#weed why the fuck would u expect me to take care of you u were with 6 other people and last year someone babied her when she was high

[myriadof-fandoms]

mimi watches the final

i'm literally gonna throw up

i don't wanna see eddie die but i know i will and i fucking hate everything okay he just wanted to graduate

hoppers back :((((

are they gonna fuck. are jopper gonna fuck. they should fuck. they deserve it.

joyce: romance me

hopper: FOOD

oh god they're flirting i'm gonns cry

chianti 😭😭😭

PLEASE FUCK FOR THE LOVE OF GOD THANK YOU WE GOT A KISS PEOPLE

steve landing in the upside down was hot thank you for your time

yes robin i would applaud for hottest landing in the upside down thank u

GET THE FUCKING STANCY OUT OF MY FACE

steve and eddie teamwork helping robin up good soup

omg dusty debut in the upside down

STOP WITH THE NOT HERO BULLSHIT OH GOD I HATE FORESHADOWING

make him pay 😭

i am so bisexual. walk walk fashion baby. all of you three please break my back like a glowstick

i was not prepared for more billy flashbacks you fuckers

argyle <3

kate bush my beloved

NOT THE FUCKING HICK I SWEAR TO GOD

lolololol the murder house nice ahs reference

tom wlaschiha you hot shit i love u

who said this'll do. this'll do just fine. OH STEVE IN S2

where is my surfer boy. i want him back.

they just paid him in weed. canon stranger things plot is a guy being paid in weed.

everyone: preparing for battle

argyle: pizza time

THE MOST METAL CONCERT BRO YEAH LETS GO

"she was made for an alternative dimension"

robin my beloved

STEVE CRAWLED BACKWARDS LOL HE IS ALMOST AS STUPID AS BABY ME I WAS JUST LAZY BUT OH MY GOD

bro you were fine in s1 idk what y'all are on about

(i'm sorry to all stancy shippers you're fine i'm just upset about how this makes no sense in canon)

NO SHE IS IN LOVE WITH JONATHAN YOU WERE NEVER THE PROBLEM STEVE

god fucking damn it i don't want to see this STEVE! WAS! OVER! THIS! i don't fucking care for stancy oh my fucking god

THANK GOD FOR ROBIN BUT MY GOOD GIRL COME EARLIER NEXT TIME I JUST THREW UP IN MY MOUTH

also ich weiß ja nich wie gut er das jetz wirklich macht auf ner skala von 1-10 aber das klingt nach gutem russisch muss ich ihm schon lassen

hi. :) i'm gonna cry

REALLY ANOTHER DATE THAT WON'T HAPPRN ARE YOU SHITTING ME THE DRAWING OH MY GOD

here comes the will and jonathan talk. i just love will so much. he's so soft. just. soft voice. and idc about jonathan otherwise but THAT'S THE BEST BROTHER EVER. and he knows he fucking knows.

bro that was hands down one of the best not even actually coming out- coming out scenes. that's. yeah. jonathan but he's more of a dad to will than lonny ever was.i just love people being accepted for who they are okay i gotta AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

oh jesus christ i dont want max to get more hurt. NO FUCKING HER BROTHER OH NO BRO ARE YOU SHITTING ME THEY ARE NOT SERIOUSLY

this is not the billy content i wanted

my good dudes. did the duffers not watch their own show. bc yes all of this makes a lot of sense. if the relationship of billy and max had still been portrayed as bad as in s2 in s3 but okay.

OH VECNA HAS SHOWN UP OH DAMN HE PLAYS THAT SO GOOD DAMN CALEB

OH THAT'S THE WEIRD SCENE FROM THE TRAILER IT'S A SKATERPARK OH MY GOD

CHRISSY THIS IS FOR YOU

MASTER OF PUPPETS OKAY IT'S METALLICA I CAN LIVE WITH THIS ACTUALLY THIS FUCKING SLAPS

this dude did not touch erica now did he

stop jumpscaring me with billy thank you

oh well you're all fucked.. i still don't care about the russia plot

daddy sorry daddy sorry

MAX WAS ALWAYS A BADASS

oh no max looks so sad at the snowball being ruined 🥺

HOW DARE HE TOUCH A LITTLE KID ERICA IS ELEVEN TAKE YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF OF HER

let me at jason. just let me. he won't even expect it. i'm kinda tiny. he won't expect much. and then he'll have 22 years of anger issues that fights dirty on his hands.

YEAH HOPPER YOU BETTER GET BACK TO ELEVEN

ANOTHER KISS WE HAD ANOTHER JOPPER KISS

hey how is this happening at the same time. what the time difference between wherever they are in russia and hawkins. why is it nighttime everywhere.

do i have a combat boots kink. maybe. more at seven.

steve really do be getting choked a lot.

demodog!

"i'm buying more time" you're being an idiot is what you're doing

oh vecna knows well that's. interesting. and now eleven is the surprise

i like max's outfit

BRO ONE MORE WRONG WORD

NORMAL'S JUST A RAGING PSYCHOPATH

I WILL KILL JASON WITH MY FUCKING BARE HANDS THE LAST TIME I FELT RAGE OF THIS SCALE PETER HAD JUST GIVEN THANOS THE CHANCE TO WIN

MUCH BRAVER THAN YOUR BROTHER COME AT ME BRO I WILL END YOU FOR THIS ONE

oh dusty no

bro why did no one tell eddie that running away from danger is a normal response IT'S CALLED FIGHT OR FLIGHT AND FLIGHT IS OKAY

actually i'm just not watching this. eddie will be fine. just like billy is. they are dating steve. and bob is alive too he's dating joyce and hopper. wanna hear about murray and alexei.

elmax <33333

damn jamie spent a lot of time in that costume huh

how is max unconscious.. in her own mind..

"he did not make me into this. you did." insert the got me there meme

BABY DEMOGORGON I REPEAT A BABY DEMOGORGON EM IF YOU'RE READING THIS WE GOT A NEW IF EVIL WHY BABY

god the costume department >>>>

so he made the mindflayer. yeah. okay good that's what it seemed like.

STOP JUMPSCARING ME WITH BILLY

i will end them for misusing my boy's lines like this

damn the byler fandom is gonna have a shitty time. they really did you dirty and i feel very sorry. also my baby boy will is suffering but i expected as much so

god yes lucas punch him from me

yep yep yep eddie is fine as long as i don't look

murray my hero. it wasn't divine intervention it was murray.

sure we shooting machine guns with one arm now. totally not gonna backfire.

"the beginning of the end." stranger things really is in its infinity war era

DO YOU WANT TO FEEL HOW IT FEELS

not to be horny on main but maya hawke's hands

jfc nancy with a shotgun. i'm normal about this

oh god the sound and effects. the sword. the fire. i can't.

do i just skip the next scene. i really don't want to see eddie die.

bro. my good dudes. there was no need to kill this metalhead too. NO NO NO NO NOT THE MY YEAR

I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU TOO WELL EYE LOVE YOU THREE AND THIS FUCKING SUCKS WHY ALWAYS STEVE'S BOYFRIENDS WHY THE ONE CHARACTER THAT ACTUALLY HAD A DREAM THIS FUCKING SEASON

.. you know what. yeah okay killing the one character with a future makes sense bc it's more heartbreaking BUT YOU CAN STILL SUCK MY DICK

I HATE THIS GODDAMN SHOW

THEY FUCKING BLINDED MAX?

NOT THE I'M NOT READY ARE YOU SHITTING ME NO NO NO WHY MY BABIES WHY BILLY AND EDDIE AND MAX LIKE IS THIS A CONSPIRACY AGAINSY ME ARE YOU SHITTING ME

all the awards to caleb

HEHEHEHE JASON IS DEAD ngl that did bring me great satisfaction sorry i know he was a kid too but he did start a witchhunt for eddie and people still act like billy was the problem

THAT'S THE HOLLY AND KAREN SCENE

BRING MY GIRL BACK NOW

YEAH SHE BETTER NOT BE GOING FUCKING HELL

elmax elmax elmax elmax elmax elmax

there's more to life than stupid boys yes there is and not only because mine are all dead

oh damn the people are running huh

JESUS FUCKING CHRIST OKAY

NO FUCKING HELL DON'T BLAME EDDIE NO NONONONONONNONONONONONO HE WAS A HERO

why is anybody smiling

okay steve lives at least i was right about that

why is karen so shocked oh i guess her son okay yeah makes sense

ALRIGHT SEE JONATHAN PICKING NANCY UP IS WHY I WILL ALSO NOT ACCEPT STANCY ALRIGHT

karen wheeler is a good mum sorry

the picture they put the picture up he is reading stephen king to her oh my god that's love

i wanted billy in a hospital not max

i'm gonna throw up

okay at least we can still count on steve harrington and his jeans

they volunteer. babies.

okay you know what i too would have a crush on vickie. and i have a crush on robin. where do i sign up i just AHH I GOTTA GAY

oh jfc they need to date WAS WAS WAS BOYFRIEND AND SHE RAMBLES and fast times it's boobies i need to lay down. this is so cute this is so gay i need to lay down. they are flirting

i am steve steve is me

not wayne oh god not the poster i can't not this sweetheart dustin i just no

[mr munson weeps] yeah so am i

how will i ever move on

alright maybe the el and hopper reunion can fix me

imagine being argyle. like you befriend this dude. and then you end up in this hellhole of a town.

no fucking hell. they're really gonna go stancy. after all. i can't. this is not seriously gonna happen

of course will can feel him HE WAS VECNA'D

HOPPER??? JOYCE CAR PLEASE

oh god it's the coke bottle

I NEED EL AND HER DAD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD HEY KID HE'S SMILING I KEPT THE DOOR OPEN THREE INCHES ARE YOU SHITTING ME I KINDA STOLE YOIR LOOK BITCHIN I CAN'T

MAMA BEAR JOYCE

i never thought i'd be be happy to see mike with hopper

NECK TOUCH WE GOT A NECK TOUCH WITH MUSIC

THE PARTICALS

yep hawkins is fucked

i think henry might be a little pissed off

i fucking said it ends with the gates

alright.. so everyone acted as if we lost half the cast.. and sure this ending is. something. but bro don't scare me like this for nothing

[collecting-stories]

Jolly Rancher - JJ Maybank

Request: Hey! Do you think you could do an imagine where the reader is Sarah’s twin and all the pogues are at a party or on the boat and her blood sugar drops really low (she has type one diabetes) and her pump keeps beeping. She is mid passing out, not feeling good and rafe has her Insulin so little bit of big brother rafe worried about his little sister and JJ and her not being together yet but he was super worried about her (like all of the pogues tbh). Thanks xxxx I really love your writing 🥺 every time you post something it makes my day

A/N: I did moderate research for this because the only person I actually know with diabetes is a cousin I don’t speak to. 

Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

In hindsight, taking the Druthers out in the bay for a party after sunset wasn’t exactly the best idea you and Sarah had ever come up with. And yeah, technically, taking the boat out would have been totally fine and acceptable but none of you had considered bringing anything but alcohol with you. Six pogues (two honorary) on a yacht in the middle of the bay with just alcohol and weed. It was a bad combination in any version of the world but especially in this one, where you’d been pregaming white claw because you were finally, finally, gonna tell JJ how you felt about him.

The crush had been a saga ongoing since you had first discovered JJ Maybank, which coincided with discovering that boys, while terrible, were incredibly attractive. And sometimes...not too terrible. John B had started working for your family the summer before highschool and at the same time JJ started to pop up. Around the Druthers when John B was cleaning the boat, in a neighbor’s yard mowing the grass or cleaning the pool. And then at the Island Club. By then you’d started hanging out with Kiara and her friends and JJ wasn’t just some cute guy who was friends with John B.  

“Honey,” Kiara laughed, reaching for the can of Naturdays in your hand, “I think you need to slow down.”  

“I’m fine.” You promised, knee jerking rapidly as you gulped the rest of the drink down before Kiara could take it from you.  

You weren’t a heavy drinker. The last time you’d gotten drunk was in ninth grade, at a house party on the cut with Kiara. You’d guzzled down one too many Pabst trying to act cool in front of JJ and had ended up in the hospital in diabetic shock. Once everyone was sure you weren’t going to die, your father had laid into you about how irresponsible you were and how you had acted like a child. It was embarrassing, mostly because you were still saddled to a hospital bed and your friends were standing in the hallway, well within ear shot of Ward.  

After that, you stayed away from anything more than two drinks at a party and you always kept your insulin with you. Except, apparently, for tonight. You’d gotten yourself worked up over confessing your feelings to JJ and the possibility of rejection that you were well on the way to drunk. And your insulin was in your backpack, in Rafe’s truck.  

“You’re not fine.” Kiara laughed, “you’re like, buzzing.”

“Buzzing,” you offered her a dopey smile as you leaned forward, whirling your pointer finger around as you made buzzing noises and tried to poke her.  

“What the hell?” She swatted your hand away, “are you sure you’re okay?”

The commotion was enough to get Sarah’s attention and she turned away from John B to look over at the two of you. “You’re like vibrating babe,” Sarah said, “you’re really jittery.”

“Fine, I’m fine...I’m all good.” You promised, bracing your hand on Sarah’s shoulder as you went to stand up. You missed your footing, tripping over the air and hitting the deck before either Kiara or Sarah could catch you.  

“Oh my god!” Kiara got down on her knees next to you and helped you sit up, leaning partially against her. She pushed your shirt up so that she could check your pump and noticed realized it had been going off. “Hey, do you have like...something to boost her blood sugar? I think it’s dropping really low, I can’t really read this?”

“It’s definitely low.” You replied, hands shaking as you checked your pump, “yeah...too much...too much alcohol.”

“Where’s your insulin?” Sarah asked, crouching down so she could try to meet your eyes, “hey, look at me, where’s your insulin?”  

You hummed, a little too long before finally looking at Sarah, “uh, Rafe’s...shit, Rafe’s truck.”

“Are you kidding me? Fuck!” Sarah cursed, getting up to grab her phone so she could call him, “John B, can you take us back?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he nodded, heading for the ladder.  

“Here!” JJ pushed through Pope and Kiara, spilling the contents of his backpack onto the deck beside you. Amongst a change of clothes, some pilfered pens, his wallet, house keys, weed, a stick of deodorant, and a travel toothbrush, was a bag of jolly ranchers. He grabbed a green one out and unwrapped it, holding it out to you, “here, it’ll make you feel better.”

“You have a bag of jolly ranchers in your backpack?” Kiara asked incredulously.

“Of course,” JJ replied, “if her sugar drops she said one jolly rancher usually does the trick.”  

It was a stupid thing to smile about, especially since you were currently using Kiara to hold yourself up and sucking on green apple jolly rancher, but you couldn’t help it. You had mentioned that ages ago, the first time you went out with the pogues after your drunken night turned ER visit, as you sat on the dock next to JJ. You had doubted he’d even cared and been embarrassed afterward for just rambling on about yourself but he remembered.

“You remembered,” you said as JJ sat beside you, letting you lean on his shoulder as the yacht headed back to the dock.  

Sarah had gotten a hold of Rafe quicker than she expected. He was already talking when he answered the phone, telling her that he was on the way back from Topper’s. According to Rafe he turned his truck immediately, that was what he told you later, when you were feeling more like yourself again. That he’d realized your backpack was still sitting on the passenger seat and he did a u-turn right there in the middle of the street. You weren’t sure that was totally true, your older brother’s pension for dramatics and your family’s obsession with treating you like a baby.  

Usually, it felt stifling but right now you were feeling pretty shitty about yourself. The jolly rancher did exactly what it was supposed to, boosting your blood sugar enough that you were beginning to feel better.  

“What were thinking?” Rafe called the minute he boarded the Druthers, “you know alcohol makes your blood sugar drop!”

“I know, I know!” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. You’d moved from the floor to the couch, JJ leaving your side the minute your brother ran up the jetty. “I’m not a kid Rafe,” you muttered, grabbing your backpack from him.

“Really? Cause you left your bag in my truck and you’re out here drinking your ass off.” He snapped.  

“She’s okay,” Sarah urged.

“What if she wasn’t?”

“I am! And I’m right here!” You huffed, “Rafe, thank you and I know you were worried but I’m okay.”  

Rafe sighed, running a hand through his hair, “I’m not trying to be dad here...but you can’t take risks like that, you know better.”  

“I’m fine!” You slung your backpack over your shoulder and pushed passed Rafe, climbing down the ladder to the jetty. You’d apologize later, for now you were irritable and embarrassed and you just wanted to be back in your room, locked in where no one could see you and remind you how horrible this entire night was. The only decent thing that had happened was JJ but the more you let yourself psychoanalyze everything that happened the more you were positive that the pogues just saw you as a kid too. Like you couldn’t take care of yourself. Like you hadn’t been for the last ten years, since you were diagnosed.  

The Druthers said docked but you couldn’t tell from your bedroom window if everyone had gone home or if they were still hanging out and partying. You thought about texting Sarah but she would just tell you to come back down to the dock and stop pouting in your bedroom. You did your usual checks, to make sure your blood sugar had gone back up, and changed into comfier clothes. Even scrubbing off your makeup...you’d let this shitty feeling die before you saw anyone again.  

Or at least, that was the plan. As you were sitting in bed though, a knock at your window startled you. Not just a tap but a full-on knock. You climbed out of bed and went to the window, laughing when you saw JJ standing on the small balcony off your room.  

“What are you doing here?” You mouthed, reaching for the lock so you could open the window.

He pointed to his ear and then shrugged his shoulders, “I can’t hear you.”

You rolled your eyes as you pushed the window open and sat on the sill, “What are you doing here JJ?” You were trying your best to calm your racing heart, the last thing you needed was to go into cardiac arrest in front of him too.

“You left the party.”

“Not exactly in a partying mood...I was being stupid tonight.”

He sat down on the windowsill beside you, facing out toward the backyard but turning to look at you, “hey, I’m stupid every night.”

“You know what I mean,” you laughed, “I’m so careful...I haven’t had a night that bad in a long time.”

“Why weren’t you? Careful, tonight, I mean.” He asked.  

“It’s stupid.” You put your hands on your knees and looked away from him. You’d hyped yourself up to crashing lows and now he wanted you to tell him why? “You should go back to the party.”

“Not really in the mood...can you believe it?” He laughed like it was nothing but you could hear the heaviness in his voice.

“Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault...I just meant. If you’re up here, I don’t really feel like hanging out down there.”

You bit down on your bottom lip and looked over at him, feeling just the slightest catch in your throat. For a second you thought this night was going to get even worse and you’d throw up...but instead you just started talking, words falling out with no control, “I pregamed with Sarah before we even got on the Druthers cause I told her I was gonna tell you tonight that I liked you but I was so nervous that you would tell me you didn’t wanna date me so I just kept drinking...” you said. You realized a moment later what the implication was, “not that its on you that my sugars dropped...or like, not that you have to say you like me just cause I almost passed out.”

“What if I do like you though?”  

“You do?” You asked, shifting more toward him, “seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously...why do you think I came all the way up here? Or carry around jolly ranchers? I like you...I’d do anything for you.” He replied.  

You couldn’t stop the smile on your face as you leaned closer to him, “oh well, now it’s definitely your fault.”  

He laughed, “let me make it up to you.”  

You nodded, standing up and climbing back through the window before holding your hand out for him. JJ was quick to his feet, taking your hand and pushing the window closed as he followed you further into your room.  

[taehoneys]

BAD GUY | THREE

+ A night with Jungkook only complicates things further between you two.

A certain video circulates the school after your big mistake and you never do mistakes, but you did this time… a big one: J e o n J u n g k o o k

— Pairing: Jungkook x Reader ft. Taehyung

— Genre: Drama

— AU(s): College!AU Fratboy!AU

— Warnings: Fingering, Oral, choking, all kinds of sex, okay? Oh, and sometimes it's unprotected.

— Word Count: 5.4K

— Note: This is the first actual fic that I will post to Tumblr! I’m nervous/excited. I hope you enjoy it.

PLAYLIST ♪ | MASTERLIST | ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

03; No good girls

Jungkook was so annoyed with Taehyung that he was ready to just give him the finger and head into his room. But what's new? From the womb (and surely to the tomb), Taehyung and Jungkook have been inseparable. They weren't twins, but their mothers were best friends that had raised them as such that they believed it throughout primary (despite their birthdays being months apart). So, of course, the two were constantly getting on each other's nerves all the time, but neither of them gave each other room to breathe, so that was on them. Scratch that, currently, it was on Taehyung.

"Vape in my face one more time," Jungkook threatened with his eyes, taking a moment away from the smutty conversation happening on his phone.

Taehyung who's leaning on the other side of the couch, legs tucked in, brings the Juul device to his lips, taking a long drag as he stares into Jungkook's eyes. He playfully crosses them before parting his lips seconds later to allow the vape to come out of his mouth, giggling at Jungkook's irritation.

"Fuck's sake, Taehyung, why don't you just go get high in your room?"

"Can't get high," Taehyung responds. "I forgot my weed pen in my sweater."

"Okay, and? Where's your sweater?"

Taehyung’s lip curls into a smirk, "With my girl."

Taehyung’s comment surprises Jungkook. He and Taehyung were slightly different in how Taehyung actually got into relationships, though they were almost always short term since Taehyung got bored easily. "You got a girl?"

Taehyung shrugs.

Dropping the conversation, Jungkook turns back to his phone, nibbling on his lips as he reads the millionth "I want you to cum inside me so bad" sext he's ever received. He taps the side of his phone as he watches the 3 dots dance, indicating the girl was still typing. With the vibration of his phone, the bubble pops up: "I'm such a bad girl". Jungkook snorts as he slides down the couch enough for his neck to rest against the back of it. Nina wasn't that great of a sexter he'll admit, but she was hot and easy.

He never understood why people took that as a bad thing. It just means that they're able to cut to the chase and get to hitting it. He liked that. He wasn't looking for a relationship. What did he care about what their favorite song was or how many kids they wanted? A simple, "What's your major? Oh, cool. Wanna head upstairs?" would do.

Yeah, he loved it easy.

So then why was he hesitating to respond to Nina's "Can I come over?" text? Why were his thoughts drifting away to the night he met you? Teased you? Felt you? Fucked you? Maybe it was because you were his hardest fuck - and he meant that in every way.

Feeling the heat come up his neck, Jungkook tilts his head up as he bites down on his lip harshly. That night, he hadn't expected you to come to the party. In fact, he forgot he even invited you at all. Yet, as he ran down the stairs to his bedroom, there you were making your way inside with a couple of others he recognized in your frat - Yoongi and... Juli, was it? His eyes only briefly landed on theirs before drawing to your tiny red satin dress, which rode up slightly as you took your step into the house. The two of you said nothing. You simply continued to move forward, eyes hanging onto Jungkook's for just a second longer until you lost yourself in the crowd, Jungkook's eyes following you like the big bad wolf himself. Spoiler alert: this is the version where the wolf eats little red up.

Jungkook had let out a puff of air through his nose, leaning over the railing until he felt a hand clap down on his shoulder, shaking him about until the arm hooked around his shoulders. Grinning widely at his frat brother, Namjoon, the pair made their way into the party, allowing him to quickly forget you until he saw you chilling on the counter in the kitchen, talking to his other frat brother, Jimin.

It only took Jungkook a clearing of his throat to have Jimin excuse himself quickly, leaving the kitchen to the two of you.

You boredly gave Jungkook your attention, swinging your legs lightly. "What? I came here to have fun, just like you said."

"If I knew you would do anything I told you, then I would've told you come naked and head straight for my room."

"Oh? Is that what it's really about then, Jeon? You want me all to yourself? Was your tiny ego a little bruised?"

Walking over, he placed his hands down on the counter on each side of you, leaning into you as he narrowed his eyes. You didn't even flinch.

"Good girls like you enter in here with unrealistic dreams and fantasies and walk out with a broken heart and an addiction."

"More like an STI." You snort.

"We get tested." Jungkook replies as if that's really the whole point.

"Good girls do bad things sometimes." You lean into your shoulder, looking up at him with big innocent eyes.

Jungkook looks down at your lips, which spread into a smile. "Have you ever thought about choking me, Jungkook?"

His eyes widen. He had, just not like you were implying, until now.

Satisfied by how speechless you left him, you slid off the counter, grazing against him as you were pressed up against each other. "Good, keep dreaming."

You threw him a tiny wave, leaving him heated, dick hard and somewhat wishing that you could just end his misery. Which you do, later on, but Jungkook didn't have time to think about that.

Jungkook realizes that he's now spent almost 10 minutes on the couch replaying the event in his head, the sound of a new notification catching his attention.

You: Don't forget you owe me.

You: Your choice $50 or $13K.

"What the hell?" Taehyung's voice from behind the couch startles Jungkook, having read your threatening text message on his way to the kitchen. "What kind of shit are you getting into?"

Jungkook swipes the notification away, eyes slanting Taehyung's way with no additional comment. Taehyung, too hungry to care, just stretches and leaves the room, leaving Jungkook to his little situation.

Jungkook: This is the weirdest booty call I've ever received.

You scoff, picking up your phone to angrily text back. Letting him know that you just wanted his ass over right away because the pill was only like 98% effective if taken in 24 hours or fewer. You probably should've headed straight to the store, but honestly, money was really tight. You had a part-time, but you had to cover your tuition, the rent, food, and everything else. Yeah, it was totally your fault for not remembering to use protection this time, but you were only human and you just got a little caught up.

"Bet Jungkook doesn't have to worry about money anyway," you mutter, tapping your nails on the counter while you waited. Jungkook probably had rich parents that paid everything for him, which explains his "I don't give a shit" attitude. Did he know how lucky he was to even get into the university? Well, actually he's lucky to get into one at all.

The front door opens and you get a flash of platinum silver hair as your frat brother/roommate struggles to bring something into the shared house. Your eyes widened, not realizing Yoongi was going to come home so early.

Yoongi pulls in a couple of grocery bags. "Oh? ___, why are you standing there? You almost gave me a heart attack."

You stand up, putting your hands into your - Taehyung's- hoodie. Oh, gosh, you're still wearing Taehyung's hoodie. "Oh- Um. I'm just waiting for Juli."

Yoongi closes the door, locking it before picking up his bags and taking it to the kitchen island. "Juli...? She's not coming home tonight. Did you forget that it's her sister's birthday?"

"That's right!" You snap your fingers. Yoongi only chuckles lightly at your reaction, dropping his eyes to the unfamiliar sweater. "That...is that a guys sweater?"

You nip your bottom lip, ready to vomit an explanation, but Yoongi just starts taking out his things, muttering to himself as he thinks out loud, "I saw that at H&M."

You feel something in the sweater's pocket, taking it out thinking it was a marker or something.

Both you and Yoongi's eyes widen.

His glasses slide down the bridge of his nose, his finger pointing at you. "Hey! What are you doing with that? Isn't that for smoking? Is that what you do now? You smoke?"

"No! It's not mine-"

Yoongi scoffs, "That's what they all say..."

"No, seriously! It's-"

A loud knock on the door followed by a singing of your name rings out.

"___~! Oh, ___. Where for art thou, ___~"

Mortified by the sound of Jungkook's voice, you watch as Yoongi narrows his eyes at you, walking over to look at him through the peephole, Jungkook's eye taking up the complete view.

You run over and hug Yoongi, covering his mouth and whispering up to his ear. "Don't fucking tell Juli, you hear?"

He licks your hand, which you yank away, disgusted. When your phone rings, Jungkook pounds on the door.

"Hey! What game are you playing?" Jungkook yells, "I hear you right on the other side."

Quickly taking off your sweater, you throw it at Yoongi before telling him, "Please put this in my room. I'll explain later, I promise. Just don't tell, Juli."

Yoongi continues to stare at you a little hurt, his eyes picking up the hickeys on your neck when you take off the hoodie. He tries to give you a small little smile, one that doesn't give away that he's been crushing on you since middle school.

You quickly open the door and slip outside, Jungkook sneaking a look into the house a bit, not being discreet at all. You roll your eyes, poking the center of his forehead.

"Hey! It's something."

"You guys didn't get a house on the block?" He asks puzzled, following you to your car.

You stop in your tracks, leaning against the car. "No. We're not a social frat. We don't get a house. My friends and I split the rent for this."

Jungkook rubs his neck, "I see."

You nod. "Wanna take my car or yours?"

Jungkook licks his lips, nervously. "Uh, yours."

You roll your eyes, opening the door so you can climb in. "Of course, get in."

Jungkook quickly rushes over to the passenger side, barely giving you enough time to move the crap you have thrown onto the seat into the back. Snagging a zip-up sweater, you quickly put it on before getting a good look at Jungkook in the car. You can't help but laugh a little by how scrunched up he is in the seat. The passenger side was Juli's and she was a heck of a lot tinier than him.

"Jungkook, why don't you move the seat?"

His eyes grow round and for a second you think it's actually kind of adorable. "Where? How?"

You think it's a little weird, but then you remember you're driving a 2001 Nissan Sentra and not a luxury car of any sort.

"Like this, dummy." You lean over him, causing Jungkook to scoot back as much as he can, his hand tight on the assist grip.

You look up from underneath your eyelashes at him, causing all kinds of flashbacks to run through his mind. To his surprise, the seat jerks back.

"There." You lean back into your seat, turning the car on, and backing out of the driveway.

"Oh, and put your seatbelt on, I don't have insurance."

Jungkook and you were in your own heads the entire car ride, Jungkook just enjoying the sunset and you just thinking about your friends. Specifically, you were thinking about the situation with Yoongi and how you know that, that kid can't keep his mouth shut. He was going to tell Juli and then what? How would you explain the pen and hoodie? She didn't know what happened between you and Jungkook at that party, much less the school bathroom. What if it wasn't even that big of a deal? Sure, he dissed your frat in the quad, but nobody got hurt. She even said she would've gotten on her knees for him, so she can't be mad that you did. Well actually, you didn't. You owned him first.

Jungkook glances at you, who's got your eyebrows all pinned together, clearly a little stressed. You've got your finger trapped between your teeth, nervously chewing on your fingernail. His eyes travel to your hair that you've messily thrown up at a red light. He likes how a strand of hair has slipped out and framed your face. There was something about how casual you were in front of him that he liked. Most girls would've probably dressed over the top even though it was just a quick trip to the store.

"We're here."

He raises his eyebrows, rolling his head to look at the glowing red letters reading: TARGET.

"Wow, finally. I was starting to think you were just going to travel somewhere you could kill and dispose of my body."

"Ha. Ha. I just didn't want anyone catching us."

"Together?"

"No, silly. Buying Plan-B together."

Jungkook slowly starts to smile wide. "Can you imagine if Dr. Lim saw us together?"

You snort, cracking a grin as well. "She'd probably be like 'I fucking knew it'."

The two of you walked into Target as if you did this every weekend, Jungkook grabbing a cart to scooter throughout the store. Instead of heading straight for the aisle with the pill, you both came to an agreement that you should probably buy a couple of other stuff and come to the aisle-that-should-not-be-named last. After looping around twice, you ended up with a couple of bags of chips, a liter of soda, a couple of skincare products, and some detergent.

"There, now it'll look like we just threw the pill into our casual shopping." You say, pretty pleased.

"Uhuh, so do you know where the pill is? Is it by the medicine?"

You grab onto the car, wheeling it in the direction you want it to go, Jungkook on the other end, pushing. "It's by the condoms. Something you would know if you used them."

Jungkook grunts, "I use condoms! I don't actively look for the pills. Besides, they're free at the wellness center. You've had to be pretty stupid to actually buy them. Oh wai-"

You shove the cart back, Jungkook letting out an "oof!" when it bangs against him.

"Some of us have dignity and pride." You mutter through your teeth. "How can you grab them with the lady at the front staring daggers at you?"

Jungkook shrugs, never really thinking about that. "You get used to it after the 100th time."

The number makes your head pound, Jungkook smirking as he watches your reaction. "Was I your first~?"

"What? No, if you were my first I wouldn't be performing acrobatics on your dick, stupid."

"Hm, okay, okay. Then I'm just among the few that you've done it with."

You close your lips, staring at his smug face before shoving the cart against him and walking away.

He was right, you only have had sex with a couple of people. But that was only because all of them turned into relationships and your relationships lasted a while. You weren't sure why it bothered you only now realizing that Jungkook's body count was higher. It's not like the two of you were going to get involved in any way. It most likely just stemmed from jealousy. Jealousy that Jungkook was out having fun with all these people, while you had wasted your time on relationships.

Turning into the aisle, you freeze in your spot upon laying eyes on someone that you haven't in a while. You almost wanted to double over in laughter because it was too much of a coincidence.

Standing right there near the pregnancy tests was your biggest waste of time/ex-boyfriend. Oh, and he also brought a friend: a tiny ash-blonde chick whose highlighted hair tells you she's got her life together. You thought about how if you turned around now, he wouldn't even see you. You'll just grab Jungkook, say that you forgot to grab something, then loop back in a couple of minutes.

Just as you take a step back, Jungkook emerges into the aisle, trapping you in. "Ha!"

Frick. You shut your eyes and press your lips together.

Jin turns around at the sound of the crash, surprised to see you after a year and a half. Funny how when you broke up, you guys weren't necessarily on bad terms, but it just ended up growing into this mutual hatred over time. The reason you two broke up was that you were busy and so was he, your schedules never syncing together. He initiated the breakup, and you were against it. Having given him 2 years, you weren't ready to let go.

"It really is you," Jin says, his girlfriend peeking from behind him. "Wow, how have you been?"

How have you been? You straighten yourself up, giving him a tight smile, "Good, things have been good."

Jungkook stares between you and Jin, reading the situation. Jin suddenly shifts his eyes over to him, smiling, holding no sincerity behind it.

"Glad to hear it. I was worried that you'd never get your life together."

Your heart dropped, suddenly remembering how Jin told people that you were an unorganized mess and that's why you never could find time for him.

Walking up to you him, you look up into his eyes, "Talking like that in front of your girlfriend? Wow, she must feel like she really picked a winner."

Looking at the pregnancy test in her hand, you smile at her. "Better hope that's negative."

Without another word, you hurry away, fuming and hating how embarrassed you felt that Jungkook witnessed the whole thing.

Jungkook quickly pushed the cart, following after you, but not before quickly snagging Plan B off the shelf, eyes narrowing at Jin as he did so.

It took him a couple of aisles until he found you standing in one, wiping the tears from your eyes aggressively, clueing Jungkook that you probably didn't want to be seen crying. Leaning against the outer shelf, he waits for you, giving you some privacy.

When you walk out, you lock eyes with Jungkook's who starts digging in his pockets.

"Oh, there you are! I was just starting to call-"

"I'm fine now. I'm not going to worry about him anymore."

Jungkook grins, scrunching his nose up, "Good because I'm going to make you cry ten times harder."

Leaning into you, he whispers, "If you know what I mean."

You gasp, shoving him lightly before heading towards the cash registers, Jungkook laughing as he follows behind.

"Fuuuck you and you and youuu~  I hate your friends and they hate me too~"

You and Jungkook sing while laying on your bed, drunk out of your minds. Both of you have your arms stretched up to the ceiling, flailing them around as you dance and sing your heart out.

Yoongi had texted you he was going to pull an all-nighter at the library, studying for an exam so you thankfully had the whole place to yourself, allowing you and Jungkook to get comfortable. For you, that meant putting on a baggy t-shirt and pajama shorts and for Jungkook that meant to strip down to his boxers and chill in just his shirt.

Sitting up, you look down at Jungkook who's face is flush pink because of the alcohol consumed. He gives you a sloppy and cheesy grin, one that causes your heart to unexpectedly jump around, something that he's probably done to hundreds of other girls. The only difference between them and you was that you were smart enough to not think too much of it. Instead, you consider it emotional foreplay. There was nothing wrong with letting your heart flip and fantasizing about things that couldn't be as long as you knew at the end that it was only to get you off and nothing else.

"You know what would make this sooo much better?" Jungkook sits up with you, bonking into your head.

"Ow!" You rub your forehead. "What?"

"This." He pulls you into his lap, his eyes drooping seductively as he helps you straddle him.

As you move in closer, your eyes remain locked onto his as if waiting for him to reveal he was kidding. Deep down, you both knew that it was wrong to get involved again, yet at the same time, it was hard to stop.

Feeling him underneath you, a spark travels up your body because of the sensitivity, the thin clothing not helping. Jungkook leans back against the headboard, hands traveling to your hips as he guides you to move them. He doesn't know what got into him, but he partly blames becoming horny after drinking too much.

Grinding down on him, your lips part to let out your uneven breathing. Jungkook starts to meet your grinds, your eyes going from looking at each other to suddenly watching below as you sped up, humping each other for pleasure. The only thing you could concentrate on was how good it felt and how dizzy you were becoming.

You jerk your hand to hold on to the headboard, flashbacks of the party reminding you how much better it would feel to have Jungkook actually inside of you. You wanted to just strip and jump on his cock again, but you controlled the urge, reminding yourself how much fun it is to be a tease.

"Fuck," Jungkook whispers with a sharp tongue. His movements were now overtaking your own, his grinds practically lifting your hips up higher as he grew more desperate, him too wanting to get rid of your clothing.

You smile, pleased that you had the upper-hand in the situation, your mind already coming up with the millions of ways to tease him, the very thought causing your core to drip. Feeling yourself almost on the brink of an orgasm, you hop off of Jungkook. Leaning back against the pillow, you quickly slide off your underwear and shorts in a hurry, kicking them off to then spread about your legs for Jungkook.

Shocked, Jungkook runs his fingers through his hair, watching you with jaw slightly dropped. Staring intensely at him, you bring down your hand to rub your coated core before focusing on rubbing circles on your clit, throwing your head back to hiss in bliss. Pleasing yourself felt so good, but knowing that Jungkook was watching you do it caused a pleasing knot in your stomach.

Jungkook was hard, like ready-to-bust hard. Watching your expression, Jungkook couldn't help but think about how sexy you looked and how he's really lucky to have messed with you. Good girls can do bad things sometimes, he had to remind himself (though, he's starting to think that good girls are just bad girls who haven't been caught). Right now, you were a real-life fantasy, and he knows now that this is something that no sext could ever accomplish for him.

"J-Jungkook," You intensely locked eyes with him, panting, "Have you had a girl orgasm on your face?"

Fuck. Jungkook shook his head, taking your hands moving from your pussy as an invitation to let his head between your legs. Without hesitation, he leaned in, his eyes closing as he smells your sweet arousal, your fingers threading through his hair to give it a firm tug.

"D-don't screw it up," you warned, your heart rate speeding up by the hot breaths against your pussy, causing you to shiver in anticipation.

Jungkook only moaned in response to the tug of his hair, diving right in by letting his tongue explore every inch of your cunt, letting you know how much he enjoyed giving head as he did receiving it. You sunk into the feeling, bucking your hips up as he delivers a kiss near your clit, a total teasing move that drove you wild. You wanted to keep your mewls in control, however, that was something that you really couldn't keep a secret from Jungkook. Grabbing a pillow, you use it to muffle your moans, hoping that the neighbors wouldn't assume somebody was being destroyed in any other fashion.

With the flat of his tongue, Jungkook delivers a long lick against your slit, causing your legs to tremble as you drawled out his name, "Jungkook!"

Reaching up, Jungkook fists the pillow that you have trapped in your hands, throwing it aside to let you know how displeased he is with the fact that you were drowning out your moans. He didn't care who heard and part of him getting off is knowing that others could hear your cries as he makes a mess out of you.

Getting a good taste of the juices that heavily flood out your cunt, Jungkook groans purposefully with pleasure. "Shit, your pussy tastes so sweet." He breathes against you, causing you to lift your hips again, trying to get him to place his tongue on your now aching and throbbing bud of nerves. "Damn, babygirl~"

"P-Please!" You practically sob, wanting your sweet release, already fearing how explosive it would be as it set through your body.

Jungkook pulls away slightly, loving how much the folds glistened as a result of how much you were dripping, your vagina clenching, letting him know that you were desiring to be filled up with. Imagining how pretty it would look with his cum spilling out of it, he bit down hard on his lip, his erection evident as he straightens up to throw off his shirt. Throwing your legs over his shoulders, he toys with your clit, pleased by how much you write in tune with your sounds of pleasure. Teasing the bud over and over, you wrap your legs around his head tightly, wanting more pressure to send you over the edge.

Panting erratically, you produce the sexiest cry that Jungkook's ever heard, and that's a major compliment from someone who now has to get to page 100 on Pornhub for a good video. Arching your back, you give Jungkook's locks a strong tug to which his cock twitches, swollen and eager for a touch. He would touch himself in a bit, but right now he was determined to make you cum by his tongue alone, a first for him since he normally doesn't eat a girl out.

"Fu..." Your breath strains, your head completely thrown back and jaw slack.

Jungkook quickly pulls away, your juices dripping down his chin as he watches your pussy quiver, your whole body trembling as you hands fist the bedsheets. You were almost there and the fire in Jungkook's eyes was clear as he admired your face, his hand sliding his boxers down as he freed his hard rod, his hand wrapping around his girth, stroking as he watches you orgasm.

"Oh~" You sigh with a euphoric smile after catching your breath, feeling the calm take over your body as you lay down in exhaustion, giggling slightly. You've never had a strong orgasm from head alone (though your past boyfriends weren't that determined).

You notice that Jungkook has already reached into his boxers, looking at you as he tends to his hard muscle in long lazy strokes. Letting out a quiet moan of relief, you realize that he's  probably been aching this whole time, yet he didn't complain one bit, instead focused on your satisfaction. This causes a blush to rise to your cheeks, appreciative of the fact.

"Take your shirt off." He commands, voice deep, continuing to fondle himself.

You obey, slowly taking it off before reaching behind you to unclasp your bra, slipping it off to allow your boobs to be on full display, the nipples pointy just from Jungkook's strong gaze. He looked so hot right now, getting off by just admiring you, it set your ego through the roof.

"Are you going to cum on these, Jungkook?" You playfully cup them, squeezing them and moaning lightly.

"Or are you going to cum here?" You stick your tongue out, leaning forward as you open your mouth for him.

"Fuck, ___," He breathes, his sweaty fringe falling over his eyes, his thumb rubbing over the base of his head, before twisting his wrist to keep stroking the full length of his dick.

"Hmm, what if I decide not to let you~," You tease with new confidence.

"Please," he begs, his hand speeding up.

"No, I'm a good girl, remember." You bat your eyelashes his way, a smirk on your face.

Jungkook growls lowly, his hand tugging on the back of your hair as punishment, causing you to let out a pleased sigh, looking at his eyes, daring for him to do it again.

There it was. The challenge that Jungkook loved so much.

Crawling over you , you have no choice but to lie down on your back, biting on your lip as you look up at him. "What are you going to do to me, Jeon?"

Jungkook looks down at you, his necklace dangling over you, your finger going up to entwine it. You give him a tug, Jungkook's hand going to the side of you as he stops himself from crushing down on you. Your lips hover over each other and you think about kissing him, but you don't. If you were to do so, you would cross a line.

You feel Jungkook's breath over your lips, but only for a short while before he turns his head to the side, sitting up again. You let out a breath that you didn't realize you were holding in.

Jungkook traces your lips with his thumb, pulling down your bottom lip slightly. "You're such a fucking tease."

Before taking it into your mouth, you give him a smile, mouthing "choke me, you won't". Jungkook smirks letting you suck on his finger while your eyes remained set on each other. He curses before finally wrapping his hand around your neck which causes your lids to flutter close, your lips parting as he spreads your legs and guides his cock into you. Surprised, you gasp, your heart flipping by the fullness between your legs, the surge running through your body again.

"I'll do more than just choke you," Jungkook whispers into your ear, starting to move his hips to thrust into you, burying his cock deep each time. You gasp, throwing your head back slightly, as he starts ramming inside of you. You clench around him tightly, Jungkook letting a "shit" slip past his lips as he releases his hand from your neck, placing his forearm on the side of you as he pumps into you faster, concentrating on his release.  Hearing his ragged breaths, you know he's close so you wrap your legs around him, a string of satisfied mewls spilling past your lips, mostly to just get him off.

It only takes him a couple of strokes more before he pulls out, fingers wrapping around your chin as he pulls you forward, commanding with his eyes for you to open your mouth. You do, looking up at him as he fills up your mouth with his cum. You try not to gag as it hits the back of your throat, but it's hard when your mouth becomes overfilled, the cum dripping out.

"Swallow like a good girl~" Jungkook teases, chest heavily rising and falling as he looks down at you.

You swallow, opening your mouth to show him your tongue.

Weakened by the satisfaction, Jungkook lays down beside you, throwing his arm over his eyes, busy trying to catch his breath.

You shudder playfully, "Ugh, salty."

"Shut up," he grins.

You lay down beside him, staring at his face. To your surprise, Jungkook rolls his head over as well, turning his body towards you.

"Jungkook?"

"Hm?"

"Why are we doing this?"

Jungkook chuckles, slightly sleepy, struggling to keep his eyelids open, "For the hell of it?"

You smile a little, a hint of sadness to your tone, "Well, it's got to stop."

He scrunches his nose up, "Does it?"

You nod.

"Why?" He whispers, eyes closing for a bit before opening slowly. "Can this last a little longer?"

Bringing up your hand to his face, you gently close his eyelids one by one. After a few seconds, you realize that Jungkook had fallen asleep.

Slipping out of bed, you head to the bathroom to quickly brush your teeth and get ready for bed. As you did, you thought about how Jungkook wanted to keep whatever kind of relationship you guys had going. Did he mean like a friend with benefits thing? Like a secret? A whenever-I-feel-like it thing? or possibly a relationship?

The last one was laughable, you'll admit. How ironic would it be if you wanted something no strings attached, and he wanted to pursue a relationship? It didn't matter because you weren't going to ask him any of it since it didn't make a difference. You weren't going to get in any kind of relationship with anybody soon. You wanted to explore and protect your heart a little longer.

After all, you could only tame a bad boy for so long before they revert to their habits.

Returning to bed, you pull the covers over Jungkook before climbing on top of the blanket, sleeping an arm's length away, knowing that in a few hours, he wouldn't even be there.

Jungkook awoke to the sound of someone coming into the house. His eyes sprung open, heart skipping a beat as he heard a voice calling for you.

"___, I brought breakfast. Are you up? Sheesh, it's already 11."

Jungkook leans his head forward in surprise, tapping his phone on the nightstand to confirm that it's indeed 11.

Fuck.

He didn't know what to do in this situation. Usually girls were the ones who were leaving his place, now it just felt weird that he had to.

Jungkook tried to elbow you awake, but you only rolled over, falling back asleep. Seriously?

"__," Yoongi called again, his hand going to your door knob.

Jungkook quickly lept up, leaning against the door to prevent it from opening.

"Are you mad? I didn't tell Juli, you know. I know you think I tell her everything, but you should know that you and I were friends first, okay?"

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, confused by what you and Yoongi could have possibly been talking about before.

"I left the sweater behind the door...Just...just come out and explain everything when you're ready, alright? I'll be in my room."

Sweater?

Jungkook leaned off the door, flipping through all the hoodies on the hook. He wasn't sure he would understand what Yoongi meant by it, but curiosity got to him. He stopped once his hand got placed on a familiar gray one. It can't be...

"Can't get high, I left my weed pen in my sweater."

Jungkook quickly searched the pockets, closing his eyes once he felt the familiar shape of Taehyung’s weed oil pen. Taking it out, his heart sinks at the sight of it.

"Where's your sweater?"

"With my girl."

Jungkook's jaw dropped, scoffing.

Taehyung was there. Taehyung watched as Jungkook threw the invitation your way. Taehyung saw Jungkook take you up those stairs to his bedroom. Taehyung fucking knew.

He knew you were off limits.

Yet something happened between you two and everyone seemed to know, except Jungkook who was left in the dark.

Seething, Jungkook took the pen, quickly getting dressed as he stared at you on the bed, knowing he was right after all.

There are no good girls, only bad girls that haven't been caught.

And you?

You've been busted.

___________________

Author's note;;

I cannot believe the response I’ve been getting for this fic on here!! Thank you all for reading this and I hope that I won’t disappoint. Fun fact, this chapter already has four parts out and there was like 2 years between parts 3 and 4 LOL It’s cross posted on AO3 as well.

NEXT CHAPTER > 

[bopbopstyles]

MUCH TOO MUCH

RATING: R/smut (some sex, some alcohol/drugs, cursing, the usual)

WORD COUNT: 9.7k

CATEGORIES: college!harry, roommate!harry

MASTERLIST | ASK ME QUESTIONS

a/n: this is my entry for my beloved @stellarboystyles​‘s 3 year anniversary challenge!!!!! it was so fun to write these two and i hope you like it! a bit on the shorter side, but delicious all the same. come talk to me about them when you’re done, i want to hear what you think! (also this was named for the song by lennon stella in case u were curious lol)

Currently, he had you pressed against the wall of a house party, his fingers clenched in the hem of your skin-tight crop top, a knee propped between your legs, and his lips attached to your neck. Your hands were threading through his hair, those locks that curled at the ends and you’d always thought about tugging on, and now that you had the chance you weren’t passing it by.

“Fuck, Harry,” you mumbled, your head spinning from the alcohol in your veins and the feeling of Harry this close to you. To be completely honest, you knew what was happening was probably not the best idea. But considering how many cups of jungle juice you’d had and the fact that you were definitely crossed, you frankly couldn’t find a care in the world.

or

Harry and Y/N live together and one night they hook up and things get complicated

pls reblog and share with your friends 💕

Harry living with you wasn’t planned. At least, not in the way where you guys were best friends and decided to live together way. More in the way of neither of you had anyone else to live with and had the same price range kind of way. You happened to be at a mutual friend’s party mid-way through your sophomore spring and you’d mentioned in passing that you were looking for a roommate, and Harry’s head had popped up.

Somewhere along the way, though, you’d decided you quite liked living with him.

Even if he was obnoxious sometimes, was absolutely shit at doing chores, and couldn’t properly load the dishwasher.

He had a charm to him, you had to admit. He was good at getting on your good side—texting you when you were on the library and he was just leaving to head over, asking if you wanted anything to snack on. One time, he’d brought you a pint of Ben & Jerry’s and a bag of Flaming Hot Cheetos without being asked because he knew you hadn’t eaten in hours and needed your favorite foods.

His charms were what made you overlook the nights that he had people over and you had to listen to the sound of his bed frame hitting the wall, or had to creep into the bathroom in the early hours of the morning before he and whoever he’d brought back woke up, pretending to not even live in your apartment for fear of being embarrassed. Although, you never quite knew what you should be embarrassed about—but you were. Maybe it was because you frequently ended up listening to his sounds and trying not to think about how good he sounded or wondering what it was like to be in bed with him.

But that wasn’t something you would tell anyone, not even your friends who pestered you about what it was like living with Harry. Harry, the party-goer who always had three types of hard liquor in your kitchen but was also your go-to person to edit your papers and help you study for exams. Harry, who was your partner in crime on a night out and on a night in, someone who you could be yourself with no matter the context. It was something you’d never expected from him, but now that you had it, you couldn’t image losing it.

Which was why the current situation you were in was not the best.

Currently, he had you pressed against the wall of a house party, his fingers clenched in the hem of your skin-tight crop top, a knee propped between your legs, and his lips attached to your neck. Your hands were threading through his hair, those locks that curled at the ends and you’d always thought about tugging on, and now that you had the chance you weren’t passing it by.

“Fuck, Harry,” you mumbled, your head spinning from the alcohol in your veins and the feeling of Harry this close to you. To be completely honest, you knew what was happening was probably not the best idea. But considering how many cups of jungle juice you’d had and the fact that you were definitely crossed, you frankly couldn’t find a care in the world.

Besides, it wasn’t like you hadn’t literally dreamed of this happening. In fact, you wanted this with every fiber of your being. You just didn’t have your brain stopping you now.

His tongue danced up the column of your neck, dipping into the crevice under your ear and his lips formed a circle on your skin and pulled gently, your fingers tugging on the strands of his hair. Your heart was beating wildly and so was his—you could feel it against your body—or maybe that was the thrum of the bass? You weren’t sure. When he tugged on your earlobe you wrapped your hands in the bottom of his graphic t-shirt, some random streetwear company that he was obsessed with lately and you thought was weird, but didn’t comment on.

One of your legs slid up his, ankle hooking around his knee and pulling his pelvis into yours, and the surprised grunt that left Harry’s mouth made you smile. “Y/N,” he groaned, fingers pressing harder into your skin. “What are you  doing?”

“I’d ask you the same,” you answered, a devilish smile on your lips that Harry kissed away, his teeth tugging on your bottom lip and pulling your jaw down just enough so that he could earn access. It was brutal, kissing him. And not because it was bad, but because it was so good and you’d robbed yourself of this for a year and a half.

Your lips intertwined and fought for dominance, Harry’s sliding between yours and sucking and pulling just enough for you to move closer for more. Your wrists ended up behind his neck, holding him close to you, and you used the pressure to gain an advantage, grinding in his hips and kissing him with a passion burning in your heart.

Harry, meanwhile, was losing his fucking mind. He’d been thinking of this forever, and somehow tonight’s combination of alcohol and weed had led you two here: to a position that neither of your quite knew how it started, but you weren’t stopping it. In fact, Harry caged you in, his hands moving from your body to wall behind you, palms pressed to the worn white paint. He didn’t want to lose you, to lose this moment, to pretend like it never happened. Instead, he wanted to keep you tight against him, to memorize how it felt when the heel of your boots dragged along the inside seam of his denim jeans, the warmth spreading across his neck when you gently scratch at his skin as he suckled on your bottom lip and kissed a line across your jaw. He wanted to remember the sound of your soft breaths in his ears, how they increased in tempo as he sucked a hickey onto your neck, doubling his effort when you didn’t move to stop him. He’d seen you with them before and now that you were his—at least for the night—he wanted to give you one to remember him by.

Not that you could forget him. Not with Some Kind of Drug pounding in the speakers, his hips grinding into yours in the low lighting, his teeth nipping at your skin as you exhaled his name and a curse. He was unforgettable, that Harry Styles. Especially when he had your gripping his skin through his shirt, desperate for something to hold onto as he pushed  you higher and higher into the clouds, your mind a haze of just nothing but him.

Harry pulled away a hair, mainly because he  was getting tired of just having you against a wall with people everywhere—he either wanted to move this into a private space or call this off. Although he didn’t really want the latter, not really. That was only if you didn’t want him. But from the way you stared at him as he created a half foot of distance between you, your chest heaving, lace edge of your bra peeking out from underneath your cropped tank top, he didn’t think that’s what you wanted.

“Do you want to stay or go?” He asked, one of his hands lingering at the wall next to you and the other moving to move a piece of your hair out of your face.

“Go,” you answered, fingers twisting in the fabric of his shirt. “If—if you want to.”

He didn’t even take a breath before he answered, “Yeah, I want to.”

Which was how you two ended up making out in the Uber back to your apartment, you straddling his lap and twisting over him as he kissed you, his hands cupping your ass. Neither of you were sober enough to think about the fact that you were in someone else’s car, but then again, neither of you would probably care. Especially when you sucked on the edge of Harry’s jaw and he tugged your hips down on his and groaned low and rough in your ear, the sound making you smile against his skin.

The radio was playing the background, but in the haze you didn’t hear anything, all you could take in was Harry: his touch, his smell, the soft sounds he made as you moved on him, the feeling of his jeans against your tights-clad skin. It was chilly out and you had a thin pair of stockings on, sheer enough for your skin to show through, but enough to give you a bit of protection from the nip of the cold. His hands had already rucked up the edge of your favorite leather skirt, and your bra was poking out of the top of your cropped tank top that was tight over the swell of your breasts.

You were a sight in Harry’s eyes, something he couldn’t get enough of. Even though he lived with you, saw you  in every outfit, especially the ones involving mismatched sweats and tired eyes, he never thought you were anything other than beautiful. Sometimes a bit rough around the edges, but who wasn’t? But now, with you like this, on top of him, he didn’t know if he’d ever seen you quite this gorgeous. This delicious, even though he hated describing people that way. But how else could he describe you when you stared down at him, lips red from his kisses and eyes blazing for him, chest heaving and cleavage demanding his attention. His hands couldn’t stop curving over your legs, smoothing up and down your thighs. It was sin, he decided, how he felt right now, because he couldn’t stop the spiral of thoughts in his brain.

The things he wanted to do to you.

The things he wanted you to do to him.

The things he wanted to see.

The things he wanted you to see.

The things he wanted to hear.

The things he wanted you to hear.

The things he wanted to feel.

The things he wanted you to feel.

It was like a freight train running through his head, all of the images and thoughts and concepts barreling into his thoughts. It made the swirl of your hips over his and the way you curled your  fingers into the thin fabric covering his shoulders particularly hard to resist.

Realistically, the drive to your shared off-campus apartment wasn’t that long, but in your heads, it seemed like ages. Ages of waiting for a bed and privacy, ages of waiting to shed layers and know what endless bare skin looked like.  So when your driver arrived at your building, you pushed open the door, narrowly missing banging your head on the roof of the car.

Harry chuckled as he tumbled out after you, thanking the driver and wrapping his arm around your waist. You  wasted no time before you curled your arm around him and danced your fingers up his opposite side, your lips sucking delicately on the fabric of his t-shirt closest to you. It made Harry’s eyes flutter shut and his breath jump.

Was this what  you were always like? This was the thing about this  situation—you two knew one another, but not like this. You’d never made out in the back of an Uber or made out on your doorstep while one of you fumbled for the keys like you were now, or felt your hands dig into exposed skin and singe of hot breath on your neck. This was new territory, and perhaps if you  both weren’t quite so drunk you would’ve stopped to talk about it.

But instead, Harry was leading you to his bedroom with your legs around his waist and your fingers in his hair, his lips crawling up your throat, walking blindly because he knew the way.

The thing about hooking up with someone you’d been close friends with for over a year was that there wasn’t a layer of awkwardness because you didn’t know the person. Instead, it was a hint of unassuredness whenever clothes started coming off, a hint of awe, but nothing uncomfortable. You’d never felt quite this comfortable with someone, in fact. You’d never trusted someone you hooked up with quite as much as you trusted Harry. And he felt the same way. When you pushed his shirt up his torso and scratched your nails softly down his skin he had never felt so alive, so full of desire.

It was why he fell back on his bed and let you stand between his knees in a desperate attempt to get your clothes off so he could feel your bare skin. He’d been waiting all night to see you—to finally see you—and now that he had you, he didn’t want to let you go.

“They’re tights,” you mumbled against his lips when he tried to pull on the material on your legs, a chuckle leaving your mouth.

“I know,” he replied, smirking. “Not an idiot.”

“Never said you were.” You stepped away, deciding you could do this part by yourself with more ease, and unzipped your leather skirt, the zip down the front meaning it was easy access, and let the material fall to the ground. Harry’s eyes swept up your legs and to the place where the band of your tights dug into your waist, gaze flaming black with desire. Then, you hooked your fingers in the tight band and tugged it down, peeling the thin material off of your skin, hopping on one foot to get them off your feet.

Harry resisted the urge to laugh, and instead reached out to hold you steady, a smile winding onto your face from the action. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you answered, standing up straight in just your purple underwear and your shirt and bra. His hands held fast to your hips, palms curving around your skin and gaze dancing up your body. And when you pulled your tight shirt up and over your heads, leaving you in nothing but your bra and panties, his heart about stopped.

You had on a set that didn’t match, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t stop looking at your breasts—it was cliche, that he loved boobs, but how could he not? Especially when you were breathing this fast and looking at him like that and you were wearing a red bra that barely held you in. How as he supposed to not lose his goddamned mind?

“What?” You asked, stepping back in between his legs, hands falling to his shoulders, sliding up the slope to cup his neck.

“You—you just,” he choked out, the words rough and dry in his mouth. “You’re so gorgeous.”

You didn’t know what to say, so you just moved. You kissed him, lips caught between his, and pulled at his shirt, tugging it up until he shifted back to tug it off his body and let it fall to the ground. You stopped thinking, stopped using any sense in your body, and instead just felt. Felt how he made your skin sing and your body thrum with pleasure, how he made the worries at the back of your head fall away with each pass of his hands, focused on the way he kissed across your clavicle and sighed when you harshly gripped his hair. You let yourself drown in those feelings because you knew if you used your head that somehow you would succumb to your fears and lose this moment, and that was the utter last thing you wanted.

Instead, you wanted to drown in him.

And he felt the same way. He fell back onto the duvet and took you with him, flipping you onto your back so that your hair was pressed against the pillowcase, a cheap one from Target he’d brought at the beginning of the year that you’d convinced him was a good color. You looked up at him with awe and temptation in your irises, and Harry took only a minute to rip off his jeans and his t-shirt, leaving his boxers on only because he didn’t want to seem like an asshole. Then, he was back hovering over you, his curls falling into his face, your fingers reaching up to push them back.

A smile drifted across your face and he dropped to his elbows, peppering kisses down your neck and falling back to his knees as he made his way down your body. When he heard a chuckle rip from your throat, he glanced up at you. “Distracted?”

“No,” you said, poking his temple. “Thinking about how when we first met I teased you about how you must fuck girls with your snapback on because you wore it so much.”

Harry hummed a laugh into your chest, dimples peeking out and you thought it was downright adorable. “I was a bit of a whore when we met, huh?”

“Maybe a bit,” you answered, a teasing lilt to your words that Harry knew well. “Don’t worry, you’re only just a bit less of one now. Didn’t lose that title, I don’t think.”

“That’s a bit rude,” he said, sucking harshly at your nipple through your bra. “Bullying me while I’m tryin’ to go down on you.”

“Is that what you’re doing? Couldn’t tell since you hadn’t quite made it there yet.”

You were taunting him like you always did, the alcohol in your veins making it more sexual in nature, and Harry loved it. It made it feel like the two of you, not like something that would be completely forgotten in the morning. “Am I too slow for you?” He asked, scratching gently at your sides and making you squirm as he fell farther down the length of your body. “I was trying to take my time but if you’re impatient, then—“

“Harry, please, fuck, just—“ A gasp fell from parted lips when he finally licked at the hood of your clit, your hands gripping his hair within another breath. Your words were nothing but pants, dry and heaving sounds that filled Harry’s head. He’d heard you through the walls before—it was a college-priced apartment, after all. Thick walls weren’t exactly something that fit in your price range. But hearing you this close, this sharp, the sound this crisp in his ears, it was making his hips rut into the duvet. It was his wet dream actualized, as horrible as that sounded.

Yes, he had wet dreams about you.

Yes, he knew that was probably horrible.

And no, he couldn’t bring himself to feel bad about it.

Your mind, on the other hand, was blank. Like, literally blank. That was the thing about sex when you were drunk, all the thinking and nerves and walls dropped away and you just let your body feel. There wasn’t that niggling thought at the back of your head that questioned if you looked good like this, you just let go and let your back arch and hips circle and arms quiver. Your hands drifted from the duvet to his hair and then the pillow behind your head, trying to figure out what would hold your grip best as Harry absolutely devoured you.

So far, you hadn’t settled on your favorite thing to hold on to, but his hair was in the running for first place. The sight of his eyes peeking up at yours, an image you only got every once in a while because you could barely keep your eyes open to look at him, was enough to send you spiraling. But you were trying to hold yourself together because you didn’t want this to end. You’d just gotten him like this and you didn’t want the night to be over because who knew what the morning held?

Thankfully, though, your drunk mind didn’t let those disruptive thoughts linger. Instead, they focused on the orgasm rising as he curled his tongue over your panties and then under them, the heat of his breath on your sensitive skin making you moan deeply, his ring-clad fingers pressing into your hips. Harry loved watching you almost as much as he loved tasting you, doing this to you. There was a power in oral sex, Harry couldn’t deny that, and he loved it not because of the power it gave him, but the gratification of making someone else feel good. He loved watching women finish, and you were no different. In fact, you were blowing every woman before you out of the water.

Maybe that was the alcohol talking. He couldn’t tell. But either way, when he sucked on your clit and you squeaked out his name, he didn’t know how he could do this with another person for at least a month or two. Getting you out of his head would be his full-time job for a while, especially while living with you.

Your fingers threaded through his brown curls, eyes fluttering open, mind swirling and trying to focus somehow on the sight below you and the feeling swirling through your body, a tightness spreading up your legs, your toes curling and feet pressing down towards the duvet, scrabbling for something to hold onto. They ended up hooking around Harry’s shoulders, his hands holding your thighs close, as if not worried in the slightest about them getting too tight. Instead, he held you close and your breath came out in short pants, airways drying from not being able to even close your mouth and breathe.

His tongue was just so wet. There wasn’t really a better way to describe it. Oral while you were like this always felt this way—just overwhelming in the most basic sense. It was wet and warm and overwhelming and you never wanted it to end. You didn’t even know how long he was down there, his head tucked between your thighs, alternating between sucking on your clit and licking up and down your slit, poking his tongue into your hole for a second—just long enough to make you groan, deep and unabashed.

“I’m close,” you murmured, words broken and Harry could only understand them because he had heard you talk in the morning after you’d just gotten up and your mind wasn’t quite working yet. He parsed your words together with ease, and the result made him grin, and suck harshly on your clit, before dropping his chin and licking into you with fervor. “Fuck, Harry.”

“That’s it,” he mumbled, words garbled because he didn’t even raise his head to speak, he kept his lips right on your skin which meant the vibrations of his words flowed through your veins.

His fingertips pressed harshly on the outside of your thighs, holding you close, and somehow the combination of the pressure and the heat of his tongue had you tumbling over the edge, your chest rising and falling quickly as you struggled to catch a breath, your orgasm overtaking you. Harry watched as your fingers clenched the duvet, legs tightening and then loosening around his shoulders, before dropping to the bed with a satisfied sigh from your lips.

He could watch you for days.

“Come here,” you said, glancing down at him with a fucked out look on your face, eyes glassy and lips red from chewing on them, your hair a mess from thrashing your head back and forth. He’d never seen you quite like this and he liked the sight.

Liked it a lot, in fact. He moved up your body with ease, the soft skin of his legs rubbing against yours. Once he was at your eye level, you sealed the distance with a kiss that made Harry’s mind fumble for stable ground, desperate for you. When you ran your toes up his calf, though, the soft touch making him moan, he knew he was fucked. “You—need you,” he said, breathless against your lips.

You pushed his underwear down without question, sliding your fingers under the band so you could feel his warm skin under your palms. When he bucked up into you as your nails brushed against his butt cheeks, you smiled against his lips, loving how obvious he was. He didn’t hide anything, pretend like he wasn’t affected. You liked that in a guy. “Condom?” You said, tweaking his skin between your thumb and forefinger.

Harry lifted his head, blinking once. “Yeah—yeah, in the drawer. One sec.” He shifted, rolling off of you so he could do two things. The first was find a condom in the drawer, the second was push down his briefs. Well, technically three things, because after that he rolled the condom on with focus, lip caught between his teeth as you watched, head turned to take in the sight of his side profile.

He was gorgeous. You’d known that for a long while, but seeing him like this, under the glow of the bedside table light and the sweaty curls sticking to his forehead, his chest rising rapidly. You were even attracted to his smattering of chest hair, and especially liked the way his skin purged at his sides. In fact, you reached out and grabbed it gently, drawing his attention back to you.

With one look back at you, he rolled back over you, your legs parting with ease. You wound your fingers through his hair and appreciated that he didn’t ask you questions, that he didn’t try to talk about it because you didn’t want to. You wanted this, it was obvious in how you gazed at him with desire and kneaded at his skin, tugging his pelvis closer and closer. The talk, you thought, would’ve ruined it, made you question it. And you didn’t want to question, you just wanted him.

So when he pushed one of your knees up to your waist and brushed his condom-covered tip over your slit, the skin nudging the hood of your clit, your hips moved without thought. Circled up for him, trying to get the angle for him to slip inside properly. Because you were craving it, feeling him. Needed him in a way you never had before and you didn’t want to linger on it, just wanted it to happen finally.

Harry’s eyes caught on yours, and as if scared of what he found, he looked back down at where your bodies met, before pushing inside. A moan ripped from your throat, fingernails digging into his biceps which you were gripping as he slid in slowly.

“Shit,” you cursed as you felt yourself adjusting to him, “Shit, fuck, shit, Harry.”

“Sorry,” he said, a trace of what you could’ve sworn was a blush creeping across his cheeks. “Good?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, squeezing at his arms. “Go.”

And he did.

Holy fuck did he go.

Harry held nothing back when he fucked you. He found a  rhythm almost immediately, one that had your torso moving up the duvet and your head raising from the pillow and slamming back down again, eyes fluttering shut and then open again when he hit a deep spot. It was hard to describe how good it felt to have him inside of you, but god, it felt divine. Something you’d been missing. And not that it was him you’d been missing, but sex in general, you’d missed it. Missed this feeling of just losing yourself in it, in the movement of bodies and the sounds and the sweat and that feeling of closeness when Harry’s head dropped down to your neck and he thrusted deep inside of you,  an echo of your name on his lips.

Your ankles hooked above his bum, and the impact of his hips on your inner thighs you knew would leave a bruise in the morning and you relished the prospect of it. Of remembering this feeling, of reliving it every time you squatted down. Although the thought of being empty of him was something you were not looking forward to, you were excited about the aftermath on your body.

And Harry was losing his fucking mind as he moved inside of you. Not only because you were squeezing him tight and thought he was going to come within seconds, but because of the way you were wrapped around his body, your hands holding onto his biceps so tightly he was sure there’d be marks tomorrow. It was how your legs sat above his hips, the backs of your heels digging into his ass to make sure he drove into you with a depth and a speed that you needed. Your head tipped back and your mouth was open slightly, tufts of air and moans of pleasure floating from them and through the air, sending sparks down his spine.

When he dropped his head to your neck it was because he missed smelling you, being that close to you. So he lost himself on the column of your neck, leaving mark after mark as he drove into you, as you swallowed him whole—body and mind. This sex was consuming in a way he wasn’t used to and he didn’t think it was the alcohol and the marijuana. He didn’t know why.

Well, he did, but he pretended not to.

Especially when you pulled on his hair and murmured, “Faster, please, H—fuck, please,” in his ear.

Yes, he decided as he sped up and reached a  depth that made both of you choke on air, it was a far better idea to pretend that what he was feeling right now was completely normal.

Usually you liked to be on top, to set the pace and keep control when you hooked up with guys, but right now, Harry was doing so good on his own that the last thing you wanted was to stop him. So you let him set the pace and instead kept yourself busy by touching every inch of his body available. You fingers ran down the length of his arms, across the black tattoos swirling across his skin, and towards his chest, making a line down to his belly. When you scratched softly over his skin he grunted—and not a weird sound, but one that you could tell meant he liked it.

So you pressed a little harder, experimenting a bit.

To your smug joy, Harry’s fingers curled in the duvet next to your stomach, arms tensing, and his eye snapped to yours. He didn’t even have to say anything—you knew. He wanted you to keep going.

And you did. You brushed your hand to the top of his torso and dragged a torturing path downwards, nails biting into his skin. Not enough to draw blood, but enough to leave an angry red trail. Harry was panting above you, eyes fluttering closed as he thrusted into you.

He was close. Your nails mixed with how you squeezed him tight inside of you and the sounds you were making and the slam of the bed against the wall and your perfume lingering in the air—it all mixed together into a dangerous concoction that had him struggling on the edge. “Are you close?” He asked, words rougher than they had been when he last spoke.

When your chin tipped down ever so slightly, Harry smiled devilishly, the prospect of bringing you over the edge again spurring him on, a second surge of energy coursing through his veins. Any exhaustion he had been feeling before from lingering in the same position, any ache in his knees or tightness in his arms was gone, in favor of pressing your knees farther up towards your chest, earning a new angle that had your hands scrambling up his arms and nails digging into his shoulders.

He hissed at the touch and you panted the word Yes over and over again, eyes screwed shut as the orgasm built inside of you like a tidal wave, threatening to break as he twisted his hips a particular way. You were going to come, you realized only seconds before it happened, the depth Harry was reaching and the brutal pace against your hips creating a deadly combination.

As you did, a shudder of his name falling through the room, you squeezed Harry like a death grip and he choked out a moan before coming mere seconds after, unable to hold himself back any longer.

“Shit,” he said, leaning against your shins as he caught his breath. Your legs were still propped up against your chest, his hands caging in your body as he leaned his weight onto you.

Your eyes opened, the soft bedroom light seeming brighter after what had just happened. “Shit,” you answered simply, not knowing what else to say.

What did you say to your roommate after you fucked them, anyway? The alcohol still lingered, both of you plenty tipsy still. It was enough for your legs to drop open and happily let Harry kiss you senseless as he withdrew from inside of you, your hand cupping his jaw. His lips were fucking sin and you hoped you would be able to forget them. Because as he pulled away and mumbled about throwing away the condom, leaving you breathless on his duvet, you didn’t know if you’d be able to.

Harry woke up to an empty bed and a throbbing headache. He was still naked, but that wasn’t unusual considering he favored sleeping naked, and his duvet cover was around his waist. The side of the bed you had been asleep in when he’d shut his eyes was bare, the duvet cover askew from seemed to be you leaving.

He rolled over and picked up his phone, cursing at the low battery from not charging it last night. Then, he sat up in bed, letting the sheets pool at his waist and rubbed his eyes, trying to wake them up. His eyes were dry, probably from the weed, and his throat was dry, probably from the alcohol and the sex.

The sex.

His mind flipped through it in a series of images, like a slideshow on double time, the sight of you naked below him filling his brain. The thing about drunk sex was that you could remember the overall experience, the general highlights, certain specific moments, but it wasn’t like you could pick through it and remember each detail. But Harry didn’t even need the details to know it was fucking incredible.

Fucking you was literally a dream come true.

What wasn’t was the other half of the bed being empty, especially considering it was only eight AM.

He listened to the apartment, trying to decipher if he could hear you moving around. Usually he could hear your footfalls, considering how small and cheap the place was. But it was silent, meaning either you were still asleep or you weren’t home. Most likely it was the former, since it was still early and you usually slept late after a night out.

Although he didn’t know how you were the night after sex. And when had you gotten up from his bed?

More importantly, why had you gotten up from his bed?

Logically, he knew it was probably to avoid a weird interaction, but it was more weird for him to wake up alone and not know why. To not know how you wanted to handle this. Because his sober mind was increasingly realizing that although last night’s events were sensational, they were on the whole an utterly horrible idea.

The two of you lived together, for Pete’s sake. You were practically best friends. You still had half a year worth of a lease.

He groaned, his chin dropping to his chest as he took a deep breath. He could do this, he told himself as he kicked back the covers and slid his legs out of the bed. He could handle this.

So he put his phone on its charger, slipped on a pair of joggers, and went to find you.

What Harry didn’t know was that in the next room, you were wide awake. You had tried to fall back asleep after you’d crept out of his bed at six AM, and you had for a while. But then you woke up and the reality of last night came crashing back through your brain and you groaned, reminding yourself how fucking stupid you were.

Sure, Harry was hot.

That didn’t mean you had to fuck him, you idiot, you told yourself. He was your roommate, your friend. Not someone to sleep with. And yet, here you were, your thighs sore from his hips crashing against them and your body smelling like sex and his cologne.

You heard his door open—it was a small apartment after all—and your heart stopped for a second. You waited for the sound of his footsteps, praying he would just walk to the kitchen and not stop at your room. Listening closely, you heard him pause outside your room and then continue into the kitchen, where you heard the refrigerator open and close and then the kettle humming as he started a cup of tea. A part of you sighed, but the other part of you remembered that you had to see him eventually.

Why were you hiding, anyway?

It wasn’t like you could avoid him, and what did you have to avoid him about? Sure, you’d seen his naked body, sure he’d seen yours, sure you’d had mind blowing sex. That didn’t mean anything.

Right?

“Shit,” you groaned softly into your pillow and decided you would stay in your room until the last possible second. You never said you weren’t a coward.

Unfortunately, an hour later the desire to pee was overwhelming you and you couldn’t wait any longer. So you huffed out a sigh, threw on a pair of pajamas and pushed open your door, taking a tentative step into the hallway, trying to gauge where in the house Harry was. You’d lost track of him during a scroll through Instagram and couldn’t quite place him anymore and it was making you nervous.

Then, you heard the floorboards creak.

Your head whirled to the side, your eyes meeting his. He was standing not two feet away, looking at you with messy hair and wide eyes, a cup of tea clutched in one hand. “Hi,” you managed to say. “Bathroom.”

All he did was nod. He nodded as if this entire situation was somehow normal and completely not fucking with both of your brains.

So you strolled down the hall to the bathroom and shut yourself inside. If he wanted to pretend like this was normal, you could do that, you decided. You’d give him normal.

For the next two weeks, that was exactly what you did. You were the picture of normalcy—you pretended like nothing had happened, just made jokes in the kitchen and joined him for study hours and brought home takeaway for the two of you on Thursday night as usual. However, you couldn’t ignore how things had changed between the two of you. There was this…air between you. Charged with sexual tension that you couldn’t ignore, mixed with a hint of awkwardness and uncertainty that had you both on edge. Gone were the playful squeezes to your sides and you swatting him upside the head when he was annoying. Gone was any unexpected touch, in fact. It was like the Cold War in your apartment, a détente on both sides.

It was excruciating. So much so that you’d found yourself wondering if you needed to move out, which was a stupid idea considering it was mid-way through the year and you adored your apartment. It would also probably be more awkward to break the lease agreement than keep it, you decided.

So instead, you stayed, and you pushed through the uncomfortable moments and spent more time in your room than ever before, the living room a space you avoided unless you had to be there. Harry did the same, a look of almost panic on his face whenever you walked into the kitchen in the morning for breakfast. Was the idea of being in close quarters with you really that horrible sounding?

Apparently, it was.

Two weeks after the night of your greatest mistake, the two of you ended up meeting up with your friends. In fact, the exact same set of friends who you’d been with at the house party two weeks prior. You’d ended up walking over to Mariah’s apartment together, a case of Whiteclaws tucked under Harry’s arm. You were rambling about your art history course and he was nodding along, offering the occasional thought. It felt decently normal, and you were hoping it would last through the night.

At first, it did. But then, more and more people started showing up—some people in the debate club with Mariah, a few from the club soccer team with James, the entirety of Lilah’s a cappella group, and then some people you and Harry had each invited. The result was a packed apartment, the music blaring from a portable speaker, and alcohol bottles and plastic cups littering every surface. There was the faint smell of marijuana from when some people went to smoke in Mariah’s room, and it felt comfortable.

You were talking in a group of yourself, two of your friends from a summer internship you’d had, Harry, and Wei, a guy Harry knew from freshman year who had stayed close with. It took everything in your body not to let your gaze linger on Harry, the cut of his dark green t-shirt close to his body and his black skinny jeans gripping his thighs. His hair was a mess, as it always was when he’d had a couple drinks because he ran his hands through it nonstop. His green eyes were sparkling as he listened to a story Wei was telling, his full body laugh sounding in your ears. It was torture being this close to him and there being a wall between the two of you.

“Hey,” your friend Deliah said, her soft voice pulling your attention back to her. “You and Harry okay?”

She hadn’t been there two weeks ago and you hadn’t told her about what had happened. “Yeah, we’re fine,” you told her with a slight nod.

She studied you for a beat longer, but then seemed to accept the response. “I’m going to go get another, you want anything?”

“No, go ahead,” you answered, raising your still half-full glass.

Ronnie, who stood next to you, said she’d go along and then Wei pulled away and followed them, saying he needed another beer and wanted to find one of his friends and say hello, and suddenly, it was just you and Harry. You and Harry and both of you were fairly drunk and you couldn’t stop looking at his lips. The memory of how they felt against yours pushing its way into your brain and suddenly overtaking your every thought.

What was worse was how he was looking at you. He was watching you, something you knew because you knew him, knew what every one of his glances meant. This one was backed by thoughts, it was the result of him thinking about you and watching your face for something. What, you didn’t know. But you couldn’t take the way his eyes were trained on your expression, the feeling of his gaze on your skin. The distance between you felt like it was shrinking and you felt like you could smell his cologne even though in reality you couldn’t, and you wondered if your heart was pounding in your chest because of the alcohol in your bloodstream or him.

You couldn’t stand there next to him, you decided. You simply couldn’t.

“I’m going to get some air,” you said, pushing yourself off the wall. “Back in a second.”

He may have said something, but you were gone before you could hear it, threading through the crowd towards the patio door. It was a tiny patio, just enough space for a set of chairs and a narrow table, but it was enough. It was empty and the music was quieter as you shut the sliding door.

You could breathe out here, and you did, resting your cup on the railing and looking out at the street. Mariah’s apartment was nestled closer to campus, a bit more of an expensive place thanks to her parents and a high-paying summer internship. Distantly you heard the chatter of people walking on the street towards frat row, the honk of what were probably Ubers picking people up and dropping them off at parties.

Slowly, you inhaled, trying to calm the fast beat of your heart. Your thoughts drifted back to Harry, though, and how you had just looked at one another, had studied each other, both knowing that you couldn’t continue you like this. Something had to give and you didn’t know what it was. You didn’t know what to do. Mariah had tried to talk to you about it, but you’d pretended like it was fine because you didn’t want her meddling. You knew she would try to talk to Harry and then it would become some big thing for all of your friends to know about, and you didn’t want that. You just wanted it to be solved and done and over with. You didn’t want all of these feelings in your chest or these thoughts in your head, you didn’t want to think about this anymore.

You didn’t want to think about him. You didn’t want to think about how good he’d felt, about how you wished it could happen again, about how you’d had fucking dreams about him, about how every time you heard his voice it sent shivers through your body because it reminded you of the way he’d said your name, rough and deep and rumbling in his chest.

And then you heard it: your name, in that rough and deep voice. “Y/N.”

“I want to be alone for a bit,” you said, not even turning to face him.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, obviously ignoring your words and instead shutting the sliding door behind him.

It was quiet now, and because the balcony was narrow he ended up standing right next to you, his elbow mere inches from yours as he leaned on the railing. “Nothing,” you said with a sigh, the lie bitter on your tongue. “Nothing’s wrong, Harry.”

At first, he didn’t say anything, just let your words float in the slight breeze. But then, you heard the crinkle of his thumb pressing into his cup and you knew he was fidgeting, thinking about something, and you knew he was going to break that silence. “Did I mess everything up?” He asked, so soft you barely heard it over the music from inside.

That make you turn your head, eyes meeting his finally. “It’s not your fault. I was there too, we both are responsible.”

“Then, did we mess everything up?”

You sighed, searching for the words. “I don’t think we messed everything up,” you told him finally. “But I don’t know if it can be like it was before.”

“Do you want it to be like it was before?”

His words made your heart jolt. “When we were friends?”

“Aren’t we still friends?” His words were so soft, so full of emotion, you wondered if this was the kind of conversation to be having right now.

“Yes,” you answered. “But…”

“Nothing more,” he finished. You nodded, and both of you were silent for a beat, letting the truth settle between you two. It was the first time you’d even acknowledged that anything had happened. “I don’t want…”

You turned to look at him and saw his tight his jaw was set, how his eyes were trained on the street in front of the building. How he could barely look at you. “H?”

When he turned to meet your gaze, his eyes were glassy, and you realized he was nearly crying. “I don’t want to go back to how it was before,” he said, words broken in his throat. “I want…I want more.”

That made your mind grind to a halt. “You—what?”

“Please don’t make me say it again,” he whispered.

You realized he didn’t know. He didn’t know how much you felt for him, how much the night you’d spent together had absolutely destroyed any semblance of an ability to pretend like you weren’t into him, that you hadn’t had a crush on him for ages. He had no fucking clue. “Harry,” you said, reaching out and brushing your fingers along his forearm, “I want the same thing.”

His eyes widened, gaze falling to where your fingers touched his skin and back up to your eyes. “You do?” You nodded, a smile spreading across your face that he quickly mirrored. “Have we been absolute idiots?” He asked, turning on his heal so you were facing one another fully. Then, he reached up and ran his forefinger across your jawline, a shudder running through your body at the feeling of his fingers on your skin.

“I think we might have been,” you answered, ducking your head ever so slightly so that his finger ran up to your mouth, brushing across your bottom lip.

He cleared his throat when you dropped your jaw ever so slightly, just enough for his finger to press in-between your lips, a ghost of a touch. “Can’t even think when you’re looking at me like that,” he mumbled, words that same roughness you remembered from your night together.

“Right back at you,” you told him.

He stepped closer to you, closing the distance. “We’re such idiots,” he murmured, hand moving to cup your jaw, his fingers brushing under your ear.

“Such idiots,” you agreed.

And slowly, he closed the space between you two, his lips brushing yours hesitantly. But the second you felt his mouth slot between yours, you moved closer, pressing your body against his and your arms winding around his waist to hold him close. His other hand brushed down your side and the grip made your skin sing, finally being close to him was everything you needed. It healed the ache in your heart that had lingered ever since that morning, that morning when everything had gone so wrong.

His lips parted and he pulled away ever so slightly, just enough so your foreheads stayed touching.

“Why’d you leave?” He asked, his breath on your lips.

“I got scared you would regret it in the morning,” you replied. “I didn’t want to be there when you did.”

He chuckled softly, a slight shake of his head. “I didn’t regret it,” he told you. “I thought you did.”

“I’m so stupid,” you said, one of your hands moving from his back to encircle his wrist that held your face. “I’m sorry for leaving.”

“It’s okay.” He pressed his lips to your nose so sweetly your knees just about gave out. “Got you in the end, right?”

You hummed an affirmation and leaned up so that your lips could reconnect, kissing him with a passion you’d been seeking for two weeks. And when he kissed you back, the tips of his hair brushing your skin and his fingers pressing against your skin, you sighed, finally feeling settled once again. You’d missed this—him, being this close to him. Somehow, that one night had made you permanently miss him.

He’d truly done a number on you.

“Wanna go home?” You asked between kisses, loving the soft moan that feel from his throat at the thought.

“As long as I wake up to you still next to me,” he replied.

“Promise,” you said, kissing him once more. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The two of you ended up keeping the apartment for the rest of the year, your stuff slowly ending up in his room because the mattress was more comfortable, and eventually your old room became a shared study room. It was where your desks ended up and you’d study there together in the evenings or marathon study sessions on the weekends, music playing from a speaker between you two. Most of the time, you ended up making out, though, and occasionally having sex on one of your desks or on the floor because frankly you couldn’t keep your hands off each other. The sexual tension that had been there that first night had lingered, and it made it so you two truly couldn’t stop touching each other.

It drove your friends crazy, all of them yelling at you whenever you started making out at parties, reminding you that you were in public and you could hold off until you were home, thank you very much. And Harry just would kiss your temple and whisper in your ear about what he wanted to do to you later, and you’d pinch his bum to remind him that he wasn’t the only one with tricks up his sleeves.

Harry had never fallen in love with someone so fast, but with you it was easy. You had been one of his favorite people before you’d started dating, but now it was like you were truly the most incredible people in the world. He’d wake up with you snuggled into his chest, hair tickling his nose, and he’d get a kiss before you left bed since your class schedules started at the same time most days. You’d make his tea just like he liked it and rubbed his back when he got sick after a big night out, and when you laughed at one of his corny jokes your entire face would light up, a beaming smile that made his whole body ache. You were so gorgeous is physically hurt sometimes because he couldn’t stop staring at you, absorbing just how fucking perfect you were.

It was funny, because dating you wasn’t all that different from being your friend. He still got all the shared dinners and movie nights and hilarious stories the morning after a night out, but now he got to hear them while cuddling you on the couch, your head tucked against his neck. And when you teased him about how much of a boy he was (his snapback was your favorite target) you’d kiss him to make him stop pouting. But he was happy. He was so fucking happy with you.

He was thinking about all of that while you sat on the couch together, his head lying in your lap as you read a book for class, your fingers running through his hair absentmindedly. He was watching you, something he did often and you’d grown used to, and suddenly the overwhelming desire to finally tell you how he felt hit him like a truck.

And unlike previous attempts, he couldn’t stop himself.

“I love you,” he said, the words so simple and sure that they made you stop reading and look down at him.

“What?”

“I love you,” he repeated, drawing out the last word and tucking his face into your stomach, peppering kisses over your shirt. For some reason, he wasn’t nervous, knowing you’d say it or not and either way it was okay—he wasn’t expecting you to necessarily be ready. He just couldn’t hide it anymore.

He knew your mind was turning but he just kept kissing you, knowing the action would calm your anxious thoughts. “I love you too,” you finally said after a beat, and he looked up at you.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, you idiot,” you answered, setting your book down on the couch and smiling at him. “Wasn’t expecting to tell you quite like this, though.”

“How were you planning to tell me?”

You shrugged, rubbing a circle on his forehead. “Dunno. Something more monumental, I guess? I know you like all those romance movies, so I thought maybe something like in one of those.”

He adored the fact that you wanted to make it special, that you’d thought about it, but he just shook his head at you. “I don’t need it to be monumental,” he told you, brushing his fingers along your chin. “This is perfect. You’re perfect.”

“Shut up.”

“Never,” he said, sitting up and grabbing your hips, swinging you onto his lap with your laughter raining down on him. “Never going to stop telling you how perfect you are.”

He hooked his fingers on your neck and pulled you in for a kiss, one of those ones that made your thoughts all mushy and his heart pound in his chest because sometimes the way he felt about you just made his whole body go silent except for his heart. Or, at least it felt that way.

“Love you,” he mumbled against your lips, eyes catching yours.

“Love you more,” you replied, kissing his nose softly.

“Are we going to be one of those couples that is constantly competing over who loves the other person more?” He asked, nestling his head in the space between your shoulder and neck, settling there as your fingers swept through his hair. You wrapped around him like this was his favorite place to be.

“Probably,” you answered simply, a tender kiss to the side of his head. “Now, does this mean you’ll make dinner tonight? I’ve got a paper to edit.”

He laughed into your shoulder, picking his head up to look at you. “You make it sound like I don’t make dinner practically every night.”

You shrugged, a playful smile on your face. “You’re just better at it.”

“False, but I’ll take the compliment.”

“God, your ego has got to be massive now,” you mumbled, and he laughed, smile stretching across his face and dimples poking out.

“Alright, go start on your essay and I’ll cook something for us. Sound good?”

You beamed at him. “Perfect.” You bounced off his lap, grabbing your book and heading for your old room. “Love you!”

The words were called over your shoulder and Harry smiled at how perfect they sounded on your lips, how easy it was to answer back simply, “Love you more,” at your receding figure, the thought gracing his mind at how he’d like to be saying those words to you for a very, very long time.

HI I HOPE YOU LIKED IT!!!!!! COME TALK TO ME IN MY INBOX AND PLEASE REBLOG SO MORE PEOPLE GET TO READ/SEE THIS!!! XOXOXOXO LOVE YOUUUU

[bruhstories]

Dazed and Confused

Summary: You and Connie have been friends for ten years, crushing on each other like a bunch of idiots who can't confess their feelings for one another. Until you go on a trip with your friends. Pairing: Connie Springer x Fem!Reader Warnings & Content: 18+, language, oral sex (female & male receiving), unprotected sex, weed smoking, alcohol consumption, f l u f f Word Count: 4.2 k

A/N: I got so pissed at that last anon that I finished this oneshot quicker lol. @fiaficsxo here it is!

You loved parties. Not the loud music and thick smoke, not the booze and smell of vomit, but your friends. Every time they gathered at someone's place, your heart fluttered, filled with happiness and content and long-lasting memories.

Connie had the brilliant idea of spending a week in the mountains during your spring break, and you wasted an entire night searching for the perfect cottage to rent. Luckily everyone was down with his suggestion, the only problem was how you'd sleep. Historia obviously wanted to share a room with Ymir. Mikasa and Eren were an item now, so they'd have to sleep together. Armin wanted to try his luck with Annie, so no one objected to that. Jean declared that he wanted to bunk with Connie, like the two eligible bachelors they were, and that left you and Sasha to share a room together. You didn't mind it, in all honesty you loved Sasha with all your heart — but you secretly hoped someone would pick up on your feelings for Connie and let you sleep with him. You weren't that lucky.

You packed your bag the night before the trip, obsessively ticking everything on your list and double checking every item and pocket. It was ready, with one item missing — the white lace babydoll smoothed on your dorm bed. You chewed the pen cap, debating whether to bring it with you or not. You bought it for special occasions, but you haven't had a dick appointment in a long time, and you doubted you'd have one this week. With a shrug, you decided to bring it — you never know what might happen. Nighttime passed quickly and you soon found yourself all dolled up, albeit still sleepy from all the tossing and turning, excited to make more memories with your friends.

The train station was packed with people, especially students who went back to their hometowns for the break, and you were relieved to find Armin and Mikasa there. You three were always punctual, followed by Jean and Annie. Eren, Sasha and Connie were always late, which is why you told them the train leaves at 7 am instead of 7:30. It was a dirty strategy, but no one wanted to miss such a fun opportunity because of those lazy fuckers. And lo and behold, they decided to appear at 7:15.

"That was some good thinking." Jean shook his head, hand sympathetically placed on your shoulder.

"I'm only glad you guys rolled with it." You laughed without noticing the way Connie stared at you, and even he didn't understand exactly what he felt. Was he grumpy because he hated morning, or was it Jean's hand on you that irked him?

"It's not polite to stare." Sasha pulled Connie out of his thoughts.

"I wasn't staring, I was looking." Connie rolled his eyes, gripping the handle of his suitcase a bit too tightly.

"I just don't get it why you don't tell her you like her." The girl popped a bubblegum baloon, proceeding to chew it very loudly.

"Are you kidding me? She obviously likes Jean. Look how she's laughing!"

Sasha placed an arm on his shoulder, a sheepish smile on her face. "You, my friend, are a dumbass."

"Takes one to know one."

To say that your friends were loud during the train ride was an understatement. They didn't really care about the nasty glares other passengers shot at them, opting to talk, sing, eat and practically embarrass themselves. But two hours later you arrived, and the fresh, crisp air of the mountains was a blessing. You didn't regret coming, all of you deserved a break after all the exams, studying and all-nighters you guys pulled.

"We could visit the military museum!" Armin suggested, but Connie scrunched his nose.

"We came here to get high, drink and spend time together, why the fuck would we visit some old ass building?"

"I'd like to go to the museum." You awkwardly smiled, earning a 'see?' from the blond. Mikasa, Eren and Annie backed you up, and since it was a democracy, you ended up leaving your bags at the cottage and touring the small town to find the military museum. The building wasn't massive, and inside it was dark, with crimson carpets and dim lights. It was actually quite a romantic atmosphere, had it not been for the weapons and armours displayed in glass cases. Connie watched you intently, taking in every movement, every flinch, every hair tucking, every scrunch of your cute nose. You absorbed the information, hungry for knowledge. This was something you and Connie didn't share — yes, you were down to drinking and smoking, but you were also eager to learn and study, while he always preached how 'you can always retake an exam but you can't relive a party.' He wasn't stupid by any means, but unlike you, Jean, Armin and Mikasa — who alwaysstudied and never skipped lectures — Connie would wing it and somehow end up getting better grades. His strategy didn't always work, and sometimes, when you were in college, he'd ask you to tutor him. Now you were second year undergraduates, and while you were studying different subjects, you still made time for each other.

"That's a nice, uhh..." Connie squinted, "...shotgun."

"It's a musket." You chuckled, your fingers accidentally brushing his as you turned around to face him.

"Shotgun, musket, same thing."

"Actually, muskets are muzzle-loaded and fire a single bullet, but shotguns pack multiple pellets in one shell." You explained. "I'm sorry, you're probably not interested in my ramblings."

"No, no, it's... interesting. I just wasn't expecting you to know so much about guns." He rubbed his nape and smiled at you.

"Well, I do study history, in case you forgot."

"How could I forget that?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" You awkwardly elbowed Connie. Why was it so hard for you to just tell him your feelings? Oh, right, because you've been friends for ten years and if he didn't like you back, it would only ruin a great friendship.

"It means you brag about it so much it's kind of hard to forget." He told you, quickly realising just how insulting that sounded.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know that's how you felt..." You sighed, eyes darting back to the weapons.

"No, I didn't- forget it." Connie shook his head. Well played.

Back at the cottage, with enough food and booze to last the group a month, you decided to stay in your room for the rest of the day. It wasn't the first time you had embarrassing moments with Connie, but this particular one made you anxious to be around him. Did he really dislike you that much, or was it just friendly banter? If you were to ask him, you could find out, but every scenario in your head had a bad outcome, so avoiding him for now was the smartest choice. Sasha pleaded with you to spend the evening in the living room with everyone else, but you brushed her off, telling her you weren't feeling quite well.

"Text me if you need anything." She told you before leaving. It was immature to act this way, you knew that all too well, but it wasn't like Connie cared, right? You eventually decided to go downstairs after finishing a long episode of your favourite tv show, your stomach begging for nourishment. As silently as possible, you tiptoed behind the couch. The hallway was dim, the sun had already set, and the only lights were the ones from the wide TV screen in the living room where your friends were watching some corny horror movie. You could cut the suspense and tension with a knife, and when you dropped a teaspoon, everyone jumped.

"Sorry, sorry! It's just me!"

"Jesus Christ, Y/N, you almost gave me a heart attack." Jean got up from the floor and walked behind the couch. "How are you feeling? Sasha said you're ill."

"I'm fine, don't worry." You picked the spoon up and threw it in the sink. "It's just a headache, I'll sleep it off."

"Good, we need you here." The man wrapped an arm around you. "You're missing how Connie's crapping his pants at this shitty movie."

From the outside it would seem like you and Jean were a couple, but the truth was far from it. You two grew up together, his family was friends with your family, and what you had was nothing more than a brother-sister relationship. Jean's little remark earned a disgruntled look from Connie, you quickly picked up on that, and so you playfully jabbed him in the stomach.

"Connie's crapping his pants? You're the one who almost had a heart attack." You grinned.

"Oi, that was only because you dropped your stupid spoon. I was invested in the movie."

"Mhm, sure you were."

"Hey, you sure you don't want to join us?" Mikasa waved at you from the living room. You pondered over her question. Perhaps it wouldn't be too awkward to sit with them.

"Alright, sure, why not?"

"Come, sit next to me." Sasha shuffled to the side, but what she really meant by that was 'sit next to Connie', because she shuffled to the otherside.

The following two nights were surprisingly quiet, all you did was play board games, watch movies and walk around the town taking pictures. The tension between Connie and you seemed to dissipate, and you both forgot the unpleasant interaction you had on the first day. But on the fourth night, that's when shit hit the fan. Annie and Armin left for a date, and Eren and Mikasa wanted to spend the night alone in their room, leaving you, Sasha, Jean and Connie unsupervised, bored and tipsy. There was absolutely nothing good to watch on the TV, and you almost wanted to scream when your friends wanted to play truth or dare. It was one of those games you despised, because the whole point of it was to put the players in uncomfortable situations. And you didn't like being uncomfortable, unlike your friends.

"Jean, truth or dare?" Sasha beamed.

"Dare, duh."

"Alright, I dare you to switch roommates for the rest of the week." She sipped her blackberry cider.

"Okay? So, I'll stay with Y/N, then."

Good lord, if looks could kill, Connie's would annihilate Jean and Sasha off the face of the Earth.

"No, no, you'll stay with me. Y/N will stay with Connie."

"Eh? Why does your dare involve us?" You asked, confused and curious of your friend's proposal.

"Because." She shrugged. "Don't pussy out."

"I'm not pussying out. A dare's a dare." Jean scoffed. "I'm gonna go take my shit in your room and shower."

"Y-yeah, I'll go bring mine, too." You got up, using this time to hyperventilate alone. What the fuck was Sasha even thinking? Was this some stupid joke? But your friends wouldn't harm you, so why would she suggest such a stupid thing?

You took a quick shower before curling up in the bed, blankets covering you from neck to toe. Connie wasn't back yet, and you didn't want to go after him, that would just be odd. You were hoping you'd fall asleep before he returned, to avoid any unnecessary fuss, but just as you closed your eyes, the door opened. Maybe you could pretend you were asleep? He struggled to find his pyjamas in the dark, stumbling over furniture and knocking things down, and you turned the bedside lamp on to ease his search.

"Did I wake you up?" Connie bit his lower lip, and through the dim light you watched the way his grey eyes glistened, the way his short brown hair was ruffled, and how the sage green t-shirt hugged his toned abdomen.

"No, no, 's alright. I wasn't sleeping. I can't exactly fall asleep." You clutched the blanket at your chest as you shook the intrusive thoughts away. Connie was your friend, damn it, there was no room for romance between you.

"I can sleep on the floor if you want."

"Oh, God, no, it's... stiff."

"Um, yeah, it kinda is. Alright then, I'll jump in the shower real quick before going to bed." He stumbled into the bathroom and you really wanted to fall asleep now.

But you couldn't. Every time you closed your eyes, Connie's face popped in your head. So much for resting. You tossed and turned on the mattress, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in, but nothing helped. It didn't take long for him to finish his shower, and you mentally chastised yourself for not falling asleep when you felt him shuffle under the same blanket that was covering you. For a minute, you didn't utter a word, you barely breathed, afraid to disturb the silence in the room.

"Are you asleep?"

"Nope." You heard the click of Connie's phone and turned around. You couldn't see him, but you could hear him.

"Do you wanna talk about something? Until we fall asleep, I mean." You suggested.

"Hmm, sure." He turned on his side and you felt his breath fanning over your cheeks. You were too close to him. "Actually, d'you wanna smoke?"

"Aren't the others gonna be mad if we smoke without them?"

"They don't have to know. Besides, you and I never smoked together." Connie was already up, rummaging through his backpack with the flashlight of his phone. "And then we can talk as much as you want."

"Alright, I'm down."

You laid on the floor, your head next to Connie's as you looked at the ceiling, smoke leaving your lips. He took the joint from you, fingers touching yours and you blushed, the haze of the weed melting your worries away.

"Do you want me to skip the song?" Connie asked, and for a moment you forgot there was a song playing.

"No, I like it." You confessed. "I didn't know you liked Led Zeppelin."

"There's lots of things you don't know about me, Y/N." He passed you the joint.

"Okay, tell me something else I don't know."

"I like it when you randomly say historical or scientific facts."

"Didn't you say I brag too much about it?" You took one final drag before you stubbed the joint out in a makeshift ashtray filled with a bit of water. By this point you were high as a kite, every trace of rationality gone.

"That doesn't mean I don't like it." Connie smiled and you could feel it in his voice. "Now you tell me something I don't know about you."

"I can't sleep with open doors. It freaks me out." You sat up, a breeze blowing through the window sending shivers down your spine. "It's a bit cold, do you mind if I close the window?"

"Go ahead."

You got up and picked the ashtray up but before you could close the window, you stumbled over a chest of drawers, the ashes mixed with water spilling over your t-shirt.

"You okay?" He quickly crawled to you, concern written all over his face.

"Yeah, I'm just clumsy." You laughed it off and waved your free hand. "I'll go get changed, I should have a spare shirt."

But you didn't have a spare shirt. All you had was that stupid white babydoll, and anxiety seeped through your veins. You couldn't exactly show up in that in front of your crush. And you didn't want to ask him for a shirt either. Fuck it, what else could you do?

You peeked out the bathroom door and saw Connie back in bed, lazily scrolling through his phone. God, this was embarrassing.

"You look like you've seen a ghost." He laughed, but when your facial expression didn't change, he frowned. "Y/N?"

"Um, so, I didn't have a spare shirt and- Jesus, this is awkward." You opened the door and his eyes widened. "Is it alright if I sleep in this?"

"Oh, I get it now." Connie scoffed.

"Get what?"

"You were hoping you'd share a room with Jean, right?" He sounded almost disgusted.

"Excuse you? Where did you even get that idea?" You slammed the bathroom door shut, arms folded across your chest.

"I'm not stupid, Y/N. I've seen the way you two act. Do yourselves a favour and just fuck already."

You were speechless. Completely reactionless. The weed amplified your anger, but his words brought tears to your eyes.

"You... you fucking asshole! You think I brought this for Jean? I brought it for you!"

"Eh? M-me?" Connie was confused, and you were pissed.

"Yes, you. Jean's like a brother to me, oh my God! Ew!"

"Wait, so you and Jean are not in love with each other?"

"In love?? Connie, how high are you exactly?" You walked closer to the bed, arms still crossed.

"But- Fuck, I am stupid." He shook his head, the memories of you flirting with him flashing before his eyes. "I fucked up, didn't I?"

"A bit..." Your muscles relaxed and you sat on the mattress. "Really, Connie, I... I like you. A lot. But you're always giving me mixed signals."

"That's because I always thought you liked Jean!" He threw his hands in the air in exasperation.

"No, you're the only one."

"Huh, guess I've really been dazed and confused."

Calloused fingertips ran across your hips leaving goosebumps in their trail. Your hands roamed his back and the way Connie kissed you was better than any high you've ever experienced. He was touch-starved, and you were just as needy. His knee found its place between your thighs and you moaned when it barely brushed your cunt.

"I've been dreaming for this moment for as long as I can remember." Connie breathed into your neck, the hot breath tickling your skin.

"Me too, you blind bat." You laughed and he turned you over, hovering over you.

"'M sorry I didn't notice quicker." He kissed you again. One hand travelled lower, pushing your underwear to the side before he pushed two fingers between your folds. "Fuck, you're so wet."

"Well, at least now I don't have to finger myself thinking about you." You whimpered with a grin.

"Oh?" Connie arched a brow. "Is that what you've been doing?" He curled up his fingers and you threw your head back with a moan. "I thought you were a prude."

"T-there's lots of things you d-don't know about m-me!" You replied back between oh’sand ah’s, imitating his words from an hour ago. That only earned a sneer from Connie, his head dipping between your thighs. "Wait, what are you do- ooh fuck!"

His tongue lapped at your cunt, fingers pumping in and out of you, and you completely sunk into the mattress, moaning his name over and over again. You gripped the sheets, flexing the muscles in your legs as you squirmed and thrashed. Connie stopped and you almost crushed his skull with your thighs at the empty feeling. He pulled your underwear down and shoved the cotton panties in your mouth.

"Don't wake everyone up, Y/N. You don't want them knowing what a little slut you are, do you?"

You shook your head and Connie went back to circling your clit with his tongue, adrenaline rushing through your entire body with each lick, each suck. Tears of pleasure pooled at your eyes, nose and cheeks red from the thrill of your incoming orgasm. The way he was sloppily eating your pussy and moaning while doing it drove you insane, and within seconds you came undone, thighs trembling with delight. In fact, you were so sore you had to push his head back, begging him to stop so you could return the favour.

"You taste so sweet." Connie licked his lips. You don't know what possessed you to pull him into a kiss after you removed the makeshift gag, but he was right, you were sweet.

"Can I...?" Your eyes drifted down to his twitching cock, your voice soft and quiet.

"You wanna suck it?"

"Yes."

"Later. Right now, I wanna fuck you."

Connie gave you no time to protest, his elbow pushed one of your things to the side, the blushing tip of his cock grazing over your overstimulated clit, up and down your slit. Inch by inch it disappeared into your cunt and he let out a satisfied sigh. You bucked your hips, manicured nails digging into his shoulders with each thrust.

"Shit, you're so fucking tight!" Connie growled, head lowering to kiss you. You could still taste yourself on his lips and that only made you clench your spongy walls around his cock. That seemed to please him, because he rocked his hips harder and faster. "You like it?"

"Oh, God, yes!" You gasped, beads of sweat forming on your forehead as you clawed his back.

"Fuck, I want you to ride me." He gripped your hips tighter and turned you over. You tried your best to get in the new position without letting his cock slip out of you, and when you finally adjusted yourself, it was a whole new challenge. Gravity pulled you down, and his tip brushed your cervix, your eyes squinting at the slight pain. "If it hurts, stop-"

"No!" You cried out, your hands resting on his chest. You bounced up and down, the uncomfortable feeling slowly replaced with pleasure. Connie's hands traced your thighs as you rode him, another wave of heat flushing through your core. His palm met your cunt, thumb circling over your clit. "I can't c-come again!"

"Yes, you can. And you will cream on my cock."

The disgust words worked like magic and you flexed your thighs, bouncing faster, head thrown back, hair cascading down your back. "You're so beautiful, Y/N."

"Connie, I-" The words stopped in your throat, the pressure too much for you to handle.

"You what?"

"I'm- oh, God!"

"Atta girl!" He praised you when he felt your silken walls relaxing and your thighs quaking. The second orgasm was so intense you let yourself fall over his chest, dizzy and tired. You thought he'd give you a break, but Connie wrapped an arm around your back, holding you in place before giving your oversensitive cunt a few more thrusts. "Now you can return the favour."

You mustered up some strength to get up and kneel in front of the bed, between his legs.

"Please don't come in my mouth." You asked him before wrapping your pretty lips around his cock.

"Gotchaah-" Connie choked on his words when he felt himself in your hot mouth. You bobbed your head up and down, cheeks hollowed and eyes on him. You didn't break eye contact when you pulled away and spat on the tip, hand pumping his cock to smear the spit. "Hot." He mumbled before you went back to sucking. You felt the throbbing, tightening your lips around him and picking up the pace. "Y/N-"

It all happened in a flash — Connie yanked your hair and pulled your head back, thick ropes of milky white cum shooting all over your face and neck.

"Eew!" You scrunched your nose, hand under your chin to stop it from dripping down the floor.

"What do you mean ew? That's, like, a billion kids!"

"Actually, a fertile man produces around-"

"Don't start. Do not." He pressed his index finger over your lips. "Let's get you cleaned up."

You woke up sore, especially between your thighs, but damn, was it worth it. Connie wrapped an arm around your waist, mumbling something about how pretty you are, but you assumed he was still sleeping — or still high. The sun shone through the blinds and you squinted, annoyed by the brightness, and so you turned around, watching the way your crush snored peacefully.

"Cute." You smiled and planted a kiss on his forehead, waking him up. "Oh, I'm sorry!"

"Why?" Connie rubbed his eyes. "Waking up to you is a blessing."

You couldn't hide the tinting of your cheeks and the grin on your lips. "I didn't think you were the romantic type."

"There's lots of things-"

"I don't know about you. But I'd like to know those things. If you let me, of course." You bit your lower lip, eyes filled with hope.

"Can I be your boyfriend?" He sat up, his eyes serious.

"I thought you'd never ask."

Okay, so maybe Sasha knew a thing or two when she dared Jean to switch roommates.

You walked into the kitchen after getting ready for the day, with Connie following behind you. Everyone was eating their breakfast, and Jean instantly dashed to you.

"Connie, bro, take me back. Sasha's leaving crumbs all over the bed! I can't sleep like that!"

"I can't, man, I wanna spend the rest of the week with my girlfriend." He sneered and you elbowed him.

"I forgot to mention Jean's overprotecti-"

"Your what? Hands off my sister from another mister, you creep!"

"Creep? You're the one who was sexting someone's sister last night." Sasha chimed in, mouth full of cereal.

"Thanks, Sash." Jean rolled his eyes. "For real, how did this happen?"

"You see, mate, when a man and a woman love each other-"

"Nope. I will not hear this."

[un2-verse]

BILLY — Kim Taehyung (1)

》 News of a Sadistic Serial Killer nicknamed “Jigsaw” is spreading around town like wildfire… the nickname stemming from the puzzle piece he cuts from every victim’s body. No one knows who he’ll trap next but in a town full of delinquents and criminals, it could never be you. Right? 《

pairings: john kramer!taehyung x female reader

warnings: dark themes, angst, yandere, murder, torture, self harm, suicide, stalking etc.... (will add more when i know lol) although it is rather innocent in the first couple chapters(?) so idk it could be slow burn but i guess we’ll find out as i write it >< ,, it’s my version of saw if saw was a fucked up love story lol. Please don’t read if any of the topics mentioned trigger you!! 18+

this fic is exactly that, fiction!!!! the au does not represent the characters mentioned irl......

synopsis: you end up lost on the other side of town, where you cross paths with a handsome stranger, kim taehyung, only.... are you a stranger to him?

[a/n: daffodils represent; love me, sympathy, desire and affection returned...]

word count: 3k

series masterlist

part two

——————————————————————————

Hiding behind a mask was something you were accustomed to. Your friend group and family were clueless to the torment you endured from simply existing. You were confident your masking had convinced the world you were happy with yourself. Unbeknown to you, one other person saw straight through your façade.

You wanted to end your life.

He needed you to cherish your life.

Nothing looked familiar. The café you frequented was nowhere to be found. Your usual hangout was most definitely not on the side of town you found yourself in. You felt anxiety slowly curl its way around your body, you were frigid. You tried and tried but couldn’t find it in yourself to run.

You lived in the more friendly part of town (so to speak) – where houses were colourful, gardens pristine, warm-hearted neighbours who would treat you like family and white picket fences are what surrounded you. That was your norm, sure, you weren’t exactly loaded but you weren’t exactly poor either. It was a healthy balance in the middle. That’s not to say you hadn’t lived or seen this side of town before.

Your Mother and Father had grown up on this side of the fence. Two young people brought up in the rougher, more unfortunate areas. Your Mother was tough; she looked like a naïve, weak girl, albeit that was not the case. She was strong willed, used to life on the streets and doing anything she could to get money to make sure there was at least some food on the table. While your Mum was the leader, your Dad was more of a sheep. He was easily influenced and was dragged into the wrong crowd (had his fair share with drugs and street racing). That was their life for a few years till they crossed paths and your Mum helped your Dad get back on the right track.

They didn’t tell you much about their childhood and adolescence but they told you enough to make you appreciate what you have and to always work hard for it. To stick with the right people, be wise and conscious of your decisions. Be kind to those around you.

Your family owned a garage; your Dad was the head mechanic. This was the sole reason you were here. You knew it wouldn’t be simple when you agreed to go to this side of town to get a few bits for your Father’s shop. However, you didn’t expect it to be this difficult. How could you be so stupid? Why didn’t you just ask Hoseok and Yoongi to come with you like your father told you to? Or at least tell them where you were… yet you decided today of all days to be stubborn and venture on yourself, knowing full well how unsafe the area was. There were rundown businesses on either side of the road, beggars at every doorstep; drug dealings happening in broad daylight, no one even trying to hide it.

You felt your phone buzz in your pocket, you took it out and sighed a breath of relief once you’d read the texts.

14:37— From Papa: U ok munchkin ??? Did u get the stuff ?

14:39— From Papa: its ok if u didnt. Yoongs rang said hes got majority this morning lol so be safe n get home soon . Love u

14:40— To Papa: ohhh ok pops, i couldn’t find the shop anyway lol i’ll head back soon, love u too x

*LOW BATTERY*

“Fuck, trust me to forget to charge the bastard.” You rolled your eyes as you stuffed the phone back in your pocket.

Muffled shouting was heard around you. People ran across the street, bumping into you as they ran past. You gathered yourself and moved further down the path. “Great!” you exasperated, “honestly I’m so fucking stupid! Yoongi’s gonna kill me for this, I knew, I knew I should’ve told him I was coming over here but no,” your head was hung low as you dragged your feet across the pavement, “maybe I could tell Hobi, he wouldn’t be as angry right? I’m sure he’ll come,“ A sudden scream ripped you out of your chuntering. You whipped your head to the right, you could make out some figures bustling about in front of you, a group of men were quite clearly fighting… your anxiety struck you and you held your breath as you saw a man pull a knife from the waistband of his sweatpants. All thoughts and common sense seemed to leave all at once. Statue like, feet stuck to the ground. You watched on as the group rushed towards the brown haired man, you scanned his figure: tall, broad, confident… he exuded an intimidating aura even when you were this far away from him.

How could someone be so sure of themselves? It was one against five, surely the loner had no chance?

The glistening of the knife brought you back to your senses. Fucking hell. How do you always end up in these situations when you’re alone? Why me? Why? Good Lord, I need to run. Just as you were about to leave, the group who were arguing charged past you; one gripped his side as another supported his weight. Holy fuck, did he stab him? you stood frozen, yet again, your mind raced a mile a minute. Panic bubbled in your chest.

“You okay there Doll?” His voice was deep, velvet-like. It flowed so smoothly you doubted it was real, it was so soothing like it had wrapped itself around you, embracing your body. You heard his footsteps before he planted himself beside you. His shoulder reached the top of your head, his hand brushed yours. Swallowing your nerves you dared a glance up. He was fucking breath-taking, like a fallen angel. The stranger shot you a small smile that you would’ve easily missed had you not been staring at his features… a blush crept up your neck as you nodded. His smile slowly twisted into a smirk.

Cute, Taehyung thought to himself. Couldn’t help but adore the way you slightly trembled under his gaze, the way your hands gripped and twisted your sweater paws. Almost like a puppy. He cleared his throat and reached his hand to yours, “Sorry, I should’ve introduced myself. I’m Taehyung.” you took his hand into yours, apprehensively you greeted him, “I’m Y/N.”

“Ah, Y/N. I haven’t seen you round here before, you new or something?” Taehyung cocked his head to the side, his eyes seemed to stare right through you.

“Uhm, I don’t live here. I live over the other part of Town… I was just grabbing some stuff for my Dad but, my phones about to die. I have no idea where I am or how to get home, I’m sorry, I promise I didn’t see anything!” a deep chuckle cut you off, Taehyung smiled and beckoned you to follow him.

“Come on Y/N, you’re not suited for this side of Town, I’ll walk you back. A pretty little thing like you, you’re easy prey to these guys.” your feet fell into a cautious pace behind him, he glanced over his shoulder, “hurry up Buttercup, I don’t bite.” Taehyung flashed a boxy grin in your direction, which caused you to speed up ever so slightly.

You were unsure how you felt about letting a complete stranger walk you home, Yoongi would definitely kill you for this. Especially with the recent news of some serial killer named ‘Jigsaw’, Yoongi and Hoseok had been very stern and their usual, overprotective selves when the news had broken out. “It’s on every headline Y/Nie! No more leaving the house on yourself, you need to go anywhere you ring either of us. Got it? Don’t talk to anyone you don’t know either. There’s some dodgy fucks about recently.” Although, you loved them dearly, sometimes their protectiveness was a...little overbearing. You already felt suffocated from your parents (you didn’t need it from your best friends as well). They were happy and believed you to be too; but that was exhausting, faking happiness. You had a constant façade, acted like a happy normal teenager with a happy family; when that was far from the truth.

Drowning. That’s how you’d explain the way you felt. Breathing was difficult and brought you more pain than it was worth. Growing up was tedious, you had grown differently to your peers which only brought ridicule and embarrassment for you. You had struggled with your speech (sometimes you still do), you often stuttered, mispronounced words, the list was endless. That was one of the first reasons you were a castaway. As you grew, the ridicule worsened. Verbal abuse turned physical from your classmates. They made you feel like you were a waste of space. The names they called you, you soon started to believe them. Ugly. Weird. Freak. Stupid. They took root in your brain, slowly they grew and grew till your head was overgrown with twisted, rotten weeds.

Eventually, you sought comfort in blood. You didn’t care that it hurt you; you were almost happy to feel pain. Like you deserved to.

By age 14, you had started to skip school. Only ever there for exams and a couple of art classes you had with Jeongguk. He was what you would’ve called a best friend, he supported you and was by your side till you left school. He went away to college and like always with school friends, you drifted apart. Nevertheless, he still texts you now and then to check in.

Although you were (once) close with Jeongguk. He never knew of your inner demons, the same with Yoongi and Hoseok. You didn’t want to feel like a burden and worry your friends when they had shit to worry about themselves.

Why devastate flowers that flourish beautifully with weeds that manage to twist their way around every crack?

You had walked for a few minutes now, having chatted absentmindedly about anything and everything. The roads still didn’t look familiar to you and you just wished they did, you didn’t want to be away from your home any longer, your feet were starting to ache, your phone was on 10% battery and it was fucking cold. You just wanted to be back in bed tucked up watching Lady and the Tramp or 101 Dalmatians for the millionth time. You felt safe and content when you indulged in your comfort films. Far away from the real world and wrapped up in the false reality. They easily distracted you and that's when you truly felt at peace. Your mind was always too busy thinking about how cute it was when Tramp calls Lady, Pidge or how in love Pongo and Perdy were.

Majority of the time you fantasised about having a love similar, but then again, why would you wanna make yourself vulnerable like that? Is the risk of being hurt (more than you are now) any good? Of course it’s not. Fuck that, life isn’t nothing like those shitty romance films or novels… It’s real and painful.

As you and Taehyung rounded the corner, a little cafe caught your eye, a dainty blue and pink building. Fairy Lights strung up around the windows, you could see a handful of people inside, busy sipping their drinks and chatting away to one another. ‘Aroma Mocha’ hung above the doors. It looked so cute and simple. Your previous thoughts left your mind as quick as they had come. You wanted to go inside, it had an enticing atmosphere.

Taehyung hadn’t realised you’d stopped walking until he couldn’t hear the soft thud of your footsteps behind him, he turned as he called out to you, your eyes still fixed on the cafe. He chuckled to himself, “Fucking adorable, like a kid at christmas,” he walked back over to you. “Hey Doll, you wanna go in?” He felt his heart quicken when you looked at him with those pretty eyes, “We’ve plenty of time to get you back before it’s dark angel.” You answered him with a nod as you turned your head from Taehyung to look back at the alluring little cafe.

Not a second had passed before Taehyung grabbed your hand and pulled you across the road to the entrance; you ignored the warmth of his hand as it intertwined with yours; you ignored the way your tummy erupted with butterflies. Taehyung had stopped to hold the door for you, you murmured a small, “thank you,” looking up at him, the heat that crept up your cheeks making your face resemble that of a doll’s he thought to himself. Once he ushered you fully inside, he placed his hand to rest on the curve of your waist as he guided you to the back corner of the room, where a quaint table for two was unoccupied, a little pot of Daffodils sat atop. How fitting...

Taehyung was quick to pull the chair out for you to take a seat, you pulled it in as you sat down and sent a shy smile his way, “I’m sorry, I know we just met Taehyung but this place is so fucking precious! I hope I’m not bothering you, if I am we can just carry on walking or, I could ring a Taxi? Is this weird? Oh god, I can’t believe--”, Taehyung threw his head back as he laughed, a sound that seemed to wrap its way around your soul, twisting around your heart in the nicest of ways, it was almost like a killer to the weeds taking over your body. A temporary release. You felt like you could really breathe in those short seconds of his laughter.

“Angel, if you were bothering me, I’d have kept on walking. That, or I would’ve called you a Taxi myself, it’s no problem honestly.” You ducked your head as he sent a wink your way, fuck sake Y/N get it together! Why are you acting like a fucking schoolgirl?

“Well I uh, appreciate it so, yeah thank you?” You don’t know what to do, you’re here with the most gorgeous person you’ve ever laid your eyes on… yet you have no clue if what you saw was real, did Taehyung stab someone? Could someone have had the knife who wasn’t Taehyung? Was he even the person you saw in that altercation? Did you imagine everything that had gone off?

Before you had chance to overthink it, a light bubbly voice greeted your ears, “Hi! Welcome to Aroma Mocha, I’m Jimin and I’ll be your server today. Is there anything I can get you?” Jimin held his gaze on you as he flashed you a friendly smile, Taehyung turned around at the sound of his best friend, “Oh, Tae! I wasn’t expecting to see you today, what are you doing here? And who’s this pretty little lady?”

“This is Y/Nie, she was in the neighbourhood so we thought we’d nip in for something to drink before I take her back to hers.” you sent a warm smile to Jimin which he gladly returned, “I’ll have my usual and can you get Y/Nie a Strawberry Iced Tea? Thanks man.”

Once Jimin had disappeared to make your drinks, you shot your eyes to Taehyung, “Uhm, how’d you know I like Strawberry Iced Tea?” Taehyung didn’t even look in your direction as he scrolled through his phone, eyes glued to the screen. A minute passed by and he’d still not acknowledged your question so you let it slide, it wasn’t that big of a deal right? Your mind drifted. Your fingers rested atop of your lap, hidden from the sight of onlookers, picking around your nails as anxiety flooded your body. You felt like you were about to suffocate. You shouldn’t be talking to anyone, you shouldn’t let anyone close. You were only going to fuck everything up in a heartbeat. It’s only natural. Self deprecating thoughts devoured and made their way through your veins, poisoning yourself further; your whole body felt as though it was alight.

Jimin brought you your drinks, placed them carefully in front of the pair of you as you both said your thanks.

The click of Taehyung’s phone being locked and the clearing of his throat brought you back to your senses. “The drink I ordered for you is popular here so, I assumed you’d like to try it. You wanna talk about what’s bothering you?” your eyes shot up to meet his, your head tilted a little to the left as your tongue wet your lip, so puppy like...

You stared incredulously, “I don’t know what you’re talking about Taehyung.” You leant forward slightly as you wrapped your lips around the straw and took a sip.

Taehyung saw the way you sucked your drink up through your straw, his eyes darkened. Thankful to have worn sweatpants that day, he shifted himself discreetly, “I’m not stupid Angel, I know what you’re doing under the table. I’m here, so talk to me. I’ll listen to whatever you gotta say.”

You stuttered as you wracked your brain for something to say, “I-I only met you like forty minutes ago, I don’t even tell my friends what’s wrong. Not that there is, everything’s fine.”

You met me just short of an hour ago, he thought to himself, “You don’t have to lie to me Y/Nie…” he grabbed your hands that were laid near the cup of your Iced Tea. His thumb rubbing circles onto the back of your hand. You looked small and fragile, like the Daffodils on the table; one little pluck and you’d be ruined. He wouldn’t admit it to you just yet but, Taehyung fucking loved how delicate you seemed as you sat across from him.

How easy it would be to take your life away. How easy it’d be to pull those weeds up that are poisoning you, torturing you every single day. He shook his head, as he cleared those thoughts. No, only Y/N can make that decision. I’m just going to help her choose.

Live or Die.

You visibly winced, “You don’t know me. Think whatever the fuck you want about me, it doesn’t matter.” your eyes flashed hurt as you went back to picking your skin. You knew it, this whole encounter was too good to be true. A complete stranger (well acquaintance technically) had just presumed shit about you, the fact he was right is what hurt more. You didn’t want anyone to know how you were feeling. Or how you were dealing with it.

You couldn’t exactly tell him to piss off, you still needed his help home and so you tried to distract yourself from the unsettling gaze that watched your every move. You let out a breath as Taehyung went back to his phone. Your eyes drifted as you picked up the local Newspaper, your eyes skimmed over the headline, ‘Jigsaw Traps Continue’. Taehyung noticed you staring at the front page, and chuckled, “you scared of Jigsaw Angel?”

You shook your head, why would you be scared of some nutjob who’s targeted criminals and drug dealers? You’re a nobody. “Of some psychopathic puppet?” if anyone did anything to you that would threaten your life, it would be you. Taehyung just laughed in return as you skipped the article and skim-read the other pointless stories.

You were fucking clueless as to who he was while he knew every little thing about you. He had watched you for months… His precious little Y/Nie… Oh how silly you were, taking your life for granted.

You hated yourself that much, you were willingly marking yourself up. Tainting your skin… oh your skin, how fucking beautiful and soft it looked, even with all the scars it still looked perfect… Taehyung wanted nothing more than to whisk you away and lock you inside with him. Forever. He didn’t want anyone touching what was his.

He knew you wore a mask when in public, too afraid to show your real self. Little did you know, he wore a mask himself...only he wore it to better other people.

He had a plan.

And you’d soon find out.

Let the games begin.

[copias-thrall]

How would Mary goore react to hurting someone he genuinely cares about? I absolutely Love your writing!💕

Hello, nonny! Thank you, I love this ask!

This was going to be  alist, but it got away from me! 😅 

Enjoy 😘 

It wasn’t anything big.

Just a few of Mary’s favorite beers (the craft kind—not the shitty beer he drank on his shoestring budget), some of that chronic shit you’d scored and have been saving for a special occasion, and a VHS box set of horror movie classics.

***

Mary comes in and out of your life at will, and that was something you accepted—knowing he was As Is or not at all. And honestly—no, really—you liked that. You had your own shit going on, and being Mary’s expected caregiver was NOT something you wanted to add to that list.

(If someone else wanted to try to tame him and pick up after him, well…kudos to them. Less work for you.)

Mary showed up on your pivotal days and he rubbed your feet and always invited you out to trivia. You'd held him when he was coming down from a bad trip and listened to his grievances and gave him a place to stay when he was persona non grata at his own. And in a way, that made you always feel like #1 in Mary’s world…and that was good enough for you.

***

A few months ago, Mary had been lying on your couch, picking the label off his beer bottle.

“I’m gonna be away for a bit,” he’d said.

“Oh?” you’d responded as you’d mashed the controls on your gaming controller.

“Yeah. I mean, I’ll be around…but I got some shit going on.”

You’d paused your game.

“Bad shit?”

He’d waved you off.

“Neg. Just tryna get myself out there. Signed up for open mics and shit.”

He’d shifted, his long legs receding from around you and folding under him.

“So, like…I got my job at the bowling alley…but nights and weekends are kinda shot.”

You’d tried not to let the disappointment show on your face. You supported Mary’s dreams, and that meant not making an issue that he was finally trying to do something about them.

This wasn’t against you. It was for him.

When you’d taken too long to respond, his face had scrunched.

“But if you want—”

“It’s fine, Mare,” you’d said as you’d made yourself smile. “This is important to you, so it’s important to me.”

You’d unpaused your game.

“Just don’t expect me to not beat this game without you.”

He’d grabbed the controller out of your hands with a snarl, causing you to cry out when you died.

“Fuck the game.” His hand had fisted your shirt. “Give me a night to remember.”

You had. Twice.

***

Mary had texted you occasionally over the next few weeks—a few memes, a few drunken key-smashes, a dick pic, and 2 grainy videos of his performances for critique—but such contact was sporadic, and you’d never seen him in real-time. 

He’d blown in one night, five weeks in, with a box of pizza just as you'd been heading out to meet your crew. When you’d told him you’d made plans, he’d looked so crestfallen that you’d caved and canceled on them.

While he’d been there, he’d given you a date in 3 weeks.

“That Saturday I have nowhere to be,” he’d said as he’d chewed. “I can spend the whole day with you.”

You’d been careful not to seem too eager.

“Oh yeah? Should I plan shit?”

He’d crammed the whole crust into his mouth and had given you a doughy grin.

“Why ’’ya think I told you?”

You didn’t know what you’d expected, but when he’d had to bounce 90min later, you were still surprised. (That was hardly enough time to digest!)

“Sorry,” he’d winced. “I gotta be on a bus in 45min.”

He’d left, and you’d been too embarrassed to join your friends who were only just going to the second bar.

Having fun with your man ;) ? one of your friends had texted.

What do you think? You’d texted back before changing into your pjs and turning on Netflix.

***

So maybe you were low-key excited about your day with Mary.

Perhaps you’d spent those 3 weeks figuring out the perfect date—something that said, “I missed you,” without saying “But in a clingy way.”

Beer and horror were two things the both of you were totally into, and you knew he’d be exhausted, so it seemed perfect. You’d bought the boxed set off of eBay and splurged for expedited shipping; you’d borrowed your brother’s old dual TV/VCR from his college days; and you’d forgone your weekly Chinese takeout for the craft beer funds. (And if things got steamy, well…even better.) 

***

A few days before The Date, you’d run into Mary on the bus. You were coming home from a shift, and he was going to his.

He’d brightened and waved you over—as if you weren’t already on your way—and you’d plopped down beside him with a tired grin. You’d told him of the latest entitled asshole, and he’d showed you another clip of him on guitar.

Before your stop had come up, you’d tentatively placed your hand over his.

“We still on for Saturday?”

He’d blinked at you a few moments before grinning.

“Yeah.”

“Should I plan a whole day for us, then?”

His arm had crept around your shoulders before pulling you into him to kiss your temple.

“Yeah, why not.”

***

That morning, you wake up happy. 

Mary will be over soon.

You roll over and grab your phone.

When should I expect you? :-* 

It takes him an hour to respond. You aren’t surprised—Mary isn’t known for being a morning person—so when your phone dings, you grab it up excitedly.

An excitement that dies when you read his text. And reread. And re-reread.

not 2day 

goin upste 2 show 

You blink.

What show? Didn’t we confirm? 

yeah. got me thinkin 

why no show? 

so i chked 

i missed one 

gotta do it 

Rage blooms hot, then cold behind your eyes and down your cheeks.

But you said we had the whole day. I made plans. 

save em 

ths is impt 2 me 

We’ve had this planned for weeks. 

i thot u suprted me 

on a bus cnt tlk 

You send a few more irate texts, but he doesn’t respond, and you toss your phone across the room with a shout of frustration. You scrub the hot tears from your eyes before they can fall.

And…on paper, Mary isn’t wrong. Nothing you had planned won’t keep: movies, beer, takeout.

But…

It gives you a stark look at what you mean to Mary. He gave you this date and confirmed it. He knew you were making plans.

How long was he going to wait to tell you he wasn’t even in the city anymore?

You fight the urge to kick the VHS tapes across the floor, but you open the fridge and grab a beer. If Queen Elizabeth could have beer for breakfast, then it was good enough for you.

Once you’ve downed all eight, you move on to the jug of vodka you keep for cleaning.

When you empty only liquid from your stomach into the toilet, you grab your frozen fries out of the freezer. You roll a handful of the cold ones in your mouth as you wait for the others to crisp in the oven, and once you’ve consumed the cooked ones, you go right back to the vodka.

***

Opening your eyes the next morning is a mistake, so you take a few deep breaths and go back to sleep.

When you wake again, your heart is fluttering, your stomach turns, and it feels like there’s an ice pick behind one eye. Shuffling slowly, you make your way out to your kitchen where you take some painkillers, drink some pickle juice, and eat two slices of plain bread.

The sense that you did something awful stays with you, but you’re in no condition to find your phone and see what you’ve done. Instead, you go back to bed. It takes more deep breathing to settle yourself, but once you do fall asleep, you’re out for hours.

You don’t feel amazing when you swim to consciousness again, but you feel at least like a human being. 

Your phone is dead when you find it under the sink, and waiting the 5 or so minutes for it to charge feels like waiting to face the executioner.

It’s both better and worse than you expected.

You breathe a sigh of relief to see that there are no vague social media posts, and you didn’t drunk dial any of your friends, but…

The texts to and from Mary are ugly.

Apparently, you’d managed not to send him angry texts until he’d sent you another clip of his performing. But then the floodgates had opened.

You’d started with telling him you didn’t give a shit about the show, how he was an inconsiderate ass, and then you'd devolved into incomprehensible, typo-ridden texts that accused him of using you, that you were only something to do when he didn’t have anything better to do, that he was an entitled man-child and if he didn’t apologize, you were done.

Mary’s texts in response range from him being angry at your disregard, to heated retorts you were blowing this out of proportion (and he didn’t appreciate your “ad hominem” attacks), to a cool detachment that this wasn’t working over text and he’d finish this in person.

You put your head in your hands but are too dehydrated to cry.

***

Mary doesn’t text you again during his self-imposed time frame.

You don’t text him either, but that’s more out of self-preservation than pride. There’s no point exacerbating the situation…and you’re pretty sure there’s no coming back from this, so why speed up the inevitable?

The horror tapes taunt you every time you walk by them, and you wonder if you can return them (you can’t). You give the TV back to your brother, and when he asks you how it went, you plaster a smile on your face and say, “Great!” with forced enthusiasm you hope comes across as genuine.

The primo weed goes over to your friend’s house, and the two of you wax poetic all night about existential claptrap as you devour two cheese pizzas and a bag of bbq chips. You talk about Mary without talking about Mary, and you get a heartfelt, “Sorry, dude.”

You beat the video game anyway, but it’s mostly because you needed something to occupy your mind and less out of spite (though that’s there as well).

***

Despite waiting on tenterhooks to hear anything from Mary, you truly don’t really expect to. You know you’d been atrocious, even if it had been prompted by his careless disregard, and you know Mary isn’t really the kind of guy that troubles himself with relationships that are hard.

Not that you’re in a relationship.

So when there’s a knock on your door a week later and Mary’s behind it, you’re genuinely surprised.

You gape through the peephole in shock.

“Fuck. If you’re there, just let me in, ok?”

Fumbling with the chain, you unlock the door and crack it open.

“Mary?”

“You gonna let me in?” he rasps.

You shrug and step away from the door, and he shuffles inside. He looks around like you’ve changed anything (you haven’t), before turning around to face you.

You close the door and stare back.

He folds his arms. “Breaking up with someone over text is tacky.”

What you think is, So you’ve come to do it in person, but what you say is, “Can’t break up if you’re not together.”

He winces and runs his fingers through his hair. 

“Yeah…apparently I’ve ‘taken advantage' of you.”

This…isn’t what you’re expecting.

“I…what?”

“Can we sit down?”

You nod, and Mary sits rigidly on the edge of your couch. You curl up in the chair on the opposite side.

He rubs his palms down his greasy jeans before he speaks.

“I mean…you pissed me off, ok?”

You nod.

“But, like—you weren’t wrong, ok? I kinda knew that deep down, but I’m a dumbass, you know?”

You don’t nod.

“And I kinda bitched about the whole thing…but the resounding response was that I was the asshole.”

He angles his body toward you.

“I guess I’ve kinda been treating you like my best friend that I fuck sometimes.”

Your entire face flushes—you’d always thought you’d maybe ranked a little higher than that—and you duck your head so he can’t see the tears that you blink back.

There’s a swish of fabric, and you startle hard when Mary’s hand is at your chin. He jerks back with a Sorry.

“Shit—that’s not what I…” he blows out a breath and puts his hands behind his head before looking back up at you.

“But you aren’t, and…fuck this is harder than I thought.”

So this is it.

Waiting for him to do the deed is clearly going to be excruciating, so you take charge of this whole shit-show.

“I understand,” you say flatly.

“You do?”

“It’s ok, Mare-Mary. It’s my own fault for reading too much into it. I just…I saw what I wanted to see, I guess. I know you don’t need…” you look down into your lap, “…my shit in your life.

He makes a noise low in his throat, and then he’s squatting in front of you, his hot hands planting on your knees.

“But I want your shit in my life.”

You squint your eyes at him.

“But what I said…”

He grasps your hands in his.

“Pissed me off, yeah…cuz I wasn’t fucking thinking, ok? You’re like one of the only people who gives a crap about what’s important to me. And all I could see was you suddenly…not.”

Anger wells up in you again, and you yank away your hands.

“Weeks, Mary…weeks of you all over the tri-state area, and you thought I didn’t care because of one night?! A night you promised to me?”

He sits back on his heels. “I know…fuck. Ok? At the time, it just felt…like the show couldn’t be rescheduled. Our night could.”

Because you’re what he does when he’s bored.

You curl in on yourself.

“Shit.” He leans forward again. “Fuck, I’m sorry, ok? I’m fucking on my knees here.”

You blink at him. 

What? 

“Please, please don’t break—say we’re done.”

“What?”

“Look, we can go into my shitty fucking psychological profile on why I fuck around later…but right now I need you to know that I knew it was you before I fucking knew it was you.”

You uncurl.

“That…’what’ was me?”

He knees forward and presses your hands to his face.

“The one I wanna spend my free time with. The one whose opinion means the most. The one who was the first person I wanted to share all my good shit with. You’re the one I missed, and—after that awful fucking night—everything felt pointless because I knew I couldn’t come over and jam about it.”

“Mare—what are you saying?”

“I’m saying I’m a fucking dumbass. I’m saying I thought I was pissed at you, but I was pissed at myself for fucking it up.” He sighs. “I’m saying no fucking one was on my side and they all told me to get my shit together.”

He looks up at you with wide eyes, and for the first time, you can see how they’re outlined in red, his subtle crow’s feet more pronounced.

“So, you’re not done with me? I’m not…too much trouble?”

He shakes his head in disbelief. “What? Shit, no. I’m asking you to not be done with me. I’ll give you all the nights you want. Fucking text me, and my ass’ll be here posthaste.” He shifts up, and his thumb ghosts over your lips. “Anything to get you to give me that secret smile again.”

“Secret smile?” you ask while trying to perform the action.

Mary actually blushes.

“Uh…yeah. You get this…” he makes a motion across his face, “…when you’re giving it back to me.” His fingers shove back through his hair as he casts his eyes down. “You don’t give it to anyone else.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I’ve made a study of it.”

You’re a swirl of emotions. Mary’s apologized—has admitted he was wrong and has asked for…more—but you’re still hurt. And embarrassed.

But he’s looking up at you with wet, hopeful eyes.

“Do you…” you start carefully, “…do you know why I got so mad?”

That statement was clearly not what he was expecting, and he blinks at you a few times before nodding and looking down at the floor.

“I made a…uh, commitment…to you. And I treated it like it didn’t mean anything.”

He gives you a look like, Did I get it right? and that’s close enough—even if he’s missing some of the nuance.

You nod. “And I know I…wasn’t…the best.”

His face contorts, and your heart sinks.

“You…” he shakes his head. “You said some awful things…some hurtful shit—and it really got in my head.”

Mary gives you a complicated look.

“Shit that you’d been pissed about for a while.” He traces your knee. “Shit you could’ve said to me…but shit I should have noticed. Fuck.” He presses his forehead into your knees, and you can’t stop yourself from sinking your fingers into his hair.

He takes it as encouragement and presses into you before looking up again.

“I just kinda wanna put that whole night behind us. It feels like a fucking ouroboros of fault. And like maybe I created it. But let’s agree to like…not do that again.”

You look down at him, and his eyes search your face.

“Ok…but what does all this mean, Mare? I can’t…I need to be something to you, ok? More than just your friend.”

Mary nods emphatically, and he takes your hand and curls his into it.

“No more fuck-ups, and no one else…can we start there?”

He’s saying all the right words, but you’re still trepidatious—you know Mary, and he doesn’t like constraints.

“I…just…how can I believe you?”

He shakes his head like he can’t believe you even have to ask. He rises and awkwardly reaches out to touch your face before drawing his hand back.

“Cuz you’re important to me. I care about you, and I don’t want to lose you. Ever.”

And yeah. Ok.

[milkyoomi]

hq boys as things my mom does (or has done)

i’m not going to lie some of these are really specific but it is what it is skdjf

hinata — unironically tries out those diy hacks on facebook. he thinks they're really neat but if it goes wrong, his excuse is that he just wanted to debunk it. like ofc he knew olive oil, in fact, does not get rid of the scratches on your wooden table......

kageyama — tells you to buy fat free milk and then remembers after u get home that it was supposed to be 1% “nothing more, nothing less.”

tsukishima — will go over the lyrics of a song or like a dance ONCE and expects u to get with the program. deadass doesn't understand why u can't keep up

yamaguchi — CONSTANTLY STRESSIN whenever he's in charge of an event like a party. literally sweatin bullets running around the venue to make sure everything is in its place. poor boy can't even enjoy himself bc he has to make sure the night is running smoothly the entire time,,,

daichi — u were chillin in the backseat with noya and tanaka goin stupit goin crazy but u couldn't hear daichi telling u three to chill tf out so he fucking brake checks yall. noya nearly goes flyin while u and tanaka have whiplash.

sugawara — ok this one i know everyone can relate to but he's that person that leaves you in line at the grocery store while he takes his sweet ass time to grab one thing he forgot. u probably end up paying for everything bc he took too long 

oikawa — doesn't care if u don't look good in the pic he will still post it on every social media platform he has bc he thinks he looks amazing rip

kenma — i'm sorey but i think this mf sucks at taking pictures. selfies are ez but like pictures of u? of everyone else? absolute shit. don't get me wrong he's really trying, but he will have like 14 different blurry photos of the same thing and a 3 second video of the ground. refuses to delete them though bc he might need it (he's in denial and embarrassed ok)

kuroo — whenever u guys have fish for dinner he goes out of his way to remove the sharp troublesome bones if there are any before serving it to u. if u do end up choking on a bone that he missed he just tells u to go eat a banana. 

bokuto — was scared when he heard the raiders were coming to town but he didn't know that they're actually a football team

osamu — his food is great, i know, but there are rare nights where he tries to mix it up a little and throw in a little something extra. this time around, it was the seasoning. it smelled great, but the taste was not 100% w u. so u tell him honestly, not in a way to hurt his feelings, but for future reference. will give u an attitude for the rest of the night and tell u to cook ur own food next time. (he still cooked for u the following night)

atsumu — refused to sing at a karaoke party bc he thought it would be rude to steal the spotlight like that oml just say ur shy and GO JJDJKDSK

kita — ur having dinner w the inarizaki boys and chattin w suna and then kita just randomly asks u if u smoke weed. u can't tell if he's asking bc he wants some or if he's asking so he can lecture u about it.

suna — gets upset if you ask if he wants to get food but u aren't paying like why are u offering if it's not gonna be free?? also won't pay if he's the one that invites u out. i mean he does sometimes but uknow.

sakusa — one time he bought the highest strength of zinc supplements since he read that they’re good 4 u. he just wanted to take care of u and gets worked up over keeping the both of u rona free but he didn't know the strength for daily usage is waaay lower than what he got and so u were stuck w a severely upset stomach the whole day. he feels TERRIBLE 

hoshiumi — sings along passionately to his favorite song and talks about how much he genuinely thinks he can replicate the artist's singing style. not a fan if u disagree.

ushijima — i personally like the hc that he has reading glasses, but if he loses them he has his phone held like an arm's length away from his face and types with one finger. also doesn't know how to save pictures so he just screenshots and won't even crop it like ushi pls crop ur memes .

[tobioslune]

liquid courage

Paring: Iwaizumi Hajime x gn!reader

Genre : fluff, comfort? college au kinda, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, Iwaizumi being soft and a simp

Warnings? : implied drinking, (aged up), cursing (from the lyrics), a little smooch 

a/n: This is a draft i started in january but things happened that made me leave it for about like four months lol (if u wanna know what happened while i was writing this you can read it here lol also you could see how i wrote / continued writing it here ) but! im finally finished and im pretty proud of it even though its lowkey all over the place :>> please do check out the song bc it slaps and it’s really good lol okay that’s all for now hope you enjoy <3 (last notee: likes and reblogs are really appreciated!!)

▶ now playing : drunk - dijon 

You and Iwaizumi have been close friends since highschool, and feelings may have been caught during that time. With the reason of not wanting to ruin the relationship you’ve built with him, you tried to brush it off. And like every other trope where you fall for your best friend you expected that he wouldn’t feel the same way.

Surprisingly both of you ended up going to the same university, and you were able to hang out and keep in touch with each other. Everytime you think you’ve set those feelings aside, whenever some romantic tension presents itself, it bubbles up inside all over again. Like an annoying weed that keeps coming back no matter how hard you try to get rid of it. 

School and other work has been pressing on you for the past few months and you just keep getting into a slump. No matter how hard you try, you find yourself in the same place you were over and over again. Iwaizumi noticed this and really tried his best to help but he’s also caught up with a ton of things. 

O baby, I’m lonely and I’m fucked up by myself

 Could uu come here?!  

It was 1am on a Saturday and Mattsun called you. You were working on an essay and it was super unexpected. It was able to shake you from the somewhat trance you were in while trying to think.

“Hey y/n-san I’m so sorry to call you at such a late time and most probably not so nice notice, but is it okay if you pick-up Hajime here at our usual place? Hanamaki and the others have already left and theres a paper I need to take care of, and you’re the only one I could think of.”

“Oh, it’s okay. Did Hajime drink too much like last time?” You think to yourself, ‘How stubborn, I’ve told him last time to be mindful of how much he takes because of his low tolerance’  You found the thought quite amusing.

“He sure has. When will you be able to get here by the way?” Mattsun replies.

“Give me about 15 minutes, it’s not so far from where I live anyways. Can you keep him company for a little while longer?” you tell him. This would be able to get your mind off the stress and exhaustion you’re in hopefully for a little while. Besides you haven’t met him in person for about month so it would be nice to see him again.

“Yeahh I can do that. Thanks again by the way y/n.”

“Suree, anytime. Okay see you in a bit, bye”

“Bye.”

The train stations are already closed at this time, and it would be too much of a hassle to take a cab to and from where he lives so it probably would be best that he crash at your place instead.

You straighten a few things up in your apartment and proceed to grab a jacket, your keys, wallet and your phone, placing it into a small purse. As you closed the door you could already feel a rush of cold air surrounding you.

The walk there was quite refreshing and you felt much better than you did earlier. As you arrived there you could see Mattsun waiting in front. You smiled as you walked toward him. It took him a couple seconds to recognize you as you came into view. 

“Heyy, hope I didn’t take too long” you said as you greeted him with a hug. 

“No, it’s all good you actually arrived faster than I expected”, Mattsun replies returning your smile. 

“He’s inside by the way.” gesturing with the back of his thumb.

“Okay, I’ll go take care of it from here” 

“Thanks again, apologies if it interrupted anything important.” 

“Like I said, it's alright! I got it.” you assure him.

You both bid your goodbyes and you make your way inside the homey bar. There he was, head resting on his right hand and glass of water in the other. You figured he sobered up at least a little bit. 

You let out an amused sigh, “Oh Haj, I’ve told you a couple of times last time to watch it, right?” You took a seat in front of him, leaning your head on your hand. He laughed a little at the statement made. “Sorry y/n, got a bit caught up and forgot.” 

Letting out a low hum you respond, “Anyways, ready to go?” 

“Yeah just give me a moment.” His head was still pounding from the drinks.

I’M WASTING and I’m anxious; I’m fading from myself… 

You placed his arm around your shoulder in an attempt to keep him upright and stable as you walk. Compared to him he was obviously heavier making it difficult for you to even make it to the door, you were basically stumbling out, but somehow you were able to manage and he was at least trying to cooperate even when everything was practically hazy for him in that moment.

---------- 

You fell for him, and little did you know he did too. You’ve known Hajime as reserved, reliable, firm, caring and surprisingly stubborn at times. He knew that if he told his friends and teammates they would tease him and make it more obvious that's why he kept it in a never said a word. 

He liked you, he liked you so much, but sometimes you just seemed so out of reach to him. Loved by almost everyone, you were beautiful, charming and just overall amazing to him. There were times where he really tried to deny his feelings, his emotions, toward you but whenever another guy would be around you he just can’t help but want you all to himself.

--------

As school progressed your schedule became more hectic and your assignments started to pile up. It felt like an endless mess and an inevitable disaster. He saw how stressed you were but he felt a bit helpless because he didn't know what to do. He couldn’t really help you because of your different courses and besides he wouldn’t even know what to do. As time went on your hangouts became lesser and lesser and sometimes you'd even be too busy or even too tired to chat with him. You would try making plans but your group mates would suddenly set up meetings or deadlines would abruptly be sent and given. 

Although he has tried reaching out, because of how busy you were he was left alone with his thoughts and feelings and he tried to make sense of how he really felt. He wanted to avoid thinking of you but that became difficult for him when almost everything reminded him of you…

“They would have liked this..”, “I should probably ask if they ate.”,  “This would be such a nice gift for y/n.”,  “I wonder what they would think of this.”, it just felt like never ending thoughts of you.

---------

When Matsukawa and the rest of the old team from Seijoh offered him to hang out and catch up he couldn't say no. By going he would be able to hang out with them and it would hopefully be a distraction to help get you off his mind. He knew you were busy and in his head he thought that maybe you didn't like him the say he does. You ran circles around his mind and at time he’s just feel so conflicted and confused.

In the end he got wasted, he felt faded, and just wanted to feel ok. He accidentally ended up telling the boys out of frustration that he had feelings for someone which left him with mixed emotions at times. They found this quite surprising because who would get him so hung up and drunk like that.

COULD U COME HERE?! And say u’ll stay the night 

Although you reminded him last time you went drinking to watch his intake you were still shocked that he was so drunk he could barely think straight. The cold air and silence filled the walk and everything in some way felt alright. You felt at peace and his presence made everything feel comfortable even if you were practically carrying him.

He sighs, “Hey I'm sorry I dragged you into this mess I accidentally let myself go back there again.” 

“It's ok, I mean that's bound to happen to everyone at some point I've got you  don't worry it's fine.” you respond.

“Where are we going, by the way?” He asks.

“I'm taking you back to my place, I mean if you don't mind. The subways are closed and the taxis are hard to come by at this time.” 

“Oh ok, it's fine, I mean I have nowhere else to go to anyways and I don't really mind,”  He says with a flustered laugh.

As you keep walking you pass by a convenience store you both frequently used to hang out at when your schedules weren't so busy.

“Hey Haj, we should stop there for a while just so you could sober up a little more. Also I’m a bit hungry anyway,”  you suggest.

“Yeah good idea, besides you must be kind of tired trying to carry me around for this long.”

You both make your way to the convenience store and you tell him to sit outside while you buy something for the both of you.

 Cause it’s been a while, since I've seen u smiling! O baby, could u come down? I think I’m freaking out! And I’m drunk! 

You step inside and the warmth of the shop embraces you. You then proceed to get some meat buns, and two coffees. As you go to pay you take a glimpse outside to check up on Iwaizumi and to your surprise he was already looking at you. You quickly turn away and you feel a small blush attempting to creep up on your face, but you shake the thought away as you make it to the counter.

You finish paying and walk over to where Iwaizumi is sitting and you place the food down on the table. Handing over a meat bun and a coffee to him, you sit down and sigh in satisfaction as you bite into yours. Somewhat comfortable silence fills the space and you absentmindedly process everything that happened.

“So, how was the hang out with the guys? I haven't seen them in so long. You sure must’ve had fun...” You say in the hopes of making things a little less awkward and quiet.

“Oh yeah it was great.” He replies with his mouth still with food, you laugh and he continues after he finally swallows what he was eating.

“Yeah it was really fun, we got to catch up on a lot and they're doing pretty great I must say. You should come next time, I mean when you're not busy. I miss our hangouts, you know...” 

“Is this not a hangout?” You humorously ask.

“I mean, it is but I'm saying we should hang out more when you're not busy and when I'm not drunk.”  He says with a laugh.

“Yeah we totally should.“ You say with a smile.

“So anyways, how's life?” 

“Well I mean I'm doing ok, but overall just really stressed. Work and papers have been piling up and my head has been pounding for like weeks or maybe even just days you know, but I guess I'm doing fine.” Giving a small laugh to lighten the statement.

“Yeah the workloads really suck right now, they're crazy. But I'm here for you if you need anything even if I don’t really understand a thing from your subjects.”

“Yeah, I know.” You say giving him a reassuring grin.

You both take a brief pause when he suddenly brings up an old inside joke you both had when you were younger. You spend about an hour reliving memories, throwing around jokes, teasing each other and laughing a lot.

Sighing into a smile he says, “I really miss this. It's been a while since I've seen you smile like that.” 

“Yeah I missed our hangouts like these, this feels so great and nostalgic in a way.”

And I don’t think I can beat it, I’m paralyzed, I’m terrified of being alone!

You both clean up and start to continue your walk back to your place. All the stress you’ve been feeling earlier feels as if it has left and you feel relieved. As you both near your apartment complex, Iwaizumi stops making you turn back.

“Hey, you okay?” You ask.

“Yeah I’m good.” You then proceed to turn around, but he suddenly continues.

“Listen I need to tell you something, and I need you to promise me that we’re still going to be ok even as friends afterwards.” He says with a slight seriousness on his face

“Yeah, you can tell me anything I promise I'll still stay. I mean unless you're a criminal and you're gonna kill me.” You joke. Moving closer to him you prepare yourself a bit for whatever he would say.  “So what's up?”

He takes a breath, “I like you y/n -san.... and I'm really sorry if you don’t like me after this or if this makes anything awkward or if I made you uncomfortable in any way. I've liked you since high school and I was too scared to say anything because I thought you liked another guy--”

“--I swear even when we were younger there was something about you that just made everyone like you. You were so nice, friendly to everyone, helpful, beautiful, and so much more. You’re captivating to me… and I’m trying to use whatever’s left of this liquid courage to get this off my chest and I think I’m ready for whatever might come next.” 

Your mouth parts slightly from shock because of what he said but it slowly, turns into a huge grin.   

“Hajime, I don't know what to say…” you cut him off before he could say anything, 

“Because I like you too, and I have for such a long time.”

He lifts up his head with hope and a slight disbelief in his eyes, “You do..? You did..?!’’

“Yes..” you say with a small chuckle and a smile plastered across your face. You walk even closer until you're both mere inches away from each other. You take a relieved sigh and make eye contact with him. You wrap your arms around his neck and draw him in for a hug. He places his arms delicately around your waist hugging you back.

He slowly pulls away and cups your face ever so tenderly, pulling you in so that your lips are merely ghosting the others; and he gently kisses you. You felt as if that you were floating on clouds. His lips were so soft and warm it felt so surreal.

You both pull away and he says with a smile, “I've waited and wanted for so long to do that.”

You couldn't believe that everything that happened, actually happened. It felt like a scenario that you would only be able to play in your head. But it was all real and it was all happening. It felt like a dream, and if this were a scene in some cute drama there would have been hearts floating around your head right now, you felt lovestruck.

 Cause it’s been a while, since i’ve thought about the good things, all the bright light things all the good times that we had! It’s been a while, since I made u smile! 

You finally reach your apartment hand-in-hand, sitting down on the couch as soon as you enter. The night was filled with more conversations, laughter and just overall good times. Homework forgotten and disregarded, you let yourself go and have fun. Surprisingly everything felt like it just fell into place. 

You looked at him and maybe it was the alcohol but he was pretty sure he saw stars in your eyes. 

“I can't believe after all this time you're finally and actually mine.” you say.

Whatever magic or fate intertwined and lined you up to this exact moment you just knew that you were forever grateful.

[seancekitsch]

Out of the Rain: a Marko x Reader fic

Warnings: bloodplay goes without saying bc vamp, rough sex, dirty talk, semi public sex, telepathy?? me projecting my music taste on this fic again. drug use, fast and loose use of vampire lore bc when i write i am god and u cannot stop me. also can u tell i have like…. v clear descriptions of the setting like i used to work at the place im describing but its not in california

No one had come in for hours. What's the point of staying open? You dim some of the lights in the store, which is one of three head shops in Santa Carla, but the only one open late. You're not really sure why this is the only store that stays open, why everyone else if worried about the three am walk back to their car on a weekend night. You've never seen anything of suspicion, just sometimes that biker gang watches people shuffle out. That was almost comforting, though. People didn't like those guys, so no one would make you use your switchblade if they were around.

The bright while fluorescent lights of your typical daytime ambiance faded away, and now green light bathes you in the “mood” lighting your boss thought was a good idea. The green lighting reflects off of the glass counters, shining it back at the ceiling and making everything that much more green. It fits, you think with the overall vibe of the store. The stale scent of weed, gently and miserably covered up by some nag champa incense, always burning in at least four different spots within the store. You'd long since gotten used to the smoke in your eyes. The music does everything to add to the ambiance. You always have full control of the music in the shop, usually because no one else is willing to take the night shift in Santa Carla. In fact, most of the boardwalk shops had a revolving door of night shift workers. You never got why, something clearly spooks them that does not spook you. Whether that makes you brave or stupid, you dont know. Jefferson Airplane’s Surrealistic Pillow pumps through the speakers in the store. But I suppose no one knows, you're my plastic fantastic lover.

The rain batters the boardwalk outside, a roar much different than the typical hustle and bustle of drunk teens, of the cliques and crews that come in and out; the few that sit and snicker in the doorway, never entering. Some too afraid to be associated with the implication of being spotted in the shop. We sell jewelry and vinyl too, you always say, when they balk at the idea of being in the same room as a bong or incense.

But then there's the other group that stands and idles in the threshold, also not entering. It's that biker gang. Four guys, a girl, a kid. Maybe he’s the brat of the girl and the one who takes himself too seriously, but maybe not. She looks too young for that. They'd been hovering around quite a bit lately, always after dark. You’d spoken to them, at least the ones that are talkative. The hair metal wannabe and the cute short one. Paul and Marko. You knew the dark haired one was Dwayne, but all he ever offered you was a curt nod and a tight lipped smile, respectful but indifferent. They're nice, not worth the spooky reputation they have. Any time it's not just you at the shop, your boss tries to spook them away. Good thing your boss isn't here tonight, because one of them is prowling around the storefront in the rain. That is, if it's not your spliff induced haze playing tricks on you.

No, one of them is out there. Without his little pack. The cute one. Marko.

You walk over to the door, which you haven't had propped open since the rain trickled in as a drizzle at the beginning of your shift. At least he had enough sense to be huddling under the awning. Fuck, he’s handsome even when he looks like a drowned rat.

“What are you doing out here?” You scrunch up your nose as you ask.

“Y’know, waiting for you to show up.” Wanted a look at that cute ass.

You blink at him. Did he really just say that?

“Okay… well, you know it's raining out there, right?”

“I might,” he offers noncommittally, eyeing the spliff still in the hand that's not holding the door. If it were anyone but him, you'd probably get fired for it.

Why is he just hanging around out here? That's hella weird. His curls are getting matted to his forehead, slick with rain, his jacket starting to look a little sad.

“C’mon in, Marko. It’s too wet out here. You’ll fuck up your jacket.” You nod towards the interior of the shop holding the door open as he passes you.

Wrong move, sweet cheeks.

“What did you say?” What did he mean, wrong move?

“I didn't say anything,” he offers nonchalantly as he thumbs at one of the tapestries on the wall. A garish mess that’s supposed to be the worm from Alice in Wonderland, but it’s distorted by a botched tie dye job of dark muddy colors. Every time you look at it, you assume one of the day workers did it.

“No, you said something.”

“Do you want me to say something?” there's both a threat and an innuendo in his tone. Maybe you do, but you just laugh, a sharp exhale through your nose, and bring the spliff to your lips again as he follows you deeper into the store.

You jump up onto the counter next to the ash tray, easy reach for each time you need to ash.

“So why are you really here?” your eyes narrow at him, kicking your sandal off on the floor where it lands a few inches from his boots. He looks uneasy in the space, like for all the wild shit you assume he’s into, he might not actually belong in it. He sways a little to the music, perfectly in tune with the rhythm. You sway along too, and suddenly he fills the space like he belongs. He just needed someone along for the ride with him.

“Do you ever come around during the day, or just at night because I’m so fun?” You’re teasing him, but it’s a nice easy feeling between you.

“Not really a sun guy,” bullshit, he would look beautiful with a tan, “but I do drag everyone here just to see you.”

“Awww, all for me? Do you have a crush, Marko?”

It’s more than that. You hear the words clearly, but his smile doesn’t move. You kick the other sandal off.

“I can hear you, I don’t know how, but I can. I bet you can hear me too.”

I can. You’re wrong about the tan thing.

You straighten up, mind clearing as you blurt out your next question. Something absolutely stupid.

“So what are you, a vampire or something?” he laughs at you, but his big toothy smile doesn't reach his eyes. No, there's something predatory, extremely dark in his eyes. Otherworldly.

How could you guess?  

“Well, that for one big fucking clue.” You ash the spliff for the final time, leaving the roach in the tray. You would think you’d be more surprised, more upset that you just found out vampires were real, and that you were in the same room as one. You have to say, weirder things are probably afoot in Santa Carla. Murder capital of the world can’t all be from some rowdy teens and a ten year old.

“You do those surf nazis?” is all that leaves your mouth. You kind of hope it was. They were the fucking worst. Racist, misogynistic, destructive. You’d had to threaten them a few times to leave your store on your shift.

“The—? Oh! Surf nazis. Yeah that was us. Ate a few of them.”

“Good for you. I mean— murder. bad. But they were nazis, and now they’re dead. so…” you trail off. Not really sure what to say next, but then you keep going. Remember everything you know about Marko.

“No, no I mean, it makes sense. Right? You and the guys only hang around at night. Aren’t vampires solitary hunters though? I don’t remember Dracula being in a frat.”

“They’re my pack. We take care of each other.” He says it with such fondness and devotion.

You feel a pang of jealousy run through you. You work alone for the most part, live alone, you’ve got friends but they’re all over the place. He belongs to something.

“And you're down with this?” he’s legitimately asking. You nod. You don't really have a choice, you're down or you get eaten, but like genuinely you are down with it. If he was going to eat you, he probably would have by now. There's probably a reason they've been hanging around the store, and in your sightline while you close up. You're putting things together.

“Like really?”

“Well, you haven't made me a kebab yet.”

He shrugs, frowns.

“Could still skewer you on something.”

Laughter erupts from your lips while you roll your eyes, music to Marko’s ears. This is why he took a shine to you, it's easy to get along with you, and you're not one of his brothers.

Something heavy falls in the room, and it's not the haze of the incense. He steps towards you, big blue eyes raking over your body, but always coming back to meet your gaze. He closes the space between you, easily fitting between your thighs; the rough patches of his jacket brushing against your bare skin where your shorts ride up. He leans in, like he's about to kiss you, and against all better judgement, you're going to let him.

You're going to let him.

The record skips. He holds out his hand, more like a gentleman than a biker gang killer, and helps you off the counter.

“Hold on, let me pick out a new record,” you turn without waiting for his confirmation, not at all surprised when Marko follows hot on your heels to the back room. Your boss’ office, the record room. Whatever you wanted to call it. His hands ghost over your arms as you push past the wooden bead curtain to enter the room. You can feel his presence close enough to touch. That's it, right where I want you. There’s his voice again.

He lets you actually pick out a new record. You slide it out of the sleeve and walk it over to the player. The static buzzes and pops as the needle finds the groove.

“Ocean Rain, you heard it?” No. He shakes his head, and you can feel it as he leans into your back.

“Echo and the Bunnymen. They've got a new album coming out this year.”

You turn to face him and his fingerless leather glove clad hands cover your cheeks.

He kisses you gently, tenderly. Not at all the way you’d expect. He’s eager, kissing like there’s something to prove. He licks his way into your mouth, tongue pushing your lips apart and you let him. His arms tighten around you as you kiss, tongues now greeting each other playfully. Your tongue explores his mouth, running along each and every tooth in his mouth. Huh, no fangs, you realize, and maybe he isn't actually a vampire. As if he reads your mind (maybe he does), he pulls away.

“They're, uh, hiding,’ he nods, almost to himself more than you. You nod as well, slow and uneasy, not quite believing him, but he pulls you back into a harsh kiss, more of what you expected. His hands roam your body as yours bury themselves in his curls. Still damp, but long and beautiful just as well. He shrugs the jacket off his shoulders, and his hands only briefly leave you to throw it and his gloves somewhere else, leaving him just in a thin white tank top. His mouth leaves yours to trail lower, kissing your neck. Your pulse point. Fucking irresistable. No, that's definitely his voice. Is this the end? Could be.

“I can smell you, hot stuff,” he moans into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You find yourself gripping onto his shoulders a little tighter, but he lets you sink. He guides you, again more gently than you thought he would; bare knees brushing the threadbare carpet floor before you plant yourself. You look up at him through your lashes and he all but bites back a groan.

“You gonna join me down here?” You lick your lips, waiting for something.

“Nah, I’m gonna let you have a head start,” there's a joke in his tone. You're learning that’s normal for him. He’s silent, or playing jester. It’ll be interesting when you let him fuck you. Shit, did he hear that?

“Quit thinkin’ so loud!” he runs an affectionate hand through your hair. “But yes, I heard you. Glad you're as eager as I am.”

That's encouraging. You take your time undoing his belt, connected to faded and soft leather chaps, not bothering to push them down his thighs before you move to the top of his jeans, teasing your fingers at the skin just above the waistline. He shudders under your touch, extremely reactive. Does he get touched like this often? Or is it just quick fucks? You don't want to think about who else he might be doing this with, focusing again on his body, and all of the offending clothing covering it. You unbutton them slowly, teasing. For a member of the undead, he seems to be out of breath under your movements. The zipper is pulled down just as slowly. You run your palms flat along the bottom of his stomach, to his hips before pushing his jeans down to around his ankles, hooking his boxers on your finger along with them. He’s beautiful, and you can help but stare. Hard, eager, and thick, greeting you with a small trimmed patch of golden blonde curls. You wrap your hand around the base.

You never expected a vampire to whimper, but that's exactly what happens when your tongue darts out of your mouth to lick the head of his cock. Quick, tentative little lick, testing the waters. Your tongue swipes across the slit at the tip of his thick member and his hands animate like you flipped a switch, rising up, going to your hair, rising up again, slamming down against the desk. Your boss’ desk. You lick a long stripe to the underside of his cock, paying close attention to the prominent vein there.

“So good, so good, oh you feel so-” he pants out, hands white knuckling the edge of the desk. Heat pools in your core, loving that he’s so vocal. Fuck, if he could just keep speaking. Your other hand moves to your shorts, sloppily and hastily undoing them and wiggling them down to your knees. You wrap your lips around the head of his cock and sink down on it, taking him as far as you can, until you couch when he hits the back of your throat.

“You look fucking beautiful like that. Please move, Please move, you’re so fucking good at this.”

You do, starting to bob your head up and down on the length of him, hollowing out your cheeks and flattening your tongue against him, cupping and massaging his balls in your hand. Your free finds itself between your legs, rubbing gently at your clit, stirred and encouraged by his praise.

“Does sucking me off get you hot and bothered?” Yesitdoes.

You keep bobbing your head, rubbing your clit, eyes trained on his until his eyes squeeze shut. His cock twitches in your mouth.

“Don't wanna- don't wanna finish in your mouth,” he’s urgent, grabbing you by the chin and pulling your mouth off of his cock. He pushes you back by your shoulders, letting you guide yourself back to lay on the rug. He pulls your loose shorts easily off your legs and settles himself between your legs, too eager to bother with removing his boots and everything.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for so long. Do you know how bad I wanted this?”

“Fuck me, Marko, dont say it. Just do it,” youre breathless under him, wanting nothing more than for him to be fucking you. He pauses.

“I dunno…” his thumb swipes up along your clit, drawing a whine from your throat, “For some reason I think you like it when I say things.”

You nod, knowing words will fail you. And he gives you what you want, lining himself up and sinking into you, groaning as he buries his head into the crook of your neck.

“Oh I knew your pussy would feel like fucking heaven,” he pants against your neck, pressing a harsh kiss to the underside of your jaw. He sets the pace quickly, unmerciful and fast, fucking hard and deep into you. His hands push up your thin tee shirt, and you can feel his sigh of relief when he gets a handful of bare breast. He doesn't have to deal with a bra tonight. You hike your knees up, opening yourself as much as you can to him, wanting him to fill you to the brim. He looks into your eyes while he fucks you, which comes as a surprise to you. Maybe it shouldn't. You wonder what it would be like to be a victim of his. Does he treat them well? Have fun with them like this? Or is he vicious? You don't know if you could picture him like that… vamped out.

“What does it feel like?”

“What?” he thrusts sharply, snapping his hips into you, making you yelp.

“To be fed on, but not to die.”

Are you serious? You hear him in your head.

YesIam. He thrusts like that again, earning an identical yelp, now coupled with your thighs squeezing him around the middle. You're close already, and he can tell.

He nods, a question; You nod, confirmation.

He pulls at the neckline of your shirt, already scooping so it doesn’t ruin, and exposes your shoulder. Somewhere non lethal. His other hand comes up to grip your jaw, covering your neck but being careful not to squeeze it. You hope he bruises your jaw, you realize. A physical way to feel him when dawn comes. He slows his pace to a rocking, grinding into you, staying deep.

Then he bites. Stars erupt behind your eyes, and it feels like your blood has turned to seltzer. Every nerve in your body is in overdrive as you moan and shake and come undone around his cock. You're the kind of girl that comes from the bite of a vampire, apparently. He doesn’t let up. You can faintly hear him moaning against the open wound in your shoulder, and you hope you taste good to him. He licks the wound a few times more, softly, carefully, like he’s trying to soothe you when he finally lets you come down from your high.

When he pulls back to let you see him, his features are gruesome, full vampire with sharp brows and cheekbones, pointed nose even that much more so almost birdlike. Fangs and bottom half of his face covered in blood.Your blood.  He’s panting like an animal after the kill. But he doesn't scare you. Maybe he should, but he doesn't.  It's just Marko, no matter what, and if he wanted to eat you he would have. Several times now. His hand finally releases your jaw, to wipe the blood from his face. He wipes his hand then on your face, covering you in your own blood, hot on his fingers and palm.

“Fuckin sexy,” he pants, voice deeper and distorted. His thrusts speed up, trying to find his own release as your nails dig into his back, maybe making him bleed as well. You feel the rug burn forming on your back, you feel tears in your eyes. It's never felt this good with other guys.

When he comes, he comes with a howl, buried deep inside you as he shouts and shivers then stills above you. Your chest is heaving, trying to regain yourself as his face slowly fades to normal, and he slumps down on top of you. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, near the wound he tore open, now no longer bleeding. He mouths at any bare skin he can find, lazy half kisses as he spreads more mess and blood on you. Your fingers find his curls again, winding them around your digits as you stare up at the sickly green mood lighting bathing the walls of the room.

An hour later, Marko is helping you lock up early.

He makes sure to dump out all of the ashes from spliffs and incense, makes sure the vinyl is all in its right place while you make sure the register and inventory is all in its rightful place and order.

“You’re dangerous, you know.”

“Me?” you scoff, “That rich, coming from you.”

I’d do a lot of things I’m not supposed to for you. You kinda don't want to ask him what he means by that. For some reason that feels like a conversation you shouldn't have tonight. 

He leaves the store before you, holding the door open for you and letting you lock the doors. He slings an easy arm over your shoulder, not bothering to shield either of you from the rain as he steers you towards your car. You can feel the rain cleaning your face, the blood flowing away and saving you the shower you were going to take before collapsing into bed tonight.

“Where’s your bike?”

“I flew here,” he says with that devilish smile, and you're really not sure if he's joking or not. Your arm sneaks its way into his jacket and wraps around his waist, holding him close as he makes sure you get home same. Marko makes you feel calm, in a way you didn't feel before you moved to Santa Carla. How long had he been waiting to make his move? And does this mean he and his brothers would be coming around more often? Maybe being more friendly towards you. Each step towards your car feels heavy; You don't want to go home alone without him, but somehow you know he won't come with you. 

“Will I see you again?”

He grabs your car keys from your hand, and sticks them in the door handle. Of course you will.

Right. You just have to be near the beach at night. You know, where you work.

He kisses you full on the mouth, holding you close and tight, like you could slip away at any second. When he finally lets you go you pull away to be met with his face, full on grinning, his eyes still closed from the kiss. He doesn't look like a killer.

Marko watches you as you pull open the door to your car and more or less throw your ass into the seat.  He holds the door as he gives you one last smile, and says:

“You know, you should never invite a vampire into your life. Renders you powerless.”

And he winks. 

[unbridgeabledistances]

some ian/mickey prompts! (this is not a demand, just some ideas☺️)

• waking up/going to sleep

• cuddling

• domestic scenes in general

• hurt/comfort scenarios

• being in each other’s company (like ur recent fic) and falling in love with each other again

I really don’t know how to describe but I hope these are enough?

<3 ah thank u so much for these ideas anon! i couldn’t fall asleep last night bc i was stressed about a bunch of stuff, so i started to write this little bit of nighttime fluff that seems to fit with your requests:) i hope u enjoy!!

a drabble where ian can’t sleep, and mickey comforts him (can be set as a little coda to 11x05)

--

It was the dead of night at the Gallagher house— Ian was staring up at the ceiling, his eyes trying pierce through the blanket of darkness to count the cracks in the crumbling plaster above him and listening for something, anything, to distract his mind and finally get him to go the fuck to sleep. But it was no use— it was so late that even the usual summer chatter that bubbled up from the South Side street corners into open windows on wafts of summer air had stilled, leaving Ian sweaty and tired and restlessly laying in bed. Ian was more than tired; he was fucking exhausted, his eyes red-rimmed and scratchy and his muscles tense and rigid. Most nights Ian slept well, or slept okay at the least—he kind of had to learn to sleep in any situation after sharing a room with Lip and Carl and Liam for his entire childhood, always plagued with slamming doors and shouting voices. It wasn’t noise that usually kept Ian awake on nights like tonight, it was silence— a deafening, pounding silence that felt like it was crawling under his skin.

He looked over at Mickey, curled tightly on the opposite side of the bed, facing the wall with his arms around his chest and the covers practically up to his chin, the only really visible part of him the sliver of pale skin at the back of his neck that reflected the gauzy moonlight that was streaming in through the blinds. Ian noticed how comfortably Mickey’s face was pressed into the pillow, with even breaths escaping his half-open mouth, and instantly felt a pang of envy. That was the thing about Mickey—he never really had trouble sleeping. Mickey could always drift off the second he hit the sheets, whatever voices that lived inside his head easily quieting when the lights were dim and the world was still. Ian didn’t get it—the voices in his head always ramped up when the lights turned off, always churned and swirled and made him question his entire existence in the stagnant, pitch-black silence— and usually Ian could quiet them, after a little while, but on a night like tonight Ian knew he’d be stuck in the spiral, with his heart racing, until the sun came up. He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, trying to will his body to relax.

Ian could feel an odd sense of panic bubbling up in his throat as he laid there unmoving, feeling suffocated by the heat of the deep, dark night pressing in on him. His legs felt tingly and restless, and his head was throbbing because of how tired he was but the static in his mind kept whirring, like a broken radio set to the wrong frequency. He sighed loudly, letting the air burning in his lungs fizzle out of him, just wanting to penetrate the thick silence. He just wanted to be asleep—he was supposed to get up early to put the coffee on before Lip had a job interview, and then he wanted to go for a jog before he and Mickey had a shit ton of weed runs to do that would jam-pack the entire day tomorrow…

Beside him, Mickey shuffled beneath the covers. Ian froze. Fuck, he did not want to wake Mickey up right now. Mickey was crabby and groggy on the best of mornings, but when he didn’t get enough sleep he was truly a force to be reckoned with.

Unfortunately, Ian’s prayers went unanswered. Mickey drew in a deep breath, rustling under the sheets once more.

“Okay Gallagher, what’re you sighing for?” Mickey’s flat, muffled voice piped up from under his blanket cocoon, low and throaty and full of sleep. He sounded exasperated and deflated, and definitely not fully awake.

Ian let out another long breath, more quietly this time. “Nothing, Mick. Go back to sleep.”

But of course, instead of listening, Mickey aggressively yawned and turned over, stretching to shift his body weight and turn onto his opposite side to face Ian. Ian just remained where he was laying, his head lying limp and heavy on the pillow while he stared up at the ceiling.

Mickey dazedly rubbed his eyes, noticing that Ian was fully awake. Immediately, Mickey shook off the sleep that was clouding his eyes. He stared at Ian for a moment, his eyes wide and searching. After a moment, almost on reflex, he carded a quick, gentle hand through the front of Ian’s hair as he leaned in closer.

“You feeling okay?” Mickey’s voice was distant and drowsy, like he was still half-asleep but trying to will himself to wake up.

Am I feeling okay? There was so much latent meaning wrapped up in that question, and Ian felt a cavernous gratefulness bloom in his chest that this was the way Mickey asked—he wasn’t assuming that Ian being manic was the reason that he couldn’t sleep, but he didn’t rule it out either. Mickey was just waiting for Ian to tell him what he was feeling, what he needed, without assuming anything about Ian’s brain before Ian did.

Am I feeling okay?

Ian swallowed, his glassy eyes still fixated on the cracks in the ceiling that he could barely make out in the dark.

“Yeah. S’not anything to worry about, I’ve been taking my meds. I’m just… stressed out I guess.” Ian could hear the fatigue dripping from his voice as it glided across the darkness.

Mickey was still staring at Ian, his gaze piercing and concerned.

“Stressed out?” Mickey questioned lowly, like he’d never heard the two words before.

“Yes, Mickey, stressed out. I don’t know, it’s fucking stupid, just go back to bed.” Ian sighed in frustration.

Instead, Mickey shifted again, propping himself up on his elbow and leaning fully on his side, looking like a teenage girl at a sleepover who was ready to hear some juicy gossip.

“Well I’m awake now, mouth-breather, so why don’t you tell me what you’re worried about?”

Ian gave a quiet, strangled chuckle. What the fuck was he supposed to say? It just fucking sucked to not be able to sleep, to lie there frustrated with dry eyes and a parched throat, grasped tight in the clutches of whatever worries were lying hollow and dark in the pit of his stomach and not being able to do anything about it.

Ian knew it was stupid, but for the last few months he had been pretty much the only one worrying about keeping things together— getting steady money, putting aside fucking savings, trying to keep the house intact and fill the gaping hole Fiona left behind that Ian still just didn’t fit into right, for the sake of Liam and Franny and Carl now that Lip had moved out. Ian had never really given a shit about money, until he had to start caring about everyone else—and it didn’t bother him, it really didn’t, but now that Ian was caught in this fucking sticky silence, he realized how much worrying about taking care of everyone else was actually wearing him down, grinding away at him bit by bit without him noticing.

He exhaled a heavy, trembling breath.

“Just. I don’t know. Worried about money, I guess? And worried about our job. I know we agreed on guns, and I totally fucking get that now, but I’ve never done a job that’s so… dangerous? And then I’m panicking because what if we make total asses of ourselves with this business bullshit and fail and lose everything, and then we’d be back to square one…”

Mickey just sat there perched on his elbow, listening. He wordlessly reached to press the pad of his thumb to Ian’s forehead, above his eyebrows, smoothing the worry lines and creases that started to bloom there as Ian spoke.

“And I just… I don’t know, my heart’s just fucking racing for some reason tonight and I can’t make it stop.”

Mickey continued to silently run his thumb gently on Ian’s face, tracing above his eyebrow and the side of his temple in a soothing pattern that made Ian’s eyes want to flutter shut for the first time in hours.

“S’there anything I can do?” Mickey’s gravelly, sleepy voice cut through the darkness.

Ian peeled his eyes from the ceiling, and shifted them to meet Mickey’s. He was still staring down at Ian with searing concern, like Ian’s stupid fucking worries were a big deal if they were making him feel this distressed.

“It’s fine, Mick. Just get some sleep.” Ian held Mickey’s gaze for a moment, expecting him to turn back over and wrap the blankets around himself.

Instead, Mickey curled closer, draping a heavy arm over Ian’s waist, followed by a thick and heavier thigh between Ian’s legs, his nose nuzzling into the side of Ian’s neck. Ian froze, just for a moment—Mickey definitely usually wasn’t the one to initiate tender touches of intimacy, but he was half-asleep and he knew how much Ian needed this right now, knew it would calm his racing heart down to a steady beat. Instantly, Ian felt something, some heaviness that was burrowed deep in his chest, dissipate at Mickey’s touch.

“Mick,” Ian said. There was something in his lungs, in his throat, on his tongue. He didn’t know what it was. All he knew is that his heartbeat was slowing, his blood was running through his veins at a normal speed again, and the pressure building in his head starting to dissipate.

“This okay?” Mickey was almost asleep again, and mumbled the words into the crook of Ian’s neck, his breath tickling Ian’s chin.

Ian breathed out with relief, curling a hand over Mickey’s shoulders and drinking in the feeling of Mickey’s warm skin nestled against his, a grounding, solid weight holding him at bay. “Yeah, this is good.”

[mochii0park]

 meraki; chapter 01 I jhs

Title: Meraki

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader / Jin x Reader

Part of series: Waterlilies and Japanese Bridge

Genre: angst I fluff

Pairing: literaryscout!hoseok x writer!reader

Word count: 4.5k

Summary: Throughout your whole life you lived in your sister’s shadow, watching from side-lines as she formed herself into a successful businesswoman with an envying life. Never being able to fill her shoes you gradually understood the meaning of an estranged family and the burden it carried. The twenties began slowly slipping from your grasp which had been embedded with insecurities and longing for fulfilment. Pouring your heart out to strangers with a pseudonym meraki, you began second guessing the decision when an email lands in your inbox.

Author's note: unedited, it's 2am I'll reread it tomorrow

Taglist: if you want to be added to the taglist message me

@namsope32 , @cuteipat , @ofvopemin

Masterlist

Meraki masterlist

< intro | chapter 02 >

Seokjin got engaged and moved to the USA.

Your lanky fingers hover over the keyboard, the reality of the situation still lingering in the air. The send button felt heavy, as if the action would make a shift in your universe. You have already made mends with how things were going between you, but it still felt crushing.

Sucking up the little pride you had left after lying to your friend, you push the button and lock the phone hoping to gain some sanity in your walk back to the apartment. It had been a regular night out with your friends. Coffee chitchat alongside freshly baked cookies which you got as an apology for being late.

Your mutual friends felt the need to notify you of the sudden change in Seojkin’s life, wanting you to hear it from them first. Pushing it to the back of your mind as nothing but an additional fact, you continue through the night with a smile. That lasted until you the rounder the corner.

Seokjin had been your friend through university and even later as you grew up and struggled to make ends meet.  You had been there for him when his girlfriend of five years decided to dump his ass having a shift in her feelings towards him. You mended his heart through late night talks and rides across the city. He was your kiss partner after breakups, picking up your self-esteem and gluing it together. In conclusion, Seokjin was your everything. If only the feeling was mutual.

Days before deciding to confess to him, he blasts your phone with messages about a girl that pulled all the strings in his heart and awoke oceans of memories. Kim Jisoo was his high-school crush with whom he lost contact after entering his last relationship. Reconciling through social media the two hit off where they last left it and suddenly you became the dust under his shoes. 

Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months of not seeing him. With a deeply rooted pain in your chest and a jealousy for the new girl in his life you stepped down allowing Jisoo to consume his being. Afterall who were you than a mere friend, easily replaceable.

The last slap came when you drunkenly confessed, having enough of their roller coaster like relationship. That was the last time you’ve heard of Seokjin’s teary-eyed voice telling you goodbye over the phone. No matter how many times he told you this sounded like the end and the suffering he felt was unbearable; it was nothing compared to the sound of your heart shattering into pieces.

Sehun told you many times that the timing was so off it made him uncomfortable, but that’s the thing about you and Seokjin. Everything was off with the two of you. From kisses to cuddles to nudes after midnight to serious conversations about pineapple pizza. Friends don’t do that, is what you kept telling yourself when the feelings for him slowly grew from platonic to romantic.

In midst of your thoughts your phone rang. Sehun the attachment dealer flashed across your phone. Giggling at the memory of how the nickname came to be, a warm feeling nest itself inside your chest. “Hello?”

“Where are you?”

“I left the Howl Cafe, I’m near home.”

He hums, the sound of the blinker echoing in the distance. “I’m there in five. Meet me at the bus station at beginning of your street.”

There were instances when disobeying Sehun felt like the biggest thrill of your life but right now when feelings you couldn’t pinpoint ran through you clouding your judgement, Sehun felt like a silver lining. As you wait for him to arrive, you can’t help but scroll through your phone in search for that one picture of Seokjin.

The only one you’ve saved after your last conversation. He was leaning against the wall of the bakery, a cigarette hanging from his mouth. His bleached hair fell over his rimmed glasses giving him an emo vibe. It was somewhere around three am when you’ve taken this photo. 

Both of you exhausted from running aimlessly around the city. He begged you to visit this bakery at the top of a hill, assuring you about the quality of their goods. You remember that night vividly, how you would steal a kiss or two in the shadows hiding from the reality. How he would woo you with his terrible French accent and you would answer him in your broken German.

You miss him. You miss him to the point where it physically hurt.

Sehun honks ever so caring about the people sleeping peacefully in their homes. He bursts into laughter at your jumpy reaction making you feel annoyed as you lock your phone. Settling yourself in his car you wait for his I told you so, but it never comes. Instead, he turns on his Spotify playlist clicking on Olivia Rodrigo’s good 4 u blasting it a such high volume all thoughts you had were overridden with the upbeat song.

Sehun had been your friend for the same amount Seokjin was. The two knew each other through a few short encounters, for some reason they never crossed paths for longer than ten minutes. For that you were thankful. The song comes to a finish and Sehun observes you from his seat. The lights of the city painted on the window illuminated your face, giving him a prefect view of your perplexed expression.

“How are you feeling?”

You knew he would ask this question, after all the sole reason you were driving on a highway was because of your damped mood but in whole honesty you didn’t know the answer.

“A part of me had expected it. He talked about marrying her, but he also talked about wanting to drop everything and own a cottage in Sweden.”

“Your taste in men is terrible. Remember Mark? The guy who had so many career goals but couldn’t leave his house because he thought having a life outside work was overly distracting for his oh so important career as IT support at ZARA? Or Mino who was so high you couldn’t recognise him when he dropped the weed after your breakup.” Sehun snorts.

You roll your eyes at him. Surely your boyfriend track wasn’t the best but it’s not like you seek out boys with issues, it seems that they attach themselves to you and you can’t get rid of them without a major heartbreak. “Whatever.”

Sehun stretches forward pulling your favourite chocolate bar out of the compartment, throwing it in your lap. You smile, munching on it as you switch the song to Zayn and Sia’s Dusk Till Dawn.

“I just expected him to inform me.”

Sehun shakes his head. “I am not sure why you expected that. You two haven’t shared one conversation in two months. You’ve asked for space when he told you he can’t choose between you and Jisoo. Plus, that was a dick move to be honest making him choose between his girlfriend and his best friend.”

“Space,” you emphasise,” not utter silence. He didn’t move two fucking blocks Sehun. He moved to a whole fucking country without telling a soul. Our mutual friend finds out through an Instagram story. Fucking Instagram. And I don’t care, he was a dick that started this charade might as well end it.”

By now you were fully shouting, the tears that threatened to spill before now rushing down your face. In this moment you didn’t care much about Sehun’s awkwardness regarding tears and crying, that was pushed aside when he backed Seokjin’s decision and pissed all over yours.

“Y/N,” he whispers, turning down the volume as you whimper, “there is not much you can do. You must respect his decision. You can’t force someone to love you.”

It was your turn to huff at the stupidity of his words. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t go about kissing people. Respect decision? Fuck that. Did he respect me when he made a fool out of me?

“No.”

Sehun exhales knowing that in this case you weren’t in the right mind to have a rational conversation. Seokjin was your weak point, he knew that much. Your emotions began to pour out, leaving you a sobbing mess in his car. 

“Look, I can’t stop you from having all sort of emotions for him. I can only advice you to turn off your phone for tonight and give yourself time to process the information before doing anything you might regret.”

 “I won’t blast his phone with insulting messages if that’s what you think.”

“Good, also don’t eat out your emotions. You can’t stand too much sugar in your system.” 

“Thanks doctor. I’ll just write out my emotions instead.” You say leaning into the seat, closing your eyes as you listen to the music.

“You still write on that blog?” You can hear some amazement in Sehun’s voice, and you know it’s not to mock you but to praise you for managing to stay faithful to one thing this long. You had a reputation for giving up on things in early stages because you couldn’t finish them perfectly.

The rest of the ride was spent with you eating out your emotions with the food Sehun bought from your local fast-food restaurant. Not much was said between you and him as he drove into the night letting you process the whole situation, only dropping you off at home when you felt yourself calming down.

Once in the confides of your room you strip yourself of any pent-up emotions letting all the pallet of different feelings overran you. Taking a pen, you let your heart pour into endless words scribbled away in your notebook. When you’ve felt empty the high gone, you take your laptop opening the site you’ve a long time member of. It came to you on Instagram in a form of a poorly done advertisement. It was a website for people wanting to share their poetry with strangers.

At first, you’ve done what you always do: began self-doubting your poems and their worth. Most of them were written in a spur of a moment when you felt like you would burst from the number of things you felt. But one night, when sleep couldn’t come to you and the pain of losing the person you held dear lingered in the air threatening to choke you; you signed in posting your work. It was raw and you suddenly felt exposed and naked in front of the world.

That’s how Meraki came to be. How your pseudonym became your shield, allowing you to burden it with any thought or emotion you’ve felt. In the online world Meraki was a fierce writer, letting her readers know of the pain and suffering she felt. In real world Meraki was an introverted person hiding herself from anyone willing to come close.

                                                   ____

 It was a hot Wednesday morning when you’ve gotten an e-mail from your sister informing you of her whereabouts. Due to your mother’s work preventing her from traveling, she decided to pay you a visit instead; much to your delight. The days to her wedding were numbered and so was your sanity.

Luckily for you she and her fiancée decided to stay with your parents.

The thought of her roaming the halls of the only place you’ve managed to cover in comfort was disturbing you. It wasn’t that you hated your sister but although you’ve dealt with your own insecurities some parts of the trauma still hung over you.

You’ve managed to avoid her for a good number of days since she landed in Seoul but now a week later you ran out of excuses. That’s how you found yourself sitting in a posh sea food restaurant, juggling your anxiety during the family dinner.

The last time you saw your whole family was at your grandfather’s birthday (which happened six months ago). The event left a bad taste in your mouth after you’ve spent majority of time listening to your sister’ success only receiving attention when she addressed you.

Solar and her fiancée Minho discussed the menu as they skimmed through different meals. You have been so busy staring at one spot that you’ve never noticed the waiter taking orders.

“Y/N?” Solar spoke catching your attention.

“One chicken fillet for me please.” You were so preoccupied with different thoughts you never saw what they had to offer therefore you went with your go-to food.

The moment the waiter leaves the table with the menus, your mother scoffs. “Aish you’re eating chicken again, we’re in an exclusive sea food restaurant and you’re embarrassing us.  “

“Mother, let her eat what she wants.” Solar interrupted your mother’s complaining, switching the topic to her wedding dress. Your mother beamed at the photos she showed her.

It was somehow sad how much power Solar had over your parents. One word was enough to ease them into doing whatever she liked whilst you had to beg and crawl your way and even then, you were no match for her.

You felt severely out of the place. The two talking about preparations while your father and Minho gushed over their new apartment in Tokyo. You sat there in your chair counting down minutes until you could leave. Any other day you wouldn’t bother to attend the dinner but now Solar insisted you showed up. Something about the sight of her family warming her heart, bunch of bullshit.

“How are you doing Y/N?” She asks ignoring your mother as she mumbles under her breath about your bad habits, one being smoking.

You took up smoking in your last year of university when the pressure of getting a master’s degree and balancing your parents had been too much to take in. A lot of your friends decided to find comfort in weed, but you never understood the thrill of it. Rather than spending enormous amounts for just one puff, you could buy a pack of cigarettes and still have money left for some booze.

“Not much, same old same old.” You answered pushing your nervousness away.

There wasn’t much happening in your life. You’ve started a job in a bookstore and spent your free time either with Sehun or Jihyo.

“How’s Seokjin?”

That one question had caught the table’s attention and suddenly you felt a terrible need to smoke one. Your families were acquainted through work, your fathers working together on a project. They had been shocked when they discovered that you and Seokjin had been close friends for a long time.

“He’s fine.”

“I heard he got engaged,” Your mother spoke up,” to Kim’s daughter Jisoo. Ah what a wonderful being that one is.”

“Oh?” Solar gave your mother a perplexed look narrowing her head at you. You played with the glass in front of you, the object suddenly becoming interesting.

“I thought you and he were dating.” Minho joined, telling the words that were stuck on the tip of your sister’s tongue.

“Y/N and Seokjin? Don’t make me laugh. They are worlds apart. Seokjin is so focused on his career while our Y/N thinks writing will make her a fortune.”

Taking a sip of water, you try your best to wash away the nasty words threatening to leave your mouth. Your parents never approved of your career choice not that you even cared about their opinion.

Solar hums pulling her lips into a straight line. “I’ve must’ve mistaken then. I was sure I saw you-“

“Here is your food.”

And that’s how you were saved from the embarrassment of having to explain to your sister that what she saw was imagination playing tricks on her and not you and Jin making out in front of your house. It was awkward enough when she pestered you about it the next day.

The conversation takes on a different dynamic and you breathe out in relief. You were still trying to process the news and talking about him wasn’t helping your soul.  You gather yourself before your façade could fall and mask it with a stoic expression continuing your countdown till desert when Sehun would call you for an “emergency”.

Right on time you think as your phone began to ring.

You pretend to gasp covering your mouth to show concern as Sehun sputtered nonsense. He kept talking about his trip to the gym and how his feet hurt from all the exercise he did while you tried not to show disgust as explained in detail how hit his little finger against a metal device . Solar shot you a worried look as you excused yourself from the table.

“And the award for the best actress goes out to Y/L Y/N” Sehun pitches once you close the door of the restaurant. Shooting a quick apology message to Solar, you jump into his car deJa’vu hitting you.

“I should get paid for spending so much time with you.” Sehun dripped in sweat, his black shirt sticking moistly to his body, hair pushed back.

You shrugged falling into a comfortable silence. Half an hour later he stops at the number 13, the windows of your house distinguishable by the large number of flowers catching last rays of Sun before the night settles.

“That will be 100 won and a Mcdonald’s later when you’re free.”

“Yeah, not happening” you tell Sehun, already halfway out of the car, rucksack slipping from your shoulder.

He raises a brow at you.” I am not your personal driver Y/N. I had to leave my girlfriend to drive you back.”

You scoff as you roll your eyes at him.” I’ve told you to call me for an emergency. There was no picking up included.”

He mimics your words mockingly before pressing the gas pedal leaving you behind him. Unlocking your apartment door, you’re greeted with your dog sleeping in the hallway not giving you a second glance as you pass over him. Haku’s snores echo through the empty apartment warming your heart. The Shiba became your companion two years ago when you were going through a rough patch. It took some time for you to get used to each other but now you couldn’t image not having his snot buried into your business.

Turning on the lights you sit at the kitchen table pulling your leg up to rest your head on the knee. Opening your laptop, you see a few notifications popping up on the sideline about your recent orders. Just when you were about to close the notification center you see one mail standing out. The name Jung Hoseok makes you jolt in your seat.

Dear writer aka meraki,

I hope this e-mail find you well. My name is Jung Hoseok, I’m the CEO of ZER Publishing company. I’ve taken interest in your poetry and would like to have a meeting to discuss a possible collaboration between us.

Kind regards,

Jung Hoseok

The scream that came from you couldn’t possibly be human. Closing the laptop as if it will burn you, you throw it on the sofa choosing to avoid it until tomorrow.

You didn’t know how he found you giving that any personal information on the site was strictly private. Pacing back and forward you facetimed Sehun. He picks up after three very long rings making your heart beat erratically against your chest.

“I swear to God if this is another one of your emergency calls.” Sehun stands there in nothing but a towel hugging his waist. He moves to the other side of the bathroom, bare feet pacing against the marble floor.

“I got an e-mail.”

He curses, his voice muffled from the towel pressed against his face. ” You called me to tell me about a mail?”

“Not any mail, Sehun. I was contacted by Jung Hoseok.” You whisper still walking back and forward, Haku following every step of yours. Sehun tries not to pay close attention to you, getting slowly dizzy from all the commotion.

“And something tells me I should know who that is?”

You halt taking a moment to stop yourself from starting a conversation about common knowledge again, it was a sour subject. “He messaged through the mail used for Meraki.”

This time Sehun is quite for a few seconds taking in your words. You don’t see him, but you can hear deodorant spray and shuffle of clothes. “How? Isn’t that private?”

“Yes.”

And suddenly the anxious feeling was back. The poems you wrote there were strictly private, the mention of your love life and your hardships with your family were never meant to be linked back to you. You’ve checked the websites policy not wanting anyone to associate you with the account. If that were to happen you can immediately start packing your things to move to another continent.

“I am sure he didn’t hack it; nobody is that desperate. Maybe he contacted the website owner?” Sehun takes his phone, hair freshly washed strands falling over his face. He moves from the bathroom to the kitchen placing you carefully , so you could see the whole room.

You think for a second, there was a possibility. “Isn’t that a violation of my privacy?”

“I can try to read out the rights and policy. Come up with a text signed as your lawyer but Y/N” Sehun’s voice is soft, something he did to calm you down. He stood in the middle of the kitchen, eyes having an internal battle, the look you’ve seen on him in rare moments.

“Yes?”

“I am sure if you refuse, he won’t bother you. I am also sure you don’t have much to lose if you agree.”

                                                         ____

Hoseok was on his fifth coffee by noon, deprived of any sleep last night.  He was starved for a good literature piece that would leave him in myriad emotions. Sadly, he came up with an empty line. He spent his days cocooned in the corner of Suho’s café reading page by page poetry that awoke no emotion except irritation. He was on the brink of losing his mind.

Suho slides into the booth, careful not to startle Hoseok.” Have you found anything?”

Hoseok ruffles his hair before resting his head in his hands. He was desperate enough to visit fanfiction sites in hopes of stumbling upon work that had  the spark.

“Maybe you should take a break? Visit those open mic nights where people recite their poems?”

Hoseok shakes his head having already used that option last week. “I’ve been to three mic nights and not one was interesting. I am on a verge leaving everything behind to become a stripper. Yoongi did say I have an amazing body."

Sehun by now used to his friend’s dramatic antics shrugs his shoulder.” You should really take a break. You’ve been searching for a month now.”

Hoseok wished he could take a break, but the existence of his firm lay in his hands. That enough gave him tremendous worry pushing him way above his limits.

“I know but if I don’t find a good piece in a month, I can close the firm. Do you know what that means? Hundreds of people losing their job.” Hoseok wasn’t the one to crumble under pressure but now he felt like crying. Suho offered him a smile he’s seen before, the pity smile. Patting his shoulder he gets up at the sound of doors opening ,customers swarming in.

At the end of the day Hoseok thinks everything has turned against him. His laptop dies in the middle of reading, and he discovers he forgot his charger at home. In all the despair and anger he accidentally knocks over the mug spilling coffee over important documents and his newly bought jeans. The stain will probably leave a small burn that he wasn’t ready to face today. He’ll take care of it tomorrow.

On the side Suho observes his restless friend. He felt bad for not being able to help him more, but he already used all his resources and sent them anonymously to his mail only for Hoseok to turn it down.

Sehun walks into the café with his gym in one hand and candy in the other, drops of sweat forming on his forehead. He was waiting for a call from Y/N, prepared to jump into his car at any second. He greets Suho, his sight landing on an exhausted Hoseok bumping his head repeatedly against the table lightly. He hoped to never reach this point of insanity. 

“What’s his problem?”

Suho follows Sehun’s line of sight. Hoseok sits in the booth, forehead rested against the table. Both his mind and body were tired, and the clock was ticking. “He needs to find a good poetry piece to publish otherwise he’s toast.”

In that moment Sehun weights his options. He knew how self-conscious you were about your work thinking it lacked emotion and quality and this seemed like a good opportunity to prove you otherwise. On the other hand, there was the issue with people closely linked with your poems. He takes his time picking between different sugars, steering the coffee slow enough to buy him at least one more minute.

Pushing the bills to Suho he takes a sip. “There is a website called Nora, it had lots of good poetry. I've read some.”

Suho nods following Sehun out of the café promising to deliver the message to Hoseok. Once locked up he slides back into the booth watching Hoseok pack his belongings ready to call it a day. “This costumer told me about Nora site. You should give a shot.”

“Nora?” Hoseok mocks, he heard of all the websites used for writing but Nora didn’t ring a bell.

“I think it’s new. I’ve never heard of it but he seemed sure of his words. The worst that can happen is he lied and knowing Sehun that’s unlikely.”

Hoseok nods eager to go back home to his cat Nobus and prepare himself a warm bath to release the tension built up in his muscles. Waving goodbye to Sehun, he exits the shop from the back door and turns on the engine of his car driving away to the beat of classical music easing him.

Entering his small apartment located in the centre of Seoul, he throws his shoes to the side not bothering for order tonight. Slouching himself on the couch he pets Nobus, the cat bumping his head against his arm purring softly. With eyelids half closed he opens the website on his phone, picking poetry as his preferred category.

Selecting a random writer he opens the first poem, eyes scanning the text.

 I love you             like the habit I picked up in college                  of sleeping through lectures                  or saying I’m sorry                  when I get stopped for speeding             because I drink a glass of water                  in the morning                  and chain-smoke cigarettes                  all through the day             because I take my coffee Black                  and my milk with chocolate             because you keep my feet warm                  though my life a mess I love you             because deep down I know                  you'll never be mine again   (author of the poem: Nikki Giovanni, I added three last sentences)*

With every word that Hoseok took in he felt himself back in university, all drunk on the idea of loving the girl that sat two seats in front of him during microeconomics. He relives the ecstasy of having love running through his veins, he feels the desire under his fingertips for just one touch, he crumbles at the pain of finding her kissing his best friend. Hoseok feels like his heart had been ripped apart with just few simple letters placed in a neat poem.

He sees the words meraki scribbled in a messy handwriting under the poem and he feels as if his prayers have been answered.

[gwoongi]

best years

jeon jeongguk / reader genre: best friend au, bff-to-lovers au, fluff, angst, guk is pining rating: general words: 2.6k warnings: its a short little fic, sort of like one chunk of a big chocolate bar and im gonna slowly feed u one chunk at a time until you’re sick and full a/n: a squint into the mind of bff jeongguk who will star in an eventual “idol best friend” series that i routinely dream about but have always felt it disrespectful to write about but at the end of the day everything i write is fiction and jeongguk would probably be less offended by a “canon divergence bff au” than he would reading my drug addicted rockstar au so :-) read it & weep folks

Jeongguk’s always been scared of the rejection he might receive from you. He might be a dream for fans across the world, but there’s a split second where Jeongguk feels like he might not be good enough for you. He’s the world to other people. But you deserve the whole galaxy, and he’s afraid that’s something that he might not ever be, even with the money, and the fame, and the doubts he tries to hide.

Jeongguk was taking a pretty big risk, he knew that. It was risky taking any step out of his house at any moment, even on the days where it was pouring outside; he’d think he was safe until he made it to the end of the road, earphones snug in his ears, and the flash of a camera behind the shrubs in the corner of his eye blinds him back to his front door in a twisted shame. 

Granted, he’d expected it to be worse as he booked a plane ticket and made a rather hasty, in-the-moment journey to the airport and on a plane with no layover. Usually when Jeongguk takes a journey overseas, there’s at least one or two fans hiding in the corner of the suites waiting for him, or someone on the plane who’d recognise his face. For this, he’d suck it up and take a photo. It was better to have good PR, and be a little bit pissed off that he’d been discovered, than to have bad PR and to be known as the member of BTS who didn’t give a damn when the ‘real’ reasons for travel were taken away.

But Jeongguk thought the risk was worth it this time. The plane touched down in Manchester, and from there, it was an hour long train journey to a station he didn’t know anything about to meet a friend of yours he’d only seen in Instagram pictures. You were at University now, a face he saw on a screen rather than a face he quite literally woke up next to months before. It had been four months since Jeongguk had seen his true best friend, and fuck anybody who was going to make him wait a second longer before seeing you again.

You were his greatest risk, but it was worth it. You were worth it.

“Fuck, it’s insane to actually be meeting you right now.” Frank is a good guy, ginger with circle glasses rested on the end of his roundish nose. He led Jeongguk out of the train station, offering to pull his suitcase for him. “I mean, I’m a huge fan.” Followed by a sigh and a quiet, “Who isn’t…?”

Jeongguk smiled at him, squinting in the sun as it hit his eyes in the direction of Frank’s face. “Thanks. I hear a lot about you, too.”

Frank grinned, whipping his head towards Jeongguk. “All sexy and scandalous things, I hope. You know, none of us believed Y/N when she said she knew you. We thought the pictures were Photoshopped, you know how she is.” They both paused by the side of the road going one way only, “Shit, she’s gonna freak out when she sees you.”

That was three minutes ago, but Jeongguk’s still playing that sentence on a loop. He walks alongside Frank down one of the streets, past a redundant furniture store that quirks his brows. A man stands in the doorway, a cigarette out of his mouth and ash dropping to his toes bare in sandals. It smells like doughnuts, and weed, and he smiles brightly. He’s missed the UK, and how unbelievably shockingly awful it is when you’re not looking at picturesque photos of London online.

“I thought you’d know that Y/N’s my best friend,” Jeongguk says thoughtfully. He pauses as Frank does as a car zooms past when they’re about to cross. “I mean, people know. The photos got leaked, all of them.”

“Hey, give me a break,” Frank says dramatically. “I only became a fan three months ago. And yeah, I figured. Finally, I understood why all the white girls studying Korean here wanted photographs with her and to be her best friend…”

Jeongguk frowns. “Is it bad? She doesn’t tell me this stuff on the phone. I mean, they go crazy on Twitter when she posts pictures and we interact, but I didn’t…”

Frank shakes his head and grins at Jeongguk until the words die out. “Nah, don’t panic. It’s not that bad. If anything, she might get a kick out of the fame. Trust, there’s always gonna be the girls who hate her because she’s friends with you and that’s like, what, threatening to their fantasy? But she loves you a lot, and a friendship like yours...it’s kinda like family, you know?”

Jeongguk feels his stomach flip, kind of like butterflies. These butterflies are sour, his heart racing that extra bit quicker. He likes the sound of family. He doesn’t like the way Frank implies it, because if Jeongguk is ever going to consider you as family, it won’t be as his sister. You’ve never been his sister, even when you were part of his family growing up. There were times you came to all of his Korean family events, the times his family called you their own, but you were never his sister. It was different to that, you both knew it but never acknowledged it.

Frank makes small talk until they make it to the student accomodation you currently live at, and because Frank knows basically everybody, a student comes to the gate to let them both in. They’re nice, big and pretty-skinned, wearing an Aston Villa shirt that Jeongguk remembers looks a lot like your Dad’s back in the day. Might be the same, might be a vintage.

He smiles at him, because maybe this guy knows Jeongguk, but the guy just turns back into the common room and doesn’t come out again. Frank doesn’t live here, he lives in a flat of his own around the corner, but Frank might as well be a resident here. He lets himself in towards the lift and shoots a text to one of your flatmates.

“Apparently she’s in the shower,” Frank says casually. He locks his phone, taps his foot as the lift rises, “Let’s hope she doesn’t stride out completely stark naked as you’re in there.”

He almost blushes, “Ha, yeah.” He declines to mention the times you two have showered together, the time you went skinny dipping together when you were fifteen. Those were things that might end up getting misunderstood, and those are his memories he’d like to keep hidden and secret. He says nothing, nothing but a thank you when he enters your flat with Frank and takes a different turn to the left as Frank goes right, towards the kitchen.

Your room is at the very end, your name on the door in stickers from a set you got from the 99p store, and from inside, he hears the music in the bathroom. The door opens silently and closes with the same volume, and Jeongguk manages to wheel his suitcase to the end of the bed and plonks himself down. As expected from pixels on the screen, your room looks better in person- white walls and a bed set that’s white with a peony pattern. Above your desk, Jeongguk recognises all your photos together, new polaroids of you and the friends you’ve made at University who Jeongguk always felt kind of threatened by. He smiles to himself, and rests his neck at a strange angle against the wall your bed is literally attached to. From here, he can see the bathroom door in the mirror on the opposite wall, but he knows you’ll only see his feet when you come out.

Speaking of which; the Fleetwood Mac song ends suddenly and the shower water has stopped running. Jeongguk hears the toilet flush and his heart starts to race. Four months of falling asleep on Facetime and texting when there was no time left in the day, and now, here he is, on your bed, waiting for you to step out and...and, then what?

Maybe you didn’t even want him here. Maybe you were happier now that Jeongguk was in Korea and you were still at home, in a new city with new friends and a new life. Maybe the memory of Jeongguk was burdensome. Worse, maybe he was something you felt you had to remember but didn’t really want to.

Jeongguk’s always been scared of the rejection he might receive from you. He might be a dream for fans across the world, but there’s a split second where Jeongguk feels like he might not be good enough for you. He’s the world to other people. But you deserve the whole galaxy, and he’s afraid that’s something that he might not ever be, even with the money, and the fame, and the doubts he tries to hide.

The bathroom door opens and in two seconds, the light is shut off and he hears you sigh.

“Frank, you gotta stop letting yourself in here without telling me,” your voice says. “Good thing I’m semi-decent. Usually I’m not.”

“No fun,” Jeongguk teases, and silence follows. There’s a pause in the room, and Jeongguk cocks his head with his left cheek on his shoulder, waiting for you to click and appear in front of him. Suddenly, there’s small but quick thuds across the carpet and Jeongguk feels his chest tighten with a nostalgic feeling as you come into view with wide eyes, damp hair and nothing but a bra and those stupid black worn leggings you refuse to throw out.

The grin that reaches Jeongguk’s eyes now aches as he laughs at you, at the way you gape in his presence. It takes a moment, a moment of what feels like could be the rejection that Jeongguk absolutely fears, but then you smile so wide that Jeongguk feels it in his stomach.

“Holy shit!” you exclaim loudly, bringing a hand to your mouth as you hurry towards the bed. It dips beneath your knees and Jeongguk rises up to a sitting position. “What the fuck!”

He laughs out loud, and when you’re next to nothing away, Jeongguk wastes zero time in bringing you into his arms, tightly hugging you.

“Careful, my hair’s all wet,” you squeak.

“Don’t care.”

He really doesn’t. There’s probably going to be a damp spot on his clothes after, but that’s okay. You groan loudly with happiness as you hug him in return as tightly as he is hugging you, your weight on his lap and your arms around his neck. Jeongguk smiles so wide, sighing with content into your neck. Here, he smells the marshmallow wash on your skin, the fragrance of your hair that kind of reminds Jeongguk of cabbage patch babies.

“You smell good,” he mutters. You laugh quietly, squirming when his nose sniffs across your neck like one would kiss. “I don’t.”

“You do, you always smell good,” you reply. One sniff, he laughs, “See!”

“Mmm,” he plays along, “the sweet smell of planes and trains and jetlag.”

That makes you laugh, and at the mention of jetlag, Jeongguk realises he could probably fall asleep like this given the chance. He has missed this, missed you, so fucking much. The emotions are overwhelming. 

Jeongguk kisses behind your earlobe, and just underneath your jaw. That’s new. Jeongguk was a cheek-kiss kind of best friend, but never this. You’re not complaining. Your head drops to one side, almost giving him more access to the space free, and he occupies it. Those fucking butterflies; Jeongguk feels sick with nerves as he kisses you, under your chin and across your neck, on that spot on your collarbone you found out tickled after Seven Minutes in Heaven in Year 8. Maybe your fingernails in his hair are a way of you telling him to stop- it’s something he can think about tonight if he can’t fall asleep, something he doesn’t care to think about when he kisses on your actual jawline, to your cheek and the corner of your mouth, your cupid's bow.

He moves away with a blush that matches your own, but maybe you can’t see his in the colour of your fairy lights. He plays with the confusion as he moves the hair that's across your face around your ears, smiling and raising his eyebrows. Jeongguk convinces the role of casual to perfection and bites back a sour taste when he notices you’re the same. Casual, unmoved, maybe even like it didn’t mean a thing.

“Your hair is so fucking wet,” he sniggers boyishly.

“I told you,” you shrug. You shrink, relaxed, “Fuck, Guk, why are you here? I mean, I’m literally so happy, but...Are you gonna get in trouble for this?”

“I dunno,” he admits. “Maybe, probably. I mean...the guys know I’m here. Hoseok drove me to the airport with Jimin.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

Jeongguk sighs loudly. “Yeah, I know. Frank told me all about the girls.”

“Little fucker. Is he here? I’ll punch him for mentioning it to you. It’s honestly fine. Girls will be girls.”

“You’re my best friend for life, it’s important to me that you’re not uncomfortable by it-”

“I’m not,” you assure him, hands trapped in his hair. “Damn, this got long. Didn’t look long over the phone.”

“Was growing it out,” Jeongguk replies. “Heard you fancied Keanu Reeves, couldn’t handle the competition.”

“Ha!” you retort. “Simp.”

“For you,” frowns Jeongguk dramatically.

Conversation fizzles comfortably, to the point where you both forget that Jeongguk’s underneath you and your legs are wrapped like a koala around his middle. The fact that this is normality for you both is ignored. You’ve done worse things together. Jeongguk even knows that the bra you’re wearing now is one he bought for you. That could be why Jeongguk feels the way that he does, why this confusion wraps around his body and traps him. Jeongguk knows that the butterflies in his stomach don’t just appear because you’re his best friend he hasn’t seen in a while. He knows what they mean when they flutter when your name pops up when you’re calling him, when an interviewer tries to catch him out by bringing you up in another interview that you don’t need to be mentioned in.

Jeongguk knows that coming here was worth the confusion, and the nerves, and the fact that this will be a headline when it gets out. JEON JUNGKOOK GOES TO UK TO VISIT HIS BEST FRIEND...BUT ARE THEY MORE? Or worse, NETIZENS HAVE PROOF THAT BTS JUNGKOOK IS DATING HIS BEST FRIEND Y/N…

He doesn’t want to hurt you. That’s how he feels scared. For you to be scandalised by an article online that caught him out in his feelings, he knew it wasn’t fair. Jeongguk might be too afraid to say he’s in love, and too afraid to find out if you feel it too, but he’d risk those feelings and the headlines if it meant spending one more day with you.

Jeongguk’s got a week and a half with you. Something’s gotta give within this week. He doesn’t want to go back to Korea with more regrets than he came with, and for now, he’ll just have to swallow those butterflies back down when they pour out of his mouth. Right now, he can’t afford to be caught out. It has to be known on his own terms, when the timing is perfect. It has to be perfect, because it’s what you deserve. It has to be perfect, because if it isn’t, then Jeongguk doesn’t think it will be worth it.

Losing you to a headline and a butterfly is out of the question. One tries to escape when you hop off him and shrug on a jumper from out of your wardrobe. If you noticed his unease you didn’t mention it. He wants to cry, wants the confusion to go away for the night so he can enjoy it.

Fuck.

For now, he thinks as he follows you with an arm around your shoulders out of your bedroom and towards the kitchen to meet the others, he’ll just have to fake it til he makes it. Just like always. Put on a face, put on a show, until it all feels worth the spillage. He can’t let the butterflies escape yet.

It has to be perfect, and he’ll have to be patient.

[clearlyshyobservation]

Kokichi is dying (V3 chatfic, no particular ship)

TW: Infers abuse, talks about ableism, neglect, panic attack pretty much, depression, self loathing. never being good enough

i am so sorry but vr au's need to be sad, love yall :)

(Background info: This is set in a vr au, they are not with their fake memory parents (Ie; kaito's kind grandparents) but rather why they really have)

(Also i have no fucking clue what ship i was going for???? pretty sure they are all on the table, and kokichi talks like an idiot in this and i love it. Gonta's writing is based off of his Japanese talking style, so no more caveman talking).

USERNAMES:

(Space monkey: Kaito, Detective pikachu: shuichi, Elton john: kaede, Antman: gonta, Mr. Gonstealyoman: korekiyo, Atua's bitch: angie, emoboi: ryoma, be-boop: kiibo, bread roll: Maki, cum dumpster: miu, mommy: kirumi, Gremlin: Kokichi)

TLDR: Chaos ensues, slight angst

Gremlin: omfg im fucking sicK im gonna fucking die i bet this was kaitos bitch ass fault for coughing on me with his tuberculosis headass gROSSSSS I HATE EVERYTHINGGG

Space Monkey: i-

Space monkey: I didn't get you sick dumbass,,,, my tb is fugckin cured bi-

Bread roll: he's dramatic and gross dont believe him

Gremlin: yall mean for what?

Gremlin: i have a life taking disease and yall laughing i- 

Gremlin: see you at my funeral bitch

Detective pikachu: What are you sick with then

Gremlin: anythong bitch, im the universe

Antman: He sounds delusional, thats not good

Detective pikachu: He's always delusional, he's Kokichi

Mr. gonstealyoman: I guess this name is better than my old one

Mr. gonstealyoman: thank you kokichi :) I am glad we have come to an understanding

Gremlin: kay sexy

Gremlin: IGNRE WHAT I JUST SENT

Gremlin: IGNORE IT IGNORE IT IGNORE ITTTTT

Antman: who was that for???

Gremlin: NO ONE,,, 

Gremlin: Okay,,, maybe sexy tall men in general lowkey

Gremlin: okay,,,, maybe anyone over 6 feet 

Detective pikachu: i feel excluded

Detective pikachu: good, i don't like you kokichi, your an ass

Gremlin: u sound jelly shumaiiiiii

be-boop: perhaps he is telling the truth, you know,

be-boop: according to my data, in chapter four Shuichi stated that you will never have friends, and no one will ever like you

Gremlin: SHUT THE FUCK UP STOP MAKING ME FEEL BADBSKVKHDVKDSKJV

Antman: do you need me to come over? I can make you tea?

mommy: Do you know how to do that, Gonta? I can teach you?

Antman: Gonta does know, thank you very much. 

Antman: Gonta is not a child, Tojo-chan, please don't regard me as one

Antman: Gonta can cook, can clean, can be gentle, and has his own mind

Space monkey: but we're just making sure man, cuz, you know,,,, chapter 4

Antman: I am capable of things just like you!!!!!

Antman: Gonta doesn't know why you guys treat me like a child :(

Gremlin: yeah, hot stuff over there is basically a prodigy homies

Antman: Gonta is dumb though, don't say that.

Antman: Gonta is no prodigy, in fact, he is below average in everything

Gremlin: Whats ur test scores bitch

Antman: Gonta got a 98 on my english test,, but i wanted a 100, which would make Gonta actually smart :( 

Antman: Gonta is not good enough to be friends with you all

Antman: I can do basic stuff like tojo said...

Antman: maybe i do need help?

Antman: im not sure anymore:((((

Gremlin: THEY ARE ABLEIST GONTA,,, THEY FEEL SUPERIOR FOR TREATING UUUUU LIKE A CHILD

Detective pikachu: You sound really delusional Kokichi, maybe you should get sleep

Gremlin: S T F U, IM SPITTING ST8 FACTS BITCH

Detective pikachu: Sure you are. Now get some rest. 

Gremlin: GRRRR WHY WONT YOU LISTEN TO ME YOU IDIOTS??

Bread roll: Cause your stupid and aggressive

Gremlin: your personality, basically?

Bread roll: shut up at least i have a boyfriend

Gremlin: Technically, you just stole my frienemy 

Gremlin: Yall do be avoiding each other doe

Space Monkey: WE ARE NOT

Gremlin: Yeah yeah

Gremlin: yesterday i saw you to enter the same cafe by accident, duck your heads, then sit across the cafe from each other, all while  avoiding eye contact

Gremlin: Soooo,,, things not going well in paradise?

Detective pikachu: you're nosy

Gremlin: says the literal detective 

Space monkey: everythings fine your just a dickkkk

Gremlin: "oooo! Im momo-chan, i say bad word and go brrrrr"

Space monkey: im going to fucking stab him 

Gremlin: You cant, ive already enslaved you with my chaotic, yet cute hijinks, havent i~

Space monkey: STOP STOP NO NOT THE SQUIGLY

Gremlin: is it the sex? WHY DONT YOU MAKE EYE CNOTACT WITH UR LADY NO MORE 

Space monkey: ITS NOT THE SEX I HATE YOU

Gremlin: im free by the way at 8 ;)

Bread roll: STOP trying to steal my boyfriend kokichi, ive told you this before

Bread roll: NO

Bread roll: BODY

Antman: Gonta interrupts to say, Gonta loves you kokichi, and we should get flowers together, than maybe we can prank some people :D 

Bread roll: Ive never wanted to stab you more, gonta

Gremlin: I'd enjoy that very much, fine fellow ;)

Gremlin: but idk,,,, can you like take care of me first, cuz IM SICK BECAUSE OF KAITO TUBERCULOSIS ASS

Space monkey: I DONT HAVE TB ANYMORE

Gremlin: SURE YOU DONT 

Space monkey: I DONT

Gremlin:  BUT GUESS WHAT

Gremlin: YOU STILL SMOKE DUMBASS AND THATS NOT GOOD FOR U OR YOUR TUBERCULOSIS

Detective pikachu: He smokes?

Atua's bitch: he does, i walked in on him in the bathroom lmao

Atua's bitch: he was scared shitless and threw it out the window, needless to say atua does nt approve

Gremlin: DO YOU EVEN HAVE THE VACCINE????

Space monkey: Uh,,, i was taught vaccines were bad, so no i don't have the vaccine

Gremlin: I HATE OLD PEOPLE

Gremlin: ABOLISH OLD PEOPLEEEE

Gremlin: THEY SPREAD MISINFORMATION AND IT PHISCALLY HURTS ME TO SEEEEEE

Space monkey: your dramatic, it cant be that bad

Gremlin: say that when you catch it again

Gremlin: i swear you coughed on me like,,,, 5 weeks ago tho

Antman: OOOO! Fun fact: Tuberculosis can lay dormant from 3 months to a few years! 

Space monkey: u guys are just trying to scare me

Bread roll: Just checked the chat after using the br and,,m YOUDONT HAVE YOU VACCINES???

Detective pikachu: Im sorry, but kaito, please,,,,, for the love of god get vaccines

Space monkey: alright alright, ill do it cuz you guys are all on my case and i don't like being the villain :(

Gremlin: Im so happy i have gonta with me rn, he is making me tea while yall rot in your distant ass relationship (THIS IS FOR YOU KAITO)

Space monkey: Im going to destroy your bloodline in about three seconds if you dont stfu right fucking now

Gremlin: Hhehe i have an inaprwopwiate joke uwu

emoboi: STOP PLEASE DEAR GOD

cum dumpster: wHAt Is iT YOU WHORE

Gremlin: i was gonna say wouldn't he need to like,,,, have sex with my family to weed out my bloodline or something??

cum dumpster: i-

cum dumpster: Why am i acting surprised, ive watched porn with more extravagant plots than this

cum dumpster: ie; are you guys FUCKING? RIGHT INFRONT OF MY SALAD??? is one i will cherish with my soul

emoboi: hehe why did she point out the salad

Space monkey: I hate u kokichi, i truly do

Gremlin: I bet if you got the chance u would kiss me space boy :P

Bread roll has left the chat

Space monkey: o god is she ddoing one of those bf loyalty tests or smthing???

Space monkey: now im nervous lmao

Gremlin: why you so nervous stupid~~~~

Gremlin: It not like ur cheating on her homie

Space monkey: It's just a placebo effect

Gremlin: My brain feels fried Momo-chan,, i don't understand big boy words right now

Space monkey: Basically, if you take a pill that doesn't do anything but you don't know that and believe it does, you will scientifically start to feel better

Gremlin: first and only time saying this, but thank you 

Space monkey: HEHEHEB YOU SAID THANK YOU YOU SAID THANK YOUYOU SAID THANK YOUYOU SAID THANK YOUYOU SAID THANK YOU

Gremlin: Kaito,,, imma need you to do me a favor and look up on your ceiling

Space monkey: i hate you, idk what it is, but i hte you

Gremlin: good <3

Space monkey: HE REPLACED ALL MY THE STARS ON MY CELING WITH FUCKIBG DICKSSS

Space monkey: THIS IS THE LST FUCKING STRAW IM GONNA LOSE IT

Space monkey: IF MY GRANDPARENTS SEE THIS BULLSHIT THEY ARE GOING TO KILL ME, SLAP ME, MAYBE BREAK MY NECK AND DESTROY MEE

Space monkey: Im GENUINLEY panicing HOW TF am i gona get this off my wal???? They are going to bbat me senselpess help me shUichi

Detective pikachu: o god, i can sense the sheer pain and scaredness in  that tet, 

Detective pikachu: are you for real gong to get hurt or are you pulling a kokichi?

Space monkey: FUCKING HELP ME IM NOT FUCKING JOKINGKABKCB HELP THEY ARE NOT HOME RN THEY ARE LIKEE,,,, 40 MINUTES AWAY PLEASEE 

Gremlin: okay,,, maybe this wasn't the best prank.,,, i guess i'll help clean up cuz im not that much of a sociopath

Gremlin: tbh my parents can go shove it too lowkey terrible 0/10 

Space monkey: AHHHH IM SO SCARED PLS PSL GET HERE FAST

be-boop: Of course, i will come, i will survey the outside of the house

Antman: Gonta is coming too! We will get this done in under 40 minutes!

Space monkey: OKAY

Gremlin: Lowkey, if i cough on you ignore it bitch your the one who made me like this

Space monkey: W HA TDONT COUGH ON ME IM NOT SICK ANYMORE

Gremlin: I will give you TB again just cuz your making me suffer

Space monkey: Suffer what??? putting dicks on my FUCKING WALL???

Gremlin: Guilt, idiot, im feeling guilty. 

cum dumpster: oof thats new

emoboi: yeah i wasn't expecting it

Mr.gonstealyoman: Me neither. It is rather peculiar seeing it being texted by him because he is always feels not guilty of his bad actions.

be-boop: I do believe he means it, though...

emoboi: impossible.

cum dumpster: i agree, literally impossible.

Gremlin: I HAVE A FUCKIBG SOUL YOU CRazY CONSPIRACISTS

Antman: Quick question, shuichi can i stay with you again? It'll be dark when i get home and gonta can't do that so,,, please help

Detective pikachu: my parents are like blank slates, who eat slowly, watch tv slowly, and never look at me. Im sure they wouldn't mind :P

Antman: ALRIGHT! :D LETS GET MISSION: MR. MOMOTA ROOM REPAIR DONE!

Gremlin: ooo! I like the name! IM INNNN! 

Detective pikachu: On it!

be-boop: Ready for look out!

Space monkey: I love you guys :)

AN: Im lowkey sorry i ended this chaotic mess with angst,,,, but like fr i love it i love angst,, i hate reading it but love writing it

[buckysmischief]

running in the dark - 2

Bucky Barnes x reader

Alex Summers x reader

Word Count: 2,224

Warning(s): language, drinking & smoking

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Playlist

“Good morning, gorgeous.” The smell of pancakes and syrup filled your senses, pulling you out of a deep sleep.

Without opening your eyes you eventually spoke up, “Pancakes and pet names won’t fix anything, Alex. How’d you get in anyway?”

“Wanda slammed the door in my face-”

“-as she should.”

“-so I climbed in through the window.” He confessed.”And I’m not sure there is a way to make up for my actions last night, but I overreacted and I’m sorry. There’s no excuse, I’m just a dumbass.”

In all the time you’ve known Alex, he’s hardly apologized, but in no way did that mean he was sincere. “Look you can say whatever you want but actions mean more to me. Be the boyfriend I deserve or just leave. I’m too tired to keep fighting for something you don’t seem to take seriously at all.”

He’s never been the best boyfriend, but he definitely wasn’t the worst - not that that’s saying much. If he wasn’t willing to put in the work, though, then you could live without him.

“I’ll be better, for us. I promise.” You could tell by the look on his face he meant it, or at least wanted to, even his tone was different than the other times.

“Okay, but you really gotta show me this time, and give me those pancakes before I accidentally push you off the bed.”

After you stuffed your face, you let him cuddle with you. It could have been your full stomach, or being wrapped up in your boyfriend, but eventually you fell back asleep.

This was the side of Alex that you wish everyone else could see, the side where he was soft, gentle, and caring. Of course you didn’t want everyone knowing first hand just how comfortable his embrace felt, that was just for you.

You had known him since high school but were never in the same circles, your paths never even crossed unless you were in detention at the same time. God forbid anyone tried to talk in there though, the teacher was a bitch and would add days just because she could. It wasn’t until a few years ago that you met him and started dating.

Well, you ran into each other at a club, talked for a few hours, and ended up half naked in his bed the next morning. Things were very casual in the beginning, well as casual as exclusive fuck buddies could be. About a year and a half ago you both decided to make things official. That’s when things started getting rocky.

He became more jealous, a lot worse than he was the night before, that was something he needed to work on again. A part of you really wanted this to work out, you’d definitely needed to convince your friends to give him another chance but that was for another day.

Much sooner than you would have liked, Alex was pulling you out of your sleep, “Hey princess, you gotta get up. Wanda’s been blowing up your phone.”

“Ugh, I must be late.” you groaned and rolled out of bed, throwing on a pair of leggings and an on band tee.

“For what? I thought you were off today?”

“You remember Leslie, Pietro’s girlfriend? She’s moving in today, and so is Bucky I guess. I told them I’d help unpack and stuff.” You were lowkey expecting him to freak out, but he looked absolutely calm.

“I know I’m probably not welcome, but I can help if y’all need it.” He knew if he was ever going to make it work with you, he needed to have a better relationship with your friends. He’s trying.

“As much as I’d love that,” you say, giving him a kiss, “I think it would be better to plan something ahead of time.”

“We can go to Topgolf, maybe a cookout on the beach?” A part of you was almost suspicious at how different he was acting, you made a mental note to talk to him about it later.

“A cookout would probably be best,” another ding came from your phone, Wanda was outside waiting. “Come on, you can come back over later if you want.”

He stopped you before reaching the front door, pulling you into a kiss with enough passion to leave you breathless and weak in the knees. “Text me when you get home, I love you.”

“I love you too, have a good day babe.”

You could feel Wanda’s eyes on you from the car, silently judging you. “I’m not going to tell you what I’m thinking.” She said, pulling out the driveway.

“Small blessings.” You laughed.

“BUT, that’s because I’ve said it 100 times and I don’t feel like wasting my breath anymore.” She was thinking you were an idiot who deserves better and blah blah blah, and she’s right, but you learned a long time ago that if you couldn’t get over this crush for Bucky then you’d spend the rest of your life settling for anyone who wasn’t him.

That didn’t mean your feelings for Alex were fake or anything - they’re real - they just didn’t compare to how Bucky had made you feel almost your whole life. It didn’t help that all of those feelings came back the second you saw him standing in your living room.

“So how long is Bucky staying with P?”

“Until he finds a place nearby,” she replied, not mentioning the subject change, “he didn’t really have much though so we're really just helping Leslie.”

“So what you’re saying is the boys are going to do all the heavy lifting while the three of us just organize it all?”

“Exactly.”

As Wanda parked next to the curb you could see the boys unloading the U-Haul while Leslie directed them safely in the house.

Her and Pietro have been together for awhile now, no one knows how long exactly because they’re assholes and won’t tell. They said they’ll reveal it on their wedding day, but everyone knows neither of them are the marrying type. You know what kind of people treat their friends and family that way? People that belong together apparently.

“Thank God you’re finally here!” Leslie shouted as she ran from the front patio to hug them both. “What held you up?”

“Someone had an early moring visitor.” Wanda’s voice didn’t show a hint of irritation, but her mean sideeye did.

“Someone’s just mad no one climbed through their window and brought them breakfast.” Truth be told, that comment was kind of mean. Sam, Wanda’s boyfriend, was currently stationed on the other side of the country and she didn’t get to see him a lot. And yes, if he was here she probably would have gotten an entire breakfast platter made for her. But just because you understand her dislike of Alex doesn’t that mean she has to remind you in subtle ways whenever she feels like it.

“Speaking of food,” Pietro interrupts, “is it almost lunchtime? I’m starving.”

“Who are you, Scooby-Doo? You just ate 30 minutes ago.” Leslie laughs.

“I’ll pickup some wings and pizza,” you offer, walking inside the house, “Where’s Bucky? He’s coming with me.”

“Is he?”

“He owes me eight years, he doesn’t have a choice.”

You eventually found him in the back yard, sitting in the sand. “Am I interrupting anything?”

“Never,” he smiled, “you can sit next to me you know. I don’t bite.”

“Eight year old me would beg to differ, but I’m good. About to pick up some food, wanna come with?”

“I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“Nope, come on.”

Wanda called in the order to the pizza place near the boardwalk, so by the time Bucky pulled up there shouldn’t be a long wait. You decided to walk to the ABC store across the street and grab a few bottles of rum and vodka. If they thought there wasn’t going to be some kind of special housewarming party, they were wrong.

Once you got back to the car, Bucky was walking out with three boxes of pizza and three boxes of wings, “I would have asked you if you needed help but I wanted to see if those muscles were just for show.”

“You got the essentials so I’ll let it pass.” He wouldn’t have made you carry anything anyways, not because he was that nice, he just knew you’d drop at least two boxes.

“Oh, the essentials? Those are getting dropped off later.”

“You’re a mess.” He knew exactly what you were referring to and left it alone at that.

When you both got back to Pietro’s, more of Leslie’s things were inside and ready to be put away, but that could wait until after lunch… and maybe a few drinks.

As the day went on, the five of you successfully got everything organized and as a reward to yourselves, you were going to have a bonfire on the beach. A part of you wanted to invite Alex, but you’d see him later. Right now was about hanging out with your friends - and catching up with Bucky.

Pietro brought out two sheets to sit on while Bucky got the fire started, Wanda and Leslie got the drinks and you grabbed some snacks.

And the weed.

“I bought enough to share!” You shook the jar, letting everyone know if they wanted it then they could take it.

Wanda laughed out, “You know Pietro will.”

“That’s because he’s the only one with good taste.” You winked to Leslie.

It immediately - and rightfully - went to her head, “Isn’t that the truth.”

When the sheets were laid out, Wanda, Leslie and Pietro sat on the bigger one with you and Bucky on the slightly smaller one.

At one point in the evening, you tuned the others out and gave your full attention to Bucky. He was filling you in on all the things he didn’t know you already knew thanks to Pietro not knowing how to keep his mouth shut. The only thing you didn’t know was why exactly he pushed you away, just that it had something to do with his ex. Why not find out now?

“So, why didn’t Natasha like me?” It was better to just come right out and ask, no point in holding back now.

Bucky knew he couldn’t tell you the whole truth, but he wasn’t going to lie either. “Nat was - is, definitely still is crazy. I think it was your third break up with Beck, you called in the middle of the night crying and she freaked out after. Said you were “disrespecting” her and a bunch of other ridiculous things.”

“If you knew they were ridiculous then why did it work?” You asked softly, not wanting the others to overhear.

He wanted to tell you that it worked because it seemed like his only escape from you, that maybe a clean break from you was what he needed to really get over you for good. But here he was, all these years later and still hopelessly in love with you.

Again, he chose to tell you half of the truth. “She told me she was pregnant, but I found out she was lying four months later. First thing I wanted to do was call you and apologize, maybe cry a bit, but I was too embarrassed that I did what I did to you..”

“Buck..”

“No, please don’t. I shouldn’t have just cut you out, you didn’t deserve that.”

There wasn’t really anything to say to that, there wasn’t anything you wanted to say to that. Knowing didn’t make you feel better like you thought it would, truth be told it made you feel worse for reasons you couldn’t even admit to yourself. Instead you hit the blunt and silently offered it to him, slightly shocked when he took it.

On the other side of the fire, the twins were wrapped up in their own conversation while Leslie was silently watching you and Bucky through the flames.

“Hey guys,” she whispered to the twins, “did Yn and Bucky ever date?”

“Ew, gross.”

“No, why?”

If a stranger were to walk past and see the way you two were looking at each other, they would probably think you are dating. “Are you both blind? Actually, that’s offensive to the  blind, even they would know what I’m talking about.”

Pietro looked over to see you both laughing and other than you sitting a little close to Bucky, he didn’t see what his girlfriend was talking about, but Wanda did.

Around nine you texted Alex for a ride since everyone was too drunk to drive, Wanda chose to just sleep on her brother's couch instead. Once you were in his car he put your seatbelt on for you, “Someone’s in a good mood.”

“I just missed you.”

“Can I spend the night? I missed you too.” You said, trying to get as close to him as you could.

“Anything you want baby.” He was keeping his eyes on the road, but you didn’t miss the smile on his face.

“Then can we go to Cookout? I’d kill for a milkshake.”

“Already headed in that direction.” It wasn’t a guarantee he was going to change in the long run, but right now he was putting in effort and that’s all that mattered.

perm tags (46/50): @stuckonjbbarnes​ @valkyriesryde​ @hopesbarnes​ @superavengerpotterstar​ @estillion14​ @sleepingspacedragon​ @geeksareunique​ @imsoft-barnes​ @murdermornings​ @distractedgemini​ @screaming-fridge​ @readeity​ @whatinthyworld​ @my-drowning-in-time​ @buggy-blogs​ @hey-its-grey​ @pinknerdpanda​ @brokenthelovely​ @theannoyingnightmarecollector​ @death-unbecomes-you​ @rhymesmenagerie​ @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog​ @https-bucky​ @also-fangirlinsweden​ @goalexis123​ @missmeganrachel​ @sunflowersandcherry​ @miraclesoflove​ @matsumama​ @reann-loves-sebstan​ @thinkoutsidethebex​ @thefridgeismybestie​ @niall2017​ @maddope​ @imagine-all-the-imagines​ @thummbelina​ @m3ga1nsp1r3d​ @romaniansweetheart​ @thebadassbitchqueen​ @king-sebb​ @nerdy-bookworm-1998​ @bonkyboinkybucky​ @slaytherinthoughts​ @kingkassam​ @anti-the-glitch-bitch​ @poppunkdork​

series tags (2/25): @rebekahdawkins​ @writerwrites​

[jaskiersvalley]

Ok look, whenever i think that i finished reading all of ur ficlets, an old one will come up, and im left to wonder if i actually read everything. I think ive scrolled for about a week now and still not sure if ive read everything. In all seriousness tho, i love ur writings so much. I hope u kee writing bcs damn

Sometimes I think back to this ask and wonder whether you have managed to read everything or if there’s still some surprises in stock for you. I really hope that, no matter where you got to, you’ve continued enjoying the stories you find.

Today, I have something a little less usual to offer. It’s Gersakier but Geralt isn’t interested in sex, however he loves indulging Jaskier and also watching. So...have some Jaskier/Cahir with voyeur Geralt.

Mead, Weed and a Place to Breed

Novigrad was one of the last places on the continent where anyone could have a drink and not be harassed for merely existing. It was why Geralt liked it, Jaskier loved it for the simple fact that there was no judgement about practically anything. Sure, murder was frowned upon but that was only to be expected. However, he could sit on Geralt’s lap and eye fellow patrons up.

“Someone caught your eye, Buttercup?” Geralt asked, a hand rubbing over Jaskier’s thigh. He was into his third tankard of mead while Jaskier was still nursing his first goblet of wine.

“Mhm,” Jaskier sipped his drink, eyes fixed to a corner of the room. “In that dark corner, not brooding as pretty as you but comes a close second. Maybe third if Eskel would actually brood.”

Following his gaze, Geralt nodded appreciatively, Jaskier always did manage to find people who danced the line between pretty and rugged. This man was no different, Nilfgaardian armour, high cheekbones and the hints of a frowning pout. Absolutely the kind of person Jaskier favoured.

“Will you approach him?”

In reply, Jaskier hopped up and sashayed across the room, easily perching on on the startled man’s lap. Geralt knew exactly when Jaskier laid out his offer because the man’s eyes darted up to him, darkening with lust. It seemed that Jaskier had done it again.

Sure enough, not three minutes later they were emptying their drinks and Geralt took it as a cue to do the same. As he put his tankard down, he watched Jaskier lead the man by the hand towards him.

“Geralt, this is Cahir.” He introduced. “Cahir, Geralt, he’s my witcher and he likes to watch.”

“I have no problem with an audience.” It was exactly what Geralt liked to hear. “You got a room, Dandelion?”

The nickname didn’t even elicit a jealous frown from Geralt. He called Jaskier his Buttercup, most people called him Jaskier, and a few, rare partners were allowed Dandelion. It must have meant Cahir said or did the right thing to earn the right. This just made Geralt’s interest pique more.

They walked to the back of the tavern, to the rooms that could be bought for a night or two. Jaskier had managed to get one that wasn’t an absolute shit hole, it had a decent sized bed and a table with two chairs. There was just enough room to put the chair against the wall and watch what happened on the bed from a comfortable distance.

That was the thing. Geralt had absolutely zero desire to be the one on the bed. Sex didn’t appeal to him, he physically could enjoy it but mentally it was more of a chore than anything else. It was a sharp contrast to Jaskier who was happiest when his legs were spread or his mouth was full. After a few lacklustre rolls in a bed or by a campfire, they had agreed that it just wasn’t working. Well, not physically anyway. Because they still adored each other, Geralt loved being able to cuddle and touch without Jaskier flinching away. Meanwhile, Jaskier absolutely doted on Geralt, fussed over his every whim and need. They made each other happy even if they weren’t a conventional couple. Especially when it came to matters of the bedroom. Geralt had seen how Jaskier held back, tried to curb his physical needs because he was devoted to Geralt. It had led to a few conversations and the agreement that Jaskier could have anyone he wanted as long as Geralt could watch. Because Geralt loved watching Jaskier mindless with pleasure, it was so much better to see him rather than miss half his reactions because he was too busy trying to coax them from him.

In the room, no time was wasted being coy. Jaskier all but raced Cahir to get naked and on the bed first. It made Geralt smile fondly at his antics, always knowing exactly what he wanted and how. Jaskier was not shy in bed.

Sitting back, Geralt watched as the two knelt on the bed, facing each other. The kisses were heated, Jaskier seemingly yielding but only in that he encouraged Cahir to lick between his parted lips, coaxing him into something deeper and filthier.

Sometimes a bed partner might keep glancing to Geralt, wondering whether he was joining in, almost fearful of it. Thankfully, Cahir seemed to have no such worries about having a witcher watch him get it on with his boyfriend. Instead, he actually appeared to relish the audience, hands roaming and feeling Jaskier’s muscles, resting to frame them before moving on. Such a show was most definitely appreciated by Geralt.

Not that Jaskier was lying back and letting Cahir do all the work. He was mouthing against any skin he found, hand teasing along Cahir’s shaft, humming in pleasure at what he found.

“I want you to fuck me. Show me what they teach you in Nilfgaard.” His eyes were fixed on Cahir as he spoke. “Fuck the air from my lungs and fill me with your come.”

Some slick was pressed into Cahir’s hands and he didn’t hesitate in working Jaskier open. There was something especially pleasing about watching Jaskier’s mouth fall open, especially when Cahir took his cock between his lips. The way Jaskier’s muscles flexed as he rocked down on the fingers opening him up before pushing up into Cahir’s mouth. Geralt watched with contentment, knowing that Jaskier was getting everything he wanted.

“If you don’t get your dick in me, I will come down your throat and leave you hanging,” Jaskier growled, wriggling impatiently.

Thankfully, Cahir seemed to take it in good spirit and pulled away laughing, patting Jaskier on the thigh for good measure. “Whatever your lordship demands.”

“Damn right. Did I tell you I’m a viscount?”

Still grinning, Cahir rearranged them a little, Jaskier on his back, near the edge of the bed, his legs thrown over Cahir’s shoulders. It was a testament to how flexible Jaskier was, something that had Geralt surprised at times too.

As soon as Cahir pushed into him, Jaskier was making demands again, “Put those muscles to use, go harder.”

Incredibly, rather object, Cahir obeyed which had Jaskier crooning. “I could feel you twitch. You like it when I boss you around. Tell you to go faster-” he broke off with a groan as Cahir pressed forward, almost bending him in half, “-oh fuck, that’s it. Knew you would be good.”

Tipping his head back, it dangled off the edge of the bed so Jaskier could wink at Geralt before his lips formed an ‘oh’ of surprise.

“That right there. Do it again!”

As asked, Cahir repeated the motion but slower, rolling his hips deep and Jaskier arched. “Fucking faster! Don’t you dare slow down now.”

Huffing in entertainment, Cahir did as told. “As the little lordling wishes.”

Geralt could see the flush spreading down Jaskier’s neck and chest. Sweat made him glisten and Cahir was not much different either. They made for a very pretty picture, Jaskier bossy and demanding Cahir fuck him properly. The sound of skin on skin, the smell of it all, it wasn’t as offensive to Geralt when he wasn’t in the midst of it all. Plus, he got to watch as Cahir’s muscles started to shake from the exertion, Jaskier’s voice broke as he barked for more.

Sitting back, Geralt smiled as Jaskier’s hand wound into Cahir’s hair and pulled, their kiss more of a messy exchange of panted breaths than anything else. Something about the whole scene had Geralt slouching in his chair, legs falling open. It was quite the view, watching Cahir fuck his boyfriend quite so thoroughly.

“Right there. Fuck!” Jaskier was teetering on the edge and Geralt could happily appreciate how Cahir had been holding back until he was certain Jaskier was right there with him. As Jaskier came, he tipped his head back to lazily grin at Geralt, making sure he was still okay with things.

Most surprisingly, Cahir wasn’t pulling out and rushing out as soon as he was done. Instead, he kissed playfully along Jaskier’s jaw, nosing along his cheek with a smile.

“You okay there?”

It was the kind of care Geralt so rarely witnessed from Jaskier’s lovers, who were too eager the leave the presence of a witcher once they’d had their fun. Yet there was no jealousy as Jaskier turned his attention back to Cahir with a wide, lopsided smile and tugged at the hair that fell forward.

“More than.”

A few more kisses were exchanged before Cahir moved, helping Jaskier ease his legs down and giving them a quick rub.

“Guess this is where I bid you both a good night,” he said, wiping himself down with a cloth from the washbowl.

“You know,” Jaskier drawled, shamelessly sprawled on the bed still, “if we’re ever in Nilfgaard, I would love to look you up again.”

Cahir shook his head. “You’ll never find me there. Try Vicovaro. I’m heading back home.”

He was mostly dressed and Geralt didn’t miss the pout on Jaskier’s face. It was obvious that he had found a playmate he wasn’t done with yet. Maybe Geralt could see about taking a few contracts as far as Vicovaro.

“And if we were there, how would we find you?” Geralt asked, giving his permission for there to be more between his boyfriend and Cahir. “I doubt if I asked around, I could find you on a first name only.”

Cahir’s hand was on the latch to the door, ready to leave. He turned with a cheeky grin. “Just ask for the count.” Stepping out of the door, he turned with one final nod. “Witcher. Viscount.”

And like that, he was gone. Jaskier dropped his head back to the bed with a groan.

“I can’t believe he outranked me.”

Geralt snorted and settled on the bed, opening up an arm for Jaskier to snuggle in. He still smelled of another man and sex but that was okay.

“I think he outranked you in more than just title,” he teased and got a halfhearted smack to the arm for it. They both knew he was right and Jaskier was going to be demanding more. Nothing for it, Geralt was just going to have to find a contract he couldn’t refuse in Vicovaro. Maybe he could even find a contract to escort a count home, it was a dangerous road to travel after all.