#and like it’s literally community college like they can’t kick me out

[sscrambledmeggss]

me when i repeatedly cry about being a cringefail girl

#LIKE i have a placement test to take #and like it’s literally community college like they can’t kick me out #but i was homeschooled all my life and i immediately panic and forget everything when put into a stressful situation LMAO #like if i’m put into a unfamiliar setting i notice how loud it is and how weird it smells #etc etc and i get so overwhelmed like a loser 😫 #and like i also have an ego so i don’t want to get a bad placement #so i keep giving myself anxiety attacks lol which obviously does not help #anyways the test is in like 3 days so i will either comeback pleasantly surprised or defeated #god gives his toughest battles to his silliest clowns or something idk #meg’s incoherent thoughts #tw vent

[latetaektalk]

love to hate you | jjk [vii]

“when obnoxiously rich and spoiled frat boy jeon jungkook comes up to you one day and asks you to fake date him for money, you definitely should have said no. because before you knew it, you were going on insta dates with him and having lunch with his equally obnoxiously rich and spoiled friends.”

— genre: sexual themes, angst, fluff, fratboy! AU, fake dating! AU, college! AU, rich kid! AU, enemies to lovers! AU

— pairing: jungkook x female reader

— word count: 17.966

— warnings: swearing/cursing, alcohol consumption, jealousy, no communication skills whatsoever

— playlist: to be added

— a/n: after almost two years of no update its done. it would be a lie to say that i was always one hundred percent sure this was gonna see the light of day but its finally here, and im so so so happy to just put it out there and give it to you guys. @koocycle has listened to me bitch abt this one so much so thanks to her, also for kinda inspiring me to get back into tumblr.com and writing !! enjoy!! and once again, this is inspired by To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before by Jenny Han!

“You’re really showing your wealth, you know?” you said as Jungkook slid into the driver’s seat, shutting out the cold air. He raised a brow, handing you the bag for you to hold onto, shivering slightly from the cold, his neck exposed to the harsh wind.

“How so?”

The engine sputtered to life as he slotted in the keys, his phone mounted to the dashboard, showing him the way. You pulled out the one-hundred-dollar expensive wine bottle from the bag, scrutinising it. Some of the glitter from the red ribbon the salesman had wrapped around it in an effort to be more festive and fitting today’s occasion peeled off. 

“This is too much.”

“Yeah, I know, the bow’s tacky but I couldn’t stop Kangjoon from-”

“No, I mean the hundred bucks you dropped on it. It shows your wealth,” you repeated, scrunching your nose. “Also, didn’t know you were on a first name basis with the salesman.”

You let the bottle slip back into its bag, scared Jungkook was going to make a sharp stop and cause you to drop and waste the bottle. God knows you didn’t have one hundred bucks casually lying around like him—even though you were sure Jungkook wouldn’t make you replace it and would definitely just buy it again himself.

“What? Don’t tell me you didn’t like Kangjoon? He’s a great man, very competent.” And just as you were about to tell him that Kangjoon scammed him, Jungkook continued, “Also isn’t that the whole reason why you’re dating me? My wealth?” 

He said it with a grin, turning to you as he let a family of four pass, receiving a thankful hand raise from both of the parents as they ushered their young children across the street. And even though he meant it purely as a joke, his smile and tone indicating as much, his words made you scrunch your face like you’d been stung by a bee. 

“It’s so unnecessary. We wouldn’t know the difference between this and supermarket wine, and Chae literally said not to bring anything. She’s gonna scold you, you know?”

If it had gone your way, you’d have gotten the second cheapest bottle of semi-fancy alcohol they had and called it a day but Jungkook swiped his card before you could intervene, ever so easily charmed. Well, actually if it had gone your way at all, you wouldn’t have brought anything to begin with. Chaeyoung hated it if her guests brought anything anyway.

“Gotta impress your friends, don’t I? Can’t have them not like me,” he argued, and you rolled your eyes.

“First of all, no, you don’t-”

“You don’t want your friends to like your boyfriend?” Jungkook gasped, staring at you with his mouth agape and eyes wide as you came to a stop in front of a red light. You shook your head.

“No, can I speak?” you sighed, frowning as Jungkook laughed, clearly getting his kick out of annoying you. “My friends already like you, and you know that. We’re driving to Ji’s and Chae’s place now for a Christmas party. One that you were explicitly invited to. So I don’t believe you for a second when you say that you got this wine to impress them. Also, Chae said not to bring anything. You just like spending money.”

Jungkook pursed his lips, trying and failing to hide a grin. “Do I now?”

“Am I not exhibit A?”

He gave you a look as if to say touché.

“Okay, maybe you’re right,” he admitted. “But just so you know, I gladly spent my money on that wine if it means I’ll impress your friends and make them like me more. And I’m even more than happy to spend it on you, cabbage.”

He looked at you by the end of his words, flashing you a grin. A grin that made him look so pretty and adorable, that would have made your knees buckle if you hadn’t been sitting, that wrapped your heart into his grip even tighter. A grin that made you wonder if a parachute would be enough to stop your fall for him, or if you were simply doomed for this fate, for the bone crushing landing.

You turned your head to the window, glad to see you had made it to Jisoo’s and Chaeyoung’s place.

“I think you’re just happy to have an excuse to spend your money,” you mumble, pretending to busy yourself with the straps of the bag.

“Sure—” There was a shrug, and you should have prepared yourself for the worst, should know better by now that Jungkook couldn’t just agree with you and leave you in peace. “—or you’re just the love of my life, cabbage, and what’s mine is yours.”

The words remained casual on Jungkook’s tongue, easy as ever. And they remained difficult and frown-inducing for you. 

“You’re-!”

A laugh bubbled up from Jungkook’s upon your silence, and though you were trying your deepest and most desperate to resist, your heart skipped a beat. It was fatal, cardiologists would say. How deeply you’d fallen, it was fatal. Your heart couldn’t be saved.

And as if he hadn’t said the most impossible thing ever, Jungkook pulled into the parking lot and turned off the engine, a grin plastered on his lips.

“Alright, let’s-”

You yanked the door open, stepping (of course) in a puddle. With a groan and wince, you slammed the door shut. Your breath came out white and cloudy, December coming into its full swing. The weather had been harsher than ever—wind dragging on your skin until it was painful and tense, air cold enough to dry out your throat and mouth, every window coloured a milky white, and clouds hanging far and wide in the sky for every hour of the day. The urge to crawl back into the oh so warm car was strong. The urge to run away from Jungkook however was just that much stronger. 

The bottle bumped your hip bone as you rushed towards Jisoo’s and Chaeyoung’s apartment building. You didn’t turn around as Jungkook called after you to wait with a laugh, fumbling to unhook his phone from the dashboard. 

You reached the glass front door rather quickly, a handprint smudged across it that hadn’t been there last time. You cringed, but couldn’t think about it too much, worrying a lot more about the diminishing distance between Jungkook and you as you waited for one of your friends to open the stupid door for you. You knew for a fact they were already there, spotting Hoseok’s car parked on the side of the street. If he was there, Jimin was too, always catching a ride with him.

“Do you really think you can outrun me?” Jungkook called out, just a dozen steps behind you. 

You pulled on the front door as if it made a difference, pressing the bell repeatedly. He slowed his walk, burying his hands into his pockets. All so very smug. Your features twisted into a frown. 

“You’re so slow. You always run from me as if I won’t catch up with you in two-”

For once fate seemed to be on your side, the buzzer cutting through the air. The door almost hit you in the face when you yanked it open. You slammed it back shut again, just right in front of Jungkook’s nose. He pulled on the handle. The lock had clicked in. You watched his features twist as he realised he was too slow. His lips pressed together, curling inwards as he watched the biggest and proudest grin spread on yours.

“What were you saying? About me being too slow?” you said. A smile tucked on the corners of his mouth as he shook his head at you.

“Open up.”

He knocked on the glass, right in front of your nose.

“What? I can’t hear you.”

You put your hand to your ear, tilting your head.

“Just open up.”

“You gotta speak louder. I really can’t hear you with this door between-”

“Cabbage, you better open the door for me now, or I’m gonna make you regret it,” Jungkook said, narrowing his eyes, tongue poking in his cheek. And even though you were certain it was an empty threat—how was he going to make you regret it?—, you contemplated for just a second if maybe you should listen and open the door. 

“I’m gonna count to three.”

You scoffed. Were you a kid? And even more so, what was Jungkook going to do to you? Were you going to cave because of an empty threat? 

“Please do,” you smiled, eliciting one from Jungkook himself.

“Three.”

He raised a brow.

“Two.”

You folded your arms in front of your chest.

“One.”

A moment passed. 

Nothing happened.

“Alright, fine,” Jungkook said before dramatically ringing the bell. And even though you rolled your eyes, you did inch back. He was going to chase you, that one was for sure. 

The moment the buzzer rang, you took off. Jungkook let out a laugh.

“Now, you run?” he taunted, pulling the door open, his steps echoing through the hallway. You took two stairs at a time, yelping when you realised that Jungkook was hot on your tail. Maybe you should have run earlier. Or maybe you should have opened the door for him. But who were you, letting a guy threaten you? No less Jungkook of all people, that idiot.

You made it up the flight of stairs faster than you ever had, your lungs lit on fire. The front door already stood ajar for you. You could distantly hear Chaeyoung call out for Jisoo- A hand wrapped around your waist and pulled you back. Jungkook stood right in front of you, chest bumping into you, the biggest grin on his lips.

Shit.

“Gotcha.”

Your face soured.

“Oh, h-how are you?” you coughed with a smile, and he chuckled, never taking his eyes off of you even as he grabbed the bag from your hands and placed it down. You had completely forgotten about it. “Don’t look at me like this. T-that’s not fun.”

“Neither was having the door slammed in my face.” 

You backed into the wall. Turns out being tough was a lot more difficult when there wasn’t a door to shield you and Jungkook was actually in front of you, just centimetres from your face and staring at you like you were his favourite thing in this entire world. His hand sneaked around your waist, slipping underneath your sweater, fingers grazing the small of your back. His touch was light and delicate, teasing in all the right ways. It was cold too, making you arch and almost wince. And it was all too much—a tingle spreading across your back, rushing straight to your heart.

“Any last words before I make you regret it?” Jungkook hummed, and you should snort and laugh because he should sound ridiculous. But somehow, his words made you tense, the mere thought making your head spin in rounds and rounds. You bit on your tongue, silencing any sound that might just want to crawl up your throat.

You shouldn’t let Jungkook be this close to you. You needed distance for your sanity. But you couldn’t bring it over your heart to push him away. You didn’t have it in you. Not when there was very much a part of you that wanted to find out what Jungkook exactly meant.

He drank you up with his eyes, gaze dark and full of something hazy. Full of something you couldn’t pinpoint. But you loved it, you did. Maybe a little too much even. You loved the way it made your heart thump and rumble in your chest, made you forget that this was too much and far and dangerous, that Jungkook and you should keep your distance because in just a few weeks all of this would be over and you’d go your merry ways. But right now, with your back against the wall and Jungkook caging you in, thrill and excitement rushing through every single one of your cells, you couldn’t stop. You didn’t think you ever could.

“Got nothing to say now, cabbage?”

And when you still wouldn’t respond, he smiled. His face inched closer to yours, his nose brushing yours. Your fingers itched to hold onto something, onto him, curling and uncurling in the air. Because you shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t. But you did, hands gripping his sweater as if you were lost in the sea and he was all you had to cling to. 

You closed your eyes, anticipating and waiting for Jungkook to kiss you, your breath stuck in your chest. Any time now. It was going to happen-

“Oh my God, please don’t do this in my hallway.”

You whipped your head around, your heart dropping to the floor. Jisoo stood in the doorway, face twisted in utter disgust.

“Please, anywhere but my fucking hallway. That's all I’m gonna be able to think about. Seeing the two of you eating each other’s faces.”

There was even clearer disgust in her voice.

Oh God.

“Hello, Ji,” Jungkook smiled, and you expected him to back away from you, but he gave you no distance. He wasn’t even the slightest embarrassed, if anything you sensed the slightest annoyance swinging with his words.

“Please step away from her, Kook,” Jisoo asked, gesturing for him to move backwards. But he wasn’t all too eager to follow, staying cemented right in front of you, hands still around your waist. He paused to think.

“I’ve got a really expensive bottle of wine.” He pointed to the bag. “I’ll give it to you in exchange for five more minutes.”

“Oh, you brought something? Chae’s gonna kill you,” Jisoo laughed before changing her tune, tilting her head to the side. “But how expensive are we talking?”

“Like one hundred bucks.”

You stared holes into Jungkook, mouth agape. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Were you not right here too? Did you become air? It was like you were cattle being sold off. 

“Oh,” Jisoo gasped before shrugging. “Okay, deal-”

“Yeah, no way,” you laughed before doing what you should have done earlier—you pushed Jungkook away, making him tumble backwards a little. You stepped around him. 

“But, Y/N, it’s one hundred-”

“Ji!” you gasped, making her laugh and reach out for you. She wrapped her arms around your neck, giggling as she did. 

“I’m kidding. I’m kidding. I would never,” she told you, and you raised a brow at her. “Right, Kook?”

“Yeah, we were just kidding.”

“I don’t- hey! I can see you two exchanging looks!” you gasped, neither of the two even trying to be subtle. “Do you think I’m blind?”

“Ha, funny, I think-” Jisoo cleared her throat. “—I think Chae is calling for me? Oh my God, do you hear that? Yes, I’m on my way, Chae!”

And as if she hadn’t just stabbed you in the back, she slipped inside. But not without grabbing the bag and thanking Jungkook for it. You rolled your eyes, turning to head inside when he cleared his throat.

Jungkook was staring at you with his brows raised, clearly expecting… something. 

“What?” you barked. He gave you a smile before stretching out his hand. You groaned. “Seriously? We have to get inside-”

But he waved his hand around, not budging. Rolling your eyes and with a long exhale, you took his hand into yours. 

“You’re a child-”

Jungkook pulled you towards him, shutting you up with a kiss. One hand cupped your cheek and the other rested on the small of your back, pushing you into him. The kiss was tender and soft, gentle and light. And still, it was enough to have your heart thumping louder and harder in your chest than ever before. You asked yourself if Jungkook could feel it at all. That heart of yours that was oh so tight in his grip. That heart of yours that was bleeding in your chest. That heart of yours already ached at the thought of this all ending in just a few weeks. 

It was a lovely kiss, a devastatingly lovely kiss.

And when Jungkook pulled away, his eyes so full and beautiful, you felt gutted and empty. Because this meant nothing to him. This meant nothing at all. You looked away. Jungkook laughed, pulling you flush to his side, all too unaware.

“Let’s go?”

You nodded slightly. 

Jimin was first to greet you, leaping up from the couch and pulling you into a hug. “You made it!”

“Took you long enough,” Taehyung mumbled, sipping on his beer, earning himself a look from Namjoon that he simply ignored. “We could hear you two yelling around in the hallway.”

“Merry Christmas to you too, Tae,” Jungkook laughed, and the older one frowned at him. 

“It’s December 10th.”

“In other words, it’s almost-”

“No, it’s not-”

Hoseok greeted you with a hug, ignoring Taehyung’s and Jungkook’s bickering because otherwise he would never get to say hello to you. “Looking good.”

“Thanks.” You stared at his sweater. “That’s one really ugly Christmas sweater.”

He laughed, thanking you. Seokjin and Namjoon were next to give you a quick hug, followed by Jennie and Yoongi, exchanging a few words with each of them. Taehyung and you stared at each other for a few seconds, neither of you saying anything. And though he tried to hide it, a smile formed on his lips. A smile you could only return. You blamed it on the holidays. They made you especially sappy and sentimental.

You were first to reach out. Taehyung reciprocated the hug. It was a little awkward and short and one-armed. It was more than anyone could ask of you. Jungkook nodded in both amazement and approval when you caught his eyes for a split second, and you just scrunched your nose at him.

“So how-”

You tuned out Seokjin, taking a minute to admire the decoration around you instead. Chaeyoung (because Jisoo wasn’t particularly all too fond of Christmas, but did put up with all of it because Chaeyoung very much was) always outdid herself every holiday season: red little fuzzy stockings hanging off shelves and cupboard knobs, cinnamon-scented candles lit up all throughout the place, miniature Santa and reindeer figurines sitting on every surface alongside bowls of chocolates and peppermints with fake snow underneath. There was even a small fake Christmas tree crammed into the corner of their living room with colourful baubles (some of which Jimin had gifted and had pictures of you all printed on them) and equally colourful fairy lights hanging on it. And of course, Michael Bublé was on heavy rotation, his voice carried throughout the home. 

“Where’s Chae?” you asked Jisoo when she came up next to you, both of you standing in front of the Christmas tree. 

“Oh, you know-”

“Ah, great, you guys finally made it as well,” Chaeyoung exhaled, coming out from the kitchen, and seeing Jungkook and you among the other guests. There was a slight edge accompanying her words, and you doubted for no second that her nerves were running high from having to host tonight and needing all of this to turn out perfect. (Even if she chose this fate upon herself.) Her updo was falling apart, strands sticking out in the wrong places. Still, she looked pretty. Especially with her reindeer apron tied around her waist. She had had it since middle school, and seeing it brought back all kinds of memories. You couldn’t help but grin, Jisoo and you exchanging looks. And when your gaze met Chaeoyung’s, she knew. She rolled her eyes, shaking her head. 

“Yeah, I know,” she mumbled, speaking to you too only and confusing the others in the process. Jisoo and you snickered. 

“Anyway—” Chaeyoyung waved her hand around, “—I’ve got some unfortunate news. Dinner isn’t ready. I’ll need at least another thirty minutes. Hope you guys didn’t come too hungry.”

“Do you need help with anything?” Jungkook asked, already getting up from the couch. Yoongi raised his hand, silently extending the offer as well. Jennie nodded, clearly willing to get her hands dirty too.

“Yeah, anything we can do to help you?” Taehyung asked, making an effort to get up too, but Chaeyoung was quick to shake her head.

“No, I don’t need help,” she mumbled, clearing her throat. “I just wanted to inform you guys. You all would help if you guys just busied yourself and didn’t come into the kitchen.”

And before anyone could insist on their help, Chaeyoung disappeared back inside the kitchen.

“Shouldn’t we-?”

“If you wanna stay on her good side, don’t take a single step into the kitchen. Don’t even breathe in that direction, or think about helping her,” Jisoo explained, and Jungkook looked at you as if to ask if this was exaggerated at all.

“Yeah, Chae’s… very peculiar with that kind of stuff.”

“But there are so many of us. Is she really gonna do all of it on her own?” Jennie asked, but Hoseok waved her off. 

“Trust me, she is and she will. Chae gets super stressed, but she also loves to host. If you don’t let her, she’ll be in a bad mood for ages. It’s better to just let her do her own thing.”

“And if it actually gets too much, she’ll come out and ask for help at one point. Trust me,” Jimin added.

“You think? I’m not so sure about that one,” Jisoo snorted and moved over to grab a handful of chocolates. Almost instinctively, she placed a hand on Jennie’s shoulder, and for a moment, you wondered if Jungkook and you ever looked this natural and comfortable with each other. If you looked as much as a couple as Jisoo and Jennie did. “When has she ever asked for help?”

“There’s no way she can do all of this on her own,” Taehyung said, frowning.

“You don’t know Chae.”

“Maybe. But it seems humanly impossible to pull off this entire thing without asking for at least some help.”

Jisoo raised her brow at Taehyung, pausing a moment. “Oh, do you wanna bet?” Her mouth pulled into a grin at the mere prospect of making some easy money. “Ten bucks?”

Hoseok and you exchanged glances over their heads. This was very much typical of Jisoo. 

“Don’t bet with her, Tae. She’s a scammer,” Jimin said, pushing Jisoo’s hand away as she waited for him to shake it.

“I won’t,” Taehyung laughed, taking a sip from his beer. “You know I don’t do-”

The ear-shattering sound of a pan clashing with the kitchen tiles emerged from the kitchen, followed up with a few loud curses and an “It’s fine!”. You cringed when something else you couldn’t identify fell to the floor a second later, eliciting even more curses. Almost instinctively, you turned to Jisoo, nudging her. Because as much as she was right that it was a bad idea to go help Chaeyoung, it would actually be worse not to go in right now when everything seemed to go off the rails.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. My cue to jump in,” she grumbled, begrudgingly making her way to the kitchen, knowing already she would have to endure Chaeyoung’s snappy attitude. She squeezed Jennie’s hand in goodbye. 

“See, she’s getting help,” Taehyung said to no one in particular and righteously took a sip from his beer. Jungkook applauded him sarcastically, and you were about to say something when-

“Oh, this is cute!” Seokjin gasped, coming up to you. You followed his gaze to the bauble he was admiring. It had an old picture of you and your friends on it, faces curving around the porcelain. “How old are you guys there?”

You pursed your lips. “That’s probably senior year? So like seventeen maybe? Eighteen?”

“What are you guys doing- oh my God, you guys look so young.” Namjoon hooked an arm around Seokijn’s shoulder, marvelling at your younger selves. “Look at that one!”

He pointed out one with just Jisoo, Chaeyoung and you on it. It was one of the first pictures you three had taken together. All three of you still stuck in middle school. You couldn’t decide whether to be embarrassed or nostalgic.

“Is that Ji? Her hair, oh my God!” Seokjin laughed, pointing out the blunt bob Jisoo used to rock.

“Don’t be mean!” And yet, Namjoon laughed too.

“You’re lucky Ji can’t hear you right now because she’d kill you,” you said. “But actually, you should see some of Seok’s old pictures. He looks so different-”

A hand snaked around your waist. You tensed. But you relaxed a second later when you realised who it was. You peeked over your shoulder just to check and smiled when you turned out to be right. He placed his chin on your shoulder.

“Hello,” Jungkook whispered, and you squirmed, his breath tickling your ear. He was so close to you, too close. You could practically feel his heart beating behind yours.

“Hey,” you returned, a bit breathless and pitchy. You cleared your throat.

“What are you guys doing?”

“Oh, uh, nothing really,” you mumbled, waving your hand around.

Jungkook frowned, but didn’t ask any further. “Okay, well, I wanted to get you something to drink. You think I can go into the kitchen without getting murdered?”

“Yeah, you’re fine. Ji’s there too,” you said, glancing over your shoulder to meet his gaze. He was already looking at you, eyes big and so full and a smile on his lips.

“Okay, then do you want anything in particular?”

You shook your head. “Uh, no, whatever is fine.”

“Whatever it is.”

But rather than just leave to get you said drink, Jungkook lingered, not moving away from you just yet. You raised a brow at him, making him smile. As if he could read your mind, he loosened his grip around your waist, but not before pressing a kiss to your neck.

“Getting you that drink,” he smiled, backing away. 

You touched a hand to where he had kissed you, gripping, feeling hot all of a sudden. It was stupid, you were stupid. 

“Jesus.”

And albeit, it was quiet and muttered under his breath, you heard it very clearly. You looked at Seokjin, eyes big as he stared back at you with a grin on his lips. There was a fondness in his eyes, a look you always saw on Jimin’s face. Namjoon wore it too.

“What?” you asked when the expression wouldn’t disappear.

“It’s just-” 

He sighed and shook his head.

“What?” you repeated, but Seokjin wouldn’t continue.

“You guys are just cute,” Namjoon supplied.

“Oh, please,” you scoffed, shaking your head.

“You guys are exactly like Jin and Mina used to be,” Yoongi said, coming up next to you, having witnessed the entire exchange from his spot on the couch.

“What?” you laughed, shaking your head over and over again. “I have no idea what-”

“Don’t deny it, Y/N,” Namjoon laughed and looked at you.

“It’s gross really,” Yoongi scoffed, taking a sip from his beer. “How smitten he is for you. How happy and—” He shuddered for the drama of it all but wore a smile on his lips. “—stupidly in love you two are.”

Wait, what?

“It’s cute,” Seokjin corrected, and you stared at him with stunned silence. 

“Is it though?”

“Don’t be like that, Yoongs. When have you ever seen Kook this happy before?” 

The question, though not directed at you at all, made you freeze. And when you looked at Yoongi and he made no effort to disagree, you froze.

“You make him really happy,” Namjoon said with a smile and tilted his head when you didn’t speak or react at all, giving your shoulder a light squeeze. “You know that, right?”

His words hit you like a ton of bricks, crashing down on you and compressing your lungs. Because, no, you didn’t. You didn’t think about it ever, and why would you? It never seemed possible to you because it simply wasn’t possible you made Jungkook happy. You didn’t have that power over him.

Was this really how you looked like to others—two people who were in love and happy? It sounded ridiculous to you, impossible. So much so, you just had to shake your head and wave your hand around as if the words loomed in front of you and had to be physically dismissed. Your heart banged in your ribcage, loud and far too heavy.

“You guys are exaggerating!” you chuckled, voice wavering the slightest bit. “This has nothing to do with me- Finals are over and it’s Christmas, so obviously-”

A single look from them was all it took to silence you. They didn’t have to say a word for you to know what they were collectively thinking.

“Y/N, don’t be ridiculous,” Seokjin said.

“For god’s sake, just look at that boy,” Yoongi laughed, pointing behind you, and your gaze followed his hand. Right then Jungkook came back with two drinks, one for you and one for him. 

He seemed surprised, stilling as he saw that you were all looking at him. But he recovered, mouth pulling into a big smile. Your eyes met his. You would have missed it if you hadn’t looked so close and paid attention to every little thing he did. But you saw it, the tiny smile he offered you, and only you. It was like a little secret. Just for you and him to know and share and see. 

Did you really make him happy?

“Why are you guys staring at me like that?” Jungkook laughed, coming to a stop in front of you and handing you your drink. You took it passively, and purely from the warmth, you knew it was your favourite, green tea. “Are you guys talking shit about me?”

“Oh, yeah, you know just the usual shit talking we do about you,” Namjoon snorted.

“Mhm, the usual stuff. How you always-”

Seokjin’s voice faded away when Jungkook moved closer to you, his arm already lifting to sneak around your middle. But you couldn’t do this. Not now.

“Sorry, I gotta pee,” you mumbled, wringing out of Jungkook’s grasp, his fingers just barely brushing your skin. You didn’t know who you interrupted, but you offered them all an apologetic look but you never quite looked at Jungkook. Your exit seemed natural enough though, you thought. No one made an effort to stop you.

Some of your drink spilt over when you put it down on the coffee table too quickly, and you even almost bumped into Hoseok, but rather than apologise properly and clean up your mess, you hurried into the bathroom. 

The moment the lock clicked shut behind you, you let yourself crumble, knees giving in. If only just a little. 

Oh God.

It wasn’t very environmentally friendly, not very Save the Turtles! kind of behaviour of you at all as you just let the water run and run into the sink and down the drain. You didn’t even wash your hands or face, just needing something to fill the silence as you sat on the edge of the bathtub and let yourself calm down.

You felt ridiculous. You truly did. Insane and crazy even. The behaviour you were exhibiting was probably therapist worthy. The panic. For what? And why? It was behaviour you never imagined yourself exhibiting. No less because of Jeon Jungkook. But here you were, playing his pretend girlfriend for money so he could win a bet. And you got all of your friends involved even! You should have really thought this through-

“Cabbage?”

And somehow, both dread and warmth crept up with his voice. You closed your eyes, thinking for a second to shut off the tap. It seemed just a little too exhausting to do that.

“Yeah?” 

“Are you good?”

“Yeah.”

It was quiet for a few seconds.

“Can I come in?”

“I’m peeing, Jeon.”

A lie. He knew. You knew.

“Fine, come in.”

When you wouldn’t move, Jungkook gave the door handle a try, surprised to see you hadn’t locked it. You had forgotten, and so he did it for you instead. The moment he saw you sitting on the edge of the bathtub with the tap carelessly running, he stopped, features folding into something nice, pleasant, empathetic.

“Stop,” you groaned, rolling your eyes and turning away from him, shutting off the tap as if that minimised how sad you had to look right now.

Jungkook chuckled, burying his hands into his pants, carefully walking towards you. He sat down next to you, knee pressed against yours. Neither of you pulled away. There was a part of you that should tell him to give you space, but you couldn’t. If anything, you turned a little to him.

“How are you always running off into the bathroom when you feel bad? It’s so obvious,” he mumbled, pinching your nose.

“Ow, stop!” you hissed, swatting his hand aside. 

He gave you a look, shaking his head, and you pouted like a child would. It made him chuckle, and you tensed when Jungkook put his head on yours, too tall to lean against your shoulder comfortably, his eyes falling shut. 

“What did they say?” Jungkook asked, breaking the silence after a while.

“What?”

“Joon and the others. What did they say to make you run off like that?”

You pressed your lips together, disliking that you were so easy to read.

“Who sent you?” you snorted, wanting to figure out which of your friends just earned themselves a plus point.

“No one.”

“What?” you blinked, and looked at him, but he kept his eyes closed. “So you-”

“No one sent me. I just… wanted to make sure you were fine myself.”

And hearing that was somehow utterly awful. Because it meant Jungkook cared. At least to some degree, at least enough to want to check on you. It meant that he was able to read you so easily, that he really knew you.

“Now, what did they say? You can tell me. I’ll talk to them for you. Or I won’t if you don’t want me-”

You shook your head, sighing. “Nothing. They said nothing.”

It was true. Because none of what Namjoon, Seokjin, and Yoongi said was worth running off. It wasn’t insulting, or hurtful. 

“Are you sure? Seriously, you can just tell me. I’d talk to-”

“I’m serious,” you interrupted, not even wanting to hear how far Jungkook would go for you. “They said nothing. I just had to pee.” You shrugged. “And I just needed a moment to breathe. It’s nothing. I promise.”

Jungkook sat up, glancing at you with his mouth pursed and eyes narrowed. “So just a moment to breathe?”

Your hand almost came up to cup his cheek, the urge to brush over the little scar on his cheekbone tempting you. It was difficult to resist when he was looking at you like that. There was this need, to plant your lips against his. Kiss him and assure him. But you didn’t let yourself. You turned your head to the other side, curling your hand around the cool porcelain of the bathtub until the skin stretched thin over your knuckles and almost hurt. Just anything but Jungkook and his stupidly pretty face.

“Just a moment to breathe,” you mumbled. 

Jungkook hummed, straightening up. He let his head hang for a few seconds before lifting it up again and turning to you.

“Is it fine if I stay with you then?”

It was a delicate question, an honest question, a devastating heartbreaking question. Because of course, he could. Of course! He could do anything, as long as he remained by your side. And that realisation, albeit not entirely new to you (you were aware of it to some degree all along), was mortifying. 

You closed your eyes, a knot forming in your throat. There was nothing for you to say, a silence stretching between you. A silence Jungkook took as a “yes”, and when his hand gripped yours, it was sealed for you. You didn’t pull away, put your head on his shoulder. What would be the use of resisting? What good would it do? What would it change? Nothing.

So you enjoyed it instead, the moment between him and you. For as long as you could. For now.

“We should probably get back out,” you mumbled when you heard the laughter get louder in the living room. 

“Probably.”

And yet, neither of you moved. A few more moments passed. It was the next bound of laughter that ripped you out.

“We should-”

“I think it’s time-”

You both stopped, nodding, knowing. Jungkook was first to get up, groaning like an old man before turning to you and offering you his hand. With one loud sigh, you took it, allowing him to pull you up. You shared a look and a smile.

It felt like you were walking into another world when you stepped outside, still holding hands. Before it was just Jungkook and you. Now it was everyone else too. And almost as if you had said that exact thought out loud, everyone looked at you as you walked back in. You stopped, the same way Jungkook had when he had returned and found you all staring at him. You frowned, the grin spreading on Jimin’s and Jisoo’s (When had she made it back?) faces worrying you. Jungkook seemed as clueless as you.

“What?”

No one said anything for a second. 

“Can I?” Jisoo asked, pleading with everyone else, and you narrowed your eyes. She was giddy, and her being giddy was never a good sign, especially for you. Most times it meant you’d be miserable.

“Do the honours,” Jimin said, gesturing for her to ahead.

Jisoo leaned back, grinning from ear to ear. She seemed to stretch the moment thin, take her sweet time to reveal to you what exactly entertained her so much. Jennie shook her head next to her, but she wore a smile on her lips, amused.

You kept close to Jungkook, almost instinctively. As if he could protect you. His hand brushed the small of your back, soothing. Taehyung’s irritating snicker grabbed your attention for a second, but before you could frown at him for it, Jisoo spoke,

“Look up.”

Fuck. You should have figured.

“Ah,” Jungkook laughed upon seeing the mistletoe above your heads. 

“You guys are funny,” you scoffed, shaking your head. “And very cute for thinking that we are gonna do-”

“You have to!” Jimin interjected, leaning forward and pointing at the two of you. “It’s the law. The rules of the game.”

You frowned, and the lines deepened even more when you saw everyone from Namjoon, Seokjin and Jennie to Taehyung, Hoseok, Yoongi and Jisoo nodding along. Of course, they found pleasure in your misery. 

“It’s bad luck if you don’t,” Hoseok reminded you of the stupid rules, and you could have thrown something at him. How was no one on your side?

“That’s… made up.”

“Well, if you wanna risk the bad luck, be my guest,” Hoseok chuckled, shrugging, and you rolled your eyes. 

“Oh, please, no one believes that!” 

But you were met with no ounce of support from anyone. You turned to Jungkook, expecting that he was equally as ticked off as you. But he seemed perfectly fine, his features not even slightly twisted into anything resembling irritation. If anything, he was smiling a little when you met his eyes. 

“I don’t know, I’m never one to tempt fate,” he said, and you couldn’t quite decide how to react. Jungkook reached for your hand again, playing with your fingers. “Why risk the bad luck? Also, it’s not like we have never kissed in front of them.” He grinned. “Remember how you jumped me and-”

“Oh my God, I didn’t jump you!” Your voice leapt up a few pitches too high and remained there when your friends began to laugh.

“Now that’s a lie. You practically threw yourself at-”

“Jeon!”

Jungkook cackled, and you could have strangled him right then and there. Your friends laughed too, and you would have snapped at them if your cheeks didn’t warm to an uncomfortable degree. To the point the blood boiled in your ears, so much so you didn’t even hear Namjoon’s holler about how it was just a kiss!

It wasn’t completely lost on you that it was stupid to be embarrassed, considering how boldly you had claimed Jungkook as yours in front of a room of strangers just a few weeks ago. Especially considering that all of your friends had a slight alcohol level going on anyway already and were most definitely moving on the second the kiss happened. But it was different. At the Halloween party, you were positively buzzed, your vision blurry and fuzzy. But more importantly, you were jealous to the point of turning green. It seemed so much more intimate to kiss Jungkook in front of everyone now. And so very vulnerable because you wanted to so much. Kiss him. You always did these days, yearned to. That desire scared you, was mortifying in more ways than you could describe, particularly in this moment because what if they could all sense it? What if Jungkook realised it all of a sudden? That you really wanted this? That your entire heart ached for him? 

And as if you had the fear written all over your face, Jungkook reached for you, tugging on your elbow and turning you back to him. He gave you a smile, his head tilted to the side. A few strands slipped out of his perfectly messy hair, and a soft shadow covered half his face. Right then, he seemed all so delicate to you, so good, so precious. It was instant, your heartbeat dwindled into something calmer and wilder at the same time. Somehow, it seemed almost easy and much more difficult to kiss him and pretend it didn’t dig daggers into your heart. None of it made sense, the effect he had on you, but you supposed a lot of things hadn’t made sense in your life since Jungkook’s first appearance.

“It’s just a kiss, cabbage,” he mumbled, shrugging. 

It was. It was just a kiss, to your friends, to him. It was nothing, a small price you had to pay to entertain your friends. It was fun and simple. It was just unfortunate that it was so much more to you. 

You held your breath when Jungkook placed a hand on your cheek, thumb brushing over your cheekbone, gentle and soothing. He was doing everything right, and yet, you could have thrown up right then and there. Jimin gasped and squeaked as Jungkook inched closer to you, Jisoo grasping onto his arm because oh my God, they were going to kiss! All while you were desperately, almost frantically, fisting Jungkook’s shirt, as if you would float away otherwise and it was the only thing keeping you on the ground.

And Jungkook kissed you all too delicately.

To the point, you could have believed him. That you meant something to him, that he might just be in love with you. It was horrible, to be kissed like that. You weren’t sure if this was how it felt like, to be in love and to be loved. You hoped it wasn’t.

You pulled him closer to you, deepened the kiss, allowed him in. For just a while, you told yourself. Just until you found the strength in you to resist him, until you deemed your own well-being more important than these fleeting highs with Jungkook.

“Alright, dinner’s- oh.” 

Chaeyoung stopped right before she could bump into you, and you quickly pulled away. But Jungkook kept holding you, not letting go of you. Chaeyoung placed her hands on her hips and shot Jimin and Jisoo a long look.

“Ah, who of you idiots did this?” 

“Why do you assume it was-”

“So it was you,” Chaeyoung said, interrupting Jimin and shaking her head. “Take it off. Dinner’s ready.”

Jisoo slapped his shoulder, laughing, clearly enjoying seeing him getting reprimanded by Chaeyoung. Jimin rolled his eyes, mumbling something about how Chaeyoung was no fun but he followed her orders, getting up and reaching for the bundle above your heads. You backed away-actually you jumped. It made Jimin pause and narrow his eyes, his mouth lifting into a smile when he saw the opportunity.

“Oh, what if I hold it over you-”

“No, don’t even!” you hissed, pushing Jimin away from you and seeking refuge behind Chaeyoung. 

“Oh, it’s just one more kiss, Y/N!” Jimin taunted, following you. You shrieked, moving further from him, irritated by the constant laughter spilling from his throat. He was enjoying this too much. Too much!

“Fuck off!”

“Don’t be like-”

“I’m serious, stop!”

“It’s fun-”

“Okay, no, enough,” Jungkook said, stepping in and swiftly taking the mistletoe from Jimin. He slapped him with it lightly, eliciting a gasp from Jimin. “No more chasing my girlfriend with mistletoe, okay? Or you can do your physics assignments on your own.” 

Rubbing his cheek, almost convinced he was allergic to mistletoe now, Jimin gasped as if Jungkook had just declared an end to their friendship. “Kook! How could you say that?”

“Stop chasing my girlfriend then.”

“Oh my God, fine, I won’t,” Jimin groaned, pouting. “You’re so lame.”

When he reached for the mistletoe, Jungkook hesitated, looking over to you and even though you preferred him not to hold it in his hands again, you knew Jimin would get even more offended if Jungkook withheld the bundle from him. So you gave him a nod. 

“Okay, alright, dinner’s getting cold,” Chaeyoung said, clapping her hands together when Jimin was back in possession of his mistletoe. “So how about we take this party into the kitchen, yeah?”

Like you had said he would, Jungkook got an earful from Chaeyoung when she noticed the expensive bottle of wine suddenly appear on the dinner table because how dare you bring something when I clearly said not to? And on top of that such an expensive bottle too. Do you shit money? Somebody needs to teach you how to manage your finances. Rather than come to his help, you left Jungkook to fend for himself which earned you puppy eyes from him, but hadn’t you told him better? Surprisingly however he managed to convince her to open the bottle anyway. You were sure she’d get him to return it, or at least take it home again. Jungkook could be very compelling. But you knew that already. 

“If the teaching thing doesn’t work out—” Namjoon had his mouth stuffed as he spoke, and you caught Yoongi cringing next to him. “—I think you should become a cook, Chae.”

She smiled sheepishly, waving him off. “Oh, please. My mom’s cooking is so much better.”

“I don’t know if I believe you,” he laughed. “This is seriously so good.”

Hoseok shoved a big bite into his mouth, a drop of sauce splashing onto the table. Chaeyoung smiled and wiped it off for him. He thanked her.

“It’s the best food on Earth. I’d die for it,” Jimin sighed, a little too loud and dramatic, his mouth full with food, giving you all a glimpse into what his stomach must look like. His cheeks were tinted a slight pink, the red wine slowly flushing him through. “Like that one Gordon Ramsey meme? Where you know—” He sat up, changing his voice in a failed attempt to mimic the British celebrity chef. “—he’s like ‘Finally some good fucking food.’ or whatever. That’s how I always feel when I eat Chae.”

For a second, there was silence. Jungkook and you looked at each other with big eyes, a hint of a smile on your lips because it was obvious that Jimin hadn’t realised what he had said, blabbering on and on without a second thought.

“Maybe you should calm it on the alcohol,” Seokjin mumbled, pushing Jimin’s glass away from him. But it had the opposite effect, making him reach for it instead and down the entire contents of his glass in one quick go.

“Never!”

“You mean… her food. When you eat her food, you could cry, right?” Taehyung clarified, and Jimin looked at him with big eyes.

“Oh, yes of course! What else would I mean?” he laughed, loud and boisterous. “Chae’s all yours, Seok. Don’t worry. I’m not your competition.” 

Chaeyoung almost choked on the wine, and Hoseok turned a few shades redder. 

“Someone get this idiot some water,” Yoongi snorted, and Namjoon already got up.

You turned your gaze to Jisoo when she leaned into you, taking the chaos as a chance to just talk to you, her hand grabbing yours.

“How’s the scarf going by the way? Are your loops now clean?” she whispered, careful to keep her voice low. You glanced towards Jungkook, but he was busy trying to convince Jimin to drink a few sips from the water at least. And though he hadn’t heard a word, you glared at Jisoo, shaking your head.

“Not with him around,” you hissed, and she rolled her eyes.

“Oh, look at him. He’s not paying us attention. I wanna know. I’m invested now, especially because you always called me a grandma for knitting. How’s it going?” she asked, and you knew it was best to just quickly answer her because she wasn’t dropping this.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it now. It’s almost done-”

“What are you guys whispering about?” Jennie asked, leaning in, eyes wandering between Jisoo and you.

“Y/N’s knitting a scarf for her boyfriend for Christmas.”

“Ji!” 

Your features couldn’t decide whether or not to contort in embarrassment or fear Jungkook had overheard this time. It’d ruin your surprise. You were in luck though because he wasn’t paying your conversation any mind.

“Oh, that’s cute!” Jennie squealed. “I only thought Ji knits. I didn’t know you knit too, Y/N.”

“I-”

“She doesn’t. She just sews a little,” Jisoo said, beating you to it. She leaned towards Jennie as if she was telling her a secret and didn’t want you to hear, but she deliberately kept eye contact with you and didn’t even lower her voice, her lips curling up. “She learned how to knit for her stupid little boyfriend. She asked me so many questions and bought so much yarn too. It was so annoying-”

You kicked Jisoo in the shin, shutting her up. She sharply sucked in her breath, hands flying to her leg, mouth agape in a silent screech.

“You’re talking too much,” you hissed, not remorseful at all even as she rubbed her shin. Jennie laughed. 

“That’s really cute of you though, Y/N,” she said, smiling at you. “I like the idea. He’s gonna love it.”

“It’s just a scarf,” Jisoo mumbled, rolling her eyes, words dipping into an astonishing amount of immaturity. “It’s not that cute. I could knit you a better scarf-”

“Stop bragging. It’s different. You’ve always knit. Y/N made an effort to learn how to for Kook.”

“I’d learn how to do something new for you.”

“So do.”

“What? Like I won’t?”

You took that as your cue to exit the conversation, glancing over to Jungkook instead. He hadn’t noticed your conversation at all. In fact, he was stuffing his mouth full. Some extra sauce decorated the corner of his mouth in his haste. Without missing a beat, you wiped it off with your thumb before cleaning it on his napkin. He turned to you, eyes as big as a reindeer caught in headlights. It hit you only then as he stared at you and you stared at him, what you had done. How intimate the nature of the gesture had been. You might as well have ripped out your heart and told him to keep it. It would have been the same.

“Did… you just-”

“Oh, the wine is actually so good!” Jisoo sighed, putting down her glass, and right now you were very glad she sat next to you. “I think that’s the best wine I’ve ever had.”

Jungkook’s eyes darted between her and you. He was thinking, contemplating if he’d engage with Jisoo in a conversation, or tease you until you were just about ready to be swallowed by a hole. Maybe it was the way you wouldn’t even look in his direction and kept your gaze trained on Jisoo, or maybe because he was planning on bringing it up another time, but in the end, he decided to spare you.

“I’m happy to hear you like it,” he grinned before jabbing you in the side. You flinched, grabbing his hand before he could do it again. “See, and you said they wouldn’t taste the difference.”

“She doesn’t,” you grumbled, brows creased together.

“She’s just saying that because she knows how expensive it is,” Taehyung said, and for once you agreed. Jisoo rolled her eyes at him, mumbling something about not wanting to argue with an idiot and picking a piece of lint off of Jennie’s shoulder instead.

Jungkook shrugged. “Whatever. She likes it, so worth every penny.”

You were about to let go of his hand, feeling any kind of contact was a step too much, a step into a very wrong and dangerous direction. But Junkook interlaced his fingers with yours, holding it firm, thumb brushing over the back of your hand. For a second, you contemplated pulling away because this was too much, too close. You didn’t, not finding the strength in you to do it. 

“Actually, I haven’t learned half of my mom’s cooking. She always makes this amazing pork belly stew for every Christmas. If you love this, you’ll love that,” Chaeyoung said, pulling you into their conversation that seemed to have circled back to her cooking.

“Are you gonna go back home for Christmas? Because I’ll go with you if so. That stew sounds amazing,” Yoongi said.

“Oh my God, if you are, please take me with you too because this is so good,” Jennie sighed dreamily, making Chaeyoung laugh. 

“Excuse me, what about our Christmas plans?” Jisoo gasped with faux upset, and immediately Hoseok, Chaeyoung, Jimin and you exchanged glances. 

Moving fast, Hoseok mouthed and you nodded. You had no idea. At the same time, it seemed to work for them.

“Oh, can’t we just drop by for dinner really quickly for some food?” Jennie tried, pursing her lips into a pout, but Jisoo just clicked her tongue and shook her head.

“Good food is all it takes, huh?”

Jennie laughed.

“Is everyone going home for Christmas?” Namjoon asked, wiping his mouth before grabbing his glass of wine, holding it up to his lips, speaking into it. “I know Kook is for sure.”

Jungkook nodded. “Got me there.”

And even without looking at him, you knew he was smiling and more than excited to go back home. He squeezed your hand, and you could tell he did so unconsciously. You squeezed back, happy for him that he was happy.

“Oh, right, I’ve been meaning to ask!” Jimin gasped, turning rather dramatically towards you. You blinked, unsure of what was about to spill from his lips.

“Is it true that you’re going back home with Kook, Y/N?” 

What?

Everyone turned to you, Chaeyoung raising her brow at you because were you? You stared back at her, mouth opened and closing because no, right? You weren’t, or were you? Your eyes lifted to Jungkook, and he had that same look on his face. Neither of you knew what to say or do. This wasn’t something you had discussed. And why would you have? It’d be ridiculous to assume that you’d be going back home with Jungkook to meet his parents for Christmas.

“Uh-?”

“I’m just asking because Kook’s parents have been asking me if I knew if he’s actually gonna bring you,” Jimin continued, shrugging. And maybe you would have focused on how much you wanted to strangle him right now and needed him to shut up if your mind wasn’t reeling from the fact that Jungkook seemed to have not only told his parents about your existence but also that you would be spending Christmas with them.

What?

“Okay, yeah, no, wait,” Jungkook interjected, a clear panic in his voice, turning fully to you. “I can explain.”

You blankly stared at him, unable to even make a single sound. He dug a hand through his hair, looking even more panicked the longer you said nothing.

“So, uh, my brother saw my posts and stories online and might have told my parents… that I’m dating you. And so they’ve been really curious and asking about you a lot, and it was a little annoying, so I just told them that I might bring you around for Christmas to shut them up. But—” He held out his hand as if to get ahead of you saying anything. “—I didn’t promise them anything. I just said it to get them off my back, you know?”

You continued staring at him, unsure of how to react or what to say because well, you hadn’t thought that either of your parents were ever going to get involved in any shape or form. You hadn’t even played with the idea of telling your parents. And why would you? All of this was fake! A ruse, so Jungkook could win his stupid bet!

“It wasn’t planned, or anything, okay? I wasn’t going to tell them about you-”

“You weren’t?” Jimin blurted out, brows pinching together. He seemed to have lost all ability to read the room, just a glass or two of wine enough to dull his brain. “Ow-!”

He glared at Taehyung, rubbing his arm. It still wasn’t enough to shut him up however. 

“What was that for? I’m just saying I’m a little surprised that Jungkook, the definition of a mama’s and papa’s boy, was planning on keeping his girlfriend a secret when he hasn’t shut up about Y/N for months-”

“No, wait it’s not like that,” Jungkook quickly scrambled, gesturing wildly. “It’s just that my parents, you know, can get a little much. And, I don’t know-”

His sentence didn’t find an end, and Jimin seemed to just take that as a sign to go on, 

“Didn’t Narae meet-”

“Okay, how about you finish your food, huh?” Taehyung interrupted, taking Jimin’s fork and picking up a big piece of meat before shoving it into his mouth. Namjoon and Seokjin exchanged glances, cringing. Yoongi lowered his head, and Jennie slid down on her seat. Chaeyoung looked at you with big empathetic eyes and Jisoo even gave your hand a squeeze. 

If there was anything genuine between you, this would have been devastating. Luckily, there wasn’t. So it couldn’t hurt. And yet, your heart felt like it was bleeding in your chest, a dagger shoved in, a dagger with Jungkook’s name. He was staring holes into you, but you couldn’t look at him, settling on the edge of the table instead. You weren’t hurt. You weren’t hurt that Narae with her perfect smile and manicured nails and beautiful hair and glossy lips got to meet his parents and you didn’t. It didn’t bother you at all! That was what you told yourself at least. Because you couldn’t possibly be hurt. Not when your relationship was transactional and just an act. And yet, to your misery, you were hurt, deeply. You hated it, how you weren’t all that unbothered as you wanted and more importantly, should be. 

You were pulled out of your thoughts though when you saw the glare Hoseok was looking at Jungkook with. It dawned on you how awful all of it had to sound to your friends then. Narae, who never even was Jungkook’s official girlfriend, got to meet his parents, but you, who was officially (at least to them) his girlfriend, he not only didn’t want to introduce to them but also planned on keeping a secret?

“Oh my God, you guys!” you laughed, loud and light, like it was all so very dumb and stupid. With a big swoop, you grabbed Jungkook’s hand on the table, hoping no one saw the shake in your fingers. Everyone looked at you.

“You’re misunderstanding. We had agreed from the beginning that we should take it a little slower, and not tell everyone immediately. I knew he wasn’t going to tell his parents. I told him not to.” You put on your most convincing smile, swallowing the knot in your throat, hoping desperately it was enough. Everyone was looking at you, and you looked right back at them, at everyone except for Jungkook. Your vision almost blurred, hazy at the edges, feeling your composure threaten to slip.

“It’s nothing.”

There was a slight shake in your voice, the tiniest of a waver. You couldn’t tell if your friends noticed, their faces unreadable to you. A moment of silence stretched across the room, the food long forgotten about. In the end, it was slightly tipsy Jimin, the one who started it all, to break the awkwardness.

“Okay, well, do I text them… yes or-?”

You wondered if Jimin was this stupid, or trying to put you through hell on purpose. His question made Taehyung next to him sigh and shake his head, lips pressed together as he stared daggers into the older one.

“What?” Jimin whispered, offended. Maybe you should have taken the wine from him sooner. 

You looked at Jungkook finally. He didn’t seem to have an answer at all, his eyes big and wide like a child’s. There was something in them that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. It almost seemed like he wanted you to agree, say yes, of course, you’d meet his parents. You had to be imagining it. As quickly as it had come, you squashed the thought.

It was up to you. The decision was in your hands. Everyone was waiting for your answer. Jungkook would have to go with whatever you were saying, whether or not he liked it. 

A lot of it was probably spite, spite that Narae met them already and you hadn’t. And how would it look if you weren’t there when Jungkook inevitably made a post about being back home with his family and you weren’t there in the pictures? What would Narae think? You could already see a backhanded Instagram story in front of your eyes, how there was trouble in paradise. It was something you wouldn’t put past her at all, seeing as she had done so before, posting just an hour after Jungkook celebrated your one month anniversary about how cringe some couples could be. Anyone doubting your relationship might just lead to Taehyung doubting your relationship and then to Jungkook losing his bet and all of this would have been for nothing. That couldn’t happen, right? You had to do something against it!

“They probably won’t stop bothering you until you tell them yes, right?” 

You tried your hardest to sound casual, nonchalant, chill as some might say. This was no big deal, you told yourself.

It wasn’t what Jungkook had expected. He thought you’d give some roundabout answer that in the end summarised that you needed to keep things slow and easy. But you agreed. You were going to meet his parents. He searched for something in your features, anything to tell him how you genuinely felt about it. He was trying to read you, but it was like he had the wrong dictionary. 

“If that’s alright with you-” Maybe it was to hit the nail on the head, finish it off, you couldn’t say. But the urge was strong right then, just once to say it. “—babe?”

You turned to him and looked at him almost confidently. It was both your face and the pet name, but Jungkook couldn’t help but laugh. Of course, now you were going to call him babe. A grin spread across his lips.

“Okay, yeah.” He held your hand firmer and tighter. “I’d be more than happy for you to meet my parents. They’d be thrilled.”

He was a great liar. It sounded oh so very genuine.

You squeezed his hand and turned to Jimin. “I guess you can text them I’m going.”

“I think that was it,” Jungkook said, handing you the last few dirty plates. 

“Alright,” you hummed, moving around some of the dishes to make some more space in the dishwasher. 

“Oh,” Chaeyoung exclaimed in surprise upon seeing Jungkook standing there with you, “you can head out first. I’ll help Y/N.” 

She wore a smile on her lips, but you knew better. 

“It’s fine. I’ll just help-”

“No, really, get out,” Chaeyoung interrupted, slipping just the slightest bit and you gave Jungkook a look, almost reaching out for his hand and giving it a squeeze. She was curt, too curt. It surprised him, clearly. “I’m the host. I’ll clean up. Join the others in the living room.”

You offered him a nod, and with that Jungkook slipped out, receiving a more genuine smile and a quiet thank you from Chaeyoung on the way out because she knew he was more than confused by her just now. Before he even had the chance to turn to ask whether or not he should close the door, she did herself. You knew to prepare yourself, putting the stack of dishes aside. She folded her arms in front of her stomach.

This was an interrogation.

In another world (read: in a detective TV show), there’d be a metal table between you and you’d be handcuffed to it. A clock would decorate the blank walls, ticking away in the background, and the air would be chilly and humid, stifling almost. Chaeyoung would dramatically slide pictures across to you, and they would be incriminating ones, blurry but clearly depicting you in the middle of whatever crime you were accused of. She would point at them and tell you how you had one chance to tell her the truth.

“How are you?”

Just the question almost made you laugh. It was heartwarming. You knew exactly what she was trying to get out of you—if it hurt you at all that Narae had met Jungkook’s parents and he had seemingly wanted to keep you a secret. You dried your hands on the kitchen towel.

“I’m fine, thanks. How are you-”

“Are you lying?”

She took this very seriously, her face not even holding a hint of a smile. Again, in another world she’d stare you down, gaze cold and unwavering, and ask if you wanted to try again.

“Do I look like I am lying?”

You were lying about all of it, about most things concerning Jungkook and you these days. But you couldn’t say that. You couldn’t admit that the entire conversation during dinner hurt you to the degree it did, to a degree you would rather not admit, that it hurt at all to begin with. Because being hurt implied you had some sort of right to be, implied Jungkook owed you… something. And that was just not true.

Chaeyoung paused, sizing you up. It was hard to figure out what conclusion she came to, her eyes narrowed and sharp. She opened her mouth, but right then, someone announced themselves with a knock on the door. Without waiting, they poked their head in, and it could realistically only be one person. 

“What did she say?” Jisoo asked.

Were you air today?

“Says she’s fine,” Chaeyoung said, wrinkling her nose.

“You don’t believe her?” Jisoo slipped inside and slowly closed the door, making sure beforehand though that no one was in earshot. Chaeyoung scrutinised you for another moment before coming to her conclusion with a long sigh.

“No, I do.” She paused before looking at you. “You know I’d- we’d rip him into pieces for you, right?”

You had no doubt for a second they would. Actually, all of your friends would, but Chaeyoung and Jisoo would be the first ones to throw a punch.

“I do, and I love you guys for it,” you say, smiling genuinely because God, you did love your friends so much. “But you don’t have to because I’m fine. And like I said, we had talked about it. You know how I am. Parents aren’t my thing.”

“Well, for that you just agreed to go meet them,” Jisoo mumbled, scrunching her nose, and you swallowed. Maybe it was hearing it from someone else, or maybe it was because you were no longer sitting around the dinner table with everyone expectedly staring at you and awaiting for an explanation, but it finally hit you. What exactly you had agreed to. Once your mind wasn’t clouded with the thought of Narae, you realised that oh my God, you were meeting Jungkook’s parents.

It was funny how quickly things could change. How just a few minutes ago, you didn’t worry about it at all, only thinking of Narae and her stupid perfect grin and the fact she had met them, and now you were worried because what would they say about you? Would they like you? What if they were like Jaehwa’s parents and-

“Now, don’t make that face,” Chaeyoung interrupted, putting a hand on your shoulder, noticing your spiral. “They’re gonna like you.”

“Yeah, you don’t have anything to worry about at all, Y/N,” Jisoo reassured. “If anything, they should be on their best behaviour. Because if not…”

And like the amazing friend she was, Jisoo started punching the air, showing you her swift moves that she would put on Jungkook’s parents. 

“Can’t you see? They say one wrong thing, and it’d be over for them. Ji would do these weird punches and knock them right out,” Chaeyoung said. “It’s gonna be fine. Has to.”

“Also, with the way Jungkook acts with you, let’s be honest he’s head over heels for you,” Jisoo argued, putting an arm around you. “I can see him standing up for you.”

“Yeah, I hate to give a man any credit, but he would.”

“And again, if he doesn’t…” Jisoo didn’t finish her sentence, instead showing you her oh so brilliant and not wobbly but actually super fatal kick.

They both turned to you, and you slowly nodded. Maybe they were right. You didn’t necessarily think Jungkook would stand up for you, not because you didn’t believe he would but because you didn’t even let yourself go there. If you did, if you assumed he would do something like that for you, you’d be having expectations for him and you had no right to. But you knew that Chaeyoung and Jisoo would be there for you, and it was a comforting thought. That was enough. Your friends were enough. And maybe, you just liked to believe them too—that it would all somehow turn out just fine.

“Yeah, I guess,” you mumbled.

“It’s gonna be fine!” Chaeyoung repeated, squeezing your shoulder.

Before you could dwell on it any further, a knock on the kitchen door interrupted you. 

“Yeah?” Jisoo said, and a moment later, Hoseok stuck his head in, offering an apologetic smile because he obviously knew what was going on in here.

“Sorry to interrupt, but Jimin asked for you, Chae,” he said, sounding unsure. He clearly hadn’t gotten a reason as to why he was supposed to call for Chaeyoung. She frowned and seemed less than willing to go, but you saw this as a great opportunity to put an end to this conversation and move on. Ignoring the fact you were going to meet Jungkook’s parents wasn’t going to solve the issue, but right now your brain felt mushy and drained. Too much of today’s focus had been on you, you couldn’t do it any longer.

“Let’s just all go,” you said. “We’ve been here for too long anyway.”

Jisoo agreed, mumbling something about how she couldn’t leave Jennie alone with all of the guys outside any longer, not in good conscience at least. She helped you put the last few plates into the dishwasher, and hooked her arm with yours as you made your way back into the living room, her head resting on your shoulder.

“Did he say what he wanted?” Chaeyoung asked Hoseok, the two walking behind you. 

“Probably something stupid.”

And indeed it was.

Because the moment Jisoo and you had made it past the doorstep, Jimin jumped up and pointed at Chaeyoung and Hoseok. The two froze, all eyes on them, and when you turned to look, you found them in the same fate as Jungkook and you had been in earlier.

“Oh, Jimin,” you chuckled, shaking your head. He beamed with pride, chest out and a grin bigger than his entire face. 

“We aren’t-” Chaeyoung couldn’t even finish her sentence, sputtering for words. “No! This is… stupid!”

“You have to. Otherwise, it’s bad luck,” Jungkook grinned. “That’s what you said, right, Seok?”

Hoseok looked positively ready to strangle him, but you couldn’t have been prouder of him right now. Even though Jimin was the one to orchestrate this, it felt like sweet revenge to get back at Hoseok. And really, you were helping him and Chaeyoung. Maybe today was the day finally something would happen.

“Seok and I aren’t- we aren’t-”

“It’s just a kiss!” Seokjin said, and you nodded. Because as much as you felt for them, having been in their position, you knew Chaeyoung wouldn’t have come to your rescue. She might have disapproved, but she would have definitely enjoyed the show and let it go on until you kissed.

“Just do a quick peck,” Taehyung suggested, pressing a kiss to Yoongi’s cheek to demonstrate. The older one wiped his cheek and shook his head, but there was clear amusement tugging on the corners of his mouth too. You laughed at the absurdity of it all, especially when you caught the embarrassed looks on Chaeyoung’s and Hoseok’s faces.

“Also if you hadn’t walked in together like I had predicted you obviously would, you wouldn’t be in this situation,” Jimin said, and Hoseok let out a noise that could only be described as a weak and mangled attempt at faux upset. “You guys are so clearly in love with each other anyway, just kiss!”

“Oh my God,” Chaeyoung let out a scoff, but it sounded pitchy and panicked, “seriously? H-how many times do we have to tell you guys that we are just really good friends? Just like Jimin and Y/N!”

“Don’t be ridiculous here, Chae,” you laughed. “Jimin and I are just friends, but you two? Oh, please.”

“There was an attempt, huh?”

Chaeyoung glared at Jisoo, her cheeks gaining a deeper shade of red with every passing second. In a last ditch attempt, she turned to Hoseok, hoping for some backup from him.

“Tell them-”

This time when her sentence got lodged in her throat, it was for a very different reason. Because Hoseok was looking at her like he was ready to risk it all in front of everybody. Like he was ready to just say it, do something. And Chaeyoung knew, freezing to a statue.

Jisoo and you looked at each other, gasping. Her nails dug into your arm and you held onto her just as strongly. Your breath hitched in your throat as Hoseok placed a hand on Chaeyoung’s cheek, pausing and hesitating for a moment, as if he waited for her to reject him before ultimately kissing her. And instantly, she pulled him closer.

It was like a scene out of every 2000s romantic comedy, the finale of the third act, what you had all been waiting up to. It was a scene to swoon and die for. 

A sense of joy you had rarely felt overtook you, a rush. You began shaking Jisoo, mouth split into a grin. As much as you had wanted and actually still wanted to strangle Jimin tonight for bringing that stupid mistletoe, you were just about ready to kiss him (platonically and only figuratively of course).

“See!” Jimin laughed, pointing at Hoseok and Chaeyoung, both of them flushed red to the tips of their ears. But they were smiling too. This had been good.

“I can’t believe that this is how you guys get together,” Jisoo laughed, Chaeyoung and Hoseok looking at each other, his arm wrapped around her middle. They laughed, shrugging.

Jimin proudly pointed at himself, beaming brighter than a Christmas tree. “All my doing.”

“Shut up,” Yoongi laughed, trying and failing to kick him in the knee. And though his attempt wasn’t successful, it earned him a thank you! from Chaeyoung. Jimin looked over to Namjoon for some kind of help, but he simply shrugged. He scoffed when he saw Seokjin squeeze Yoongi’s shoulder, mumbling something about how he was just jealous.

“I mean… neither did I,” Hoseok chuckled, seeming still completely out of it, unbelieving.

“Thought about it a lot, huh?” Taehyung asked, grinning, and for a moment, you could see Hoseok struggling to answer, decide whether or not he wanted to admit the blatant truth, confess that he’d been imagining this more times than he should have. In the end, he cared less about saving face and looking cool, and much more about who he had his arm wrapped around, finally.

“Yeah, always.”

And just like that, Chaeyoung pulled him down for another kiss. The sight warmed Jisoo’s heart because she turned to Jennie, reaching out for her. With a slight tug, she was at Jennie’s side. You laughed, shaking your head, just to catch Jungkook looking at you. For a moment, you didn’t quite know what to do even though you weren’t the one caught staring. The same couldn’t be said about Jungkook. He didn’t seem to care at all, eyes not holding an ounce of uncertainty. It was obvious that he was much more confident and comfortable with being seen by you. Something you still weren’t at this point, not entirely at least, not right in this very moment, or… actually ever.

Jungkook didn’t say anything as he stretched his hand out. You hesitated, if just for a second. Because maybe you shouldn’t. Not when your heart was beating the way it was. And yet, you did take it, did let him pull you close and hold you and press his lips to the top of your head.

“You don’t have to meet them if you don’t want to.”

He whispered it, spoke in a soft and warm voice. His words floated to your ears, and you knew. You didn’t have to do anything ever actually. Not for him at least. He expected nothing from you. You closed your eyes, and listened to his heartbeat in his chest. Strong and firm. It was the opposite of yours. Yours was a mess, thumping and skipping beats. 

“I will.”

Jungkook smiled as bright as the sun, pressing another kiss to your head. You could feel the excitement rushing through his fingertips, his arm tightening around you. You didn’t know the reason for it, his excitement. It didn’t make sense why he would be, you weren’t his girlfriend after all. You refused to think about it, preferring the bliss of ignorance.

God, you loved him so much. You did. You loved Jungkook to an indescribable amount. And God, was it time to stop all of this.

The video had been playing for less than twenty seconds when the call came in, your phone lighting up beside you. You paused your laptop, his name taking up your entire phone screen. And though Jungkook and you had begun calling each other more frequently now, spending at least once a week on the phone together, you were confused when you glanced at the time. But you accepted the call, sliding your thumb over the glass. Some ruffling met your ears before finally, he came through.

“Hi.”

For some reason, there was a smile on your lips.

“What do you want?” you laughed, glancing at the time in the upper left corner of your phone. 01:24. “It’s late. Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“Could say the same about you,” Jungkook argued, and you rolled your eyes, scoffing slightly, already sensing where this was going. You leaned back into your couch, looking at the ceiling with renewed interest.

“I’m not tired.”

“Neither am I.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Then neither do I.”

“Well, you had a full day of classes today, so you must be at least a little tired,” you shot back, and a beat of silence passed. For a moment, it seemed like you came out victorious. 

“You know my schedule?”

The question hung in front of you, and you were glad that this was just a call. Because you could see it, his stupid face. The proud smile on his lips, the grin that adorned it. He would inch closer to you, push you to answer, and you would cave and crumble terribly. 

“... no.”

And Jungkook began laughing almost immediately, his voice booming through your phone. You cringed, biting your tongue. 

“I’m going to hang up.”

“No, no, no, don’t,” he said, still laughing however. “I’m sorry.”

His apology didn’t sound an ounce sincere, but you were never going to actually hang up. A comfortable silence passed, and you could have stayed on the phone forever.

“Oh, have you watched the newest video I sent you yet?”

“You mean the two hour long video essay about the phenomenal music scoring of Avatar?” you hummed, glancing over to your laptop to see the screen dark already. “Yeah, I was about to watch it when you called.”

Somehow, you could hear his smile forming on his lips. “You should watch it.”

“Yeah, I will,” you said, sighing and rolling your eyes.

There was silence for another few seconds. 

“What are you doing?” Jungkook asked, and you could tell he was genuinely curious. You blinked, having completely forgotten what you had been up to until he called. You looked at the ball of yarn sitting in your lap, your attempt at a scarf hanging between the two knitting needles. But you couldn’t tell him, it would ruin the surprise. 

And so, you returned the question instead. “What are you doing?”

“I asked you first.”

“I asked you second.”

Jungkook sighed. “You’re very fun to talk to sometimes, you know?”

You laughed, not missing the irony in his voice. “Thanks. You are too.”

“Just tell me,” he said, and you frowned at his poor attempt to get you to talk. 

“Why don’t you tell me first?”

He let out a small scoff, and you could picture his face perfectly. The way his tongue would be digging into his cheek and his eyes rolling back because God, you were frustrating sometimes! But there would be an undeniable smile on his lips. There always was. 

“Alright,” Jungkook said, and you raised your brows. “I’m outside.”

You frowned. “Where are you going? At this hour?”

“Why don’t you guess?” 

“Just tell me.”

He paused, hesitated. Somehow, you could hear his grin turn bigger.

“How about you look outside and see for yourself instead?”

Your heart sank in your chest, something strange taking hold of you. You moved without a thought, almost knocking over one of your pothos sitting on your window sill when you pulled the curtain aside. The glass was cool to touch, but you pressed your entire hand against it, just to feel something steady. Because right now, you felt the opposite of it, heart jumping to your throat and beating there like it was bound to fall out. Because there was no way that he was here right now! This wasn’t a cheesy romcom! But you also knew that he wouldn’t lie to you.

And he didn’t. 

There he was, standing on the sidewalk, in front of your building, phone pressed to his ear, head in his neck, mouth in a grin and waving up to you. 

You opened and closed your mouth several times, scoffing in the end and shaking your head.

“You’re so… stupid, Jeon.”

Jungkook laughed, “Well, that’s been established before.”

“You’re such a ridiculous stupid little man, Jeon!” you went on, pressing a hand to your forehead and squeezing your eyes closed for a moment. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, is it a crime now to drop by your girlfriend’s home when you miss her?”

The words rolled off his tongue with a certain confidence and ease. Two things you rarely ever had, even less around Jungkook. It always seemed so very fragile and dangerous, to be so open and vulnerable. You couldn’t snap back, tell him how ridiculous he was because you had just seen each other two days ago at the Christmas party. Hell, you had been spending almost every day with each other—either on the phone or in person driving to Seo’s bakery to pick up your needed batch of cookies or watching Avatar until you both could recite every line. And yet here he was, telling you that he missed you, so much so that he needed to see you in the middle of the night, at 1:42.

Right then, it became blatantly obvious to you—that Jungkook and you had crudely blown the lines you had established beforehand, agreed to contractually, into absolute smithereens, that you two had made new ones, dangerous ones, ones that resembled an actual relationship, and that, even worse, you had not only never talked about it but gotten used to the new rules, comfortable.

And even with that realisation lingering in your mind with big glaring bright red flags hissed high above and every possible alarm blaring in the air, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell Jungkook that this was wrong, that he should go home. You should, it would spare your sanity. But your heart had only grown bigger and fonder of him. And it was horrible because you knew even more time with him, alone, in your own four walls, was the worst thing you could do. There would be nowhere for you to go, run off to. But you couldn’t send him home. Because really, you didn’t want to. Because it did excite you. That he was here. That he had gotten up, changed, and made his way to you. That the cold hadn’t even been enough to stop him.

“Now, open up. It’s freezing. My hands and feet are already blue,” he told you, adding a dramatic shiver to his words.

You paused, frowned, searched and didn’t see it anywhere. It clicked with you. You hadn’t heard the engine or turn signal during the entirety of your call. 

“Did you- did you walk here? Why didn’t you take your car?”

“Felt like it.”

“You’re so stupid, oh my God,” you groaned, rolling your eyes as you repeatedly pressed the buzzer to open the front door for him. “Never ever do that again. It’s freezing outside!”

Jungkook responded with a laugh. It echoed on the walls of your empty lobby, reverberating through the phone. “Alright, I won’t. I promise.”

“Also, shouldn’t you be writing that stupid paper about Newton or Einstein or whatever?”

“It’s not about either of them, but I still have a bit of time until the deadline,” he explained, and you heard him walk up the stairs. “Thanks for remembering though.”

You pressed your lips together. “What if I was sleeping?”

“But you aren’t.” He sounded so incredibly smug and proud. You could have punched him. “Also, I know you, cabbage. You’d rather die than go to bed at a reasonable time.”

And somehow, that admission embarrassed you. It did. Terribly. Because he did, he did know you oh so well. 

You left the front door ajar for him, waiting there with your hands folded in front of you, fingers picking on each other, as you listened to his steps grow closer and louder. His hand was the first thing you saw, reaching and touching the doorknob, and then it was suddenly just all of him. In front of you. He smiled at your sight, and you knew you looked more embarrassed and unsure than ever before. You were relieved you still hadn’t changed the lightbulb that had burned through all those months ago, allowing the dark to obscure you from him, a soft shadow across your face. 

Jungkook shrugged off his coat, hanging it on the hook behind the front door and revealing his maroon knit sweater and black pants to you. When he looked at you again, his gaze softened.

“Hi, cabbage.” His cheeks and nose were brutally red from the wind, but he seemed as happy as ever. “I made you something.”

You noticed the metal lunchbox in his hands only when he pushed it towards you, and when you took it, it was still warm. Like whatever he had prepared, he had packed up the minute it was done and came straight to you. 

“What did you make?” you asked, and you knew he wouldn’t tell you, waiting for you to open the lunchbox instead and discover for yourself. You peeled open the lid just a little, revealing a small corner when the smell hit you. Your eyes shot to Jungkook, and he looked both sheepish and proud. 

“You didn’t.”

A gasp, your features melting. He wrinkled his nose, turned his head to the side.

“I was gonna go get some from Seo’s Bakery, but they- did you know they’re on Christmas break?”

You nodded, eyes unable to take off of him, blabbering, “Yeah, of course. They always are. Every Christmas. Have always been.”

Jungkook made a gesture towards you, shrugging. “Well, so I thought- I don’t know. I’d make you some instead. You gotta fuel your addiction somehow, right?”

There was no denying how many sweet gestures Jungkook had made ever since you’d been doing this (whatever one might classify this as). The amount of flowers and cookies he’d showered you with. The amount of smiles and laughs he’d pulled from you. The amount of love he’d shown you, even if it wasn’t real. 

You put the lunchbox aside, needing to return the gesture at least once. Leaning over your couch, you grabbed the half-finished scarf you’d made for him. You wanted to show him, reciprocate some of the affection and love. But in your haste, you forgot the ball of yarn the scarf was connected to.

“Oh, fuck.”

Like a roll of paper, it unfurled, and though it would be annoying to roll it all up again, you shoved the scarf into Jungkook’s face, uncaring.

“It’s not finished- or particularly well done. But- I made that… for you,” you hesitated, a lump lodged in your throat. “I also just chose a random colour- if you don’t like red, I could definitely change it, you know. It’s not even done-”

He took it from your hands, silencing you. Your brows knit together as you watched him admire the intricate and detailed rows of red yarn. And then, he wrapped it around his neck even though the scarf was still attached to the ball of yarn and the knitting needles were poking into his neck. 

“Wait, no,” you laughed, already reaching to take it off. “You don’t have to wear it or anything- Like I said, it’s not even done. I still have to-”

Jungkook took hold of your hands. Your eyes met his. He smiled at you. 

“You’re so cute, cabbage,” he told you, his gaze so full and soft. And you melted right then and there, your face lit up like a fire. Melted even more so when Jungkook kissed you and pressed his forehead against yours. “I love it, cabbage. Thank you so much.”

“Really?” you said it softly, delicately, anxiously.

As if it was a proper way of responding, Jungkook took your hand and placed it on his chest. You could feel it then, under your palm and fingertips, through the fabric of his sweater, his heart. 

“Really.”

And you let yourself believe him a little.

You don’t know how. It was blurry to you, all of it, but somehow, his head ended up in your lap with your fingers threading through his hair and your back pressed to the side of your bed. You both shared the batch of cookies while you finished a few more rows for the scarf before ultimately calling it, putting it to the side, promising him you’d finish it as soon as possible. Instead, a bottle of supermarket wine found its way into your hands, the glasses always filled with the red liquid. Neither of you said much. And really, there simply wasn’t a need to, the minutes ticking by as the night went on and on. An intimacy lay between you, an intimacy most would never know, an intimacy that could only come from the strange nature of your relationship. 

“What?” you said, almost laughing, sure you had to have misheard him.

“I’m serious. I really like it here,” Jungkook repeated. “I like your home, a lot.”

Your mouth opened and closed before you shook your head and laughed. “But why?”

To you, there wasn’t much to like about your home here. If anything there was more to dislike than like. It was too cramped, too small. The furniture was old and shabby and the lights didn’t even work properly. On bad days, it would get either unbearably freezing or hot in here. And on particularly bad days where your luck had run out, the water would run cold and the electricity cut out. There wasn’t much to love here, except for your big bed and pothos you had on your window sill.

“I feel like I get to see another side of you,” Jungkook told you, shrugging and wrinkling his nose. “You seem much more relaxed at home.”

You frowned. “Where else should I be relaxed if not at home?”

He rolled his eyes at your comment, shaking his head. “No, I just mean… you don’t seem on guard at home.”

“I’m on guard?”

There was a pause. He looked at you for a long time, eyes wandering across your entire face.

“Yeah, sometimes.” He wrinkled his forehead a little. “I think you used to be more on guard, or at least you were around me.” There was another pause, another beat, another moment of suspense. “Wouldn’t you say you’ve opened up to me more since you let me in here for the first time?”

The question stumped you. Because did everything really change then? You couldn’t say. To a certain degree, Jungkook was right. Things had drastically shifted between him and you. Before you would have never been in this position—on the floor together, in your home, his head in your lap and your hands combing through his hair as you shared cookies and wine. But before you would have talked about it, established rules and laws and all kinds of conditions, and gone through every possibility. Now though, the two of you had gotten awfully comfortable with just simply not.

“Why? Because I slept with you?” you quipped, knowing already even in your slightly tipsy state that it wasn’t that.

“You know that’s not what I mean,” he said, sighing. You wrinkled your nose and looked to the ceiling for a few moments, leaning your head back.

“Should I be on guard?”

“Around me?” Jungkook said, shaking his head. “No, never. I’m an honest boy.”

You laughed, even more so when you looked at him and he was grinning proudly into your face, standing by his cheesy words. “You make me want to kick you out.”

“Please don’t,” he said, offering you puppy eyes and snuggling even closer to you. “I wouldn’t know what to do if you did.”

He winced when you tugged on his hair, slightly away from you. “You’re annoying.”

Jungkook laughed, and you went back to silence for a while.

“Are you ever going to tell me what Joon and the others said to you that made you run into the bathroom the other day?”

It was probably the alcohol, all the time you had spent together, sitting there on the cold floor. Your mind wasn’t the clearest anymore, and neither was his. 

“They just told me how whipped you are for me. How deeply and madly you’re in love with me,” you snorted, teasingly inching closer to his face with each word before pulling away. 

He smiled a little, clearly expecting worse. “Really? They said that?”

“I know.” You took two big sips, downing more than half of what was in the glass, not wanting to lose that fuzzy feeling in your veins. “It’s funny, right?”

You snorted, knowing exactly what he was thinking—That was ridiculous! 

“But true.”

Jungkook didn’t hesitate. But he said it softly. So softly in fact you looked at him to check that you hadn’t made it up. When his mouth widened into a grin, you scoffed.

“Oh, shut up.”

“It’s true. I do. I am.”

It sounded so very ironic to your ears. You shook your head and scoffed. “Is that what you told Narae too?”

Her mention from your lips surprised Jungkook, his eyes growing a little wider. You were equally as taken aback. But it was true. Because you did think about it sometimes if he did and said the same things to Narae. If everything you experienced with him had been experienced before, just with someone else, someone with a perfect smile and perfect parents. 

“You don’t know me at all, Y/N,” Jungkook mumbled, and it sounded accusatory. 

Your heart dropped in your chest. It felt like you were shot, the hurt instant. You looked away, teeth sinking into your tongue. But he wasn’t off. You didn’t know Jungkook very well. Why should you though? Not like he and you were anything meaningful, like you shared anything truthful. And it was so very embarrassing, so very embarrassing that you felt hurt at all. 

Jungkook seemed to surprise himself with his words, seemed not to mean it like that because he was scrambling the very next second, lifting up from your lap and pleading for you to look his way. 

“No, no, no, I-I don’t mean it like that,” he said, voice a little higher than usual, reaching for your hand, squeezing. There’s a desperation in his voice, a panic swinging with it that he might have just ruined a perfectly fine conversation. 

“You just seem to,” he hesitated, “have this very weird and funny idea of me in your head. I-I never told Narae anything like that. You’re the first one.”

You looked at him. There was a deep crease between his brows, and he went on when you wouldn’t say anything.

“You’re the only one who’s ever made me do these weird things, you know?” He added a chuckle, but there wasn’t much humour to it at all. You tried to smile for him, feeling this conversation was taking a rather serious turn. It was in dire need of some lightness.

“I make you do weird things?” you mumbled, slightly shaking your head, looking away. “I don’t think I’m capable of that.”

“Do you really think I’d try to bake cookies for anyone else in the middle of the night? Or walk to their home at night, not knowing if they’re even actually home because I wanted to surprise them? Or send every Avatar video essay I come across? Do you really think I’d want to dress up with anyone else in a couple’s costume than you?”

You couldn’t find the right response then, your lips pressing together. It was difficult for you to say whether or not you believed him. Because you didn’t think you did, not genuinely at least, not deep down. You never really did with Jungkook, believe him. Because you never let yourself go there, not fully. In the back of your mind, you knew that this was ending, only started because of a stupid little meaningless bet, that your relationship whichever form it had morphed to had no real genuine basis. 

“Do you really think I’d tell anyone else I-”

You shoved a cookie into his mouth, silencing him. Your gaze turned sideways, it was easier to speak for you then. If you looked at Jungkook, you wouldn’t be able to say anything.

“Alright, I got it, Jeon. Now, eat your cookie and shut up,” you chuckled, and your words were accompanied with a lightness, a lightness you forced out of yourself and hoped was enough to quiet Jungkook. He stared at you, eyes big, before ultimately letting out a chuckle himself when he saw you smile at him. He held onto your hand, squeezing it. 

“If I wasn’t too lazy to reach for my phone, I’d take a picture of you right now,” he told you with his mouth stuffed, matching your tone, keeping it light and fun. It was amazing, how both of you simply moved on. He broke off a piece and held it to your mouth. You took it from his fingertips, letting him feed you. The sugar melted on your tongue. “Really thought you had learned your lesson, you know? That you were less judgemental now.”

“Shut up,” you mumbled, still chewing. He laughed when you rolled your eyes.

For a few minutes, neither of you said anything. It seemed like the moment had resolved as easily as it had come up. You took a few sips from your glass, filling it back up when you emptied it, and Jungkook shared the last bite of the cookie with you, holding the piece in front of your lips and allowing you to pull it from his fingertips. And when he kept his fingers in front of your mouth, you pressed a quick kiss to them. He smiled and took your hand into his again, fingers interlacing. 

“You’re so weird,” you said, the corners of your eyes creasing when you smiled. 

Jungkook returned it, opened his mouth to retort something clever and funny, but it was like the fire died in him, as if he simply couldn’t let the moment from before slide as easily as you both had hoped and tried for it to. He reached for it again, pulling it back on shore. His face changed, morphed into something else. You couldn’t pinpoint his exact expression, but your stomach churned. For a second, you felt this brief need to cry.

“You—” He hesitated, afraid to ask because he knew you didn’t want him to and he shouldn’t but he needed to ask. “—believe me, right?”

And somehow that question carried the entire weight of the earth because you suffocated underneath it in an instant. There seemed to be so much. It didn’t make sense, there shouldn’t be any deeper meaning behind his question. After all, he and you weren’t anything! And yet, he looked at you as if you were. When you wouldn’t respond, looked away instead, Jungkook let out a chuckle. But it sounded empty and dry, and you knew you had hurt him. 

“I’m sorry.”

There was a sadness to your words, and he noticed. It was the same kind of sadness he heard colouring your words when you had told him about Jaehwa and the heartbreak that had come with him. And he knew then not to take it to heart, your inability to believe him.

“I’m sorry. I want to- It’s just-”

There was desperation, hurt, frustration. You buried your face into your hands, eyes closing. It’s just hard sometimes! I don’t really believe anyone really, you wanted to say. But you didn’t. The admission felt too much, too hard to bring over your lips, too honest. You couldn’t do it. 

Jungkook didn’t say anything, and you waited for him to take all of his things and go. The front door would click shut and with that, you would have ruined it, all of it, the past few months. But it didn’t happen. You didn’t hear his steps moving away from you, or the front door opening. Instead, Jungkook cupped your face with both of his hands, a smile on his lips when you finally looked at him.

“It’s fine.”

And you wished it felt like that to you. Fine. But you hadn’t felt quite fine for a while now. Not since your heart began filling up every time you looked at him. 

“Is it?”

His gaze softened, melted like the first layer of snow in the early morning hours. His thumb brushed over your cheekbones, and his touch was so very warm and comforting. You closed your eyes, and he pressed his lips to yours. It did feel fine right then when he kissed you. He held you firmly and strongly, he wasn’t going to let go. Even if you might not believe him and had your doubts. Your hands curled around his shirt, and you were the one to pull it off of him. Because you needed that right now, something simple. 

“Are you sure-”

You silenced him, removing your shirt. He looked at you for another second before kissing you again. You moved up from the floor to your bed. His lips pressed to every inch of your skin, slow and delicately. Your breathing flattened, soft whimpers emerging from your throat when his hands wandered, brushed the inside of your thighs. Jungkook was everywhere, holding and gripping and squeezing and kissing. It made your chest swell, and for a second, you thought you needed a second heart. Another one to hold it all in. All the feelings brewing inside you, all of your feelings for him. It was too much to bear for your one singular heart.

He held you, stayed close. He never allowed any space between him and you, never allowed you to think he’d get up and leave. And you never let him slip away from you, not tonight, caging him in. One day he would, you were certain of it, convinced. The contract was running up with each day, but right now, he was here, closer than ever.

And in the high of it all, your breaths mixed with his, the air smelling of sweat and lust, your faces flushed and bodies sticky, there were words lying between him and you. In fact, there was so much, it felt heavy. You hoped, in vain, he would let it slide, quietly.

“Y/N, I-”

Jungkook stopped when you shook your head, pleading. You knew the ending of his sentence, he had told you it many times before. And right now, the thought of hearing it, hurt you more than it ever had before. 

“I-”

But he stopped again when you closed your eyes and pressed your lips to his in response, hands cupping his face. He hesitated at first before kissing you back, hoping you’d understand either way. That he wanted this. That he wanted you. You didn’t say it, but Jungkook knew not to cross that line, not right now. As if him not saying it would prevent the inevitable heartbreak you’d be going through in just a few weeks, would change anything. As if you didn’t already love him more than you could comprehend. As if loving him didn’t hurt you.

→ thanks for reading !! if you have any thoughts, id love to hear it!

#jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #bts scenarios #bts angst #bts fluff #jungkook implied smut #bts x reader

[outerbankies]

did rafes roomies ever know about his crush on yn before they started going out?

wrote this up super quick!!! y/n’s besties get a lot of love but we can’t forget rafe’s disaster trio 🫶

—

new light: girl at home — rafe cameron

new light masterlist

warnings: alcohol and swearing

“Why are you leaving again?”

Rafe grunts in disapproval from where he’s sifting through his tiny dorm closet, slipping a few more button-up shirts off of their hangers to pack carefully into his carry-on bag. “My dad has this thing he wanted me home for.”

“You drivin’?” Sawyer asks, surveying the mess of Rafe’s clothes on his bed.

His dad and Rose had been very specific about what he needed to wear this weekend, and the nerves convinced him it might be a good idea to just pack everything he owned, apparently. Cody lays somewhere under the pile downing a beer and scrolling on his phone, feet kicked up on the wall beside Rafe’s bed. Graham isn’t even here currently, yet his side of the room remains completely unoccupied.

“No, way too long. Flight’s tomorrow. Hey, can one of you drive me?” Rafe remembers.

“What time you gotta be there?” Cody asks dutifully.

“Six.”

Rafe rolls his eyes when they both start laughing, already dressed to go out and probably shut down the bars tonight, as is usual for a Thursday evening. Rafe wishes he could let himself be convinced to tag along, the whole reason his friends had even shown up at his dorm tonight, but he can’t even dare to risk missing that flight tomorrow.

“Rafe, I wish you a very safe Uber,” Sawyer says by way of answer, from where he’s rummaging through Rafe and Graham’s shared mini fridge.

“What’s so important? Thanksgiving’s like two weeks from now anyway,” Cody wonders. He crushes his beer can and immediately throws it across the room, where it misses the trash can.

“Dude,” Rafe sighs, folding everything as neatly as possible. “I’m trying to pack and you’re making a fucking mess in here.”

“Cheer up Cameron, have a beer,” Sawyer says, handing Rafe one of his own beers. “Oh, and come out with us.”

“Guys I can’t,” Rafe reiterates, wishing it weren’t so as he moves his laptop into his backpack, away from Cody’s line of fire. “It’s this stupid club thing in my hometown. There’s this society—I don’t even know, but they’re honoring my dad so he wants me home.”

“Every time you talk about your hometown it seems faker,” Sawyer says. Rafe doesn’t disagree, opening the beer he’d been passed against his better judgement. He just has to remind himself he really can’t let himself get dragged out tonight.

“You have a girl at home, right?” Cody suddenly asks. Rafe shakes his head after taking a gulp.

“No. I mean—my ex from high school, but that’s ancient history,” Rafe says, falling back onto Graham’s bed with his own occupied. He closed his eyes for a second; packing his clothes and making sure nothing had even a loose thread, the feel of his fresh haircut on his neck—it was all swirling him like a dark cloud.

He really couldn’t wait to see his sisters, even if the fact that Sarah could legally pick him up and drive him home from the airport made him feel old as shit. But it was a random weekend, so none of his friends would even be home from their college towns. And it was a weekend where he couldn’t even promise himself to stay out of the house and away from Ward as much as possible, because it was literally the only reason he was going to the Outer Banks—to stand there and praise his father as a pillar of the community.

“Rafe.”

“Sorry,” he answers Cody, scrubbing a hand over his face, still staring at the ceiling. “What’d you ask?”

“I was asking about the other chick. The one your buddy talked about when he was here?” Cody says.

“Oh, yeah,” Sawyer says. “Kelce told us. What about her?”

Rafe furrows his eyebrows, his interest piqued. Kelce had been there just a couple of weeks ago to visit, and Rafe would be lying if he said he wasn’t missing half the weekend. Kelce was always his partner in crime during Figure 8 antics, and the two of them unleashed on a college town had left Rafe the most hungover he’d been in his short life. “What was Kelce talking about?”

“He asked you about that girl—god, what was her name?” Cody says, rolling over onto his side, his eyebrows pinched together in concentration. “It’s on the tip of my tongue.”

“No it isn’t, dumbass,” Sawyer says.

“You’re both dumbasses,” Rafe quips, reaching for his beer again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Across the room, Sawyer had at some point found a couple of shot glasses and dragged whatever was left of the Burnett’s out of the mini fridge. He places the bottle down suddenly, looking lost in thought.

“You really don’t remember?”

“No,” Rafe says. “What did he say?”

“Kelce asked you about her, and you—drunk as shit at McGee’s—were like ‘I don’t know,’” Cody whines in imitation. “‘I miss her, she never talks to me anymore, her dog is so cute—’”

Rafe sits up immediately, feeling his entire complexion flush red. “Oh, that’s nobody.”

He clears his throat as a silence falls over the room, standing up again to pretend to keep packing, even though he’d already zippered his bag closed.

“Okay,” Cody says. “So she’s not nobody.”

Sawyer laughs loudly. “Yeah, no shit.”

“Both of you shut the fuck up.”

Through the ignored jabs, Rafe doesn’t hear the door swing open, or his roommate make an appearance, until Graham voices his own arrival. “What are we teasing Cameron about?”

“Dude,” Cody says, scrambling up from the bed. Rafe nearly lunges for him, knowing it’s his last resort. He throws a shoe instead, which Cody ducks expertly. “Graham. Dude. What was the name of that girl from Rafe’s hometown?”

“Y/n?” Graham answers immediately.

Rafe shuts his eyes as noise fills the room, cursing the day he ever met any of these idiots due to random roommate assignments. “Thanks a lot.”

“No problem, buddy,” Graham pats his back with a grin. “So that’s why you got a haircut? You seein’ your girl this weekend?”

“No, and she’s not my girl,” Rafe says. “Kelce was just fucking around. He’s an idiot, like all of you.”

“She’s hot though, right?” Sawyer asks.

“Yeah, she’s hot,” Rafe admits easily, even if talking about you like this stirs something uncomfortable up in his chest. “But we’re just friends.”

“Never even hooked up?”

“Alright,” Rafe says, threshold reached. “Cut it out.”

“Found her.”

Rafe looks up in confusion as Graham and Sawyer are pushing each other out of the way to peer over Cody’s shoulder at his phone.

“Ah, dude,” Sawyer groans. “She’s private?”

“Go to Rafe’s page,” Graham says.

“Suck my dick, Graham,” Rafe says, going ignored save for a middle finger.

“There she is. That one.”

“You took her to prom and didn’t hook up with her?” Cody asks.

“I didn’t take her to prom,” Rafe sighs, knowing exactly what picture they’re all looking at. It makes him look like a simp and probably isn’t the best thing to have on his page the next time he’s trying to talk to a girl, but he doesn’t really care. It’s a great photo of you, and he’ll probably never take it down. “Kelce did, actually.”

“So he’s hooking up with your girl?” Sawyer presumes.

“Alright, easy,” Graham says, which is rich seeing as he started this entire episode, but Rafe is grateful either way. But it’s short lived. “Don’t talk about Rafe’s girl like that.”

“She’s not—”

“Is it weird if I request to follow her?” Cody asks.

“Yes but do it,” Sawyer goads. “I wanna see.”

“Dude, don’t follow her,” Graham says. Rafe doesn’t let the sincerity fool him this time, raising his eyebrows in expectation as he waits for the punchline, which his roommate delivers readily with another grin. “Rafe’ll get jealous.”

#new light hcs #rafe cameron #outer banks #rafe cameron x reader #college rafe <3

[corporatefrog]

╰┈➤ Welcome Back to the Channel part 16; free ice cream

✧.* featuring kyle and yn walking to an unknown (and probably fine, totally not murderous) location : ̗̀➛ notes - here's your daily reminder to why i don't write serious things lmao tags - college au, superhero au, smau

series masterlist previous | next

Kyle didn’t tell me where we were going. 

“We’re going to talk to the doctor.” He’d say as if it weren’t the most infuriatingly cryptic thing ever. What kind of superhero noir film does he think we’re in?

Rule number 1 is don’t follow men into unknown dark places. Granted, the men in those situations are built like a Jostar and super scary. Compared to that, Kyle is more of a pomeranian off his leash. I could tell him that Donald Glover leaves Community in the fifth season and he’d be out of commission for long enough to kick his lanky legs and take him down. 

Why are we thinking about the specifics of physically restraining our friend?

You can never be too prepared.

Now you’re being cryptic. We aren't even in a sketchy area. Isn’t that literally craig’s house?

My focus returned to my surroundings as I noticed the houses lining the street. I’d only seen craig’s house once when Butters shared a picture of a bear standing in his driveway, thinking it was a dog, but that was enough to solidify the house to memory. 

Without realizing, my steps slowed as I became lost in my thoughts again. 

I’m in the neighborhood where Craig’s family lives. Clyde told me he lived in the same neighborhood with the guys for most of their life. That means Kyle probably lives in the same neighborhood too. Kyle knows about Butters.

And we’re diving in this hole, WHY?

Shut up, I’m onto something... I think.

Kyle knows about Butters. Butters is Chaos. We’re in Craig’s neighborhood. Craig. Butters. Kyle. Superheroes. Craig. Fucking SUPER CRAIG. 

Holy shit. I forgot about Super Craig.

“KYLE!” I snapped back to reality. Kyle had gotten a half a block ahead of me. When he turned back, his own nervous gaze met mine. He held up a finger to his lips, gesturing to the dark street as a reminder that this isn’t the place to shout this late at night. 

I pressed my lips together to hopefully hold back any other impulsive shouts and speed walked to catch up with him. 

“Kyle we’re so fucking stupid. I can’t believe I didn’t realize it-” Kyle cut off my rambling.

“What? Is something wrong?” He asked, voice matching my own panic as his nerves bounced off of mine. 

“Of course something is wrong. Craig’s a superhero too! Don’t you see it?” I asked, looking up at Kyle. Panic radiated off both of us, air growing electric as our thoughts bounced off of each other in a silent amplification of anxiety.

Kyle opened his mouth to respond but no words came out. He paused, then closed his mouth, swallowing the words. He turned away from me, continuing down the sidewalk as though I didn’t just drop a friendship altering bomb.

“Come on, we’ve got to get to Timmy’s house.” Kyle said over his shoulder, turning to walk up the steps of a house at the end of the block. 

Who the fuck is timmy?

"Are we not going to address this? Or do I only get one theory confirmed every 24 hours?" I questioned, jogging to catch up with Kyle on the doorstep.

He didn't look in my direction. Instead he rung the doorbell and kept his eye trained on the entryway. "All of the above."

“This free ice cream better come with a month of therapy after this bullshit.” I muttered to myself as the door swung open revealing him. The one who is meant to answer all of my questions. The one who had the power to keep Kyle Broflovski silent.

Dr. Timothy.

taglist [reply to be added]: @sula0kin @lacuna-at-dawn @anglettecolours @cocolena@sukisprettyface @feverish-dove @sweetadonisbutbetter @hand-writxen@mishstuff@sophtophie @triphovia  @lacunaanonymoused @inkedintothepaper @toodeepintofandoms@mmmaackerel @sillybilly-123@n0tangeliccc

#next chapter is text so dont worry if you hate these #i have another story idea for after this that'll be more written oriented so pls lmk if you like this style!! #welcome back to the channel #south park smau #south park x reader #south park #corporatefrog #tfbw #sp tfbw #the fractured but whole

[essence-inked]

The Great Rooster Rivalry - Part 1

AKA, an incident so absurd it needed to be shared.

______________________________________

Today isn’t the first time I’ve had someone decide that we’re rivals when I’m Literally Just Vibing, but - aside from some brief hostility from a very ornery turkey at the animal rescue center I volunteered at a while back - the few one-sided nemeses I’ve wound up with have been human. The good news there is that with humans, you can do things like use your words to say “how about we calmly talk this out.” Or, if that fails, you can always try “leave me the fuck alone.” Or even “If you don’t leave me the fuck alone, I will get someone who can make you do that to intervene, so kindly go away now please.”

Unfortunately, when it comes to chickens, communication gets a little bit harder.

To tell this story, I’m going to need to back up just a little and drop some backstory on y’all. I’m living in a small town on account of the local college having a pretty sweet grad program I’m enrolled in, and while I can’t say I adore the lack of public transit, one of the cool things about living here is that it’s only about a ten minute walk from where I live to get to The Backroads. There’s only one entrance to them that’s nearby, but once you get out there, you can wander around the winding roads through trees and over hills and past farms for quite literally hours on end. So needless to say, in terms of this vs. walking along the busy road into the center of town, if I want to wander around outside, obviously it’s going to be in the place with views like this:

But that said, I haven’t been out that way in about a week or so thanks to messing up my back enough to send me stumbling into the hospital looking so bad someone immediately rolled out a wheelchair. And now that I’m doing a bit better, I’ve resolved to make sure that I compensate for the hours sitting in front of a computer that landed me with said back injury in the first place by doing a whole bunch of yoga, and also by making sure I go out for a walk on the backroads every day.

All of this is to say, I’m pretty set on sticking to walking this way on the reg, and right past the turnoff to the backroads is a house with a whole bunch of chickens. Now, normally, this isn’t a problem at all, and it’s actually really neat to see the chickens hanging haout in their enclosure. But sometime in the past week, one of them apparently decided to start a career as an escape artist.

Harry - as I’ve dubbed him for said escape artist tendencies - was hanging out in the middle of the road as I strolled on along my way, and as I came closer, he made a beeline for me. Initially, I figured I’d just keep walking, but I guess someone passing through his rightful territory didn’t quite gel with him, because he just kept coming.

Also, here he is just chilling before he decided I was a horrible trespasser who must be stopped:

Aggressive chickens are nothing new to me, so I did what normally works - first trying to move slowly back and away so I could give him a wider berth, and when that didn’t do the trick, went for a a loud and forceful “hey, BACK OFF.” while moving purposefully towards him. I guess Harry hadn’t gotten the memo that when the being that is significantly larger than you doesn’t seem like they’re scared, the move may just be to take the hint and chill out.

Next thing I knew, Harry hurled himself at me in full attack mode, and on impulse, I kicked the poor bastard squarely in the chest. Apparently I have more skill points in rooster punting than I thought, because the guy went flying, and while he was regaining his footing, I was able to get the heck out of there at a nice fast clip. I took a quick detour to knock on the door of the house with the chicken enclosure in their yard to tell them that, hey, your dumbass bird son is wandering around in the middle of the street and he’s going to get hit by a car probably, but no one answered, so I figured I’d just have to head off on my walk and hope Harry didn’t get himself killed. He didn’t chase after me when I left, presumably because he was still busy being surprised he’d had his ass handed to him, and I assumed that was that.

Half an hour later, I came wandering back along the road towards home, still feeling guilty for punting this poor bird who was just acting on the angry dinosaur instincts embedded in his tiny little brain. And I guess Harry really didn’t like being punted, because as soon as he saw me, he came at me with the sort of righteous fury that sends all caution straight to the wind. From his perspective, I'm sure my five-foot-two wimpy-ass self was some sort of great and terrible Goliath, and he was the valiant protector of his lands, determined to vanquish me no matter the peril.

Unfortunately for him, when nothing else worked to get him to back off this second time, it was once again rooster-punting o’clock.

I spent the next several minutes lamenting the fact that Harry and I now seemed doomed to a never-ending cycle of violence every time I decided to go for a walk on the backroads, and as much of a bastard as he is, I really didn’t want to keep kicking him. I wasn’t sure if his humans would do a better job of keeping him from running around defending his lands in his self-sabotaging rage, so I realized I’d need to take the first steps towards mending this one-sided rivalry myself.

So, I’ve decided to start bringing some snacks for Harry with me on my walks, and hopefully if I show him that I am also a benevolent Goliath, he’ll warm up to me. I’m not sure if it will work, but I’d like to think the power of snacks may just succeed here.

Stay tuned for a part two, and if anyone’s got any ideas for how to patch things up with my new and very much undesired archnemesis, please feel free to share!

#ink posts #funny story #storytelling #personal anecdote #non fiction #writing #writing inked

[steele-soulmate]

Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 484, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU

SUMMARY: Mary Claire Bradley meets her soulmate- literally- the famous Peter Steele of metal group Type O Negative. But will obstacles including trauma, stalkers, and toxic family members get in the way of their life?

WARNING: mentions of child rape (nothing graphic) PTSD, milk kink, soft smut, grinding, assault, fingering, hand jobs, blow jobs, 69, P in V sex, blood, noncon rape, violence, death, vandalism, graffiti, attempted kidnapping, break-ins, wild animal attacks, terrorist attack (sabotage) consensual impregnation, bareback, impregnation kink, creampies, terrorist attacks (shootings) hit and run pedestrian accident, precipitous labor, neonatal death

WORDS: 1114

“Kids, wheels up in twenty minutes!” I yelled from my spot at the base of the stairs before turning and waddling back over to where Isabelle was grabbing a quick bite to eat before rushing out to attend a seminar at the community college campus. She wore a cute black witch hat with a spiderweb printed bow and spider earrings to celebrate the spooky holiday that night. “Hihi there Izzy bear.”

“Hihi there, Mary Claire,” she returned the greeting with a sweet smile. “I’m sorry, Sister Mary Claire.”

A snigger flew out of my mouth at the reference to my Halloween costume. I wore a dark grey dress and a nun’s wimple and veil covered my loosely braided back curls. This year, I would be Miss Clavel, and I had adopted the more modern interpretations of the character.

“You want to know something interesting, but in earlier versions of Madeline, Miss Clavel was portrayed as a nurse,” I rambled, accepting a sweet kiss from her. “It wasn’t until recently that she was displayed as a member of the Catholic faith.”

“And why are you a nun tonight?” Isabelle wondered as heavy footsteps started to pound up the stairs from the basement.

“Well, Peter does have a priest kink,” I reminded her with a giggle, pulling away as the door swung open, revealing my handsome silver daddy, wearing a black button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, black jeans, black boots, his black leather jacket and his green priest collar. “Hihi there, my love.”

“Sister Mary Claire,” he growled, stalking into the kitchen and depositing me onto the kitchen counter before crowding himself into me. “Jesus fuck sweetheart…”

Isabelle giggled as she finished up her bowl of leftover spaghetti and meatballs before rinsing the bowl out and then putting it and her fork into the dishwasher.

“Well, I’d best be off now!” she announced, smiling at the kids as they appeared in the doorway, dressed for the concert in their Madeline Halloween costumes- Elizabeth and Elle, Katie and Jing, little girl and Baby Tommy and their dollies. “Hey there kids, I’m leaving now- can I get some huggies?”

I giggled at the swarm of love that almost knocked over the family nanny as my husband was running his nose against the shell of my ear.

“Down boy,” I scolded at Baby Violet Marie let out a crabby kick.

KICK KICK KICK KICK

“You can fuck me after we get home later tonight, yeah?” I breathed softly. “And then tomorrow, we go to the hospital to welcome Baby Violet Marie into the world.”

“I can’t wait to meet my daughter,” he confessed, helping me down off the counter and scooping the babies up into his arms.

Mittens wandered into the kitchen just then, Primrose close on her heels as the skunklet sought out wherever her mother would wonder off to.

MEOW Mittens asked me, looking concerned as I pressed a hand against my unborn daughter, telling her to calm down.

KICK KICK KICK KICK

“I’m alright, Miss Mittens,” I told her as I waddled over to the door that led down into the garage. “Can you give the kids some love before we leave?”

MEOW she reluctantly agrees as the girls went to pet her and Primrose.

“Daisy?” Elizabeth called out, and her loyal four legged friend appeared in the doorway just then, her tail waving much like a flag. “Guard the house.”

WOOF she said, coming over to press her nose into my popped out tummy.

PUNCH

“Alright now girls, let’s go down and get into the car now!” I clucked as I followed behind them and closed the door behind me. I was helped into the passenger seat by Peter, who had finished buckling the babies into the seats.

“Sweetheart,” he rumbled with pure love in his green eyes. “Are you ready?”

“I am yes.” I ignored the sinking feeling in my tummy as he pulled out of the garage and smoothly drove down the streets before hopping onto the freeway and heading into downtown.

“Well then, here we go,” he announced, being met with cheers from the kids. “Hey sweetheart, there will be food at the concert venue for the performers to eat. Pizza, garlic knots, nachos…”

“So in other words, unhealthy food,” I corrected him. “Just for tonight, then tomorrow, we’ll get back to eating healthier food, alright my love?”

“Your food is really delicious, woman of my heart!” he told me with a chuckle as he kept his eyes out on the road and placed a hand onto my knee. “Ooh and before I forget, someone will be there getting pictures for a news article or something else like that.”

“Good to know, my love!” I chuckled, wincing as Baby Violet Marie gave out a strong punch.

PUNCH

“Take it easy in there, Baby Violet Marie!” Peter scolded her, moving his hand from my knee to my stomach, all without looking away from the road. “Your mommy is a truly amazing woman. I hope you grow up with love for her in your heart.”

PUNCH

The punch that followed was softer, as though she was apologizing for her past action.

“I can’t wait to meet you, Baby Violet Marie,” Peter confessed as he paused next to a man in charge of parking and being sent to a spot next to the concert hall. I got a soft kick in reply, as though she was saying, and I can’t wait to meet my mommy and my daddy!

KICK

TAGLISTS ARE OPEN/ ASK BOX IS OPEN/ REQUESTS ARE OPEN/ PLOT BUNNIES ARE WELCOMED

If you liked this, then please consider buying me a coffee HERE It only costs $3!!!

PETER STEELE TAGLIST

@rock-a-noodle

@ch3rry-c01a

#Real person fiction (RPF) #Tattooed Wings #Peter Thomas Ratajczyk #Type O Negative #Vanessa Rose Pickings/ little girl #Special needs baby #Aria Bradley #Evie Bradley #Deaf #American Sign Language (ASL) #Elizabeth Ratajczyk #Alopecia #Thomas Joseph Ratajczyk/ Baby Tommy #Autism #Katie Ratajczyk #Down’s Syndrome #Baby Violet Marie #Neonatal death #Matching tattoos soulmate AU

[satendou]

⟼  monster

⍣ all time low series | next | 1/4

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢  pairing: tendo/reader

⇢ au: atl!au, college!au

⇢ summary: you like horror movies, tendou likes horror movies, what could go wrong?

⇥ masterlist

⇢ warnings: unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, mentions of bullying, insecurities, piercings, cursing

⇢ word count: 13.2k

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ a/n: i think this is the biggest fic i’ve ever written and it’s one of my favorites, if not my absolute favorite i’ve written so far. it was kinda hard to write it in a way that stayed true to my vision for it but also didn’t make it childish, so i hope i succeeded in that regard. as always, thank you to @keijiskitten​ for editing this!

“Oh, come on, ‘Kaashi,” you said, setting your hand on your hip. You were standing around in the middle of the classroom with him and a few others, waiting for your professor to show up who was no doubt getting a coffee from the overflowing Starbucks down the street. Class would be half over before he finally arrived. “It’s just a few scary movies.”

“Sorry, _____. I have to study and I just know that trying to watch movies with you and study is gonna be a nightmare,” he said, giving you a sympathetic look. “And give me nightmares.”

You rolled your eyes and looked around to Bokuto, who was scrolling through his phone while he chatted with Yaku about the next practice. That was a hard no. Poor Bo would agree without complaint and wind up with nightmares for a week, clinging to you throughout the night. Catching Akaashi’s eye, you exchanged knowing looks and chuckles.

“Hey, _____,” Semi said from your other side. He was busy filling out a music sheet with notes for his next possible song, and the way he said your name indicated he was more focused on that than your quandary.

Still, you turned to look at him over your shoulder, quirking your eyebrow at him. When he didn’t immediately continue, you prompted him. “What’s up?”

“Oh, right,” he said, looking up from the paper. He gave you a small smile and tapped the tip of his pencil on the desk in a smooth rhythm, leaving small marks all over the surface. “You should see if Tendo wants to join you. He’s really into horror movies too.”

“Um, who?”

Semi’s eyes widened in surprise and he pointed over his shoulder. You could hear Akaashi snicker from your other side. The chair on Semi’s other side tipped back on its back legs, and a man with close-cut red hair peeked around his back, waving cheekily at you.

“Hi, name’s Tendo Satori. I’ve only been hanging around you for about two weeks now,” he said and, though he sounded lighthearted and jovial about it, you could see the way his eyes remained narrowed, scrutinizing you. And he didn’t look impressed.

You flushed bright red, realizing you did know him but had never committed his name to memory. Mostly because he hadn’t ever really said anything to you or seemed interested in you at all. 

“I-- well, I’m sorry,” you offered awkwardly. But you meant it, at least. You felt a bit bad now that he was in your face. Trying to lighten the mood, you joked, “I’m _____ _____ and my brain space is committed to horror movies and studying. No space for names I’m afraid.”

Semi rolled his eyes and Akaashi heaved a long-suffering sigh, covering his eyes with his hand, but Tendo laughed at your stupid joke. His eyes eased up, his smile relaxing, and he now looked genuinely interested. 

“A horror movie marathon, huh? I’m interested. Why don’t you tell me more?”

--

Tendo didn’t actually expect it to go his way. As with most other people, he was sure you were just faking your enthusiasm and would flake out once you were free of him. 

And yet when lunch rolled around and your group of friends were standing in the breezeway, shivering as you tried to pick out some place to go and eat off campus, you fell into step beside him.

“I really am sorry for not knowing who you were,” you offered, adjusting your bag on your shoulder and slipping a pair of gloves on. “Could we, maybe--”

He cut you off, grinning. “Forgiven and forgotten, _____.”

Hesitantly, you smiled back. He was strange, to be sure. Even though you hadn’t really had a true conversation with him yet, you got the feeling he was different, eccentric and unpredictable maybe. The way he harassed the shit out of Semi and some of the others was hysterical, though. You couldn’t pinpoint what it was that made you feel that way, but it wasn’t bad. You were even a little curious.

“Okay cool. So if, by chance, we were to do this movie marathon, how would you feel about cannibals?” you asked, tapping your chin thoughtfully. It was a theme you had been thinking about for a while, but none of your friends were into horror movies much, let alone a dozen or so movies centered around such a gory theme.

Tendo clicked his tongue and you heard a strange clink. “Hypothetically, right?”

“Right,” you said, your eyes zeroed in on his mouth, waiting for him to speak again.

He hummed, his lips curling in thought and his eyes narrowing as he stared off in the distance. Second in height only to Bokuto, he towered over everyone even though the two of you walked together at the back of the group. Speaking of Bokuto, you could hear him over the chatter of the other students around you, talking about the diner just a block away from the school and guessed that that was where you were going. 

Then he shrugged. “That sounds rad. What’re you thinking? Hypothetically.”

“Well, obviously gotta go with The Hills Have Eyes. I mean, it’s a classic. And then of course Wrong Turn because there’s so many of those. And, uh…that’s all I have, but that’s literally like 8 movies and if we get past those I don’t know what we’ll do,” you said, weaving through the throngs of people on the sidewalk. You had forgotten you had been trying to see what was in his mouth just a few minutes ago as you avoided toes. You could see the diner sign up ahead, reading “Newly Opened” and a list of menu items, but it was otherwise obscured from your view.

A gasp from Tendo startled you and you whipped around to look at him, only to find him staring at you in disbelief.

He had to fight the laugh in his chest from coming up at the wide-eyed, freaked out look on your face as he said, “I cannot believe you’ve forgotten the most classic of classic cannibal movies, _____. How could you forget The Texas Chainsaw Massacre movies?”

Relief mingled with amusement on your face when you realized what he was getting at, and you covered your mouth as you laughed. Putting on your best ashamed expression, you closed your eyes. “I can’t believe I forgot those. I’m such a fake fan.”

“Kicked out of the club for sure,” he said, holding the door open for you. The bustle of the diner drowned out anything more Tendo said as you followed the others towards a large table in the back corner. After that, you were seated between Semi and Akaashi and the conversation was halted.

For the time being.

--

You didn’t bring up the marathon again, though you snagged Tendo’s number the day after you went to the diner. The conversation started out about movies and morphed into other topics like majors, highschools, how he knew Eita and how you had met Bokuto and Akaashi, amongst others. It left Tendo in a bit of confusion. The two of you kept up a steady stream of communication throughout the day, even sneaking in texts during classes that could net you extra work or pop quizzes. And yet never once was the marathon mentioned.

Part of him was bummed because he had kind of been looking forward to the movies, but the larger part of him was unsurprised. Something like that was way too intimate, and for someone like you to want to do something like that with a-- someone like him was too much to hope for. He was just happy that you weren’t avoiding him like most others did; he wasn’t going to ask for more.

Except he kind of did want more, and he didn’t want to feel that. The disappointment was already tangible on his tongue and he swallowed it down every time he saw you in the hall, chatting or laughing with someone else. It would ease slightly when you would turn to look in his direction, flashing a smile and waving as you passed by. In class, you started sitting beside him, Bokuto and Akaashi often following behind, and he found his small group of friends growing because of you. Bokuto was loud and brash and treated him like they were best friends, and Akaashi’s quiet demeanor reminded him a lot of Ushijima. Except he was maybe a little more expressive. 

You even started walking home with him, parting ways when you had to go in different directions with a soft smile and a shine in your eyes that he tried not to read too much into. He enjoyed those days, when no one else was around and he just talked. You even knew some of the manga he read, and he lost himself rambling about Jump. When he brought it up once, about how he talked too much, you shook your head frantically. 

“No, no, I don’t mind! It reminds me of Bokuto, to be honest. He can talk about anything and keep a conversation going so easily. I’m kinda jealous,” you said, giving him that satisfied smile again.

He tried to clamp down on the feelings, to keep a tight rein on the emotions that kept trying to pull his eyes in your direction anytime he heard your voice or drew his thoughts to you late at night.

Sighing, he rubbed his eyes, frustrated at the fact that he was thinking of you a-fuckin’-gain. Didn’t he have enough to worry about without wondering what you thought of him? He already knew. You weren’t interested. It was fine.

His phone dinged, the screen lighting up to reveal your name and a text.

You: ‘watcha up to?’ Tendo: ‘nm. studying and suffering. you?’ Y: ‘“studying” sksks what’re you doing tomorrow night by chance?’

Tendo’s heart stuttered in his chest and he groaned, barely resisting the urge to fling his phone out the frost covered window in front of him. For the love of god, could the universe stop fucking with him? Clicking his tongue, he considered telling you he was busy. It would be easiest, and save him the disappointment that was sure to accompany whatever you had planned.

But his fingers were traitorous and typed out exactly what he didn’t want to say. Or so he told himself.

T: ‘nothin. what’re you thinkin?’ Y: ‘well...i’m thinkin about cannibals’

Tendou snorted at that and watched the three little dots appear again.

Y: ‘and u’

He choked and slammed his phone down on the desk, wincing and immediately picking it back up to check the damage. No, no way, he wouldn’t look at it like that. It wasn’t like that. You were just inviting him for the movie marathon in a totally platonic way.

Another message came in.

Y: ‘and me’

You were actually trying to kill him.

--

He could think of nothing the next day but how much he was looking forward to that night. Once he had finally gotten his shit together enough to text you back, the kinks had been worked out. It was almost a no brainer that he would be spending the night. A movie marathon with twelve movies meant an all-nighter, if the two of you could pull it off. He would go home after classes, while away the few hours until around six o’clock, and then head to the address you had given him. 

Unfortunately, he didn’t see much of you that day. You shared no classes, and you had a class when he took lunch, so he ate with Semi and Bokuto that day. Instead you snuck texts to him when you could, mostly talking about how excited you were for that night. It didn’t help, somehow both fanning and soothing his inner turmoil.

“Why do you look like you’re gonna throw up?” Semi asked at last. Tendo was staring at his half-eaten chicken sandwich like it had mortally offended him, and he was curious. 

Tendo jumped, having forgotten the other two were even with him, and shook his head. “Uh, nothin’.”

But Bokuto snickered and leaned in to whisper to Semi, who was already suspicious of his short, clipped answer. Whether he actually wanted to whisper or not, Tendo wasn’t sure, but Bo sure as shit didn’t manage it. “Him and _____ are gonna watch movies tonight.”

Of course you had told Bokuto. And probably Akaashi too. He wondered if they had changed their minds and decided to join you when they found out. It put a rather annoying feeling in his chest, like someone was squeezing his heart.

The other two were still talking in a loud whisper, watching Tendo’s expression shift and flicker through a myriad of emotions. Bokuto was lost, but Semi could recognize them after so many years of knowing the moody red-head, and wanted to laugh. He was so good at hiding his negative emotions, but when it came to sadness or happiness, he was like an open book. And he was being pretty obvious right then.

“Wow, that’s pretty big, Tendo,” he said, watching his friend closely. Tendo flinched, shrinking into his hoodie, and Semi nodded to himself. “Don’t let yourself get so worked up. She wouldn’t ask if she didn’t want to.”

He knew where Tendo’s insecurities were coming from. A childhood fraught with bullies and fake friends and people pretending they wanted him around only to treat him like a freak. Even through highschool it was that way, with a particularly nasty incident involving a girl pretending to want to date him that ended with Tendo refusing to come to school for almost a week. After that, he kept to himself and the volleyball club, refusing to even acknowledge that anyone else might actually want to get to know him seriously.

It had gotten a bit easier when he left Shiratorizawa and those memories and most of those people behind. Growing up with them was what had made it hardest, so surrounding himself with fresh people who didn’t have any preconceived notions and rumors about him had allowed him to open up a little. Even Ushijima, across the ocean in California, noticed a marked difference in Tendo’s demeanor.

Semi just hoped you didn’t do anything to send him spiralling back into his insecurities.

“Yeah, I guess.” 

It was easy for Semi to say that, but he had no idea what it was like, constantly worrying if people were being serious or if they were just waiting to pull the rug out from under him. Even now, he was fighting with himself to just get through the day, waiting constantly for you to change your mind and cancel the plans. Every time his phone lit up with your name, he expected it.

And yet, even after his classes ended and he arrived home, you didn’t. Just commenting that you would be MIA for a while while you cleaned the apartment and went to the store. And when you came back a few hours later, while he was binging Buzzfeed Unsolved videos, his heart leapt into his throat, but you were only telling him what you had gotten for him and to pick up anything else he might want on the way over.

The time couldn’t pass by fast enough while he busied himself packing as slowly as he could. He was already wearing sweatpants but brought a pair of basketball shorts just in case. A clean t-shirt and the other essential items he would need for the night went into a backpack, and when that was done he decided it was a good time to leave.

Unable to help himself, he sent you a text before he left, interrupting whatever you were already typing, the three little bubbles disappearing for a moment while you read his text.

T: ‘you sure you’re alright with this? i don’t have to come over’ Y: ‘?’ Y: ‘do u not want to!’ Y: ‘?*’ Y: ‘we can do this another time if you want’

He was typing before he could really think about the possibility that that might be the best option, his heart thumping harder than he liked in his chest, and he willed himself to take a deep breath. It was just two friends hanging out, watching horror movies together. Nothing more.

T: ‘no i do. was just making sure you were still ok w it.’ T: ‘leaving now to get snacks. your choices s u c k’ Y: ofc hurry up and get over here Y: ‘tf rude’

Locking the door behind him, he slung his bag onto his shoulder and sighed, hoping the night didn’t end as badly as his nerves were telling him it would.

--

Your doorbell rang an hour later, while you were in the middle of setting up your room for the binge. You were hoping he wouldn’t mind, but you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable either. It was hard to miss the nervousness and the way he seemed to shy away from you sometimes, especially when you did certain things like reach out to pull something off his hoodie or read something over his shoulder. But you wanted this to be as normal as possible, to prove to him you were genuine.

You liked Tendo. A lot. 

He was funny and sweet and just as eccentric as you had expected. His jokes were off-color but not offensive, just sarcastic and witty and you giggled every time. The way his face lit up when he heard you sent your heart into a frenzy, and the way it fell and he seemed to shrink into himself a moment later hurt. It didn't feel like a rejection of you but instead a rejection of himself and you wondered if there was any way to help him understand that you didn’t want anything from him but for him to be himself.

Upon opening the door, you found it was only the pizza delivery man, and you smiled with disappointment, until you spotted a shaved red-head coming up behind him.

Tendo gulped when he spotted you in your open doorway, wearing woolen leggings and a t-shirt, exchanging a box of pizza for cash and smiling brightly at him over the man’s shoulder. Waving, he waited until the stranger was out of the way before he approached you.

“Hey,” he greeted, peering down at you before scanning the empty living room of your apartment over your head.

You were unsurprised to see the wariness in his eyes, bleeding into the smile he was forcing on his face. It was your first time seeing a look so fake on him and for the first time you wondered if this was really a good idea. But it was only movies. And you liked Tendo. It would be fine.

So you smiled and ushered him in with one hand, the box perched precariously on your other, and watched him shrink into himself like he always did when he came within touching distance of you until he had passed into the living room. Then he just stood there, peering around with that same suspicious look, eyes narrowed and mouth turned down at the corners.

“So, what do you think?” you asked, pretending you hadn’t seen it as you moved into the kitchen. 

“It’s nice,” he answered, letting his bag hit the floor with a thump. The rest of the apartment was silent save for the heater going, and little by little he felt himself relaxing. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble for little ol’ me, y’know.”

You giggled at the way he pointed at himself, wearing a cheesy grin as he walked into the kitchen. “Maybe not, but it’s been ages since I’ve been able to do anything like this. It’s as much for me as it is for you.” You punctuated your statement by poking him lightly in the chest, and he feigned pain.

“You wound me. And here I thought you were treating me special,” he moaned, leaning back against the counter and placing his hand over his forehead. He grinned a little hearing you giggle again, and then the pizza box hit his arm.

“I am treating you special, you goof,” you said, opening it up and letting the smell of cheese fill the kitchen. “With pizza. But I think we’d better take it into the bedroom, since that’s where we’ll be watching the movies. Just in case we fall asleep, you know,” you tacked on at the end, suddenly realizing how that might sound. Not that it meant anything, but again, you feared making him uncomfortable.

Absorbed in your thoughts, you missed the faint dusting of pink on his cheeks, clashing marvelously with his vibrant hair. You carried the box down to your bedroom with Tendo on your heels, eager to see your room. It was about what he expected from you-- a messy bed, a cluttered desk, clothes half in your laundry basket and half on the floor surrounding it. The TV sitting on your dresser was already set up with The Hills Have Eyes menu playing, volume muted. You set the box on the bed before smoothing the covers and crawling on.

Tendo hovered in the middle of your room, casting his eyes around nervously, looking for a chair or something to sit on. He definitely did not want to assume, but you patted the bed beside you, giving him a quizzical look.

“I’m not gonna bite, Tendo. Promise,” you said, and though you made it sound like a joke he could hear a line of seriousness at the core. Running his tongue over the back of his teeth, he walked slowly towards you, giving you every opportunity to change your mind, but you just looked impatient until he climbed on beside you. “Alright, now let’s get this started!”

--

Two movies in and the two of you had gotten pretty comfortable. Both of you had stretched out on the bed, but you had decided to lean up against the headboard with your pillows to support you while Tendo had opted to lay on his stomach with his head resting on his arms by your feet.

“Would you stop?” he laughed, pushing your foot away where it had been tapping incessantly at his shoulder. You were just doing it to annoy him, and you giggled at the irritated amusement in his voice.

The pizza box sat empty on the floor by the bed, but you found yourself craving something else to eat. When you hummed, Tendo looked away from the screen, rolling onto his side and propping his chin in his hand to watch you nibble at your lip. It was cute, he couldn’t lie, and the anxiety he had repressed by getting distracted by the movie came back slowly.

“What’s up?”

“I’m thinkin’ about...those chips,” you answered, and made to get up. You had to crawl over his long legs and almost fell off the bed as you gracelessly made your move, knee slipping off the small space between his leg and the edge of the mattress. Sticking your tongue out as he laughed at you, you pranced towards the door. 

“Bring my bags too, would you?” he called, pausing the movie since you had forgotten. It had just started, and you were lucky that he was nice enough to do it, especially when he heard your voice carry back down the hallway.

“Kiss my ass, Tendo.”

He laughed at that, loud enough that you could hear it from the kitchen and over the crinkling of the bags as you rifled through them. In the end, you shrugged and carried them all back down to your room, along with a few drinks. Maybe you wouldn’t have to get up again for a little while.

You shivered when you stepped back into the room. It wasn’t much warmer than the rest of the house, and now your arms and toes were cold. The heater was already set as high as it would go and hardly touched the chill, and you cursed the cheap piece of crap. 

“What, you cold?” he asked, pulling out a bag of the chips he had brought with him. The tab on a can of soda popped and he cursed as it fizzed over onto your blanket. “Shit, sorry.”

“No worries. Yeah, kinda. But the heater is already on full blast. Ugh,” you said, sitting beside him on the bed again. He was still wearing his hoodie, and up close he was warm, making you realize just how cold you were. You were just gonna have to crawl under your blankets because you would never survive the cold like that. “Wait…”

There was a tent on the screen where the movie had paused, and Tendo looked back and forth from it to you with curiosity. There was a calculating look on your face and he wasn’t sure he liked it. “Uh, what?”

There was no way he would agree to it. Way too intimate, right? But it really seemed like it’d be right up his alley, and it would be fun to build, and it would get you warm. It was the perfect idea really.

“Tendo, how do you feel about making...a pillow fort?”

The heater continued to buzz in the corner, overlaid by the slight static from the TV, while Tendo processed your question. His mouth had fallen open, brows furrowed while he stared at you in what could only be surprise, and you laughed nervously.

“Wha-- Seriously?”

“Um, you know what, nevermind. I guess it was a stupid idea. It just seemed like it might be fun and--”

He cut your babbling off with an excited wave of his arms, leaning forward into your space and in the light from the TV you could see a childlike happiness glowing in his eyes. “I’ve never made one but it sounds like fun. You know how to do it?”

Stunned by the turn of events, you nodded. “Well, sort of. Mine have always fallen down after a while though,” you admitted, standing up from the bed again. “We need chairs and books and all the blankets and pillows we can find. And the couch cushions. Probably.”

In no time flat you had everything gathered, with Tendou hovering around waiting for you to direct him. It was a pain to get everything set up, and you ended up using the bed since you didn’t have enough chairs. Moving the chairs all over the place until there was enough room inside and you could put the books down to seal the ‘walls’ was tedious, but it was worth it when Tendo crawled in to set up the cushions to seal the space beneath the bed. After padding the floor with several blankets to lay on, you stuffed the pillows from your bed in after Tendo. When you didn’t immediately crawl in after him, he poked his head out to see what you were doing.

“Well, we didn’t think this through at all, so now we gotta watch the movies on my laptop,” you said as you ejected the DVD from your player. The jingle of your computer booting up played and backlit your face in the glow, and you prayed it wasn’t going to go right into an update. It took a few minutes to start up, so you passed it to him while you plugged the power cord in and ran it into the fort. 

You could hear the clicking of the mousepad and by the time you flipped off the light and crawled in beside Tendo, the movie menu was playing. You also realized just how cramped it really was with Tendo’s lanky form inside. There was just enough space for both of you, but you were going to have to either sit up with it in your lap or you were going to have to set it to the side of you and lay on your sides.

He was tense, staring determinedly at the movie playing and trying to avoid moving too much. Or so you guessed, anyway. Anytime you so much as shifted he would jerk away before relaxing, and you were a split second away from nixing the idea. A part of you was starting to wonder if it wasn’t you that was the problem, but if it was, why had he bothered to agree?

“You’re really warm, Tendo,” you said, trying to break the ice. It was an awkward and clumsy attempt, but maybe you could help him settle down if you showed him you weren’t uncomfortable first?

But that just made him pull further away, leaning against the couch cushions. “Oh, sorry.”

It was already warm and comfortable in your little fort, a light blanket thrown over your knees and warming your toes. And with him beside you, you were actually a little more than comfortable. “No,” you said, waving your hands frantically, “no, like, it’s nice. I’m finally warm.”

It was hard to tell in the washed out light of the laptop, but Tendo’s face turned a very bright shade of pink. He tugged the neck of his hoodie up over his nose and fixed his eyes firmly on the flickering violence, annoyed that he was overwhelmed by something so simple. Why did you have to be so damn cute?

But it did the trick, even if he didn’t know that was your intention. He finally relaxed and stopped flinching every time you shifted, trying to find a comfortable position. Sitting cross legged only worked for so long and Tendo noticed you moving around after a while, when your knee knocked his for the third or fourth time.

“You alright? You’re about to bring the whole fort down,” he commented around a mouthful of chips.

“Ah, well, my back is starting to hurt sitting up, I guess. I wanna lay down,” you said, sounding whinier than you meant to, following it up with a short stretch. It alleviated the pain for a moment, until you hunched over again.

He swallowed his chips and returned his eyes to the TV screen, thinking. On one hand, he wasn’t exactly comfortable. On the other, he had no idea what you were thinking. Did you want to abandon the fort?

But you didn’t say anything, fiddling with the blanket for a few moments as you tried to work up your courage. You damn sure didn’t want to tear down your fort-- it had taken you way too long to put the stupid thing up-- and if you said the idea of cuddling up with Tendo wasn’t appealing, you would surely go to hell for lying. The underlying problem was him. What would he say if you brought up the obvious solution?

You were taking too long to answer, so Tendo prompted you, pausing the movie. “Do you want to just get back on the bed again?”

“No,” you said, and then flinched. You had answered way too quickly and that somehow made him nervous and reassured at the same time. “This is really nice I just…I-know-that-you’re-kind-of-uncomfortable-and-I-don’t-want-to-make-you-more-uncomfortable.”

Tendou stared at you, unblinking as he tried to decipher your breathlessly rushed words. After a moment he laughed, still confused, but he could see the anxiety on your face. “I-- what? All I heard was uncomfortable, I think. But you don’t make me uncomfortable.”

Your heart thumped painfully in your chest as that weight left your shoulders. He was so intuitive it was almost scary. Even still, you had to make sure. “Oh, really? You always seem like...weird around me, I guess. I was starting to think I was pushing too hard, I guess?”

“Sorry,” he said, scratching the back of his head. His elbow brushed the sheet above you and he quickly dropped it. “I’m used to people being uncomfortable around me. Guess it just turned into a habit to avoid people I don’t know. So that I don’t freak them out.”

Not entirely true, given that he enjoyed messing with people, but it was true in your* case. It took you a moment to answer, and he started to worry that he had said too much. 

“You don’t...make me uncomfortable, Tendo. You never did. You’re a weirdo but not...in a bad way,” you said, and glanced at him to gauge his reaction, worried he would take it in a negative light.

But he was smiling, eyes fixed on the paused movie and you bit your lip. He was way too attractive and you couldn’t fathom anyone who thought otherwise. Clearly they were just cowards.

“Well that’s a relief. It would make things pre-tty awkward right now if I did,” he said and bumped your shoulder. It felt like a whole planet was lifted off his shoulders with this revelation and he heaved a huge sigh. “So, if we don’t want to abandon the fort but our backs are about to crumble, what do we do?”

“Uh.” You blanched, having forgotten about that little hiccup. Your idea was embarrassing to think about let alone explain and if you hadn’t made him uncomfortable yet this was sure to.

“Uh,” he mocked, and twisted around like a snake so his face was in front of you, blocking the light from the screen. “Spit it out before we collapse.”

“Just-- um--” you stuttered, and he quickly realized whatever your idea was, it had you flustered. He was just about to start teasing when you picked up the laptop and set it to the side of you. Rolling over onto your side, you tucked your hand underneath your pillow and relaxed, feeling the pain immediately alleviate. “Now you lay down. If you want.”

Your heart was racing in your chest, waiting for him to do something. It was a long, long minute before he finally said anything, and it wasn’t what you expected. Not that you had any idea of what to expect.

“Uh, are you sure? I mean, we could just--” What was he thinking? This was exactly what he wanted and wasn’t it Semi who had said she wouldn’t ask if she didn’t want it? Did he really have to overthink everything? You were in a literal pillow fort watching scary movies with him, offering to let him cuddle up with you, and he still thought you weren’t sure.

“Well, unless you aren’t,” you said, and was that disappointment in your voice? No way.

“No no, no. I’m gonna take my hoodie off first, though. It’s way too warm in here now,” he said, backtracking quickly. Then again, maybe it was just him that was too hot. It was an actual dream come true, and he pinched himself quickly just to make sure he wasn’t asleep. 

You rolled over onto your back to watch him struggle, his arms brushing the ceiling and walls of your warm little haven as he fought the hoodie. Your eyes widened as it finally came free, seeing the colorful swirls of ink covering his arms. “Holy shit.”

“Wha--?” he said, and turned to find you staring open mouthed at his tattoos. “Oh, right, I guess you haven’t seen these before, huh?”

“Nope,” you said, sitting up and squinting to see the undefined shapes in the faint light. It was almost cute the way he held his arm out to you hesitantly, like a child offering you a drawing to examine and praise. Taking it, you traced the lines covering his smooth, warm skin, trying to figure out what they were. But the shapes were undefinable in the faint light. You could make out splashes of blue and purple, red and pink, separated by black lines or faded together to make something. Part of you wanted to ask, but there was something mysterious about not knowing. “I can’t even tell what they are but god, Tendou, I know they’re gorgeous.”

He shivered at your featherlight touches, the feel of your fingers skimming delicately over his skin, and your words caused fire to erupt in his stomach and chest. His tattoos were something he was extremely proud of, one of the few things he had that made him feel confident, and hearing you compliment them made him feel so fucking good. Chucking his jacket out into the room, he returned to your side and the two of you got comfortable.

Pressing play on the movie for the 3rd time, the two of you fell silent. With your head below his chin, it was the perfect position for him to see the screen over you. You could feel the warmth rolling off of him, only an inch of space between his chest and your back, and both of you were well aware of it.

It was nearly impossible to focus on the movie, trying to reign in the urge to just slide back a little bit and mold yourself to him. Nibbling at your lip, you rolled just a little under the pretense of stretching and bumped into him. Just your arm into his, and he didn’t move away.

“You good? Need more space? I can crawl under the bed if you want,” he said, smirking at you. He thought he knew what you were playing at, but your next words confirmed it. It was the oldest trick in the book and, even though no one had ever used it on him, he had seen it at work with Semi and Shirabu too many times.

“Just stretching. I’m still a bit cold though,” you said, facing the TV again.

Suppressing a snicker, knowing damn well that wasn’t what you were after, he offered, “I can get you another blanket, if you need it.”

The silhouette of your shoulders fell, and you couldn’t hide the sigh that accompanied it. “It’s alright, Tendo. It’s not that bad.”

You really should have seen that coming, you guessed. The swell of hope and the crash of disappointment was painful in your chest, and you tried to focus on the movie again, ignoring the tempting warmth at your back. If he wasn’t interested, he wasn’t interested. It was cool.

Which was why you jumped when a weight settled over your side, a snicker filtering behind you as he molded himself to your back. It was slow, hesitant, and you would guess he was trying to make sure you were alright with it. Warmth seeped through your t-shirt and you sighed happily, shimmying back into him out of instinct, and this time you could feel his quiet laughter in his chest.

His arms were so long that he had to fold it in front of you, hand coming to rest just underneath your chin, and when you relaxed so did he. With his chin resting atop your head now, he asked, “Better? This is what you wanted, right?”

“Shut up,” you whined, hiding your face in your hand. It was embarrassing enough without him having to tease you about it. But you supposed it wouldn’t be Tendo if he didn’t make fun of you for everything. It was so easy after that to focus on the movie, now that you had gotten what you wanted. The snacks lay forgotten near your feet, not wanting to move and mess up the delicate balance that was now between the two of you.

It was tenuous and any small movement from either of you could send it toppling in either direction, and you weren’t even sure what it depended on. You knew for sure which way you would like to see it go, but it was just as comfortable the way it was.

Silence fell again until the movie ended, which was the only reason you moved. You could probably have fallen asleep like that, but you weren’t ready yet, wanting to bask in whatever you had with Tendo for a while longer.

When you sat up to change the next movie, Tendo rolled over onto his back, watching you fiddle around with it. Sweat beaded on the back of his neck and he shifted uncomfortably. Seemed you felt the same because you turned to look at him, an apology written on your face.

“Sorry, do you mind if I go change into shorts. It’s actually too warm for these now,” you said, setting the DVD case back on the pile. You felt like you were suffocating in your thick winter leggings now, but if he wasn’t okay with that then you would suffer a little longer. At least until you melted.

“Oh thank god you said something. I was about to die in these sweatpants, I swear,” he answered, fanning his face with his hand. You were pretty sure he was just exaggerating that though. “I don’t mind if you don’t.”

“Nope,” you said, popping the ‘p’, and crawled towards the escape flap, wincing at the sound of crunching and crinkling under your knees all of a sudden. “Oops.”

“Oh those had better not have been mine,” he whined, flashing the light of his phone towards the bag. He groaned, seeing his bag of doritos crushed. He could hear you snicker outside the sheet as you walked away and growled, “Watch it. Yours are still in here, _____.”

You opened a drawer as he finally came out as well and began rifling through his bag, pulling out the pair of shorts he’d packed. When you turned around with a pair of soft shorts in your hands, you found him standing awkwardly in the middle of your room again and laughed. “I’ll go change in the bathroom. I gotta use it anyway. I’ll be right back.”

Your footsteps receded down the hall and he raced to get changed before you came back. His sweats landed on his backpack and he shrugged at himself. What did it matter, so long as they weren’t on your floor?

The sound of the sink reached his ears just as he was climbing back into the fort, frowning at his crushed chips even as he shoved a handful into his mouth. He was so gonna make you pay for a new bag, especially because you had laughed. The door creaked open and the flap shifted, and he almost choked on his chips as he realized just how short your shorts were. Were your legs always that long? And smooth? And pretty? Shit.

“How are your chip fragments?” you joked as you made yourself comfortable beside him again. Your hair fanned out behind you and you gathered it up off the base of your neck, twisting it around so that it spread out above you instead. How the fuck was the back of your neck sexy*? 

He was so screwed.

“Uh,” he replied. Smooth, Satori. Shaking his head, he tried to gather his thoughts and focus them literally anywhere else. It worked. Sort of. “Pointy. You owe me a new bag.”

You scoffed, smiling at the car full of vacationing teenagers on the laptop. “There’s like four other bags in here. Quit whining.”

But he wasn’t giving it up, throwing his bag into the corner and hopefully out of the way of your carelessness. Settling behind you like he had before, he once again left space between you, afraid now of how his body might react if he didn’t. “No, all of them suck.”

You definitely noticed the gap and wondered if he was just waiting for you to take the initiative, so you did. Before he could blink, you were once again molded to his chest, head tucked under his chin and knees folded around his. He tensed, fingers curling into a fist while he willed himself to chill.

His arm came down around you again, but you could feel how stiff he was. When you made to move forward again, to give him space, his arm locked, even pulling you back again and you grinned. With his arm now lit up properly by the light of the laptop, you realized you could see the tattoos more clearly, and began to trace the stars and fish on his arm.

“Aren’t these the spirit fish from Avatar?” you asked, skimming over the white and black koi. It was a watercolor piece, lacking the heavy lines like the ones on his other arm, and you felt him nod against the top of your head. “They’re gorgeous. Who’s your artist?”

“A friend of mine in Miyagi did those,” he answered, watching you continue to trail up his arms. Goosebumps were raising the fine hairs all over his body, your touches so gentle and intimate, your focus rapt. Higher up near his elbow was what appeared to be two jolly rogers, but they weren’t the normal ones. “Those are from a pirate manga I read in Jump,” he said before you could ask, and you smoothed your hand over them before sliding it back up near his hand.

His heart skipped a beat when your fingers curled into his palm, hesitating before you slipped them between his. He was sure you could feel his heart pounding away in his chest, unaware that you couldn’t because yours was racing fast enough that you were lightheaded. Folding his fingers down over your hand locked them together, but you didn’t try to pull away. If anything, you tried to cuddle up closer to him, dragging your hands so that they were pressed to your chest. It was the most intimate thing he had experienced in recent memory and if his heart didn’t slow down it was going to explode.

The movie wasn’t holding his interest and a new question cropped up in his mind, one he had wondered more than once before tonight and he couldn’t figure out why he thought of it now, but he latched onto it because otherwise he really thought he was going to combust. Besides, it would ease some of his insecurity if he got an answer.

“What took you so long to set this up, anyway? I kind of thought you had changed your mind for a while,” he said, staring at the screen. He was sort of taking it in, an anchor point so he didn’t get lost in his thoughts.

Your chest rumbled against his hand when you hummed, and your answer was so mundane and rational that he almost laughed. “Well a part of it was wanting to get to know you a bit before we did this. Didn’t want to invite a total stranger to spend the night, after all. And then it was just a matter of waiting for my roommates to freakin’ leave.”

“Oh, are your roommates actually gone*?” he asked in surprise. He had thought they were just out for the night and would be home-- probably not soon, given the time, but still. “Like, for the weekend?”

You hummed again in agreement, twirling the ends of your hair absently around your fingers. You were locked onto the movie, absorbed as Leatherface chased one of the characters he didn’t care about through the yard. He fell quiet, thinking you wanted to watch uninterrupted, but then you asked, “That’s alright, right? They would have just wanted to join in otherwise and they can’t stand horror movies either, so they would’ve just talked through it.”

Exactly like he was doing, he realized, and his face grew hot. Hopefully he hadn’t already annoyed you. He nodded, responding in a much quieter voice. “It’s fine. Was just surprised, I guess.”

For a while, neither of you said anything and Tendo managed to focus on the movie, feeling you jump and twitch every once in a while at scares you weren’t expecting. Unfortunately, those movements were brushing against areas that he really didn’t need them too and your shorts did nothing to diminish the curve of your ass against him or the slowly growing hard on he was getting. It didn’t help that every time he shifted even a little you would just follow him, as if he wasn’t pinned by your hand holding his.

But shit, if he didn’t move soon he was going to be screwed. The bathroom-- that would get him out of there before he embarrassed the fuck out of himself.

It was too late, though. You flinched and ground your ass back into him and he groaned before he could help it. You froze, he froze, he just really wanted to die.

“I-- Sorry. I’m really sorry,” he said, tugging at his hand to try and escape. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but the best option was probably to leave and transfer to a school in a whole different country. He could already hear your words now, an echo of so many times before, the sting of disappointment a familiar feeling around his heart.

“I’m sorry, Tendo. I just don’t see you that way.”

It was because he was a freak with a weird name and creepy eyes and-- fuck. It was high school all over again, being rejected by someone he genuinely thought liked him only to find out they were using him to get to Ushijima or pretending to as a fucking joke, only this time Ushijima wasn’t around and he had really gotten himself into it by agreeing to any of this.

But you were refusing to let his hand go, holding so tight he thought his fingers might break, saying his name until he came back down from his panicked high.

“Tendo, Tendo, calm down, please,” you were begging. You had rolled onto your back, unable to sit up because you were using both your hands to keep him from jumping up and taking the whole fort down. You could see it on his face when he finally heard you, wide vermillion eyes locking with yours while his heart continued to race.

He remained propped up on his elbow, ready to run at the first opportunity, and you almost felt bad for antagonizing him as much as you had. If you had known your teasing was going to get him this riled up, you would have tried a different tactic-- or not tried it at all. Maybe you had pushed too far too soon, and the skittish look in his pretty eyes worried you that you had ruined it.

“It’s alright, Tendo,” you said, trying to keep your voice quiet and soothing. It felt an awful lot like you were dealing with a wary animal-- like a coyote or a fox. When the insistent tension in his arm faded is when you relaxed your death grip on his fingers. 

The sound of the movie was too loud in the unnatural silence between you, and you rolled over to turn it down. When it was only a background buzz, you turned back to him. He was still staring at you without blinking, his eyes devoid of the panic from earlier but now they were eerily blank.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, deadpan. He flinched when you took his hand again, forehead scrunching in confusion. “I don’t understand. There’s no way you-- What are you doing?”

It was your turn to be confused, pursing your lips at him. He sounded so lost-- and wary again-- like a child. For the first time, you wondered what his childhood had actually been like. He talked an awful lot about Ushiwaka and Semi, and the volleyball club in general, but you heard nothing outside of that. It made you suspicious now.

“What am I doing?” you parroted, finally sitting up. Your joined hands fell into your lap and you stared down at them, petting the back of his hand with your free one. “Do you not want me to?”

His words were stuck in his throat, trapped by the lump there, and he swallowed thickly. His mouth felt like cotton, and he shook his head, croaking out, “It isn’t that. I just don’t understand why.”

“Why what?” you asked, gentle amusement in your voice. There was no teasing, no malicious undertones that he could hear, like you were waiting to spring the final part of the joke on him. And he was listening for it. After years of dealing with it, he had learned to recognize it in people’s words and on their faces. The way their lips would curl and their eyes would narrow just before cruelty would spew from their mouths, he knew the tells and you--

Had none.

There was nothing but open curiosity and nervousness-- and hope. A lot of hope swirled in your eyes and he swallowed again. He was just going to disappoint you. If not tonight then tomorrow, if not tomorrow then next week. It was going to happen--

“Why do you like me? How do you like me? I’m-- weird. And you’re--” He gestured frantically up and down at all of you. You weren’t anything he was-- a freak. With freaky eyes and a freaky name and a freaky personality.

“I-- um,” you said, and you couldn’t help but smile. There was clearly a lot of baggage with him, and his questions made that obvious. It was likely too much to unpack tonight, especially when you were still only just getting to know each other. Reassurance was what he needed, and that was something you could offer on the spot. “You’re funny...and sweet and...very good looking. Your eyes are so pretty. Um, there’s also the fact that you’re the only person who would watch these movies with me, which earns you a lot of points, in my opinion,” you said, tapping your lips as you stared up at the ceiling.

Your face was on fire as you listed things off the top of your head, your throat tight with anxiety as you wondered what he would say in response. They were all surface level things for now, but you knew underneath the armor that there was a lot more to Tendo, and you hoped you had a chance to discover it.

He groaned low in his throat, not from disgust but from a deep seated need to believe you meant those things. His forehead met your shoulder, his fingers squeezing yours. He didn’t fight it when you eased back down, following after you without a word, leaving his face hidden in your neck. He was still trying to gather his thoughts and calm his overworked heart. It would be so easy to reject you and be on his way, to return home and beat himself up for letting himself get too close and too comfortable with you when he knew nothing would come of it.

Except something had come of it and he wasn’t sure what to do now. Semi and Ushijima always told him he was too closed off and that someone was going to come around who actually liked him and his ‘weird ass’ and that he was going to lose that chance because of some stupid high school assholes. Was he though? He wanted to believe you, wanted to trust you, and slowly he relaxed, his stress leaving him in a long, tired exhale.

“You mean it?” he whispered against your neck, and you could feel his lashes tickle your skin when he blinked. His arm was heavy where his hand rested on your stomach, fingers intertwined with yours, and you squeezed his hand as tight as you could.

“I do. I like you and really want a chance to get to know you better,” you whispered back, and it suddenly felt like no one existed but the two of you, protected from everything in the world outside by a few sheets and each other's warmth. There would be things to discuss and hiccups to overcome, but you could worry about those tomorrow. In that moment, all you wanted was to prove to Tendo you wanted him.

Maybe it was your words, whispered softly into the dark, or your hand gripping his for dear life, or the way you let him cling to you like a lifeline, or maybe it was a combination, but when he pulled back from his hiding place and found you staring at him, he slotted his lips against yours without thinking. Your lips parted almost immediately, free hand sliding out from between your bodies to tangle in the close cropped hair at the nape of his neck and you used it to pull yourself closer. 

When your tongue poked out to glide across the seam of his lips, he let you in on a breath, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. His eyes were squeezed shut tight as your tongue met his, praying that what was happening wasn’t a dream, and he wasn’t expecting it when you gasped and pulled away all of a sudden.

His eyes popped open and he stared down at you with panic. “What? Did I do something wrong?”

“I-- forgot you have a tongue ring,” you said, and the laughed. “Fuck, that’s hot.”

He blinked like an owl, eyes wide as he processed your words. It wasn’t something that he had ever expected to hear in his life, let alone from the girl he was half-making out with in a freakin’ pillow fort. He suddenly wondered if his life had turned into a Shounen Jump manga.

“Well, so are you,” he said, and leaned in for another kiss.

It was kind of hot to see him confident and you felt heat pool in your stomach, starting to bleed further down as his tongue slipped into your mouth again. He tasted like the root beer he had been drinking all night, and you couldn’t resist toying with the piercing, swirling your tongue around it and listening to him moan against your mouth. 

Your shirt had ridden up your stomach as you moved around, trying to get closer to him, and neither of you realized it until Tendo’s hand smoothed over your skin. He froze mid-kiss, waiting for your reaction, and was unsurprised when your hand grabbed his.

What he didn’t expect was for you to guide it upwards, letting go when you hit your ribs to cup his cheek. Pulling back just enough that he could speak against your lips, he asked, “Are you sure?”

“Frankly, Tendo,” you said, and kissed him again before you continued, “I haven’t wanted anyone this bad in forever. Even if we wake up tomorrow and change our minds, I am fucking sure right now.”

He groaned, letting his hand hike your shirt up a little higher until his hand cupped under your breast. He wasn’t sure when you had taken your bra off, or maybe you hadn’t been wearing one the whole time, but there was nothing impeding his skin from caressing yours. Your breast was so soft in his hand, topped by a pretty pink nipple that he couldn’t resist pinching. You mewled underneath him, pulling your shirt up to uncover your other breast and he moved to that one, doing the same and feeling your nipple harden at his touch.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he rasped, gazing down the length of your body. Your thighs were clenched, and his hand migrated lower, fingertips skimming over your skin.

The heat that was pooling earlier erupted when they met the waistband of your shorts, but he paused, looking unsure again.

“Tendo, I’ll show you how much I want this,” you whispered and grabbed his hand. He was still hesitant, looking at your face as you slid his hand into your panties, and his eyes widened.

“You’re so wet,” he groaned, his fingers gliding over your soaked lips, spreading your slick all over them. His fingers quickly found your clit, circling it and you squeezed his hand between your thighs, hips jerking. “All because of me? I’m flattered.”

Teasing at your soaked opening, he waited for you to balk but you only twitched, panting against his lips before he sunk one finger in, your walls parting easily. You moaned and he swallowed it in a kiss, his tongue filling your mouth again. It wasn’t long before he was fitting a second finger, crooking them up and grazing your sweet spot, his thumb taking over massaging your clit as he pumped them inside you. Your arousal was already high enough that you could feel your orgasm coming on, and you pulled away to announce it.

“T-Tendo, gonna--” You gasped when he forced them in deeper, a mischievous smirk on his face as he prodded your cervix. “How-- fuck, your fingers are so long,” you whined, toes curling.

“Think you can take one more?” he asked, already fitting the tip of a third finger in. But it was only when you nodded, tears pricking the corners of your eyes that he slipped it in. Your teeth dug into your lip before they parted in a soundless cry.

The coil snapped on the first thrust and he groaned, drinking in your face as he tipped you over the edge. No one had ever cum so prettily for him before and he wanted to see it again. 

But only if you wanted it. His cock throbbed painfully in his shorts when he pulled his fingers from your twitching hole, feeling you shudder against him. Examining his glistening fingers in the screen light, he slid one experimentally into his mouth and moaned. “You taste so good, princess.”

You gasped at the pet name, a warmth unrelated to the one between your legs blooming in your chest. He said it was such reverence that you flushed, hoping he’d say it again at some point. Never had anyone called you that before, at least in that context.

When he laid back down beside you, his erection brushed against your leg and he stifled a groan. He was wearing boxers but the friction against his cock was still a pleasurable sensation. Not as much as your hand might be--

Speaking of hands, he nearly jumped out of his skin when you cupped him, squeezing and kneading up the length of him confined in his clothes. A shaky breath ripped out of him, the result of him barely containing a moan, and his long fingers wrapped around your wrist to stop you.

“That’s alright, _____. You don’t have to--” But you weren’t listening and the pressure felt too good. His head fell back, eyes fluttering closed, content to let you literally massage his dick until you started tugging at his shorts. He stopped you more insistently then, pulling your hand away. “Wait a second. Let me get ‘em off since you’re so eager, princess.”

He pulled his shirt over his head first, because it was getting way too hot in there anyway, and then kicked his shorts and boxers off into the dark corner. His cock bobbed against his stomach as he rolled onto his side again, leaking precum already. 

Your hand was soft against his stomach, roaming over the hard planes of his abs and down further, until it wrapped lightly around his head.

And froze.

“What the-- Tendo, what are those?” you asked in a high pitched, startled tone. Before he could answer, you let go and rolled onto your back, exposing him to the light and you thought for sure you had died and gone to heaven. 

It wasn’t just his arms that were covered in ink. His shoulders, chest, and sides were all covered in it as well, swirls and splashes of color interrupted by splotches of black or white or skin. You could hardly make out what the images were in the flickering, inconsistent light, but you recognized flowers and circles, and on his pec you were pretty sure there was a scene of a lake bathed in moonlight. And as your eyes followed the path of colors down, you landed on the thing that had startled you in the first place.

“Those are--” you breathed, taking his cock into your hand again. There was a ball at the tip, covered in precum, and you knew if you traced down, you would find another just below the crown. Further down on his shaft were five horizontal barbells in a row, and you recognized it as a Jacob’s Ladder. “Fuck me.”

“Gladly,” Tendo quipped and pounced. He settled between your legs and tugged your shorts down over your hips, and you had to hold your legs up to let him pull them the rest of the way off. He was too tall to sit straight up without brushing his head against the ceiling, but he braced back on his arms when you grabbed his shaft again. He groaned when you fondled the ball below his crown, shuddering at the intense pleasure. It was one of the major reasons he’d gotten it- to enhance the sensations. But the feel of your fingers gliding over his tip, gathering the precum and nudging the ball was something else entirely. “Holy shit, that feels amazing.”

His voice sent shivers through you, deep and raspy and way too needy. But you were unsure of what would hurt him, so you kept your touches light, feeling his thighs tense under yours, his fingers squeezing your calves as he let you explore. Before long though, he was pulling your hand away, pinning it down at your side. “Can’t keep that up, princess. I need more, if you’re alright with it,” he said, letting his cock settle against your cunt. 

The piercings were warm and pronounced against your folds, and you shuddered when the ball under his head grazed your clit. The thought of them inside you, rubbing all along your walls as he fucked you was too much and you could feel yourself growing wetter, your pussy drooling for it.

“Yes, Tendo, please. I want it, I want to feel them inside me,” you begged, rocking your hips. The stimulation was mind blowing and your walls clenched, empty and needy for him to fill you up. And he would, his cock was huge-- he still had room for more piercings below the ones he had. You had no doubt you would be stretching to take him and you keened in the back of your throat.

“I want you to call me Satori, princess. And I need you to let me know if it’s uncomfortable,” he said, pressing the tip of his cock into your sopping hole. “Sometimes they make it hurt, but you’re so fucking wet I don’t think it will. You really like these, huh?”

You were really just answering his question as you said yes, but a stream of them fell out of your mouth as he pushed the rest of his cock inside you, encouraging him to continue. The stretch was so good, your walls splitting easily for him, and you could feel every ball just like you had imagined grazing against your walls. The ball at his slit rested snugly against your cervix, and you didn’t even realize you were screaming as you came, hips jerking in his hands as he let you ride it out.

He was staring at you with what could only be awe, his mouth slack and eyes wide with surprise. “Holy fuck, princess, did you just cum?”

Your breaths were coming in pants as your mind spun, trying to come down from the unexpected high. It came on so suddenly you had no time to prepare, and tears slid down your cheeks. “F-Feels so good,” you whispered, fingers digging into the blanket beneath you. “Satori, oh my god.”

“Are you alright? We can stop--” he said, but you shook your head frantically, locking your ankles around his back, and he laughed under his breath. You sure were something else. He knew for a fact no one had ever come just from him sliding into them and a swell of pride filled his chest. “No? Alright, whatever you want, princess. Can I move?”

This time you nodded and he was slow as he pulled back, making sure you were okay. You were so tight around him from your orgasm, your walls fluttering with overstimulation, but your back arched when he stuffed himself back in, a breathy moan slipping out of you. Hiking your legs higher up on his hips, he bent over you, gathering your hands and pinning them above your head, lacing his fingers with yours. His lips met yours as he thrust into you slowly, grinding deep and stifling a moan. Once again you were playing with his tongue ring, flicking it as you suckled on his tongue. The fort-- and probably the room-- was filled with the wet slap of his hips on yours every time he drove his cock into you, drowning out the low buzz of the forgotten movie still playing. He was being careful, waiting for you to stop being so sensitive, and he knew you were ready when you arched into his chest and pulled away.

“So good, Satori,” you murmured against his lips, hips rising to meet his. Your eyes were glazed and fucked out, tears still flowing and you could already feel the start of another orgasm, but he was moving too slow. The drag and pull of his piercings had almost all of your attention, the ball at his tip constantly tapping your cervix, making your toes curl with every thrust. “You’re so big, and those-- fuck-- piercings feel so good inside me. I can feel them all everywhere.”

He snickered darkly at that and kissed your cheek. “You wanna feel even better, kitten?” he whispered into your ear, nipping the shell. He could feel you nod against his cheek, nails digging into his hands where he kept them pinned above your head, and then he was letting them go and pulling out of you. You whined, staring up at him in dismay, but he already had your thighs in his hands, prodding you to roll over. “Trust me, pretty girl. On your stomach, just like that.”

It was a bit difficult to get comfortable, but he grabbed a pillow and jammed it beneath your hips before settling with his legs outside of yours. And when you shook your ass, begging him to hurry up, he couldn’t deny you, not when he wanted to be back inside your tight heat so badly.

“Holyshitholyshitholyshit,” you whined, high-pitched and breathless as he finally filled you again. His thighs trembled as he forced himself not to just stuff himself into you, you were so tight. And the way you were crying and shuddering beneath him wasn’t helping, especially when you gasped his given name like a prayer. “*Satori, oh my god.”

If you thought those piercings felt good before, you were in heaven now. Everyone of them dragged slowly over the front wall of your cunt, grinding into your sweet spot and you had to bite the pillow to keep from outright screaming. And he was so, so, so big inside you, but with your legs trapped between his there was nothing you could do but take him. Against your will, your legs kicked, hitting him in the back as you wailed into the pillow, tears streaming down your cheeks in an endless flood. 

He snarled into your ear as he planted his elbows beside your head, plastering himself to your back. “You are so fucking tight, princess. How do those piercings feel now?”

“So good so good so good,” you babbled, circling your hips back on his dick to get any friction you could. The orgasm that had been building came back ten fold just from him hilting inside of you and you knew that if he fucked you like this you would be cumming in seconds. “‘Tori, please move, please please please.”

Your needy begging made his cock twitch and you whimpered as he slowly pulled out of you and pushed back in, intentionally slow to let you feel everything. The pleasure was ebbing and flowing, building and falling because he wasn’t moving fast enough, but you couldn’t bring yourself to ask him to go faster, not when you could feel him so clearly. Every time he bottomed out, he made sure to grind down into you, nudging your cervix with the tip of his cock so he could feel you clench suddenly around him. It never failed to make him moan, your slick walls gripping him so tightly as he dragged himself back out. He wanted to make your pussy his new home and barring that he was going to fuck the shape of his cock into you.

“Tell me what you need to make you cum, princess,” he whispered into your ear. He knew what he needed, but he was still learning what would make you feel good. 

Releasing the pillow from your teeth, the first thing you did was moan out his name again as he buried himself inside you again. You were so close to cumming, your clit throbbing with need and if he even brushed it you were going to be gushing all over him. You gasped as he thrust a little harder than before.

“If you don’t answer me I’ll just keep going like this, kitten. I can go for hours, if you want,” he whispered, warm against your ear. That made you twitch underneath him, and he chuckled. “You like the sound of that? We’ll try it another time. Right now, I need you to tell me where you want me to cum and how I can make you cum, okay?”

His words were dark and sweet and coaxing, and you were sure you had never whined so much in your whole life. “Touch me, please, Satori. I wanna cum all over your cock and pretty piercings while you cum in me, oh fuck.”

Bracing himself on his elbow, he forced his hand beneath your stomach, aided by you lifting your hips, and you whimpered when he finally, finally brushed your clit. It was all it took and you had to bite the pillow again as you creamed all over his cock, whiting out and screaming into it as you shuddered and jerked. He eased you through it, leaving his cock buried inside you while he fondled your clit, listening to you whimper and moan. It was a good thing you had hidden your face because you would surely have woken the whole complex up otherwise. 

He groaned into your ear as you massaged his cock, so tight that you launched him into his own orgasm, cumming inside you as you had asked. He remained still inside of you even after you had relaxed, leaving small kisses all over your hair before he leaned down to rest his head on the pillow. He had fucked you so slowly that he hadn’t broken a sweat, and yet he was still out of breath and panting. His head swam for several more minutes, until you shifted beneath him. But you didn’t move like you wanted him to get off.

Instead, you turned to look at him, a lazy, blissed out grin on your face and said, “Holy shit, that was so amazing. I’ve never cum so many times.”

“So were you. I’ve never made someone cum so many times,” he admitted, and replayed the way you came just because he had filled you. That was something he was unlikely to ever forget. He brushed some hair out of your face before leaning in to kiss you. It was slow and gentle, belying how tired the two of you now were, and he could see you were ready to fall asleep. “Gonna pull out of you now, princess. Need you to stay nice and relaxed, okay?”

You nodded, your eyes closing and winced as he slid from your ruined hole. A stream of cum followed after and he took a moment to appreciate it, allowing a smirk to steal across his face. There was no doubt you were his now, at least for a little while, and he committed it all to memory before gently gripping your shoulders. “We should really get cleaned up, then we can go to sleep.”

You grumbled cutely but let him help you up, the both of you stumbling blindly to the bathroom. Sleepiness was a thick fog, and you got cleaned up as quickly as possible before returning to the room. The two of you stood in the doorway, looking at the mess of nonsense covering the bed, and then you looked at Tendou.

“Let’s just sleep in there,” you suggested, taking him by the hand. He let you lead him over, watching the way your ass swayed as you crawled into the fort for hopefully the final time that night. In the few minutes it had taken him to get in after you, you had already pulled a blanket over your legs and were setting up the next movie to play. Not that you would be watching it, but he understood it was the principle of the thing. This was a movie marathon and it just wouldn’t do to fall asleep without being in the middle of one.

Once he’d gotten comfortable behind you, you rolled over and splayed out across his chest, startling him. He had expected to curl himself around your back while you went to sleep, but now you were tracing what lines you could see on his chest in the thin light. His hand rested on your waist, the other tucked behind his head, and he closed his eyes, comfortable with your warmth and weight in his arms.

“Satori,” you murmured, your hand falling flat right over the picture of the lake. “I really do like you.”

He laughed at that, and you could feel it rumble in your ear, deep in his chest. He was clearly as tired as you were, but you needed to say it. There was something in your half asleep brain that would not stop telling you to say it, and you were in no position to fight it.

“I figured as much, princess. Three orgasms are hard to fake, especially around a dick as big as mine,” he answered, and you blanched for a moment before erupting into laughter. He watched you through narrow eyes, fondness bubbling in his chest, until you settled back down against him. “You’re absolutely gorgeous, you know that?”

“So’re you,” you murmured. The nagging had stopped now that you had said what you needed too, and you were falling asleep quickly. “Don’t be gone when I wake up tomorrow, okay?”

“It already is tomorrow, and I’ll be here. There’s nowhere else I wanna be anyway,” he answered, letting his eyes close as well. With your comfortable weight on his chest and your even breathing mixing with the buzzing of the movie in the background in his ears, he drifted to sleep in no time, for once not worrying about what tomorrow would bring.

⇥ masterlist 

⇥ taglist: @visaintes​, @kunimwuah​

#tendo x reader #tendou x reader #tendo satori x reader #satori tendo x reader #tendou satori x reader #satori tendou x reader #haikyuu x reader #.monster

[hansolmates]

shiver | 09

banner by the lovely @dnrequests​

summary; jungkook changed since he moved out of his small town church community and attended college. when he returns for a christmas mass, you suddenly crave a taste of his fun and carefree life. in exchange, jungkook craves a taste of you pairing; bad boy!jungkook x church girl!reader genre/warnings; childhood friends to lovers, coercion, brief childhood friends to enemies, fwb!au, catholic guilt, jungkook is a meanie who eventually turns into a soft tsundere, bicuriosity, sexual exploration, virgin!oc, eventual smut—in this installment, I KNOW it does not take 2 hours to reach level 9 blond esp on asian hair, hair aficionados pls don’t sue me w/c; 879 a/n; last installment before everything comes into place! this pairing is just so delightfully awkward and mildly uncomfortable sometimes, sometimes i try to imagine this pairing in their childhood bumbling around and it still reflects in their adulthood. next part will be tomorrow, and it will be 😳 enjoy! [shiver masterpost]

“They keep saying that there’s this grand plan in the world, and we’re all just itty-bitty fragments of it.” You kick petulantly at the snow that hasn’t been shoveled yet, “small, minor, and insignificant.”

“What do you mean,” Jungkook mumbles, his words warm and grey with frost when he exhales in the cold day.

“I mean that we’re servants to this grand plan,” you say plainly, as if defeated, “and I’m trying to wrap my head around why that doesn’t seem so appealing now.” 

Jungkook never realized how smart you really are. Sure, his parents have told him stories about how you would be able to crunch numbers and create full potluck dinners in a matter of hours, or how you would be able to stop the loudest of babies in the cry room with your softest blanket and a bedtime story. 

You’ve always been questioning, moreto yourself than anything. Jungkook always wondered where the energy went, the hours upon hours of dedication to the deity. Where does this spent exhaustion lead to, is he building up credit to save himself or to serve? 

Your presence is muted, but strong. Your white puffy jacket helps you meld between the snowflakes, your face barely popping out with your scarf wrapped tightly around your neck. The beanie you’re wearing has an oversized white pom-pom, bouncing like a cotton-tailed rabbit as  you walk down the street. 

“Yeah, that scared me a lot,” Jungkook doesn’t know how to add anything articulate, so he settles for being honest, “when I first came to school here, I kinda went wild.” 

“Kinda?” 

“Okay, majorly,” Jungkook sulks, kicking a random stone on the pavement, “fucked around, painted on the walls, did drugs.” 

“You still do those things.”

“Only fucking around with you, like I promised,” Jungkook replies pointedly, “and now I only paint on walls I’m paid to do. And I stopped trying drugs after Easter of freshman year.” 

“Oddly specific,” you put a finger on your lips, “have you ever tried acid?” 

He guaffs, “Do you even know what acid’s like?” 

“Sounds bad. I mean it’s literally called acid.” 

The two of you stop at an intersection. There’s a bunch of stores on both ends of the street. The roads seem to narrow, and you move away from Jungkook and jab your finger in a vague direction, “I have to do something over there,” you say. 

Jungkook raises an eyebrow, “Okay. I’ll wait for you,” he gestures to the bags in his hands. Secondhand textbooks that the two of you went to pick up together. You didn’t plan to meet prior, however happenstance had you two meeting eyes in the corner of the tiny rental store. 

“You don’t have to, we didn’t come together anyway.” 

“You’re being secretive,” Jungkook peeks over to the inconspicuous street, unsure of what you’re planning to do. “Are you going to do something impulsive?” 

“Maybe.” 

“Okay,” he shrugs, “I’ll go do something impulsive too. Meet you here in two hours?” 

You make a face as Jungkook whips the other way, carrying your bags over his shoulder as he crosses the street. A funny guy, you think, as you walk to your intended way. Getting to know Jeon Jungkook as an adult is a whole different ball game. 

Maybe him breaking your heart all those weeks ago was a good thing. A reset. You’re able to see Jungkook for more than the childhood love you held near and dear to your heart. Although that part of yourself might never disappear because first loves are flawed to be unforgettable, it’s nice to constantly be surprised by Jungkook’s mannerisms as a young man. 

When you finally find the shop you enter as quietly as possible, minding the concentration that steeps the room. 

“Jamais Vu Tattoo, can I help you?” you can’t help but smile at the receptionist for unintentionally making a half-rhyme. 

“Hi, I have an appointment with Yoongi?” 

“Your hair!” 

“You like it?” 

Feeling grabby, you get on your tippy toes to admire the freshly dyed locks. Your fingers weave between the white-gold strands, amazed at the fact it only took two hours for it to lift. The toner didn’t pull all the brassiness, however you quite like the dark roots, making him look a little more rugged. You didn’t know that this type of color could be possible in such little time, but then again Jungkook never ceases to surprise you. 

“Your hair’s still a little crunchy,” you muse, feeling a bit of crispy ends despite the trim he also received. 

Jungkook frowns, “It’ll be fine.” 

“I have a hair mask at home, swing by so you can borrow it.” 

“Don’t need a hair mask,” he grumbles, “I have my own.” 

You giggle, scrunching your nose and hiding your nose in your scarf. One thing you used to admire about Jungkook is his attention to cleanliness. In high school, most boys were gross and wouldn’t bother to care for the little things—laundry, a skincare routine, a work ethic. Jungkook makes sure his hair is kempt and his skin clear. 

“It’s cute,” you declare, “and pretty."

“I dyed my hair blond because it’s sexy, not cute,” Jungkook scrunches his brows together. 

“Cute,” you repeat, walking ahead of him and into the street.

#btsguild #btsghostie #btswritingcafe #kwritersworldnet #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #bts fic #bts x reader

[miekasa]

winter break/skiing au with eren

↯ pairing: eren jaeger x (fem) reader

↯ genres and warnings: modern au (college), fluff, eren is an idiot but we all knew that, and yes i do think he’d probably be a good snowboarder or athlete in general tbh

↯ word count: 2.7k lol and it’s not even written out like a fic

↯ notes: this is based off of a request i got for meeting eren at a ski lodge. heads up i know next to nothing about skiing or any related sport, so bear with me on this. also this formatting is... headcanonish but also fic like?? in an alternate timeline, i could write this out as a fic, but my lack of knowledge about the subject + me wanting to try this format out resulted in this!

If he’s being completely honest, Eren wasn’t ecstatic to be going on this skiing trip with his friends in the first place, but he didn’t have much choice, seeing as he didn’t want to be the only one left behind for winter break.

Not to mention he’s a shit skier. He’s fine with a snowboard, so he wouldn’t be stuck on the bunny hills for a week, but that didn’t mean he was happy about it. After all, he was pushing to go somewhere warm for break. You know, since it was already freezing cold at home.

Nevertheless, he sucks it up for the sake of his friends’ happiness (and because he was severely outnumbered. Also because Armin had never been skiing and Eren really wanted to record him falling face first into the snow at some point).

As expected, it’s fucking freezing by the time they make it to the lodge, but at least Jean—resident organizer of this trip—had gotten them a pretty nice cabin with central heating, and a fireplace. It’s more of a house that they’re renting really, with enough rooms for the six of them.

Unfortunately the rooms were not soundproof so he was subject to hearing Jean and Connie staying up until the crack of dawn, and Mikasa throwing pillows at Sasha telling her to shut the fuck up. But at least he got to room with Armin, so it wasn’t all bad. 

Eren spends the first day just chilling around, still warming up to the idea of the trip (and warming up physically, because fuck is it cold here). The lodge itself has main, communal buildings with indoor activities—a game room, indoor pools, hot tubs, a buffet, the whole nine yards—that he spends time exploring.

He’s heading down to the indoor pool with Armin and Jean in tow, the rest of his friends opting to head upstairs for dinner first after their day of skiing; and that’s where he sees you. And, not to sound like a lovestruck idiot, but Eren thinks you might be the prettiest person he’s ever seen in his life.

In a cliche moment, he catches you as your head reemerges from out of the water, face dripping wet with pool water as you tread in your spot. Eren looks stupid—big, green eyes wide as hell and a little bit of a gap between his lips.

Jean has to smack him upside the head to get him walking again, mumbling about how Eren looks like the literal heart eyes emoji to which Eren simply pushes the taller boy into the water.

He looks back to spot you again (in a non-creepy manner of course), when a voice calls out your name—he’s presuming, by the way your turn your head.

“You’ll turn into a prune if you stay in any longer,” a short man with dark hair calls to you, a towel around his shoulder his mostly dry body, save for his swimming shorts that are still damp, “Come on, I don’t want get the shit end of the stick at the buffet.”

The short man’s words seem to make you chuckle, and a little reluctantly, you swim to the edge of the pool, taking his hand to get out of the water. Eren frowns a bit watching the interaction. You and the short man seem close—there go his chances of… well, he’s not sure exactly… uh… talking to you, maybe?

Whatever it was, you might already have a boyfriend, and from the way the rest of, who Eren is again presuming to be, your friends walk with you to the exit, it doesn’t seem like he’d ever find you alone again.

Oh well. He sighs, trying not to think much of it, and enjoy his time in the pool. (He fucking doesn’t because Jean gets his revenge and pushes him in the deep and even Armin his him with a pool noodle. Traitor).

Day two he’s finally going to to the slopes. On his way up in the lift, he can see Sasha and Connie stumbling down the hill while Jean laughs behind them, and Eren only shakes his head.

Yeah, maybe they shouldn’t have taken Sasha, Connie, and Armin with them on the advanced hills, but it was so much more fun this way. Although, to his credit, Armin was catching on quickly (no thanks to Eren or Jean; that was all Mikasa’s teachings).

Eren lets Mikasa work her magic with Armin. He straps on his helmet and goggles, and heads down first. It’s been a while since he’s snowboarded, but he’s still pretty damn good if he does say so himself. He even tries out a few old tricks and—not to brag—but sticks his landing every time.

Halfway down the slope, he can feel someone else boarding beside him—and he doesn’t think much of it, until they replicate his previous flip, landing a just a little in front of him.

Eren can’t see the person through their goggles, but from the way they look back at him before pushing forward, he can tell that they wanted a challenge. And who is Eren to turn down a little friendly competition?

The descent continues on with Eren and his mystery partner not-so-subtly flexing their own skills. Eren copies their flips and turns, and is amazed as he watches them copy his in return. 

He decides to kick it up a notch, swerving over to a small snow rap, to use the height it gives him to pull off his signature move—yes it’s called the Jaegerbomb, yes he did come up with it when he was eleven, and no he doesn’t regret because it’s still sick as fuck, shutup Zeke.

He sticks his landing, perfectly timed with the end of the slope, pushing his board forward to completely stop himself. He turns around, lifting his goggles, to give his copycat a smug look, when, to his surprise, he sees them pulling off something almost equally as impressive, and probably more complex before they land. 

Eren’s got the same stupid, starstruck look on his face as he did in the pool, as he watching their momentum come to a stop a little ways downhill from him, because, fuck if that wasn’t the coolest thing he’s ever seen.

Immediately, they’re surrounded by two other bodies, both of which sing their praises, probably for that last move. Eren knows he would. It’s only after your goggles are pushed up over your helmet and your turn around that Eren realizes its you! The girl from the pool.

If he was awestruck before, it’s nothing compared how he’s feeling now. No way you were the same person! But, he has to admit, if we were gonna get crushed by anybody on the slopes, he’s glad it was a pretty girl.

To his surprise, you make your way over to him after unbuckling from your board, and Eren has to quickly shake the stupid look off of his face.

“I guess I lost our race back there,” you say with a smile, cloudy air falling from your lips from the cold, “But I just wanted to tell you that your last flip was really cool! It must have taken you forever to master that.”

For the first time since arriving, Eren’s glad it’s cold as shit, because now at least he has a coverup for the redness creeping onto his cheeks. With a nervous chuckle, he finally responds, “Yeah, I’ve, uh, kinda been working on it since I was eleven.”

“Well it definitely payed off, I’ve never seen anything like it,” you cheer, and Eren is really considering passing out right now, but that would not be cool. Very uncool. So he doesn’t. “Have you been boarding that long?”

“Yeah! I mean, well, I’m only 21, so I guess not that long,” Eren says with a nervous chuckle, “Well—uh, I guess, like, ten years is a long time, but I—I used to snowboard more often when I was little with my family, then, um, you know college got in the way in stuff… haha… yeah.”

Okay, fine, Eren has never been the smoothest guy in the world, but he’s usually not this awkward either. But can you really blame him?—between your looks, and your skills, and the fact that you actually came over to initiate and carry out a conversation with him, he was a goner from the start.

“I’m Eren, by the way,” he continues, hoping to cover up his awkward stuttering, “And, uh, you must have been doing this for a while too? Your last move was sick, I’ve never seen anything like it!”

“(Y/N),” you respond with a smile. Luckily for him, you don’t seem completely turned off by his awkward demeanor, still as bubbly as ever. “Not really… well, kind of? Maybe a few years at this point, but my teacher’s been a real hardass, so I learned to pick up on things pretty quick unless I wanted to get turned into a human snowball,” you tell him, turning your shoulder a bit to point back at your friends, “If you think what I did was good, you gotta see Levi—he’s the short one yelling at the one with the pigtails. He taught me everything I know.”

Eren recognizes Levi as the shorter man who helped you out of the pool yesterday. He deflates a little—he’d kind of forgotten about him, and he isn’t too happy to be reminded of him again.

“Oh, I see,” Eren nods, glancing over at Levi once more, “He must be a pretty good teacher.”

“When he’s not throwing snowballs as a learning tool, yeah he is,” you laugh, “Anyways, I actually wanted to ask if you wanted to go at it again sometime. I don’t know how long you’re, uh, staying or anything, but racing with you was fun. Even if you did get a bit of a head start.”

“I’m here for the week, actually,” Eren’s eyes practically shine at the hint of competitiveness in your voice. He loves to be challenged, after all. “But I don’t mind giving it a go right now, if you’re going up again?”

Eren has to stop himself from grinning like an idiot when you accept his invitation. He thinks he’s finally in the clear when he hears the short man—Levi—call out your name again.

To his surprise, you beckon Eren along with you, and you introduce him to Levi formally. Levi has to look up to look at Eren, but Eren’s the one who shrinks under his gaze; an embarrassed flush creeping up his neck. Damn, your teacher (friend, too? not boyfriend, apparently, though?) is intimidating as hell, how on Earth do you take lessons from him without buckling in fear??

You point to your other friends—Isabel and Farlan—who are standing a little further away. The former of whom is attempting to make a snow angel while the blonde is enthusiastically recording and taking pictures of the events.

After introducing the two, you ask Levi if he wants to up the hill with the both you again (and no, Eren doesn’t pout when you extend the offer to him—he’s really working on this keeping his feelings in check and being a rational thinker and all that and if you ask him it’s paying off), to which Levi declines (thank god).

Not even because Eren would be bummed if you didn’t get that he wanted to spend some more time alone with you not just to snowboard, but also because he knows he’d fall flat on his face in front of Levi, and then he’d probably have to hide in shame for the rest of his trip.

“Looks like it’s just us then,” you smile at him, “Okay, we can head back up—I’m just gonna ask Isabel to trade gloves with me real quick, yeah? And steal a heat pack from her.”

Eren doesn’t know if he should follow you over to Isabel, so he kind of shuffles around where he’s standing, a few feet next to Levi. (And damn, is it just Eren or is it suddenly 50 degrees colder next to this man).

Eren’s avoiding eye contact and small talk—and subsequently avoiding any bubbling feelings or irrational false suspicions about Levi. Also, he sucks at small talk.

It’s Levi who lets out an exasperated sigh first, not even bothering to turn to face Eren before bluntly saying, “She’s single.”

Eren’s eyes go wide and he’s sputtering in embarrassment—also because Levi said it so loudly, what if you heard??—but he’s cut off again before he can even speak: “Don’t even try it, Farlan and I saw you drooling over her at the pool, too.”

Well, now Eren’s certain that the blush on his face and neck are not from the cold, but from his complete and utter humiliation. “Well, I, uh, I didn’t mean to—”

“You don’t seem to be too great at this, so I’ll take pity on you and tell you she likes you, too. Or likes you enough, at least,” Levi continues.

“I—she does?” Eren blurts. Okay, now he’s probably being too loud.

“She talked to you didn’t she,” Levi says, but the question comes out as more of a deadpan observation, “Look if she asks you about anything while you’re up there—or better yet, asks you to teach her anything, just take it as an opening, alright kid? Trust me, there’s nothing you can do that she can’t.”

Ouch. Eren reasons that Levi is probably right, he’s only seen you board once but you’re pretty incredibly but, still.

Wait does that mean you really were flirting with him before?? You’re actually interested in him???

He hears you calling out to him, and sees you waving, gesturing towards the lifts with a new pair of bright blue mittens on, and Eren barely has the coherency to wave back (stupidly, slowly, lovestruck, like an idiot).

Levi watches the exchange with a bored look on his face. He sighs audibly this time, untucking his arms from where they were crossed over his chest to pick up the snowboard at his feet. “Cabin 24C, east wing. Bring her back after dinner,” he says, hoisting the board under his arm before walking towards Farlan and Isbael.

Eren doesn’t even have time to ask him anymore questions—plus you’ve started walking towards the lifts and he’s obviously not going to leave you hanging.

He doesn’t and your little ski-lift, snowboarding kind of date goes well, even if he’s positive you did take it easy on him.

You’re the one to ask him to go up one more time, when Eren remembers Levi’s advice and finally musters up the courage to ask: “Actually, I’m a little hungry—do you, uh, maybe wanna head inside for dinner? If you’re still up to, we can come back later.”

And when the evening is over and Eren’s gotten your number, he does in fact walk you back to your lodge with your friends, and he thinks that even Levi gave him a look of approval before slamming the door in his face.

(It wasn’t really approval, so much as he’s impressed Eren had the balls and critical thinking skills to actually ask you out in the end. But it’s fine because Farlan and Isabel both loudly told him how happy they were to see you’d scored a date with ‘emerald eyes from the pool’).

Mikasa and Armin are less than impressed when Eren comes back to his own lodge at damn near midnight after having not answered any of their calls all day, but Eren thinks it was worth it, even if he does have a bruise from Armin poking him in the side with his ski poles.

Eren meets you at the slopes every day for the rest of the week, ignoring Jean and Connie’s claims about him being a simp. So what if he is? He’s the one snowboarding and sipping hot chocolate with the pretty girl from pool at the end of the day isn’t he?

He learns that the both of you attend the same university, but are in almost opposite programs. That makes sense, Eren thinks, because he surely would have remembered seeing you on campus before.

You even get along with his friends really well, even if you only get the opportunity to meet them once at the lodge. Eren is more than impressed, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen Mikasa warm up to someone so quickly. 

He thinks he’s pretty successful at meeting your friends, too. Isabel and Farlan continually reassure him that you do in fact have a crush on him (and maybe even persuade him try and kiss you before the week is over. Spoiler: he does, while it’s snowing and everything and it’s pretty damn great). 

On the last day of his trip, Eren takes you to the top of the hill with all his friends, and when you completely demolish Jean and leave him eating your dust, Eren thinks he might just be halfway in love with you already. 

#aot x reader #snk x reader #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren x you #aot imagines #snk imagines #eren smut #eren fluff #levi x reader #levi ackerman best wingman obviously #not really he just couldnt bear to see the both you be so painfully awkward with eachother bye #but hey he helped at the end of the day

[ktheist]

02 — show me yours & i’ll show you mine | m

➙ muses. seokjin x college student / gamer!reader ft. best friend! taehyung

➙ genre. best friend’s brother au. university au. working au. fwb au.

➙ word. 1.9k

➙ warnings. explicit content. oral (f receiving).

➙ index. 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05  | 06 | finale | side story 1 |

➙ synopsis. 

“can we have morning sex?”

“not today.”

x

“is that my brother’s shirt?” is the first thing kim taehyung says to you after a whole night of you declaring war against him for choosing his girlfriend over you.

your body clock’s designed in a way where no matter how late you go to sleep, you’ll always wake up at 8 in the morning. the question of whether you can go back to bed or not varies. like right now, when your stomach is grumbling because it’s decided to deem that the spicy carbonara ramen you had has lost its sustaining-abilities.

“uh, is that a woman-choosing, best friend-abandoning human i see?” you say, eyes squinted at said human.

“whatever,” that seems to have taken taehyung’s interest off the creme colored sweater hanging off your shoulders and way past your butt. you could’ve not word shorts when you went out to get yourself a bowl of cereal. mainly because the brothers have a similar habit of sleeping in until the sun’s shining directly into their faces and they’d have no choice but to wake up - that is, in the event that they forgot to shut the blinds.

“what are you doing up anyway?” you ask but it’s a no-brainer because every friday night, kim taehyung and you would never fail to release a week’s worth of pent up frustrations over playing video games until the crack of dawn, “don’t tell me you haven’t slept.”

“unlike some people, i’ve got things to do,” he steals away the bowl of cereal you just finished preparing for yourself, “places to be.”

you can’t even get mad at his brazenness, not when those eyebags make him look like he’ll pass out with one swing of your punch. and you do punch like a girl - besides the fact that you are one, it’s already a settled fact that you’re really not fond of the idea of wasting your energy on something pointless - so you tend to give the least amount of energy for, for instance - if you do choose to - punching kim taehyung who’s walking away with your bowl of cereal.

so you fix yourself a new bowl, savoring it while watching an episode of the tale of nine-tailed and spending the entire morning catching up to the latest episode. it’s only until half an hour past noon, do you strut back into seokjin’s room, noticing the lump under the sheets now shifting with a sign of wakefulness.

“morning!” you greet, hearing the sound of hymns trickling into chuckles as seokjin pushes the sheet off his face and steals a glance at the uncalled for being that’s perched on top of him.

“you’re up early,” he remarks, arms stretched over his head, muscles flexing deliciously.

“can we have morning sex?” you put on your best smile, lashes fluttering in what you hope to be a coquettish manner rather than someone who looks like they have dust in both their eyes.

“not today,” he says but his large hand latches on your right breast, massaging with a expertise before pinching on your nipple and making you jump in surprise.

“ah!”

but before you get to complain, he’s pulling you down and engulfing you into a warm but shirtless hug (on his part at least).

“not fair,” you pout but snuggle closer anyway, forehead leaning against his chest.

but it’s short-lived because thunderous footsteps start echoing in the hallway and sounding dangerously close with each passing second. for a split second, you watch seokjin watch you, panic spreading across his face before your hands instinctively push him away. then the panic dissolves into alarm as he calls your name, accompanied by another timber-like voice that’s shouting out the same syllables.

“___!”

and then your butt hits the ground, then your back and your head at the same time.

“whew chile, that sounds painful, you okay?” taehyung sounds concern, but he doesn’t take any step towards you to further assert your head - you could’ve had a concussion for all he knows!

“um, gee thanks for making sure,” you want to roll your eyes, but you’re too busy rubbing the spot where your head made contact with the floor.

but seokjin, ever the thoughtful person, is already climing over the bed and pulling you up with one heave.

“why are you shirtless?” taehyung suddenly inquires.

 the cozy creme sweater clinging onto your body feeling immensely inadequate as you ice up. he looks between you and his brother, screws twisting in that head of his before he asks another question.

“is that really my brother’s shirt?” his eyes scream concluded assumption.

well, it’s true, but-

“would you give me your sweater if i said i was cold?” you don’t give him a chance to respond, “no. right. so shut up. what do you want anyway? hurry up cause i wanna take a nap.”

“let’s play, the squad wanna go one more round with you before we all go to sleep,” he says, the matter of why seokjin is shirtless or if it’s really said man’s shirt you’re wearing now no longer a matter of importance.

you like how his brain works.

“the fuck? you came all the way here just for that?” you narrow your eyes, as if visually asking him if he knows whether he’s making sense or not but you get up anyway, walking towards your laptop that’s perched on the desk where you left it last night.

your friends greet you with less enthusiasm than they did last night - everyone sounded like they either need sleep or need a fuck. there’s no clear answer to what they need but you guess you’re up for one game.

“alright losers, let’s geddit.” your cheer is met with groans and tired version of ‘wooo’s and ‘yeah’s.

five minutes into the game, you feel a peck on your cheek and a smiling kim seokjin gazing down at you with bed hair and puffy cheeks. the smile you offer him back is fleeting because you have a character to maintain and a team to support. this time, you choose the supporting role while hoseok takes on the fighter role.

once you realize that the figure casting a shadow over you remains still and unmoving, you peek up at him for the briefest seconds to ask ‘what?’.

you’re only met with a higher tug of his lips.

and then he falls down on his knee - and you don’t even have the chance to wrap your head around it when he grabs hold of your ankle and spread your legs apart. lifting your ass up as he pulls down your shorts seem to be a muscle response than your brain actually understanding what’s happening. but by the time it does, seokjin’s face is already buried deep between your thighs.

“wah- yikes!” you manage to divert your surprise to the enemy that came on screen, forcing out a laugh, “th-that was a close one, whew i was about to die.”

“the fuck? you already had 8 hours of sleep what are you messing up for?” taehyung says into your headphone.

seokjin licking a strip up your love nub.

but that doesn’t stop you from retorting, “oh my god, did i tell you to play all night and not sl- sleep?” you bite back, barely managing to end your sentence with a consistent amount of sarcasm when the tip of seokjin’s tongue slips into your entrance.

“okay, okay, we’re all a little sensitive here,” jeongguk, the most competitive and non-losing-accepting out of the five of you actually tries to placate.

oh, you’re sensitive alright.

then he says something about how “we’re a team” and “if you wanna fight, fight the enemy team.” or something. you’re not so sure because you’re too busy clasping your hand against your mouth whilst trying to dish out healing powers to your team that’s fighting a few feet in front of you as seokjin tugs on your thighs, positioning them in an angle where his tongue can reach deeper inside you, so much so that your ass is almost hanging off the air.

“fine,” you almost choke on your supposedly vindictive reply as your toes begin to curl, back arching as the only sound that manages to escape you is a sob-like whimper whilst sparks erupt from the depth of your stomach and course through your veins like sweet, sweet poison.

seokjin kisses the inside of your thigh once your breathing slows down and you’re slumping on the chair like you have no energy left in you. jimin’s voice demanding you to cover for him barely registering in your brain as you click an ability that showers him with a protection spell.

“sorry, got distracted,” you say into the mic simply before hearing jimin’s “it’s okay, nobody died.”

literally.

if anyone of you died, it would’ve definitely been on you. last night, you got away with saying you weren’t in your ‘zone’ but today, your underperformance will be the reason you get kicked out of the squad for good. probably.

and because you’re under fire, you can’t stop seokjin when he slips away and out of the room, leaving you to make up for your mini blunder.

the game lasts a good 20 minutes before the golden symbol of victory flash across your screen and more energetic sheers erupt in your headphones. everyone starts bidding each other farewell and ‘good night losers’s before the headphones go quiet.

only then, do you bound down the hallway and into the kitchen where you know the reason of the sizzling, salivating scent is because of kim seokjin. a still shirtless kim seokjin with his beautiful, broad back on you as he chops something on the chopping board and gracefully pours it into whatever he’s cooking.

“that wasn’t fair - you should at least give me a warning,” you stand with your arms crossed over your chest.

“did the enemy you go against give you a warning before ambushing you?” he asks in a matter of factly, teasing smirk on his lips that makes your heart go flip flop.

he’s never smiled at you like that before.

“that’s- that’s different,” you refuse to back down, “they couldn’t even if they wanted to because the system doesn’t let us communicate with the enemy team.”

he nods whilst stirring the - you’d peeked - fried rice that’s sizzling in the pan, “i did give you a warning.”

“um where?” you can fee your eyebrows knitting together.

“the kiss,” he taps his cheek twice before shutting off the stove, devious smirk playing on his lips.

“i thought that was a bona fide peck!” 

“that’s on you,” he shrugs, pouring the fried rice into four plates, “like namjoon says - never assume.”

“okay, maybe he did say that,” you concur, taking a seat across from him where he places the plate and offers you a fork and a spoon that he took out from their respective drawers under the counter.

“something smells good,” taehyung comes popping out from the hallway, bowl of empty cereal in hand as his eyes light up at the sight of the two other plates placed between you and seokjin, almost as if knowing that the only other thing that coud summon the kim brothers out from their dwelling is seokjin’s cooking.

“i’m starving,” namjoon announces, seconds apart from taehyung’s assertion.

so you have breakfast - or lunch, really - together like you would. just four kids from the same hometown who found home in each other’s presence.

you might’ve found something else that you like in seokjin’s pants - but that’s besides the point.

x

note. and here we go for the 2nd installment! hope yall enjoyed!

taglist. @scalubera​ @aretha170​

#seokjin scenarios #bts scenarios #bts smut #bts fic #seokjin smut #seokjin fic #seokjin x reader #bts x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung fic #taehyung x reader #taehyung scenarios #taehyung fanfic #bts fanfic #seokjin fanfic #seokjin scenario #bts scenario #taehyung scenario

[comicaurora]

Honestly, massive respect to you for the amount of thought you put into working how to integrate the sexuality stuff. Tbh BEING an aro/ace person it's hard to work out what's going on ever. Even despite having the language for it, I literally had to figure it out by talking to my friends and realizing the way I felt about other people was WAY different from how THEY felt about other people, in that There Were Different Types of Feelings. It's an experience that feels really hard to communicate without having it be a Whole Thing, and I'd imagine it gets harder in a world where sexuality differences don't really MATTER to anyone (which is great and how it should be). I really appreciate the transparency about you wanting to put it in but wanting to make it organic and not uncomfortable- it feels almost refreshing and I have faith in whatever happens

Nobody thinks their own experience is abnormal until told otherwise by someone whose experience is different. In my experience, unless you're in a context that's actively conflicting with innate parts of you, you're probably not gonna be super aware of those parts.

I had a conversation about this with a friend of mine in college. I mentioned feeling kind of weird about the concept of gender, because I genuinely didn't think about it most of the time. I'd try to see if I felt like A Woman and there wouldn't be anything there. It was frankly hard for me to understand why anyone would feel so strongly about their gender - but I knew some people did, because some people felt strongly enough about it to transition.

She told me she used to feel acutely aware of that all the time, but since transitioning she'd started to feel the same way I did - not thinking about it. She didn't feel Extremely Womanly, she just felt… fine. Now that she'd reached a point where she wasn't being constantly reminded that Something Is Different About You, she wasn't acutely aware of the parts of herself that weren't fitting.

In my experience, "coming out" is a side effect of an environment that tacitly assumes certain things are universal. Someone in that environment who doesn't 100% fit that "universal" model becomes acutely aware of the parts of themself that aren't part of that model, and if they want anyone to understand that about them, they need to actively, awkwardly tell them. In a context where that isn't true, "coming out" stops making sense as a concept.

This kind of thing happened in She-Ra, where the writers created a world where gender and orientation were completely un-noteworthy. Nobody is surprised that Bow has two dads, nobody is weirded out that Angella is ruling alone without a king or that most of the warriors and guards are women, nobody thinks it's weird that Double Trouble uses "they" pronouns, nobody ever brings up that Perfuma is trans. None of these things are noteworthy, so they aren't noted. And that means the characters have to demonstrate their orientations and identities by action and context clues only. (And that means Perfuma's identity is never canonically established, because there seems to have been no organic way to bring it up in-story.)

Creating a world where a diverse range of experiences are understood as "normal" makes it a lot harder to draw direct attention to those experiences, but I strongly believe it's a better way to handle it. The alternative is like those 90's-style Girl Power narratives where the heroine would go all "oh, you think just because I'm a woman I can't kick ass!" to constantly draw attention to how weird it was that she was a woman and also kicking ass. The writers could have instead let her kick ass without acting like it was scandalously daring and tacitly implying that women being able to kick ass was incredibly unusual while dudes doing the same was completely un-noteworthy. By explicitly stating that this experience is notable it reinforces the idea that it's not normal, not expected or not broadly understood. In a real-world or real-world-adjacent setting this can work without much trouble because it's probably fairly close to our current society and we can assume a similar understanding of gender and orientation (Benson casually coming out in Kipo makes sense since the setting is near-future post-apocalyptic), but in a fantasy story it often doesn't fit at all.

It's fundamentally just another form of show-don't-tell. It's always best to show us who the character is and how they work and think. If telling works, feel free to tell too - but telling doesn't always make sense in-narrative.

#aurora #asks

[tuanyiems]

To Tango

Yugyeom x Fem Reader Genre: fluff, a little angst, smut Words: 12k [Masterlist in blog description] Plot: Sequel to Take Two (Arranged Marriage AU) Part of the Marriage Life AU series. You and Yugyeom have decided to take things slow now that you are starting over on the right foot. This proves to be more difficult when your insecurities about your virginity grow larger and Yugyeom’s dance partners get prettier and sexier with each routine. Warning: gyeom and reader need to work on their communication lulz, loss of virginity, fingering, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, riding, creampie, a brief moment of unintentional cockwarming lol

-

“Oh, and the sex, Y/N!” Anna let out a dreamy sigh, plopping her head against the couch cushion dramatically, her third glass of wine swirling dangerously in her hand. “I thought we were great in bed before, but engagement sex! Y/N, it’s absolutely mind-blowing!”

You giggle in response to your best friend, lips on the edge of your own wine glass as you nursed your first cup.

Anna reaches out her left hand, eyes crinkling at the sparkling ring on her finger. “I can’t wait to get married and have newlywed sex! Is it even better, Y/N?”

You cough in surprise, mouthful of wine spilling back into your glass.

“Oh dear, are you okay?” Anna reaches over, patting you on the back. She glances over cautiously. “You know, I heard most couples need time to learn each other’s bodies. Not all men can be like Jungkook. It gets better, don’t worry!”

“No!” You looked up in surprise, cheeks heating up. “It’s not that it’s bad. Yugyeom isn’t bad…or well, I don’t…he’s probably not.”

“Wait!” She shakes her head in disbelief, slamming down her wine glass on the coffee table. “I thought you and Yugyeom were getting along! It’s been a whole year, Y/N!”

“W-we are,” you stutter, looking away.

“But you’re still a virgin?” Anna asks slowly. You gulp down the rest of your glass, squeezing your eyes shut in embarrassment as you reluctantly nod.

“Aww, it’s okay…sex isn’t even that…good.”

You roll your eyes, giggling at the obvious lie. “Stop Anna, you looked like you were in actual pain just saying that.”

She grinned, flashing a row of plum teeth. “Sex is amazing, Y/N, I’m sorry.”

You shrug your shoulders, pouring more wine into your glasses. “I’m sure I’ll find out eventually. Yugyeom and I are just taking things slow.”

“Of course, there’s no rush!” Anna smiles reassuringly.

“Right, no rush.” You agree, nodding your head with conviction. Deep down though, you’re worried. After the two of you finally cleared the air of your misunderstandings last year, you both agreed to take things slow, get to know each other as friends first. Of course, this was more for Yugyeom. You had already been head over heels for him two years prior to him ever knowing your name. As time passed, your feelings for Yugyeom only grew stronger, but you weren’t sure you could say the same for him.

It took months for him to come to terms with you being his wife, you didn’t want to scare him away by asking for anything more. But a whole year has passed since then and the two of you hang out more like roommates than a married couple.

The first time you went on a real date, it got so awkward that Yugyeom literally called up Bambam to break the silence. The last time you tried to hold Yugyeom’s hand he flinched like you were going to chop his fingers off or something. Ever since then, you’ve given up, relishing instead on your casual nights in watching k-dramas and weekly grocery store runs. Those count as dates, right?

“Everyone has their own pace Y/N,” Anna adds, as if she could hear your worried thoughts. “There’s no order to when you’re supposed to get married or have sex. Don’t worry about it.”

You look at her with a pout. “Even if we’ve never kissed?”

“YOU’VE NEVER KISSED?!”

You laugh, half at her reaction and half in agony as you nod.

“What the hell is wrong with Yugyeom?” Anna yelled out indignantly. 

You smile sheepishly, brushing your fingers through your hair in defeat. “Maybe he doesn’t want to kiss me. We hang out like bros. I think I’ve been friendzoned.”

“Nonsense! There’s something wrong with that boy if he doesn’t want to kiss you. Even I want to kiss you sometimes! That’s how hot you are!”

You laugh, collapsing into the couch cushions at your friend’s bug-eyed expression. “Anyways, it’s not that big of a problem. In his defense, he’s only just gotten to know me. I’m not as outgoing as you Anna, my charms are a little harder to see.”

“No way, Yugyeom’s just blind. That, or he’s a coward! You need to grab that boy by the collar and show him exactly what he’s missing out on. Just grab him and plant a wet one on him!”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “I think that’s called assault, Anna. We’ll get there in due time. No rush.”

“No rush about what?” Yugyeom interrupts, entering through the front door. He had just come back from the dance studio. You avert your eyes. Even after a long day of dancing in track pants and a plain white tee, hair stuffed into a black cap, Yugyeom still looks irresistible. 

“Are you two drinking again?” He asks after no answer, approaching the two of you on the couch.

You smile sheepishly, twirling the red wine in your glass.

“Yes we are! Have to get rid of our frustrations somehow!” Anna barks back, pouring more wine into both of your glasses.

“This is my second glass,” You tell him quietly when he glances from Anna back to you, questioningly. 

Yugyeom raises his brow skeptically, leaning over the couch to get a closer look. You gulp, eyes trailing the tip of his nose and the curve of his cupid’s bow. He’s so close; you could smell the lingering scent of the outside air mixed with his faded cologne. 

“Your second glass?” he asks, eyes trained on yours like he could read your thoughts if he stares hard enough. You pray that isn’t true.

You nod quietly.

“Then why are your cheeks so pink? I think you’re already drunk!” He declares, standing up straight. Anna laughs, looking at you with a knowing smile.

“Did you eat dinner yet?” You change the subject quickly.

He smiles down at you before stepping away. “Yeah, I’m gonna go shower and then head to bed. Don’t keep her up too late, Anna!”

“That’s your job, Mr. Hubby,” Anna mumbles under her breath, snickering when your eyes widen, and you turn back to check if he heard. Yugyeom is already down the hallway though.

You pout, sinking into your seat. “Don’t say it!”

“You’ve got the hots for your husband!” Anna sings with excitement, nudging you teasingly.

You can only groan into the couch cushions because you know she’s absolutely right.

Of course, by now everyone knows you’ve had the hots for your husband ever since you laid eyes on him as a freshman in college. You were like the Cinderella of arranged marriages on campus. You agreed with it yourself. It wasn’t every day that parents matched their daughters up with their longtime crushes.

But that was a sweet and innocent time in your life, when you’d have daydreams of cooking dinner with him and he’d help tie your apron from behind. Maybe even tuck a stray hair behind your ear. Now your daydreams are far more…mature.

So, when you send Anna on her way and turn around to see Yugyeom stepping out of the shower, striped pajama pants on, and only striped pajama pants on, you are a bit breathless, to say the least. 

“Jungkook picked Anna up?” he asks nonchalantly, water droplets dripping off his wet hair and falling down his chest.

You beg your buzzed brain not to follow the wet trail. Your mouth waters anyways.

“Mhm,” you manage out after a pause.

He chuckles, his hands coming to cup your cheeks. “Are you sure you only had two glasses? You seem out of it.”

“I’m fine,” you laugh nervously, shuffling out of his grasp. “Anyways, aren’t you tired? You should head to bed.”

“I am,” he smiles. “You too? Do you have a long day tomorrow?”

“I’m gonna be in the kitchen all day. I have to practice a couple recipes.”

“I’ll help!” he grins, shoulders squeezing together happily.

You scrunch your nose, landing a soft punch on his bicep. “I sense ulterior motives. I’ll take it though!”

He laughs, patting your head good naturedly. “Then it’s settled. Just wake me up when you start.”

You smile, watching as Yugyeom turns towards his bedroom, fresh muscle relief patches stamped across his back. He had been in the studio nonstop all week. Ever since changing his major, he’s been overworking himself to make up lost time. And now he’s spending his day off to help you.

You are grateful that he no longer gives you the cold shoulders. In fact, you have a gut feeling he’s been trying to make up for his past behavior by doing favors for you. You keep telling him that everything’s been forgiven, but the boy doesn’t listen.

He’s truly been nothing but sweet.

So, it should be okay that you two sleep in different beds at night. Lots of arranged couples do. You should just be happy you got to marry such a kind man. It’s okay that he doesn’t love you, you’re lucky nonetheless. Eventually, you two will become best friends. 

Best friends last longer than lovers, you’ve been told.

But when you tuck yourself into bed that night, you can’t help but feel a little bit colder than usual. 

-

“So, how can I help?” Yugyeom asks, hands on his hips as he sports your far too small, far too pink apron.

You giggle at the sight, sliding the cutting board towards him. “Can you dice the veggies, please?”

“Yes Chef!” he salutes you playfully.

You chuckle, bringing out the other ingredients for your recipe. The sleepyhead woke up at noon and insisted on helping you before even brushing his teeth. Of course, you ushered him into the bathroom soon enough, but it was harder to kick him out of the kitchen. 

You glance at the back of his hair, strands curling up in opposite directions like wild flowers. You’d think the image of Yugyeom looking the very opposite of his appearance in the dance studio would damage your infatuation with him, but instead you found his clumsiness endearing. 

There are a lot of cool bad boys out there. You’re glad Yugyeom is one of the good ones. Sometimes you fear he’s too good. Like maybe he’s being nice because he feels guilty still or maybe even sorry. You bite your lip. You would hate it if he were only acting this nice because he felt sorry for you. 

“Oh my god, Y/N!” Yugyeom yells, breaking you out of your thoughts. “You’re gonna cut yourself like that!”

You look down at your chopping board, fingers dangerously close to the knife. “Oh.”

“And you tried to kick me out of the kitchen. I should be the one nagging you!” he chides, taking the knife away from you. “I’ll finish up the chopping, you can start cooking.”

You nod, feeling your cheeks heat.

“How are your classes going?” he asks, popping a slice of carrot into his mouth.

“Pretty good. I just can’t wait to graduate.”

Yugyeom lets out a soft chuckle. “Same.”

“Extra year was worth it though, wasn’t it?” You grin, filling a measuring cup with water.

He answers with a wink. It makes your stomach flip.

“I never said thanks,” he starts, going back to chopping vegetables. You look at him curiously, waiting for him to continue. “For convincing me to change my major. And supporting me this whole time. I don’t think I would be here without you.”

You shake your head, busying your hands as your cheeks flush once more. “It was all you. I wouldn’t invest in something I didn’t believe in. You had it in you the whole time.”

“Ah, stop it,” he bumps shoulders with yours gently.

You couldn’t help the growing smile on your face as memories from last year floods you.

Yugyeom looked like a nervous puppy in front of his father. You were sure if he had a tail it would be tucked between his legs right now.

You never thought of the Kim family as intimidating. Although the first time you met your in-laws they were angry whispering to each other with Yugyeom over the arranged marriage, they have always been nothing but kind to you. And when you and Yugyeom started getting along, they became even more jovial, showering you with household gifts and random text messages of affection. 

However, Yugyeom’s respect for his parents was immeasurable and in front of his father, he became a little boy.

So here he was, face as pale as snow, about to break the news to his father.

You reached out to him, taking hold of his hand quietly. He flinched at the touch before offering you a nervous smile back. You squeezed his clammy hands in yours. 

It was the first time you truly felt like Yugyeom’s wife. The two of you were in this together and you were going to support your husband’s happiness even if it meant going against his parents.

As it turned out, Yugyeom’s parents were more than understanding. Disappointed, yes, but after you gave your reassurance that you supported his decision, they were all on board with him pursuing dance. 

You chuckled to yourself, remembering how Yugyeom’s frightened face had melted back into his usual boyish excitement. There was something very pure in the way he expressed himself. It was part of the charm that drew you in, in the first place.

You glance his way, catching him bouncing his shoulders up and down to a beat only he could hear. Sometimes you wonder what goes on in that brain of his. 

Yugyeom’s knife stops midair. He turns to you abruptly with arched brows. You blink back nervously. But instead of saying anything, he breaks into a big smile before returning to the vegetables, his body grooving back and forth in a little jig. You chuckle softly, shaking your head. Whatever’s in that brain of his, you don’t have to worry about it. 

“Wow, this is delicious!” Yugyeom exclaims, taking another big bite of your dish. You smile, placing your hands on your hips with satisfaction. “You deserve an A++!”

“You say that about all my food,”

“I mean it this time! It’s so good.”

“Oh, so you didn’t mean it the other times?” You give a playful pout, pushing the plate closer to your side. “I’m eating this alone!”

“Aww, hey! You know what I meant,” he whines, scooting closer to get another bite.

You laugh, taking the dish into your arms as you swat his hands away. He only pushes closer, wrapping his arms around you.

“Just one more bite!” he whines, squeezing you against his chest.

“All mine!” You grin, grabbing another spoonful. You swirl the spoon around teasingly before aiming for your own mouth, but before you could bite down, Yugyeom squeezes you closer, sticking his head cheek-to-cheek against yours and successfully steals the bite.

You gasp, face flushing at his close proximity and then watch as the plate slips from your nervous hand. Almost as if in slow motion, you see the contents of your dish spill onto Yugyeom’s grey sweatpants. Your eyes double in size the liquid sinks into the fabric of his pants and the rest falls to the floor in thunderous claps. 

You blink, frozen, until you take in a sudden breath and collapse to your knees.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” You immediately apologize, wiping at his pants hastily.

“Oh, hey hey hey!” Yugyeom grabs at your hands, flustered. “I-I can wipe myself. Don’t worry about it.”

You look at the red flush across Yugyeom’s face, reaching towards his ears and all the way down his neck. Your palms go clammy in his as you realize your precarious position. You glance at the wet spot near his crotch and then back at his wavering pupils.

“I’m so sorry!” You apologize again, for different reasons this time, as you fumble back to your feet.

He only shakes his head vigorously, unable to meet your eyes as he lets go of your hands. 

“It’s my fault,” he says, rushing to the kitchen counters to grab a kitchen towel. “I was playing around too much.”

 “Yeah, you were,” you agree, taking the towel from him with a sympathetic smile. He looks at you with a pout. “I’ll clean up the mess, you should go change.”

He lets out a sigh before consenting, heading towards his room with his head low. In the privacy of his bedroom, Yugyeom lets out a deep exhale, his heart thrumming in his chest. He hopes you hadn’t noticed.

He looks down, pulling his sweatpants off. Please go down, but instead thoughts of you return to his mind. If he is being honest, it isn’t the first time he’s imagined you in that kind of position, but to have it actually happen—you, on your knees, right below him—and the way you looked up at him with your big, shiny eyes. All you had to do was lick your lips and he would’ve came in his pants.

“Fuck,” he whispers, looking back down. “Go down, go down, go down.”

-

You sit in Jungkook’s apartment, watching beside Anna as the two boys bicker about the latest trendy dance on TikTok. You laugh, watching as your husband grows red in the face from laughing so hard. He didn’t even drink tonight.

“What are you grinning about, huh?” Anna teases, refilling your glass with more sangria. 

You point at Jungkook just as he begins rapping nonsense to the cellphone that is leaning dangerously against a half empty water bottle, off the edge of their coffee table.

“That’s the guy you’re about to marry,” you deadpan. “And that’s the man I’m married to.”

You look solemnly at Yugyeom who is now flailing tissues around as he hypes Jungkook up in the background.

Anna chuckles, clinking her glass against yours. “A bunch a fools, we are.”

You gulp down the fresh glass before breaking out into a grimace. Anna definitely put more brandy into the second pitcher of sangria. You look back at your friend with a frown.

She only laughs in response. “What? It’s not like you’re driving yourself home, that’s what the husband is for!”

“True!” You laugh, drinking more. 

Yugyeom scowls, giving Anna a reprimanding click with his tongue. “You’re such a bad influence, Anna!”

She feigns offense, turning to him with her mouth wide open. “Excuse me? Who’s the one that brought you guys together, hmm?”

“Our parents,” Yugyeom retorts, a pleased grin on his face. You chuckle, earning yourself a glare from your friend.

“But I was the one that brought Y/N to the dance studio and stopped you two from divorcing each other,” Anna pouts, squeezing your arm for backup. You only giggled more, sipping on your glass of sangria.

“Speaking of the dance studio,” Jungkook starts, breaking the little spat between Anna and Yugyeom. “You’re working on that new routine with Lisa, right?”

You let out a sigh that only Anna notices. She gives your arm another squeeze, well aware of your concerns.

For the past couple of weeks, you had been complaining to Anna about Lisa. In all honesty, there was nothing real to complain about. Lisa was one of the sweetest girls you have ever met, and her dancing was some of the best you had ever seen. But that was exactly what was wrong. Lisa wasn’t just perfect, she also went perfectly with Yugyeom. The two shared an unrivaled chemistry on the dance floor and that did nothing to curb your own insecurities over your relationship. 

It doesn’t help that Yugyeom is spending hours of his day to perfect his new dance routine with her.

But how could you even tell Yugyeom this? You were the one that pushed him to pursue dancing!

You stretch out your legs on the couch, wiggling your toes with a frown on your face. You really shot yourself in the foot this time around.

“Bro, don’t remind me,” Yugyeom sighs, much to your own surprise. You perk up, turning your attention to him and ignoring the snort from Anna. “I’m going to kill Bambam.”

“Why, what happened?” Jungkook asks.

“Yeah, what happened?” you insist, a little too eagerly.

Yugyeom turns to you with a frown. “Bambam took Lisa ice skating and she sprained her ankle.”

“Oh no,” you mutter, pressing the wine glass back to your lips to hide the smile spreading across your face.

You feel Anna’s elbow dig into your side.

“Aww, go Bambam though,” Anna cheers. “Hasn’t he been in love with her for forever?”

Yugyeom rolls his eyes, walking over to plop next to you on the couch. His arm naturally reaches overhead, leaning on the cushion just above your head. You swallow, overly aware of his body next to yours.

“It wasn’t even a date, Anna,” he sighs, shaking his head in disbelief. He looks at you then before adding, “That’s why I’ve been at the studio longer than usual. Learning the routine with a new partner is so stressful.”

“Who’s your new partner?” Jungkook asks, squeezing himself next to Anna.

“She’s an underclassman. I don’t know if you know her. Does Chungha ring a bell?”

You watch Jungkook’s expression remain unimpressed as he shrugs. “Nope.”

Pleased with his response, you relax your shoulders and unintentionally lean into Yugyeom. If it weren’t for the alcohol and your slow reflexes, you would’ve sat back up, but Yugyeom presses back into you before you can move. When you feel his hand slide around you, you tip the rest of your glass into your mouth.

“You guys wanna come watch us practice?” Yugyeom offers, seemingly unaware of your wildly beating heart. 

Jungkook and Anna agrees quickly, leaving you with no choice but to watch another woman dance with your husband. The only thing that was making you feel better though is the fact that she isn’t Lisa and of course, the additional helping of sangria from your best friend.

When it is finally time for you and Yugyeom to head home, you are completely drunk. You have no idea how he was able to get you to and from the car but when you are finally sober enough to open your eyes without feeling like the world is spinning, you find yourself sprawled on your living room couch. 

“One day I’m gonna get Jungkook shitfaced and toss him to Anna. See how much she likes it,” he grumbles under his breath as he approaches you. “Oh, you’re awake.”

You giggle, still drunk enough to ignore your usual nerves. “They’d probably just have drunk sex, Yugy.”

Yugyeom blushes, sitting next to you on the couch. “Let’s wipe your makeup off Y/N,” he replies, ignoring your comment.

You turn to him with your eyes closed, laughing when the cool towelette touches your skin. He chuckles against you.

“Stop laughing.”

“It tickles!”

“Just a little bit more,”

You sigh in relief, opening your eyes again to see Yugyeom tossing the dirty wipes into the trashcan. 

“Come on, let’s go brush our teeth,” he beckons.

Your lips jut out instinctively as you cross your arms defiantly. “Do it for me!”

Yugyeom lets out a sigh but a smile quickly breaks onto his face anyways. He always complained to Anna about getting you drunk, but the truth is that he could never get truly mad. How could he when your drunken self becomes a cute little monster? 

You are annoyingly adorable.

Even during the early months of your marriage when Yugyeom was adamant on hating you, he could never get over how cute you became when you were drunk. While he found your normal self already quite endearing, it was a different pleasure to see your guard slip down.

Grabbing your toothbrush and spreading a pinch of toothpaste over the bristles, he smiles as he walks back over to you. Your eyes open again, feeling him approach. You flash him a bright smile, showing off your wine-stained teeth. 

Chuckling in defeat, he pushes your toothbrush against your smile and begins brushing. You watch him with lazy eyes, smile still adorn on your lips. It makes his skin flush under your gaze. Maybe you are still very drunk, but time feels like it stops. 

It’s not often that Yugyeom gets to see you with your guard down. You are always a little shy and always put together. Whether it is helping him talk to his own parents or waking up early to make him lunch, you are always the one helping him and rarely is it ever the other way around.

It’s why times like these, Yugyeom takes his time memorizing your features.

On normal days, Yugyeom already thinks you are perfect.

On nights like tonight, he thinks you are perfectly imperfect.

And that makes you all the more beautiful.

All too soon, it is time to put you to bed. He is surprised you’re even still awake. It’s way past midnight, which is way past your usual 10PM bedtime.

“It’s time to sleep now, Y/N. Can you walk or should I carry you?”

You glance at him, fiddling with your thumbs. “Can I sleep with you tonight?”

Yugyeom chokes on his own spit. “Y-you don’t want to sleep in your own bed?”

You shake your head with a pout. “I wanna stay with you.”

He lets out a breath before taking a seat next to you on the couch. It shouldn’t be a surprise that your drunk self is being clingy, but Yugyeom can’t help his thoughts from wandering to the other day when you spilled food all over his pants.

You pat his thigh, leaning closer. He gulps, feeling nervous suddenly.

“Yugy, what’s your ideal type?”

The question catches him off guard. It’s not until you squeeze his thigh again that he remembers to answer.

“I-um...”

He glances down at your wide eyes. The anticipation in your gaze is evident.

“I like someone who makes me want to know more about her,” he finally answers.

His answer is almost sobering enough. You feel your heart dropping. 

“What type of wife do you want then?”

Yugyeom wants to laugh at your sudden interrogation but you look so serious. He looks away, pretending to think deeply about your question. The truth is though, he can barely think with you so close to him. The only thing he can think to respond with is you. Of course it’s you. It could only be you.

Before Yugyeom could even accept the idea of marriage, he had already fallen for his wife. Against his will and against his pride, you had snuck into his heart.

When he looks back at you, you feel a flutter in your chest. You wonder if your buzz has gotten to your head. Hope rises in your heart the longer he stares.

“I want a wife who doesn’t like wine so much,” he lets out a small laugh when you immediately frown. If only he could kiss the pout on your lips.

Yugyeom sits up, thinking you’ve finished but you’re quick to keep him seated. With the last bits of alcohol giving you courage, you throw your leg across his lap and straddle him, palms flat against his chest.

“I want a real answer, Yugy,” you pout, too involved in your own questions to see the way Yugyeom’s entire face has gone red. “What’s something I can do that you find really charming?”

He looks at you like a deer caught in headlights. The longer it takes for him to answer, the more you begin to question whether you’ve crossed a line. But Yugyeom is just trying to form a coherent sentence in his mind, anything to keep you from pressing further into him and realizing that you’ve given him a semi.

When he doesn’t answer, you bite at your lip, crestfallen.

You know you should have seen this coming, but it still hurts. He couldn’t even think of a lie to tell?

The next question leaves you in a whisper, “Why aren’t you attracted to me?”

Yugyeom’s eyes grow big with alarm. The sadness on your face is so apparent and it makes his stomach ache with guilt. Why would you ever think this? He is literally hard right now because of you!

“I am!” He shouts back immediately.

You look back at him, but your eyes say you don’t believe him. 

“I am, I really am! Why would you even ask?”

“Then,” you sink into him, shoulders slouching. “Why won’t you kiss me?”

Yugyeom looks at you, then your lips, and feels the heat rise to his cheeks. He wants to kiss you right now. He has never wanted to kiss you more than now, but you’re drunk. What if this is just the alcohol talking?

Before he can say anything though, your arms are wrapping around his neck and pushing him against you. Your lips are soft on his and you taste minty from the toothpaste.

You feel a shiver in your spine when he starts to kiss back. Soft at first, and then his arms are squeezing around your waist and you’re running your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer until it feels impossible to breathe.

It doesn’t matter. You decide kissing Yugyeom takes priority over breathing.

You moan against him when he slides his tongue into your mouth. When you rut against him, you can feel his hardness through his jeans. It sends a thrill through your body. You rub yourself harder against him, savoring the way he muffles a groan against your lips.

But when you slip your hands underneath his shirt, feeling his hot skin, Yugyeom pushes you away.

“Wait,” he mutters, catching his breath. “Y/N, we can’t.”

“What are talking about? Who’s going to stop us?” You chuckle, trying to sneak your hands back onto him, but Yugyeom is quick to grab your wrist.

He inwardly curses himself, cringing at the tightness in his pants, but he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he took advantage of you while you were drunk. He is not going to share your first time together when you aren’t fully sober. It is wrong no matter how much you insist on it.

With a sigh, he lifts you off of him and stands up.

“We can’t, Y/N. Come on, let’s go to sleep.”

You feel a wave of heat rise to your face as your eyes fill with tears. You stare at Yugyeom’s feet, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes. 

“Come on,” he beckons, reaching for your hand.

Pulling away, you get up on your own. Without a word, you walk into your bedroom and slam the door shut.

And as you lay in bed, hot tears spill out endlessly.

-

You stand at the entrance of the dance studio, a sick feeling in your stomach. Yugyeom left early this morning so you were never able to talk about what happened last night.

“Are you going to open the door or what?” Anna looks at you sternly. “What happened between you two? Why are you acting so weird?”

“Yeah, did you lose your virginity or something?” Jungkook jokes.

“Anna!” You yell out, appalled. 

She looks back at you with wide eyes, putting her hands in the air. “It wasn’t me, I swear!”

“Yeah, Yugyeom told me months ago,” Jungkook chuckles, a pleased smile on his face.

“Okay, I’m going home.”

Before you could march away and find a cliff to jump off of, Anna and Jungkook are pulling you by the arms and into the studio.

“Hey, you guys made it!” Yugyeom greets you cheerfully. He glances over to you and a pink hue dusts his cheeks. He rubs at the back of his neck awkwardly, unsure of what to do until a girl approaches him. You blink, breath caught in your throat when you see how beautiful she is. “Oh um, this is my new dance partner, Chungha!”

You bite at your lip, noticing far too quickly how Yugyeom’s mood changes at the sight of her. But could you blame him? In just a basic pair of black leggings and sports bra, you could see how toned her body was. Her big, bright eyes blink back at you, and you could see the fluttering of her long lashes. She looks flawless.

And then she smiles.

To think, you had been relieved Lisa was no longer his dance partner. No wonder he isn’t attracted to you. You wouldn’t be either if you were surrounded by women like Lisa and Chungha all day.

“It’s nice to meet you all!” she greets cheerfully. “I can’t wait to get your feedback.”

“Same, Yugyeom said you’re a great dancer,” Jungkook adds.

She smilsd shyly, sharing a look with Yugyeom. “That means a lot. I don’t know if I can meet those expectations though.”

“Nonsense,” Yugyeom rolls his eyes, pushing her shoulder playfully. “Stop pretending to be humble.”

As the two laugh in their own world, you finger at the end of your t-shirt uncomfortably. They have only been practicing the dance together not too long ago but they already look so close.

“Oh!” Yugyeom looks back at you, almost like an afterthought. “This is my wife by the way!”

“Oh!” Chungha exclaims, eyes wide as if she were seeing you for the first time. “It’s so great to finally meet you! When Yugyeom said he was married I was so surprised, but you are so cute!”

You force out a smile, accepting the compliment—though, you wonder if it really was. It sure didn’t feel like one. 

“Well, we won’t hold you up anymore!” Anna interrupts, rubbing your arm comfortingly. “We’ll go make ourselves comfy while you two get ready.”

“Hey, it’s our sister-in-laws!” Bambam and Taehyung welcome you from their seat by the mirrors.

“Soon,” Anna grins coyly, sharing a look with Jungkook.

Ignoring the two lovebirds, Taehyung grabs your arm, ushering you to take a seat between him and Bambam.

“I haven’t seen you in forever,” he pouts before flashing his iconic square smile. You answer with a weak one of your own.

“How long have you two been here?”

“Since the morning. We had to practice our routines too,” Taehyung answers.

“Yeah, and those two have been at it since we got here. I think knowing there’d be a live audience today made her nervous,” Bambam adds, referring to Chungha.

“It’s just us though,” 

“Still,” Taehyung shrugs his shoulders. “This is her first performance since starting uni.”

You glance at the two who are currently crouched over a tablet and reviewing a video of their practice. She is giggling over something Yugyeom had said and is slapping his shoulder playfully.

You frown. “Doesn’t look nervous to me.”

Taehyung smirks, bending his head to meet your eyes. “Is someone jealous?”

You frown even more, lip jutting out in a pout.

“Aw, poor baby, it’s okay Y/N,” Taehyung chuckle, patting your head. “She’s harmless.”

“Tae!”

You both look over to see Yugyeom staring from across the room. His eyes meet yours briefly before he averts his eyes to Taehyung.

“Can you come over for a second? We need a second opinion,” he says. 

“We do?” Chungha asks softly.

You sigh, hugging your knees. 

Bambam chuckles beside you. “It’s hard work liking someone, isn’t it?”

You turn your head, giving him an empathetic smile. “You of all people should know.”

You watch Bambam’s shoulders slump, slightly regretting your comment when you see the look on his face. But Bambam is quick to recover.

“Yugyeom cares for you more than you think.”

You have a hard time believing that, memories of last night’s embarrassment resurfacing again. Instead, you cross your arms and turn your whole body away from the three across from you towards Bambam.

“She called me cute,” you pout.

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

You sigh. “Not when it’s coming from someone who’s drop dead gorgeous. Cute sounds like an insult.”

Bambam shakes his head in disbelief but doesn’t try to change your mind. 

“Sounds like insecurity to me.”

You feel a flush across your cheeks. “Yeah well! Maybe I wouldn’t be if…”

“If?”

You bite at your lip. If Yugyeom had continued kissing you last night? If you went all the way with him? If you hadn’t spent an entire year essentially being friendzoned by your own husband?

You sigh. “I don’t know.”

Bambam gives you a pat on the back. “I’m sure whatever it is, it’s just another misunderstanding. Just talk it out.”

You nod, not wanting to talk about your relationship problems anymore.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” Taehyung announces, jumping to the center of the room like a TV host. “May I introduce to you, for the first time ever! Yugyeom and Chungha!”

You clap along weakly as everyone cheers. But the sick feeling in your gut only grows once the performance starts.

The dance is a passionate one. Their bodies are constantly tangled together, Yugyeom chasing after Chungha. You dig your nails into the flesh of your palm as Yugyeom presses himself into Chungha’s back side.

But more than the touching, what hurts the most is the way he looks at her. He looks like he wants her. You knew what you were signing yourself up for when you pushed Yugyeom to pursue dancing, but when did he become such a good actor too? 

He’s never looked at you like that before.

It takes a room full of clapping to get you out of your thoughts. You wish you hadn’t though. Chungha is beaming up at Yugyeom and he is looking back like she is the only girl in the room.

“How were you able to watch Lisa do this dance with Yugyeom?” you mutter to Bambam, looking away from the two on the dance floor.

“Trust,” he answers easily. “Besides, Yugyeom’s too dorky for Lisa. She would never fall for him.”

“Hey,” you scold lightly.

“You can either be mad at him or defend him, Y/N. You can’t choose both!”

You roll your eyes, heat rising to your cheeks. “I’m not mad at him, he didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then why does Yugyeom keep looking at you like he’s sorry?”

You only sigh, too afraid to say out loud the answer you hold in your heart.

That maybe, he is only sorry because he can’t love you back.

-

You sit on the couch of your living room, absentmindedly spooning your ice cream that is now soup. A couple days have passed and you and Yugyeom are back on good terms. At least on the surface. Silently, the both of you seem to have agreed to pretend what happened the other night on this couch had never happened.

You decided to stop thinking about the way Yugyeom looked at Chungha or how she was so much better than you. Again, you do what you are good at, using your blind optimism to mask the hurt you are feeling inside.

“I’m back!” Yugyeom calls out as he steps through the entrance. He spots the back of your head from the living room and glances at the TV only to find that you are staring at a black screen.

“Hey,” he calls out again more softly, approaching you on the couch.

“Oh, Yugyeom!” You startle, before offering him a smile. “Back from practice?”

“Mhm,” he returns a hesitant smile.

“Aren’t you early? What time is it?” You glance over to the clock on the wall only to find that it is already 9PM. “Oh wow, look at the time! Did you have dinner yet?”

Yugyeom shakes his head, observing how your eyes never quite focus, glancing at his torso briefly before darting back to your bowl of melted ice cream and then the clock on the wall.

“I left some dinner for you in the kitchen, you just have to heat it up.” You place your bowl on the coffee table. “Want me to get it for you?”

He places a hand on your thigh, stopping you from leaving your seat. “I got it.”

He rises to his feet before pausing. Yugyeom looks at you, his eyebrows arching with concern. He stares for a moment. Ever since you guys came back from the dance studio together, you had been quiet. Everything you did and said felt a little too robotic. A little cold even, like you were keeping him at a distance. And then he thought about your lips. The way they felt against his that night—cool from the aftertaste of toothpaste, but hot against his tongue. 

“Yugyeom?”

He swallows. “N-Nothing.”

You look at him for a moment longer before forcing out a smile. “Let me just heat up your dinner and then I’ll head to bed!”

Yugyeom watches as you hastily leave him for the kitchen. It is obvious that you are still bothered and this time around, Yugyeom is sure he knows why. But he doesn’t even know how to start talking about it. He can’t even think about the other night without feeling like a flustered mess.

And by the way you are smiling at him, it feels like you don’t want to talk about it either.

Were you embarrassed about it? Was he right and it was just the alcohol talking? Maybe you were regretting it now.

“It’ll only take another minute and you can take it off the stove,” you smile up at him, giving his arm a pat before you walk away.

“T-Thanks,” he mutters. “Good night.”

You smile weakly before closing the door.

Yugyeom sighs, staring at his dinner on the stove. Even when you aren’t feeling your best, you still take care of him. He wonders how he can make you happy.

His thoughts wander to Taehyung. What if it was him you had walked in on at the dance studio during your freshman year? Would you have fallen for Taehyung instead?

He had seen the way Tae looked at you the night of the party. It was the first night since the wedding that you had gotten all dolled up. He saw you as soon as you stepped through the door. He was sure everyone had their eyes on you.

Even with his own stubbornness back then, he couldn’t stand watching everyone eyeing you at the party. Although he had been determined to avoid you that night, it was the look Tae gave you that drew the line for him.

Since then, you and Tae have become close friends. It annoyed the hell out of him especially when Tae was blatantly flirting with you just to get on his nerves, but he couldn’t even complain. It was karma. He deserves it for the months of hell he put you through.

You may have liked him first, but Yugyeom wonders if you’d still like him for long. With the way things are going, it seems like you are going to realize how subpar of a husband he is and leave him for someone better.

The very thought makes Yugyeom want to hurl. 

He shuts off the stove with a sigh. Why is he so bad at communicating with you? 

Despite being tired from practice, that night, Yugyeom couldn’t sleep. His thoughts keep going back to you and the sad smile on your face tonight. He did that.

And now here he was, hiding in his bed like a coward. Sitting up, Yugyeom turns on his lights with a sigh. This was not okay. He was not going to repeat the same mistake again. He had to talk to you.

With a renewed purpose, Yugyeom marches over to your room, but when he stops at your door, he freezes. What is he doing? You’re probably asleep by now. He glances at the clock down the hall. It’s almost midnight.

Maybe he should wait until the morning instead.

Just as he’s about to turn on his heels though, your door opens. You both jump in surprise.

“You’re awake!”

“Yugyeom?” You rub at the sleep in your eyes. “What are you doing out here?”

He shuffles awkwardly. “Oh, I uh…”

You stiffen, anxiety creeping up your spine as you watch him fidget in front of your doorway. For you, there can only be one reason for Yugyeom to be coming to you in the middle of the night.

He must have come to his senses.

Yugyeom takes in a sharp breath, steeling himself. “Can we talk?”

Your stomach sinks. You want to tell him no.

Instead, you quietly step aside and let him through. He sits on the edge of your bed nervously. You stare at him from the doorway still.

“I-” his voice trails off before it can fully start. He bites at his lip, pulling at the chapped skin until it is wet and raw. “I…”

When no other words come, you let out a tired sigh. “Gyeom,”

He looks up at you and you can see the worry digging creases into his forehead. You wish you could push him out of your room. You aren’t ready for this conversation to happen. But Yugyeom looks at you so helplessly, you don’t have the strength to deny him.

So, with a pang in your heart, you speak. “You never answered my question the other night. Not seriously anyways.”

He looks at you curiously and you approach him. “Will you answer me now?”

“I-sure.”

You take a seat next to him, tucking your hands beneath your thighs. “What kind of girl do you actually like?”

Yugyeom turns his head your way, looking lost. “But I did answer you. Someone who makes me want to get to know her.”

You squeeze your shoulders together, staring down at the floor. “So, someone with stories…someone with experience?”

Yugyeom swallows, feeling himself fall deeper into a hole. “N-no! Not necessarily…”

“What about your exes? What were they like?” you glance at him, wanting to watch his face but scared of the honesty you’ll see.

Yugyeom’s face flushes red. “W-what? Where is this coming from, Y/N?”

Your face falls before you drop your head once more. “Nothing, it’s stupid. I just thought…maybe if I changed? Do you think we could ever be more than friends?”

Yugyeom chuckles softly. It feels unnatural in the tense atmosphere though. You wonder if he’s laughing at you. You wonder if the very idea is that absurd to him.

“Y/N, you’re my wife.”

“On paper,” you mutter. You shift on the bed, wringing your hands together. “But you don’t even want to hang out with me much, let alone date.”

“That! That’s because I’m shy!” he blurts. He tugs on your hand to look his way, but you’re too ashamed to look him in the face.

You wonder if you’re being selfish by putting him on the spot like this.

“You don’t have to lie to me,” you resign, pulling your hand out of his grasp. “I know this arrangement was never your choice. And well, you can’t control who you’re attracted to.”

“I’m not lying though. I really like you, Y/N, I’m just…I’m just really shy.”

You frown at his insistence. “You aren’t shy around Chungha or Lisa.”

Yugyeom looks at you surprised. “Chungha and Lisa are just friends! I don’t think of them like that!”

“That’s impossible! Chungha and Lisa are both so pretty and charming and sexy! They’re the whole package!” You glare at him angrily.

“Yeah, maybe for Bambam!”

“I bet you’ve talked to Chungha more times than you’ve ever talked to me,” you grumble, crossing your arms.

“Yeah, well, I could say the same for Taehyung,” Yugyeom blurts, mirroring your posture.

You raise your brows in surprise. “Tae?”

“Don’t play dumb, he was obviously flirting with you at the party.”

“What party?” you turn to him confused. “Wait, are you talking about the party where I first met him a year ago?”

“Yeah, and I bet if you met him any earlier, you would’ve liked him instead!”

You frown, sitting cross legged on the bed so you could face him fully now. “I’ve liked you for two years before you even knew I existed. Don’t try to change the subject when you were flirting with Chungha right in front of me just a few days ago!”

“That was not flirting!”

“Not saying it’s a bad thing! You can flirt with whoever you want because you’re allowed to like whoever you want. Clearly, it’s not me!”

Yugyeom guffaws in exasperation, cupping his forehead with one hand. “Goddammit, but it is you. It’s been you this whole time.”

“I’m a big girl, Gyeom, you can give me the hard truth.”

He straightens, glaring back at you. “You want the truth?”

“Yeah, I do.”

Yugyeom scoots closer to you. “Remember when you and Anna had that bachelorette party?”

You pause, frown deepening. “It wasn’t really a bachelorette party, it was just the two of us drinking wine.”

“Nope, you insisted it was a bachelorette party,” he argues, chest puffing out. “I know this because when you got wasted over a bottle of wine, it was me you called to come get you. It was me who carried you back to your apartment and tucked you into bed, but not before you tried to strip down to your underwear while announcing your virginity to the entire complex.”

You gape at him, horrified. “I did what?”

“And I have liked you ever since,” a small smile stretches across his face. “I found out the perfect, goody two-shoes girl was masquerading as a terrible lap dancer by night and ever since then, I’ve wanted to get to know even more sides of you.”

You close your eyes, pressing a thumb to your temple. “Wait, back up, Gyeom, I gave you a lap dance?”

“Yeah, and a terrible one at that,” he laughs. 

You falter, anger dissipating quickly. “I don’t remember this.”

“That was only the first time, you know,” he looks at you with a small, teasing smile. 

You cringe. “How come you never told me?”

He shrugs. “It happened during the time I was trying really hard not to like you. Anyways, I didn’t think it was something you’d be proud to learn.”

“After seeing all of that,” your voice comes out small, like you want to make a joke, but your tone doesn’t quite match, “wouldn’t you rather someone like Chungha?”

Yugyeom sighs loudly. “What’s with you and Chungha?”

“You two have chemistry,” you admit, lips pouting.

“Because we’re friends,” he explains.

“Then what are we?” You look up at him nervously. He meets you with an equally anxious gaze.

Without answering you, he puts his hands out towards you, palms facing up. When you tilt your head curiously, he takes your hand in his.

“You make me nervous,” he mutters, and you can feel the clamminess of his hot palms against yours. Your brows raise in surprise and you watch as a flush of pink rises to his cheeks. “You think I’m flirting with Chungha, but actually I’ve been trying to flirt with you this whole time. I guess I’m just terrible at it.”

You swallow, not sure what to say to this confession. From the way he looks at you, you know he’s being sincere, which only makes you more confused.

“And I’m terrible at it because,” Yugyeom pauses, face tomato red as he tries to compose himself. He looks away and you grip his hand tighter. “I think you have this idea about me, like I’m cool or something. You’re always saying I inspired you to pursue your dreams, but I think it’s the other way around. And it’s…it’s just a lot of pressure.”

“I-I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to make you feel this way.”

“I know,” Yugyeom looks at you softly, “because you’re you, and you see the good in everything—even me. But if I’m being honest, that cool guy you had a crush on at the dance studio? I’m not sure I’m him. I’m clumsy and childish and always cause accidents when I’m around you. The closer we get, the more I worry you’ll figure this out and regret liking me.”

You thread your fingers through his and pull his hands to your chest, shaking your head adamantly. “That will never happen!”

He chuckles, but the laughter doesn’t meet his eyes. “You can’t promise that.”

“Yes, I can,” you tell him stubbornly. “I moment I said, ‘I do’ I promised just that.”

“Can you say that after my next confession?” he scoffs.

Your brows furrow, but you don’t let go of his hands.

“Do you really want to know who my first love was?” he asks quietly.

You nod, heartbeat thrumming in your ear.

“It was dance,” he sighs, looking down. “It’s always been dance.”

You look at him confused, trying to process this information. “You mean…”

“I’m a virgin, too,” he mumbles, the tips of his ears glowing hot red. When you don’t say anything, he looks up with a small frown. “Still think I’m that cool guy?”

You can’t help the smile that stretches across your face. Without thinking, you spring from the bed and pounce onto him. Yugyeom catches you by the waist easily, his eyes wide with shock at your sudden actions, but he holds you tight in his arms anyways. You shake in his arms, giggles erupting from you and tickling the crook of his neck.

“Why would that ever make you uncool?” you laugh, fingers combing through the back of his hair.

Yugyeom relaxes into your touch, resting his chin on your shoulder. “But, what if I’m not good at it?”

You pull away to look at him. He chews on his lips timidly. 

“Well, it’s not like I have anything to compare you to,” you chuckle, rubbing gently at the nape of his neck. “We can take our time, learn together.”

Finally, Yugyeom smiles, relief rushing through him. “It’s not that I don’t want to, just so you know. I just want to make sure you have a good first experience too. What if I hurt you?”

“It hurt more thinking you didn’t like me.” 

He sighs softly, pressing his forehead to yours. You can feel the ghost of his breath on your lips. “Trust me, I like you a lot more than you realize.”

“Oh, I’m starting to realize,” you roll your hips tentatively against him and his lashes flutter in surprise as you feel the outline of his semi hard on through his pajama pants. His grip on your waist tightens.

“W-what are you doing?”

You can feel him shiver against you and probably for the first time in this relationship, your chest inflates with confidence. 

“Starting lesson one,” you whisper into his ear as you press your core harder against him. The feeling of his hardness blooms excitement throughout your skin. Never has anyone been this close to you in this way. The thought used to scare you, but right now, you’ve never been more thrilled.

“Are you sure?” the words barely make it out of his throat as you press a kiss to his neck. You can feel his breath hitch at the slight graze of your lips, and it urges you on. And despite Yugyeom’s cautious words, his arms pull you closer and he tilts his head, giving you better access.

“The surest I’ve ever been,” you reassure him before sucking on the skin of his jugular. His pulse beats against your lips and you’re happy to know you aren’t the only one whose heart is racing.

“You’re…How’re you so good at this?” Yugyeom mumbles, squeezing his eyes shut in agonized pleasure as you roll your hips against him once more.

“I’ve thought about this a lot,” comes your breathy confession. When he doesn’t say anything, you glance at him. “Is that strange?”

He breaks out into smile, shaking his head. “I’m glad it wasn’t just me.”

You smile, “Really?”

Yugyeom nods, lips chasing yours. “You don’t know how many boners I’ve had to hide from you.”

His hot breath fans at your lips before he is pulling your bottom lip between his teeth. You can’t help the moan that muffles against his mouth as his tongue explores your mouth. When he pulls away, you are gasping to catch your breath.

Contrary to the kiss, Yugyeom looks at you with the softest gaze and wipes at the wetness of your lips with a gentle thumb. He lingers at your bottom lip for a moment longer.

Yugyeom sucks in a breath, eyes dilating when you take his thumb into your mouth. You meet his stare with hooded lids as you suck his entire thumb into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the digit. When you release him with a pop, you can feel him twitch underneath you.

There is a hunger in your core that you’ve never felt before. Your entire body aches for Yugyeom in its most primal form. You want him. The thrumming in your chest only further confirms this. 

You clutch at his plain tee, heat rising to your cheeks, “Can I taste you?”

Yugyeom groans, throwing his head back. You can’t help salivating at the sight of his Adam’s apple bobbing. When Yugyeom looks back at you he almost looks pained.

“I don’t think I’ll last, Y/N,” he mutters, ears reddening. 

His confession makes your heart inflate and you press a kiss to his jawline. 

“It’s okay, I won’t time you. I don’t know if I’ll be any good anyways,” you smile to lift the mood, but Yugyeom shakes his head.

“No, let me make you feel good first,” He presses a kiss over your smile. “I want to take care of you this time.”

You swallow, heart thrumming in your ear. “Well, what if I don’t last?”

He chuckles, kissing down your throat. You shudder, skin prickling at his breath. 

“Oh, I’ll make sure you don’t,” he mumbles, sucking at the sensitive skin. You groan, threading your fingers through the back of his hair. “I’m no quitter, Y/N, and we’ve got all night.”

You shiver, stomach twisting with excitement. Not knowing what else to say, you can only nod when he sinks his thumbs into the waistband of your shorts.

But Yugyeom doesn’t move further. Instead, he looks at you again, eyes serious. “Are you sure you’re okay with this? We can stop if it gets too much.”

And although your cheeks heat up at just the graze of his fingers at your hips, you nod without hesitation. “I want you, Gyeom. I’m ready.”

He sucks in a quiet breath. “Lay down for me?”

His request is a whisper, barely audible, but you scramble to the pillows. Yugyeom follows right behind and when you sink your head into the pillows, he meets you, right above, lips finding yours once more. As his tongue explores your mouth, his thighs press between yours, spreading your legs apart. You can’t help being hyperaware of the dampness of your underwear as he does this.

But the thought quickly leaves your mind when he places a hesitant palm to your chest. To your embarrassment, your nipples are already hard with arousal when his fingers graze against them. He groans against your mouth, fingers rubbing rough circles around the peaked buds.

You find yourself already breathless at the sensation, the sensitive skin sending tingles straight to your core. You moan when he slips his hand underneath your shirt, the pleasure growing ten folds with his warm hands on your bare skin.

“God, you’re so soft,” Yugyeom groans, squeezing your breasts in his palms. “Can I take this off?”

You nod quickly, hands already coming to the ends of your shirt to help him slip it off. Yugyeom leans back on his heels, eyes eating you up while you laid topless in front of him, chest heaving from just his small touches.

“Gyeom,” you mutter, feeling self-conscious when he doesn’t move.

There’s a glint in his eyes as his fingers meet your waistband again. You suck in a breath, nodding silently for him to continue. He licks at his lips, pulling the flimsy fabric of your shorts off of you.

You cringe at the sight of your yellow cotton underwear, the pink heart patterns looking suddenly very childish with Yugyeom’s eyes on them now.

“I-I have better underwear-” you rush to cover yourself but Yugyeom moves your hand.

His palms squeeze your thighs, and he looks at you with a reassuring smile. “It’s cute. You’re cute, and beautiful and charming and sexy. The whole package.”

You blush, hearing your words said back to you.

“Plus,” he grins, hands sliding up your thighs and you shiver. “These ones are soaked, just for me.”

Your breath catches in your throat when he runs a finger up the wet cotton. He chuckles darkly at the sound of your whimper when he circles around your clit. It’s just a whisper of a touch and yet you find yourself careening.

Your heart feels like the wings of a hummingbird, flapping against your chest. Never have you laid yourself out, so bare, for someone. It’s scary, being so vulnerable, and yet you find yourself wanting to jump into the darkness of the unknown.

The way Yugyeom looks at you is dark and heavy, like he is trying to swallow you whole, hungry to take in every piece of you. And maybe with anyone else this would frighten you, but it’s Yugyeom, and so you are excited. Excited and eager to give all of yourself to him.

“Can I?” he asks, pulling at the edge of your underwear.

“Please,” you consent, lifting your hips.

Yugyeom groans helplessly at your bare sight, dripping wet just for his eyes to see. He lifts at his t-shirt, skin already hot. You swallow, eyes traveling down his bare torso, to the tattoo stretching across his rib cage and then the growing bulge his thin pajama pants does very little to hide. You clench around nothing, just imagining what’s beneath.

Yugyeom catches the movement and curses. You don’t even know what you do to him.

Your eyes shudder close when you feel his fingers back on you, spreading your slick in circles around your clit.

“Does that feel okay?”

You answer with a whimper, arching into his touch.

He bites at his bottom lip, watching you squirm beneath him. You are so sensitive and so eager. Nothing he could have ever imagined could measure up to this view. He could probably cum to this sight alone. The strain of his pants warns him of the very possibility.

“More,” you barely manage to croak out between a moan but Yugyeom hears you and without hesitation, he dives into your heat, eager for a taste.

Your eyes flutter open at the new feeling, hooded eyes staring down at his head between your thighs. You moan, embarrassment heating your cheeks, but your fingers thread through his hair and push him deeper. 

The sting of his scalp only drives him on, lapping at you hungrily. When he moans into your folds, you find yourself vibrating with him. His tongue feels so soft and delicious against you and when he sucks on your clit you tremble at the sensation shooting straight to your core.

Sweat glazes your forehead and you strain to keep your eyes focused on Yugyeom. You can’t even see his face, but you can’t pull your gaze away. The top of his head bobs eagerly and from behind, you can see him thrusting into your sheets.

You whimper, feeling your abdomen tighten when he rolls his hips extra rough.

“Gyeom,” you squeeze around his hair strands.

He looks up at you, eyes glazed over with lust, tongue still swirling around you at an agonizing pace. Squeezing your thigh, he presses a finger to your entrance. He presses, barely entering but you find yourself clenching already.

“Gyeom,” you whine, head falling into the pillow in frustration.

You feel him chuckle against you. A soft kiss to your clit. And then he slips a finger into you slowly. You’re so wet, he slips right in easily. You close your eyes, savoring the unfamiliar feeling. Unfamiliar, but not unwanted. Your body hums for more.

He dips his finger in and out, enjoying the way your body arches, trying to chase after his finger each time he pulls out.

“More?” he asks, teasing two fingers at your entrance. You nod eagerly, squirming at his touch. 

Yugyeom dips two fingers into you, dick twitching at the feeling of your tight walls squeezing around his digits. When he curls his fingers, you let out a loud moan, eyes fluttering shut. He reads your body easily, mouth back on your clit as he repeats the motion of his fingers over and over. 

Your body tightens, heating up quickly. There’s a burn in your abdomen, a fire that flickers every time he sucks around your clit and curls his fingers against your flesh. You clench your fists around your sheets, feeling your heart pound faster against your chest.

Your whole body trembles, toes curling and abdomen squeezing until it feels like your soul lifts from your body and everything goes white.

When you come to, chest heaving like you just ran a marathon, Yugyeom is back on his knees, looking at you in awe. His lips are red and chin, wet with your arousal. 

“Was that okay?” he asks, a boyish smile on his lips.

You chuckle, eyes rolling to the ceiling. “That was amazing.”

“Good.” You feel him lie on the bed beside you, arm coming around your waist. 

You turn on your side, meeting his gaze. “Now it’s my turn.”

His eyes widen and the confidence from before quickly fades behind pink flustered cheeks.

“I-Are you sure? You don’t have to.”

Your hands travel down and land on the tent in his pants, straining to be released. You lift a brow at him, but he only gets more red.

“I want to,” you tell him. “I want to feel you inside me. I want this.”

He gulps and you feel him twitch against your palm. “I-I might not last long.”

You kiss his worries away. “That’s alright, you said we had all night, didn’t you?”

You pull at his waistband and he sighs at the release of his cock. You sit up and Yugyeom kicks the rest of his clothes off before helping you straddle him.

You look at him with wide eyes, before looking back at his cock. His tip is red and shiny with precum. Your eyes follow the vein that travels down the length of his cock. You can’t even help it, your mouth waters.

Your stomach flips nervously. Yugyeom seems to sense your worries when his hand rests over yours.

“You really don’t have to. We can wait.”

“I do!” you say quickly. “I just-,” you blink, swallowing thickly. “Will you fit?”

Yugyeom groans, hands squeezing around your thighs roughly. “Are you trying to make me cum before we even start?”

“I-no,” you feel your cheeks grow hot. “It’s a legitimate question!”

He chuckles, until your hand comes around his shaft. Yugyeom sighs at your touch, your soft, small hands feel like heaven compared to his own. Though you don’t intend to tease him, your hand rubs him agonizingly slow as you feel the smoothness of his skin and the ridges of his veins pulsing in your palm. You watch in awe as you squeeze up and a small clear bead of precum buds at his slit.

Yugyeom’s breath hitches when you dip your head down and lick at his slit. Your brows shoot up at the taste. He’s salty, but it’s Yugyeom and you find that you don’t mind it. Instead, your mouth waters for more.

“Fuck,” Yugyeom curses, stopping you when you try to dip your tongue down again. You look at him in surprise, but he’s quick to reassure you. “Next time, baby, I really want to last.”

You nod, flushing at the pet name.

You rise onto your knees, hands coming back down his cock to align him to your entrance. You shiver, feeling his tip between your folds. Yugyeom looks just as nervous, the heat of your entrance making his heart race.

It takes a few tries, his cock teasing between your folds, before he enters. Barely there, but you feel the stretch. He’s much bigger than his fingers, but the stretch isn’t the pain you always imagined. Unfamiliar, maybe a little uncomfortable, but nothing scary at all.

This realization fills you with a newfound courage and you sink down onto his cock with an extended sigh. 

“Fuck,” Yugyeom whispers a strained curse, a devil’s grip on your hips as he squeezed his eyes shut. 

Sweat beaded on his forehead and slips down his face as his jaw clenches. You’re so fucking tight and warm around him. When your cunt clenches, he groans, balls tightening. “Fuck, don’t do that.”

You still, falling onto his chest. You can hear his heart thrumming wildly in his chest.

“Sorry,” he heaves, hugging you tightly against him. “Just, I need a minute. You feel like fucking heaven, baby.”

You smile, pressing a kiss to his chest. When his cock twitches inside you, you shiver. To be honest, you’re no better either. You feel so full with him inside you. This feeling is so new, but so right. You can feel your walls pulsing around him. Or maybe it’s his cock pulsing against your walls. Probably both. 

You close your eyes, savoring the feeling before Yugyeom finally let’s out a soft breath. And then, he is lifting his hips. You moan, the movement pushing him deeper into you. You place your palms on his chest, sitting up.

He looks at you with hazy eyes as you lift off his cock before sliding back down his length. Yugyeom’s moan is load and uninhibited. The sound sends another wave of arousal straight to your core.

“Oh god,” he moans, hips lifting to meet yours every time. “Fuck!”

You strain to keep your pace, his arms helping you out as you gave into the wave of pleasure each time his thick cock slide into you. Already, your whole body was buzzing with pleasure.

“Fuck, fuck,” Yugyeom’s desperate moan meets your ears and then you feel his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you to his chest. He groans, teeth digging into your shoulder.

And then you feel it. Hot cum shooting into the deepest part of you, flooding you with warmth. The sting of Yugyeom’s teeth sinking in your skin, the sound of his heaving breath and heart beat against your ear, the pulse of his cock thrusting into you as he rode out his high—you feel like one body against his and the feeling makes your eyes wet.

You smile, pressing a kiss to his jawline as he softened inside of you.

He let out a satisfied sigh as his cock slipped out and you felt his cum slide out of you. “I’m sorry,” he finally says. “I told you I wouldn’t last long.”

You shush him with a kiss.

“I couldn’t have asked for anything better,” you smile.

His hand on your waist tightens. “You’re really the best thing to ever happen to me.”

You giggle, tension breaking. “I could get used to this Yugyeom.”

He smiles, hand coming to your cheek. “I mean it.”

He looks at you quietly. It’s a fleeting moment, but the feeling lingers. You feel warmth blooming in your chest.

You kiss him again, “I know, Gyeom. This time, I really know now.”

#got7 scenarios #got7 imagines #got7 reactions #kim yugyeom #arranged marriage au #marriage au #marriage life series #fluff #angst #smut #fanfic

[simpurnatural]

SFW Alphabet - Jack Manifold Edition

request: fluff alphabet with jack manifold ?

Jack Manifold x Reader

Warning ⚠️: Probably a swear word or two :)

Any writing errors? Point them out! Love some helpful feedback! <3

REQUESTS ARE OPEN LUVS <3

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Jack’s love language(s) is probably quality time and physical touch. He’s not one for PDA but he will hold and kiss your hand, kiss your cheek, and all the gentlemen type things.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

He’s the chaotic friend that laughs at everything. The friendship would’ve started when you guys both in English at college. You thought he was funny and he thought that you were a dork so you guys clicked instantly.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Oh most definitely, Jack makes sure to get his daily hugs and cuddles in from anyone who is willing to give them to him.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Eventually yes, but barely being eighteen  he won’t be thinking about settling down with a family anytime soon. Lad can pour himself a pint but has probably burned water at least more than once. He’s a tidy man though, cleans after himself and makes sure to not leave any messes.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He’d stutter a bit but he’d eventually get to the point while holding your hand like:

“Listen, I don’t think this’ll work out.” 

But then he’d read your emotions wrong and start blabbering his ass off like:

“Well no- But yeah you’re a g-great person just not for me? But I assure you that there a plenty of fish in the sea! Wait- but not like actual fish that would-”

“-Jack, I get it.”

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

If and when he asks you to marry him, he knows he’s in it to win it and will be by your side till the end. He doesn’t think about getting married (in general) anytime soon since he’s still got a whole of adulting ahead of him. 

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Jack is a very gentle whether it’s in the way he holds you or in the way he speaks to you. He also is open to sharing how he feels about most things and is always ready to listen when you need him.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He LOVES hugs, especially if they’re from you. He turns those two second hugs into a cuddle session if there’s time for it. 

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

He doesn’t say it too early in the relationship but it does come out when you both least expect it.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He doesn’t get jealous easily but he’s a sarcastic little shit that scoffs whenever you try to ask.

“Is Jack Manifold jealous because of the guy from ASDA?” you tease.

“As if,”

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

He usually kisses your cheek, hand, and or forehead the most. His kisses are always out of love and so soft. He likes being kissed on the cheek or the lips.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He's fine with kids but you know damn well that if he saw one trip over themselves then he’d be on the floor cackling. He knows how to properly hold a baby so that’s somethinf. 

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

He’d bring you a cup of tea in the morning with some jammie dodgers and enjoy laying in bed with you hours on end. 

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

You guys will literally watch anything whether it’s on youtube, netflix, hulu WHATEVER while laying in bed. He’d have a arm around your waist while you lay head on his chest. 

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Jack will literally talk about anything (but not in a self-absorbed way) if you’re willing to listen. He won’t blabber his whole life story but you get to learn something new about him everyday. 

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He’s very patient and rarely almost never raises his voice. Jack is a really chill and laid back lad.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?

He usually remembers most things but not everything.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

His favorite memory is when he asked you to be his girlfriend. He was a stuttering mess but you said 

“Oh get on with it Manifold!” “Or will I have to ask you myself?”

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He knows that you can hold your own but he knows when to step in. He’d probably speak for you if he sees that you were scared or at a lose of words. He likes knowing that his bff or s/o will kick someone’s ass if they try anything.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Depending on how you guys plan them. He can rock a suit yet build a pretty neat pillow fort. His gifts are you unique but always something that you’ve mentioned before. He’s good with everyday tasks like washing the dishes and doing the laundry.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

I hate to point it out but he bites his nails a bit. 

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Not too concerned, he’s well aware that he’s a handsome fella.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Yep. He’s the type to send you random texts/pics through-out the day saying miss you or can’t wait to see you soon.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

You guys play music regularly in your flat so jack tends to ask you to dance with him every now and then.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He doesn’t like a partner who won’t put in the effort to communicate properly with him or keeps their stuff tidy and organized.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He tends to sleep on his side, holding you close to his chest.

shoutout to @the-coldest-goodbye for the template <3

#jack manifold #jack manifold fanfiction #mcyt #mcyt fanfiction #dream smp #dream smp fanfiction #cant stop that jack manifold grind

[mysticalblue09]

Technoblade Quotes

THESE ARE NOT IN ANY PARTICULAR ORDER! THEY ARE JUST IN THE ORDER THAT I HEAR THEM! ALSO, I DIDN’T FIND ANY OF THESE ON MY OWN, I JUST KINDA OF WATCHED COMPILATIONS AND SUCH Feel free to add your own if you want

“Help Dio I’m being chased by a minority!”

“¡AY CARAMBA DÓNDE ESTÁ LA BIBLIOTECA!”

“I drop kicked that child in self defense.  You’ve got to believe me.”

“We got my boy Jacob here.  He mines cobblestone for me all day.  I don’t pay him and he also has no rights.  ‘But Technoblade doesn’t that kinda of sound like…’ Shhhhhhhhhhh.  I need cobblestone.”

“It’s alright, as someone who went to college, I know you can’t lose what you never had.  But you can go into debt.”

“You want to be a hero Tommy? THEN DIE LIKE ONE! Ok, why isn’t this spawning?  Why is this not spawning?  This is very awkward.”

“I play minecraft! *whispers* Don’t tell my parents, they think I have a job.”

“When I first made this channel, I thought we would get here WAY faster!  Hurry up losers, pick up the pace *claps* chop chop.”

“I mean everyone would hate me but hear me out here.  It would be funny.”

“FREE DEATH FOR EVERYONE! WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

“Be extremely subtle, even to the point of formlessness.”  (technically it’s Sun Tzu but whatever)

“Bruh.”

“Oh god he's onto me.  He knows!”

“Whatever you do, don’t reveal all your techniques in a YouTube video, you fool, you moron.”

“I think the rats are trying to say that strange pigs sitting in mazes, disrupting swords is no basis for a system of government.”

“Everyone, let’s point our guns at him while we’re seated.  It’s like the U.S. school system.”

“I’ve seen Irish famines with more potatoes than this farm.”

“I’m having fun.  I dropped out of college for this.”

“Look I’m an atheist but when God sends me to hell, I want him to hesitate ok? I want him to hesitate for a few seconds.”

“Absolute power corrupts absolutely.”

“This man made 8 potato eleven minions… AND THEN HE PAINTED THE MONA LISA!”

“When I was a child, boats killed my parents.”

“This sounds like my parents!”

“I love hay.”

“...I studied THE CRAFT!”

“God, that toddler is getting DESTROYED!  They just curb-stomped that baby.”

“PHILZA, LOOK OUT! AAAHHHH!”

“There’s two ways to get to the top: one, self-improvement, two, sabotaging literally the entire community.”

“Morale of the story here is that if you see a murder being committed, you should immediately call them a boomer.”

“Rats are very susceptible to peer pressure.”

“If Hypixel has taught me anything it’s if you have a problem, the answer is slavery.”

“It’s like drop kicking a toddler.”

“*reading chat* kill, kill, kill, kill, blood, death, do it, blood, blood, tobuscus, blood, blood, kill them.”

“Shouldn’t have given them freedom of speech.”

“HEAH!? (or however you spell that thing he does when he’s confused)

“This is a bigger disappointment than my son.”

“Books for the Book God.”

“Blood for the Blood God.”

“Like, I am so masculine and indifferent about this small animal and then it walks over and licks my foot and my brain just goes ‘OH MY GOD THIS IS THE GREATEST MOMENT OF MY LIFE!’”

“(some random commenter asked) ‘Is your sister single?’  Well, yes, but but she’s in first grade, so… Don’t mind me, just dialing 9-1-1.”

“Dude, these orphans are getting destroyed.”

“This is the second worst thing that has happened to these orphans in their lives.”

“THAT BABY BETTER LEARN TODAY!  THAT BABY BETTER LEARN!  THEY BETTER LEARN RIGHT THIS INSTANT OR I DON’T KNOW WHAT I’M GOING TO DO TO THAT BABY!  I DUNNO WHAT I’M GONNA DO TO THAT BABY HE DOESN’T SH- COMPREHEND THEORETICAL PHYSICS RIGHT THIS INSTANT!  I SWEAR TO GOD!  YOU BETTER LEARN THOSE EQUATIONS!   That is all.”

“Bro, Tommy gimme back my pants.”

“There’s no quip, it’s just judgement.”

“Why have you done this?”

“Let me just frame someone, one second.”

“Only dumb boys in this stream.”

“I just found a really large bee egg.”

#technoblade #quotes #irl quotes #philza #wilbur soot #wilbur #tommy #tommyinnit #blood for the blood god #sun tzu #legit posts

[kinglazrus]

Double Date

Phic Phight

Submitted by @ghostgothgeek: Danny/Sam and Johnny/Kitty double date

Summary: All Danny wanted was some dating advice from the only couple he knows, but of course he got more than he bargained for. At least going to the boardwalk sounds like a nice first date, right?

Word count: 9464 | links to ffn and ao3 in my bio

Danny stares at the tickets in Johnny's outstretched hand. He looks up at Johnny's slanted grin, then back down again. On the other side of the roof, Shadow lurks in the shade of the Ops-centre, drifting dangerously close to the supports.

"When I asked for dating advice, this isn't what I meant," Danny says. He thought Johnny dragged him up to the roof of Fenton Works for some "man to man" talk, not... whatever this is.

Johnny shrugs and stuffs the tickets into his jacket pocket. "Maybe so, but it's what you're getting! You want to treat your girl right? What better way to learn than watching the best boyfriend you know in action?"

"Johnny, I've seen you in action. Downtown. Driving around the community college and looking at all the girls while Kitty is off doing whatever," Danny says.

"Is that really such a big deal? Come on, kid. Listen to me." Johnny throws his arm around Danny's shoulder and drags him toward the edge of the rooftop. "Look how big this place is." He sweeps out his arm, gesturing toward the city. The sun is nearly set, but lots of people are still out at this hour. A warm haze of light glitters on the northern edge of the city, at the beachfront. Danny can almost see the top curve of the Ferris wheel from here.

Johnny continues. "Lots of people down there. Who knows who you actually saw doing what? I bet there are loads of blond guys with bikes around here. And I've got two tickets to the pier that says so."

Danny turns away from the glowing city to stare incredulously at Johnny. "You're using a double date with you and Kitty to bribe me into not telling her I caught you ogling college girls?"

"You said it, not me."

"Did you steal those tickets?"

"Kid, I know you're the goody-two-shoes type. I bought them fair and square with money right of pocket."

Danny snorts. "Whose pocket?"

"I don't think that matters. Come on, it'll be fun. I don't give advice for free, you know." Johnny squeezes Danny's shoulder, a little too hard for what's meant to be a casual chat. The desperate sheen in Johnny's eye kind of ruins the threat, though.

As Danny considers the offer, a shiver goes up his spine. His next breath leaves in a puff of pale blue air. With a sigh, he goes intangible and extracts himself from Johnny's hold, smiling a little when the older ghost stumbles at the sudden loss of Danny's support. Looking over the rooftops, he can't see another ghost, but they can't be far if they set off his ghost sense. He hopes with all his heart that they might be here for a friendly chat, like Johnny, but doubts it. Danny isn't lucky enough for that.

"Okay. I'll go," he says.

"And?" Johnny's grin stretches as he gestures for Danny to go on.

Danny tips his head back and sighs. He doesn't have time for this. "And I guess I didn't see you at the college last week."

"Great!" Johnny gives Danny a hearty slap on the back and climbs back onto his motorcycle. "You're not so bad, kid. When you're not kicking my ass. Just stick with Kitty and me on the day and I'll show the ropes." He kicks up the stand on his motorcycle and revs the engine. "Oh, and before I forget. If this date doesn't go perfectly, then... Shadow!"

The murky ghost rises from beneath the Ops-centre.

"Wait, don't!" Danny shouts, too late, as Shadow zips across the roof, cutting through as many of the Ops-Centre's supports as he can before melting into the darkness. Johnny takes off cackling as the whole thing comes crashing down.

—

The next morning, Danny keeps his head low, his gaze locked on the bowl of soggy cereal in front of him. Across the kitchen, his father stops to slap the counter.

"Didn't even hear a thing! Can you believe that?" Jack asks.

"Crazy."

"Must have happened while we were sleeping."

"Must have."

"When I find the ghost that did it, they're gonna get a face full of Fenton grade vengeance! You know what happens when a ghost looks in a mirror, Danno? Makes 'em go crazy. We're working on this new gun that makes them see—"

"Look at that, time for school!" Danny shoots to his feet. He can't meet his father's gaze as he dumps his cereal bowl—still half full—into the sink and scurries out of the kitchen.

"Have fun!" Jack calls after him.

"Yeah, sure, I will!" Danny shouts back. Under his breath, he adds, "as long as I never have to see that gun." He grabs his backpack as he leaves, snagging the strap and swinging it over his shoulder on his way out the door. Once he is outside, and there's a solid barrier between him, his ticked-off father, and whatever ghost-fighting monstrosity his parents have made now, he stops to take a deep breath.

There are still a few minutes before Tucker should arrive for their walk to school, but Jack does not know that. Danny did not want to sit there and listen to his own father talk about all the ways he could make Danny double-dead, much less re-experience his first death. In fact, he usually tries to avoid people like that. Unfortunately, that does not always work when he lives with two of them.

Danny shakes his head. He can think about those things later. Right now, his conversation with Johnny is the only thing he cares about. Only time will tell if he made a huge mistake agreeing to the double date, but it would be nice if at least one thing could go right for Danny for once.

Inside the house, something slams, followed by a shout from Jack that rattles the window. Danny jumps away from the door and nearly tumbles down the stoop, his front foot slipping off the top step. He latches onto the bannister to keep from falling back, and his foot thumps against the next step. The landing jars his leg as his knee locks, a jolt shooting up his thigh.

"Whoa, it's freshman Danny." Tucker's voice drifts through Danny's ears.

Danny turns, rubbing his now aching knee, and scowls. "What?"

"You know. Freshman Danny." Grinning wide and smug, Tucker motions to Danny's entire person first, then his leg. "Clumsy as hell and too chicken to ask Sam out."

"Shut up! Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not!"

"Are too!" Tucker waves his hand in an airy gesture of finality, turning up his nose. He spins away from Danny, a signal that their little squabble is over. His mistake.

With a final cry of "Am not!" Danny launches himself at Tucker, pouncing on his back. Tucker shrieks in surprise, a peal of laughter echoing off his cry, and stumbles under the new weight. He tries to beat Danny off with the flat of his palm. In response, Danny clings tighter. He wraps his legs around Tucker's waist and hooks his arms over his shoulders, latching on to his wrists to keep a firm grip.

"Holy shit. You're so short, why are you so heavy." Tucker wheezes as he tries to pry Danny's arms off.

Danny throws his head over Tucker's shoulders, shifting his weight forward enough that Tucker bows underneath him. "Ghost fighting muscles, baby."

"Ugh." Tucker's palm finds Danny's chin and he pushes, shoving his head back. "You totally could have asked Sam out for homecoming but nooo, you had to go with me as a hot young bachelor."

Danny's cheeks burned. "It was your idea!"

"Only because you were getting all pouty about not going with Sam, and the only reason that didn’t happen is because you never asked!"

"Well, I'm asking today!"

Tucker freezes. For a second, Danny wonders how ridiculous they must look to anyone watching, with him clinging to Tucker worse than Klemper to literally anyone, and Tucker stretching back to push Danny's head as far back as it will go. Actually, maybe they wouldn't find it so strange. Danny's neighbours have seen a lot of weird things in the past four years; him and Tucker being their usual selves can't be high up on that list.

"You're really gonna ask today, finally?" Tucker asks.

Danny nods, as much as he can Tucker still shoving his head back. "Johnny was here last night."

"Oh yeah?" Tucker pauses, giving Danny a chance to elaborate. He doesn't, waiting for the gears to click in Tucker's head instead. It takes a moment, but he gets there. "Oh! Oh, right, yeah. He finally got back to you? Is that why, uh... you know." Tucker finally withdraws his hands and points to the roof of Fenton Works.

"Oh. Yeah." Danny's limbs go intangible, slipping through Tucker's torso in one final act of petty vengeance as Danny rights himself. Tucker shivers, shooting Danny a glare, before looking back at the Ops-Centre. Normally a pinnacle of Fenton genius that stands proudly above their home, now it lays on its side. Danny managed to catch it, barely, before it could crash into the roof, but overnight the saucer-like body crushed itself under its own weight. Now, the side touching the roof is a crumpled mess, the supports that once held it up rusted beyond repair.

"Shadow," Danny says. It's all he needs to say. Tucker nods, understanding perfectly what happened here. "Other than that it went... okay. He asked me out."

"What?!" Tucker's head whips toward Danny, his eyes wide. "I hope nobody tells Kitty. But he does give off bi energy, doesn't he?"

Danny rolls his eyes. "Not like that. He invited me and Sam on a double date with him and Kitty."

"Oh, so they're swingers."

"Tucker!"

Tucker snickers. "Okay, okay. I'm serious now. Promise." The cat-like grin he gives isn't the most reassuring, but Danny will take what he can get. "You're really gonna ask her out today?"

"Got carnival tickets and everything."

"Well, shit, man. Don't blow it."

Danny grabs Tucker's beanie and yanks it down over his face. Tucker's teasing laughter chases Danny all the way to school.

—

At lunch, Danny pulls Sam aside. He meets her at her locker, which is two halls away from his and Tucker's, waiting along the opposite wall for her to finish switching out her books for her lunch bag. The hall is still fairly crowded since it's only been a minute since the lunch bell went. Down the way, Danny can see Paulina and Elliot, standing with their heads tucked together by Paulina's locker, working on the local rumour mill no doubt. When Sam looks done digging through her bag, and Danny pushes off the wall toward her, Elliot happens to glance in their direction. His sharp eyes go from Danny to Sam, then back. A wicked smile takes over his face.

Danny ducks his head, letting his hair flop forward and hide his slowly reddening cheeks. In two quick strides, he crosses the hall and thumps against the closed lockers beside Sam's.

"Done lurking?" Sam asks without looking up.

"I wasn't lurking."

"Sure you weren't." Sam knocks her elbow against her locker door. Danny's eyes catch the small, black-framed mirror taped to the inside, which reflects the exact spot Danny was standing when it hits the right angle.

At this rate, Danny's face will be red as his shoes. "Oh."

"Yeah, oh. What's up?" She finally looks up from her bag as she yanks the zipper closed. When she turns toward him, she hits her locker door with her elbow once again, this time to knock it closed; but, as the door swings, Danny glimpses Paulina and Elliot again. This time, they are both watching, and the way they cover their mouths as they talk is far from reassuring.

Danny's hand jerks out. He stops Sam's locker, shoving it back open, and holds it in place to block the gossiping duo's view.

"I wanted to ask you something," Danny says.

Sam shoots a raised eyebrow at her locker door, then turns it on him "Are you okay? You've been acting kind of weird all day."

"No, yeah, I'm fine. I was just­– you know. This weekend, yeah?"

Sam looks entirely unimpressed with his fumbled words. "I can't say that I do."

"I have tickets to the boardwalk," Danny clarifies. "For this weekend. We don't have anything planned and I know you're free. So, want to go?"

As he waits for Sam's answer, he is struck by the realization that she could say no. They have been friends for years, and he has had an inkling, the past little while, that she might like him back. But he doesn't know it. No matter what Danny feels for her—and thinking about his own feelings makes his face hot and his heart stutter—she still might not feel the same. She could say no. And it's not that Danny hasn't thought about this before; there's a reason he is only asking her out senior year even though he has had a crush on her since they were freshman. But worrying about it in the back of his mind is very different from standing in front of her knowing it could actually happen.

This was such a bad idea. He is asking her out in the hallway. Within sight of Paulina and Elliot. He should have waited until after school, at least. Oh, god. Should he have gotten her something? Are you supposed to bring something when you ask someone out? Oh, this is so bad. She is going to say no, and then Danny will have to tell the story to Tucker, and Tucker will laugh because of course she said no, this is terrible.

"Sure, sounds fun," Sam says.

Danny blinks. He shakes his head, goes over her words in his head to make sure he heard it right, then blinks again. "Yes?"

"Absolutely. It's been so long since we've gone to the boardwalk. Maybe Tucker can win that stuffed shark he couldn't get last time." Sam nudges Danny's hand off her locker door and closes it, then snaps her padlock back into place.

Danny watches her blankly, slowly processing what she just said. "Tucker," he says.

"Yeah. At the ring toss booth, remember? I think he wasted fifty bucks on that thing. I told him it was a scam, but whatever." Sam starts down the hall toward the cafeteria, but Danny stays rooted in place.

He remembers the ring toss, of course. After Tucker finished emptying his wallet on the booth, Danny took a turn and got the top prize in one go. He might have had a little telekinesis to help him along, but no one else needed to know that; the giant stuffed alien was worth it. But that had nothing to do with this, right?

Before his thoughts can spiral too far, Danny shakes his head. "I meant without Tucker."

Sam pauses mid-step. Slowly, she sets her foot down and turns back around to face Danny. Her grip on her backpack tightens, and he can see the muscle along her jaw working as she clenches her teeth. Those are... probably not good signs. "Like, just you and me?"

In the background, Danny hears Paulina and Elliot snicker. He groans, dragging a hand down his face, and glares over Sam's shoulder at them. "Can you not?"

"Not our fault you're doing this in the middle of the hall," Paulina says.

"Seriously. I had way better class," Elliot adds.

Paulina looks at Elliot and beams. "You so did. But I've been rooting for this since the beginning, and I am so invested right now."

"Oh my God, this is so embarrassing." Danny has to fight off the urge to go intangible. He almost wishes his ghost sense would go off so that he could have an excuse to leave. This is not how he imagined this going, and Paulina and Elliot are making it so much worse than it has to be.

"Come on, Danny." Sam's voice snaps him out of his pity party. At some point, while he was wallowing, she walked back toward him and now has her hand on his wrist. She tugs him forward. He gives in, letting her drag him along the hall past the tittering pair until they disappear around the corner. Once they are out of sight, Sam's hand slips down into Danny's. It's warm. She squeezes his hand, just once, then tugs him into the nearest empty classroom and closes the door.

Neither of them says anything for a long moment.

Danny's hands flex at his sides as he tries not to fidget. Sam won't pull her gaze up from the floor.

"So, uh. Just you and me?" she repeats.

Danny nods vigorously, then stops and shakes it instead. "Yeah, but no. Johnny and Kitty will be there."

Sam's head snaps up.

The first thing Danny notices is the red tinge to her face, a rosy band stretching across her cheeks and nose. Her lips pinch together, not in a show of disapproval, but an expression of hers that he has become familiar with over the years. Sam doesn't usually do hopeful most of the time. Nerves aren't her thing either. But when she wants something bad enough, and she dares to look on the brighter side, she gets this look on her face. It's like she wants to smile but she holds herself back, sucking on her lips as she tries to keep composed.

That expression wavers now, her mouth relaxing as a frown tugs at her lips instead. "Now I'm confused. Are you trying to ask me out or not?"

"Yes!" Danny bursts out. "To the boardwalk with me. But it's, like, a double date with Johnny and Kitty, because he got the tickets. Actually bought them, although I'm pretty sure he stole the money." He considers telling Sam about the deal but holds back. "I really thought this was gonna go better but now I kind of want to punch Elliot in the face or something."

"Please don't punch my ex-boyfriend in the face."

"Right, not a good look. Got it."

Silence falls again. Neither of them can meet each other's eyes, although Danny keeps stealing glances at Sam. One hand hovers in front of her mouth, but when she turns her head away from him, he sees the full-blown grin on her face. Her eyes sparkle in a way he hasn't seen before. It sounds cheesy and dumb, but it's the truth. He looks at her and all he can see is how genuinely happy she is. Soon enough, Danny wears a grin to match hers.

"So," Sam says, and that one syllable sounds so much lighter than her usual tone. "It's a date."

—

In retrospect, asking Sam to go out with him on Saturday on a Wednesday wasn't the best idea. Danny floats around school for the rest of the day with a dopey grin on his face. He actually lifts off his feet a few times and Tucker has to clamp a hand down on his shoulder to keep him down. Over the next two days, he asks Tucker no less than five times if that really happened, if Sam actually said yes. Tucker, naturally, teases Danny relentlessly over it.

By Friday, Paulina and Elliot have made good work of spreading Danny's disaster attempt to ask Sam out all around the school. More than once, he sees money changing hands in the hallway, trying to be discreet and Danny and Sam pass by, so close together that their knuckles keep brushing as they walk.

He hasn't held her hand since she dragged him to the classroom on Wednesday, even though he wants to.

When Saturday rolls around, Danny phones Tucker an hour before he and Sam are supposed to meet.

"Do I dress normally?" he asks.

On the other end of the line, Tucker sighs. "Why are you asking me?"

"It's the boardwalk. People don't get dressed up for the boardwalk. And Sam has already seen everything in my closet. Should I try to look really nice, or should I just be myself?"

"We are talking about Sam, right? Relax, man. You know what she'd like."

In the end, Danny decides to go mostly normal. He throws a button-up over his usual outfit, rolls the sleeves up, and calls it a day. If he knows Sam, she would appreciate him not making things weird by getting too fancy and not like his usual self. He maintains that attitude up until he gets to the boardwalk and sees her waiting by the ticket booths.

"I should have dressed up," he whispers.

At a glance, Sam's outfit doesn't seem too different from her usual attire. Black on black with a few purple accents thrown into the mix. He has seen her in dresses before, but rarely outside school dances, and he has never seen this one with Flowing lace sleeves that slope down her shoulders and a flared skirt. She even has a new wide brim hat to go with it, even though it's already sunset.

Before Danny even considers turning back around and putting something nicer on, Sam's gaze roves over the parking lot and settles on him. She gives his outfit a good look. A second passes. She bursts on laughing.

"Oh, come on," Danny whines as he approaches.

"I'm sorry," she says, but she is still hunched over clutching her stomach. "But your face. You should have seen your face."

It takes a good minute for her to get her giggles under control. Even still, a few quiet snickers breakthrough when she finally composes herself, smoothing out her dress and righting her hat.

"Tucker texted me," she says. "He told me all about your little fashion dilemma."

"I'm gonna kill him." Tucker just had to get in one last jab before the date began, Danny supposes. He hopes it was worth it because Tucker is going to pay dearly. Although...

He subtlety takes in Sam's outfit again, the way the dress hugs her waist, and those boots. He didn't notice them at first but now he can't stop staring at them. Slick, black, buckled up to the knees, with the purple lace edging of a pair of stocking peeking out the top. The only exposed skin on her legs is a few scant inches of her thighs between the end of the stockings and the bottom of her dress. And it's a damn good few inches.

Danny silently amends his earlier statement. He won't kill Tucker; he will collapse into his best friend’s arms crying tears of gratitude for helping him spend a whole evening with Sam dressed like that.

Realizing that he is staring, Danny quickly drags his eyes back up to Sam's face. The last thing he wants on their first date is for her to punch him because he is being a creep. Except Sam doesn't look angry to have caught him staring. In fact, she is blushing again, nervously plucking at her sleeves with her nails.

"For a second I thought you had bought a whole new outfit just for today." Danny chuckles, his own nerves showing through. Despite how long they have known each other, he feels wholly unprepared for tonight.

"Not exactly," Sam says. She drops her sleeves and smooths out her skirt again, this time pinching some of the fabric in her hand and swishing it back and forth. "I've had this outfit for a while, but I haven't worn it yet."

"Oh, man. I'm really underdressed, aren't I?" Danny tugs at the collar of his NASA shirt with a grimace. The button-up, at least, is black, because he knew she would like that. But otherwise, he is plain old Danny.

"Not that you don't look good all dressed up, but I like it when you're yourself," Sam says.

The rumble of a motorcycle approaches from the distance.

"Besides, I think you'll look pretty fancy next to Johnny."

At least Danny has that going for him. They both turn toward and watch Johnny's motorcycle peal into the parking lot. It goes intangible, along with its riders, and phases through the parked cars, only coming back into the physical world when it screeches to a stop in front of Danny and Sam.

Johnny runs a hand over his slicked-back hair—is that gel? "You're really setting the tone for your first date, huh."

To Danny's horror, Johnny is dressed up. He switched his dusty gray jacket for a shiny leather one, and instead of his usual shirt, he wears his own button-up. But unlike Danny's, Johnny's shirt is white and crisp, and actually buttoned up.

Kitty, meanwhile, looks the same as always. "Come on, don't tease the kid. He ain't half bad looking. He snagged me for a couple weeks, didn't he?"

Danny opens his mouth, about to remind her that she had been using him to make Johnny jealous the entire time; one look at Johnny's scowl and Sam's glare has him shutting up before he can utter a single syllable.

"Uh, should we go in? You do have the tickets, right Johnny?" he says instead.

Johnny scoffs and reaches into his jacket, pulling out the tickets. "Cool it, little man. I got us covered."

"Johnny! You actually bought tickets?" Kitty gasps.

"Only the best for you, babe. Let's go." Johnny holds out his elbow for Kitty to take, which she goes with glee, her steps bouncing as they take off for the ticket booth. Over his shoulder, Johnny shoots Danny a wink.

"Oh, uh. Shall we?" Danny cringes as the words fall from his mouth, but offers his arm to Sam nonetheless. She looks between Danny and Johnny, a questioning look in her eye. Just when Danny thinks she is going to leave him hanging, she shrugs and loops her arm through his.

They follow Johnny and Kitty. Already at the booth, the ghostly couple is passing the tickets over when Danny and Sam get close.

"The pipsqueaks are with us," Johnny says.

The girl at the counter, who looks only a year or two older than Danny, stares at Johnny with wide eyes. His aura, a dull grey that's usually hard to see, is much brighter at night. With the poorly lit parking lot at their back, it's impossible to ignore. Kitty's soft green aura is far more noticeable, but she stands just behind Johnny, her arm still curled around his, staring ahead at the twinkling lights of the boardwalk.

The sun hasn't completely set yet, but the top of the Ferris wheel touches the darkest part of the sky, and its colourful lights flash in a mesmerizing pattern, beckoning people in.

Johnny seems to have forgotten the whole reason he arranged this date in the first place because he takes full advantage of Kitty's distraction to lean in close to Ticket Girl, looking her up and down.

Behind them, a line is forming.

Ticket Girl's lip curls in disgust, but Danny can see fear shining in her eyes. "Sorry, sir, but I don't know if I can let a ghost in."

The fawning curl to Johnny's smile drops away abruptly, twisting into something more similar. "That's a bit rude, don't you think?" Shadow rises from Johnny's feet, growing taller until he looms over the booth, a menacing grin stretching his blank face wide.

"Johnny!" Danny slides up to the booth, nudging Johnny over with the arm not held by Sam, and beams at Ticket Girl manning the booth. "Hey. You might recognize me­—Danny Fenton, son of Maddie and Jack Fenton."

"The ghost hunters." Ticket Girl nods.

"Right. We're actually doing an experiment right now. See, some ghosts actually have really human behaviours. Like Phantom, I bet you love him. But any good scientist has to test their hypothesis multiple times. So me and my– uh, my girlfriend?" He glances at Sam, whose red face matches his, but nods in agreement. "Are here to observe these too ghosts"—he tips his head to Johnny and Kitty—"doing normal human things. Such as getting into the boardwalk with paid tickets, just like everyone else wants to do."

"But he...." Ticket Girl glances nervously at Shadow.

"The big guy will be so chill. Super chill. You won't even know he is here, because you'll be at the booth, far away from the ghosts that just want to get inside and definitely not hurt anyone here."

The kid snatches up the tickets before Danny finishes his sentence, ripping off the stubs, and shoves a handful of wristbands across the counter, along with a whole roll of game tickets. "Just don't come back, okay?"

"Thank you!" Danny grabs the items and hustles everyone along.

"Nice work, Danny." Kitty gives him a thumb up under her and Johnny's intertwined arms. "Way to use your head."

"I could have thought of something," Johnny grumbles.

"Sure you could have, babe. Now let's check out the roller coaster first!" She drags him off, both of them without their wristbands, but Danny doesn't think it will be a problem. Everyone steers clear of them as they plow through the crowd. Every second the sun gets closer to setting, every shade darker the sky turns, the more obvious it becomes that Johnny and Kitty aren't human as their auras grow brighter.

"What should we do first?" Sam plucks four of the wristbands from Danny's fist—the kid gave him seven—and puts them on, grinning at her little collection. She takes the remaining three and puts them on Danny.

"Roller coaster sounds fun. Go with the thrills first?" He watches her slip the bands around his wrist, looping them together so that all three are intertwined.

Sam pauses on the last bracelet. "But you like saving the big rides for last."

He peeks over Sam's shoulder. Johnny and Kitty are halfway across the boardwalk already, well on their way to the coaster. Johnny twists mid-step, catches Danny's eye, and beckons him forward.

Right. Stick together. See how it's done.

"Yeah, but it might be fun to shake things up." He takes over putting the last bracelet on, hurrying to slap the sticky pieces together. In his rush, he catches some of his hair, drawing out a wince, but Johnny and Kitty are nearly there, and they've fallen way too far behind. "Come on!"

Danny takes Sam's arm and pulls her along. Focused on the path left by Johnny and Kitty's charge, he misses the frown on Sam's face as she looks down at him.

—

It goes better than Danny expected. Kitty leads the way, picking attraction after attraction with such gusto that he thinks she has never been to a theme park of any kind, which may very well be. Danny doesn't know much about Johnny and Kitty's life before ghost-hood, except that they died young and poor.

More than once, Danny catches Johnny watching other girls. Kitty doesn't seem to have noticed, so far, but Danny is not taking any chances. He remembers Johnny's threat and Shadow's piercing eyes watching them every step of the way serves as a constant reminder. Whenever he catches Johnny in a moment of distraction, he nudges the ghost and draws him back to the present. It earns him a few glares, but it works.

Despite Johnny's mounting annoyance, he still fulfills his side of the deal, giving Danny quick advice, either through vague gestures or whispered words while the girls are distracted.

"Let her choose what to do." Johnny feigns examining the bright bulbs overhead as they wait in line for the bumper cars. The golden lights dangle from the tent, flashing intermittently. Neither Sam nor Kitty are paying attention to the boys. Sam leans against the railing, cheering on the current bumper car drivers. A quick glance into the rink shows Valerie Grey ramming her cart against Dash Baxter.

If Johnny weren't dispensing important advice, Danny would be right next to Sam cheering along.

"It makes her feel like you care about what she likes when you do," Johnny continues.

"I do care," Danny says.

"Perfect, then you won't have a problem."

The bumper cars don't provide ample opportunity to use Johnny's advice, but when Kitty drags them to the Tilt-a-Whirl next, he gets the perfect chance. At the front of the line, he and Sam get first pick of the available seats. The Amity Park boardwalk, unlike other theme parks, has an eclectic collection of Tilt-a-Whirl cars ranging from a cupcake, to a plain seat, to a bat to a spaceship. Danny already knows which one Sam would like.

"You want to take the spaceship?" Sam asks, tugging Danny in that direction.

He resists her pull. "Don't you like the bat?"

"Yeah, of course. But you like the spaceship."

It's the strangest tug of war Danny has ever found himself in. He nearly gives in, but Johnny kicks the back of Danny's leg—lightly—and coughs "lady's choice" under his breath.

"It's just a car. We can take the one you like," Danny says.

Sam frowns, her grip slackening. It's all that Danny needs, and he eagerly pulls her toward the bat, sliding in before she can protest further. When he turns to face her, instead of a smile, she meets him with a frown.

"Is something wrong?" Danny asks, startled. Panic rises within him. Oh, no. She is not having a good time. It's a disaster after all.

"No, it's fine," she says after a moment of silence, which does nothing to assuage Danny's worries. Everyone knows "fine" doesn't actually mean "fine." It's one of the most used words in Danny's vocabulary, typically after a nasty ghost fight that leaves him limping and bruised.

Desperate, Danny leans out of the car, searching the ride for Johnny. He finds him across the way, sliding into the cupcake next to Kitty. Johnny meets Danny's gaze and motions for him to watch. In one smooth move, Johnny stretches his arm out with a feigned yawn, then settles it down around Kitty's shoulders and tugs her close. When Danny leans back into the car, Sam is watching him.

"You're acting weird," she says.

"I'm just a little tired." Danny stretches his arm up, just like Johnny did. Sam's gaze follows it all the way until he drapes it over her shoulder. It isn't until he has settled that he realizes he forgot the yawn.

The rest of Johnny's advice follows that same vein: do what Sam wants and use every chance possible to invite her closer. Danny follows it to the letter, mimicking everything Johnny does. Take the lead when walking, but let her choose where to go. Keep her close, but let her wander when she wants to. The hardest part, though, is finding excuses to stick with Johnny and Kitty.

"We don't have to spend the whole night with them," Sam says.

They are loading onto the Ferris wheel, Johnny and Kitty taking one side of the four-person carriage while Sam and Danny get the other. Danny had hoped to save this for the end of the night, for just him and Sam, but Kitty wanted to go now. When Danny tried to suggest otherwise, or even suggest he and Sam take a different carriage, Shadow's low growl cut off his protests.

"I want to make sure they don't get into trouble. You know they like to cause drama," he whispers needlessly. Neither Kitty nor Johnny is listening.

"I don't think we have to worry about that. We've been here for three hours already and they haven't done anything. I think they just want to have a good time. Mostly." Sam tilts her head, shooting Johnny a pointed look.

To Danny's dismay, Johnny is once again feasting on the local sights. As Kitty braces herself against the rail of the carriage, staring out over the beachfront, Johnny leers at the woman who helped them onto the ride. His posture mimics Kitty's as the Ferris wheel turns for the next passengers to load on, and he leans over to get one last look at the woman.

"It's a double date. Aren't you supposed to stick together on a double date?" Danny draws Sam's attention back to him with the question and uses that moment to kick Johnny's ankle.

"Ow!" Johnny cries. He whips around, fixing a glare on Danny. "The hell was that for?"

"Do I have to say it?" They both know he won't, though. With the threat of Shadow hanging over the evening, Danny won't risk letting Kitty on to what's happening behind her back.

Sam, however, has no such qualms. "I can't believe you. You're literally on a date and you're not even paying attention to your girlfriend?"

That grabs Kitty's attention. She turns, eyes wide, and looks at Johnny. "What?"

"I bet she spent a long time getting ready for today, trying to look good for you, but here you are, faking interest when she watches, then looking to someone else whenever you think she isn't." As Sam berates Johnny, her voice slowly growing louder, Danny gets the sinking feeling that she isn't just talking about the ghost. "I wonder how long she has been looking forward to this. Probably a really long time, but you're so distracted that you can't even see she isn't enjoying herself."

Danny's stomach plummets. He really screwed up, didn't he?

"You. What?" Kitty's ice-cold voice reminds Danny that there are real stakes on this date.

"I was checking out her jacket, not her! It looks like the kind of thing you like to wear," Johnny rushes to explain.

Kitty's eyes narrow. In a blink, she lurches across the carriage and takes Johnny's place at the rail, peering back at the receding woman. Damningly, she isn't wearing a jacket.

"You! You! I can't believe you!" Kitty shrieks. "I thought you wanted to take me on a nice date. I didn't even care that you the ghost kid and his girl were coming, because he's nice, and you were finally taking me to a theme park like I always wanted!"

Viridescent tears streak down Kitty's cheeks. Danny has seen her livid and raging plenty of times over the past few years, but now she looks downright distraught. Her face crumples, scowl giving way as a sob wrenches from her throat. Johnny looks as stricken as Danny feels.

"I'm sorry, baby, I didn't mean it. You know you're the only girl for me," he says, dropping to his knees.

"I thought this– this meant something." Kitty struggles to speak through her tears, fighting against the tightening of her throat and gasping sobs. "How could you?"

She takes off, then, launching herself out of the carriage with enough force that she sends it rocking. Johnny reaches after her, but it's no use. She streaks across the sky, a blur of red and green, and disappears into the sparkling lights of the game booths, out of sight in seconds.

An oppressive silence descends for one long moment.

Johnny, shoulders trembling, turns to Danny. His shadow bubbles and bulges as two furious eyes blink open. "Kid, I am going to kill you!"

Sam jumps forward, sending the carriage rocking again, and brings her leg up. Danny glimpses the neon sole of her boot before she slams her heel down on Shadow's growing face. Shadow screeches in pain and withers into the floor, disappearing into a grey blob with a pathetic sizzle.

"Shut the hell up, Johnny, and go after your girlfriend!" Sam shouts, thrusting an arm out toward the game booths.

Johnny gnashes his teeth but doesn't fight. "This isn't over, kid." He falls through the floor of the carriage, intangible, and takes off after Kitty.

With a huff, Sam drops onto the bench opposite Danny, crossing her legs and arms, and glares at a point over Danny's shoulder.

Danny fidgets, pinching the fabric of his jeans and rolling it between his fingers. He looks up at Sam, down, then out after Johnny and Kitty. "Should we–"

"They can wait until the ride is done," Sam snaps.

Danny nods, afraid to say anything else and screw this up even further. He should have noticed Sam wasn't enjoying herself. It started off great, and now... he is not sure if there will be a second date. He wouldn't blame her. With that realization comes the dawning horror of what that might mean for their friendship. It would end because of this, right? They have fought a few times over the years, and it never lasts long, but this is different. They tried dating; that changes things. If it doesn't work and they go back to just being friends, it won't be the same. They will both know that they like each other, and they will know that it didn't work.

What would happen then? Danny can't imagine not having Sam in his life, but if she is really mad at him... she has dropped people for less. Everyone in Casper High remembers the middle school debacle that led to Sam cutting off all ties with Paulina. They might be better now, but it took six years for them to become friends again. Danny couldn't wait that long.

"Danny!" Sam jostles him, her hand on his shoulder, and yanks him back to the present. She stares into his eyes, assessing him. Once she is satisfied that he is back in the moment, she returns to her seat, this time with her gaze fixed on him.

Looking outside the carriage, Danny realizes they are over the crest. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he missed half the ride, including the best moment. The realization hits him worse than one of Skulker's ecto-seeking missiles. He nearly spirals again, but Sam reaches out and clamps onto his knee, keeping him grounded.

"Danny, I think we need to talk."

This is his nightmare. Literally, he has had nightmares about Sam rejecting him. They usually end with the haunting echo of Elliot's pompous laughter as Sam chooses him, old jealousies thriving in his dreams. Sometimes Valerie is there, too, her face overlayed with Sam's as they turn him down in unison. But the worst ones are when it is just Sam, looking him straight in the eye, and saying no. Right now, this is all too close to those nightmares.

He swallows, unable to find the right words, and nods instead.

"Why did you ask me out if you weren't even going to pay attention to me?" she asks.

Danny's mouth stays clamped shut as his earlier fears are realized. Her rant was for more than just Johnny.

"You asked me if this outfit was new." Sam skims her fingers along the lace of her stockings, tracing the spiderweb patterns hidden within. "I didn't lie when I answered. I bought this a few months ago for homecoming. It was our last one, and I thought... I thought you were going to ask me to it."

"But that's not..."

"Yeah, I didn't wear it."

The dress she did wear was fancier, with layered skirts and glittering black beads.

"I bought this one because I knew you wouldn't care if I dressed fancy or not. And I know you don't like to unless you have to." She nods to Danny's casual outfit. "So when you asked me out, I already knew what I wanted to wear, because I know you. But this whole time, you haven't acted like the Danny I know and care about. You've been clingy, and overly accommodating, but at the same time ignoring everything I wanted. And when you weren't doing that, you were watching Johnny?"

Sam ducks her head and looks away. With the brim of her hat hiding her face, he can't see her, but the quiet sniffle she makes is unmistakable.

A rotten taste seeps through Danny's mouth. This was supposed to be a nice first date, but all he did was make Sam cry.

"I know I say I don't care about this stuff. I say it all the time, but..." She reaches up, carefully dabs at her eyes so she doesn't ruin her makeup. "I wanted you to look at me."

Danny finally finds his voice. "Sam, God, no. You're beautiful. When I saw you? Holy crap, I couldn't breathe. You're always beautiful. Not that that's the only reason I like you! You're my best friend. I love your passion, and your smarts, and how you won't put up with guys like Johnny getting away with any of their shit. Or me getting away with mine. I love so much about you, and I love­–"

He cuts himself off before the last word, the unsaid "you" hanging between them. He knows what he meant. She probably does, too. Now isn't the right time to say it, though, so he lets his voice fade to quiet.

The Ferries wheel jerks to a stop, their carriage rocking back and forth, and the ride technician opens the door for them.

"Hey, weren't there for of you before?" she asks.

"They got off early," Danny says. He ignores the startled look on the technician’s face as he rises to his feet. On instinct, he reaches toward Sam but holds back at the last moment. Clingy. The word echoes in his head. He wavers, unsure what to do.

Sam takes the choice away from him, jerking to her feet before he can decide. She touches his hand, but doesn't take it and brushes past him, exiting the carriage onto the boardwalk.

"Harsh," the technician whispers.

"I deserve it," Danny mutters back before running after Sam. She walks at a brisk pace, weaving through the crowd toward the line of booths. Danny catches up as she reaches the first tent. "Where are we going?"

"We need to make sure Johnny and Kitty haven't trashed anything, don't we?" Sam says.

"Right, yeah." Danny wishes his ghost sense would go off. At the very least, it could tell them if Johnny and Kitty were close by, but that only worked if they left his range in the first place. In his freshman year, they might have, but today his range stretched over most of the boardwalk, if not the whole thing.

As it turns out, tracking them is easy even without Danny's sense. When he and Sam reach the tightest cluster of game booths, they find a trail of destruction. Fallen stands, scattered prizes, and shattered lights guide them through the maze of booths and back out into the main thoroughfare.

"This looks tame for Shadow," Sam comments.

"Twenty bucks says Johnny did it," Danny says as they pick their way through shattered boards.

"Not Kitty?"

"Right now, the only person she's mad at is Johnny. But when Johnny gets mad, he isn't the only source of bad luck in their trio," Danny explains. It doesn't come out often, since Shadow does most of the fighting, but he has seen it often enough to recognize the effects.

When they leave the booths behind, they find themselves near the boardwalk entrance. In the middle of the wide path, Johnny and Kitty are locked in a screaming match. Or Kitty screams while Johnny wilts with every new word.

"It was always supposed to be our place, Johnny! And you ruined it!" She beat her fist against his chest, wailing all the while.

Johnny's silence under the onslaught speaks volumes. He doesn't even look mad anymore, just heartbroken.

"All I ever wanted, and you couldn't even—!" She stops, shuddering, and takes a deep breath. Her next words come out quiet. "If you hadn't tried to look at that stupid girl! If you had just watched the road like you were supposed to!" A gut-wrenching sob cuts her off. "Leave me alone, Johnny."

She turns on her heels and runs toward the nearest building. For a moment, it doesn't look like Johnny is going to follow. His legs tremble, seconds from collapsing beneath him. He manages to lift his gaze, though, and finally notices the sign hanging over the building that Kitty missed: Hall of Mirrors.

"Shit! Kitty, wait!" he calls, but she ignores him. With another swear, he leaps up and flies after her.

"Oh, no," Danny says. He sprints across the boards, Sam following without question. They're halfway to the house of mirrors when they hear a piercing scream followed by a crash. The building crackles. Something inside pulses, imperceptible to regular humans, but it makes Danny stagger.

"Danny, what's going on?"

Before he can answer, a wave of power surges from the house and everything goes back.

—

Danny wakes to a sharp ringing in his ears. Hazy light edges his vision. His hearing returns slowly. First, the muffled sound of his name, then the fizzle and pop of broken lights, and finally the soft rumbling of a gathered crowd.

All at once, Danny becomes aware. Sam hovers at his side, her hair tousled, a thin cut on her temple, and her hat in her hands. He sits up, squeezing his eyes shut when the world spins around him. Sam provides a steady hand, rubbing small circles on his back until he can open his eyes again. Around them, the stalls are dark. Thirty feet out in every direction from the house of mirrors, every light is broken. Glass litters the boardwalk. The normally glowing entrance to the park is dark, the metal twisted. Beyond that, the ticket booth lies on its side.

Directly ahead of them, a large crack splits the house of mirrors.

"What... what was that?" Sam asks. "It was like Shadow's power but way bigger. I've never... did Johnny do that? I didn't know he could."

Danny groans, rubbing his head. The piercing ring lingers in the back of his head, and it probably won't fade for a while, but it is not so bad that he can't ignore it. "Normally, yeah, but..." He grimaces. "We should get in there."

Sam nods and helps Danny to his feet, pulling him up by the arm. He staggers toward the broken attraction with Sam at his shoulder, casting wary glances all around them.

The gathered crowd isn’t big, yet. It looks like Danny was the only one knocked off his feet, the only one really affected by the ghostly surge—three guesses as to why that is, and the first two don't count. Judging by the sparks still raining down down from the shattered lights, it has only been a minute since the surge. Security isn't here yet. That gives them some time.

The employee manning the attractions sits on the boards, staring wide-eyed at the broken building. He doesn't even blink as Danny and Sam slip through the curtain.

Inside, it's dark. The lights are all down. Glass crunches under their shoes, every mirror in sight shattered, leaving blank boards behind. Johnny and Kitty aren't far from the entrance, no more than a few feet. Sam sees them first, catches the glow of their auras in the corner of her eye, and points toward a dead-end alcove after the first bend in the maze.

Kitty is tucked against Johnny's chest, her jacket pulled up around her head. Johnny has his arms around her waist, and his soft voice provides the only noise beyond the glass under Danny and Sam's feet.

When Johnny hears them, lifts his head, just enough to glare at them through the darkness. No threats spill from his lips, though, and he goes back to comforting Kitty soon enough.

Danny can't help it. He looks down at the mirror shards below them, and immediately wishes he didn't. Bloody road rash stretches up Kitty's right side, torn to the bone. Her face, protected by the darkness around them, and the shadows of her jacket, remains hidden from Danny's prying eyes. He prefers it that way.

A gentle nudge at his side reminds him that Sam is with them.

"What's going on?" she mouths.

Danny crouches, carefully not to make too much noise, and picks up a shard of glass. Johnny still hears him, though, and Shadow rises threateningly at the sight of the glass. Danny holds up a placating hand, then motions to Sam, the glass, then himself.

No matter what low opinion Johnny has of Danny right now, he wouldn't stoop so far as to expose other ghosts like that. To Danny's surprise, however, Johnny thrusts an arm out and motions for the glass. Danny raises his eyebrows. Johnny sticks his hand out further. Without complaint, Danny passes it over.

Johnny holds the glass up, angling it so that they can see his face. He and Kitty have matching road rash.

Sam gasps.

"Come on," Danny says to Johnny and Kitty. "Security will come soon. And if they see a couple of ghosts, you know they'll call my parents."

Kitty sniffs. Danny can't see her well behind the jacket, but the way her hair bobs, he assumes she nodded. All four of them go intangible, Danny lending his power to Sam. They slip through the mirrors toward the side of the building and step out into the open air. As Johnny continues to comfort Kitty, Danny creeps toward the corner of the building and peers out into the open. They left just in time. A security guard pushes through the gathered crowd and heads for the front entrance.

Danny retreats before anyone can see him, leaning against the side of the building. He shudders.

"I didn't know that could happen," Sam whispers as she comes up beside Danny.

"Not your fault. Ghosts don't make a point of going near mirrors," he says.

"You do, all the time. I saw you in a mirror this week."

"In your locker, yeah. But I'm not a ghost all the time. It doesn't work when I'm in human form."

"So, when you picked up the glass..." Sam trails off. Danny doesn't answer, letting her fill in the blanks for herself.

Neither of them says anything for a long moment. They hear the shout of the security guard, calling an al clear. Danny feels sorry for the workers at the park who have to deal with the aftermath. It didn't affect the whole boardwalk—he can see the Ferris wheel operating just fine, and a glow in the air from the game booth lights.

"Hey, kid."

Danny lifts his head toward Johnny.

"We're heading out. Consider us even."

"Thanks for showing her." Danny tilts his head back and thumps it against the wall of the house of mirrors. "You know, so I didn't have to."

Johnny shrugs. "Yeah, whatever. You're too young to deal with that shit, is all. Take care of your girl, alright?" He doesn't wait for an answer. Kitty is already gone, and Johnny goes invisible before Danny can think of a reply, leaving him and Sam alone.

"You never actually answered," Sam says, breaking the silence between them. "About why you took the double date."

Thank God it's too dark for Sam to see Danny's face go scarlet. In retrospect, of course Johnny's idea wouldn't end well, Danny was just so desperate he was willing to risk it.

"I asked him for dating advice," he mutters.

Sam splutters, a startled laugh bursting out of her. "What?"

"I couldn't think of anyone else to ask, so we made a deal. He invites us on a double date and gives me some tips, and I don't tell Kitty I caught him at the girl's college."

"You are such a dork." Sam snickers. "Is that why you kept watching him? I thought for a second me and Kitty might need to band together to keep you two apart."

Danny groans. "Please don't say that. Tucker already got me with that."

"Good. I hope he did." Sam shuffles over, leaning against Danny, and rests her head on his shoulder. "Danny, I don't need to hang off you like some soul-bound lovebird. We've known each other for ten years. I don't need some idealized romance, I just need you."

Danny feels like an idiot for ever thinking otherwise. The date might have been a train wreck, but half the boardwalk is still functioning. Maybe the evening doesn't have to be a total waste. He pulls the roll of game tickets—a precious commodity at the boardwalk—from his pocket and holds them out.

"Want to win Tucker that shark?" he asks.

Sam laughs, her shoulder shaking against his. "Only if we can ride the spaceship car on the Tilt-a-Whirl."

"Deal."

#I tried to keep it fluffy but I had to throw in some conflict #phic phight #phic phight 2021 #team halfa #tumblroneshot #danny phantom fanfiction #phicc #dp fanfiction #phanfic #danny phantom #danny fenton #sam manson #Johnny 13 #kitty #amethyst ocean #danny/sam #johnny/kitty #danny fenton/sam manson #johnny 13/kitty #fluff #hurt/comfort #swearing

[doberbutts]

Where was my father’s male privilege when he was beaten by his father so savagely that he went deaf, while his father’s girlfriend watched and did nothing?

Where was my father’s male privilege when he was abandoned and locked inside an empty apartment until the 1950s equivalent of CPS was tipped off he was there and took him to save him from starvation, because dear old grandpa and his girlfriend at the time didn’t want a defective child once they figured out they’d permanently fucked him up?

Where was my father’s male privilege when he bounced from foster home to foster home until he was held down and raped by one of his foster brothers, tried to tell his foster mother, and she just called him a faggot and left it at that?

Where was my father’s male privilege when he was finally reunited with his mother and had to scrape together a living by eating stale bread and running errands for what turned out to be local gangs, because she was too poor to feed another mouth?

Where was my father’s male privilege when he watched a black man shot by police bleed out in the street?

Where was my father’s male privilege when teachers who should have caught his deafness instead made him believe he was failing his classes because he was stupid because that’s just how black people are?

Where was my father’s male privilege when he got the tar kicked out of him by his white classmates who felt emboldened by their female teacher’s anti-black racism?

Where was my father’s male privilege when he brought the subject of racism up with the school board after a cross was lit on fire on his desk, and he was dismissed by both male and female staff?

Where was my father’s male privilege when he struggled to find a job after completing college, completing a master’s degree, which he paid for exclusively with scholarships earned from his competitive essay writing, because no one wanted to hire a disabled black man?

Where was my father’s male privilege when he was accused of assault by a white female student who could not keep her story straight and eventually admitted she had made it up because she wanted to put her black principal back in his place?

Where was my father’s male privilege when he was violently cuffed and illegally searched while I sat in the carseat and he was forced to comfort me through the window?

Where was my father’s male privilege when his wife, my mother, was immediately disowned by her entire family for associating herself with him? When she was forced to make a choice between a future with him, or her family? When he sees this echo with his children, and my sister’s children have still never met my brother-in-law’s family despite more than 10 years of marriage?

Where was my father’s male privilege when he came to pick us up from school and my school refused to let him in until the cops verified he was exactly who he said he was? Despite his name matching his ID, the lanyard he wore stating he was a principal at a nearby school, and the name on the school registry as being one of my parents? Despite me being called into the office to peek through the blinds at him and verifying that yes, this was my father?

Where was my father’s male privilege as neighbors who protested living near a black man repeatedly called the police on him as he pulled into the driveway of the house he’s lived in since I was born, let himself in with his own key, with ID to match the address and having known these neighbors by first name? To the point my white-passing mother had to diffuse the situation?

My father is straight and cis. My father is black and disabled. My father is a survivor. My father is a lot of things, and I have a lot of complicated feelings about him, but he is not trash. He has not skated through life as though it’s easy. His life was significantly harder than my mother’s, and her life wasn’t easy either. He has been hurt by men. He has been hurt by women. Some of the instances he has been hurt, my mother was directly sheltered from because she is a woman.

Her father was also an angry drunk, but deliberately did not take his anger out on his daughters, preferring to beat his son bloody instead. Mom has the trauma of watching her father beat the piss out of her brother and having to patch him back up after, but never of having been beaten herself.

Mom found herself in compromising and dangerous positions at times, but was protected from physical harm by her brother and the other men around her who saw it as their duty to protect the girls from that sort of thing. Literally the only good thing about rural purity culture.

Mom has a history of speaking out against racism and discrimination when she sees it, but has never needed to throw a punch in her life, because there was always a man around to protect her from the resulting fight. The men might not have agreed with her views on race but they were connected to her and thus duty/honor bound to protect her if someone tried to jump her because she wouldn’t let them beat up the black kid or told them to stop bothering the asian kid.

Mom never once had to stop and consider that it would be kinder to her partner to break things off.

Mom has never been falsely accused of assault because it’s just assumed that women don’t do that.

Mom has never been accused of trying to kidnap us because it’s believable that a white woman has mixed race kids that are darker than her but inconceivable that a black man has mixed race kids that are lighter than him.

Mom has never had the police called on her for entering her own house in their very white neighborhood.

Mom has only been pulled over once in her life, and the cop was far more interested in what my sisters and I were doing in her car than anything she might have potentially done.

My mother is straight and cis. She is also a white-passing POC and disabled. My mother is a survivor. My mother is a lot of things, and I have a lot of complicated feelings about her, but even she admits that her life was easier than my dad’s.

Cis, straight men suffer. White men suffer. My uncle is also a white-passing POC and a survivor. Do you know how much pent up anger he has? Still has, even though my grandfather changed and got better and apologized and owned up to his wrongs? Even though my grandfather’s been dead for years now? My uncle is sullen and prefers a bottle to take away his pain, pain he’s not been able to process, not been allowed to process, and he’s been that way since he was a child, which is not surprising considering what I’ve been directly told the beatings entailed... and things are always worse than what you’re told when it comes to that.

And all of that anger and resentment and rage and pain builds and builds until one of his sisters pokes him a little too hard about it and then he roars at them and storms off and he knows it’s wrong to take it out on them and he knows it’s not fair and that they only mean well but it hurts and he knows no other outlet besides lashing out because that was the only thing he was ever taught. Men get drunk and then get angry and then get violent. So he stops himself at yelling because he knows he can’t hit in anger, and he leaves and bangs doors behind him and stomps off until he calms down.

And you can say “dude needs therapy” and you know... you’re not wrong. But why would he ever seek it? When he sought help as a child he was told to be a man and suck it up and harden and grow some balls. His mother didn’t intervene to help him. You know, I know, he knows it’s because she was afraid her husband would turn on her. But it still hurts to know your own mother let your own father do that to you. Repeatedly. Over and over and over again. The most help he ever got was some first aid from his sisters when my grandfather decided he was done being angry. His teachers just knew him as an angry, sullen boy who frequently got into fistfights with other angry, sullen boys and chalked new bruises up to that. 

If you grow up like this, betrayed by everyone who is supposed to help you, then why would you ever consider seeking outside help as an adult?

And if your reaction is- see? He is a violent man! He is part of the problem! He could seek help and won’t because he is a stubborn man that wants to make his problems into women’s problems by relying on his sisters!

Then you fail to understand that my uncle is the way he is because of unprocessed, repeated trauma and betrayal that he was actively discouraged from seeking help to free himself of the cycle and start to heal. And his sisters were the only people in his life that did not harm him in that way, so at this point his sisters and his wife are the only people he trusts when triggers get poked and the pot boils over.

He does need therapy. He’s not likely to ever seek it out. And it’s because he was born a boy that this happened to him, and it’s because he was born a boy that no one was willing to help when he needed it most.

These men are not part of the queer community. They still were made vulnerable, and needed help, and did not get any, because of that same logic that drives these feelings about men not needing to be helped or included or assisted today. It’s not progressive just because the logic is coming from the queer community this time instead of conservative christians.

#tbh the majority of my mom's family is functionally white #they are a large part Native but that only comes up when it's convenient #mostly they're Irish and lean real hard into the being white thing #and tbh if you called one of them a POC to their face they'd probably punch you #even though by definition they ARE