to get something and when I came back, it was like she was possessed or something. She wasn’t moving and was just staring at the wall. Then she started just...levitating...or some shit. She started bending all weird and blood was coming out of her eyes... And I begged and begged and begged her to wake up but she wouldn’t, so I... I did the only thing I know how to do...” he mumbled, looking down at the leaves in front of him, “I ran away. I left her there like a coward and hid in that stupid boat house and now Skull Rock and I let everyone believe it was my f-”

“I never believed it was your fault,” you whispered, making his head snap up to look at you. You sniffled as you stared at the ground, roughly swiping your fingertips underneath your eyes to get rid of the tears. “I was mad she was gone because she’s my best friend and the only person who ever really cared about me,” you continued quietly, “But I knew the second everyone started saying how she was found in your trailer that you didn’t do anything to her. I saw how you were with her at school; You liked her way too much to do something like that to her.”

“I didn’t like her,” Eddie told you, “I mean, I liked her as a person, but I didn’t like her. She was my only friend outside of Hellfire, but she... We only hung out because... She was...just...”

“Buying weed,” you finished his sentence with a small smile at the shock on his face, “She told me before she... About the hallucinations and how she was trying to get rid of them... Apparently didn’t work, but... I guess it’s pretty hard to get out of Vecna’s curse once you’re in.”

“You know about Vecna?”

“Dustin told me,” you nodded, “Said he thinks I can help somehow.”

“No,” the firmness in Eddie’s voice surprised you, making you look at him with furrowed brows, “You don’t need to be anywhere near this shit.”

“I obviously agreed to it, Eddie,” you reminded him with a shake of your head, “I want to help if it means saving Hawkins and preventing someone else from dying. I wanted- I want to help you...” You suppressed another onslaught of tears – not even noticing the slight blush he was now sporting – not wanting to cry in front of someone you just met for a second time. “He said I’m the only one that can convince you to stop hiding at that huge rock,” you continued.

“Henderson said that?” Eddie asked. You simply shrugged.

“I don’t know why it would make a difference for me to do it, but he says I have the best shot at it,” you nodded. You heard him sigh, turning your head to find him rubbing his face roughly. “You don’t have to, you know?” you mentioned, “We’ve never even really met before today, so I don’t know why Dustin thought that I could-”

“I mean, I obviously want to stop hiding out,” he admitted, “I just can’t believe Henderson dragged you into it on my behalf now.”

“Well, you were Chrissy’s friend and I know you didn’t do anything to her because she wouldn’t have stuck around if she were scared of you performing rituals or whatever shit Jason’s trying to push,” you offered, making him chuckle, “And I’m already in it, so I might as well do what I can to help. Sure beats writing scholarship essays.”

“With your smarts, any college would be stupid not to take you,” he said without thinking. His eyes widened in horror, but his heart raced when you giggled.

“Thanks,” you replied, “It’s just disappointing I can’t put ‘saved the town of Hawkins, Indiana from an evil curse’ on any of my applications.”

“Well, you could,” he shrugged, “Just don’t expect to get into that college though.”

“I don’t think I’d get into any college after that. They’d probably let all the others know I’m insane.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being a little insane, sweetheart,” Eddie said, making you snort softly.

The two of you walked for a little while longer in comfortable silence. Eddie had since given you his jacket as it got cooler, admiring how cute you looked in it. In fact, he’d been so entranced with you that he’d actually forgotten what you were meant to be doing in the first place.

“So... How do we know if we’ve found a gate or whatever?” you asked.

“No idea,” he admitted, “But Henderson said it’ll be obvious, so I guess we just...look for the obvious.”

Suddenly, as if Vecna himself heard you, the ground started to shake violently. Eddie grabbed onto a small tree, wrapping his arm around your waist and keeping you close so neither of you fell.

“I think someone found the obvious!” he hollered over the sounds of trees being shaken back and forth, their limbs and leaves slamming against each other.

“What are you talking about?! This is totally normal!” you shouted back, gripping him just as tightly as he was holding you while your legs desperately tried to hold you up.

You started hearing loud cracking sounds in the distance followed by small explosions every now and then. Your gaze snapped up to Eddie, finding him already looking at you with a horrified expression.

“What is that?” you asked as the shaking began to subside. It sounded like it was all going away from you, so you figured the gate must be further than you were heading.

“We have to go find everyone,” Eddie said, releasing the tree and grabbing your hand. You both ran as carefully as you could back toward Skull Rock, hoping that’s what the others had done too.

All of this was happening so fast – you had just been told of the existence of the Upside Down not even three hours ago, and now it seemed like it was all going downhill faster than you could process it. You didn’t even fully understand what the gates were yet, and now it was very likely that one was opening?

“I think I’m gonna throw up,” you grumbled mostly to yourself but felt Eddie squeeze your hand in response.

When the rock came back into view, you could see the group already there, frantically looking around for you and Eddie. Steve was the first to spot you two, sighing in relief.

“Guys!” he exclaimed, making everyone turn, “Are you alright?” He, Robin, and Nancy shared a look when they realized you were wearing Eddie’s jacket.

“Where are Max and Lucas?” you asked, noticing they were the only ones not there. Eddie had yet to release your hand – not that you were going to let go of him either.

“Maybe they’re still on their way? Creel house is pretty far from here...” Robin suggested, but you could tell she felt off about it too.

“What do we do then?” Nancy shook her head, “We can’t just stand here and wait and hope they show up.”

“Well, good news,” Dustin said, “Me and Steve found the gate that was making the compass fuck up at Lover’s Lake.”

“Language, Henderson!” Steve exclaimed, smacking the back of his shoulder.

“We should still go check it out! It could help save Max from the curse!” he insisted. The group reluctantly agreed and started following Dustin toward the lake.

“Hey, are you sure you still wanna do this, Y/N?” Steve asked, “Maybe you should go home.”

“No way!” you frowned, “I’m at least finding out what the hell an Upside Down or whatever gate thing is first!” You felt your heart flutter when Eddie chuckled beside you.

“Alright,” Robin added, “Just don’t say we didn’t warn you.”

When you arrived at the lake a few minutes later, it looked completely normal. You knew you should be relieved, but you were honestly disappointed – wasn’t this supposed to be some kind of portal to the underworld?

Steve broke away from the group and went into the boat house, reemerging moments later after pushing a boat onto the water. Eddie immediately jumped in, helping Robin and Nancy in as well. He then held his hand out to you, and you knew you shouldn’t – you knew you were biting off way more than you could chew – but you immediately took it and got sat down with everyone else. Dustin started to climb on as well but Steve stopped him as Nancy started rowing.

“Not you, Henderson,” he stated firmly.

“Yeah! Bedtime’s at 9!” Robin chirped.

“What?!” he shouted, begrudgingly handing over his compass when Nancy reached for it.

“Too many cooks rock the boat, you know,” Steve shrugged.

“I don’t think that’s the saying at all!” Dustin rolled his eyes, “I think you’re just an idiot!” Eddie remained silent while you gave the teen a sympathetic smile, promising him you’d be back in no time. “There you are!” you heard his voice again, making you all look over to find the two kids you’d been worried about.

“What are you guys doing?!” Lucas called after you.

“We’ll tell you when we get back!” Steve announced. You assumed the sound you heard next was Dustin groaning loudly again and going on to explain to them what had been said at Skull Rock.

Once Nancy reached where she believed the electromagnetic source was coming from, she stopped. You all listened for something – anything – that sounded different, but nothing did. You looked over when Steve started pulling off his shoes and socks.

“Steve, what are you doing?” Nancy asked.

“Someone’s gotta go down there and check things out,” he informed you all, taking off his sweater and diving in before anyone had the chance to argue with him.

You waited for what felt like hours, jumping when Steve popped back up only a few moments later. He tossed his flashlight back into the boat and grabbed onto the side for support.

“There’s definitely a gate down there,” he informed you.

“Is that a good thing?” you asked.

But he wasn’t able to respond.

Steve was suddenly yanked back underwater, making you all start shouting. Nancy didn’t waste a second before diving in after him, Robin quickly following suit.

“Are you kidding me?!” you screamed at the water as you stood up – though you knew it wouldn’t do any good.

“Y/N,” Eddie said with a warning tone, “Don’t you da-” He didn’t finish the statement before you jumped into the lake as well. He slapped his hands over his face – he knew damn well he wasn’t about to let you be an absolute moron by yourself – and let out a ‘Son of a bitch, this is so stupid!’ out loud before following you in.

You yelped in surprise as you entered into the Upside Down. You didn’t know what you were expecting to happen, but being literally tossed into the middle of a bunch of flying...things...trying to kill Steve wasn’t it. Nancy and Robin were hitting the creatures with pieces of a broken oar, and Eddie came tumbling into the mayhem with the other one.

“Y/N, duck!” he shouted. You didn’t even hesitate before doing exactly as you were told, feeling your hair fly as Eddie’s oar flew above your head. Your gaze snapped to the side, watching a bat-like creature fall flat on the ground a few feet away from you.

You then looked over at Steve, finding him struggling against one of them choking him. Since you felt practically useless without a weapon, you figured you’d try to help the best you could.

You kept yourself low to the ground as you reached him, helping him pry off what appeared to be a tail wrapped around his neck. Once you were both successful, he grabbed the tail and slammed the thing into the ground as hard as he could a couple of times until he was sure it was dead.

The moment of silence that followed – once the creatures were lifeless heaps on the ground around you – you all looked at each other.

“What the hell were those things?” Eddie asked.

“Demobats,” Steve answered as if it were the most casual thing in the world, “I can’t believe all of you idiots followed me.”

“You’d have been a goner if we hadn’t, you dingus!” Robin reminded him.

“Well, it’s not like I planned to be dragged down here!”

“Guys, can we not fight about this right now?” Nancy held her hand up, “We’ve got more company incoming!”

You all looked to where she was pointing, noticing a new swarm of creatures – now known to you as demobats – were en route. You then looked back down at your now completely shredded weapons, knowing there was no way you’d be able to take on any more of those things.

“We need to get to my house,” she went on, “If this really is just the underside of the real world, my guns should still be in my bedroom.” You looked at her in shock.

“You, Nancy Wheeler, have guns – plural – in your bedroom?” Eddie cocked an eyebrow. She shrugged with a guilty smile on her face.

“Well, it sure beats being eaten alive by demon bats,” you stated, following Nancy in the direction of her house.

“Demobats,” Steve corrected.

“Does it really matter?!” you huffed, your head snapping to look at him. You could feel yourself doing a double take.

You then turned to shoot Eddie a look and he immediately nodded. You slipped your arms out of his jacket and held it out to Steve.

“Please take this, Prince Hairy,” you stated, “I just met you today and I’m very uncomfortable.” The group snorted softly – Robin snickering and calling Steve a dingus again – as he embarrassingly took the item of clothing from you.

Nancy led you all to her house – well, the Upside Down version of her house – and shoved the side door open. Steve and Eddie immediately wandered off upon entering, but you and Robin decided to follow Nancy to wherever she was going. You ended up in her bedroom, showing up in the doorway just as she was letting out a defeated sigh.

“Crap,” Nancy grumbled, closing the closet doors, “My guns aren’t here.”

“Now what are we supposed to do?” Robin wondered, “We can’t get out of here with those bats flying around.”

“There has to be a way to let someone know we’re trapped,” you shook your head with a frown, “I mean yeah, real life sucks, but I don’t wanna be stuck here forever!” The girls looked at you with concern.

“Are you doing okay after...?” Robin asked you.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, “I haven’t been alone long enough to think about it, really.”

“You know, I know what it’s like to lose your best friend,” Nancy offered, “So if you ever need to talk, I’m here.”

“Me too!” Robin chirped, “All this Upside Down stuff can be a lot to take in, but it sure is better than being kidnapped by Russians.” You stopped what you were doing to look at her incredulously. “Oh yeah! Me and Steve were taken by the Russians hiding out underneath the Starcourt Mall,” she shrugged nonchalantly, “They were a bunch of dinguses though – they didn’t even get the drugs they injected us with right.”

“DUSTIN?!” you suddenly heard Steve shout, making you all jump, “HEY?! HENDERSON?!”

“We’re gonna unpack more of that later,” you pointed at Robin before the three of you ran out of the room toward Steve’s voice.

You entered the living room at the same time as Eddie, all of you staring at Steve in confusion. He was pacing around like a madman, shouting Dustin’s name at the ceiling.

“Are you cursed now, Harrington?” Eddie asked.

“Just listen!” he insisted. You were all silent for a moment, none of you hearing what he claimed to.

“We don’t have time for this, you dingus!” Robin rolled her eyes.

“I heard the kid talking! It was like he was here! Can you just-”

“Steve!” Nancy shouted to grab his attention, only continuing when he looked at her, “You said Will communicated with Joyce through lights, right?”

Steve’s eyes widened and the both of them ran toward the light switch on the wall. You, Robin, and Eddie watched on in confusion, none of you understanding what was going on. Nancy flipped the switch up and down a few times, huffing when nothing happened.

“Shit,” she mumbled, “It’s not working.”

“Uh, guys...” you spoke up. The group looked at you, following your amazed stare at the light fixture in the middle of the room.

It appeared to have some sort of orange sparkles dancing around it, though the fixture itself didn’t even seem to be in working order. Nancy lifted her arm to touch it, all of you watching in awe as the light bulbs flickered in response.

“Does anyone know Morse code?” she asked, earning a chorus of dejected ‘no’s.

“Wait,” Eddie suddenly said, “Does SOS count?” You all looked at him with dumbfounded expressions, making him frown. “What?”

“Just do it,” Robin rolled her eyes, motioning to the light above you.

Eddie poked around the orange glow a few times, and you could hear Erica’s faint voice alerting Dustin and Lucas to it. They stopped speaking for a moment but you then heard Dustin say ‘S...O...S...’, making you cheer at realizing he understood what you were trying to communicate.

“How are we supposed to keep talking to them?” Eddie asked, putting his arm back against his side, “Those are the only letters I know how to do.”

“Hmph,” Nancy began chewing on her bottom lip before sighing in defeat, “I have no idea.”

After a moment of silent brainstorming – and Eddie wandering off after getting bored – you were nowhere closer to a solution than you had been. You looked back up at the light fixture and decided you wanted a closer look, only to be yelled at while doing so.

“Hey!” you heard Dustin’s echoing shout, “Stop! That’s too bright!” The group turned to find you quickly pulling your arm back to your chest.

“Sorry,” you mumbled in embarrassment, “The light got brighter when I got closer to the glass. I thought it was cool.”

“The light got brighter...” Nancy repeated softly to herself before sucking in a breath of realization, “Lite Brite!”

“Lite Brite?” Steve cocked an eyebrow, “Like the kids’ toy?”

“Yes! Holly got one for Christmas three years ago! We can use the lights on that to talk to the kids!”

“How are we supposed to tell them that though?” Robin questioned.

“Y/N,” Nancy said, making you perk up, “Touch the glass again and don’t let go.” You were confused but did as she asked anyway.

You could hear the teenagers start to complain again, all of them whining that ‘the light’s too bright!’. But as they slowly stopped, you couldn’t ignore that Nancy’s plan seemed to be working.

“Hey... Isn’t Mike’s sister playing with one of those Lite Brite things when we go over sometimes?” Lucas asked.

“Yes!” you, Nancy, Steve, and Robin exclaimed simultaneously, following Nancy when she ran down the hall to Holly’s room.

Once she dug the toy out from underneath her sister’s bed, the four of you quickly worked on placing all the pegs into the holes, filling up the entire Lite Brite board in a matter of seconds. Nancy moved her fingers across the glowing rainbow of lights, but you didn’t receive a response like you were hoping.

“Why isn’t it working?” you heard Erica ask.

“Yank it,” Dustin directed, and Lucas pulled the plug out of the socket by the cord. Nancy tried again, writing out a letter ‘H’ followed by an ‘I’. “H... I...” he said slowly before gasping, “Hi!”

“Yes!” you cheered again, making Eddie poke his head into the room.

“What are you guys doing?” he came into the room.

“We found a way to communicate with the kids,” Nancy said, “What were you doing?”

“Found a flashlight for Y/N,” he said, handing it to you. You smiled softly and thanked him, turning back to Holly’s bed. “We can communicate? How?” he leaned over your shoulder, his hands finding your hips to keep himself steady as he sat on his knees with the rest of you. Robin looked at you when she heard your breathing hitch, glancing down and smirking at the situation.

Nancy spelled out answers to the questions you could hear Dustin asking, finally able to let them know you were trapped in the Upside Down and needed help finding a way back out. Everyone listened to the kids try to come up with a plan but you were spaced out, only coming back when Robin nudged you.

“You good, Y/N?” she asked, making the rest of them turn to you.

“I was just thinking...” you sighed, “It’s probably stupid though.”

“Well, if you’ve got an idea, it would be more than the rest of us have so far,” Steve reminded you.

“You guys said that the gates open when there’s a death, right?” you asked, earning nods, “Well... If the lake is a gate because of Patrick, and that road by the fairground is where Fred was... Wouldn’t Chrissy have made Eddie’s trailer a gate too?” The four looked at each other and you watched the smiles grow on their faces.

“Y/N,” Robin grabbed your shoulders, “You’re a downright genius.” You smiled brightly, finally feeling like you were actually contributing something to the group’s efforts to get back to the real world.

“Eddie, how far away is the trailer park?” Nancy asked him.

“7 miles,” he answered instantly, earning looks from everyone. “What?” he raised his eyebrows, “I’ve been to parties.”

“That’s too far to walk,” she shook her head, “We’ll have to take Me and my brother’s bikes – Lucas and Erica’s too.”

“That still leaves one person without a bike,” Steve reminded her.

“I could ride on the handlebars,” you offered, “I used to do it all the time with Chrissy since I didn’t have a bike.”

You made your way outside to where the Wheelers kept their bikes before walking across the yard and finding the Sinclair siblings’ as well. You determined that Erica’s bike would be most comfortable, so Steve straddled the seat so you could hop on. You wobbled slightly as he began pedaling, barely catching yourself before falling off – it really had been a while since you’d done this.

“You need to lean back?” Steve wondered, “You just have to hold my flashlight.”

“I think I can handle that,” you chuckled, taking the device and doing as he asked, no one noticing the boy sulking at the sight of it.

7 miles later, you arrived at Forest Hills Trailer Park. Eddie moved to the front of the group to lead you to his trailer, scoffing to himself as you giggled at one of Steve’s stupid jokes. You hopped off of the handlebars before Steve parked the bike with everyone else’s, following Eddie into his home. Once the door opened, you all stood in awe as you stared up at the ceiling.

“Guys!” Dustin was smiling down at you, “How’s it going up there?”

“Up?” Steve asked, “You’re the one that’s up, Henderson.”

“I hardly think that’s important right now,” Max, who was now with the group, reminded everyone, “What’s important is how to they get back here?”

“Well, they just have to climb in, right?” Lucas shrugged, “Just find something to climb.”

“Eddie! How many sheets do you have?” Dustin questioned.

“In the hall closet!” he called back as he walked away. And sure enough, the teen returned a few moments later with an armful of sheets and thin blankets.

“They’ll need something to land on too!” Lucas chimed in, already hurrying out of sight. He called for help, prompting Max to follow him while Erica and Dustin worked on tying the ends of the fabrics together.

The two teens came back, dragging Eddie’s mattress along with them. They let it fall right underneath the portal opening just as the other two finished tying the final knots.

“Alright, here goes nothing,” Dustin said, taking the makeshift rope and looking up at the rest of you. He tossed it upwards, all of you watching it fall into a heap at your feet. “Okay, now pull,” he said. Robin grabbed the rope in front of her and put all her body weight into it, and you were all amazed to see that it actually held up.

“This is the craziest shit I’ve ever seen in my life,” Erica commented, “And I’ve seen some crazy shit.” She happily high-fived Dustin when he held his hand up for one.

“Hey, Eddie... What are those-” Robin asked, pointing to some discolored parts of the mattress. “-that we’re going to be landing on?”

“Those are...” Eddie trailed off, “I don’t know what those stains are.”

“Sure you don’t,” you rolled your eyes, “Look, I don’t even care if they’re fresh as long as I get the fuck out of here.”

The four gave you disgusted looks as Robin began her climb as the first guinea pig – her words, not yours – to leave the Upside Down. You watched her fall flat on her back, breathing heavily as she smiled.

“Thank God,” she sat up, getting out of the way as you began your ascent back to the real world. You let out a sharp yelp, not expecting the floor to be as far as it was but happy to be home nonetheless.

Eddie was next to come through the portal, sighing as he sat up on the mattress, “That was fun.” He took your hand and let you help him back to his feet, all of you now watching as Nancy gripped the rope.

But she didn’t climb up and come falling through the portal like you’d expected her to.

You all watched as Steve’s expression changed to a horrified one, grabbing Nancy’s shoulders and starting to shake.

“Nancy?!” he yelled right in her face, “Nancy! Wake up!”

Max gasped softly, her voice coming out as a whisper, “Vecna...”

“Vecna has Nancy?!” Robin started freaking out, “What could he possibly want her for?!”

“Music!” Max spoke again, “Music got me out of it before; We need something for Nancy!”

“I have some cassettes in my room!” Eddie said, prompting you to follow him as he ran toward the back of the trailer. He directed everyone to the various places he kept his collection, all of you practically tearing apart his entire bedroom to find something you thought would work for Nancy.

“Steve says you guys need to hurry up!” Erica shouted as she ran into the room.

“No shit!” Dustin responded, tossing another tape to the side.

“What is any of this stuff?!” Robin exclaimed, “There’s no Madonna, Blondie, Bowie, Beatles – music! We need music!”

“THIS IS MUSIC!” Eddie screamed back at her, shaking a Metallica tape in front of her face.

“Everyone, just calm down!” you yelled over their fighting, “Does anyone know what Nancy likes to listen to? Pop? Metal? Fucking ocean sounds?”

No one was able to respond, hearing loud thuds coming from the living room. You all ran to the door to look down the hall, finding Nancy breathing heavily on the mattress and Steve groaning in pain from landing on the hard floor.

“Nancy!” Robin gasped in relief, but you were the first to break away from the group.

You shoved Eddie and Dustin out of the doorway, running to the two as they sat up. You weren’t even fully on your knees before you threw your arms around the girl, hugging her tightly. You understood why she didn’t hug you back – you had only met her that day, after all – but you didn’t mind; You were just happy she was alive.

“I’m so sorry I did that without even asking, but I’m just really glad you’re okay!” you exhaled sharply, “You are okay, right?” Your eyes widened. “Oh my God, I should have asked if you were okay before I hugged you! I didn’t hurt you more, did I? I’m so sorry; I really didn’t mean to-”

Your rambling was cut short when Nancy suddenly grabbed your shoulders and pulled you back in, hugging you tighter than you’d previously hugged her. You took that moment to catch your breath, allowing her to remind you that she was in fact okay and actually right in front of you.

“I’m fine, Y/N,” she assured you, squeezing you before letting go to look at you, “Thank you for caring.” You gave her a shy smile.

“I’m sorry if I’m being weird,” you murmured, “I don’t- Chrissy was the only person who talked to me before, so I... I’m not really...used...to having friends...” You were looking down at your hands as you nervously played with your fingers, not even noticing the way everyone looked at each other with small smiles on their faces.

“What was that?” Max asked, “Why did Vecna want you?”

“Why me? I don’t know,” she shook her head, “But Vecna, he... He gave me these...visions.. And he wants me to tell El everything he showed me in them.”

“What... What did you see?” Robin asked carefully.

“Things that haven’t happened yet – the most terrible things,” she recounted, “I saw a dark cloud spreading over Hawkins, downtown on fire, dead soldiers, and this...giant creature with...a gaping mouth. But this thing wasn’t alone; There were so many monsters – an army of them. And then... Then he showed me my mom...and Holly...and Mike... A-And they... They were all...” She let out a shaky breath, unable to even finish the sentence, as Steve grabbed her hand and squeezed.

“He was just trying to scare you, Nance,” he tried to reassure her, but he was obviously freaked out as well, “Right? I mean... It’s not real...”

“Not yet,” she shook her head, “But that wasn’t it. He showed me these gates – four of them – spreading across Hawkins; They all looked like the one at the bottom of the lake. But they were growing. And they didn’t stop getting bigger. But it wasn’t the Upside Down version of Hawkins; It was this one – the real one.”

“You said four gates?” Max asked, making Nancy nod, “Four gates... Four chimes... Vecna’s clock always chimes in fours.”

“Yeah,” she nodded again, “I heard the clock too.”

“He’s been telling us his plan the whole time!” Max threw her arm up, “Four kills. Four gates.”

“If that’s true...” you swallowed, “He’s only one kill away from the end of the world.”

The next day

“He's a number like Eleven,” Max said, “So he must have come from that Hawkins Lab experiment that got it shut down.”

“Sure,” Robin remarked, “Only a sick, evil, male, child-murdering version of her with really bad skin.”

“My point is he’s super powerful,” she rolled her eyes, “Could turn us inside out with the snap of his fingers. It’s not a fair fight.”

“Then why fight fair?” Dustin spoke up, “You’re right; He’s like El. But that gives us an upper hand. We know her strengths and weaknesses.”

“Weaknesses?” Steve cocked an eyebrow.

“When El did that remote-travel thing to free me from him the first time, she told me her physical body is in some sort of trance,” Max informed you, “I bet the same is true for Vecna.”

“That’s why he’s up in the Upside Down version of the Creel house?” Nancy asked, “Because he’s in a trance to get to multiple people at once?”

“So we have to go back into the Upside Down,” you announced, making everyone look at you incredulously.

“You’re kidding, right?” Steve asked, “Need I remind you we barely made it out of there yesterday.”

“Listen, I know I just joined in on this shit show, but it sounds to me like you have to take out the physical person and not just his mind fuckery,” you shrugged, “If he’s in a trance, he’s basically defenseless.”

“What about his army of freaky-looking bats,” Robin pointed out.

“We just have to find a way past them.”

“Or distract them and lead them somewhere else,” Dustin said.

“The only problem is there’s no pattern to Vecna’s killings,” Erica finally spoke, “Not one I can decipher anyway; We won’t know when he attacks next until someone dies.”

“But we don’t even know who that someone is,” Nancy sighed.

“Yeah, we do,” Max nodded, “I can still feel him; I’m still cursed. I’ll draw his focus back to me.”

“Max... No...” Lucas shook his head slowly, “He’ll kill you.”

“I survived him before; I can survive again,” she said confidently, “All I have to do is distract him long enough for you guys to get into the attic and chop his head off or stab him through the heart – I honestly don’t care how you put that asshole in his grave. Just... Whatever you do, try not to miss.”

You grunted as you fell through the gate, landing with a hard thud despite the group’s best efforts to make it a pain-free landing. You assured them you were alright though, following them outside the trailer back into the desolate Upside Down.

“Alright, we’re all good on the plan?” Nancy asked, earning a chorus of affirmations.

“And guys-” Steve looked at you and Eddie. “-if things here start to go south, I mean, at all, you abort, got it?” he deadpanned, “Don’t try to be heroes.”

“Absolutely,” Eddie nodded, “I mean, look at us: we are definitely not heroes.”

“I’m just trying to figure out what college to attend,” you shrugged.

“And I’m just trying to graduate high school,” he added, smiling at you when you giggled. Steve, Nancy, and Robin began their journey to Creel house, but they turned when Eddie spoke again. “Hey, Steve?” he said, waiting until he looked at him to continue, “Make him pay.” Steve gave him a small nod, silently promising to do exactly that.

You stood still as you watched them leave, not really sure what to say next. Eddie looked over, noticing the weary expression on your face. He remained silent for a moment – he wasn’t sure what to say either – before finally forcing his brain to come up with something.

“You don’t have to do this, Y/N,” Eddie told you, “Nobody would blame you if you went back home.” You stared at the dark blue and grey sky for a moment, your mind racing with thoughts of ‘is this actually happening?’ before you finally looked up at him.

“For Chrissy?” you whispered. Eddie shot you a smile.

“For Chrissy,” he nodded, holding a fist up with the outside of his hand facing you. You bumped the backside of your own hand against it, both of you taking a deep breath before climbing up onto the roof.

He hopped up on top of the trailer before reaching down and helping you. You grabbed his forearms and he grabbed yours, hoisting you up until you were in front of him. He went to let go, but you didn’t. Instead, you were staring at him, your mouth making small movements until you finally found the words.

“You’re sure this is gonna work?” you asked him.

“No better way to lure over a bunch of blood-hungry demon bats than by playing satanic music, sweetheart,” he winked.

You rolled your eyes, shoving him away from you. He chuckled to himself as he grabbed his guitar, bending down to turn on the amp he, Steve, and Dustin had put up there.

Once you turned the volume up as loud as it could go, you grabbed the binoculars and looked up at Eddie. You gave him a small nod and he did the same, yanking the guitar pick off of the chain around his neck.

“Chrissy,” you heard him murmur to himself before he started playing, “This is for you.”

It took a couple moments for you to start seeing results, but when you did... Oh boy, did you see them. The bats were approaching far faster than you’d expected them too, and you couldn’t pretend you weren’t scared to death. Once the swarm was completely covering your field of view through the binoculars, you knew it was time to get to safety.

“They’re almost here!” you shouted over their screeches, “Eddie, we gotta go!”

Eddie quickly yanked the plug out of his guitar and grabbed your hand, pulling you along with him back down off the room. You scrambled to get inside, Eddie pushing you in before slamming the fence door closed just as the bats reached the trailer.

“God, that was so badass!” you panted, leaning against the wall to catch your breath.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he smirked, “I’ll have to play it again for you sometime.”

However, your moment was ruined when you both jumped at the sound of something hitting metal. You and Eddie shared a terrified look before snapping your heads toward the sound. A demobat had made its way into one of the vents of the trailer, weaseling its way inside.

“Oh, shit!” Eddie shouted, grabbing his makeshift shield and killing it before it could get to you, “Get through the portal!” He followed you to the middle of the room, hoisting you up and watching you tumble back into the real world. But when you reached up to help him through next, he just looked at you.

And you knew what he was going to do.

“Eddie...” you said slowly, “What part of ‘don’t be heroes’ do you not understand?”

“They’re going to go after the others, Y/N,” he shook his head, “I don’t want to run away anymore.”

“Eddie, don’t you dare!” you screamed – much like he had the day you dove into Lover’s Lake to help save Steve – but it was no use; He was already running back out of the Upside Down trailer anyway.

Without hesitation, you climbed back through the portal, landing on the bed with a hard thud. You let out a quiet ‘oof’ before springing to your feet and following him back into the mayhem.

You made it to the gate outside the trailer just in time to watch Eddie running with his makeshift sword and shield, leading the bats away from the portal. You grabbed the spiked bat Steve had insisted you take from Nancy’s arsenal of weapons – “just in case everything goes to shit” – and ran after him without a second thought.

Just as you were getting closer to Eddie, you saw a demobat flying up fast behind him. You knew he wasn’t going to notice it until it was too late, so you immediately charged for it. Eddie spun around when the animal let out a pained screech as it was killed, his eyes widening upon realizing you’d followed him.

“What are you doing, Y/N?!” he shouted, “Go home!”

“Not without you, Munson!” you returned just as loudly, killing another bat as he did the same.

“What did I tell you?! You shouldn’t- Duck!” You did so, letting him kill a bat as it was diving for you. “You shouldn’t be here!” he insisted.

“I never got to help Chrissy through her shit, Eddie! I’m not going to just let you die too!” your voice cracked, making him pause for a moment.

He then grabbed your hand and both of you ran back to the trailer, Eddie closing the gate behind you to buy a moment to talk some sense into you.

“You did not let Chrissy die, Y/N,” he told you.

“I didn’t help her!” you shook your head, not bothering to hold back your tears anymore, “I knew something was wrong! I knew she was acting different! I knew it wasn’t ‘just the depression’ this time! If I just tried a little harder, she would have told me what was going on! And I could have helped her and she would still be ali-”

“Stop it,” Eddie stated firmly, grabbing your face and making sure you were looking at him, “You said it yourself: Vecna’s curse is practically impossible to get out of without knowing you’re in it. There was absolutely nothing you could have done differently. She wouldn’t want you blaming yourself.”

“She wouldn’t blame you for running away either,” you whispered, holding his wrists tightly in an attempt to ground yourself, “She would have run if she saw what you did too.” He stared at you speechless for a moment before swallowing.

“You shouldn’t- Don’t sacrifice yourself for me,” he shook his head, “I’m not worth-”

“Yes, you are!” you sniffled, squeezing him tightly, “Just because you don’t see it doesn’t mean you’re not worth fighting for! You’re weird and loud and obnoxious, but there’s nothing wrong with being a ‘freak’; It’s what makes you you! People like Jason not being able to appreciate it doesn’t mean everybody wants you to disappear! We just want you to be loved!”

You could tell Eddie was getting choked up by the way his eyes started to glisten. You never wanted this to be the way you confessed your feelings, but you couldn’t let him go on his suicide mission without him knowing.

He suddenly pressed his forehead to yours, breathing in deeply and acting as if you were being converged on by a bunch of monsters.

“Y/N,” he swallowed thickly, feelings your own breathing hitch, “Please go home; Get to safety.”

“I’m not leaving here without you, Eddie,” you repeated your earlier statement, “I go where you go.”

“That is the hottest thing any girl has ever said to me,” he admitted, though he still huffed at your stubbornness, “If we make it out of here alive, remind me to kiss you.” You finally let the corner of your mouth twitch into a small grin, making him smile as well.

“Promise?” you asked. Eddie held up his hand, showing you his extended pinky finger. Your small grin only grew, linking your pinky with his.

“Wouldn’t dare break the sanctity of a pinky promise, sweetheart,” he informed you, “Now let’s go kick some demon ass.”

You were sure you fought those damn things for the next 12 hours. They were a lot stronger than you gave them credit for, often needing two or three good hits before falling to the ground. But you and Eddie still gave it your all. You weren’t backing down this time; You weren’t going down without a fight.

But as soon as it all started, it suddenly came to an end. All of the remaining demobats dropped dead at once, and, after a moment in stunned silence, you and Eddie knew that could only mean one thing.

“Vecna’s dead?” Eddie murmured, both of your eyes widening.

“Vecna’s dead...” you whispered before throwing your bat down and bouncing on your feet, “Vecna’s dead! We did it!”

Eddie joined you in jumping excitedly before he discarded his own weapons and reached for you. He grabbed your waist with one hand before wrapping his arms around you tightly. You didn’t even hesitate as you hugged him back, your own arms around his neck and your face buried in his jacket. You both had cuts everywhere, your clothes were shredded, and your hair was a mess, but you were alive.

He lifted you off of your feet and you let your legs dangle against his. You closed your eyes and squeezed each other, simply reminding the other that you weren’t dead and imagining this entire thing. You could feel Eddie start bouncing on his feet,

“‘86 really is my year, baby!” he shouted at the sky, throwing his arms up in victory. You giggled at the outburst, putting your hands on his chest.

“I think you made me a pinky promise if we made it out alive, Munson,” you reminded him. Eddie didn’t even hesitate before grabbing your face again, this time to kiss you like his life depended on it.

When he pulled away to breathe, his eyes were still closed for a moment before he opened them again. He couldn’t stop himself from giving you one more peck on the lips though, moving his thumb to wipe some dirt off of your cheek.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he admitted, and you let a soft breath out of your nose.

“Me too,” you nodded.

“Is now a good time to tell you I’ve had a crush on you since the second you stepped into Mrs. O’Donnell’s class?” he asked you, smiling at the way your eyes lit up.

“Is now a good time to tell you I’ve had a crush on you since you told Jason that no one cared how good he was at ‘tossing balls into laundry baskets’?” you returned, earning a small smirk in response.

He didn’t say anything, though; He just returned his arms to your waist, wrapping you up in another tight hug.

“You are crazy and stupid and a total idiot for following me,” Eddie reminded you, his voice slightly muffled by the skin on your neck.

“A crazy, stupid, total idiot who kept you from being some ugly demon bat’s 3-course dinner,” you reminded him with a big smile.

“I think you mean demobats,” he copied Steve’s voice, succeeding in making you giggle.

“Whatever,” you shoved his head playfully. Eddie finally released you, stepping back and holding his hand out to you.

“Would the lady like to go home?” he bowed obnoxiously.

“Are you going to actually follow me this time?” you rolled your eyes as you placed your hand in his and tangled your fingers together, making him grin stupidly.

“I’ll follow you anywhere you tell me to, sweetheart.”

❀・・・❀・・・❀・・・❀・・・❀・・・❀・・・❀

and everyone lived happily ever after thank u and goodnight

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euphorajeon · 1 year

Text

a kaleidoscope of us | jjk

— pairing: basketball player!jk x named oc

— genre: fluff | high school au, childhood friends au, neighbors au, friends enemies to lovers

— word count: 5.3k

— warnings: childhood stories, jeongguk has always been annoying, jeongguk's crush was serious, junghwa loves him too yall she's just too shy to express it, mention of iron man, mention of jk's eight-pack abs (they're still innocent i swear^^), they're just too adorable :(

— summary: being neighbors with the star player of the school's basketball team since childhood comes with a lot of memories—of rain, ice cream, and of course: love.

— author's note: hope you enjoy reading ggukhwa go down the memory lane! they're too adorable i cannot :(

masterlist | basketball player!gguk masterlist

Graduation days are supposed to be held on a sunny day, where the weather is nice and the sun doesn’t make you sweat through your clothes. It’s supposed to be a day full of excitement, laughter, and joy as you celebrate going away from school and into something much bigger called college. The only thing that could stress you out on graduation day is if you misplaced your cap somewhere and couldn’t find it until the last last minute when you have to go.

(Seriously, though, that sounds like a Jeongguk thing to do and he really did misplace his cap five minutes before he and his family were supposed to go to school.)

Well, the point is, graduation days are supposed to go smoothly without a glitch, but Junghwa’s graduation day decided just to be out of the ordinary by bringing something different into the equation: rain. It was fine in the morning, the sun was shining brightly (which Junghwa slightly hated because it would make her sweat through her graduation gown) and there was no sign of rain anywhere. But the sky turned gloomy as the hour went by, and rain poured down the second the graduates finished tossing their caps into the air.

It was chaos all over as everyone tried to catch their caps before running away to find shelter. Junghwa was thankful that she was with Jiwoo the entire time, who held her hand and never let go even while they were running in search of a place that wasn’t drenched.

They’re back in the school building now, only slightly damp because their graduation gowns took most of the damage. Jiwoo is shaking water off her cap when she suddenly laughs, and when Junghwa looks at her in question, the girl nods her head in the direction of a group of girls standing not far from them.

“Did you see them trying to run in their heels in the rain? It was hilarious.” Jiwoo continues to laugh as one of the girls walks past them while complaining how soaking wet she is. “Mean girls got KO-ed by the rain.”

Jiwoo’s right. They’re the ‘mean girls’ who ambushed Junghwa last year after Jeongguk hugged her in front of the whole school (to protect her from the basketball coming her way, but they didn’t care) and made her come home early afterwards. Then she was forced to play basketball with Jeongguk and the rest is history.

“You know, if it weren’t for them, I think Jeongguk and I wouldn’t be dating right now.”

“You’re dating Jeongguk?!” Jiwoo whisper-shouts, eyes comically wide. Junghwa gives her a flat look which makes her let out a laugh again. “Speaking of Jeongguk, where is he? How come he hasn’t come running for you after this surprising turn of event?”

“Actually,” Junghwa says, lifting up her phone. “He’s texting me right now, asking where I am.”

Jiwoo shakes her head at the information. “He’s so in love with you that it’s gross and endearing at the same time.”

“Don’t say ‘in love’ like that, it’s gross.” Junghwa makes a face as she puts her phone back in her dress pocket. “He’s coming here, by the way.”

“Oh yeay, what a joy to be a third wheel,” Jiwoo fakes her enthusiasm with two weak fists raised in the air before grinning wide to show Junghwa that she’s not serious. “Kidding, I actually have to go soon because my family said they’re coming here to pick me up.”

Junghwa and Jiwoo then chat some more while waiting, talking about some high school memories, their friends, also the college they’re going to attend after this. It’s bittersweet, because on one side you’re pursuing higher education for a better future, but on the other side you have to go separate ways with your friends. Junghwa knows that high school friendships typically don’t last, but Jiwoo is a really good friend and it’s really sad to think that Junghwa is not going to attend the same college as her.

“Looks like your boyfriend’s here,” Jiwoo glances behind Junghwa and she turns around to find a smiling Jeongguk walking towards them. He has his gown hanging on his arm and his cap held in his hands, both wet from the rain just like everyone else’s. When he’s close enough, Junghwa just realizes that his hair is also wet from the rain instead of the styling gel he applied this morning, tufts of black sticking out indicating he’s run his fingers through it enough times to get rid of said gel. Weirdly, he still looks good even with messy hair like that.

“Hi baby,” Jeongguk says when he’s reached Junghwa, putting his arm around her shoulders before squeezing lightly. “Hello to you too, Jiwoo.”

“Hey.” Junghwa smiles back, patting Jeongguk’s cheek twice as a form of greeting. “Why is your hair so wet?” The girl then continues the trek of her hand upwards, feeling some wet strands of hair on her fingers.

The sight makes Jiwoo shake her head, conflicted between being endeared or grossed out by the couple in front of her. “Okay! I think that’s my cue to leave,” she says, opening up her arms to Junghwa. “Last hug before I do?”

Junghwa makes a sad face before embracing her friend in a tight hug. “Don’t you dare forget about me,” she whispers, which makes both girls smile because they know they will stay in each other’s minds even after going separate ways.

Jiwoo bids goodbye to Jeongguk as well before picking up her gown and cap off the floor and walking away. Junghwa watches as her figure gets smaller the farther she walks, and Jeongguk rubs his hand up and down Junghwa’s arm the moment he sees his girlfriend’s lips turn down into a frown.

“You’ll be okay, baby,” he whispers into her hair. “You’ll be okay.”

Jeongguk and Junghwa end up sitting on a concrete bench in front of the school to wait for Jeongguk’s dad to pick them up. Both families had planned to have late lunch together to celebrate Jeongguk and Junghwa’s graduation, and the couple were supposed to go to the restaurant together after the graduation ceremony is over. But mother nature happened, so now Jeongguk’s dad is on the way to pick them up from school.

“How long will it be until your dad gets here?” Junghwa asks as she carefully places her gown and cap beside her, taking care not to sit on it. It’s still awfully wet and she doesn’t want her dress to end up in the same state.

Jeongguk puts his own gown and cap on top of Junghwa’s before sitting down on her other side. “I don’t know, he said he just left the restaurant.” He shrugs. “Oh, and it’s raining, so expect traffic. He’s probably not gonna be here for a while.”

Junghwa nods while absent-mindedly kicking the ground with her sneakers. She looks up to watch the rain only to find her boyfriend staring at her feet with a funny look on his face. Bumping her shoulder with his, a chuckle escapes her mouth as she asks why he’s suddenly so interested in her choice of footwear today.

“It’s just unusual to see someone wearing a dress with sneakers on their feet.” Jeongguk bumps his girlfriend’s shoe with his own sneakers-clad foot. “You look good by the way. In a dress. I haven’t had a chance to tell you that since I saw you this morning.”

The girl scoffs and turns her head to look at the boy beside her to give him an are-you-sure? expression. “Really? With my hair matted to my forehead and semi-damp dress that’s sticking to my skin uncomfortably? You must have a peculiar definition for ‘looking good’.”

The boy laughs and ruffles Junghwa’s hair adoringly (also taking care not to mess her hair up too much) which does seem peculiar because Junghwa didn’t even say anything remotely funny. But hey, this is the same boy who has pined for Junghwa for six years, in a time when they weren’t even talking to each other. If anything, Jeongguk is the definition of peculiar itself.

“Hey, I don’t see you in a dress that much, give me a break.” Jeongguk grins. “And your hair’s fine! It’s still cute, I promise the rain didn’t do much damage.” He traces his fingers on Junghwa’s side braid that they don’t even know the name of, combing through a few tangled strands too while he’s at it.

“Yeah? It’s all my mom, I swear, I graduate high school and she thinks it’s the perfect opportunity to force me in dresses and fancy braids. This—” she gestures to the sneakers covering her feet, “—is a trade off I forced her to agree on. She was making me put on heels, Jeongguk! Imagine me, in heels, running in the rain trying to avoid being drenched. Even those mean girls couldn’t handle it.”

“Mean girls? Who?”

One more peculiar thing about Jeongguk is that he somehow always has perfect timing in situations where it is not really needed nor wanted. First with hitting Junghwa’s nose with his basketball, then hugging her to protect her from the same ball, and now—

“Hi, Jeongguk. Nice hair.”

—being given a compliment by the girl he was just asking about seconds ago. Well, one of the mean girls. Junghwa remembers clearly that she was the one who almost slapped her the day she was being ambushed. She’s also the only one who has the nerve to still flirt with Jeongguk even after he said he’s dating Junghwa. She was even bold enough to give Jeongguk a wink after her (unwanted) compliment about his hair, making Junghwa’s blood boil as she shoots daggers into her retreating back. The audacity of some people.

“Did she just wink at me?” Jeongguk voices out with a scrunched up face. “I wonder when she will stop. I told her over and over again that I have a girlfriend and her actions make me uncomfortable.”

“Why is your hair like that anyway?” Junghwa snaps, seemingly out of nowhere. “Why can’t you just have your hair like a wet dog so you don’t look this good and give her something to compliment you about? Huh?”

The grin Jeongguk lets out at Junghwa’s question is bright, all teeth and scrunched nose. It’s really amusing to him that his girlfriend can’t give him a compliment without sounding upset about it, like a reverse back-handed compliment. It almost sounds like she’s whining, too, about Jeongguk looking so good that he just wants to squish her in his arms right now.

“Okay, first, thank you for saying I look good,” he says around the remnants of his grin, holding up a finger when Junghwa opens her mouth to protest. “Second, my hair is like this because the basketball team dumped a bucket of cold water on my head. You know, boys and their rowdy ways.”

Junghwa looks like she still has some things to say about Jeongguk’s weirdly-well-styled wet hair, but deflates once she realizes there’s no use voicing them aloud. No matter what she says, how hard she denies it, how upset she gets, still doesn’t take away the fact that Jeongguk looks good with his wet strands of hair. Damn him and his good-looking everything.

“It reminds me of that time you played basketball when it was raining outside,” she mumbles instead. “You looked like a wet dog then, and you wouldn’t listen to me when I told you to stop playing and go inside when the rain poured harder. You kept dribbling, running, shooting the ball.. and then what did we get the next day?”

Cringing, Jeongguk allows himself to travel back to that day, just a few weeks before their graduation day. It was only drizzling at the beginning, so he ignored the drops of water from the sky making wet patches on his t-shirt and kept running around dribbling his orange basketball. He caught Junghwa’s attention around twenty minutes into his one-man game, which made him try out cool tricks to impress her. (It didn’t work.)

Junghwa had warned him about the rain and how he could get sick if he continued playing, but Jeongguk being Jeongguk just waved her off while running his hand through his soaked hair, hoping to entice his girl once more. (It didn’t work either.) She only rolled her eyes, trying to look annoyed but they both knew she was actually looking out for him as she continued watching him play.

Jeongguk was practicing his three-pointers when the rain suddenly poured harder, drops of water falling faster than Junghwa could finish calling out for her boyfriend. The sound of water hitting every surface it met greatly drowned out her shouts to get him to go inside, and she almost cried out in frustration when Jeongguk almost slipped on the slippery surface of the small basketball court. It seemed like nothing would stop him from playing basketball in that gloomy weather.

Junghwa ended up going out of her house with an umbrella in hand, marching up to the boy still shooting hoops with anger in every step she took. She dragged him off the court, ignoring his plea to go back to fetch his basketball, rolling forlornly into a puddle of water. When they got inside Jeongguk’s house, Junghyun, his older brother, had taken one glance at them and shook his head at the pair’s antics. Understandable, because it’s always like this with them. Annoying Jeongguk and Annoyed Junghwa.

She found out that all her effort to get him inside was kind of fruitless when she went to his house the next day and was met with a bedridden Jeongguk, droopy eyes and red nose. A touch on his skin felt like touching the embers of a dying fire, making Junghwa grumble even as she changed the wet cloth on Jeongguk’s forehead. His pouts and whines couldn’t get her to soften up and he yelped in pain when Junghwa pressed the cloth too hard on his forehead.

But, eh, as annoyed as she was with him, she never left his side that day.

Present-day-Jeongguk is currently nudging Junghwa’s arm with his in an attempt to get on her good side. “You’re still mad about that? I already said I was sorry..”

When Junghwa doesn’t say anything, he continues. “Besides, don’t you remember how fun it was to play in the rain? We used to do that as kids and you would have the biggest grin on your face, with your hair matted to your forehead and your clothes drenched down to the last thread. We used to run around together and you would step on puddles just so the water would splash on me—”

“Hey! It was you, not me!” A smack lands on Jeongguk’s bicep as the boy guffaws, deliberate in altering their childhood memories. It does the trick though, as Junghwa cracks a smile watching the same memory inside her head. “My favorite part was when your mom would hand us a steaming mug of hot chocolate as we sat side by side on your couch. I would always ask for extra marshmallows and you would always whine when she wouldn’t give you the same amount of it in your mug.”

A fond smile creeps its way into Jeongguk’s lips, remembering how Junghwa’s mug would always be overflowing with the white fluffy sweets, whereas his would be scarce of it. He used to complain about that to his mom, saying how it felt like Junghwa was her child instead of Jeongguk. His mom would always laugh and say that it would be lovely to have a daughter like Junghwa.

“Yeah, you were always my mom’s favorite,” Jeongguk reminisces. “You were over all the time that when you weren’t, all she did was ask ‘Where is Junghwa? Is she not coming today?’. At first I thought it was annoying, until you stopped coming over and made me wonder about the same thing.”

Junghwa shoves the boy on his shoulder, scoffing because the way he said it makes her look like the bad guy. “Hey, you were the one who got into the basketball team and got busy with it! I wasn’t gonna barge into your house and fight Junghyun for the Game Boy, it wasn’t as fun with him because he would always give the console to me the second I asked. Couldn’t even be called a fight.” Junghwa pauses for a bit before remembering something. “Oh, and my parents bought me a PS2 because they noticed I was at your house too much just to use your game consoles. I basically spent my middle school years hooked on that thing.”

Jeongguk scrunches up his face at the mention of Junghwa’s PS2, a console he was slightly familiar with. “Must be boring as heck, always playing against the system and never having the satisfaction of trashing your opponent—me—when you win.”

“Well I play adventure games so I didn’t need an opponent—”

“Oh wait, is that why you brought the PS2 along when we had our summer trip that one time? When there was the beach, the sand, the ocean, but all you wanted to do was hold the controller in your hand and play?”

Junghwa frowns at the memory, recalling the way her parents had forced her to come to the summer trip with the Jeons. She had planned to stay home all summer (because she hated the scorching hot sun) and finish the adventure game she was playing at that time, but her parents were not having it. It was after a lot of negotiations (and tears from her end) that Junghwa managed to pack her PS2 and bring it along to the beach house they had rented for the trip.

While Jeongguk and Junghyun were out enjoying the sun at the beach, Junghwa would always stay back in the house with her hand on a controller. She got scolded by her parents because of that, but Jeongguk’s mom (who has always had a soft spot for Junghwa) would say it was okay and even told her boys to play together with Junghwa like they would back home. They always played after dinner and the exhaustion from his activities in the day would always result in Jeongguk falling asleep on the couch.

So, they did play together on the trip, but it wasn’t the sole reason Junghwa brought her PS2 like Jeongguk thinks it is. She just didn’t like being out in the sun that much.

“Ha-ha, very funny. I remember you also had a controller in your hand at the end of the day, when you were asleep on the couch with drool on the side of your mouth.” Junghwa cackles, the image of thirteen year-old Jeongguk still vivid in her mind. “I wonder if Junghyun still has those pictures of you, they were golden and are not to be forgotten.”

“I think you need a friendly reminder that those pictures have both of us in frame, and I recall you didn’t look very attractive either slumped next to me with one identical controller in your hands.” The boy slouches against the bench, demonstrating how Junghwa looked in the pictures they’re talking about. He closes his eyes and lets out a very unattractive snore from the back of his throat, hands positioned as if he’s holding a PS controller. “This is what you look like in those pictures.”

“Like you said,” Junghwa shrugs, “thirteen year-olds aren’t supposed to be attractive.”

“I think I said eleven,” Jeongguk corrects with his brows furrowed, trying to remember the number. “But eh, memories from those years are blurred together in my head anyway, so it doesn’t make much of a difference.”

“I remember one thing from when we were eleven,” Junghwa says. “We used to bike around the neighborhood and you would always crash your bike against mine. You would do it over and over again while laughing like a maniac, making my hands hurt from trying to hold the handlebar steady. Weirdly, it was your bike that got jammed from all those crashings, not mine. I remember your dad shaking his head disapprovingly when he knew, but he still got you a new bicycle for your twelfth birthday.”

Both smile at the memory, the image of eleven year-old Jeongguk grinning sheepishly as he showed his dad his broken bicycle still clear in their minds. In the time when he was bicycle-less, Jeongguk would sometimes use Junghyun’s bicycle to still ride around the neighborhood with Junghwa. Other times, when she was feeling nice, Junghwa would let Jeongguk get a hold of the handlebar while she sat in the back. He would drive haphazardly and it would always make Junghwa yelp in fear, but every time she asked to switch he always refused.

(Jeongguk would never admit this out loud but he never let Junghwa take the handlebar because he simply liked the feeling of having her arms around his waist. And whenever he swerved left and right, her hold on him always tightened.)

“Yeah, the one I showed off to you as soon as my dad brought it home. You frowned so hard back then I almost thought you were jealous that I got a new bike and you didn’t.” Jeongguk shakes his head with a grin adorning his face. “Oh, speaking of birthday gifts, I remember what you got for your thirteenth birthday,” he continues, a glint of mirth in his eyes that makes Junghwa a bit scared of what’s going to come out of his mouth next.

She asks anyway: “And what would that be?”

“A cone of ice cream on the carpeted floor of the movies.”

As Jeongguk laughs, Junghwa makes his shoulder her personal punching bag for the day. Her punches and smacks don’t seem to affect him, though, as he continues speaking around the remnants of his laugh about the memory involving a fallen cone of ice cream.

“Your parents took you to the movies to watch Iron Man 2 and decided to bring me along, because they knew I also loved the superhero. And because you were a thirteen year-old with a five year-old soul inside her body, you asked for ice cream the minute we got there. I even remember the flavor of ice cream you got, it was cookies and cream, right? You always liked that flavor when you were little.”

“Alright, we all know you have a good memory of that day but I think that’s enough—”

“No, what are you talking about!” Jeongguk says. “This is a classic that must be told until the end. Too good to skip just like that.”

Junghwa rolls her eyes at his enthusiasm to tell the story of a memory she’s not too proud of. It’s silly, everyone must have experienced it at least once in their lives, but it doesn’t make her feel any less bad whenever she gets reminded of it. Unfortunately, the person sitting next to her just happens to be someone with a hobby of just that: reminding her of the stupid things she’d done in the past.

“Okay, where was I?” Junghwa really hates how much fun Jeongguk is having. “Oh, right, cookies and cream. So you got two scoops of said flavor, a glimmer in your eyes, a grin on your lips. I remember you sneered when I asked for a scoop of the same flavor as you, saying I was only doing that to copy you. I tried to prove you wrong by asking my ice cream to be put in a cup instead of a cone like yours. A wise move, might I add, because five seconds after we walked away from the booth you got too excited to watch where you were going and ended up tripping over your own two feet. The face you made when you realized you had just dropped your cone of ice cream was hilarious, I swear, I almost laughed out loud had you not burst out crying right at that second.”

“You did laugh out loud.” A finger is jabbed into Jeongguk’s chest. “You tried to muffle it by eating your ice cream but I knew you wouldn’t miss any opportunity to laugh at me.”

“You have to admit it was hilarious, though, from the way you tripped on literally nothing to the comedic timing of your cry. I also didn’t understand why you would cry over something so trivial like that. Your parents even offered to buy you another cone, but you refused.”

“I didn’t want them to waste more money because I had two left feet.”

“Junghwa, you were thirteen,” Jeongguk says in an exasperated tone, “no one would give you a hard time just because you accidentally dropped your cone of ice cream and asked for another. It’s ice cream, not a car.”

“Yeah, well, if you think like that then why did you share half of your ice cream with me?” Junghwa’s question shuts him up. “Was that why you got the same flavor? Because you knew that somehow I was gonna trip on air and drop my cone of ice cream? Or was there any other hidden motives?”

“Well, it’s not hidden anymore since you know I had had a crush on you since we were eleven.” Jeongguk shrugs like it’s not a big deal. “At first I just wanted to get the same flavor so you’d think I liked the same thing as you, without any intention of sharing it with you. But then you cried when you dropped your cone, and I hated seeing you so sad. At that moment I was thankful that I was a lovesick idiot who only wanted to get your attention—even only by getting the same ice cream flavor—because then I could share my ice cream with you. I felt like I was the one who got rid of your sadness, and it felt nice to know that I was able to make you smile again.”

It feels like a confession all over again, told in a nonchalant manner as if the things he just said are mere facts from when they were kids and not a big revelation of just how serious Jeongguk’s crush on Junghwa was. Junghwa had always thought that Jeongguk was just this annoying kid she was unfortunate enough to have as a neighbor who did things for the sole purpose of annoying her. Never had she thought that behind the annoying label she had always painted him with, there existed a boy who only wanted to make her smile.

“You’re smiling,” Jeongguk points out, a broad smile taking over his own features, “and blushing! I didn’t think my ice cream backstory would be so touching for someone like Park Junghwa. Thanks, babe.”

“Stop teasing me, you ass,” Junghwa hisses with cheeks still warm. “I always thought you shared your ice cream with me just because you felt bad that you still had yours and I didn’t. How was I supposed to know that thirteen year-old Jeongguk was so sweet and pure?”

“Oh, so eighteen year-old Jeongguk is not sweet and pure?”

“You can’t have an eight-pack on your stomach and expect to be called sweet and pure.”

Jeongguk lets out a shy laugh at that, crimson on the apple of his cheeks because Junghwa doesn’t really acknowledge the muscles he has on his body. The shirt-lifting incident a year ago was the only time she seemed affected by it, and Jeongguk would be lying if he said he didn’t feel disappointed every time he flexed and Junghwa never seemed to notice. Well, until now, that is.

(It makes him giddy inside to know that Junghwa even notices it’s an eight-pack instead of the usual six-pack. She pays attention to his body him!)

“Thanks for indirectly saying I’m hot, I know I am.” Jeongguk gives his girlfriend a wink while running his fingers through his (still) wet hair, making Junghwa shake her head at his display of (over)confidence. “But I’ll have you know I’m still as sweet and pure as thirteen year-old Jeongguk.”

“Yeah? How?”

“I still have that Iron Man cup we got after watching the movie.”

Junghwa makes a sound of surprise, eyes round in disbelief. The Iron Man cup in question is really just a regular tumbler with a small Iron Man figurine on the lid that you can detach from it. Junghwa remembers how Jeongguk held it in his hands the whole journey back home because he was afraid that his figurine would end up in pieces if it’s not put in the safety of his hands.

“You’re kidding. It’s been almost six years!” She exclaims.

“No, I’m serious,” Jeongguk grins. “It serves as a reminder of the day I saw the hero of my life and the day I shared ice creams with Park Junghwa.”

“You’re so cheesy it’s starting to get gross, Jeon.”

“You love me though.”

Junghwa can’t even deny it as she looks away from Jeongguk’s grinning face, choosing to stare at the sky instead. It’s still gloomy and pouring, without any sign of stopping soon. She wonders how long they will have to wait outside in this weather before being able to feel the warmth of the restaurant they’re going to after this. Soon, she hopes, because it’s really starting to get cold.

Jeongguk notices how Junghwa is slightly shivering from the cold gust of wind, pulling her into him for a side hug.

“Sorry I don’t have a jacket to give to you,” he says apologetically, hand rubbing up and down Junghwa’s arm in hopes of giving her a little warmth. She leans her head on his shoulder and snakes her arms around his waist, a complete 180 of minutes prior when she said Jeongguk was cheesy.

“It’s fine, you’re warm enough,” Junghwa mumbles into his collarbone. “Your shirt’s kinda damp though. You’ll have to change into a dry one or you’ll get sick.”

“Your dress is damp too,” Jeongguk chuckles. “It’s okay, we can be sick together and eat my mom’s chicken soup while cuddling on my bed. Sounds really nice.”

Junghwa doesn’t respond because turns out being in Jeongguk’s arms like this feels really warm and comfortable, she feels herself wanting to close her eyes and go to sleep. Maybe it’s the exhaustion from the whole graduation ceremony, maybe it’s the running away from the rain, or maybe it’s the talking with Jeongguk earlier. Whatever it is, Junghwa only knows it causes her fatigue right now.

“Hey, that’s my dad,” Jeongguk mumbles when his eyes catch his father’s figure from far away. He waves a hand towards him, and the older Jeon hastily makes his way to the pair still sitting on the concrete bench. “Babe, wake up, dad is here.”

When they’re all safely seated inside Jeongguk’s dad’s car, Jeongguk turns towards Junghwa who’s sitting in the back seat. With a grin brighter than the sun, he asks a question Junghwa wouldn’t expect after the day they just had in the cold rain.

“Want to get some ice cream before we go to the restaurant?”

When Junghwa only responds with a confused expression, Jeongguk continues: “For old time’s sake?”

“Seriously?”

Despite the slightly harsh tone, Junghwa is smiling. Jeongguk knows she’s already giving in from the way her eyes lit up when he referred to their childhood memory, no matter how good the act of pondering she’s putting up right now. He stares at her with hope in his eyes before Junghwa gives up and relents.

“Alright, but I’m getting mint chocolate now instead of cookies and cream.”

“Fine by me, just don’t drop it on the floor again.”

The laugh they share afterwards is warm and comfortable, and Junghwa thinks Jeongguk looks beautiful with his wide grin and scrunched nose. Worthy of getting his picture taken and stored as the first memory in their kaleidoscope of memories, one Junghwa would carry everywhere in case she encounters a cold, rainy day. She hopes she gets to see that smile for a long time, so she can keep adding to the kaleidoscope in her mind.

And as her own grin dims into a smile, she hopes he feels the same way.

— a/n: aaand that's it for jeongguk and junghwa! if you think they're adorable come tell them so here. thank you for reading ^_^

#bts #fanfic #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts au #bts highschool au #jungkook #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook drabble #jungkook au #jungkook fic #jungkook oneshot #jungkook highschool au #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #enemies to lovers #jungkook hs au #jungkook x oc

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shenevertricks1831 · 2 years

Text

Connor Murphy x Psych Ward Reader Pt. 3

Connor goes back to school and learns something about Y/N.

TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of psych ward, mild smutish (more will come) , uh swearing?..I don't know I'm always awful at these, as always read at your own discretion.

PLEASE NOTE: technically this is an AU since Connor is alive and I'm not killing him, so with that I'll also add that in this AU him, Evan, and Jared are friends (and as such they knew what happened and were Connor was) I just wanted that known but didn't know how to write it so it fit with this part..

A/N: Hey guys! Are you liking these? Should I continue? Any ideas or anything? Should I do some writing for more of Mike's characters? Do you guys want some random Connor headcanons? If anyone has any thoughts/feelings/ideas/input please let me know! Love yall!

**********

- Connors lips brushed against yours, you hands firmly grasped his dark locks.

- It had become common for you and Connor to sneak off to the laundry room during the night.

- You didn't do anything to crazy, mostly just talking or making out, nothing more.

- Your tongue gently rubbed against his own, tugging on his hair, urging him on.

- Conners hands rested on your hips. Slowly his fingers began to graze over the waist of your jeans.

- Slowly he pulled aways from your lips. A deep blush coating his cheeks. His thumb softly ran over the button of your pants.

- He looked down, biting his lip before nervously looking in your eyes.

- "C-can I?" He whispered.

- With a blush on your cheeks that matched his own, you nodded and uttered a quiet 'yes'.

- Connor couldn't help the beaming smile that took over him before he collided your lips once more.

- Popping open the button of your jeans as your tongues caressed one another, Connor gently slid his hand into your pants.

- The warmth radiating off you could have burnt him, if he didn't love it so much.

-He could feel the wetness starting to soak through your panties.

- As he moved your underwear the side he began to run his fingers over your slit.

- And then,

- "Connor, sweetie, time to wake up." Cythia knocked softly on her sons door.

- He groaned as he slowly opened his eyes.

- He wished more than anything that his dream had been real.

- And not just because of the sexual aspect, yes he was a horny teenager, but that wasn't why.

- He missed you.

- He'd only been released for a day, and he know you'd be out tomorrow. But it was a vast change from being able to see and talk to you almost whenever.

- As Connor got up and got ready for the day he silently prayed that today would go by quickly so he could see you again.

- He'd made up his mind late last night while he was lost in though, he wanted to date you. After how you two met and with how much you understood each other, he realized he wanted you to be his girlfriend. He planned to ask you tomorrow when you were released. He'd give you the flowers like he promised and ask you.

***

- Breakfast was strange for the Murphy family, no one said much. No one knew what to say.

- Zoey was glad her brother was ok and home, but this was the third time and she had little reason to believe anything would actually change.

- Cythia had made breakfast happily and occasionally threw out little comments about Connor going back to school and how after she'd take him to the flower shop.

- Larry just sat and quietly read over emails. That was the most normal thing of the morning.

***

- When Connor arrived at school he kept his head down.

- He did his best to ignore the stares.

- He knew everyone probably knew why he was gone, and he knew most of them knew it wasn't the first time he'd attempted and been sent the the psych center.

- But he did his best to ignore the looks and the whispers, for you. He knew if he reacted and lashed out that would wind him in trouble; and he feared if he got in trouble he wouldn't be able to see you when you got out tomorrow.

- Connor finally made it to his locker, and that's where Evan and Jared found him.

- "H-hey Connor." Evan quietly greeted him. "Glad you're back." He gave Connor a small but genuine smile.

- "So how was it Connor?" Jared asked as he claped a hand onto Connor shoulder.

- Connor shot him a small glare and Jared removed his hand.

- "So, how was it? Fuck any one in there? Find your soulmate?" Jared asked as a light hearted joke.

- "Jared," Evan scolded him, "y-you can't just ask people stuff like that."

- Just as Jared was about to drop it he realized Connor was blushing.

- Jared's eye shot open. "Holy shit! You fucked someone in the psych ward?!"

- Jared was equal parts shocked and intrigued.

- Connor looked down and swallowed hard.

- "It's really not like that." He tried to quickly brush off the subject. Shutting his locker and walking down the hall as Evan and Jared followed him.

- "Hey come on man, it's alright." Jared told him. "I mean I guess my cousin met someone in the psych ward, so I guess it's not that weird or uncommon."

- Connor's pace slowed.

- "Your cousin?"

- "Yeah," Jared replied, "My Aunt Shell's daughter, she's uh," he rubbed his neck awkwardly, unsure of how to talk about this, "she's in the teen psychiatric center right now. I guess she met some boy there."

- Connor wondered, and he stopped walking.

- "What's her name?" His voice but quiet but firm he needed to know if it was her.

- "Huh? Oh, my cousin? Y/N." Jared answered. "Her mom's getting divorced so they're moving in with us for awhile. She starts school here next week."

- Connor couldn't help the blush that came to his face or that smile that continued to grow bigger and bigger as Jared spoke.

- Jared caught the look on Connor's face. And it only took a second for him to piece it all together.

- "You fucked my cousin Murphy?!" He practically screamed.

- Connor smirked, "Well, not yet."

- And with that Connor walked into class, leaving Evan and Jared in the hall.

- His heart swelling from the fact that you'd be at the same school as him.

#connor murphy #connor murphy headcanon #connor murphy x reader #connor murphy x reader headcanon #dear evan hansen #deh #mike faist #mike faist character

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kithtaehyung · 2 years

Text

stay (3tan) (m) | myg

title: stay (the weekend, pt. 2) pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series: masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball rating/genre: m (18+) ; fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: after almost a whole weekend of misses, you and yoongi finally hit your stride. and after almost a whole year of almosts, you finally capture those moments you’ve been waiting for. warnings: cursing, choking, protected sex, penetration, more overthinking, fingering, restraints (his hands), cunnilingus, body worship, spanking, cockwarming, his hands yall don’t say i didn’t warn you, breast play, sl*t mentions, light slapping, …a mirror……., a jk appearance..., min yoongi in general, does fluff count as a warning bc i think it rly should lol note: uhh. surprise? >:) happy start of minmarch ig lolol. thank you to my lovelies @sugakookitty @yoon2k and @joheunsaram for being amazing betas as usual and putting up w me !! :’)) and a huge thanks to everyone that’s been encouraging and supportive along the way. this part is the biggest yet and i wanna say so much here but i will refrain. there will just be lots in the author’s note at the end :) and yoongi? screw you for spoiling everyone way too much this time around LMAO note 2: oh! if you haven’t read the rest of the three tangerines series, i highly encourage you to read those before this one! it would make more sense. drop date: march 2nd, 2022, 7:17pm est word count: 18.6k!!! HUH..

What the fuck was that sound?

Yoongi’s already whipping his head on his pillow before he can fully get his eyes open, twisting his body and rushing out of bed.

His footsteps are fast but his thoughts are faster, turning his mind into mush as he struggles to get full vision on the way to his door.

What the fuck is going on? Better not be a break-in at seven in the fucking morning. No quicker way to set him o—

“—do you keep all your stuff, old man? Can’t find a damn thing.”

Oh.

Shit.

That’s your voice.

And you sound like you’re in the kitchen. Which would explain the bang he heard—had to have been a cabinet.

Yoongi’s hand slips from his doorknob, finger by finger, shoulders relaxing and breath leaving his mouth in a slow exhale.

Damn. When was the last time he woke up to someone in his place? Apparently it’s been forever because you scared the shit outta him. He forgot you were even there.

Cracking open his door, he watches as you gather a container from one of his counters before setting it down to grab something else. The face you make is nothing short of adorable as you visibly frown, contemplating a decision.

That’s his cue to make himself known, but he has to hide his amusement because he visibly spooks you as he says, “Hey.”

“Oh, fuck,” you whoosh out, your hip connecting with some cabinets. Your next sentences come out strained. “I didn’t know when you’d be up. But I made food and it’s damn good, so you better eat it.”

You did what? For him?

“Me?”

“Yeah! There.”

Yoongi follows your pointing hand to his table, and that’s when he notices a foiled plate, chest feeling slightly heavier yet lighter at the same time.

Waking up to someone in his place is one thing. But waking up to someone making him food from his own kitchen?

That hasn’t happened in years.

Your voice tugs him out of his temporary stupor. “I figured you don’t really get time to get food, so...”

He doesn’t look your way. Because he can’t at the moment. All he can really do is speak, and even then it’s in monosyllabic spurts. “Shit. Thanks.”

“I also accept money.”

A laugh leaves his throat before he can hold it in. Your wit is still so damn attractive, he’ll admit that. “A hustler at heart.”

“Maybe so. Your fault by saying I could use your kitchen, though.”

That’s news to him. Turning to you, he asks with a cocked brow, “I said that?”

“You did,” you reply, expression suddenly wary and a third as confident.

When did he say that? What else did he say? Judging from the way you’re looking at him, he’s assuming you’re waiting for him to ask that out loud or hope he remembers.

And since he’s blanking, he chooses the latter. “What else did I say?”

“Uh.” You pause. Are you gonna tell the truth? He was dead tired last night. Honestly, after fucking you, his brain decided to not remember much else. Fuck, he really is getting old. “Not much.”

When will you learn that you can tell him anything? Especially if you’re looking at him like that, like you’re sad he doesn’t remember.

Because damn, he wishes he does. He really has no fucking clue what happened. “You sure?”

“Yeah. Just that you didn’t get me food but I could use your kitchen.”

“Mm.” That’s more than he expected but you’re still hiding something. Whatever the hell he said, he had to have meant it. He really wants to know.

So he’s gonna get it out of you.

Because he truly wants you to get that you don’t ever have to keep shit from him. If anything, that would bother him more than you telling him the truth.

From what he does remember from last night, you told him that same exact thing. So why act against that yourself?

Both of you are so similar.

Walking into his kitchen, he sees your eyes unblinking as you watch him close in, wondering if you’re gonna break easy or not.

It’s then that he realizes you’re wearing something different than what you wore last night. A simple shirt and sweats, and yet you’re just as attractive as how you looked walking onto the court the other day.

He wonders if you realize that. You probably have no clue.

“I think you’re lying,” he mutters after leaning a hand on his counter, blocking you from the one exit you could’ve used. “Are you?”

Your eyes answer before you do, and more truthfully. “It was nothing.”

The hell it wasn’t. Your mood shifted way too much and too easily for that to be the case.

But Yoongi knows that he just needs to be patient with you. Because from the looks of things, it seems like no one else has been.

Touching your chin, he whispers, “Last night wasn’t nothing, doll.” After watching your eyes flicker and soften, he admits, “I just don’t remember shit after coming.”

“Oh,” you breathe out, relaxing instantly.

That’s all you needed.

“You told me to stay.”

Yoongi stills.

Not because he wanted you to stay—that was his intention from the start. Why else would he have told you to get your shit before coming over? Why else would he have driven you back to his place?

He sure as hell wasn’t gonna make you go back home after all that.

With another thought, Yoongi remembers the reflex he had after you joked that you walked home after driving him back. And what went down on the court the day before.

Yeah. He wasn’t gonna let that shit happen, jokes or not. Of course he meant for you to stay that late.

He’s just shocked he felt the need to say it out loud.

A thousand thoughts race through his brain, and he has to blink them all away. Because he can’t think about those right now. Or ever. You’re off-limits. And those thoughts cannot be considered for someone off-limits.

“I meant it,” is all he can really say, dropping his hand. Because fuck, if he said that without even remembering, he must’ve really wanted to say it.

But why were you so hesitant to tell him that?

“Did you not want to?”

“Oh, no no,” you stutter out, like you always do when you’re shy. It’s one of the things he likes about you; you’re almost always confident until coming to terms with what you’re really thinking. “It’s not that. I just heard that you didn’t like people staying.”

That’s true.

“I don’t.”

“I dunno. I just thought…” You look away, as if you don’t wanna say the rest out loud—again.

But Yoongi will wait. He’ll wait. And wait.

And wait.

“I didn’t want you to feel some type of way about it.”

A half-smile jumps onto his face. Why the hell are you so cute? “Like what?”

“Like, I dunno, regret it. Or something.”

He shakes his head, straightening himself to hold back everything he wants to say to you. There’s so much on his mind. But he’ll spare you. “I don’t, doll.”

“Okay.”

Besides, he’s already gonna be late if he keeps talking to you a bit longer, as much as he fucking wants to. He still needs to get ready.

Shooting a look at the foiled plate on the table, he turns back to you and wonders, “Did you even sleep?”

Your expression twists into one of embarrassment. Caught, and adorable. “Not really.” You gather the last pan from his stove before going back to his sink, swiping any lingering grease from it with a napkin before putting it under water. “I took the couch, though. Maybe that’s why.”

Yoongi can only blink.

Is he still asleep? What the hell are you doing to him?

If he truly asked you to stay, he didn’t mean take the fucking couch.

But you did anyway.

Because why wouldn’t you?

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay! I can just nap later.”

Thinking back, you didn’t stay when you took him home the first time, which he didn’t remember shit from, either. Fuck, he’s exhausted, but that’s not the point.

The point is that, despite having several chances to do so, you didn’t overstep. Despite showing him—and telling him—how much you wanted to be here, you just…

He might be in trouble.

Not that he’s not already in deep shit anyway. He shouldn’t have agreed to doing anything else with you, nor went to your fucking house as much as he did. And he sure as hell shouldn’t have taken you to his bed a second time.

But he’d do it all again, and he doesn’t have a damn clue why.

Even now, as he’s inching closer to you by his sink, he doesn’t have a reason. He doesn’t want one. Because reason doesn’t have a place in anything he’s done this weekend, much less the past couple weeks.

Not when all he can think about is you telling him that you missed him.

Has he heard that before?

Of course he fucking has. Countless times.

But hearing it from you somehow drove something into his chest, and he almost forgot where he was. Which was dangerous, since he was in his fucking car.

It was the shock of your admittance alone that got him to admit the same thing.

And admit some other things to himself, nights afterwards. Like the fact that he can’t read you as well as he thought he could.

Holy fuck, he hasn’t been in this position in a long ass time.

It’s with this thought that he stops himself. Reluctantly, he grits his teeth before making a decision, and he fakes a smile while reaching out to lightly tap your chin with a finger.

“You’re so cute.”

“Am not!”

Yoongi walks back toward his room to change—certainly not to just step away for a second—and throws a question over his shoulder,

“You ready?”

“Yeah, I got everything.”

“K. Gimme ten.”

And though he will never admit it out loud, he missed cornering you in his kitchen. The last time he did that, he was under the impression you were with someone else. Even more off-limits than before.

But now?

Fuck. He can’t think about now.

The both of you have to go.

Taking off his shirt, Yoongi places it on his desk chair before rummaging through his drawers and closet to figure out what to wear. After choosing a standard white tee and some joggers, he grabs a black hat from its hook before thumping everything on the bed.

The clanks of pans make their way into his room, and he blows air from his nose when he hears you opening multiple cabinets. You’re probably stressing over where to put everything. Hilarious.

“Left side of the oven,” he calls out, and softly snorts at your exasperated,

“Damn it, I knew it.”

Grabbing one of the chains from his nightstand, he clips it on while walking to his bathroom, getting ready while trying not to think about everything he has to do this week.

If only that setback hadn’t happened last night. Yoongi’s sure they would’ve gotten everything done on time if not for that screw-up. The plan is to get in and out today and go the fuck home to sleep.

He wishes you could stay longer.

But your brother doesn’t stay gone for more than a weekend, always coming back Sunday nights and inviting him out for a drink.

It’s his fault for crashing on you two nights in a fucking row. It seems like he can’t ever do something right when it comes to you.

He swears to make this whole thing up to you the next chance he gets. You deserve it, even though he doesn’t deserve you in the slightest.

Walking back out of his room fully changed and ready, he still has his friend in mind, asking your sitting form at the table,

“Am I taking you straight home? You sure he’s not already at the house?”

The look on your face is strange. You tilt your head as you grab your bag, “He didn’t tell you? He’s gone for a whole week this time.”

What? A whole week?

Why the fuck did air leave his lungs?

“Oh, shit, really?”

You’re standing by his table now, anticipating him walking you out. “Yeah, that’s what he said.”

Wheels are churning in Yoongi’s head, a change in plans suddenly favorable to him for once.

Wait. Why were you so worried about this weekend if your brother was gone for a whole week?

Did you really think he was just down for one more night? After finally seeing you take up his bed after a whole goddamn year?

The smirk Yoongi slips to you isn’t because of what he says aloud, but what he’s thinking instead. “Damn, they got him working.”

“I know.”

One foot steps in front of the other, one by one as he launches into a series of questions that you’re going to answer, brain trying its damned best to tug him backwards because this is absolutely not what he should be doing.

“…So a whole week, huh?”

You freeze. “Yes...”

Don’t ask if you got plans. “You got plans?”

The gulp you swallow catches his attention immediately. “Not really…”

He’s in front of you now, staring into your eyes from below the rim of his cap. Nothing leaves either of your lips as he waits to say what he wants to next. The words almost die on his tongue, but he brushes off the stupid shit called nerves and logic before he rebels,

“Then why am I taking you home?”

It’s almost comical how fast your expression changes, pretty eyes widening and lips floundering. Yoongi has to hold everything in when you grasp for words.

“I— I figured you wouldn’t want me here if you weren’t.”

Makes sense. Honestly, he himself doesn’t know why he’s acting like this, somehow fine with letting you stay for the few hours he’ll be gone. But his mouth is running on its own before the rest of his body can catch the fuck up. “You’re not a snooper, are you?”

“What? No.”

“Then we’re good. But, promise me you’ll get your shit done.”

There. He knows you have things to do, knows you have a laptop stashed in your bag stuffed between the clothes you wore yesterday. That can be his excuse. For now.

“But what if I’m lazy?”

Yoongi snorts as he steps back to give himself some space. As much as he appreciates your honesty, he responds, “Well, tough shit. Do whatever you need to do today.”

“Okay… If you’re sure…”

“I am. And when I get back…” He reaches out to playfully flick your nose. “I’m gonna crash, okay?”

“Huh?”

“Just for an hour or so. Can’t have you distracting me again, but. Don’t wanna pass out on you again, either.”

“You sure you’re okay with me staying?”

“Why not?”

“I just… I dunno.”

Yoongi stuffs his hands in his pockets. “You can leave if you wanna.”

Your quick rejection of that makes his mouth curve upward, and he lets you continue,

“As long as you’re really okay with it.”

Of course he is. There’s no way in hell he would’ve suggested it if he wasn’t. You’re just someone he feels that he can trust, especially after everything you’ve done for him in the last forty-eight hours. “No sweat, doll. I’ll be back soon anyway.”

Reaching around you, he picks up the food you made—shamelessly brushing his fingers along your arm in the process. Looking down at the aluminum cover, he finds his mind as crinkled as its surface.

A decision is made. “I can’t lose to you.”

“What?”

His gaze flicks back up to yours. How can he even make things up to you if you keep one-upping him? Making him food to bring to work should make him feel weird, but he just feels like slamming the plate back on the table and laying you right across the wooden surface to devour instead.

But he reins all of his thoughts in. He’s so fucking late for work now. “I got the next one. Food wise.”

“Oh. Okay.”

There’s something laced in your tone. But what are you thinking? Is he doing too much? “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you say through an unsure smile. Your eyes are so brilliant right now. “You’re just… different today.”

Oh. Damn, he’s in deep if even you notice a change. Playing off the slight buzzing in his stomach, he simply tosses you a wink. “Gotta keep you guessing.”

Going to his door, he lazily points to the open space of his living room while aiming seriousness your way. “Don’t mess with my shit.”

And your tiny laugh is music to him before you reassure, “I won’t.”

“K.”

With an open and close of his door, Yoongi’s now faced with silence and expectations and reality again.

And he already wants to turn around and go back inside.

But he doesn’t, yanking his shoes from the ground to venture to his car, all while feeling stress from the weekend mount both shoulders.

On the entire way to the studio, his thoughts drown out the music sliding out of his speakers and the humming of the drive itself.

He’s not thinking about work, per se. But something else that’s causing his stomach to turn and his breathing to shorten.

Fear.

Not the fear that they won’t make the deadline or meet expectations—because they’re gonna—but the prediction that they’re gonna blow things out of the water.

Their studio is still lowkey. Frankly, he doesn’t know how this artist knew to reach out to them for production. It wasn’t until Jungkook told him that it’s a friend of a friend that Yoongi was somewhat convinced.

If things go well with this…

He doesn’t wanna put any labels to it or jinx anything, but it may damn well be life-changing.

And he doesn’t know if he’s ready for that.

It’s the reason he’s been checked out of everything else lately. Dipping in the middle of the night to go in and practice shit. Try things. Figure things out on his own. He’s been so complacent for years that an opportunity like this one is causing him to stress constantly, wondering if it’s going to amount to anything but still expecting the worst.

Rolling up to the building, Yoongi sighs and sits for a good few seconds before finally leaving his car with your food.

The studio seems void of people when he unlocks to get inside, but he doesn’t pay any mind, heading straight for his workspace behind the door at the end of the hall.

When you asked him how the music thing was going, he was on the cusp of something. A crossroad. He didn’t want to talk about it because… well, he just didn’t. He doesn’t prefer to talk about himself. If anything, he would rather let his results and craft speak for him.

At least, once he has something concrete. Which he doesn’t exactly have until this project is finished.

Or maybe it’s because of the same thing that’s hovering above his bones now. Fear. A feeling that if he talks about it, the less likely it would happen. Besides, if people didn’t know his dreams, how could they possibly shoot them down?

But you didn’t do that at all. If anything, that was the most encouraging conversation he’s had about something personal to him and it only lasted seconds.

You have no idea how much that affected him. Weeks after that night, he took a chance and joined this very studio, imposter syndrome consuming him everyday but his passion fighting it tooth and nail.

As he sits himself in a chair that’s bared his weight for hours at a time, Yoongi stares at the equipment in front of him, trying his hardest to calm his nerves and ignore the slew of notifications that just won’t stop.

Actually.

Yoongi fishes out his phone, moving to set it on Do Not Disturb before seeing your name between all the numbers on his lockscreen. After he opens your thread, the things he’s greeted with aren’t straightforward hookup texts, pictures, passive aggressive messages, or anything like that.

Just a bunch of food emojis.

He glances at your plate in front of him.

Fucking adorable. Still texting him like a person desperately trying to keep a secret.

But he’ll play along for now. After all, he’d rather see you react to the texts he wants to send you in person.

Shooting you an inconspicuous thumbs up, he then goes back to silencing his phone.

Until he does something that his brain is very much going to call him out for.

Hovering over your name, he decides to set your thread for notifications, not wanting to think too much about it before stuffing his device back into his pocket.

It’s nothing. You’re just at his damn apartment. If something goes sideways he definitely wants to know.

Right.

“Bout time you showed up!” Someone shouts from the other side of the door.

Yoongi turns before getting up to reach for the handle, letting them inside. “Sup, Kook.”

There’s a pop of a can before a response. “We finished Track Five without you.”

As his boss continues to guzzle down whatever the hell he’s drinking, Yoongi leans on one of the arms of his chair. The guy had failed to mention that he contributed a bulk of the production on Five, but whatever. “Uh huh.”

“Relax,” Jungkook jovially drawls before dumping himself on the sofa behind him. “I know you helped a lot on that. Fuck, I’m tired.”

Yoongi turns back to the table. “Where’d you go this time?”

“The usual. Joji.”

Figures. A huff escapes his nose. “You aren’t tired of that place?”

“If the girls aren’t, I’m not.”

Yoongi tsks before shaking his head, rolling over to the far keyboard. “Girls love Joji.”

“Girls love Joji,” Jungkook airily repeats, and Yoongi can hear him crush the can before chucking it in a bin. “Let’s do this.”

Hold up. They aren’t gonna wait for anyone else? Usually everyone is present and huddling around the room. “Where are they?”

“Napping.” His boss goes to fiddle with the equipment, hoodie fully on his head and covering his entire profile. “They stayed overnight after you left.”

“The fuck? Really?”

“Yeah. Even I couldn’t get them to leave.”

“Damn.”

“What even happened last night?”

“One of the samples didn’t actually clear.”

“What?” Jungkook sounds appalled, and his eyes are most likely saucers under those obnoxiously blonde bangs. “Which one?”

Tongue sliding along his lips, Yoongi just holds up two fingers while still heavily focused on the computer.

“The title track? What the fuck.”

“Yeah. We spent forever trying to spin something else up.”

“Shit. I can call them and see what’s going on.”

“Good luck. They didn’t answer when we tried.”

“Fucking bullshit.”

“I’m sayin’.”

Yoongi starts typing something on the keyboard while his brain whirrs with ideas and potential solutions. Hopefully Kook can pull this miracle off and get them time back because, if not, that’s gonna stay a huge setback. If a client of this caliber gets a delay on their first project with this studio, Jungkook can kiss any other opportunities goodbye.

Shaking his head, he banishes any negative outcomes from his mind, snapping into focus on the programs in front of him.

He can’t step away again. That’s the only reason he left when he did last night. His stress got to the point of debilitation, and his partners told him to go the fuck home because he wasn’t going to be useful if he stayed anyway. They were right.

But apparently he wasn’t useful outside of work, too, because he didn’t even fucking realize what he was making you go through. Fuck, he felt like an ass when you answered that phone call. If he had just told you everything, you wouldn’t have been so worried since, when did you say? Basketball?

Yoongi doesn’t know why that was the start of your worries, but he believes you. If you had witnessed what happened after you left…

Blowing air from his nose, Yoongi grabs the nearest set of headphones while hearing Jungkook hum one of the beats they crafted.

Focus. Get shit done so he can go home. Back to you, and back to sleep.

“What’s that?”

Yoongi takes his cap off before rubbing his head. “Huh?”

Jungkook points to the plate on the edge of the table and, for some reason, he doesn’t answer right away. “My food.”

“Can I have so—”

“No.”

His boss simply wrinkles his nose in a mix of curiosity and amusement. “Who made it? Sure as hell wasn’t you.”

“Why not?”

“Am I wrong?”

Yoongi just huffs before turning back to his monitor, taking the laughs that Jungkook aims at his side.

“You never told me you were seeing someone.”

“I’m not.”

“Uh huh.” Plopping into the rolling chair next to him, the boy simply leans his head back. “But I get it. I respect the privacy.”

After a few moments of peace, the silence is disrupted.

“Are they hot?”

Yoongi bursts into a snort while sporting a smile, not giving him anything but imagining your reaction to his question if you were here in person. What he wouldn’t give for that to be the case.

“Fuck you,” Jungkook teases before scooting forward to start working. “You’re always so cool, I hate it.”

More genuine amusement shoots from Yoongi’s nose, and the both of them finally get to business and work well into the next few hours.

Even after he finally tried your food and paused because of how great it was, they kept going. When you texted him an adorable speaker emoji and a question mark, he quickly shot you a single word because he didn’t know if there was actually a desk emoji or not. Truly, the only moments he paused had to do with you, and both of them were pleasant breaks in his day.

The one thing that completely halts their progress is the frustrating succession of yawns that consume him for a span of three whole minutes. Fuck.

“Bro, what is up,” Jungkook asks after he pauses the current track. “You seem super out of it.”

No shit. He definitely is. Yoongi rubs his face with both hands. “I’ll be okay.”

“I dunno.” Fiddling with some dials and clicking around on the computer screen, his boss continues, “You need to go?”

At this point, it’ll be hard to lie. Yoongi doesn’t think he’d be able to drive home if he stays like this much longer. And thinking of you and not wanting a repeat of what happened before, he decides to cut his losses here and admit, “I might.”

It’s one thing to say that he’d peace out early. But while in the studio, leaving is a lot harder to do, especially since the other guys aren’t back yet. Kook would end up by himself.

“I’ll be okay if that’s what you’re worried about,” a soft voice beside him assures, and he doesn’t know how Jungkook was able to respond to his thoughts so quick. “I mean, I dipped last night anyway. Can’t really complain now.”

“You sure?”

“You look like shit, dude. Yeah.”

Yoongi nods before taking off his headphones, leaving them in hands resting on his thighs. It’s taking way too much energy to even get up at this point.

“And they’ll be back soon. We got it.”

Well. If they got the rest…

Another nod is Yoongi’s first response before he finally sets the headset on the table. It takes him a bit to vacate his chair, but when he does, Jungkook spins to face him.

“Sleep,” he orders as Yoongi settles his cap back on. “And then thank me by fessing up about who you’re seeing.”

“Not seeing anyone, Kook.”

“Of course you aren’t. But tap that extra hard for me, yeah?”

Yoongi slowly shakes his head while tugging the door open, throwing a goodbye over his shoulder,

“See you tomorrow.”

“See ya!”

Books.

Yoongi has books under his coffee table.

As you’re shutting down your laptop, you scan over the various titles and spreads you see, noticing with a cocked head that it’s a pretty interesting collection. Some seem like biographies of old school rap artists, a few manga volumes, and there are even cookbooks scattered around. There’s even something on classic… poetry?

Hmm.

Wait.

Yoongi reads?

When have you ever seen him with a book in his vicinity? Had he ever mentioned anything about reading or anything of the sort? Are these just gifts his family had given him and he just kept?

No. Judging by the near scarceness of his place, you quickly determine that he’s intentional with his stuff. There isn’t much displayed, but you know for a fact that everything that’s out is something he uses. Whether that’s daily or not, they all have their purpose.

And that’s attractive as hell.

Glancing at your phone, you notice the time and figure that he may be back soon.

Before you even think about what to do for the rest of your waiting, you try for the eighty-ninth time to grasp the fact that Yoongi let you stay.

It was enough for you to hear him tell you to stay last night without even knowing. But this time, you’re damn sure he was fully awake.

What does that mean? Did it even mean anything?

You might just be looking into things. Certainly, overthinking something like this will only get you lodged into places that you can’t help yourself out of.

Geez. Taehyung would have a ball if you end up telling him everything.

But you decide to keep this all close to your chest for now. Enjoy this momentary solace with someone you’ve been wanting to see for months and months. Whether he simply meant it as a nice gesture or something more, you’re going to make the most of it.

And maybe do some pretending.

Pretending that you can be someone that can be with him in public, or any of those scenarios you thought about on a balcony far away.

Your playlist keeps going as you start moving into the kitchen, putting some bounce in your step and getting you in an even better mood.

Turning towards the sleek device, you know you should’ve expected Yoongi of all people to have a really nice speaker. When you asked him if he had one earlier, you were pleasantly surprised to see it was a high-end brand with fantastic sound. Honestly, you might ask him if you can borrow it from time-to-time.

Well. Maybe. Are the two of you friends enough to ask stuff like that? Would that look weird to other people?

Yeah. You’re gonna cook again. Because you need a distraction.

But there’s another reason, too. Even though he said he won’t lose to you, your competitive side won’t allow you to lose to him, either. Especially when it comes to food.

Geez. You’ll pay him back for all the stuff you’re using.

Gathering everything you need, you start on something for lunch, singing and dancing along to whichever artists decide to join you while you work. Distraction, distraction. Pretending, pretending.

What the fuck, he really did let you stay.

With a lift of your lips, you silently hope he’s doing well at the studio.

And your grin only grows when you notice that a lot of your songs are by the people lying down in books in the living room.

You make good progress.

As sunlight beams into the kitchen from his dining table window, you still bustle around, vibing and singing along to words you both know and don’t. Drums and bass pulse from the high counter of his bar, and it’s so loud that you don’t even notice someone’s coming inside until—

“Hey.”

Instead of being shocked like this morning, you’re in such a good mood that you just turn and smile. “Hey!”

Yoongi looks at you strange before scanning the kitchen. “What the hell is all this?”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll clean everything! I just wanted to…”

Your words slowly dissipate on your tongue.

Clocks slow.

Why is he walking towards you like that? Why does time seem to bend right now?

“To…”

What is that look on his face?

“Win,” you whisper, suddenly caged in his arms as he pins you to the nearest counter. Dozens of emotions ping between your chest and his as he leans in, and your next words come out incredibly small but mighty in intention. “I can’t lose to you, either.”

Though your music wasn’t paused, you still can’t exactly register which song is playing, nor hear the sizzling of the pan. All you can focus on is the enormous presence in front of you, suddenly acutely aware of how much you missed him even though it’s only been hours. How he’s able to charge the atmosphere around you in the span of seconds will always be a mystery.

Yoongi just stares and stares, his eyes roaming across your face and traversing every ridge, every valley, every imperfection that you know you have but he will deny. Why do you know that? How do you know he would?

His eyes are lidded, lowering as much as his voice when he asks, “Why are you so…”

So what? What is he thinking?

How long had he been standing there before announcing himself because his actions feel—

You don’t get to hear the rest of it because Yoongi’s suddenly kissing you, sparks flying as you’re flung back to last night.

Last night was quick, desperate, needed. And this contact feels the same, as if your actions all those hours ago never left your bodies, vibrating in your bones until you connected again.

You don’t even notice you’re fisting his shirt to pull him in until he comments, proudly,

“I love when you do that.”

“Do what?”

“What you want.”

You heat from the inside. Encouraged and high on adrenaline, you go for his neck, fire flaring in your belly at the groans jumping out of his throat.

His hands seize the back of your head and your waist as he tilts back, and when you lick his pulse, you feel fingers dig into your skin—hard.

“Bab—”

Damn it! An alarm rings through the kitchen, yanking another curse out of your mouth. Reluctantly, you pull away before going to retrieve a dish from the oven, body reeling with the aftershocks of his attack.

Yoongi takes a second to say something, and your breathing is still rough when he rasps out,

“Didn’t I say it was my turn?”

“You did,” you respond through a grunt, hauling the glass out and putting it on a rack. “But you never said I couldn’t cook again.”

A tsk.

You think Yoongi will drag himself into his room after he concedes but, instead, he removes his cap before going to wash his hands.

“What are you doing?”

“Helping.”

“But”—you swirl the contents of your pan around with a spatula—“I thought you were gonna pass out?”

“Change of plans.”

Smiling down at your creation that smells incredibly enticing already, you tease, “Don’t think just because you’re helping that this counts.”

Yoongi immediately fires back through a chuckle, “I can play dirty if that’s how you wanna do this.”

And you respond in kind, still reeling from the previous embrace. “Well, so can I.”

“No chance.”

When you finally turn to face him, he’s already putting down some vegetables on a cutting board, shoulder blades working under his white shirt as he starts chopping.

Fuck. Turn back around. Now.

So you do, tasting what you have going already and turning off the oven. As you’re seasoning a few moments later, Yoongi comes up behind you and starts reaching for something on a high shelf, brushing against you a little too much and making you jerk forward. “Hey—”

“Whoops.”

“Ass!”

The both of you keep going with your respective tasks, and Yoongi comes up to place another saucepan next to yours for his veggies. As he does his own seasoning and tossing, you’re finding it harder and harder to concentrate on your own food, your stirring getting slower, and slower, and slower.

“You waving a white flag?”

Blinking, you pierce his stupid smirk with a glare before lowering your pan’s heat. “As if. Oh, do you have water?”

“Yeah,” he juts his chin toward somewhere behind you. “Next to the fridge.”

“Thanks.”

All you need to do is wait for your food now, so you take a bottle and lean against the counter nearest his appliance. As you sip, you watch with piqued interest as Yoongi finishes his dish and slides the contents into a bowl.

Reading. Cooking. Apparently still playing basketball.

All of these things make up the Yoongi you don’t know, but you really, truly want to. Seeing him simply live his life outside of his regular scenes puts a small smile on your face, and you almost feel like someone looking in instead of actually being present.

It has to be because you still think you’re dreaming. In your wildest imagination, you never would have guessed that you would wind up where you are now—after years and years of knowing a crush is all he’d ever be to you.

Floating. You feel like you’re floating. Nothing in the moment can bring you down and you feel like you can do anything.

However, what you choose to do? It’s going to be childish. Borderline idiotic.

But you can’t squash the flare of playfulness in your belly as you eye the running water that Yoongi’s using to wash his cutting board. It gave you this idea and you’re gonna see it through.

Taking one last little sip, you sneak your way over to his side of the kitchen, the steady beat of the next song coming on shuffle. One step, two steps, one step more.

Butterflies lift your feet to close the gap.

You’re about to do this. It’s happening.

It’s during the third bar that you pour your bottle right over Yoongi’s head, cackling as his shoulders shoot up while the rest of his upper body jerks down.

“The fuck!”

You’re already darting from the kitchen but his shout follows you, and while you’re frightened that he might be right on your heels, you peek from behind his sofa to assess. All you can see is his upper body above the bar, but it’s enough.

He’s simply shaking his head before brushing his hair back. There’s a glimpse of his mouth that you can see, too, and you’re shocked to observe that his lips are turned upward instead of down as he keeps creased eyes on his sink.

“Shouldn’t’ve done that, doll.”

Oh, god.

Why isn’t he retaliating right away.

…This may backfire.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you warily joke, gripping the half-empty container in your hand and crumbling under the way his strands stick to the sides of his head.

“Come back here and find out.”

“I’m good over here.”

A small, impish laugh sparks from behind the partition separating his kitchen from the rest of the apartment. “Okay,” Yoongi stretches out in warning, voice light but threat dark. “Guess all this food is mine now.”

“No!” you protest while staying right where you are. “It was just water!”

“Uh huh.” He tilts his head to finally look right at you, and your knees give out at the teeth biting a section of his lip. “Then come here,” he goads with an eyebrow raise, grinning when you step back instead of forward.

“Wow, would you look at the time? I gotta head out.”

His amusement hisses out in bursts before he finally turns off the water, and he flicks some big droplets from his hair before he reveals himself around the corner.

With a full bottle of what you believe to be very, very cold water.

“Oh, no,” you point. “Yoongi, no!”

He just tilts his head, face a blank sheet but you don’t buy it one bit. “What’s wrong? I’m drinking this.”

“Liar!” Your senses are on full alert as your opponent makes his way to the couch, and you slip around to make sure you’re as far away from him as possible. Consequences to your actions start blaring in your ears and you are not quite ready to accept them. “I didn’t even use half of mine! That’s a full bottle!”

“Don’t hate the play—”

“I hate you regardless,” you cut him short, feet now circling around one side of the sofa, the edge by a propped guitar in the living room corner. “Let’s start there.”

“Is that so?”

“Mmhmm.”

Another switch of places as Yoongi gets in front of his coffee table, and you’re now barred from the front of his place. You can only flee into the kitchen or his room now—at least one of those options has a door.

Giving him a quick once-over, you notice that his hair is slightly darker in shade when drenched, and it’s just like how you saw him on the court days ago.

Was that why you decided to do what you did? You’ve never really been that spontaneous. Dousing someone in water in their flat? Who does that!

Well, you did, but clearly your brain was on something else because it just wanted something to happen. Maybe, deep down, you really needed to see him like this again—this time, all to yourself.

“Better think fast.”

“Wh—”

Freezing liquid splashes onto you before you can fully raise your arms, and a string of yells flies out of your mouth before your body acts on its own. “Bitch!”

If he doesn’t give a crap about his furniture, neither will you! You fling your uncapped bottle towards him in an arc, running into his room after you get another douse of cold as fuck water on your side. “Yoongi!”

All you get in response is his laughs, and the quick thumps of his feet blaze a trail behind you before he bumps into his door. “Ow! Fuck.”

You blow air from your lips at his reaction, bolting into his bathroom to fill your bottle with more liquid ammunition.

“Hey, fuck that!”

A surprise laugh leaps out of your throat after you try to kick his door closed because he bursts through immediately, pouncing on you before you can fling more water his way.

Shit!

Was he always like this? You figured he would just let your little stunt go and be chill about it. You didn’t expect to end up here, legitimately fighting over a crackling water bottle and acting like complete children. It’s setting wings free to invade the far reaches of your stomach, challenging your mindset that real life cannot possibly be better than your dreams.

“You cheat!” you grit out, wrestling him while trying not to cave in at the sight of his soaking hands on yours. “I’m freezing!”

His hisses are so fucking attractive before he taunts low, “You mad?”

“A bit!”

“Good.”

With a quick glance in the mirror, you almost halt all your movements when you see the both of you in your struggle. Yoongi’s face appears the brightest you’ve ever seen it, and it’s almost as if the bags under his creased eyes are completely gone.

You want him to stay that way forever.

But you must’ve been staring for too long because Yoongi notices, pausing to look up at your same reflection.

He’s so fucking handsome.

And you’re now shivering for a different reason.

Because while you stay focused on the mirror, Yoongi faces you fully, eyes covered by a wet curtain of bangs but still effective enough to make you swallow.

You know he can see your shaky breathing, your nipples poking through your shirt, your tongue coming out to lick your lips. He can see it all, and yet you make no move to hide it. You’ve waited far too long to prevent yet another miracle from happening.

So when one of his hands leaves yours to turn off his faucet, you gulp. When it then slides up your neck, you watch everything happen in the mirror and don’t even notice how his icy digits take your breath away. On instinct, you tilt your head back just a bit, and your limbs lock when you witness Yoongi angling his head to capture your ear between his teeth.

Lust coats every inch of your body in an instant, and you have to fight to not close your eyes. You desperately want to see all of this unfold because there’s no way you’ll get another chance.

“Yoongi,” you whisper, tilting your head to give him more canvas to paint with his hot tongue. His fingers tighten slightly around your column, and you moan at the way you can see their veins shift in his reflection. “Fuck.”

He says nothing, using his thumb to brush along your jaw before sliding his palm down to squeeze one of your breasts. A whimper slips out of your mouth as your back arches forward, and you say his name even softer while his lips leave sparks all along your neck.

“This is all you get for now, doll.”

You moan again when you feel his other hand palm your ass, sinking in the depths of his voice,

“You’re lucky I can’t—”

Pause.

Shit, shit, shit!

Both of you snap your wet bodies toward the bathroom entrance at the same time, a burning smell intruding the space.

“Fuck!” you gasp before exiting with him in tandem. “The pan!”

Yoongi’s there before you are, quickly shutting off the stove and turning on the vent fan above it. While you hand him a mitt, you’re hurriedly swiping smoke from the air.

“Open the front,” he instructs before he takes the pan off the heat, and you’re fast to obey, wondering just how long you were both heavily sidetracked.

Because the food was almost done when you decided to be a menace, so who knows how overcooked everything is now.

Damn it.

No alarms end up going off, but you’re still apologetic as you sigh, “Sorry.”

Yoongi shoots you a look. “For what?”

“The food!”

Is he not worried? Because you certainly are. You potentially wasted a bunch of his ingredients.

He shrugs. “No worries. I think we can save it.”

“Okay.”

Using a wooden spatula, Yoongi transfers all the food onto a dish, tilting his head to inspect all the charred parts. “Nah, yeah. We’re good.”

“Whew. Okay,” you sigh again, but this time in relief. You would’ve felt truly cold in your wet garments if he did place any blame on your shoulders.

But would he really ever do that?

“Oh, I meant to tell you.” He waits until you flick your eyes back to his. “Your food was good.”

And your mood is instantly brightened.

If there’s one thing you’re confident about, it’s your cooking abilities. Years of having to fend for yourself molded you into an intuitive chef, so you know that you can at least do that if nothing else. But hearing praise about it come straight from him? It puts you way above the stars.

“Told you,” you hum. “You didn’t have everything I wanted but it still turned out nice.”

“What did I not have?”

“I think you just ran out. Sesame oil.”

“Oh, fuck. I meant to get more.”

“It’s all good.”

The both of you divvy up the food, hair and clothes dripping water onto smooth floors and conversation light. After the plates are made, all the water around the apartment is swept by towels—one of them being used to slap your ass, which you yelp at before getting revenge for immediately.

After the two of you sit at the table, positions switched this time with you in the middle chair staring at the window, the environment settles into one of comfort. Only the sounds of your continued playlist and the vent fan mingle around your bodies.

It’s almost perfect. Legitimately almost perfect.

If only the first bite you took didn’t taste awful as hell.

Apparently it isn’t just you—Yoongi’s face contorts when you shoot him a look, both of you slowly chewing and realizing that something went completely wrong.

Through a mouth full of food, you start to ask, “…Wha thu fu—”

Yoongi bursts into a garbled laugh at the same time you do, both of you getting rid of the bites in your own ways and chucking them straight into a bin.

“Oh, god.”

“What the fuck did you do.”

“Hey!”

After boring holes straight into what’s lying on your plate, you determine that the burned bits, while they contribute to the alarming flavor, aren’t the only reason for the taste. Something happened with the actual seasoning. That had to be it.

A light goes off in your head.

“Oh,” you suddenly peep, feeling Yoongi’s eyes on you from behind. “I know.”

“What?”

“This is your fault.”

“How?”

You scoff as you turn, aiming a finger at the ground next to the oven. “When you bumped into me!”

Yoongi’s eyes avert while his mouth pushes up, and he feigns innocence, “I don’t think that happened.”

“It— Whatever.” You stare at the stove, slightly put out by your failed meal.

“Hmm.” His arm brushes yours as he walks by, taking his seat again and leaning against the back of his chair. Taking note of his perfectly fine vegetables, he taunts with an ask, “So do I win this time?”

“No.”

“Figured.”

You continue to lament the food for a moment. Looking around the kitchen, you’re wondering how to fix it while your stomach simmers with rumbles. Damn.

It isn’t until your gaze sweeps across the same bowl of fruit that Yoongi placed in front of you a year ago that you get an alternative.

Fully aware of the irony, you grab it and bring it to the table, suddenly shy when you delicately place its round shape down with a thud.

Yoongi just looks at you with a loaded stare before huffing amusement from his nose, and you bite your lip to keep from smiling. “Whatever,” you brush him off. “I’m peeling these how I want.”

Another low laugh escapes him as he shields his mouth with a hand, and the two of you finally share some semblance of a meal and call it a truce over tangerines.

Things settle into a nice blanket of peace. There aren’t many words spoken, but it’s not awkward. Not strained. It’s as if the little fight you had earlier dispelled whatever lingering tension existed.

You hum along to the current song until it transitions into the next, a classic that washes you in nostalgia.

Even Yoongi flicks his eyes to the speaker resting on his counter. “Shit, I haven’t heard this in...”

“Right?” Your head keeps bobbing. “I keep forgetting about it until it randomly comes on.”

He has a look on his face that you can’t quite pin down, but it’s nothing negative. If anything, you’re wondering what he’s thinking about. Is he thinking about the past? Maybe a memory this song lodged into his brain?

Because it simply reminds you of back then. Back when you didn’t have tons of responsibilities and the only problems you had were your brother’s insistence and grades.

Speaking of him, you remember the question you’ve been wanting to ask Yoongi since he mentioned something about his hair.

“He said it’s been awhile since you went orange,” you whisper, looking at his drying strands. “Why now of all times?”

“Mm.” He appears distant then, expression borderline wistful as he stares across the room. “Just felt like it.”

“I really like it.”

Turning back to you, he smiles before pushing his plate away. His arms cross as he leans back, and you once again drown in his voice as he responds, “Thanks. I almost went with another color.”

You remember the other boxes. And frankly, you would’ve been destroyed either way. “The blonde?”

“Yeah. It was this or lighter.”

“Oh, my god. I remember the time you went with like, mint.”

Huffs of amusement tumble onto his tabletop. “Shit, you remember that?” Yoongi asks through a grin. “Damn. I didn’t think about that. Should I?”

“No!” You cough before staring down at your food, your turn to avoid eye contact as he turns.

Pent-up laughter comes through in his question. “Why?”

Picking your head back up, you just shoot him a quick pout before looking away, remembering the fluttering you felt in your stomach every time you came across him back then. “Because I’d avoid the hell out of you.”

Yoongi can’t keep in his laughter a second time, letting it out before yawning, “Definitely considering it now.”

Scraps of peeled orange skin litter the table, and it isn’t until Yoongi’s done with his third fruit that he starts dozing off.

Noticing his leaned frame, you pipe up, “Yoongi?”

He blinks before rubbing his eye. “Mm?”

“You gonna nap now?”

“Yeah.”

As much as you want to join him, you need to figure something out about your still very wet clothes. And do some more job hunting since, from the looks of things, he was a lot more productive than you were. While you may have gotten a head-start on the cooking battle, he’s miles ahead with general productivity.

“Okay. I’ll do some more work.”

“You sure? Didn’t you say you’d nap?”

“Ah…” You did. “Mmhmm.”

Yoongi looks at you as if he already knows the answer to his next question.

“You’re gonna take the couch again, huh?”

Sheepish, you purse your lips before looking away. Damn, he really can just read you like a book if he wanted to. Maybe those volumes under his coffee table are just decor, and people are the ones he reads the most.

But you get a head shake and a smirk before he responds, “Suit yourself, doll.”

You don’t get to reply how you want to because—oh, fuck—he’s already tugging his shirt off before heading into his room. Your eyes zero in on the jewelry he has resting on his neck, and you follow his rippling back muscles for a few seconds until you snap out of his trance.

Is he going to sleep like that?

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Why don’t you just take the bed!

Oh, god, he’s coming back out with a towel on his head and handing one to you.

“Thank you,” you whisper, getting a nod in return.

Quickly, you gather yourself while vacating your chair, picking up your peels while he does the same and trashing them in the kitchen. You’re the most aware of the heat radiating off his bare skin, but you have to hold it together. For everything’s sake, hold it together.

“I’ll be in there,” Yoongi says while moving past you. “Shouldn’t be more than an hour or so.”

“Take all the time you need,” you offer, eyes betraying you by giving him an obvious once-over. Your fingers grip your towel a bit tighter as you proclaim, “I’ll just be, umm. Out here.”

He shoots you one more dashing smirk before turning around to head into his room, leaving the door open and your mind in a frenzy.

Maybe you will.

No.

…Maybe?

You sigh as you shut your laptop with a click, leaving only the ambient sounds of the apartment into your ears.

After Yoongi retired to nap, you were quick to shut off his speaker, forcing yourself back onto his sofa with determination to apply for one more listing.

But, as time goes on, you can’t help but turn around to peek into his room. Wondering what he looks like when he sleeps. Wondering what he’s wearing, or not wearing right now.

Maybe you will go in there.

It’s not like he said you couldn’t. If anything, the open door serves as an open invitation.

Still cold from your slightly damp clothes, you set your device down before slowly venturing through his place to get to his door. A door that you’ve already crossed way more times than you could have imagined.

Looking around, you spot Yoongi on his usual side of his bed, comforter covering him just enough to show only the top of his bright, mussed hair.

While you do want to take a nap, too, you don’t want to get in his sheets with your current clothes. They’re still way too wet, and the garments you have in your bag are dirty.

Maybe…

As you turn, you spot a shirt hanging on the back of his desk chair a couple paces away. How you didn’t see it when you went in here to get his speaker earlier, you don’t know.

It’s big enough. Right?

Yoongi won’t mind. Possibly.

Thinking that you’ll just do something in return for yet another borrowed item, you quietly swipe the dark shirt before slipping into his bathroom to change.

After engulfing yourself in his top, you realize it’s one of the comfiest you’ve ever worn. Screw borrowing this, you might just pay him for it.

But. The pants are another issue; Yoongi didn’t have any lying around that you could covertly use.

Well.

Okay. Plan. Plan to wake up before he does. That way you can get up and put on hopefully dried bottoms before he even notices you aren’t wearing any.

Why do you feel excitement instead of dread?

No!

Just nap, get up, and change right back into your clothes.

Maneuvering into Yoongi’s bedroom, you breathe a small sigh of relief when you notice that he’s still fast asleep.

And annoyingly, he still looks so damn handsome.

You circle around the bed, arriving at the other side and trying not to overthink what to do.

Whatever. You’re just napping. That’s it.

Sliding under his covers as lightly as you can, you lower yourself impossibly slow, settling right against the edge and commanding yourself to remember the plan you came up with in the bathroom. What was it again? It was simple, right?

But before you could go over it again, your eyes already droop, and your vision goes dark as sheets and softness and rest lull you right to sleep.

When you awake, it’s deep into the late afternoon, sunset spilling into the cracks of Yoongi’s bedroom blinds and coating the walls in a color you’ve thought a lot about lately.

Warmth and cologne smother your form as you nestle your head further into your pillow. All is good. You feel rested.

Blinking slow, you stretch your body and freeze.

Because the warmth you feel is not just due to blankets. But an arm slung around your waist.

Oh, fuck. The plan. Oh, shit shit shit, you completely forgot that you were supposed to wake up before Yoongi—

“You got some nerve.”

Your breath hitches, nonexistent as you stutter, feeling the lightest of brushes on your shoulder. Shit, those are his lips, incredibly soft even through the thick material of his shirt on your skin. “I don’t...I don’t know what you mean,” you respond, eyes staring directly at his window.

“Acting all innocent.”

Fuck, his post-sleep voice is so deep. You’ve heard it once before when he called you the night after you drove him home. But that was on the phone.

Now? Hearing its rough texture but soft tone right in your ear? You’re not quite sure if you’re in his room or in a fantasy at this point.

The hand on your waist starts to wander, sliding down your belly and hovering over a place that’s getting wetter by the second. “When you know exactly what you’re doing.”

“Yoongi…”

You’re fully alert now, melting under his touch and sounds alone. The soft breaths on your shoulder dip onto your neck like fog in a valley, and his weight feels like a mountain, nothing but a pleasurable burden.

It’s been awhile since that summer day. The day that started on your fleeting demands and insistence alone. It should feel like so much time has passed but, being here now, all of those nights feel like nothing. You’ve traveled to another dimension entirely, where time is irrelevant and only his place exists.

Yoongi’s hand finally presses onto your mound over his shirt, and you instinctively move your hips forward to push into him. Fuck!

His quiet laugh is filled with amusement and something else, something dark and feral and toe-curling. You don’t know how you’re still conscious, still lucid, still not saying anything.

Finally, you start to list your reasons for why you’re here, wondering if they’re actually excuses instead. “This was more comfortable.”

He definitely sees them as the latter. “Uh huh.”

“And my clothes were wet.”

“Mm.”

Keep going. Don’t mind the fingers ghosting over your thinly covered folds. Don’t. “I was gonna take the couch again…”

“But you didn’t.”

“Sorry... I really wasn’t trying anything,” you breathe out, honest.

Yoongi’s low laugh is deep. Impossibly deep. And it drags you down into an abyss that you can’t find a way out of. “Who said you need to apologize?” You feel his hand move from your center to your hip, gripping the flesh there in a warning squeeze. “I don’t think you realize what you’re asking for.”

“And what is that?”

Your ass is tugged back immediately, flush with his pelvis and something that has haunted your dreams. Moaning on contact, you think there’s a dark promise in his actions. A promise he better keep.

“You said,” you gasp, “You said—”

“Fuck what I said.”

“I…” You gulp down your nerves, both your stomach and your cunt fluttering with anticipation. “Wanted this so bad.”

A deep hum rumbles behind your back, and you feel every single delicious vibration. It’s astounding how those sounds alone are enough to affect you between your thighs. “Wanted what.”

“You know what,” you sigh through a bitten lip.

“I do.” Yoongi kisses your shoulder, igniting your nerves and making you exhale. “I just like hearing you say it.”

“Oh…” A sharp moan leaves your lips as Yoongi shifts his hand, and the first contact he has with your breast makes you flinch. The laughs you get in response only serve to turn you on further, and you don’t even realize why they’re happening until you hear dark amber seeping into your ear,

“Innocent my ass.”

“Shut up,” you deny in response. “I just don’t sleep in bras.”

“Mm.” He squeezes tighter. “If I remember right, you said you prefer shirts.”

“Hmmm, almost.” You don’t know what causes you to say what you’re about to. Is it the lingering contentedness? The way you’re already this turned on? Frustration from not being able to just say what you want to taking over? Whatever it is, screw it, you’re gonna say it.

“I’d prefer your shirts instead.”

The payoff is immediate. Yoongi groans before swooping into your neck, kisses deep and hot on your column. Sighing, you give him as much access as you can, arching your back and pushing your ass into his front.

This is a dream. Only a dream. The hand squeezing your breasts isn’t real, the tongue lolling over your ear is just your imagination, the growing hardness poking your back is just something you conjured in the deepest parts of your mind.

Experienced fingers move down to your mound again, pulling light moans from your throat and forcing your eyes shut. Words are so, so hard to come by now. Harder than ever before. But you try to respond in any way possible. “I… Umm—”

“You don’t get to be shy this time,” he instantly growls in your ear, his hand leaving your cunt to pat your cheek. “And don’t try me.”

Did he just…?

When you’re too shocked to respond, he pats your cheek a bit harder, and the burn has your cunt pooling with pleasure and your mind going blank. “Got it?”

“Mm—”

Another pat before your chin is lightly snatched in his fingers. “Say it.”

“I won’t,” you gasp, loving the slight sting and wondering how he knows you would. “I won’t be shy.”

“That’s a good girl.” Yoongi then slides his hand down to choke you while shoving his hips forward, making you moan impossibly high and catapulting your mind into space. “Caught me the fuck off guard last night, but. Not today.”

“Huh?”

You still don’t know what he means by that. Didn’t you both get what you wanted last night? Yes, it was short-lived and a passing storm, but it was still a tiny piece of heaven. You wouldn’t trade what happened last night for anything.

Until his next words bury themselves in your ear to be remembered for a long, long time,

“I can finally take my time with you.”

“Fuck.” Oh, shit. Shit shit shit, this is gonna be how you go. You’re already sure of it. The only things you can say are expletives, nothing other than his name stored in your head. “Yoongi.”

It doesn’t take him long to launch into action, hoisting your leg over his hip and allowing him access to everything. Instead of sliding your flimsy panties off, Yoongi repeats what drove you wild last night. A single finger slips underneath the back string before he peels them to the side, hot digits caressing your ass before giving a cheek a plush spank.

“Missed this fucking ass.”

After you can only moan in response, he slides his fingers up into your cunt from behind, folds already drenched in lust from his relentless aura alone. Your moans quickly evolve into whines as Yoongi finds a perfect spot way too quickly.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he growls behind you, “What the fuck?”

You’re not even fully aware that your lower body is thrusting on his fingers, your voice coming out in a wisp, “Just for you.”

“Fuck, doll,” he rasps out in your ear. “Come here.”

Pulling out his soaking fingers, he uses his other hand to grip your shoulder and force you to lie flat on your back.

Fuck, your muscles are locked and your bones are thrumming. Your cunt is pulsing impossibly fast, longing to be filled by those digits again but also something a lot thicker and longer.

Unbeknownst to you, Yoongi grips the covers. When he swipes them off of your form in one smooth motion, air whooses in to fill the space.

“Wait! I’m cold!”

“I’m sorry,” he says without giving a shit. Maneuvering on his knees, his stomach and chest flex with his movements, and your eyes widen at his bulge angrily poking his sweats.

Fuck. You need it. You need whatever he’s giving you and you know that him taking his time only spells a slow defeat.

But in spite of his earlier reaction, Yoongi still pulls the covers back over your stomach, and you feel your heart speed up its beating at the gesture.

Honestly, you may not even need the covering anymore. His shirt is still fully on your upper body and, with a quick thought, you’re wondering why he hadn’t torn it off you yet.

Your chills are promptly forgotten as he arrives in front of your folded legs. “Open up.”

Why are you still embarrassed? Why do you still feel so self-conscious at the prospect of him seeing you down there again? “Yoongi—”

“Relax.” He slides a reassuring hand over your knee. “You been eaten out since the last time?”

Freezing, you don’t know why the words can’t escape your mouth. It’s like they’re just as anxious as you are. But you answer him. Truthfully.

“Yeah.”

There’s a brief moment of silence before anything is said. But his response holds nothing negative as he softly slips your panties off,

“Good. You deserve it.”

Something warm overcomes you as you feel your legs relax, and as they’re pried open, you still close your eyes in lingering embarrassment. You don’t know if you’ll ever get used to this feeling, especially with him.

“It was pretty lame, though.”

You feel a shift below you as Yoongi lifts his head to watch your pout, and the air that leaves his nose precedes a wide grin of pity. “Damn. That sucks.”

You laugh. “What if I lied? What if I said they were better than you?”

Ah. Probably not the best thing to say.

He prods a cheek with his tongue while aiming a taunt across your body. “I fucking dare you.”

Fucking hell, you never wanted to follow through with something more in your life. Maybe it was the absolute correct thing to say.

Mustering up courage, you fight a smile. “It wa—”

Fuck! A lone finger slides along your folds, making you arch upward on contact.

“What was that?”

You want to strangle him with your thighs. “I said you’re a jerk!”

Yoongi outright laughs before he responds, voice impossibly deep, “You’re not wrong.”

“I hate you.”

“Good.”

You start to bubble with laughter until you feel Yoongi adjust himself and, when you peer down your nose, the sight that greets you almost makes you faint.

Yoongi’s fully on his stomach, only the orange of his hair and the glint of his chains visible as he lazily positions his face between your thighs. Both his hands slide along your skin before securing them with tiny divots, and his brow quirks once before lust droops both of his eyelids.

Tension weighs down all the air above your chest, and you still as he flickers his gaze up before giving a single kiss to your thigh.

God, he’s so attractive. You really cannot fathom how you’re the one here right now. With him. Already, you feel another wave of want flood through you, arching your head back with closed eyes. “Please…”

“If I’m doing this,” he suddenly says, voice gravelly and lax, “None of that quiet shit.”

“What?”

A quick flick of his tongue ignites your entire leg on fire, making you tense on impact. “You heard me.”

“But—”

“If I don’t hear you, I’ll stop.”

“Fuck…” You’ve always been a bit on the muted, quieter side in bed. Not by choice. It’s just… before Yoongi, there hasn’t been a time you truly enjoyed things enough to be vocal. Frankly, you thought people lied if they were loud.

How are you supposed to change it up so—

“Don’t cover that fucking mouth,” is the last thing he says before diving in and making you wanna do exactly that. Holy fuck, you remembered this part so much tamer than it actually is.

His licks are slow and languid, but they are relentless. Every tiny swipe of his tongue causes shocks to run through you in jolts, twisting your body side to side in a lover’s dance. Yoongi’s lapping you up and swirling around your clit like he has all the time in the world.

Goddamn, he knows exactly what he’s doing. Not only can he read you, but it’s like he’s studied you before even putting his hands on your flesh. He knows exactly what makes you lose control in the best and worst ways and doesn’t shy away from showing that knowledge off. At all.

Are you loud enough? You’re certainly screaming in your head.

Apparently not. Because he stops.

Regret floods you in an instant. “Yoongi, please!”

“Louder.”

Even though you know the stupidly simple instruction, you can’t find it in yourself to oblige.

But his fingers slide down your folds and up again, massaging your clit with the pad of his thumb. Shit! Maybe that will be enough to convince you. “What did I say?”

“Louder,” you whisper.

“Huh?”

“Louder!“ you moan after he pats your cunt for encouragement. Fuck, okay. That gets you somewhere. “You said louder.”

“And I mean it. So do it.”

“Okay,” you whisper, finding loose sheets on either side of you to grip. Your next one comes out at a higher volume when you realize how softly you agreed the first time, “Okay.”

“That’s my girl.”

Yoongi swoops his tongue down again, pressing into your folds while he continues to devour you like his last, parting meal. The sounds coming from his rougher licks push your head back into his pillow and, finally, a guttural moan shoves its way past your bitten lip.

Once you start, you don’t stop.

Because there isn’t a single thought you can process. You’re pretty sure you’re saying things, or at least attempting to. But all that’s happening in your brain is a burst of pleasure, clouding your eyes and clawing at your soul. When you grip the sheets tighter, you let yourself go and moan out nearly every curse you know.

The low growl you get in response bends your toes, and Yoongi mercifully lets you breathe when he pauses. “Just like that, babe. Lemme hear you.” When your legs are pried open even more, Yoongi takes a moment to admire his view.

If you weren’t shy before, you definitely are now, skin burning under the intensity of his blown-out eyes. Your face scrunches in embarrassment, but he isn’t paying attention.

“Taste so fucking good.”

Once more, Yoongi laps at your cunt, every flick of his hot tongue destroying you and causing your vision to blank. Words and phrases gush from your mouth, but they’re all unintelligible. You can’t help but lock your legs, wanting to close them to lessen the overwhelming pleasure.

A soft laugh puffs beneath you. “Relax, baby girl.”

“Sorry.”

“S’ok.” Yoongi assures you with a tap to your locked up leg. “Breathe.”

You do tame your muscles for a bit, but Yoongi’s tongue still feels too good, darting into your folds at random to give you delicious shocks. Once, twice, a third time that has your entire pelvis arching off the bed.

Fuck!

Don’t be shy; relax your body. How are you failing simple orders? Does he know how hard these things are for you? Does he know even the easiest of tasks become near impossible under his control? Everything feels just out of reach.

Even coming.

Because Yoongi’s doing just enough to bring you to the edge but hold you there. His movements offer little twinges of pleasure, but nothing more.

And he knows it’s driving you up a wall. He’s playing you like a pro and you’re suffering, writhing on the bed and creasing his sheets in your fists.

Between your fumbling and unintelligible phrases, you do end up saying something coherent. And it catches the attention of the fiend between your thighs.

He stops, lifting his mussed head and staring down at your form. “What was that?”

“Please let me come.”

“No.”

Motherfucker! “Please!”

“Then say my name.”

Have you not been? It’s the only goddamn thing on your mind. “Yoongi! Fuck!”

Frustrated and running severely hot, you rip the covers off of you, needing more space to breathe and let out your pent-up lust.

“Finally.”

Before you know what he means, you feel Yoongi shift and grapple your legs, tugging you further down the bed.

A whine leaps out of your throat at the swift yank, and you’re so thrown into bliss that you don’t even realize what awaits you next.

Turns out, he pulled you far down enough to position you at the very edge of his mattress, and when you look up to see why, your brain empties entirely.

Oh, fuck.

Yoongi’s kneeling.

And his toned arms are fully wrapped around your thighs so you can’t mo—

Holy fuck!

His name tears from your mouth as you succumb to rough drags of his tongue. The grip he has on your legs is harder than ever, pinning you in place so that the only thing you can do is cry out. Below you, Yoongi worships you with the most unholy sounds you’ve ever witnessed.

Every time you attempt to squeeze your legs together, he pries them apart and holds them with determined fingers, continuing to slurp you out until you are nothing but a writhing mess. You suffer at the sight of his hands on your thighs, veins angry and protruding when he clenches them into your skin.

Fuck! You wanna come. You want release. All you feel is intensity building in your center and it’s going to consume you whole if it stays untamed.

Tell him. Tell him you need it need it need it.

But you can’t. Only his name claims the air above your mouth, over and over and over again.

“Yoongi! Yoongi, please!”

Finally. Finally, he leaves you with a quick suck to your clit before raising a hand to slap your cunt, jolting your body upward.

“Come, doll. Come so I can fuck your brains out.”

Holy fucking shit.

It’s as if those words were the key to unlock your deepest desires, and you gush around his tongue, maybe even more than you did all those months ago against that door.

There’s a gravelly hum simmering between your legs, but your head is already lulling to the side as your body fully takes over, leaving you unable to process anything else. Every muscle and bone locks and thrums as waves surge through you, spilling out of your center and onto Yoongi’s drenched jaw.

Honestly, you don’t know how long your high lasts. All you know is that you’re already sagging into his sheets, sweat coating your skin in a light sheen.

The one thing that brings you clarity is a wet kiss to your quivering thigh, then another further down, and finally one more to the side of your knee.

Exhausted, you can barely lift your head to stare down at the person of all your affections. But you make a flimsy attempt, catching a quick glimpse of his expression as he delicately holds your other leg in his palm.

Still so damn attractive. He’s probably never had to worry about appearances a day in his life.

Staring right at your lidded eyes, Yoongi slides his soaking mouth along your skin as he slowly sets your limb down with care, straightening his body to lean over you and plant the sloppiest kiss on your lips.

You expect the taste this time, sighing into his touch and even darting out your tongue to welcome more. The muffled moan you get encourages you to keep going, and you sling tired arms around his neck to bring his chest flush against yours, thin gold inching down the slope of your sweaty neck.

Already, you want more. More more more and something that only Yoongi can give you.

When he pulls away, he tugs your bottom lip with his teeth, groaning low. “So perfect.”

Lies. “I’m not.”

“You are.”

Whether he’s lying or not, you don’t want Yoongi to say these things. Not here. Not when you’re at your most vulnerable and most prone to catching feelings you can’t feel. Ever.

Grasping for a change of attention, you fist small sections of his shirt. “Take these off,” you pout, mirroring last time. And you try your best to ignore the shit grin he flashes you when you continue, “All of it this time.”

Mouth still covered in your essence and saliva, Yoongi obliges, “Yes, ma’am.”

Kneeling over you, he yanks his shirt over his head and flings it away before moving to the side to remove his sweats. Empowered, you grab at his dick before his bottoms fully come off, and he chuckles sinfully at you while throwing his pants to the floor.

“Someone’s bold today.”

“And?”

“Fucking love it. Move up.”

You try your best to, frowning when you get a menacing grin. Ass.

But your sore muscles make it to the pillows again, and Yoongi leans down to capture your lips in a heated kiss. Your eyes squeeze shut while a sigh slides from your mouth into his.

Caught up in pleasure, you want to return the favor. He just gave you a mind-numbing orgasm just from his tongue alone. Again. It’s the least you can do.

Besides. You’ve been thinking about having his dick in your mouth way too many nights to admit out loud.

“Yoongi,” you whine. “Lemme suck you off.”

There’s a low hum before he moves his hot lips to your neck, coaxing shivers there as he plants tender touches along your column. “As much as I want that dirty mouth of yours,” he whispers against your ear, “This isn’t about me.”

“What?”

Wait. Is he serious? You both have all the time in the world but he’s still determined for this to just be for you?

“Told you. I’d make it up to you.”

Fuck. Don’t think about it. Don’t overthink it.

“If you say so…” You whisper back, arching upward when you feel a hand ghost over your chest.

“I do.” Yoongi then shifts his hand down to the hem of his top still covering your body. “Now gimme my shirt back.”

You obey with a laugh, knowing he’s teasing and starting to think he fully intended to keep it on you until now.

Raising your arms, you let him take it off, and he slides it up like you’re a delicate package. When you’re fully uncovered, he admires your contents like he’s never seen them before.

You don’t know how to react.

Your eyes flicker between the dark orbs hiding behind orange locks. What’s he really thinking? Why do you feel like you can’t breathe?

His staring goes so long that you move to cover yourself, to which he latches both of your wrists and pins them above you in response.

A whoosh of breath leaves you as he insists, “None of that.”

“I—”

“I’m serious.”

You gulp, feeling goosebumps take over your body. “…Okay.”

Silent, Yoongi stares at your timid expression before lowering his eyes back to your chest, and you can feel your nipples hardening just under his gaze alone. With your arms locked in his hands above you, you think you should feel trapped. Same with your legs held captive in his arms. But, in both instances, you feel free. How that’s the case, you will still wonder about, days and days from now.

You hear a grunt before Yoongi leans down to take a nipple in his mouth, and the way his tongue swipes it has you thrashing in an instant.

“Yoongi—”

Fuck. Why did he pin your arms! You wanna grab him, run your hands along his smooth skin, rake your nails down his bare chest.

But he doesn’t let you. Every time you try to escape his grasp, Yoongi simply squeezes and holds your arms back down again. Damn him!

Another swipe of his tongue, a lick, a suck—everything he’s doing, he’s doing with purpose. And shocks pulse throughout your body with each touch.

Your mewls are constant, differing in pitch and length but rising high when he drags his tongue from one breast to the next. As soon as he latches on to your other nipple, you feel like your back snaps in two when you arch so fast.

His groans whoosh around your skin when he keeps pleasuring you, and you feel yourself getting wetter and wetter with each flick of his tongue. You know you’re seeping onto his sheets by now, but you don’t care in the slightest.

This can’t be happening. Just his mouth on your chest is almost enough to drive you to the edge again? God. It would be an absolute embarrassment if you came from this alone.

But you just might. Holy fuck, you might.

When Yoongi mercifully releases you, he slowly hovers above your heaving chest, watching it rise and fall and covered in his saliva. “Still so sensitive,” he murmurs, and you huff in return.

“Let me go,” you plead.

“Hmmm.” After looking away and making his necklace sway between your tits, he arrives at an annoying conclusion. “No.”

“Please!” You wrestle in his grip, and feel your skin reacting to the way he watches your chest bounce with your struggle. Fuck, you’re so turned on and he knows it. But the conflict is ripe with the way you want him to keep pinning you down, and the way you want to launch yourself at him. “I wanna feel you.”

Yoongi responds by thrusting himself against your core, and a moan flies out of your throat. Oh, god, he is impossibly hard. How is he controlling himself? How has he not rushed to slam his cock inside you yet?

He really is focused on you and you alone.

“There.”

“No!” You squeeze your wrists tight while moving again, caught up in a whirlwind of pleasure and feelings and emotions you don’t want to name. “I mean, yes, but—”

Yoongi laughs before diving to attack your neck, and your body goes into overdrive as he keeps lapping and kissing there, too. Your legs quake underneath his as moans flow from your throat more freely than ever.

“Please,” you finally sigh with eyes shut and heart open. “I can’t wait anymore, baby. I need you.”

“Never thought you’d ask.”

Abruptly, he slides his chest to the side, pressing his beautiful body over you to retrieve a condom. While he rummages through his drawer, you glide your freed hands up his chest, noticing with intrigue when he hisses as your nails rake over his nipples.

Mm. Noting that for later.

When he kneels to slide a condom on, you watch him with reverence, wanting to tell him everything that you’ve wanted to say but were too shy to before now.

But now, you’re drunk on lust. Lust and something more and you’re throwing all previous caution to the wind. Because this man deserves as much praise as he’s giving you. You’re just regretful that it’s taken this long to realize that.

“You’re so hot,” you whisper, letting go.

And Yoongi smirks while the tiniest huff of amusement leaves him.

Wait.

Was that a hint of shyness? That doesn’t seem characteristic of him. “Thanks,” he simply responds as he widens your spent legs to position himself in between.

Oh, no. Hell no. He’s not brushing you off when you mean every word you say. “I mean it.” You watch him with furrowed brows, still nervous but incredibly determined. “You keep saying I’m attractive, but… You’re just not fair.”

Yoongi’s smile beams onto your prone form as he leans down to seal his lips onto yours, and you don’t miss how he’s avoiding responding through words this time.

And somehow, you’re more attracted to him now than you’ve ever been.

“Careful,” he murmurs right against your mouth. “Don’t gas me up too much.”

“I dunno,” you respond with a little smirk of your own, feeling like you have the upper hand and thinking it’s quite enjoyable. “I think you like it.”

“You know what else I like?”

As he slides his cock along your folds, your upper hand is deftly lost. Gone. Fallen to the wayside. But you don’t care. You’re ready. “I like that, too.”

Yoongi’s stare burns through your cheeks as he asks, “And what else do you like, doll.”

Fuck. He wants to talk about this now? Your teeth catch your bottom lip. “I…”

“Hmm?” Grabbing his cock in one hand, he lightly slaps it rapidly against your cunt, causing whimpers to tumble from your open mouth.

God, you love that. And so much more.

You wanna tell him these things, but you’re so embarrassed. Just like before, all you need to do is speak your mind, but the words just. Won’t. Come out.

Screw it.

Digging deep, you seize your shyness by the throat and force yourself to talk. Yoongi is doing the fucking most for you, so you can at least offer him this much.

“Your hands.”

The widened eyes you get are quickly covered by blinks. “...My hands?”

“No, your toes.”

A snort.

“But also… I liked what you called me before.”

Yoongi leans down to softly kiss along your clavicle, and it’s enough to calm your nerves and relax your tongue. “Before?”

“You know… Like different names.”

“Mm.”

“So…” You turn your head to grant him more access to your throat. “Stuff like that.”

“Stuff like that, huh? What, you want…” He shifts up to put his mouth right against your ear, and his rasp drags across your very soul and sets it on fire,

“...You wanna be my cumslut?”

Fuck.

Shivers erupt in your body. Breaths suddenly come out short. Everything in you springs to life but freezes all at once. Oh, fuck. You’re trembling.

“You do, don’t you?” You can feel rather than see the devilish smirk on his face, and it buries itself in his words. “Dirty girl.”

Just like that, the shyness is back with a vengeance, blown out like a choked flame. Your mind is thrown into a manic frenzy and you don’t know what to do with the chaos taking it over.

Yoongi laughs slow at your sudden silence. “Say it then.”

What the fuck! “Yoongi…”

“Uh uh. Say it.”

As he slides his cock along your folds, you wince at the wide head but welcome the burn. How is he still able to control himself? You’re a goddamn mess. “I wanna be…”

“Mmhmm.”

Fuck it. Say it!

“Wanna be your cumslut,” you whisper, burying your head into the junction of his shoulder immediately afterwards. Embarrassment floods your body, only to be ignited when Yoongi’s high staccato laughs rumble your bones.

“Not bad,” he comments, slapping the side of your ass. “We’ll get you there.”

Frustration leaks out of your mouth as you completely miss what he means by that. “I don’t know what it is,” you groan. “I wanna say things but they just.. Don’t wanna come out.”

“You say it like that’s a bad thing.”

“It isn’t?”

Yoongi leans back to finally face you head on. “Nothing you’re doing is bad. You just haven’t done it enough.” He squeezes your hip before shooting you a wink. “Amateur.”

“Fuck you.”

That seems to catch him off guard because his laugh is quick. “Yes, please,” he groans.

“Okay,” you assure, fully relaxed now that a lot of your thoughts have been laid out. Admitting some things you’ve wanted to say for months makes you feel good. More than good. Especially since Yoongi didn’t judge you for a single one. “Do it.”

“Say less.”

When he enters, your inhale is sharp. But you remember to relax this time, allowing yourself to breathe immediately while he slowly buries himself to the hilt.

Both of your moans are enough to fill his entire room.

Damn, you feel full. So, so full. Impossibly so.

With a quick drop of his head, Yoongi hisses an admission to your chest, “Fuck, I’ve missed this pussy.”

And you can only whine in response. You’re already fluttering around him, eyes surely darkened to hell and back. The way he fills you is perfect and you don’t know how you’ve gone this long without feeling him lodged inside of you. For a moment, you feel like this is exactly how things are supposed to be.

You wonder if Yoongi feels any semblance of the same thing.

“So tight,” he grits out, teeth clenched behind his lips as he starts to thrust upward.

“Fuck!” You throw your head back on pure instinct, your hands snapping to his bulging biceps and squeezing. “Feels so good.”

“Shit, baby.” Yoongi picks up the pace immediately, and you’re loving how you can finally see him break.

That’s the Yoongi you want. You want to see him at his worst just as he wants the same for you. It’s this thought alone that has you quick to command, “Faster. Harder. Please, Yoongi, fuck me harder.”

“Fuck.”

Raising his body, he sets himself on the balls of his feet, hauling you onto his thighs. With a whine, you melt at the sight of his naked body, abs rolling with each breath and chest that same shade of fluster and effort. Sweat coats his brow as he looks at himself sliding out of your split legs, and he grabs your hips before proclaiming through a gravelly laugh,

“Gonna fuck you stupid.”

Before slamming himself back inside.

The yell you release is the loudest you’ve been, and Yoongi’s the epitome of satisfied as he launches into a devilish pace. “That’s right, baby girl,” he growls before biting his lip and furrowing his brows. “Scream like a slut for me.”

“Fuck! Yoongi!”

The new position has you mewling as his cock buries inside your folds again and again. Jitters occupy every inch of your body as your limbs go limp and your jaw goes slack. With each penetration, you feel yourself floating higher and higher off the bed. You’re never touching ground again. Forever levitation is your new plane of existence.

“Touch those tits for me,” he demands, voice rough with exertion.

And you slide your fingers in your mouth before doing so, catching his attention immediately and making him groan out your name.

“What the fuck.”

You hum while still licking your salty digits, popping them out of your lips before groping both of your breasts at once. The hiss you get in return sets butterflies free to roam your belly.

Because you wanted to be much nastier the next time you saw him. Giving him that new evidence he didn’t have until now. Yoongi doesn’t know about the times you pleasured yourself while thinking of him, trying your hardest to recall every touch he left on and in your body.

You want him to remember you. No second guessing this part. You’ve had many, many nights to think about it.

After a roll of your chest, you squeeze your tits together, loving how you have every ounce of Yoongi’s attention as he stutters inside of you. When he throws his head back with a grunt, you gnaw on your lip and wonder if you’re going to rub it to hell.

Snapping his gaze back to you, Yoongi suddenly lifts one of your legs over his shoulder, holding you by your ankle while keeping his relentless pace. Your lust is so loud that you almost don’t hear him,

“You been practicing, huh.”

It takes you a few seconds to lie, “No.”

“Liar.”

A laugh. “Caught me.”

“I’ll always catch you,” Yoongi says offhandedly as he keeps pounding into you, leaning forward and hitting a spot that rolls your eyes back for a brief moment. His breath is short and his teeth clamp down on his lower lip as he grits out, “Fuck!”

When your legs start to shake, Yoongi lets them drop, falling down to kiss you like his life depends on it.

Thrumming with want, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him flush against you.

Even though this time is completely different from the first, you’re enjoying it all the same. Possibly even more so after all the events of last night and today. It almost feels…

Fuck!

Yoongi’s next thrust proves incredibly deep, tantalizingly slow, and he grabs at your hip before changing his angle, hitting a spot that has both of you groaning in tandem.

“Yoongi…” You kiss him again because you simply missed him so fucking much—not possibly because of anything else.

And your hunger is matched when he presses his lips down at the same time he launches your body back.

Your cunt pulses around his cock as he continues to go slow, and it’s a sensation you can get used to. The telltale energy inside of you starts its winding, tighter and tighter as he keeps sliding his body along yours.

It’s after he suddenly decides to shove his cock all the way in that you yelp. And when Yoongi doesn’t move an inch, your pulses quicken just as your breath does because what the fuck why does this feel so good? Why do you feel every sense heightened and like you can come any second?

“This feels… Oh, fuck—”

“Holy shit.”

“Oh, shit, I’m cl—” You don’t understand! How can it feel this good when he’s not even doing anything? Fucking hell, your cunt is milking him at an alarming pace and you’re almost at your climax already. You’re gonna come. You're gonna and it’s approaching fast. “I’m so close!”

“I feel you, babe, fuck!”

You can’t take it anymore.

Breaking, you let go.

“I’m coming,” you whine, your body shattering with your orgasm and a multitude of feelings sprinting from your center. It’s almost blinding how good it feels, and you hear Yoongi groaning words above you but you have no fucking clue what they are because you’re so gone. Absolutely lost. Your lips only chant his name. Because your mind doesn't have the occupancy for anything else.

“Holy shit,” Yoongi hisses as you continue to squeeze around him, and with a cloudy mind, you think he’s actually coming, too. But you aren’t quite sure because your body is frozen while your cunt feels molten with waves of heat. Oh, god, are you still clenching? Holy fuck.

Then.

Bit by bit.

You float back to the ground. Settling into damp sheets and feeling like a human again—a human wracked with exhaustion and satiated completely. There’s a burden on your chest, but you welcome it. You welcome it all, because it’s him.

Peeling open eyes you didn’t even know were closed, you only see Yoongi’s head resting on your chest, bright hair tickling the side of your face.

Your voice comes out cracked with continued use as you huff, “Holy shit.”

Yoongi’s puff of amusement rolls down your shoulder. “Yeah.”

“What the hell even was that.”

“I don’t know.”

Unwittingly, you bring a hand up to caress his hair. “I’ve never come that hard.”

“Same.”

The tiny laugh you expel is because you don’t believe him, but you don’t say anything more. Lying here is precious and riddled with too many traps you can fall into. So you absentmindedly run your damp fingers through his strands, breathing settling into a normal pace.

You can’t move because he’s still weighing you down, but you aren’t gonna be the first to say anything. No. You’re going to stay in this tiny moment forever until he kicks you out.

So his next breathy statement throws you completely off-guard,

“Never gonna be convinced.”

The implication behind those words makes you outright laugh, and you can feel Yoongi’s cheeks grow with a hidden smile.

After you change into the clothes that Yoongi lends you, your steps cross back into his bedroom.

Instead of lying down passed out like last time, he’s now leaned against his headboard, typing away on his phone while the TV next to his desk provides the only light in the room.

You’re wondering what he could be doing when he suddenly turns to you. His eyes roam over your body before he asks, “What do you feel like eating?”

“Oh,” you blink, not knowing that you were going to stay even longer. This day just keeps getting stranger and stranger, but in the best way. “Mmm. Surprise me.”

Yoongi grins before turning back to his device, the glow on his face a mix of moving blues and white. “If you hate it, it’s your fault.”

“I mean, I can eat later.”

“Well, I’m gonna order. So eat with me.”

“Or else what?”

Challenges always seem to get his most immediate responses. You smile inwardly as he cocks a brow your way. “You wanna go there?”

“Maybe.”

“Goddamn. At least gimme an hour or two.”

“For what?”

Yoongi slowly aims a smirk at the television instead of you. “Nothing, doll.”

Nerves quelled by whatever the hell you just did, you walk your sore legs to his bed. Deciding to join him against his headboard, you keep a respectable, annoying distance away while you halfway pay attention to whatever show is on.

Yoongi decides on something to get, and he puts his phone down before quietly watching alongside you.

Curious and breaking the silence, you ask, “Have you seen this?”

“No.”

“Neither have I.”

“Heard it was good.”

“I heard it was trash.”

Yoongi blows amusement through his nose, and the atmosphere settles into one of comfort as you both wait for the food.

You ask more about his many hair colors, and he tells you stories that you don’t know about. They mostly involve your brother—because why wouldn’t they?—but some of them don’t.

These are the ones that intrigue you the most. Because they’re pieces of his life that he decides to share with you for your own entertainment. Not simply because your brother was present.

When the food comes, you join Yoongi at his table and rave about how it’s something you haven’t had in forever, digging right in and not caring about the laughs aimed your way. The conversation from before flows right into this room, moving from topic to topic until you bring up something he mentioned earlier.

“So… About that practice.”

Yoongi raises a brow, mouth full but in a smirk nonetheless. After he swallows, he teases, “Look at you. I knew you were lying.”

“It wasn’t practicing if they just happened.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah…” You think back to the times you’re about to mention, shaking your head and wanting to hide instead of spilling. Why did you even bring this up? Why are you going to tell him secrets he doesn’t really have to know? “My friend took me to some bougie club downtown. Joji, I think? I dunno, things just happened.”

Yoongi stares at you for seconds, unblinking, before taking a bite.

Tearing your embarrassed gaze from him and onto your food instead, you continue, “Then another time was some guy I knew from uni but. That didn’t last.”

Leaning back into his chair, Yoongi stuffs both hands into his sweats. “You seem pretty chill about it all now.”

“I am, actually,” you smile, lifting your eyes back to him. “‘Cus of you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Now I know what I want.”

“Good,” Yoongi says, looking into his living room. You wonder what’s on his mind before he turns back to you with a joking expression. “Now let’s work on you asking for it.”

“Fuck you,” you laugh. “That part is gonna take a lot longer.”

“It’s adorable.”

“Well, so are you when you’re tired. So we’re even.”

Silence.

Complete silence blankets the room, and you feel its effect immediately. The look on Yoongi’s face is priceless, and you have to hold your tongue when he asks,

“Huh?”

Your smile grows and grows. “Did I say something?”

And your name slips out of his mouth in warning, but you’re so giddy that he has no clue that you keep teasing. “Mm. Not telling.”

Yoongi pushes his finished bowl away from him, staring at you all the while. “You’re gonna.”

“Nope.”

“Try it.”

“Nu uh.”

“Do—”

“Nope! You won’t get anything outta me!” In a rush, you bolt from your empty plate and back into his room.

But this time, unlike after your stunt in the kitchen, Yoongi’s already right behind you and grabbing your waist, laughing darkly and warning,

“You better fess up or else.”

“Or what, hu—”

Tickling? Cheater!

You jerk forward with a yelp, hating him for getting you so easily. “No! Yoongi!”

“All you gotta do is tell me.”

“No!”

“Real simple, doll.”

“I’ll never tell!”

Used to all the times you’ve wrestled your brother, you deftly twist your arms around in an attempt to catch him off-guard, going for his body behind you.

“Fuck!” Yoongi shoots out before hissing in amusement, jerking when your fingers connect with one of his thighs. You use the opening to wriggle a bit out, but he’s quick to recover and goes for your weak spots again, holding your arms down as you both struggle with puffs of strained effort and laughter.

He’s ticklish. Yoongi is ticklish.

Good to know.

“You’re gonna regret that,” he cautions in your ear.

“I know your weakness now, old man,” you cackle back, “You can’t hurt m—No!”

Mirth bursts from your mouth when he attacks both your sides at the same time. You try to wiggle out of his grip, but the backs of your knees hit against the edge of his bed, causing you to fold and bring him down.

When the two of you hit the mattress with a small puff, there’s an extended period of quiet as you settle your heartbeats. Only the sounds of your breathing could be heard, unless your thoughts are so loud that they reach him. Dear god, you really hope they don’t. Yoongi doesn’t ever need to know what you’re thinking and feeling right now.

Finally, his voice cuts through the air,

“You’re so weird.”

“Thanks,” you chirp. “You’re ticklish.”

“Fuck off.” Yoongi looks toward his ceiling while bending an arm behind his head. “I hate it.”

It’s such a normal, human thing to be, but maybe that’s exactly why his statements make you laugh. Because you’re starting to realize how normal and human he really is. The image you have of him is being torn apart and reconstructed into something real, and what’s real is more magical than your imagination.

Ignoring the pang in your chest, you laugh, “It’s not like you have to deal with that every day.”

“I dunno now with you around.”

…What?

No.

Don’t overthink that.

“Oh, yes,” you respond with a giggle. “Now you really have to avoid me at parties.”

But Yoongi doesn’t respond to you out loud, only a small huff leaving his nose.

…Did you say something wrong?

A slight wave of panic starts to swell in your mind, but it doesn’t gain traction because you hear a soft,

“How much longer?”

Confused, you turn to face him, admiring his side profile and wishing yours looked half as nice. “For what?”

Yoongi pushes up on his side, peering down at your prone form from behind loose orange locks. His words send tingles down your spine,

“How much longer do I get you?”

You wonder why he says it like that. Why does he sound so… different? Apprehensive?

It’s almost like he thinks you don’t want to stay.

Are you giving him that impression?

Because you want to stay, but you also don’t want to overstay. After all, you work tomorrow, and you didn’t bring most of the things you need for bedtime when you left. Because why would you have? You had no idea you would be able to spend this much time with him.

Deciding to address his question and not his tone, you prepare a response. The rational side of you wins, but you aren’t happy about it. “I gotta wake up early tomorrow… And I kinda need to make up for everything I didn’t get to do last night. To get ready.”

“Mm.”

“And I don’t wanna overstay…”

“Hmm.”

He starts sliding a hand over the second of his shirts that drape over your body today, lightly palming a breast before slipping his fingers up your throat.

You sigh under his touch. “So… an hour?”

“That long?”

You hear the sheets move as Yoongi moves his head down, and you feel the slight tickle of his bangs as he places a kiss on your neck. You let out a soft moan with each pass, tilting to the side to give him more of you than you should. And extra.

When he speaks, his voice burns your ear, forcing your eyes shut and your mouth open.

“Then good luck walking outta here.”

It’s two hours later that you’re in Yoongi’s car, headed to an empty house with a mind filled to the brim.

Your entire body is going to be sore come morning, but you don’t care in the slightest. Everything was worth it. You don’t think the events of this weekend will ever leave the treasure chest you decide to lock them inside.

When you pull up to your house, you instinctively scan the area, hating that you have to be so alert. Hating that the two of you have to be so careful.

Back to reality you go.

Yoongi doesn’t say anything when you look around, but when you’re about to open your door, he speaks,

“Listen.”

Turning, you tense, really, really hoping that he’s not going to drop a ball on you after one of the best days of your life. “Hmm?”

“This is just for the week, got it?”

Huh?

The week?

You blink. “What is?”

Yoongi looks down at his lap before prodding a cheek with his tongue. When you wait for him to elaborate, he simply fishes for something in his pocket and lazily holds it out for you.

And you can only stare, and stare, and stare some more.

A key.

A fucking key.

Your brain overflows with more thoughts than you can handle, and for a split second you literally cannot form words. Your hands tighten around your bag and the door handle and your heart most definitely skipped multiple beats. The only thing you can finally say is a shock-laden, disbelieving, “Yoongi, what the fuck?”

He ignores your question entirely, his eyes focused on you instead of the object of your disarray. “I don’t know how the next few days are gonna go, but. Use it whenever.”

What the fuck is happening. Literally what. Wh—. You have no words. “I don’t…”

“It’s just a key, doll. Don’t overthink it.”

“I”—you nod, softly taking the spare from his rough hands and gripping it in your fingers—“Okay.”

“Find something that makes you happy.”

“Huh?”

Yoongi sets a forearm on his steering wheel, and your gaze snaps to the veins running along its smooth road. “A job. Or whatever. It’ll make a difference.”

You nod, head packed with information and wondering where this is coming from all of a sudden. Maybe he’s referring to all the job hunting you were doing today. “You’re right.”

“I’m always right.” Yoongi gives you and his spare a final look. “Just text me if you end up using it.”

Nodding, you blink before responding with a low, “I will. Good night, Yoongi.”

With this unbelievable slew of events that cap off an exhilarating day, you leave his car and walk up the path to your house. It isn’t until you unlock your place and step inside that you turn around to see Yoongi waiting, only leaving when you acknowledge him from your entryway.

After he drives off into the night, you can only stand in place, quietly shutting your door and slipping your bag from your shoulder.

Staring at the key he gave you.

…Yeah.

What’s that you said about fireworks again?

Right.

You might be in trouble.

tbc. (:

A/N: AHHH OK SO. HI EVERYONE! i wanted this drop to be a surprise mwahahah. whether you’re a long time regular or super new to the 3tan fam, welcome welcome :D hopefully i at least met your expectations with this one and that it was a fun installment! i told yall that i love you T^T A/N 2: i am literally so excited to hear everyone’s thoughts i’ve been itching to post this for days now LOL not to mention i literally wrote 5,000 words last night so that i could get this out for yall... *sobs* and yoongi... i can’t believe him still lol. i was gonna drop the studio spoilers after his vlive bc they were fitting but sdlkjf i held back bc i wanted all of that to be a surprise. A/N 3: anyways! thank you so much for all of the support. i think about yall every single day and hope i keep doing this series justice. thank you endlessly for reading and may a water fight with yoongi be in your future :D ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ ⇥ masterlist ++ up next….. a possible surprise gift :’)))

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itskatastrophe-x · 3 years

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Finally Home (c!Sapnap x Reader)

I let my twitter followers decide who I wrote a oneshot for, and they wanted c!Sapnap, so here it is :) Written in the span of like... Idk 2 hours?? It’s a soulmate AU where you can feel everything your soulmate feels when you get in a certain distance of them and it gets stronger the closer you get to them. I hope yall like it!!

Word count : 2,701

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There it was again. That burning sensation on the palms of your hands. You didn’t understand where it came from or why it was happening, but it hurt like hell. You wondered if it would ever stop, but you doubted it would. You knew the stories all too well but figured it would never happen to you, and slowly your fears confirmed it as all of your friends got theirs and eventually found their person. A soulmate. The way they talked about how they could feel what their soulmate felt on a physical level. They would feel light brushes against their arms or bumps when the other person would be somewhere busy. All of your friends had found their other halves years ago, explaining that when it happened there was a jolt like electricity in their bodies. After all of your friends had abandoned you, you had given up hope in ever finding your person. So you travelled. For miles and miles and miles, seeing every country, village, and kingdom your empty heart desired. You had lost everyone you loved and couldn’t even find your soulmate.

Then it happened all too suddenly. If you had to guess, it happened when you got within range of the person, so you kept up your pace and travelled. It was an unpleasant sensation. It felt like fire all over your body. At first it was a small stinging, then the farther you travelled, the closer you got to this person, it grew. You would wake up in the middle of the night screaming because of cuts and wounds your other half would experience. You wished it was something as simple as the things your friends had gone through, but this was a nightmare. You wished you could meet this person once and for all just so you could give them a strong right hook to the jaw, then changed your mind as you remembered that you would also feel it.

You knew by the things you were going through that this person was crazy and potentially dangerous with the amount of wounds this person was accumulating through the weeks of you travelling, so you did your best to be delicate. Whenever you would feel a new pain, you would prepare healing potions and drink them in hopes that the other person would also feel the effects. Either that or, if it didn’t feel like a gash or deep cut, you would trace your fingers over the spot gently to sooth the other person to let them know you would comfort them. What you couldn’t stand, though, was the feeling of fire dancing around your fingers. You eventually learned to tune it out and numb yourself to it, so it wasn’t nearly as bad as it was when it started, but it was still painful and annoying.

Then it stopped as suddenly as it started. For three whole days. Three. Days. After the first couple hours of the first day you started to worry. It was rare that you got a single second of rest from this crazy asshole, but three days? Part of you hoped he wasn’t dead, but the other part was happy you didn’t have to deal with scratches, bruises, and burning. But you missed it so much that you wished the burning in your palms returned. Nothing stopped you from continuing on though, even though you had no idea if you were going the right way anymore or not. You used the pain as a guide for weeks to lead you closer, but when it stopped, you lost your physical compass. Something in your heart told you that you were still heading towards them though, so you kept on, this time faster and without much sleep. You wanted to make sure this person was ok, and fast. You watched all of your friends leave you, you couldn’t have your literal soulmate leave you as well.

When the third day ended and you were about to fall asleep, you felt it. The smallest little touch to your cheek you had ever felt. It was out of the blue and you had never felt such a touch come from the other person, so it woke you up instantly. You laid there for a moment, the stroking on your cheek so soft and faint that you wondered if it was even the person at all. Slowly, you lifted your hand to your other cheek and caressed it. The feeling on your other cheek stopped, but the feeling of a hand still stayed there. That’s when you knew it was them. They knew you would feel it, but probably weren’t expecting you to return the feeling to them. The stroking started again, so you stroked your other cheek for them as well. Then it hit you. Why had you never thought of it before? After weeks of knowing you had a soulmate out there, it just now hit you. You sat up from your bed in the little hotel you were staying at and tapped your leg. The feeling on your cheek stopped then you felt the same tap on your leg again. You smiled and pressed your hand down for a second and felt more pressure a couple seconds later.

Then you started. At first it was a smiley face, then letters one at a time to write to the person. You asked their age first. Then you felt the pressure of the person writing back. “20”. You drew yours back, then they drew a smile to confirm they got it. You asked their name. “Nick” they wrote back. Then you wrote yours. You got as much information as you could from this small communication as possible so you could find him easier. After your small exchange, you got up, got dressed, packed your things and headed towards a location called “Dream SMP”. You had seen it on maps before, but it was so far away that you thought you would never get there. You had already crossed oceans, rivers, and mountains for this man, but now you had a new fire to feel. A fire burning so deep in you that it ignited in your eyes. You used all the money and resources you had to get there. You bought boats and horses for the days leading up to your arrival.

After over a month of travelling, you finally made it to the outside borders of what was known as the DreamSMP. The streets were full and bustling with life. Most people smiled and greeted you as a new member, fully accepting you the second you set foot on the land, others scowled or threw hateful words your way, possibly thinking you wouldn’t hear, or maybe they hoped you would so you would leave. You asked around about this person “Nick” and got an overwhelming response of happy chatter and protests of anger, so you left as politely as you could to search on your own.

You felt like it would take forever to find this other person if all of the streets and businesses would be this crowded and overwhelming, until you came across one man standing at the edge of a river with his eyes closed and a smile on his face. His fluffy brown hair flipped up in the front and slightly waved in the breeze, the colors he wore matching his vibe completely. You approached him cautiously at first, but felt comforted by the aura he gave off. You cleared your throat quietly, so as not to startle him, and he opened his eyes slowly to greet you, the lightest shade of blue you had ever seen. He gave you a soft smile and waved you over, so you complied.

For a second, you wondered if this was him, but you took note of his soft, clear looking skin and the lack of electricity as you neared him. When you got next to him, he pointed across the river to a very ornate village sitting on the hills surrounded by flower forests. “Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?” You stared in awe at the mushroom buildings and statue and smiled at him. “I’ve travelled a long way to get here and passed hundreds of kingdoms, but this tops them all,” you replied. He made a noise of agreement and smiled, content with your answer. “Well, tell me, new face, how did you make your way to Kinoko Kingdom, and why are you here?” There was no malice in his voice as he asked and you could tell he was being friendly so you knew you wasn’t being standoffish. “I came to meet my soulmate,” you answered. His eyes went wide and met yours, a look of shock on his face. “Th-that’s you?!” You looked at him, furrowing your brows. How did he know? As if to read your mind, he continued. “I knew he was expecting someone, but, wow… I mean… He’s gonna want to meet you now. He literally hasn’t shut up for weeks about you.” You stammered for a second as he grabbed your hand and started running, barely giving you any reaction time to keep up with him. He was fast and energetic and you liked it. He seemed friendly and bubbly and his touch was comforting.

He weaved in and out of streets and occasional bystanders watching the two of you with wide eyes and gaping mouths. You took it these people didn’t see many new faces, seeing as they were small in numbers. He didn’t slow down until both of you were panting in front of a giant cherry blossom tree in front of the biggest library you had seen. You could hear a loud voice echoing out of the open hole, acting as a doorway. The man next to you put a hand on your shoulder and you looked over at his grinning face. “I should explain before you get in there… My name is Karl and Sapnap, or Nick, is my fiancé. Now before you get worried, we’re in an open, poly relationship and he’s talked to me about all of this and I am 100% welcoming you into our little family.” He gave you a warm smile that reached his eyes so you knew he was being sincere.

A booming shout broke your thoughts and you felt a pain in your toe that almost made you fall over, then loud laughter erupted. You smiled and shook off your foot as Karl motioned you inside, and that’s all you needed to run inside. The space inside was open with books lining the high walls. There was a staircase to your right, a mushroom in the far back, and a balcony above your head. There you saw him. At first he stood there laughing with the other man in front of him, not realizing you were inside, so you stared. You felt something like fire dancing across your skin lightly as you watched him with wide eyes. He was more beautiful than anyone you had ever seen. He had his jet black hair tied into a messy, low bun at the back of his head, a scar across the length of his face that went across the bridge of his nose. He had a light dusting of freckles across his rosy cheeks and the most piercing eyes. The man in front of him caught onto your stare and nudged the man, pointing down at you from their spot on the balcony. When his eyes met yours, a shiver went up your spine and your skin felt hot, like you were now encased in a cocoon of fire. For a moment you both just stared at each other, not being able to move, until you felt a pair of hands push you gently from behind.

That’s all it took to move you. You took off towards the stairs and took them two at a time as he ran to meet you on the landing. You collided into the biggest hug that knocked the wind out of your lungs and almost sent you flying backwards, but he kept you steady. Your eyes welled up for a moment and you laughed into his chest. He smelled like a campfire, fir trees, and old books. He was so warm and your body fit his so perfectly under his arms. You heard footsteps coming up the stairs and a soft touch to your shoulder, a small hum coming from Karl behind you. “Thank god you’re finally here. Sapnap literally would not shut up. He always talked about how soft you were with him when he knew how hard it must have been for you. Weeks. Weeks.” Sapnap reached an arm out to punch Karl, but he dodged easily since Sapnap still hadn’t let you go. You chuckled and closed his eyes as he put his arm back over your shoulder and squeezed you closer to him.

“I can’t believe you’re real,” he whispered into your hair. He squeezed him and smiled. “You thought I wasn’t?” He sighed and relaxed his shoulders. “I thought you would hate me. I’m so reckless and get hurt all the time. How could anyone want me if they feel what I feel?” You pulled back to look him in the eyes and you gave him the most genuine smile you had ever had on your face. “You’re stupid. Of course I would be here. And I will stay here. I’ll take care of all your bumps, scrapes, and stabs. The pain means nothing so long as I know you’re ok.” His pointed ears turn a bright red and he averts his gaze to the floor, so you bring your hand to his cheek gently. At first he flinches, but soon closes his eyes, sighs, and leans into your hand, his lip slightly quivering from such tenderness.

“I do have one question, though.” He hums, not opening his eyes. “Why do my palms always burn? Do you just, like, constantly sit around a campfire?” He chuckles and slowly lifts his head, eyes opening to look at you. He pulls back from you slightly, keeping one arm around your waist as he watches his hand, then back to your face to watch your eyes on his hand. In an instant, his hand is surrounded by fire, the burning in your hand starting up. He must have liked the look on your face because he lets out a snort and then starts laughing, all while you stand there in awe at the power he held. “Holy shit… And… And that’s real fire? Just like that?” You look back at him and he gives you a shy smile and a nod of his head as the fire goes out. There was a sparkle in your eyes that he was absolutely enchanted by and he hoped he would get to see that for the rest of his life. You let out a small huff of amazement and smile brightly. “You are the most amazing person I have ever met,” you say quietly as you watch his features soften as he’s left speechless.

“Oh get a room,” the guy behind Sapnap says, his voice thick with an accent and sarcasm, the sound of a smile in his words. Sapnap looks at the man and points at him, shooting off a mini fire at him. His shirt catches for a second before the man screams and smacks himself to put it out. You laugh as you watch the exchange and Sapnap looks back at you, thinking of how beautiful your laugh sounds. “Well,” Karl starts. “We have a lot to talk about! Ooooooh this is so exciting! We need to know more about you!!” He grabs both of you and pulls you down the stairs and out to the pond next to the tree out front, the sun finally setting over the hills, casting a gorgeous, fiery glow on your soulmate’s features. You couldn’t wait to see what their life was like. To kiss all of his scars and tell him how amazing he was. To run your fingers through his raven feather-looking hair. Oh how you loved this.

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barzzal · 3 years

Text

between halls and thin walls

summary: friends who fool around almost never work. almost.

↳ pairing: mathew barzal x you

↳ warnings: angst, smut, fluff, platonic anthony beauvillier x reader, swearing, sexual/suggestive themes, and the whole fwb mess

↳ genre: roommates au, best friend’s best friend, friends with benefits, 18+ minors dni*

↳ length: series; part one (3.1k), part two, part three, part four, part five, part six

↳ masterlist: the barn

↳ track: body language by big sean, haunted by beyonce, nobody’s business by rihanna

note: this idea came to me while i was working on another wip so kind of an impulse thing again ig zz this will definitely be a multi-part imagine tho still not sure how many but nonetheless this is part one! i hope yall would like it and do lmk what u think :’))

The first time was an accident. The second was a mistake. And the third, — is there even a word for it?

“I can’t believe I’m having sex with you for the third time.” you pant, catching your breath, rolling your eyes at the man playing off his signature smug grin on top of you.

“Do you want me to stop then?” he teases, pulling half of his dick out slowly in the most antagonizing manner, letting you sit in despair for having made such an insensitive remark.

“We both know you can’t.” you smirk. “You have the hots for me, Barzy.”

You bite his lips when he leaned in for a kiss.

“Always so cocky.” he hums, voice husk and hot in agreement just as he puts himself back inside you— treating himself with what seems to be the best morning sex he’s ever had.

You wrap your arms around his nape and your legs around his waist. You moan in his lips all the while Mat continues to slam his weight against you, going at a pace quite moving for your morning affairs.

But as the two of you drown in the heat of the moment, a knock on the door was more than enough to send shivers down both of your spine. You meet each other’s eyes, panic evident in an instant.

“Shit.” Mathew grunts.

“Y/N! You up?” Anthony knocks at the other side of the door. You were fast to shot Mathew a knowing look, urging him to zip himself and utter no word.

“Y-Yeah!” You caught yourself stifling a moan when Mathew did the exact opposite of what was asked of him and tauntingly moved inside you. You glare at him, uttering a silent “fuck.” when he takes your mouth yet again.

“I’ll hit the shower then let’s have breakfast, ‘s that good?” Anthony asks, his voice loud in an effort to be heard.

You reply carelessly, “Sure, yes! Be there in a minute!”

You hold Mathew’s shoulder, stopping him from whatever madness he was trying to inflict on you before you completely lose your mind. He lets out a small laugh and starts nibbling your ear. His tongue draw wet circles on your skin whilst you make sure that the innocent left-winger is nowhere near your door.

Once you’re sure the two of you were no longer compromised, you release your hold on Mathew. You then let your hand travel back to his nape, the other settling on his strong arm.

“You have five minutes, mister.” you say in command.

Knowing that he wasn’t one to back down on a challenge, Mathew’s lips crashed against yours seconds after you’ve given him an ultimatum. His hand carelessly grips on your waist as the two of you grind on each other, working to meet your own highs before Anthony steps out of his bathroom. You exchange suppressed moans in each other’s lips, whimpering at how good Mathew’s groans sound in your ear.

“Four minutes.” you remind him.

“Would you stop counting? I’m trying to concentrate here.” Mat breathes at once; still with a mission in mind. His candidness makes you laugh.

“My bad.” you cage his cheeks with both of your hands to lock him in another kiss. This time, your hips meeting his pelvis in sync as you finally feel yourself nearing your own edge.

Mathew seems to have understood your body language and started to pick up at a progressive speed, burying himself further inside you in spite of your cunt constricting him whole. The warmth of your walls do unexplainable wonders for him. He knew he wouldn’t last long enough after you came. Once he meets your end with one final stroke, he lets himself go, exploding inside your walls, still with a whole minute to spare.

He playfully bites your shoulder before pulling himself out, discarding the used condom and tossing it out straight into your bin. You watch him gather his stuff and start dressing himself; a sight laid forth exclusively for you.

“I still have sixty seconds, wanna go again?” he kids amidst already putting his boxers and pants on. He runs a hand through his messed up hair once he was settled.

“You just never shut up, don’t you?” you sarcastically ask, throwing your head back with a small laugh.

“Five minutes? On command?” He taunts, shaking his head with nothing but thick arrogance. “‘Course, I’ll never shut up, y/n.”

“Well, Beau’s definitely not gonna if he ever finds out about this, so go and get your ass out of here.” you order, throwing his sweater that miraculously ended up on top of one of your lamp shades from your unexpected shenanigan last night.

He throws it over his head the moment he catches it with ease, “French toasts?” he asks, bobbing his pretty brows up and down.

“Fine. Now, get lost so I could get dressed.”

𖥸

You let the warm water hit your skin running like beads down every inch of your body. With closed eyes, you try to remove the image of you and Mathew running inside your head endlessly. The image of how he knocked on your door in the middle of the night, how you willingly gave in his kisses, how he effortlessly owned your lips without having to say a word, and how just like the other night, you’ve let yourself be lured by a man whose quirks you hated the most— maybe even a little too much for you to find yourself moaning his name first thing in the morning. Regardless of all that, no matter how much you tell yourself that it’s wrong, you just can’t. Because deep down, even if you haven’t realized it yet, it felt right.

Things between you and Mathew have been in between exchanges of decencies and civility when he temporarily moved in with you and Beau. He decided to leave his apartment and find a better one after almost a year of living in that hell bent a few blocks away from you and Anthony’s.

He wasn’t really fond of his former apartment being that his upstairs neighbor was obnoxiously loud and the man that lives from across the hall had badly trained dogs that barked incessantly at the tiniest sound in the middle of the night. Anthony didn’t even see the point of him living in that place. Nevertheless, he gladly took him in when he heard him talking about it with Marts in the dressing room.

You and Anthony have always dreamt of living in the city. You remember talking about it during afternoons spent over each other’s homes, doing each other’s homework or letting Beau force you to be his attending goalie just so he could practice his shots more. That’s why when you watched him go up that stage to receive his Islander sweater the night he got drafted, you knew you had to pull through and exert more effort in order to make that life long dream come true.

Lo and behold, after his rookie year, a letter came in confirming that you’ve passed and got into a prestigious university in the city. Anthony was over the moon when you phoned him the night you got the confirmation. He immediately made plans and assured you that he already had prepared a place for you to stay in his apartment. No, scratch that, your shared apartment.

You were just thankful to have him by your side all the way. He had been with you through all your highs and lows and the mere thought of working on your respective careers, all whilst still having each other’s backs, is probably what kept you going through all these years.

He was the brother you never had. He was there to celebrate with you in your proudest moments, and he was there— in his sweatpants, holding a giant tub of your favourite ice cream even if it meant having to crush his body more in training just so he could be with you as you get through another one of your break ups. He was there. Both wins and losses, and all the ugly and the bad in between. He was there.

When you first got on the Island, Anthony had already taken care of all the stuff you were just worrying about back home. He picked you up at the airport with the same giant smile beaming on his face. There wasn’t anything much to do besides you finally moving in. He even had a whole closet designated for your clothes and a personal space you’d be glad enough to call your own so it would be convenient enough for you. However, when you did move in, it seemed that Anthony had forgotten about a minor yet significant detail that ought to change, perhaps even derail the whole dynamic between you and your best friend.

Or in this case, his best friend.

To look back on all the years you and Anthony have spent together, you were most certainly sure about one thing. He was dumb. Although meeting Mathew years ago shed a different light, for that man, despite sharing most of Tito’s best qualities and appalling idiosyncrasies, was just what borderline stupidity that not even yours and Anthony’s awful quirks combined could justify how much Mathew’s dumbassery got into your nerves. That’s why when that night happened, you’ve sworn to yourself that you will never let Mathew lay a hand on you ever again.

Then again, promises aren’t meant to be kept.

The first time was an accident.

The second was a mistake,— a mistake that you profusely shoved at the back of your head but still vividly remember.

You have been avoiding Mathew for the past two days since the first incident. That, unfortunately, also includes the unusual kindness you spare your naive best friend out of guilt. You haven’t realized Mat was even at home when you came out of the kitchen, holding one of Tito’s guilty pleasures aka New York’s finest cheesecake.

“Oh.” Mat stops mid-sentence, unsure of how he’s suddenly at a loss of words to whatever the hell it was that he was telling Beau.

“Hey.” he casually nods, dismissing the awkward air that eerily sat between the two of you, your chest calming the second you see that Tito didn’t pick up on any of it.

“Hey.” you acknowledged with a tight smile.

“Dessert?” you offer, putting the round diet-ruining piece of mouthful calories at the center of the table. Too much for living in a house with professional athletes, right?

You cut Tito a more generous sliver than what he would normally have. He shot you an unsure look but you insisted. After all, you were already feeling shitty for having nailed his other best friend, who at the time was shooting subtle yet hintful looks your way, trying so hard to avoid how incredibly hot you’ve become before his eyes.

You feel so exposed under his gaze so you figured facing him and acting as if nothing had happened would be the best way to deal with whatever predicament you and Mathew were in. However, as if on cue, Anthony moans– his eyes closed, savouring a spoonful of light and moist cheesecake in his mouth, devoid of the madness unfolding exclusively for him.

“I swear on my life, it gets better when you get to taste it more than once.” he muses.

Mathew, who had his mouth latched on the rim of his drink, almost drowns himself and ends up coughing wildly, his chest burning under all the liquid he’s wrongfully inhaled.

“Barz, what the fuck!” Tito reprimands, putting more attention (mostly concern) to saving the cheesecake than his best friend. “The hell is wrong with you?”

You did nothing but hold the silverware tightly in your fist, forcing whatever normalcy you still have left for a reaction, choosing not to take part in any of Mat’s inexorable recklessness.

“Sorry.” he apologizes half-heartedly, clearly saying the word Tito wanted to hear.

Mat then clears his throat, unknowingly painting quite a sight for you as you watched the knob of his Adam’s apple move in a way that accentuated his chiseled jaw and his all too flushed cheeks, making you swallow hard– remembering what went down the day before yesterday.

In an effort to relieve yourself from the impending embarrassment you begin feeling in between your thighs, you stand, taking Tito’s half-eaten plate not caring about how he was far from being finished, “Do you really want to finish this or should I call your trainer?”

Anthony only rolls his eyes, choosing his battles.

“Geez. Relax, Mom.” he chuckles, earning himself a firm smack in the head from you.

You pay no attention to his exaggerated wail nor the man sitting quietly beside him. The same man who was rather preoccupied in eyeing the flesh shining under the well-lit apartment, allowing himself a perfectly good vantage point of the tight shorts that embraced your all too immaculate ass.

Thank god Mathew had the initiative and presented to do the dishes himself. You were tired from whipping out dinner for the boys considering that they’re the same blokes that once attempted to teach you how to make a mean grilled-cheese sandwich wrapped in aluminum foil under the heat of a flat iron. Which, by the way, is a bad idea.

𖥸

You had just gone out the bathroom, relieved of the tension and stress from a warm bath you’ve thrown yourself. Your hands travel down your thigh, putting your favourite lotion on as you get ready for bed. Your mind, for one thing, was miles away. You were able to do the one thing you have explicitly told yourself not to when Mat moved into your home. Sure you shared the occasional banters and bickering and whatnot — maybe even argue throughout the process, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t find him attractive at all.

You were a decent human being, yes. But you were far from being a saint.

You were already making your way to your bed, a hand loosening your night robe to reveal a matching satin sleep dress that mirrored the New York night sky however an unexpected knock on your door refrained you from doing so. You sigh, thinking what Anthony could have possibly wanted so late into the night. You begrudgingly twist and re-do the silk tie that held your delicates underneath as you make your way to the door.

The cold brass knob enveloped your hands, “What now Beau— oh.”

“Hi.” he says at once, lips almost falling agape at the sight, immediately feeling his mouth dry. A shy smile compensates for it instead.

It’s not like you were so secretive nor subtle about it, but Mathew did pick up on the sudden change that befell the two of you after that night. Sure, he did want you. He still wants you in fact. But he wasn’t a total ass. He wanted to make sure that you were okay and that he’d gladly step aside because that night, despite giving him unsought boners quite recently just by thinking about it, still needed to be addressed so he could clear things out because the last thing he’d want to do was to ruin his friendship with you and Tito. He knew how much you meant to him. He has a sister, for crying out loud. He knew full well not to screw with women.

Not unless he was given permission.

“Hi.” you return his polite smile.

“What– What are you doing here?” you try to act as candid as possible. Although, not helping at all if you had asked Mathew.

His hand instantly finds his nape, “I know I wasn’t the only one at fault here. But I—”

You immediately cut him off, opening the door wider to invite him in.

“Beau might get out for a glass of water.” you say, briefly eyeing the hallway.

Mathew obliged, clearly not wanting to be seen by the oblivious winger either. He makes his way into your bedroom. He runs his long and vice-like fingers on his lips, thinking about how he’d walk you through it.

“Look, I know what happened the other night was a huge mistake.” he starts, gray eyes darting through yours, testing the waters.

When you avoid his gaze and hug yourself to hold your composure before sitting at the end of your bed, he only follows and speaks again, “I just–” he takes a moment to breathe, “I didn’t want to mess anything up. And it felt like I did because if I didn’t, you wouldn’t be avoiding me, right?” he asks, his voice started in a definitive tone. So sure of himself, only to be rendered mute in the end.

You let out a sigh, letting your guard down, tucking some of your hair at the back of your ear. You knew that this would eventually come up. If he hadn’t knocked on your door, sure enough you’d be finding yourself knocking on his for the same matter.

“That night– ” you say, fidgeting with your fingers. “It shouldn’t have happened.”

You look up to find his face inches away from you. Neither of you realized how the dip of your bed has made you close to each other, all stripped down of your personal spaces. You search for his eyes through the dim of your night light, his nose ghosting over your cheeks as Mat tries to pull his shit together.

“It shouldn’t have.” he answers meekly, clearly his words going against what willed his body.

“Bad bad mistake.” you faintly whisper, your lips lingering too close to the fire.

Mathew needs to make sure. He knew he needed it bad. You just have to let him know you did too.

Your eyes meet his but his irises flicker quickly to the soft material safely resting in between his fingers. Satin ties.

You feel him tug onto it lightly, shooting his shot. If you take his hand, he’ll back away and he would no longer push it.

You didn’t.

“So bad.” he mutters, his lips stirring whatever it was that needed to be stirred.

This time, Mat pulls the tie further, loosening its hold around your waist. You don’t budge and he feels his chest tighten even more.

Instead you look down his alabaster fingers, watching the material weave through it as Mat extends it to push your loosened robe apart. You don’t say a word when you meet his eyes again.

And that’s how Mathew knew you wanted the same thing too.

#mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal smut #nhl smut #mat barzal fanfiction #nhl imagine #hockey smut #hockey imagine #letters to barzy #barzzal imagines

817 notes · View notes

emperor-palpaminty · 3 years

Note

"I've been falling in love with you since the first day we met." With western Tech I am begging

Ah! The return of Dr. Victor Trech "Tech" the Third! I have been watching too many Jane Austen movies again because oh no I am in a MOOD ANON, this was delivered with perfect timing! All credit goes to @weirdcharacter for the lovely creation of this AU, please go follow her (and her writing is great, @hellothere-generalangsty )

Rating: F for fluff. Fluffy fluff.

Jekk is “Jack” and Sheeyah is “Shay”! Yall know the drill. Also I'm not saying the reader looks like Sadie Adler (RDR) but her aesthetic is PERFECT for the reader and I just sjdhsksjsks, just the clothes and the hat and the attitude, I adore it warning this is very dramatic, send help, i need help, my expectation for men is unrealistic

Your world turned sideways, then upside down, sideways again, and then right side up. You laughed, tumbling again, coming to a halt at the base of the hill. The two children slid down by you, voices chorusing in laugher. Shay collapsed on your back as Jack skidded by you, giggling, grinning and displaying a stunning lack of front teeth. “You’re the funnest person in town.”

“Aw.” You grinned, reaching over and tugging on Jack’s straw hat. “You kids are pretty fun, too.”

A set of little fingers reached up, tugging the tangles of grass through your hair. “Mama and papa like you, too.”

“And I like them.” You sat up, yanking off your hat and letting your hair fall so Shay could braid it. She rose, taking your tendrils of hair and weaving them together. “I like yall more, though.” You winked at Jack, who giggled as you motioned him to shush. “Don’t tell them, though.”

Shay cackled behind you, tugging on your hair and tying it off. “We won’t!” She chirped.

“Your secret is safe with us!” The boy cawed, running around his sister. “Hey! Shay! I’ll race you back up the hill!” He turned and sprinted up.

“Hey!” Shay fussed at her little apron, hopping up, and then ran up after him. “Not fair! You had a head start!”

A laugh, deep and warm, escaped your chest as you stood. You followed the kids up the hill, walking slower as they neared the top. You stopped and glanced back at the landscape, the sea of gold rolling in waves from upcoming storm winds. You would think the fields of wheat were oceans of riches. Cut was rich in every way, of course- with a family as lovely as his and lands as broad and blessed, but the man was happier with grains than physical riches.

Thunder rolled above your head, shouting through the sky. You glanced up, then looked at the kids, who has just made it into their house. "Hey!" You yelled. "I'm going to run home."

The kids nodded, shouting their goodbyes and waving as they retreated inside to the warmth of their abode.

___

You barely managed to make it into the pergola in the center of town when the bottom really fell out of the storm above. The wood creaked under your feet as you moved, watching the rain, antsy for the clouds to lift.

Drumming your fingers on the old railing of the pergola, you made a couple of laps, taking in the sights of this town in the rain, the storm. You leaned on your elbows and looked over everything, thinking for a moment. Everyone was tucked away safe and sound in their homes, listening to the rain and wind and curling up with loved ones.

Even if you were the only one in your home, you wouldn't mind curling up alone, drinking some tea, listening to the pitter of rain on your windows-

Wait.

You leaned on the wood, squinting at the figure fast approaching you. Despite actively getting drenched by the unsympathetic rain, he was grinning.

"Victor," You whispered, turning and running to the steps of the pergola. You made it halfway down the stairs, the rain and wood scent assaulting you, when his hand grasped your arm and tugged you back under the cover of the humble structure. You tugged your hair out of your face, staring up at him, rubbing the water out of your face. "Victor!" You practically yelled above the rain. "What are you doing out here?"

The Doctor grinned, victoriously holding up an umbrella that had been stationed under his arm. "I had to bring this to you!" He smiled sheepishly, rubbing his neck. "Uh... It hasn't done any good yet."

"Oh, Victor." You laughed and looked him over, shaking your head at the mud splashed on his trousers. "You're soaked!"

"I didn't want you to be alone." He said, watching you. "Waiting this out by yourself would be rough." His eyes, behind the rain-speckled specs, were bright as he looked you over, wet hair and all. "Stars," He said, hoarse. "You're beautiful."

A laugh tugged at your throat as you plunked down on the floor of the modest stand, and you patted the wood next to you. "You're very sweet, doc."

"I'm being serious," Victor plunked down next to you, taking off his specs and rubbing his dampened shirt on the lenses in an attempt to dry them. "I'm trying to be more bold. Honest, even."

You laughed again, shaking your head, the braid Shay made swaying on your shoulders. "Well, you're sweet, either way. And you're kind of pretty yourself."

He chuckled in his city-slicker way, a way that charmed you. "I like your braid." Victor paused, reaching up to examine it. "May I?" Upon receiving your nod of approval, he took the length of hair in his hand. Your whole scalp tingled at the sensation of his hands, gently skimming over the braid. "It's lovely. Shay?"

"Yes," You hummed. "Shay likes playing with hair, you know."

He chuckled, hands falling to your shoulders momentarily before dropping, and Victor scooting besides you, crossing his legs. “She does.” He added, eyes drawing to the rain.

You snuck a sideways glance at him. He really was pretty. Soft lips rounded a set jaw, intelligent dark eyes hiding behind glasses, skin tanned and warm with brown-red hair laying in wet curls on his head. You were never one for art, portraits, but heavens, if you could pick a picture to have engraved in your mind’s eye forever it would be this one, of him, wet and soaked from the rain and eyes soft. Your gaze darted away, and your stomach stirred- butterflies, your mama used to call them.

You felt a hand press softly over yours, fingers spreading hesitantly on your knuckles. You glanced up, blinking, and you smiled quietly. Victor’s own eyes moved up to yours and his cheeks pinkened, and he started to pull his hand back. “I’m sorry, I just-”

Your thumb flicked over his hand, trapping it over yours again. “It’s fine.” You whispered, barely audible against the rain. After a moment of silence, you squeezed his hand. "How did Victor Trech become 'Tech'?"

Victor chuckled, fingers flexing over yours. "Ah. Well, one of the letters I sent- I suppose the 'r' in Trech blended in with cursive, and... Well, I never corrected it."

You broke out in a giggle, looking over at him, feeling your lips almost split in laughter. "Really?"

He nodded, laughter filling the pergola. His eyes danced in the rain as he looked at you, intelligent gaze not diminished by the softness that lingered in his brown eyes- warm and ever present.

You sucked in a breath as he smoothed his hand up to your cheek, pushing a strand of wet hair behind your ear. “If I could just,” He whispered, watching it tuck back neatly. His words never finished- but they held a strong, finalized want in how he said them, prayed them.

His fingers cusped your jaw, and he swallowed harshly, the unsaid plea moving down his throat. “Forgive me.” His hand moved away from you, and he turned his head away, words hoarse. “You seem to make me forget the words that I had in my mind.” Victor grimaced momentarily, at the crack of thunder above them. “And you make me talk in flowery circles.”

“Why do I do that?” You leaned forward, cocking your head. The hair danced from behind your ear to brush a damp line along your cheek, but you ignored it- you were enraptured fully in him, his presence.

“Because you-” Victor’s words caught again, and his cheeks reddened as he glanced down at the old wooden ground of the pergola. “You make me want to say every good and noble thing that you bring to my mind, and you deserve no less than the best praises my lips can sing of you.”

Your thoughts fell flatter than an armful of barley on a windless day. His eyes were so sincere, warm, lips pressed together. “I said I was trying to be honest because I want to be open and honest with you, especially you, if not only you- and should you say no, my heart will still be yours, and I’ll never speak of my honesty with you again.”

A chuckle pressed firmly to your throat, and you watched him sit up more, nodding softly. “Go on,” You encouraged. “Speak to me.”

The words spilled out of his lips, like a dam of emotions, held back by fear. “You make me feel needed here- well, the patients make me needed, but you make me feel wanted. Oh, there is no better feeling than being wanted, my saving grace.” Victor’s hand found its way back to your yours, clasping it, words dancing with the now-steady drumming of the rain. “I need these hands to ground me, hold me, only if you’ll have me.” He pulled your knuckles to his lips, kissing each one so tenderly. Like the tall grass you ran your hands over in the summer, his kisses were soft and warm and warmed you, head to toe.

“You’ve been thinking about this for a long time, haven’t you?” Your brows raised. You were no longer chilled to the bone- you had thawed.

“Since the first day I met you.” Victor whispered against your hand.

You grinned, leaning in a little bit, catching his eyes in yours. “How about you stop kissing my hand and kiss somewhere else, Victor?”

The doctor stopped talking, mouth slamming shut and eyes flickering to your lips. He cleared his throat softly, and exhaled a shaky chuckle. "I... I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"You're not." A smile pressed to your lips again and you moved your head, catching his eyes.

It took a moment. He nodded, leaning in halfway, and closing his eyes. His hands closed around yours, lips expectant.

You reached up and stroked a hand in his tangle of curls before closing the space. He flinched once your lips brushed his, but leaned back in, solidifying it. Everything fell into place, suddenly. The tugging at your heart every time you saw him, loving the way his name, him, tasted in your mouth, and those flashes of the tenderness you got- his doctorly touch examining your wounds, the fussing and concerns not always done out of his medical oath- how much of it had been done out of love?

Victor broke back, for a moment, enough for him to whisper your name, leaning in and kissing you, deeper, sweeter, humming against you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and sighed, willing the rain to fall for as long as it wanted to- you had all you would need right here.

#tbb western au #tech x reader #tech x you #bad batch tech x you #bad batch tech x reader #tech #minty writes #clone force 99 reader insert #bad batch reader insert

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wherethewordsare · 3 years

Text

Birds of a Feather

For @notsafeformurphy who was having a day of it the other day and we got to talking and.... oops this happened. This honestly started out as a nature docu au and ended up a coffee shop au? Idk man.... Anyway, Shay I hope you enjoy this!

Also tagging @herostag since it was requested. and @jaskierswolf cause I think they’re gonna start yelling at me if i keep forgetting. Going to try to get my tag list back together if anyone is interested. <3 <3 <3 Hope yall enjoy Jaskier huffed as he flopped over again, his body refusing to just relax down into his mattress and let him sleep. It had been a stressful day and to make matters worse, it had been the third night in a row where he was simply unable to sleep.

Giving up, he reached for his phone, scrolling through youtube for a moment, looking for something that he could just zone out to for a little while. Usually he would put on music or white noise but even that didn’t seem like it would be helpful. He had to find something extremely dull and maybe a bit pretty.

He scrolled past a thumbnail of three large men in park uniforms. Two of them looked like they were at least somewhat interested in being there while one tall man with near white hair simply scowled at the camera.

Wild Wednesdays with the Rivia Nature Reserve the title read.

“Okay, I’ll bite,” Jaskier huffed as he rolled onto his stomach. He pulled the kickstand of his phone case out and set it up before pressing play and curling his arms around his pillow.

“This week, we’ll be talking to Geralt Rivia, our resident raptor specialist about what goes into rehabilitation efforts when it comes to conservation,” someone said off camera, cheerily. When the camera panned to Geralt Rivia however, he did not seem to share the narrator’s same upbeat tone.

For a few minutes, the narrator off camera seemed to try to ask Geralt about himself, only getting stilted answers and that same scowl that had been in the thumbnail. Jaskier snorted with a smirk.

“You’re not having any of this, are you? You’re gorgeous though,” he chuckled. He felt his back relax as he yawned, snuggling closer into his pillow.

And then it happened. From off camera, someone handed Geralt a leather glove that he put on easily before taking a cord. He clicked a bit and the scowl he had moments ago melted into a fond smile.

“And who is this?” the narrator asked. They clearly had picked up on the shift in Geralt’s demeanor as a small falcon took up perch on his forearm.

He actually cooed at the bird for a moment before holding it up for the camera. “This is Roach. She’s one of our recent rescues.” He smiled, a barely there tilt of his lips and his honey colored eyes softened. Jaskier got the impression on anyone else, it would have been a full grin.

“Oh, I like that look,” Jaskier murmured, feeling his cheeks heat up.

“And what is Roach?” the person asked off camera.

Geralt took a step back, turning his arm slightly, causing the bird to flap agitatedly at him as she kept her balance. “Yes, I know, but I have to show off how pretty you are,” he said to the bird, fond and warm.

“Oh no,” Jaskier whispered into his pillow. “He’s soft and hot.”

“Roach here is a red-tailed hawk. They’re pretty common through North America,” he explained, pointing out the red-brown of her tail. The hawk nipped at him as he got her to open her wings for the camera and he only chuckled. “She’s about six, the same age as my daughter actually. And,” he leaned in conspiratorially, “I’ll be honest with you, I’m not sure which one is less well behaved.”

Roach must have understood a bit of that because she gave a cry before nipping at Geralt’s hair, clearly annoyed.

“Listen, if you weren’t so hornery, I wouldn’t say it,” he said to Roach, pulling another scowl but there was clearly no heat in it.

This was not the same man from the thumbnail or the same man that barely gave answers about himself at the beginning of the clip. When that bird sat on his arm, he lit up and Jaskier was weak.

Geralt answered a few other questions about hawks and about the reserves program for rehabbing hawks, his voice deep and gravely. He would have sounded gruff if not for how much he clearly loved what he did.

Geralt looked at Roach a little sadly. “Unfortunately for our little lady here, she won’t be able to return to the wild. Due to her injuries when she came to us, she won’t be able to hunt on her own,” he gave her a soft smile before he petted down her neck gently.

Jaskier’s eyes were starting to feel heavy. He had turned into the pillow, letting Geralt’s voice wash over him with simple facts about red-tail hawks as he drifted off to sleep. It hadn’t been dull at all but there was something about the way Geralt spoke that just melted him into his mattress.

When he woke, his phone was dead, probably from being set to autoplay. As it charged, he looked at the videos that had played while he was asleep, most of them from the Rivia Nature Reserve. There were a few specials with other team members but Jaskier picked out the ones that mentioned Geralt Rivia directly.

It had become a near routine and soon, Jaskier found that he just slept better after watching those nature clips. Sometimes, Geralt wasn’t even on camera, simply walking through the process of population counting for the reserve as the camera panned around to different birds up in the trees. There were other videos featuring Roach the red-tailed hawk as well and it was clear that she was a favorite, not only of Geralt’s but the viewers as well.

Within three weeks, Jaskier had made his way through nearly the whole catalog of the reserve’s videos. He knew he would move on from tall, silver and brooding and find his next sleep fix but for now he simply enjoyed it.

He should have said no, he should have mentioned that he simply did not do morning shifts, and there was a reason for that, but Essi had been persistent, almost feral about him taking her shift.

“Please, Jask. I promise, you won’t regret it!” She grinned at him and there was something in her eyes that sent up a dozen red flags.

“What are you plotting?” He asked flatly, squinting at her over his glass of wine.

“Not a thing, darling, just trust me on this,” she giggled, sipping her own wine neatly.

It hadn’t been a terrible morning, though Jaskier was barely managing to stay upright by the the coffee grinder. He was used to staying up long nights and it hadn’t changed anything when he knew he would have to open.

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

I know you mentioned he had a kid, but he’s single. You’re gonna want to put a blueberry muffin in right now.

He blinked at his phone, squinting as he tried to decode just what the fuck Essi was saying.

What?

But he put in the blueberry muffin, his phone on the counter as he watched the three little dots dance where Essi was texting back.

You still owe me a no questions.

“What the fuck is she even-” Jaskier heard the bell above the door just as he set the timer for the oven.

“-and so I tell him that if he isn’t going to at least make an attempt to clear out the back trails, we’re going to find a new contractor.” Came a voice behind him.

Jaskier froze, his hand on his phone. He nearly threw it in a panic. He recognized that voice. He’d recognize that voice in the dark, though to be fair, he usually listened to it in the dark.

He glanced over his shoulder and sure enough, Geralt Rivia was standing at his counter with two others from the nature reserve.

“Be with you in just a minute!” he tried for cheery and landed firmly in panicked. He ducked behind the large coffee machine and shot a text back to Essi.

I haven’t decided on whether or not I love you more than anything or if I’m ever going to

speak to you again!

Have fun! ;)

That bitch. It had been a setup! He adored her, the meddling little sneak. He schooled his face the best he could, knowing full well that his ears were still the color of the strawberry frap they served.

“Morning, what can I get you guys?” He asked as he wet his lips, trying not to stare right into Geralt’s gorgeous face.

“Three coffees, a blueberry muffin warmed up and a plain bagel, untoasted,” Geralt said offhandedly as he looked around. “No Essi today?”

“Uh, no. I’m filing in this morning. Jaskier, at your service.” As he dipped his head in a mock bow he internally cursed himself. One day, one normal day, that was all he asked for. “Hope the bagel isn’t for Roach. I’m not sure she’d like it. How is she? We haven’t seen her much recently?” He shot off without thinking as he started to pour the coffees. He froze again as his brain caught up with his mouth.

Behind Geralt, both of the men snorted. “Looks like you’ve got a fan, pretty boy,” the darker haired one jostled Geralt’s shoulder with a smirk.

Geralt only stood there, tilting his head slightly as though he wasn’t sure what had just happened.

“Ah, I mean…” Jaskier fumbled, nearly spilling one of the coffees down his own front.

“She’s doing fine actually,” there was a soft smile on his face, the same he wore when he got to handle the birds directly and Jaskier could feel himself melt on the spot. “Naughty as ever. Learned a new trick to take a swipe at Lambert here if he’s holding the feed bucket,” there was a low rumble of a chuckle.

The dark haired one behind Geralt stopped laughing abruptly. “She’s a menace.” He growled, picking up his own coffee from the counter.

Behind Jaskier, the oven dinged. “Oh and your muffin!” He turned, letting himself have the moment his back was to them to silently scream. He had been tricked! He had been set up! He was going to try to get this man’s number and he would never hear the end of it.

“You already had it in?” Geralt asked, that smile still in place.

“What can I say, we make sure to take care of our favorite customers.” He was almost proud of himself at how smoothly that had come out as he turned to look back at Geralt. He should have been paying attention to the muffin as it dropped, missing the bag completely and splatting on the floor.

“Fuck,” Jaskier nearly cried. “I am so sorry. Give me, just a moment, I’ll get another one in for you.”

He watched as Geralt ducked his head, smirking. “Would you like to meet her?” He gave another tilt of his head, his eyes clearly looking Jaskier up and down.

He was sure he had died. This wasn’t real. This was the good place. Or the bad place. Either way, this place was the place his soul had clearly left his body. He stood there, cold muffin in hand as he gaped at Geralt.

“Uh-”

“You don’t,” Geralt cleared his throat, “I was just wondering since you seemed… to be a… fan.” His face slipped into a scowl and no. No that wouldn’t do at all.

“I would love to, yeah. I’m off at three?”

“Oh! Jaskier! Thank you for coming in to open. I can take it from here,” Essi slipped in beside him, taking the muffin from his hand. “Morning, Dr. Rivia,” she nearly sang, her face smug.

“Dead. You’re very very dead when I see you again,” Jaskier whispered to her though he couldn’t stop grinning.

“So you were saying?” Geralt asked, leaning against the counter.

“Turns out, I’m free as a bird, you’d say.” Jaskier chuckled as he slipped his apron off and made his way around the counter.

Geralt snorted and rolled his eyes but took his coffee and muffin from Essi. “You know that phrase ‘eat like a bird’ is really not that good of a way of saying that someone doesn’t eat much?”

Behind them, Lambert scoffed. “Here we fucking go again. I said I was sorry for bringing it up!”

Later that afternoon he found himself wearing a glove similar to the one he had first seen Geralt in, a small tawny owl bobbing on his arm as he looked on in wonder. He had met Roach and she had nipped at his hair and shirt, screeching when food wasn’t produced.

“Hmm, let’s get Scorpion. He won’t tear you to shreds,” Geralt gave Roach a fond little tap on her wing with the back of his fingers.

By the end of the day he left with a few knicks in his fingers and a phone number. He had never slept better.

#geraskier #modern #ecologist geralt #cause always #roach is a hawk #meet cute #jaskier is a disaster #but we love him anyways #witcher fanfiction #this is... a mess #and i am so sorry

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vanilla-vivillon · 3 years

Note

"we're exes and we meet again" maybe?

Oooooooooh interesting!!! I decided to do a Genya Safin x David Kostyk one because I haven’t done that yet for some reason

Also college AU yes please.

Genya Safin knows what she wants

And what she wants is to get through her studies

Become a plastic surgeon

Support her friends

Maybe get a cat

What she doesn’t want is to meet her high school ex at a party

She doesn’t want to talk with him for hours

She doesn’t want to relive the hurt

But the universe never does care for what we want does it

“C’mon Nazyalensky it will be fun!” Nikolai was trying to convince Zoya to come to the party he was throwing in his dorm

Nikolai was throwing a party to celebrate the start of there third year at Stanford

“Nikolai there is a lot of studying we should be doing instead of drinking our cares away” Zoya shot back

“Genya, love, please knock some sense into Zoya?”

“It could be fun, plus the school year started two weeks ago. No profesor is going to assign a big test anytime soon” Genya said

“You have never met Proffesor Baghra” Zoya said Speeding up

They were all walking to the dormitories together

Zoya was studying law. She wants to be a lawyer

“Are you really gonna let some old hag with a stick up her ass ruin your fun?” Genya retorted stopping in front of them

After a long pause zoya finnally relents and says “Fine. I’ll go, but for you, that way your not stuck with Alina and Mals drama”

Ever since Alina started screwing the professor with the the dreamy dark eyes and looked far to good to ever be a professor, mal had been insufferable

Flashing his million dollar smile Nikolai turned towards Zoya “I knew you would see sense”

“Now leave my sight before I change my mind” Nikolai sped off towards his dorm no doubt to finish preparations for tonight

Genya typically enjoyed parties

Cool people, cool music, cool boys

The list went on

Reapplying her deep red lipstick Genya turned towards her roommate Alina

Alina Starkov was a foster kid bouncing around homes in a small town, Keramzin.

She and her friend Mal felt so out of place in California

Genya helped her a lot in the first year and after some drama in there second year friendship was finally back on track

“Okay how do I look?” Genya asked giving a little spin

She chose a short red dress with a black leather jacket and thigh high black boots

“You look Perfect” Alina complimented finishing up on her own eyeliner

“Of course I do”

Alina laughed that fluttery sound that had become far to rare these days

“Listen Alina, I’m worried about you”

Alina took a pause before answering “I’m fine Genya”

“Alina you’re sleeping with your professor”

“So what!” Alina snapped “We’re both adults! Besides I don’t want to talk about this tonight, let’s just go to the party”

Genya let out a sigh

Sometimes Alina could be the most stubborn woman on earth

“Fine”

Loud music was blaring through the speakers Nikolai borrowed from Mal

Genya was socializing with some of her friends

While Genya did like parties the constant people was always a little stressful for her

So after giving some dating advice Genya went to go grab some beer

Pouring it Genya reflected

She was doing well in her classes, most of her friends were okay, she personally didn’t have a cat but across the hall from her is some dude Harshaw who did

one thing was missing

Him

Journals and glasses and caramel candies

Genya had been in love once in her life

And it’s seemed once was all she would ever get

“Oh sorry!” Genya exclaimed accidently spilling beer on someone

Looking up she lost her breath

There he was

All brown hair and wide eyes and sunkissed skin

And all the memories came crashing back

Geny first fell in love with him in the sixth grade

Well not love really

More like awe.

Back then he was really into legos

He built this giant airplane that Genya thought was so cool

But they first talked in seventh grade

They were partners in a group project

David hadn’t been very interested in Genya then

But Genya even then loved the way his brain worked

But she never said anything

In there sophomore year of high school after years of being friends Genya finally got the courage and told him her feelings

David was so suprised then he had to leave the room and come back two minutes later to say he reciprocated her feelings

They started dating and were inseparable

Whenever David had been pulling an all nighter on some new idea she would go over to his house and bring him some Carmel candies

Whenever she raved on about this new surgery technique he would listen and give her that soft beautiful smile he rarely showed anyone

But there happiness came crashing down in senior year

David was going to go to MIT all the way in Massachusetts while Genya wanted to go to Stanford in California since she was a kid

At first they were going to do long distance

But it didn’t work out

They both got busy

And didn’t talk

And Genya hated having a boyfriend who was never there

There was never some big fight

Never some big cheating scandal

One day Genya posted a picture of her on a date with the cute classmate who winked at her and that was that

They never saw each other again

But that might change tonight where she met those impossible chocolate eyes again

“What are you doing here?” Genya said after her shock

“Genya, I…. I live here” David said stuttering

Clearly he was just as suprised as she was

“Hey Genya you meet my new roommate David!” Suddenly Nikolai appeared “He just transferred from MIT”

Transferred

He transferred

David Kostyk transferred to Stanford

The one who got away was standing right in front of her

“Do you two know each other?” Nikolai asked sensing the tension

Ignoring him, Genya said “would you like to talk outside?”

After knowing David for years Genya knew she should probably initiate conversation

David gave a slow nod ignoring his roommate’s bewildered face

Walking outside they turned to each other again

He had gotten cuter if that was even possible

“So…. You transferred?” Genya attempted to start talking

“MIT was great, but it felt kinda isolating. So when Nikolai suggested transferring… I took him up on the offer”

That made sense

David always had a hard time making friends

In high school Genya practically had to force him into her friend group

It mustve be hard all alone

Genya was the opposite

Although all through elementary school she was ruthlessly bullied and sophomore year of college was complicated, she had always been able to make friends

“Well I’m glad your here now” Genya said looking away to hide her blush

“I think I’m glad to”

David and Genya talked the whole night

About there studies and friends

Genya couldn’t way to introduce him to Alina

They had a lot in commmon

Things between the two weren’t perfect

But then again in matters of the heart it never was

Genya wasn’t sure of what she wanted

But if she had a Carmel loving genius by her side she might be able to be okay with that

Omg it’s finally done. This has to be one of the most difficult things I’ve written. I didn’t enjoy it at all but I’m really glad I went through with it. Thank you @ninamorozova and @confused-as-all-hell for encouraging me to complete this.

Thank you @wafflesandschemingfaces for the prompt

If yall really like this I might make a part two with David’s perspective

Please reblog. Likes are nice but te logs actually help

My ask box is open and I take any Grishaverse requests

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toutallyahoe · 3 years

Note

hi!! could you do some soft hannibal or will hcs? or some soft remus lupin hcs? if not thats fine!

a/n: ayyyyyy

first off i just want to say sorry for not posting a lot these days. shit happened here but now im back (for now) to do hcs!

second off, yall are gonna hate me for this but i dont actually watch hannibal soooo, i dont know how to write for him and such... but remus lupin? fahajshwheahakhd gotchu

third off, high school/past au because i just want to write remus being goofy and also a bit anxious on his nature

anyways, onto the hcs!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

remus never thought he'll fall in love really

he was more focused on trying to stop his chaotic friends from causing more mayhem but get dragged into it

and his small problem being a warewolf to keep secret

besides, remus has some high expectations even if he doesnt want to admit it

remus would like someone to be soft and caring

loving him and be understanding towards his little warewolf problem (if he tells them)

and most important, he may not have thought about his partner's gender as he was more going to focused on personality really, but still, remus would have liked a female partner

so, imagine his surprise when he caught feelings on a certain [hogwarts house] boy the same year as him?

remus was confused at first

he didnt know what he was feeling and his friends noticed it

remus didnt really want to confide with them, but he knew sooner or later, theyll find out eventually like how they discovered his secret

so, he told them his confusing feelings

and let me tell you, the three boys looked at him confused at first until they looked each other with shit eating grins

well, sirius and james have those shit eating grins while peter looked a bit excited at him

"guess potter isnt the only lovesick puppy huh?" sirius teased as the three began to laugh

until james realized sirius was saying he was a "lovesick puppy" towards lily, which immediately made him shout a unamused "hey! i do not!"

as sirius and james began to banter at each other and peter was trying to be the peacemaker, remus took a second to process what his friend just said

until the realization hit in and made remus red and stuttering mess

remus was in denial, to the amusement of his friends

he cant be!

he wasnt gay— not that being gay is a problem or anything, he never just expected him to be one

he didnt like [name] like that way, right???

he barely knew the guy!!!

remus was in denial for a few days until his friend had snapped some sense to him

by literally dragging [name] to their lunch table

they didnt care if [name] was in another house or not, they still dragged his ass over and made him sit next to remus who was having an internal breakdown

apparently sirius, james and peter decided to be remus' wingman, even if remus didnt want them too

but anyways

sirius, james and peter would ask [name] questions as they ate, wanting to getting to know their future buddy and trying to slip remus in the conversation

they thought they were slick at it, but nope!

they arent

"so [name]? watcha like to do?"

"oh, well i like literatur—"

"you know, our buddy remus likes books too!"

"really? thats nice. i also like chocolat—"

"chocolates?!? wow! our buddy o pal remus has a massive sweet tooth, did you know that?"

"maybe you both could go to honeydukes together this weekend!"

they were that bad

they werent subtle at all

remus is just internally suffering

why was his friends like this?

why was he even friends with them?

remus was super embarrassed but to his utter surprise— [name] actually seemed to be down on visiting honeydukes with him to buy some sweets

of course, [name] didnt really think on it other than a friendly hang out (at first)

but to the three, this was the start to hook their beloved puppy remus to [name]

it took a while but [name] and remus' relationship grown closer and a few months, they finally got together

it almost took a year for them to realize their feeling for each other (remus and [name]) if it wasnt for that mistletoe accident in the greathall on christmas day

sirius and james were bragging that they were the ones to have placed those mistletoe there

but thats a lie

peter did and the two placed mistletoes in other rooms

peter was the smart one to put a mistletoe under above the entrance of the door while sirius and james literally decorated every corner of the great hall with mistletoe because apparently they thought it would made sure remus and [name] would kiss

and that james was also trying to get a kiss from lily under those mistletoes too because it was "romantic" and that itll make her definitely "fall in love" with him

but anyways, [name] was soft for remus and remus was soft for [name]

the two only have little bumps in their relationship but mostly, they try to understand each other and hear one another out

remus always liked their tradition on winter to cuddle in front of the fireplace in the gryffindor common room

remus prefers to be the small spoon but wouldnt mind cuddling [name] too

he likes to be held since he could snuggle and hear [name]'s calming heartbeat

of course those moments are sometimes destroyed by his friends inserting themselves to their cuddle sessions

but remus wouldnt have it either way

[name] doesnt mind aswell

it was annoying at first but over time, he grown fond of remus' friends

another sweet thing that [name] does that makes remus so soft is that [name] makes sure that he is loved

[name] seems to noticed when he is down and will always give him a soft peck on his forehead, embrace him tightly and mutter how much he is adored

[name] also doesnt questions on the scars he had obtained over his little problem

in fact, [name] just reminds him that [name] loves him so much

[name] makes him feel loved and always tell him that he is beautiful in [name]'s eyes

when remus told [name] about him being a warewolf

remus was terrified and thought [name] leave him

but this guy was so full of surprises

[name] was a bit shock and was quiet for a while, but then he just embraces remus tightly and running his hands over remus' hair and whispers he still loves remus no matter what

remus cried that day

what have he even done to deserve [name]?

he doesnt know but he was happy to meet the guy who loves him, even with all his flaws

remus was sure [name] was the one and he hopes he'll get to be a [last name] in the far future

#ask #2 #headcanons request #headcanons #hp #harry potter x male reader #hp x male reader #harry potter #remus #lupin #remus lupin #remus x male reader #remus lupin x male reader #x male reader #male reader insert #male reader #top male reader #seme male reader #dom male reader

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lostbbygorl · 3 years

Text

IN ANOTHER LIFE, FOR SURE: EREMIKA

Genre: FLUFF, MODERN AU, SLIGHT CANONVERSE AU, REINCARNATION AU

~~~~~~

Once again, Mikasa lay curled up in a ball like a kitten on top of Eren’s grave. Armin and Jean watched the sight of the young girl refusing to leave the side of her lover, even in death, a month after his passing, with melancholy in their eyes.

Mikasa told herself and everyone else that she was fine. She was strong, and nothing could change the past (Well, Eren could…). She knew she was lying, and so did everyone else, but what’s a girl to do if the man she’s loved since childhood were to never awaken again, and that too for the safety of humanity? She sobbed and she sobbed, and then she covered up all traces that she sobbed. It was a regular cycle. It was tiring. Nobody knew when it would end, but everyone mustered up all the sensitivity they had in them, and didn’t pressure her to make it end.

But enough is enough, and we all hit our breaking point. Mikasa Ackerman hit hers on a peaceful morning in a bed of bright purple flowers as a majestic bird flew over her. Connie had realized that Mikasa was sleeping longer than usual, and when he stooped down to shake her gently so that she’d rise, the horrified boy noticed that she was completely still, and devoid of any pulse, breath, or heartbeat.

And so, the last Ackerman woman was buried beside her lover, and teary eyes surrounded their eternal slumbers as friends and family said goodbye to them one last time.

The second time Mikasa opened her eyes, she was in a room with pastel walls and toys littered on the floor. Hey grey orbs were met by two overjoyed faces. One of a blond man, and the other of a raven haired woman. They fed her milk, played with her, and gave her unconditional love. And so, Mikasa grew into a beautiful, sensible young woman for the second time. Her life was a dream! Two amazing parents, a group of loyal friends, and unmatched beauty to top it all of, along with good grades of course.

But there was something she absolutely couldn’t explain! Mikasa would sometimes wake up in a cold sweat after a horrible nightmare, and sometimes a queer dream. These dreams didn’t occur every night, but they weren’t terribly infrequent either. Mikasa saw gigantic, hideous man eating beasts, and young ones around her age whooshing threw the air with blades to decapitate the beasts. She often saw herself behead the creatures, and she saw her best friend, Armin beside her too, along with her other friends. The less scary ones were just as confusing. She saw visions of herself on horseback riding through a dense forest, she saw visions of herself sparring with teens in military style uniforms. But the most confusing dreams, and the most common ones, consisted of a tall boy with dark hair and turquoise eyes.

She saw herself run beside him and fight beside him. She caught his name twice. What was it again? Oh, yeah, Eren Yeager. Mikasa had no idea why she saw this boy so often, and why a part of her mourned for him and yearned for him too. Oftentimes when she had nothing else to do, she’d wonder who he was, and if he did exist, was he doing well? A familiar sense of fondness washed over her everytime she thought of him.

It was finally time for her to go to college. The first day of college fell on the first snowfall, and it was cold outside. Mikasa shot Armin and Sasha a quick text to see if they were waiting outside the college campus for her as planned the week before, and then proceeded to leave her apartment, the keychains of her black Jansport backpack dangling as she walked.

The college halls bustled with chatter as new students and welcoming teachers conversed with each other and scurried around to find their classes. Armin was going off about his linguistics major and his excitement for his first class. Mikasa listened with a small smile on her face, till a particular new student nearly made her heart stop…

Standing in front of her was the boy she had been seeing in her sleep for the past 19 years. He was a tall, well built boy with his shoulder length hair tied in a halfway man bun, gleaming turquoise eyes, and a boyish smile that the girls definitely went wild over! He was currently talking to a shorter, lean female professor who Armin mentioned was Ms. Hange Zoe, the biomedicals head. “I feel like that subject will be the most interesting, what about you Mika? Mika? Hello! Earth to Mikasa!”, Armin said, taking her attention back to him. “Huh? Sorry. I zoned out”, she murmured.

“You were staring at that dude”

“Wasn’t”

“Was”

“Wasn’t”

“Hey, guys. Are yall new here too?”, the third voice joined in. It was Eren Yeager! Or at least, his doppleganger.

“Uh yeah. Hey, I’m Armin, and this is my best friend Mikasa”, Armin introduced.

“Nice to meet you both. I’m Eren”, the boy returned. The blood in Mikasa’s ears rushed and her hands quivered at Eren’s words.

“So, what are your subjects?”, Eren asked.

“I’m doing linguistics”, Armin chirped.

“Um, I’m doing psychology, Eren”, Mikasa stammered as she looked into his all too familiar eyes.

“Oh wow. Me and you are both doing psychology then. I shall see you in class”, he grinned.

“I wanna hang with you too though, Armin”, he added in a friendly manner. Armin and Eren made more small talk as Mikasa’s brain whirred 1000 miles per second. How? What the? One thing was for sure though, she’d get to the bottom of this boy no matter what!

“Um, can I have your numbers?”, Eren asked.

“Yeah sure. Armin, give him my number. I gotta rush to the toilet real quick”

“Sure, Mika”.

Mikasa ran to the nearest ladies washroom and locked herself in a free cubicle. There, she hyperventilated and attempted to calm down.

Her dreams would for sure be getting more intense tonight.

The fluttering of her heart and the tiny rays of sadness that she linked with this familiarly unfamiliar boy sure had gotten more intense….

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shadow-assassin-blix · 3 years

Text

Parent Trap

Part 1

A/N: It’s here yall. The Marcus Moreno x Reader Parent Trap AU. There are some swears. Some point of view switching but I note it in bold.

‘Thoughts’ “Speak”

The Hero:

Marcus Moreno was in the middle of meeting with the Heroics. Going over assignments, and potential threats to be on the lookout. He was listening to Miracle Guy talk about something ridiculous when his cellphone went off. He glanced down, and his eyes widen in surprised. It was Missy’s school.

He quickly answered it, saying, “Hello?”

“Hello, Mr. Moreno? This is Principal O’Shaughnessy. If you could please come down to the school, as soon as possible. There’s been an incident involving your daughter and two other students,” Came an older male voice.

“I’m on my way,” Marcus got up and rushed out, not caring that he left in the middle of a meeting.

The Artist:

Y/N Graves was a simple woman. She worked as artist, which meant she was often home, elbow deep into whatever project she was working on currently. That was where she was when her phone rang.

She dropped her paint brush to answer it with a cheery, “‘Ello?”

“Miss Graves, this is Principal O’Shaughnessy, your daughter Artemis? Was involved in an incident at school with two other students. If you could please come as soon as possible,” Came a man’s voice.

“Be there soon,” She hung up, quickly cleaning her brushes before she left.

She hopped into her car and drove to the school; thankful it was only a couple blocks away. She made her way inside and to the principal’s office. She stops short when she sees her daughter standing near another little girl, with long curly black hair and dark eyes. Before noticing the third kid, a boy, who was sitting in a plastic chair, with a black eye and tissues up his nose to stop the bleeding.

“What the fu—frick?” She whispered taking in everything with slight horror.

Artemis giggled softly at her almost swearing. She goes to say something to her when she felt someone crash into her from behind. She stumbled forward trying to regain her balance. She turned around to yell but stopped.

“Marcus?” She asked staring at a face she hadn’t seen in years.

“Shade?” He parroted calling her by her nickname, one she hadn’t heard in years.

She then asked, “Please tell me that one is not yours,” pointing at the boy.

“No. The other one behind you,” Marcus said with a chuckle.

Before they could say much more a woman with dyed hair, lululemons and a tank top came in, her voice high-pitched with outrage at the sight of her kid.

“What happened to my baby!?” She screeched out.

The Principal cleared his throat at that time, to gain everyone’s attention. Shade moved over to stand by her daughter, as Marcus did the same.

“Mrs. Delaney, it appears that your son was bullying, Miss Moreno here. Miss Moreno tried to walk away from him several times, but your son continued to follow her, and even began shoving her. That was when Miss Graves stepped in, and punched your son,” Mr. O’Shaughnessy explained reading off an incident report.

“Or at least that was what stated from the teacher’s watching. Miss Moreno, would you like to tell us what happened?” He directed his attention to Marcus’ daughter.

“Tommy was teasing me about not having active powers. He kept saying mean things like ‘oh your dad must be disappointed in having a lame daughter.’ And stuff like that. I tried to walk away from him several times, but he wouldn’t leave me alone. Artemis came over and told him to go away. When he didn’t, she punched him, telling him to leave me alone,” Missy recounted staring at the ground.

“What lies! My Tommy would never! I hope you plan on punishing them!” Mrs. Delaney exclaimed angrily.

Shade rolled her eyes to the high heavens and stared at this dramatic woman, pointedly.

“My daughter defended her friend. Against a bully. If anyone should be punished, it should be your kid. It’s not our fault you raised an ass,” Shade sassed, crossing her arms.

Mrs. Delaney gasped in exaggerated horror, even going so far as to covering her son’s ears. The girls giggled quietly at her, and Marcus was trying not to laugh.

“Mrs. Graves, if you could please refrain from the foul language. Mrs. Delaney, I have warned you multiple times about Tommy’s behaviors. This is the last straw. He will be suspended for 2 weeks. As for Miss Graves, seeing as this is your first offense, you will get a warning. I do not tolerate fighting on school grounds, got it?” Mr. O’Shaughnessy cut in.

Mrs. Delaney grabbed her son, muttering something ‘I have never..’ and left.

The kids still have a couple hours left of class, but the principal gave them permission to leave early if they wished. The girls went and got their bags and whatever assignments they were going to miss for the day. Marcus and Shade stood outside by the entrance waiting for them.

The Kids:

Missy looked over at Artemis and asked, “So. You saw our parents act weird when they saw each other right?”

Artemis nodded as she grabbed her jacket and bag. “They clearly know each other. Did you see the way they looked at each?”

“All goo-goo eyed? Yes! I haven’t seen my dad look like that since…” Missy trailed off, thinking in her head, ‘since before my mom passed away.’

Artemis, who had made fast friends with Missy when she moved here a month ago, knew what she was thinking of. Artemis reached out and held her hand, giving it a small squeeze. Missy smiled at her in response and the 2 of them walked out to their parents.

Artemis looked at her mom and Missy’s dad and got an idea, “Mom, can we go get ice cream? I know that fighting is bad and all, but I was defending my friend.”

Her mom sighed, and looked at the two of them, with squinting eyes. She turned to Missy’s dad and said, “What do ya think? Think they’ve earned a treat?”

The Hero:

He looked at the kids and then back at Shade, who had a soft smile. “Sure. Why not?”

The girls cheered and rushed to the cars. “Uh. Pops on 15th St. sound good?” He asked.

“That place still exists? Damn,” Shade chuckled looking off to the side. “Uh. Yeah. Pops sounds good to me. See ya there in a minute.”

Marcus smiled, lightly biting his lip before making his way to his car, as Shade did the same.

Missy was already in the backseat, buckled up and ready to go. The drive to Pops was a quick 10 minutes, and as they made there way inside, they noticed Shade and Artemis hadn’t arrived yet, so they took a seat in a booth. Missy insisted that she sit on the outside, and Marcus complied with a shake of his head.

He heard the door opened and looked up to see Shade standing there and he was thrown back to all the times he took her here on a date. She was still just as beautiful as he remembered her.

The Artist:

As Shade stepped inside, she was hit with a wave of nostalgia. Pops still looked the same as it did when she was a teenager. She finds Marcus easy enough; he too looked a little dazed at being back here.

Her and Artemis go to join them, Artemis insisting to sit on the outside as well. Shade rolled her eyes and allowed it this one time.

The waitress came up and took their orders. 15 minutes passed and soon 4 milkshakes, 2 large and 2 kids sized in to-go cups, were set in front of them. The girls grabbed theirs and ran off to sit at another table, giggling.

“I feel like we are being set-up,” Shade whispered with a raised eyebrow.

“Possibly,” Marcus agreed, before clearing his throat.

“So. How.. How have you been?” He asked awkwardly.

“Been pretty good. I see you’ve been busy,” She quietly teased nodding to his wedding ring.

“Oh! Um. Yeah. But… uh… not,” He stammered trying to respond.

Shade gave him a look of sudden realization, “How long?”

“About 6 years. Cancer,” He answered lowly not wanting Missy to hear.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I bet she was wonderful,” She said with a sad smile.

“She was. Umm. Ahem. What about you? Ever get married or got someone special waiting at home?” he asked trying to redirect the attention off of him.

“Nope. Uh. Had a boyfriend for a couple years. He left the day I told him I was pregnant. So. It’s been just the 2 of us ever since,” Shade explained after taking a long sip from her milkshake.

“Then he didn’t deserve either of you,” Marcus replied, his voice soft.

Shade smiled, looking down to hide her face.

She cleared her throat and noticed out of the corner of her eye, Missy and Artemis were watching them intently.

“Marcus… I think our kids are trying to set us up,” She muttered. “Glance over at them casually.”

Marcus does so and sees the two of them trying to act nonchalantly but were very much keeping an eye on them.

He chuckled, “No. They’re just.. Concerned. They’re best friends who want to make sure we get along.”

“Mh. I don’t know. My kid can be quite devious. Her favorite movie is The Parent Trap. Well. Next to The Mummy,” Shade wasn’t convinced.

Marcus laughed at that and stared at her softly.

“Not gonna lie… I’ve missed you,” Marcus admitted.

“I missed you as well. Maybe um.. Maybe we can set up a day to catch up?” Shade offered hopeful.

“I’d like that, maybe Saturday? We can leave the kids with my mom for the day. We can… go to the park or that café you like so much? Well. If you still like it that is,” Marcus rambled slightly.

“I do. Sounds like a date,” Shade said confirming the idea.

They exchanged numbers and finished their shakes, before rounding up their kids.

She waved goodbye to him as they parted ways.

Artemis was bouncing up and down in her seat.

“Clearly, you are having a sugar overload, guess we need to work that off,” Shade stated, shaking her head.

“No. Just happy. How do you know Mr. Moreno, mama?” Artemis asked as they began to drive off.

“We dated in high school, and through a good portion of college,” Shade explained glancing back at her through the rear-view mirror.

“Oh. Why did you break up?” Artemis asked curiously.

“He was becoming a pretty famous Heroic and I was making a name for myself in the art field. We drifted. We hardly ever saw each other and when we did, we argued a lot. So, we figured it was better if we broke up,” Shade acknowledged with a sad sigh.

“But… you still like him? And he clearly likes you?” Artemis questioned, looking confused.

“Yes. I do still like him, and how do you know he likes me?” Shade countered with a grin.

“He stared at you like Rick does when he sees Evy,” Artemis said matter of factly, referencing The Mummy.

Shade laughed at how seriously she said that. ‘Kids.’

The Hero:

Missy looked at her dad and smiled at the dreamy face he was making.

“You like her?” Missy asked with a silly smile.

“I do. Does that bother you? Me liking someone?” Marcus asked worriedly.

“Dad. I don’t think mom would be mad if you moved on. I just want you to be happy. You work so much to make me happy and when you’re not with me, you’re saving the world. I think you deserve to be happy too,” Missy assured hugging him.

“When did you get so smart?” He asked, returning the hug.

“I learned from you, duh,” She answered cutely.

“Now you’re just sucking up. C’mon. Let’s go home. I have a lot of explaining to do for running out in the middle of a meeting,” Marcus said as the two of them hopped into the car.

“Also. I hope you know… I have never been disappointed in you not having active powers. You’re my daughter and I love you so much. Your power is far more special than being able to fly or run fast.” He mentioned looking back at her.

Missy nodded her head muttering, “I love you too. Thank you.”

The Kids:

That night, Missy and Artemis texted one another, concocting a plan to get their parents together. Their plan was slightly devious, but it was their parents own good. They just hoped it would work.

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #parent trap au

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carolmaximoffs · 4 years

Text

heat

summary: the AC is broken, it’s summer in the city, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen that much of your roommate. (no powers/modern au)

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: cursing, unprotected sex (pls use protection yall), s e x, dirty talk, 18+ pLease, overuse of italics bc i want people to understand that bucky is a Specimen

a/n: and they were roommates...no but you know that prompt that’s like the AC is broken and now we’re naked? that. this is that.

@moteldwelling it’s not much, but let me know what you think?

YOUR CHEEK PEELS OFF THE FLOOR as you turn your head towards the sound of someone approaching. Bucky stops somewhere behind you, poking a toe into your shoulder blade just to hear you yelp. You roll over with a squelch and a groan, glaring up at him from the tile.

“Scott can’t make it today,” He tells you, waving his phone at you before setting it aside. “Weekend trip with his girlfriend. Be in tomorrow morning.”

You make a sound somewhere between a retch and a pained moan as you sit up, accepting his outstretched hand. He’s in a lime green t-shirt, of all things, and you try to focus on that other than his tight, black boxers. Bucky had been living with you for a year and a half now, but you’d both tried your best to respect each other’s space. Hell, you’d even gotten to a point where you’d started texting each other about hookups so the other housemate could, quite frankly, get lost. This was a newer development - Bucky had brought a girl home one night, and while you could tell he was evidently good in bed, that was because she was so loud.

So, two months later, you’re sure to give each other a heads up. Which you wish he would’ve done two minutes ago because holy shit-

“What?” He throws over his shoulder, as if he doesn’t know. His shirt has joined his phone on the kitchen counter. You thank every deity you can think of that his (very toned, muscular) back is to you - your face is burning, and it’s not just from the heat. He opens the doors the balcony, and you watch him dramatically sprawl over the railing. Has his ass always been that tight?

“Nothing,” you squeak, following him outside. Bucky is a sight. He’s positively obscene - it isn’t any cooler out here, and he’s damn near glistening as he squints at you. You avoid his gaze, idly fiddling with the leaves of one of your plants. “Did you um...did you get in touch with Rogers?”

‘Rogers’, as in Steve Rogers: Bucky’s best friend since diapers. He’d moved in couple months back, a decision he was most likely regretting now, because Bucky had told you the entire floor was out. He tells you now that Steve is with his girlfriend in her very cool, very half-way-across-town apartment. At this information you throw yourself over the railing beside him. It pokes into your stomach at little, but it gives you the chance to stare into the street instead of at Bucky. He’s close enough that you can smell the copious amounts of antiperspirant he’s wearing (he’d thrown a stick at you this morning to wake you up, with the news about your broken air conditioning and also the sentiment that ‘men’s deodorant is stronger’). However, he’s not close enough to touch, until he pokes you, with his hand this time. You straighten, folding your arms.

“You’re soaking through your shirt,” He tells you helpfully, and when you drop your arms you realize he’s right. In lieu of the heat wave and lack of AC, you’d only worn a thin tank top and shorts. Now, sweat causes the fabric to cling to you, and you curse as you rush inside. “You could take it off out here, sweetheart, I’m sure nobody’d complain.”

You flip him off over your shoulder; he’d always been a little bit of a flirt, but sometimes you just couldn’t take it. Your cheeks stay cherry red as you slam your bedroom door behind you. Just as you’re pulling a sports bra over your head (you had forgone one earlier), there’s a knock. It’s Bucky, because who else would come to the circle of Hell your apartment has become today. His fist is raised to knock again when you open the door, frustrated.

“What, Barnes?” You snap, instantly feeling bad for it as his face twitches into a grimace for a split second. He manages to keep it neutral, even smirking a little as he leans against your door frame.

“I was just gonna tell you I didn’t...I don’t mind.” He rubs a hand across the back of his neck, blowing out an exasperated breath at your confused look. “Your shirt-I didn’t mind...seeing.”

Oh. Oh, and as it clicks into your brain, your first instinct is he’s kidding. As always. You huff out a laugh and make to slip past him, but a hand on your wrist pushes you back. Bucky levels you with the most serious expression you’ve seen in 18 months of living together.

“Y/N, I mean it. You’re,” He laughs, but not at you. “You’re gorgeous. And smart, and funny, and you let me stay at your damn place for way longer than either of us expected, and there isn’t anybody else.”

“Any...anybody else? What about-” You’re trying to remember his fling from last month, the one that had you crashing at Wanda’s for four nights in a row one week. Bucky is adamantly shaking his head.

“No. Nobody is you.”

Again, you’re struck with that damned ‘oh’ feeling. You gape, unsure what you’re supposed to do with that revelation.

It wasn’t one sided - part of the reason you’d let Bucky move in was because of your tiny crush on him. But Bucky was your roommate, your best friend, and some line in your head made him unattainable until-

“Oh.” And this time, it is breathed out loud. Bucky connects his lips with yours, gentle at first. Instinctively, you reach for his hair, pulling it from its loose bun and tugging just a little. He kisses you hard, then, one hand on your hip practically shaking with how hard he’s gripping you. You walk when he walks, shuffling backwards blindly until your calves hit the edge of your bed. He leans away breathlessly as your back hits the mattress, braced on his forearms. His long, dark locks just barely brush your face as he hovers above you. His eyes hold something darker you’ve never seen before, and it sends lightening bolts straight to your core.

“Is this okay? Can I-fuck Y/N, I wanted to-” Bucky doesn’t get to tell you what he wanted to do, because you’re gripping his shoulders and pulling him back in. He groans, hands twisting into the comforter by your head. Restraint.

“You can touch me,” You pant between kisses along his throat. “Please, touch me, Bucky, I need...”

You can’t even finish the sentence, almost light-headed, but you don’t know if it’s the heat or the sudden all-consuming feeling of Bucky. Bucky’s hips, pressed up between your thighs. Bucky’s hands, one flitting down to cup your breast and one tangling itself in your hair. Bucky’s lips, tongue, everywhere he can dip his head. Bucky’s knee coming to press against your core as he shifts you a little further up the bed. You’re no virgin, but your body feels electric in a way it hasn’t in a long time.

His hands hesitate at the hem of your bra, so you pull it off yourself. Ever the gentleman - usually. That gentleman disappears as Bucky practically tears your shorts down your legs, looking like a damn predator as he eyes your soaked panties. You hear yourself pleading, and he shushes you, pressing open mouthed kisses just under your ear.

“Don’t worry, princess. I got you,” Bucky murmurs. And gods, does he. His mouth kisses all the way down your body, pausing only to bite lightly at each nipple. Your responding whine earns you a smug grin before he pushes your panties down your calves. You feel exposed, pushing yourself up onto your elbows, about to protest, but Bucky pushes you right back down. “Let me take care of you, sweetheart. Been thinkin’ bout this pretty pussy for so long.”

You practically cry at the words, or maybe it’s what follows them. A teasing lick, his tongue pressing flat against your folds from your entrance to your clit. Your hands scramble for purchase - one in his hair, one gripping a pillow behind you as your ankles hook behind his shoulders. The feeling of his smile sears itself into your brain before he devours you. A thick finger teases at your entrance as Bucky suckles your clit between eager lips, swirling for just a moment before he pushes in, knuckle deep. Fuck. You must say it out loud, because he pulls away to meet your gaze a little threateningly.

“You’re so sweet, baby. Could eat you all day and never get tired of it.” He whispers, sliding in a second finger to join the first. You keen, and once more you feel yourself blush. Nobody’s ever eaten you out like this, and Bucky knows it. “Feels good, doesn’t it, sweetheart? That’s what you needed?””

You squeal this time, a third finger stretching and thrusting with the others. You nod vigorously, and he keeps up that same smug smile as he circles your clit with his tongue. He keeps up a steady rhythm with his fingers, but you want, no, need more, and he knows this, too. His fingers leave you entirely, but before you can whine in complaint, you hear his boxers hit the floor. You keep your gaze trained on the ceiling, trying to calm your heart, until a hand curls around your jaw. Bucky makes you meet his gaze, pressing his forehead to yours. It’s a moment of clarity, and you feel him pulsing against your thigh, hot and needy like just about everything else in the room.

“Are you sure?” He breathes, and you whisper a yes; you don’t think it conveys just how badly you want him. He smiles again before aligning himself with your entrance, but the smile is deceiving: he slams himself home, tip nudging your cervix. Then he’s gone again, setting a much faster pace than with his fingers. You keen when his tip brushes against that spot within you, and he leans down to bite at your ear, being careful to fuck into that spot repeatedly. “Yeah, princess? Right there, is that it? That’s where you need me?”

You’re not even sure if your response is coherent, ears practically ringing with the force of your impending orgasm. Bucky slips a hand between the two of you to circle your clit with two fingers, hips never slowing. His other hand finds its way to your ass, lifting your hips just so. He swallows your gasp, and the moans that follow as he fucks you ever deeper. He kisses and nips his way along your jaw.

“C’mon, let go for me. It’s alright, honey, wanna feel you cum all over my cock.” And so you do, knot in your stomach breaking, body going limp. Bucky doesn’t stop; he goes faster, if possible, an arm under your shoulders and the other keeping a leg securely around his waist. He comes undone with a shout, pulling out just in time to spurt hot, creamy liquid all over your stomach. He has the decency to look a little guilty, but it doesn’t keep him from drawing a finger through the substance and offering it to your lips.

“Sorry,” Bucky mutters, but he is hyper-focused on you sucking his finger into your mouth. Just to tease, you keep eye contact with him, his signature smirk ever-present. “But you look so pretty covered in my cum.”

You bite playfully at his fingertip in response, earning you a sharp tug of your hair. You’re sweat-slick and boneless, but you don’t even notice the heat anymore. Bucky clambers off the bed. You hear water running, and he returns with a washcloth. The gentleman has returned as he cleans you up and then himself, tossing the cloth into the hamper. You scoot over as much as you can, and he promptly collapses beside you. It’s not the first time you’ve shared a bed, but you are suddenly very aware that Bucky is as naked as the day he was born. With his eyes closed, you take the moment to observe him.

“Creeper.” He mumbles. You make to push him further away, but he grabs your hand instead, entwining your fingers together. Bucky opens his eyes, blinking lazily at you. “I really do want to take you out, Y/N. Wanted to do this right but...saw your pretty little tits in that tank top and I couldn’t help myself.”

“Should I take that as a compliment?” You say with a snort, and he shrugs, rolling over to press a sloppy kiss to your cheek.

“Don’t care how you take it. Just as long as I get that date.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes oneshot #mine #marvel fic #smut

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mybiasisexo · 3 years

Text

What Happens in the Dark

Genre: Angst | Vampire!au

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Length: 4.6k

Warning: unfinished | 1st person (final product won't be I swear)

Summary: You were just trying to survive, but that get’s difficult after running into the wrong guys on your way home from work. Luckily, your knight in shinning armor came to rescue you, but as the saying goes ‘never trust a man in leather pants and a particularly pointy-toothed smirk’. Wait, that’s not the lyrics to Poison??? Hmm....

Author’s Note: Do any of yall remember back in October of ‘19 (yike) when I said I was going to write a vampire!bbh fic and never did?? Cause I do. But, wait, what is this??? A chaptered vampire!bbh fic??? Yes, you heard me right. I decided to turn it into a series (?) and hopefully will get my head out of my ass long enough to give it the attention it needs so I can post it during the dark holiday. For now, here’s what I have written so far, enjoy!!! (And yes, that’s the title, bb we going ✈️ kokokrazy, mmkay???)

MASTERLIST

(couldn't find the credit for the gif, if anyone knows please lmk, thanks!!)

I take a deep breath and hold it for a brief moment, deluding myself into believing that the lack of oxygen to my brain will bring me courage as I stare through the glass of the front door of my job at the book store. In the distance, the sun glows red as it dips into the horizon, dragging the light with it. It will be dark soon.

I let out the breath slowly through my mouth.

I don’t mind closing, I live close enough to my job that I can walk the few blocks to my apartment. The only time it is a problem is on the weekends. I work downtown, right next to a few night clubs, and walking past those on a Saturday—which is today—makes me anxious. It’s bad enough I am a foreigner, so I grab people’s attention easily, but add alcohol to the mix… the lack of inhibitions frightens me.

But it is time to go.

I reluctantly open the door and enter the chaos that is the city. Cars zoom past and people head to their respective destinations without a care in the world. I lock the building behind me and clutch my messenger bag closer to my stomach, playing with the frays of the strap distractedly as I make the journey to the safety of my home.

It is about a fifteen-minute walk, and any other day I wouldn’t blink twice about the trip, but as the sun continues to disappear, the city begins to spark with it’s night life.

Soon, the nightclub I have to pass appears. I hold my breath as I speed past, keeping my face forward to keep attention off of myself, but that isn’t the worst part of my journey.

I turn into the alley next to the club, my pace nearly a sprint as I try to get through the shortcut as quickly as possible, but my feet stutter to a shuffle when I notice a dark figure ahead of me.

It is around 10pm, and as much as I worry about it, I don’t expect the club to be that busy—being how early it is. I’ve made this late night trek a handful of times, I was always left anxious, but unscathed.

Something isn’t right this time.

I slow my walking, but continue nonetheless, I have to get home.

As I close in, apprehension thick in my throat, the shadow separates to reveal two bodies, long lean torsos and head’s pressed close together, deep voices quietly speaking.

My footsteps echoe in the quiet night air and they finally notice me. Stopping abruptly, and in eerie synchronization, they turn their heads from the huddle they are in to face me. They’re tall, much taller than I originally thought, although it is difficult to see with the dim lighting. They stand on the opposite side of a light post. They are dressed well, which I expect if they are party goers. But, it is obvious that the dark jeans, silky button downs, and gold rings and chains wrapped around their necks cost a pretty penny. Their dark hair is styled to perfection, the separate styles fitting their face shapes.

Why are two men that are definitely out to be seen huddled in a dark alley?

“Uh….” I grow nervous as the silence stretches. Their piercing eyes leave me frozen in place and I am overwhelmed with the feeling something is askew or that coming down this particular alley was a mistake. I quickly rack my brain for something to say so that I can be on my way, but am left blank.

I gulp despite my dry throat and open my mouth to say…anything, really, but then the two share a look before hovering over me, pressing me against the cool red brick of the outside of the club.

“What did you hear?” One of them, who has wide eyes and short black hair that is gelled back to reveal the manly features of his face, snarls.

“No—nothing!” I am quick to assure.

The other, who’s hair is longer and framing his face, tilts his head. “Her heart is racing. Are you nervous, Kitten?”

I am. There is something about their energy that fills me with dread, makes me want to scurry away without a further glance back and go home immediately.

“Come on,” the former, who’s voice I feel in the pit of my gut with how deep it is, coaxes alluringly. My eyelids flutter and my balance is off, feeling lightheaded all of a sudden. “Tell us what you heard and I promise, we won’t hurt you.”

“I already told you,” I push, finding words difficult to punctuate. It is as though I am fighting a deep sleep, eyes practically closed as I put all of my weight against the wall to hold myself up at this point. “I didn’t…hear…anything.”

One of them snarls—my eyes are sealed shut, so I am not sure which it was—and a shockingly cold hand grips my chin. I gasp, eyes springing open from the shock of pain as his dull nails dug into my skin.

“We didn’t want to do this,” the first talker, who is the one currently holding me, growls, not seeming particularly remorseful in the slightest. His huge eyes are blown out and I am captured by the frightening depths of his pupils. They are bottomless and it feels like I am on the edge about to slip into a never-ending fall.

“Chanyeol, stop.” A new third party urges monotonously. I didn’t hear him enter, but I am kind of distracted at the moment, trying not to think about the fact I might be murdered in an alley.

The Chanyeol fellow smirks crookedly, eyes never leaving mine as he speaks. It’s unnerving. The man doesn’t even blink as he holds my gaze. “She overheard everything.”

“No, she didn’t. You’re just hungry.”

The guy beside Chanyeol sighs as if bored, folding his arms across his chest and flicking some of the bang away from his eyes. “And so what if we are?”

The third man barks a laugh. “Well, you’re wanted inside, Sehun. Both of you. You can conspire in there.”

“We’re almost done here,” Chanyeol replies, distractedly. His grip on me has loosened some, but not enough for me to try and break out and make a run for it. Instead of his nails digging into me, he is now caressing the corner of my lip with his thumb. “We’ll meet you inside.”

I have a sinking feeling I’m not going to see the inside of that club anytime soon.

The newcomer joins our little party, finally coming into my eye line. He is about a head and a half shorter than the twin towers before me, but holds just as much, if not more, authority in his broad shoulders. He’s dressed similarly to the other two, but his eyes are an approachable chocolate brown, instead of the inhuman glittery black I’ve been trapped by.

“I bet you have places to be.” He addresses me, voice soothing and calm.

I nod frantically, wanting to be out of this situation.

“Let’s go.”

He reaches out to me, probably for me to hold on to, but Sehun swipes his hand away before he can fully stretch it out to me. “She’s ours.”

The shorter guy’s jaw jumps irritably. He definitely isn’t happy about being touched. “She is not.”

With that, he lurches forward, getting into a fight with Sehun. It happens so quickly, I nearly get whiplash from the drastic change of the man. Their moves are fast, I can’t keep up with what is going on, it is as if they are a blur.

Chanyeol uses the distraction to tilt my head back, making me stare at the indigo sky, twinkling lights beckoning me to join them.

“I’ll be quick,” he assures, voice raspy with want and low from focus. He closes in, lips a whisper against my sweaty neck and I wonder if he is going to kiss me. Wonder what torture I am going to endure.

I never find out.

He curses as he is yanked away and I shift my head back down to see what is happening, but can’t comprehend anything. Shadows moving against darkness and animalistic growls and snarls, things that didn’t belong in this setting.

A flash of white is in front of me and I scream. It can’t be helped. My heart races, adrenaline kicking in as the whole situation finally dawns on me.

“You’re okay.” Someone bends down to crouch in front of me—I guess I slid down to the ground at some point—and brings their face closer, into the spotlight of the full moon high above us, revealing his dainty features.

It is the third man that had stepped in.

“You’re safe now,” he assures.

“Those… those men.” My voice is shaking and I have to pause to swallow and steady myself. In fact, my whole body is shivering and it isn’t from the cold.

“They’re gone.” His voice is grounding, his words relieving. I let out a breath and press my lips together, feeling a tad nauseous. I check the narrow alley to confirm that they have indeed vanished into the night.

“You saved me.” I realize, taking him in with wide eyes.

The right side of his mouth lifts and he tilts his head to the side. “Would you like to go home?”

“Please,” I nearly beg, wanting that most of all. I feel exposed for some reason, feel as though I am still in danger as long as I am outside. What if those strange men decide to come back? I shiver at the thought.

“Cold?” He questions. His almond shaped eyes take in my curled body, his eyebrows furrowing in a pout. “Do you have a coat?”

“I didn’t need one,” I say with a small shrug. “I was supposed to be home by now.”

His expression is fixed on disapproval. “I left mine inside. I’ll run in and get it real quick and then walk you home.”

He goes to stand and I panic, my arms shoot out to latch onto his arm, trapping him in an awkward squat. “Don’t leave me out here!”

“Alright.” He pats one of my hands that dig into the thin material of his shirt, most likely leaving crescent marks into his flesh, although he doesn’t seem to be in any discomfort or pain. “We can go in together. Does that work for you?”

“Are they in there?” I ask in a whisper.

He shakes his head. “Even if they are, they won’t do anything as long as I’m with you. I’m sure of it.”

I take in his angelic face. He really is beautiful in a sweet boyish kind of way and I wonder briefly how old he is. It is almost comical, because he’s definitely going for the whole ‘bad boy’ look, what with his leather black pants, rose red button down, and smokey eye. Despite that, I truly feel safe with him there, feel that he will be my white knight and get me home unharmed.

“Okay. I’ll go with you then, Sir.”

“’Sir’?” Now he smiles, full pink lips stretch into a shape of a box revealing the loveliest set of teeth I have ever seen. A soft breeze hits at that moment, tousling the already messy, slightly curled, dark brown hair around his head and, despite myself, my breath catches. He chuckles lowly, the sound causing saliva to flood my mouth. “My name is Baekhyun. What’s yours?”

I waste no time telling him, needing him to know who I am.

He repeats it, making sure he gets it right and I want to curse my hormones for being so affected when my life was on the line only a few minutes ago.

“Well,” he takes one of my hands that still holds onto him into one of his, causing me to shiver from the crisp velvety texture of his skin on mine. “Let’s get you home.”

We slip into the club without any trouble, the security doesn’t even card me. It is as if, just being in Baekhyun’s presence allows me an in. I gaze at him in awe as we maneuver through the slightly crowded entrance towards coat check, but he doesn’t notice—either that, or he is pretending not to. He leans against the square glassless window, broad back exposed to the rest of the club, waiting calmly for his jacket. I lean against the wall, taking in everything I can through the haze and saturated lights, making sure I am clear from the other men I had the displeasure of meeting.

“Ready?” Baekhyun asks, drawing me out of my search and I find my body untensing with his close presence. I bring my attention up to him, his head is cocked slightly, an eyebrow raised in a question. I nod in affirmation and take the lead, with my back to him, I feel the pressure of a sturdy jean coat around my shoulders. Glancing down, I take in the rough black material and smile to myself as I slip my arms through the sleeves, peeking behind me once quickly to see him studying me like a hawk, eyes sharp and a pleased grin on his lips, so small I can barely make it out, and I wonder if he’s even aware of the action. When I face in front of myself again to watch where I am going (and to hide my reddening cheeks from him) I feel a private grin so happen to pull at my features and I wrap the massive jacket closer to myself, inhaling what must be Baekhyun’s scent.

It’s an indescribable smell. It’s luxurious and soft, yet also grungy, like the scent of a new car mixed with a bouquet of Jasmine and gasoline.

It’s intoxicating.

We finally make it out of the stuffy building and I don’t hesitate to turn left, leading us down the familiar path to my place. Once there is room, Baekhyun lazily falls in line beside me, matching my pace so closely, his arm brushes against mine every other step. We get to the alley immediately, since it’s beside the building we were just in, and my footing falters, causing me to trip.

Arms are around me in an instant, not allowing me to move forward, let alone to the ground and the momentum drags me to a hard chest. I huff, the air is knocked out of my lungs and everything stops for a few seconds.

Finally, I remember how to breathe and lift my head to see Baekhyun’s mere inches above mine, eyes wide from surprise and slight fear.

“Are you alright?” He breathes, startled.

The urge to laugh at his expression is strong, but I swallow it once I remember where I am. Clearing my throat soberly, I realize I am practically splayed over him. I tap the shoulder my hand is resting on awkwardly and he finally realizes the situation as well. I feel one of the arms he has around my waist tighten briefly, pulling me even closer, but just as quickly, he is pulling back apologetically.

“I’m fine,” I finally am able to muster. I laugh drily, rubbing my face. “Still not over the memories….”

Baekhyun bit his lip worryingly. “They really frightened you, huh?”

I let out another breathless laugh. “I’ve honestly never been more terrified in my life.”

My voice shakes and all I can think of is the Chanyeol fellow’s depthless eyes. “Something about them was just so…inhuman….”

“Those guys,” Baekhyun’s voice cuts through my horror flashbacks, closer than I remember, startling me. He tries to steady me with slender fingers on my bent elbow, but keeps it there even after I’m still. “They were just hungry.”

“Hungry?” I question. He is now using the hand on my arm to lead me through the dark trail.

“Yeah, they…. They get a bit cranky when they haven’t fed in a while.”

I scoff. “’Fed’? What is this? A Snicker’s ad?”

He chuckles at that, but you press on. “You sound like you’re on pretty friendly terms with those guys.”

He winces at that. We’ve cleared the alley at this point, so he drops his hand, losing contact with me, much to my disappointment. I’m back to leading, so I continue down the familiar streetlamp lit sidewalks.

“I mean….” He scratches the back of his head. “We’re… familiar. I wouldn’t go as far as calling them friends, by any means.”

“What do you mean by that?” I ask, genuinely curious as to his connection with those psychopaths.

He purses his lips as he stares ahead unseeingly, thinking about the right way to explain himself. “What I mean is… we share the same circle. Some of the guys… they’re rowdier than the rest. They have a few loose screws, I’ll be the first to tell you, but they’re a part of the group.”

I lift an eyebrow at that. “So…. You all just let them run around and act crazy without any repercussions?”

“That’s…not what I said,” he’s quick to defend, lifting a finger in a scolding way. “I kicked their asses for you did I not?”

“You did that for me?” I ask, not able to resist the urge to bat my eyelashes up at him. I’m not going to lie to myself, I like the idea of him fighting for me.

“I did. Because I knew they were up to no good. You’re welcome, by the way.”

I roll my eyes, but bump my shoulder with his in thanks.

“But, even though I think I already know the answer, I have to ask.” He’s grown nervous. “Did…did you hear anything they were talking about?”

I shake my head and shrug. “Not a word. I could hear voices, but they were talking too quietly for me to understand any of it.”

He lets out a breath he must’ve been holding in relief.

“What? Was it that bad?”

He smiles, his beautiful teeth on display. “No! No, no.”

“Are you sure?” I press, teasingly.

He throws me a look that causes me to laugh.

“Enough about them,” he dismisses and I laugh harder. He goes ahead of me, spinning around so that he’s walking backwards, giving me his undivided attention. “I want to know more about you.”

“Like what?” I ask, instantly flustered. Under the moon, the smooth bit of skin of his neck and chest shine pale, the contrast with his dark eyes and long lashes something to behold. Does he know how incredibly attractive he is? Well, if his fashion and confidence is any indicator, he surely did, and used it to his benefit.

“Like why you were in the alley in the first place? I’ve never seen you at the club before, and trust me, I would remember.”

The comment flusters me more and it takes me a moment to remember how to speak. “I… I work nearby. The alley is my shortcut home.”

“I’m pretty familiar with the area.” He hums. “Where do you work?”

“At the used book store down the road.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I wonder if I should be telling this man such personal information. Yeah, he may be hot, but he’s still a stranger, whether he saved me or not, I didn’t know him enough to trust him with the information. Yet, what was done was done.

“Ooooh, so you’re a nerd?” He teases and I roll my eyes.

“I guess you could say that, Baekhyun.”

“I think it’s cute! I was never much of a reader….”

“Well, if you need any recommendations, I’m your girl.”

He grins and I think he may have liked that statement a little too much.

“I’ll have to visit you soon then, to get those recommendations.” His voice has lowered, deepened, coming from within his chest and my mouth utterly dries.

“M—maybe you should,” I stutter and then stop abruptly as I finally take in our surroundings. “Shit.”

“What?” He’s shocked again and I guess it’s because I swore. Maybe he finds it unbecoming of me.

“I…. We passed my place.”

His lips form into a thin line as he presses them tightly together—holding in a laugh, no doubt. I ignore him as I swiftly double back the half block to my apartment. “This is me.”

He takes in the brightly dimmed complex. “Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you in?”

I nod. “I appreciate all you’ve done for me tonight, but I think I can take it from here.”

“Ah….” He slides his hands in his pockets and finally meets my gaze, disappointment visible on his face. “Well then, I guess my work here is done.”

“I guess so.”

“It was nice meeting you,” he says my name and shallowly dips his head, although we both seem rather hesitant to move.

“Nice meeting you, too, Baekhyun. Thank you again, for saving me.”

“Anytime.” He grins boyishly and I can’t help but stare at his mouth, at his perfect teeth.

An awkward silence follows and needing to break it, but also not necessarily wanting to, I began making my way towards the door to my building. “Good night.”

“Goodnight.” His farewell is a mere breath, he watches me, eerily still as I slowly retreat, walking backwards as he had earlier. My back roughly hits the face of the door and he chuckles at my silly antics, shaking his head.

I embarrassingly try to save my ass, but I’m just speaking gibberish, barely making sense as I succumb to my mortification and slid through the mint green door, into the familiar lightly dimmed foyer, leaving Baekhyun on the sidewalk.

I get into my apartment, my roommate/best friend already retired to bed. I stand in front of her closed bedroom door, wondering if I should wake her because I just need to tell someone about what happened to me, but thought better of it, showered and got ready for bed.

Once in the protection of my blankets, the nights events replay in my mind. I find myself tossing and turning as those men keep swirling around my head, threatening me over and over again as I wonder what they thought I overhead was and what Chanyeol had planned to do to me if Baekhyun hadn’t intervened.

Baekhyun….

Despite myself, I find solace in his presence. I have never felt so instantly attracted to someone before and I regret not getting his number or asking him to come in, but I’m just not that kind of girl. Even though he is nothing but nice, there is a chance he could’ve taken my invitation the wrong way.

Or, maybe we would’ve just learned more about each other and started a blossoming friendship.

Well, no use dwelling on the past. I sink deeper into my blankets and finally fall asleep with the reassuring thought that if it is meant to be, then it will be. Plus, I know at least one place I can find him if I really want to.

I sleep rather well that night.

~*~

The next week flies by uneventfully. I’m busy enough that the thought of Baekhyun doesn’t come to mind until I find myself face to face with him inside my store.

He’s gazing down at me, eyes wide and alight with humor. Actually, the humor coats his face, lifting the corners of his red lips and wrinkling his nose.

Under the cool yellow of the lights ahead, he appears warmer, but still paler than one should be in the summer. Again he’s draped in tight black skinny jeans that wrap around his delicious thighs, rips at the knees and sporadically on said thighs. Tucked into the belt is an expensive looking silky button up shirt with random patterns of blacks, maroons, and golds. The top two buttons unfastened to give a glimpse of his firm chest—just enough to leave you wanting more. Between the V of the opening sat a ruby, hung from a bronze chain. It appears to be the only piece of jewelry he has on. His hair is parted on the side, thrown messily aside, exposing his round eyebrows and blemish-less forehead.

He looks wildly handsome.

Handsome enough to garner the attention of the few bit of customers wandering the store.

I blink up at him. He seems so out of place here, amongst the old tender pages of discarded books. He belongs within the walls of clubs, with beautiful women draped all over him, wine in hand, the world at his feet.

Godly.

That is the vibe he gives off. As if he were of a different species.

“Are you that shocked to see me?” He finally utters, head tilting to the side. “You haven’t said a word and have been staring for the past minute.”

“It hasn’t been a minute,” I finally mumble, taking my eyes off his glorious face and down to the counter that only holds my hands.

He chuckles lowly. “Well, it diffenitly was longer than deemed friendly.”

“What are you doing here?” I say. “You don’t have any books.”

“It’s Friday.”

He shrugs at my confused expression. “I know you walk home and decided that I could protect you from all the scary men out there during the busy night. I wasn’t sure if you closed tonight, but decided to check since I was in the neighborhood.”

I have to swallow all the fluttery gushing things that form in my mind at his words. He’s worried about my safety? Concerned enough to check on me and make sure I am protected? His words definitely have my heart fluttering.

“That’s… very nice of you,” I’m able to get out eventually, bringing out a large pleased smile from him. “I actually do close today, so thank you.”

“When are you off?” He asks.

I check the time. “Ten. We still have about two hours left.”

“I don’t mind,” he says, answering my unasked question. “I faintly recall you informing me of some recommendations. It looks like I have the time to get those.”

I take his outfit in. “But you’re dressed for an event. I don’t want to take that from you.”

“These?” He motions at his body before scoffing. “I always dress like this. No special occasion, other than walking you home, of course.”

“Of course,” I repeat, again trying not to get too giddy over the idea he wants to impress me. “Well, my favorite book that’s in right now is a classic, Interview With the Vampire by Anne Rice.”

“Ah….” He get’s a far away look for a moment. “I’m quite familiar with that story.”

“Oh, you are?” I am both disappointed and intrigued. “Didn’t take you much for a reader.”

That brings him back to Earth and he glares at me. “I’ll have you know that I haven’t, in fact, read the book, although I still do take offense with your idea of my intelligence. Are your books sorted alphabetically by name or author?”

“Author.” I inform. “But also by genre. Have fun.”

He throws a thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll just be over here if you need anything.” With that he turns on the heels of his fancy dress shoes, clacking down the hardwood flooring as if it was a runway in Milan and I watch his shoulder blades through the loose silky shirt, swallowing the saliva that has built in my mouth.

I catch the eye of a few girls hidden around aisles, catch both glares and curiosity and sink a bit lower into the counter.

The next two hours are both the slowest yet the quickest two hours of my life. I can feel baekhyun’s gaze on me heavily the majority of the shift. Especially when I am out on the floor helping a customer or restocking. It’s fun. Baekhyun sits at one of the side tables that has a decent view of the counter and some aisles and whenever I lift my head and accidentally get drawn to his dark and playful eyes, peeking over whatever book he has open, I feel myself get shy and have to quickly glance away, face red and hot.

Finally when I am officially ready to go, I head over to where he is lounging, one of his ankles rests lazily against his thigh as he scans the pages.

I readjust the strap of my purse as I wait for him to acknowledge me, cause I know he knows I’m hovering, but he ignores me, too entranced in the story.

Finally I clear my throat. “I’m done—“

The bastard shushes me.

My mouth drops as his eyebrows knit. “This is a good part.”

“That’s a picture book!” I scoff.

That draws him out of his act and he grins up at me before making a show of slowly closing the book and sighing heavy as he stands up and leans in close. “Shall we?”

I blink a few times, catching my bearings. He/s going to step ahead of me but pauses pointing at my chest. “Is that my jacket?”

If I wasn’t red before....

Yes I have been wearing Baekhyuns jacket everyday since that fateful night. It still smells strongly of him and is the only proof I have that that night actually happened.

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